Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Where is Bonnie?”

A question so common in passing that when uttered hardly resulted in any urgent action. Usually it was replied to with a shrug, or a lazy finger pointed in the correct direction.

Yet, as it passes Freddy’s muzzle, there’s an alarming amount of response.

It was Chica who finally offered something small; “I haven’t seen him since our last performance.”

Freddy’s ears shoot sharply upwards. The day was Tuesday— their last show was on Sunday, seeing as the Pizzaplex was closed for the primary days of the week. 

He wants to curse himself a little. Nearly two full days was far too long without drawing alarm— he should have been worried by six hours. Especially because they had plans.

Roxy shrugs. “Bonnie Bowl looks terrible after that last birthday party. I think there’s balls in the ceiling. I don’t know about you, but I don’t think that’s where they belong.”

“Your point?”

“Maybe he’s cleaning up,” she explains with a slight air of arrogance. 

“He isn’t much of a dedicated worker,” Chica argues. However, at Freddy’s distraught expression, she swiftly adds, “But that’s probably right! He does love that alley.”

Freddy doesn’t allow himself to be more concerned than that. If someone was up, the staff would have told him. Maintenance days were always sluggish, and maybe a repair job took longer than anticipated.

Still, he hurries to the bowling alley to check, and he’s instantly surprised by the state of disrepair the entire place was. Roxy wasn’t far off. There were bowling balls everywhere— lights were knocked out, pins were clogging the gutters, and shreds of the furniture were littered on the floor.

Bowling ball-shaped holes were implanted in every surface— the walls, the floor, even the ceiling. Plastic chips and cracked balls coat the ground, and Freddy thinks he catches sight of blue wreckage.

In his rough assessment, he takes dim notice of the jagged claw marks left behind on the couches.

Quickly, he notes the presence of workers. Apparently this was the main state of focus over the work days, and many of them had trash and clutter in their hands. One of the far alleys was completely shut down, and a crowd of workers huddled around it.

It would explain the remote silence the animatronics had received from the staff in the last forty-eight hours.

Unease crawls up and down his wires, and he can quickly name the emotion that caused it: confusion.

A worker notices his lost expression, breaking away from her place at the diner to stand in front of him. “Freddy! It’s great to see you. What seems to be the problem?”

Freddy twitches his nose— a feature added by Bonnie himself just a few weeks ago— and answers, “I was looking for Bonnie. Have you seen him?”

She frowns. “Well, no. We’re not allowed bac—“ she glances at him, eyes widening in alarm. “Oh, you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

Slowly, as if deciding the official words for it, she says, “He’s been decommissioned.”

Freddy feels everything go alarmingly warm. Electricity is buzzing below his casing with a feverish intent. His vision statics, and he’s aware of his processor overloading.

Still, clear as day, he hears her continue. “I figured you knew, since, you know, Monty’s on bass now. Shouldn’t you be practicing?”

A flush of coolant suddenly comes shooting down his wires, a safety mechanism installed to prevent the very thing Freddy nearly caused— a fire.

“Of course, Bonnie was great at bass, but Monty’s got an ear for new beats. He can hold a crowd, that’s for sure!”

Freddy finally feels his processors reconnect to their predetermined actions, and slowly, his jaw and voice box interact as one. “When did this… happen?”

“Sunday night,” she answers. “Wow, can’t believe you didn’t know! Well, I need to get back,” she pointedly looks over her shoulder at her coworkers, who do not appear to need her back urgently. “Bye Freddy!”

He stays silent.

The walk back towards Rockstar Row is grueling, and he constantly has to stop to allow his sensors to catch up. His vision flashes with warnings— low power, high internal temperature, locked joints.

Freddy passes some of the wet floor bots, and they turn to follow him with glowing eyes.

Freezing in step, Freddy glares over his shoulder. “What are you looking at?”

The two floor signs continue to stare intensely at him, unflinching.

Curling his fists— Bonnie was gone— he snaps at them. “Go find another mess, useless bots.”

He doesn’t even feel slightly bad, leaving them behind. On one hand, they’ve never moved before, and on the other, Bonnie did have a fascination in them. He wanted to create a network of them for faster communication and asset locating, but Freddy’s unsure if he ever got around to it.

Because now, there wasn’t any time left.

—

Bonnie laughs as he continues to strum away at his bass, even as the lift takes them down to parts and service. He hits a particularly sick rift, and the others gleam with glee at his joyful expression.

Roxy, however, true to herself says, “Shows over, bunny.”

“He’s having fun!” Chica protests, lightly pushing on the wolf. Then, catching a certain someone’s expression in the dark, she elbows Roxy again to follow her gaze.

Freddy looks absolutely starstruck, and his machinery whirrs louder than usual, barely audible over Bonnie’s fading bass.

The bunny strums one last note, and breaks into more laughter, letting the guitar fall to his chest. He turns to Freddy, a grin bright on his pale-blue muzzle. “Well? Don’t just stand there,” Bonnie teases him in good nature.

Chica and Roxy giggle at Freddy’s dumbstruck posture. Finally, the bear blinks rapidly, and his ears droop with the goofy expression on his face. “Oh! That was great!” Bonnie’s still looking at him knowingly, his nose twitching in amusement. Mimicking the sound of clearing his throat, and briefly resetting his voice box, Freddy continues, “You always sound fantastic, though! I believe you are the best bass player ever.”

“Ugh,” Roxy groans. “Spare me.”

Giggling, Chica pulls Roxy from the scene, and the two girls head down to the service elevators to give the pair peace.

Bonnie shuffles a little closer to the other animatronic, barely a few inches away from his snout. “Really? You think?”

“I know,” Freddy corrects, ears still spinning. There’s a mechanical thumping in his chest— not a heart, but most likely his gears working overtime to keep every function of his running. 

“Aww, superstar,” Bonnie’s voice still carries the grin he wears, “You flatter me.”

It’s then Freddy realizes their proximity, and the jumpiness in his wires. Bonnie makes a small, staticky sound— vaguely like a nervous breath, despite his lack of lungs. His eyes flick anxiously across Freddy’s face, mouth parted.

Bonnie can hear the distinct sound of Freddy’s endo and systems. It’s become comforting to him overtime, and now he can especially tell that Freddy Fazbear is nervous. 

And he thinks that finally, finally, he could kiss the stupid bear— can they kiss? Was that something they could manage? It sure seems like it to Bonnie, who’s still patiently awaiting for his friend to lean forward. Bonnie had already done all the work! They were there; mostly alone in parts and service, their friends off on their elevators, the technicians packing up for the night.

Suddenly, Freddy turns and takes a step towards the protective cylinder. Bonnie effectively masks his disappointment in favor of embarrassment, and drags a robot hand over his muzzle.

“We should head up to our rooms,” Freddy says, his tone betraying nothing.

Bonnie crosses his arms over his chest, and rests one on top of his bass. “We should,” he echoes, somewhat bitterly.

The bear doesn’t notice.

There’s always next time, Bonnie thinks ruefully, and flattens his ears as he trudges after Freddy.

Slowly, they make their way over to Freddy’s elevator. He holds it open for Bonnie, who utters a small, thanks. And then, deciding to escape the strange air they seem to have created, he says, “So, I’ve been tinkering.”

“When are you not?” Freddy replies, and appears to be interested.

Bonnie shrugs, a sheepish chuckle crackling from his speakers. “This one might sound crazy, though. So stick with me.”

Freddy hums.

Launching right into explanation, Bonnie fails to keep the excitement of his voice. “You know all the wet floor bots? The yellow, caution ones? Well, I was thinking about using them for surveillance!”

The bear tilts his head in confusion, but allows the bunny to continue.

“They have cameras for eyes, and visual processors,” he explains, eagerly, “Which means all of them have to be on a network, right?” He doesn’t wait for acknowledgement. “I did some digging. And I found the network they work off of— as well as every single perspective of all the active ones! You wouldn’t believe the things I saw.”

Freddy chuckles. “They aren’t far off from security cameras, then, are they?”

“Nope!” Bonnie’s tail sways. “Now, if we used them as cameras, we could find things far easier! Imagine: if there’s a lost kid somewhere, we can just tap into the floor bot network and view the world through their eyes!”

He had to admit, it was a good idea. Climbing all the way to the security office in the main lobby was a hassle and a half. Pulling up footage throughout the day was even tougher— so if the bots could have a way to view the Pizzaplex in real-time, it would surely be a relief to the security staff. 

Still, he has the urge to tease his friend. “You just want to install the cameras because you can’t get enough of me.”

“You sound like Roxy,” Bonnie scolds lightly. “Don’t you think it’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s wonderful.” Freddy shifts as the elevator finally stops, a ding indicating their arrival. “But I think all of your ideas are genius, Bon.”

The rabbit bounds out of the elevator after him. “I think so too! And— get this — they have wheels! Once I hack the cameras, I think I could get the wheels to be remotely controlled too. Imagine that!”

“I’m excited to see what you come up with,” he replies. Freddy pauses before they enter his green room. “Will I see you after the meet-and-greets?”

“Of course!” Bonnie beams.

It’s the last time Freddy sees Bonnie.

—

Freddy refuses to return to his greenroom after his bone-chilling discovery. Instead, he’s immediately drawn to Bonnie’s greenroom, where workers are already milling around.

Something short circuits when he sees them carrying boxes of stuff out— Bonnie’s possessions — and he can’t move fast enough to stop them.

“What’s going on?” He asks, frantically, but he already knows. It happened before with Foxy— but even then, it took weeks. 

The nearest employee sets down a box— he can spy plushies, merch, and even drawings in it— and wipes the beads of sweat off their forehead. “Corporate wants Monty in by next week,” they explain swiftly.

Freddy shakes his head. “No! That cannot be right. He just needs repairs!”

And he knows he’s just trying to assure himself.

He didn’t know how to deal with grief. When Foxy was replaced, he hardly noticed. The pirate’s stuff was all located by the Daycare, in Pirates Cove, and the fox himself never saw the band anyways. 

There was a part of him that missed Foxy, but it was never debilitating. This, however, promised to haunt his days and ruin his nights.

The employee doesn’t share any sympathy. “Sorry, man. Boss’s orders.”

Freddy feels utterly blank — all at once, he can’t pinpoint any thought or feeling he has, and he can only think of one thing he has to do.

“At least let me have that box,” he says, begs, and points a single claw at the box on the ground. “If it is just going to be thrown out.”

Shrugging, the worker steps back. “Help yourself, man. They want it all in the dumpsters by opening tomorrow.”

Freddy quickly scoops up the box, dimly noting its weight. “Thank you. I really appreciate it,” he manages to say, and hurries off to his own room.

He stores the box in the storage room by his elevator, and he still lacks any cognitive thought to place how he’s feeling. 

Weakly, he sends out a message on the network, something that reads as a question despite the fact Freddy doesn’t know what to ask. Surprisingly, a new voice responds, and Freddy hardly makes it out of his greenroom before he sees the owner of the voice.

Monty was holding up his claws to Bonnie’s greenroom sign, squinting and tilting his head as he framed it out. Freddy approaches, prepared to greet him with the best act of diplomacy he could manage, when Monty laughs. “Whatcha think, Fazbear? I always did look good in neon.”

Freddy pauses, following his gaze. “I don’t quite follow.”

“Well, it’ll be my room now,” Monty says, a little too gleefully. “Bonnie’d want me to have it.”

“Which is why you are not sad,” Freddy observes neutrally.

“‘Course I’m sad,” Monty replies with a shielded expression. “But he’d not want us to mope or anythin’. I mean, it’s real horrible what happened to him, but they’ll repair him in a few months or so. You shoulda seen him.”

Freddy looks frightened. “You saw him?”

Shrugging, Monty turns to him.

“Yeah, man, it was intense. The kids got carried away while bowling, and he got caught in the crossfire,” he explains, flicking his glasses down his snout, promptly shielding his eyes. 

“Bowling got that unruly?” Freddy questions, finding it hard to believe that bowling got the rabbit decommissioned.

Bowling , he thinks strangely, that should not have occurred after showtime on Sunday…

The bowling alley was totalled— that much was true— but not from bowling. Freddy may have been a bit oblivious at times, but not this naive.

“Enough so they aren’t pointing the big guy together right away,” Monty shrugs. “A big shame. Hope I can do the bass some justice.”

Unease creeps back into Freddy’s thoughts. Freddy and Bonnie were close— closer than he could even fathom, but Bonnie and Monty were the very definitions of the two sides of one coin. Both reckless in nature, and bold and loud, they complimented each other in every aspect.

It made him extremely confused as to the gator’s reaction, especially the casual way he brushed off the brunt of Freddy’s questions.

Freddy has to fight back a wave of annoyance in lieu of Monty’s words. “I think he’d appreciate some mourning,” his tone borders on the edge. 

Before Monty can respond—and judging by the look on his face, it was going to spark an argument— Chica comes rushing around the corner, Roxy in tow.

“Oh, Freddy!” She cries, throwing herself into his chest. “He can’t be gone!”

Monty steps back from both of them, crossing his arms. There's a noticeable shift of his expression.

Freddy doesn’t hesitate to pull her close, thankful that someone was sharing his grief.

And, perhaps the most unlikely of all, Roxy joins the hug too, silently.

“We— we should have checked !” Chica sobs. “I’m such a terrible friend!”

“Chica!” Freddy attempts to comfort her, “You know how he is. He has always been a mystery. We cannot blame ourselves.”

“But— two days, Freddy! Two days and he was laying somewhere waiting— what if he was alive?”

Freddy shudders at the possibility, but tries not to entertain it. “He wasn’t. He would have contacted us,” he assures her.

She doesn’t look convinced, and he doesn’t feel it either. Roxy draws away, and it’s then he takes notice of the tote bag she has on her shoulder.

Still quiet, she offers the bag to all of them. There were five bowling balls in the bag— how did she hold so many? — and Freddy realizes it’s their bowling balls.

“To remember him,” Roxy says simply. “I think you should have his, Freddy.”

Roxy takes out the baby blue bowling ball and hands it to him. 

Each time he enters their green rooms, he tries not to look at the floor, where the bowling balls stay idle, never to go racing down the lanes again.

Monty keeps a bowling ball too. Freddy’s not sure why.

—

Most nights, there was hardly anything to watch.

The days were far more busy— practically any location had some sort of action, even the bowling alley, which started to appeal to the older audience of the pizzaria. 

It hurt a little; having all those people there, so close to him, yet invisible. Hidden away.

But this night… This was different. Extremely different.

There was a disturbance— a brief interference when attempting to connect to the floor bots. Something was up, and it had to do with the figures dashing back and forth in basically every hallway there was.

One of them was Freddy, recognizable for his orange paint job and broad stature. The other one was indecipherable— a little kid, most likely, with brown hair. With a staticy audio to go off of, the kid was nameless. 

But perhaps the most strange thing about the sight was the chasing. Just by the blurry pictures alone, and how close to the floor bots the kid tended to get, it was obvious the child was crying. The scene often showed the slow, almost hunting behavior of the other animatronics as they paced by the hiding spot, jaws moving in a threatening way.

“ Your parents want you to follow me!”

“Do you really think we won’t find you?”

“Run, run, run !”

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

“I bet you don’t even have friends.”

“You can hide, but you can’t hide .”

It was not how the Pizzaplex operated on any night, and it was extremely distressing to watch.

The floor bot was located in the kitchen, right beside the compactor. It typically sat there, scanning for messes and spills, which were bound to happen.

It was usually alone, and not a prime location to view much of anything. 

The camera shakes slightly, and the boy darts in front of the bot. He’d just carried a box into the compactor, and now he waited with wide eyes beside the button.

There was a sense of dread about what was going to come next.

Flinching, the boy crouches lower beside the button. His gaze leads to Chica as she stomps around the corner, and the floor bot pivots to watch her.

Wordlessly, forever silent, the bot is helpless to warn her of the impending danger. Yet, it’s not sure if it wants to , after seeing the chicken’s sporadic behavior all evening.

But that’s— not…h…

The thoughts fizzle out of existence, as a result of ruptured programming and a lack of processors. Oh well.

Quickly as he can, the boy slaps the button to the compactor, and surges forward to push Chica into the compactor.

The floor bot watches in horror as the animatronic is crushed brutally and horrendously, and the child lets out an ear-piercing scream as he’s dragged down into the trash pile.

There aren’t any floor bots in the trash pit. It seems whatever happens down there will stay in the dark.

—

From a perspective high above the racetrack, another floor bot watches as a go-kart slams into Roxy at top speed.

The boy from earlier rolls out, mostly unharmed, and sits up on his palms to peer after the collision.

Roxy doesn’t get up for a while. When she finally does, she has no eyes, and she looks to be a mess. 

And there’s nothing the floorbot can do to help.

—

Monty splits in half upon impact of the catwalks and the support beams.

This time, the floorbot isn’t able to see the aftermath clearly, but the collision makes some water from the pools spill on the floor. It beeps angrily, and zips across from the maintenance hallways to dutifully guard the puddle— and the broken gator.

As forcefully as the viewer can manage, the floorbot inches closer to the dilapidated bot, but there’s not much the floorbot can do besides be there.

And, speaking from experience, they don’t think it’s enough.

Chapter Text

Gregory lingers just outside the doors, pulling on his fingers.

Inside, he can barely see the orange bear disappear from the windows, going deeper into the Pizzaplex. 

The night was over. He’d spent six hours running around attempting to survive— destroying the other bots, collecting items, and scouring the Pizzaplex for clues.

Yet, he wasn’t any closer to the final secret. There was something under the raceway, but there was no way he could get down there without being hurt. Freddy showed apprehensiveness about going— so, they ‘defeated’ Vanny. By playing the Princess Quest games, he’d managed to free the bunny of their mind control.

And, for the moment, it appeared to work on the other animatronics. They were still totaled, and he ran into Chica on the way out.

With her broken casing and missing voice box, she only stared at him. 

Freddy escorted him to the exit, and urged him to leave. After a tearful and solemn goodbye, Gregory walked out the front doors to his new life beyond the Pizzaplex…

Hypothetically.

The daytime employees start to enter the building. Two of them get caught talking to each other outside, one worker holding the door for the other, and Gregory manages to sneak right back in for another day.

He’s not sure what drives him to do so. It certainly wasn’t the food, or the company… But something said his story wasn’t finished.

Gregory would deny having a hero’s complex, but after surviving a single night at Freddy’s he thought he deserved some credit— and some bragging rights.

Sneaking through the vents and the halls all over again, he hears the employees' outrage when they find the state of the Pizzaplex. Very soon after, an announcement confirmed that the mall was closed for repairs. 

Gregory still avoids Freddy, however, even as the bear freely roams the complex. He doesn’t want to explain why he's back, or what his intentions are…

Which, he doesn’t really know what they are. All he knows is that the Pizzaplex is interesting, and Freddy cared about him, and there was so much to learn and experience.

The danger was… less than superb, but with Vanny out of the picture, he hoped things would be a bit safer.

He creeps around a corner, checking his Fazwatch. Freddy looked to be in his room, so Gregory was free to head to the main atrium.

Gregory goes to step out of the vent, practically leaping out of his skin at the sight of a wet floor bot. A bright yellow one sat beside his vent, and was looking at him with boring eyes.

“Ahh!” He yelps, slamming his elbow into the metal vent. “ Ow.” He rubs his arm. “Shit, you guys are scary.”

The bot swivels a little, its eyes dimming.

He squints. “That was weird. I know you follow movement, or whatever, but you just did… something way different. Are you glitching, little guy?”

And to his ultimate surprise, the bot shakes its head— or rather, its entire body.

Gregory clambers out of the vent and dusts off his clothes. “Can all of you do that?”

The bot doesn’t move.

“I mean, the communication. Do they all shake their heads?”

It appears that the thing tries to nod— a tiny shake back and forth, and Gregory realizes he needs a different way to communicate.

“Okay, wait. Left for no, right for yes.”

The bot pauses again, eyes growing fainter.

Gregory kneels down in front of it. “Do you know your left and rights?”

It shakes its head.

“That’s okay! A little lame, but we all start somewhere. That is left—” he points to the bot’s left, “And this is right. Left for no, right for yes,” he reiterates.

The yellow bot turns to the right, and Gregory grins. “Nice, okay! That’s a start. So you guys can all communicate?”

A yes.

“That’s cool. Wait, are you all one person, or multiple?”

It almost visually sighs. Gregory awaits a response, but realizes his question had two parts. “Ah, shoot. My bad. Um, are you one person?”

Another yes.

“Sick!” Gregory yells, and immediately cups his mouth. He peers around anxiously, afraid someone heard him.

For a moment, the bot appears to reset— it turns back to Gregory fully, but stares even blanker than before.

Gregory winces. Even the bot grew sick of him.

But soon the floor bot glowed brighter again, shaking itself slightly, before giving Gregory a pointed no. 

“What?”

Another no.

He pauses, racking his head for what just happened. And then… “Oh! Wait, did you go to check if someone heard me?”

Enthusiastically, the bot shakes yes repeatedly. Gregory feels a swarm of pride. “Well, thanks! You’re the nicest thing here… besides Freddy.”

Humorously, he adds, “And maybe the DJ. I’m told he’s nice, but in my experience… Not quite sure yet.”

The bot signals a yes, and then pointedly looks in one direction. Gregory turns to follow its gaze. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

Yes. 

Gregory pauses, rubbing his forehead. “Are you trying to tell me something about Freddy?”

No. 

“A person?”

No.

“Anybody?”

No.

“A place?”

Yes!

Gregory pumps his fist again. “Look at us! Okay, how about this… Can you look in the direction I need to go for another bot? And then one-by-one you can lead me to where you want me. But, uh, can we avoid Freddy?”

The bot shakes its head yes, but looks almost questioning. “I… Well, I shouldn’t be here. Wait! You’ve been watching me! You know that!”

Yes.

“Freddy wanted me to leave to be safe,” he explains deftly. “But I wanna stay. Especially if you’ve got something to show me!”

The bot swivels sharply to its right, and stares straight ahead.  

Gregory takes that as a sign that their conversation was momentarily paused, and he goes on to follow the bot’s line of sight. It takes a few minutes, but he finds another bot that points him in a new direction.

There's a solid twenty minutes where he gets lost. The bots had no way to communicate just by looking that he had to go upstairs, and after having to ask, it made the task a little easier. 

He roams the third floor, passing past the Fazarcade and the small merch vendors scattered about. With more human workers around, it was more difficult to get about, but he made due.

The other animatronics were nowhere to be seen. He supposes they’re being repaired— he’d heard Chica’s screech once or twice walking around, but it was often accompanied by human voices.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to find another wet floor bot on the walkways, so he went inside the first area he saw after the arcade.

Bonnie Bowling was empty unlike the rest of the Pizzaplex. The lanes were dimly lit, and the patrolling STAFF bots were deactivated. Even the bots at the counter were slouched over— most likely a protocol for checking their code and functionality while the Pizzaplex underwent repairs.

He checked his Fazwatch and found that Freddy was now near the mainstage, but had no intentions of heading this way.

Peering around the dark area, he catches sight of a floor bot spinning viciously. He stifles a laugh and jogs over, sitting down on his knees. “Hi! Sorry that took me a while.”

The bot jerks left, staring blankly into the distance.

Gregory squints. “Where’s the next bot?”

No response.

“Wait, so am I here? The bowling alley?”

No.

He deflates a little. “Do I have to go find what you want me to find by myself?”

The bot hesitates, then makes another pointed look towards the lanes. Gregory follows his gaze, specifically to the last lane.

Gregory gets up, trying to shake the worried expression of his face, then heads down the lane. He’s careful to keep his balance, aware of the bot’s artificial eyes on him, and he kneels before the wall over the last lane.

Leaning down, he peers underneath it. To his surprise, there was a cement wall behind the sign with a gaping hole. He gasped, and without waiting for an indication from the last bot, he crawled under the lane mechanisms and through the hole in the wall.

He comes across another wall with yet another crater through the middle. Rubble coats the floor, and the support beams were fractured and splintered. Gregory skims his fingers over the damage, frowning. “How did…?”

Shaking his head as he was unable to receive an answer, he continues on.

A narrow service hallway leads him further into the back rooms, and he nervously notes the long scratch marks around him, as if someone had dragged their claws as they walked through the passageway.

Gregory takes another turn towards a dimly lit room, clicking his flashlight on and off to confirm, and climbing over the rubble.

He lands in the final room. It had a few bowling balls on a rack, and pale, undecorated cement walls.

Four floor bots turned to him at once, gaze hopeful.

Slowly, his eyes drop to the floor. There was wreckage and junk— pebbles were everywhere, and there were jagged bits of plastic everywhere.

But perhaps the most alarming was the mangled animatronic between the floor bots.

Gregory yelps, and staggers back, grasping for purchase on the wall. He points his flashlight at the blue casing, chest heaving as he inspects the damage.

One of the floor bots closest to him seemed to understand his hesitance, and shook its head no. 

At a snail's pace, Gregory ventures back into the room, creeping along the floor. He tentatively reaches out and prods the animatronic, but it doesn't move.

He lets out a sigh of relief, and sits back on the floor, crossing his legs. 

From his viewpoint, he could identify the features on the robot— a raspberry red paint on the torso and waist, and baby blue paint on the arms, legs, and face. Dark blue accented the connecting points of the robot, such as its feet and shoulders, and its muzzle was white.

Gregory reaches out again, dragging his fingers across what appeared to be an ear, and a rather long one at that.

It dawns on him in a rush.

“Bonnie?” 

—

There weren’t many places in the Pizzaplex where a six-foot animatronic could hide.

With their built-in GPS, and connection to the network, it was extremely easy to find them, no matter how well they hid.

That was Bonnie’s predicament as he raced up the escalator, pursuer hot on his tail, his systems straining to keep up.

Bonnie finally reached the third floor, and glanced behind him with his eyes wide. Monty snarled, reaching for the nearest item— a stroller— and lobbed it at Bonnie.

The bunny yelped and nimbly dodged, and leapt back into the chase. He turned into his bowling alley— perhaps he would gain an upper hand there— and slowed to a stop.

A cheerful message read across his mind— I am finished with my tasks for the night! Are you free?

His heart ached slightly, but he has a bigger pain to worry about as he gets clocked in the side by a stray bowling shoe.

Monty rounded on him, roaring, and reached for anything he could grab. His claws shred the couches as he advanced, and he grabbed two bowling balls.

Bonnie moved fast enough to escape the wrath of one, but the second crashed into his shoulder and he made a strangled sound of pain.

Warnings flitted across his vision, and he stumbled. “Monty! Stop! ” He pleaded weakly, searching for another way out.

The gator repeated the same, eerie phrase: “Disassemble Bonnie!”

Bonnie pushed a table between them as the gator went to charge him, and spun on his heels deeper into the alley. Chairs and more bowling balls went sailing past him, and he had to wonder how the commotion wasn’t attracting anyone to investigate.

He could have called Freddy. He probably should have, but he didn’t want the bear getting hurt— or worse: disassembled.

It appeared as if that was going to be Bonnie’s fate either way.

“Monty!” Bonnie yelled again, another frail attempt to stop his rampage. “It’s me! Your friend! You wouldn’t hurt me!”

The gator paused its charge for a brief second, and Bonnie turned just in time to watch Monty’s eyes flicker. The purple hue glowed red, and Bonnie let out a sigh of relief.

Just for a potted plant to go straight into his snout.

Monty laughed maniacally, then continued to pursue— Bonnie noted his purple eyes once more— and slashed his claws into the wooden floors.

Bonnie knew of a cramped spot he could possibly get away in— the bowling lanes had a single hallway that allowed for maintenance to easily access each one. He just had to get into that hallway and keep running. 

He ducked under one of the lanes, but came to the terrible conclusion he couldn’t fit. Bonnie immediately went to backtrack, but a bowling ball crashed through the opening over him and broke the wooden frame.

Now, the opening was plenty wide enough if he crawled, so Bonnie dove back forward and pulled himself through the gap.

Monty lunged and curled his claws around Bonnie’s ankle, grinning wickedly. Bonnie kicked his snout with his free leg, and scampered through the opening.

He stood on the other side, peering back and forth. This wasn’t the service hallway!

It appeared as though this particular lane had been blocked off. There was a half-wall to his left, and a cement wall in front of him. 

Before he could make a decision, and before he could even notice how far the gator had progressed, Monty crawled out of the gap and leapt at Bonnie with his spring-loaded legs. Bonnie squealed and went careening backwards into the cement wall…

And it collapsed.

There was now a small opening in the wall, and Bonnie forced himself through it, only to realize there was another wall.

Monty roared and lunged again, but this time, Bonnie squeezed against the side wall so that the gator tackled the cement in front of him instead. 

Another gap was created, and Bonnie jumped past Monty to escape down the newly opened hallway.

For a second, he saw freedom— a long hallway that would surely lead to another, and another, and eventually out, but he was cruelly mistaken.

The hallway was a dead end. 

Off to the right was a final room, and Bonnie ducked into it. 

There was a bowling rack on the floor, as if someone had intended to have a lane back here. It was barren and old, and worse of all, it had bowling balls.

Monty followed close behind, snarling as he approached the cornered rabbit. 

Bonnie whimpered, his voice box staticky and weak. “Please! Snap out of it! I’m your friend! ”

The gator laughed, and surged forward. His claws wrapped around Bonnie’s neck, and slammed him into the rock wall beside them.

Bonnie cried out as more errors started to limit his functions. His processors were overheating, and his senses were fading quickly.

Monty took his free hand and slashed downwards, caving Bonnie’s casing and scoring his wires. With a sickly grin, the animatronic went back for a second swing, and tore out every mechanism beside the endo itself.

Barely online, Bonnie made a feeble attempt to push Monty off of him, but his efforts rendered useless.

So this is it, he mulled, glitches flashing past his inner dialogue. Not on my bingo card, that’s for sure…

He gets a face-full of Monty’s bared teeth, grinning as if he was enjoying this. But Bonnie knew him— a big softie at heart, with a meanstreak. Fiercely loyal and protective, he always had Bonnie’s back.

It was Bonnie who encouraged the others to accept Monty into their circle. He didn’t think it was fair to outcast the animatronic solely because he wasn’t a true asset to the band; he had sentient thoughts just as the rest of them.

Bonnie convinced the others to know the gator and befriend him. Monty owed everything to that damn bunny, and made sure Bonnie knew it. Shadowing him when swarms of fans got too hectic, fetching him a technician when injured. Monty and Freddy often competed to see who could service Bonnie the most— and the girls found that extremely entertaining.

Monty was his best friend, the person he could raid gift shops with, the person he could steal Roxy’s make-up with, and the person he could talk to. Freddy may have been his soulmate, but he fully believed Monty was his twinflame. 

And never, never, would the gator intentionally harm him.

“M—monty,” he forced out, his voice entirely unlike him. “It’s not— not— your fault.”

He would hate for his friend to spend the rest of his existence mourning over his actions. If Bonnie couldn’t live on, he could at least make sure Monty didn’t suffer for it.

For a brief second, Monty’s eyes flashed again. His expression became one of shock, and his grip loosened slightly around Bonnie.

The rabbit managed to flash him a small, weak smile, and Monty’s face twisted back into contempt.

Monty reached down and grabbed a bowling ball, and in his sickly voice, he growled, “Bye bye, bunny.”

Bonnie watched in horror as the bowling ball descended into his head.  There was an ear-splintering crack, and immediately everything went dark, and his body fell forward onto the pavement.

He’s not sure how long it lasts until his systems reboot. Every warning known to man greeted his gaze, and they slowly disappeared in favor of becoming icons on the corners. 

Monty stood over him, his eyes sharp and red.

“Did—” he said, looking horrified. He scanned his arms and chest, full of tiny scratches and dents, and made a choked sound.

“Bonnie,” he whispered. “Oh my god. I— I killed him!”

His systems go dim again, and he’s only aware of his hearing. There’s a quiet shuffle, and then a lot of scraping. His sensors attempt to deliver information to his circuits, but Bonnie can’t read the code anymore.

“I’m so sorry,” the gator said, hardly audible. “I’m so sorry… I don’t know… Bon, ” he stammered, his tone laden with anguish. “I couldn’t— I tried — I didn’t mean to. ”

Bonnie wanted to say, I know, but nothing works in his favor. He stayed broken, malfunctioning and sparking on the rock floor. Another wave of errors rattled his endoskeleton, and he plunged back into unconsciousness. 

It’s a long time before his eyes work again. He’s facing upwards now— he could have sworn his muzzle was planted in the concrete.

From the corner of the room, four floor bots had come rushing towards him and dutifully took their post at each limb. Their eyes flickered, staring blankly.

It’s a miracle he’s alive. His structurally integral wires were shorting from the hole in his chest, and his endo was cracked in countless places. He didn’t have any control over his limbs— only his mind, sight, and hearing could be utilized.

Weakly, he tried to call out with his voice box— “ Help !”

The sound is pitiful, but Bonnie tried again. “Is anyone the—th—there?”

Bonnie heard a loud crack and his chest shot a few sparks everywhere. He tried to speak again, but it seemed his voice box and his speakers were completely ruined.

So much for that plan.

Frantically, he focused his energy on his battery. It appeared to be broken— he was fully charged before the attack, and usually, a battery could last him a few hours during the day when he was using all his functions. Now, he only had one processor to run… surely the battery couldn’t die that quickly?

After a brief test of anything he could control, he finds his inner monologue mostly untouched. Occasionally, he starts to think something, but his coding scrambles the words and he forgets what he was thinking in the first place. It makes it difficult to get a diagnosis of his current state, but it was better than the alternative.

Bonnie accessed his memory bank. Despite the bowling ball to the head, his chip seemed entirely intact. A blessing in disguise; he finds every memory he ever had: memories with Freddy, and the gang, and every waking moment of his life. They were untouched, and free to revisit at any time.

A few more minutes of exploring leads him to locating the file he’d uploaded from the wet floor bots’ network, and he managed to encrypt his connection and booted up a luckily undamaged system.

He wasn’t on the main network anymore. The wiring was fried. But the connection to the floor bots… stabilized. 

In awe, he found himself looking across the entire Pizzaplex from the eyes of the floor bots.

Bonnie experimented with shaking the bots back and forth, and to his pleasure, the bots followed his commands easily. He couldn’t move them besides that, as that wasn’t part of the programming he installed onto himself, but perhaps their vision was enough.

Now… he just had to get someone’s attention.

—

The floor bot gave him a quick answer— yes.

“I— we— you were decommissioned! How are you— you’re talking to me through the bots— does anyone know?”

Wincing, the floor bots all share a look.

“Oh, sorry. My bad.” Gregory sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. “Do the others know you’re here?”

No. 

“They would have rescued you if they did…” Gregory muses. “I can’t believe it. All this time! You were back here! Freddy and I came up here and you were so close! He misses you a lot, you know! But now that I know where you are…”

He starts to ramble a little, but the rabbit’s eyes don’t dim and the bots stay focused on him.

Slowly, Gregory leans forward and puts a hand on Bonnie’s casing. “You’ve been here waiting for someone to find you, haven’t you?”

Almost sadly, the bot answers, yes.

“And you trusted me,” Gregory continues, face pitched. “Even though I destroyed your friends and broke in here… you trusted me. Not like you had a lot of options, but…”

Bonnie’s casing remains unmoving. Gregory frowns. “I’m sorry, Bonnie.”

With the bot’s gazes on him, he promises, “I’ll try to fix you.”

Then, as if it occurred to him, “What happened to you?”

Despite the fact the bots really don’t have any expression, Gregory can practically read the sarcasm on their faces. He chuckles. “It’s kind of hard to get used to that… I’m sorry. Okay, um, did someone do this to you?”

Eventually, after what must have been thirty minutes of yes or no questions, Gregory learns it was Monty who mutilated Bonnie. However, there was a nuance with that information— Bonnie couldn’t communicate what it was, but he told Gregory that he didn’t blame Monty in any way for it.

A few minutes after their conversation, when Gregory is surveying the damage to Bonnie’s systems, the bunny’s eyes flicker. Gregory snaps upwards. “Are you okay?”

Yes.

“Is your battery dying?”

A slight hesitation, and a slight no. 

“Uh… sleep mode? Right?”

This one earned him a yes. “Ah, okay. Um, before you do that… What do you think about my plan? I’ll go to parts and service and see if they have your blueprint… you do have a schema, right?”

Yes.

“Hopefully they still have it. And then I’ll grab some other parts or whatever. Does that sound good?”

Yes.

Gregory watched the floor bots lose their bright glow, and Bonnie’s eyes go dark. Slowly, he leaves the room in search of parts and service, and hopefully a way to repair the rabbit.

It gets him thinking about a lot of things. On one hand, Bonnie was friendly, by all means. He couldn’t really test that precisely— the animatronic was on his last limbs; no, no limbs at all — but it seemed he was communicative and intelligent despite his state of body.

Just like Freddy.

So, did that mean the rest of them were like that too?

And… he harmed them.

I would have died, Gregory protests to himself. I did what I needed to do.

Did he really need to destroy them, though? He could outrun them just fine, and hide effectively.

They were going to find me. 

He feels sick with just the thought of it: they were all sentient. 

Gregory then wonders if Bonnie feels pain of any sort. He recalls Freddy limping during the night— maybe from scrapping with the other animatronics, or fighting the virus, but he clutched his chest and hunkered over. It mirrored what a human would look like if they were injured.

So, was he mimicking it? Or was it genuine? Because, depending on the answer, it could answer a majority of his questions. If they could mimic human actions perfectly, they could mimic human emotions, and… then it was artificial, right? 

Finally, he thinks clearly, how smart are these guys?

The selfish part of him wants to leave. It’s been what the voice in his head has been urging for over twenty-four hours now, and it’s the logical choice.

But… not really the fun one.

And part of him feels guilty for all that’s happened to the animatronics, specifically Freddy. Maybe he could repair Bonnie and then be on his way.

Yes, Gregory accepts. That’ll work. 

He just has to repair him first, which is a matter of multiple conjectures.

He’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it; that is, if he doesn’t burn it first.

Chapter Text

The journey was precarious.

Practically every employee at the Pizzaplex was in parts and service, as well as all the mangled animatronics. Gregory had a hard time sneaking past everyone, to the point where he stole a technician’s coat and wore it in plain sight.

No one questioned him, and if they had, he would have told them he was working an internship… or something.

Gregory skirts around the edge of the room and dips into the hallways. A few rooms with files sat on his right, while the garage— rather, basement— branched to his left.

Opting to prolong the inevitable, he ducks into the file room and locks the door behind him. Using a step stool, Gregory thumbs through the files until he notices the method of which they’re organized.

He would have expected maybe alphabetically, but of course, it was by color, and consequently date. The colors correspond to different subheadings— if it had to do with an animatronic, it was purple, and if it was a lawsuit, it was green.

Unfortunately, many of the files had multiple colors, so searching just for a purple file wasn’t very successful. He had no idea where he’d find Bonnie’s file; it could have been tossed out after Bonnie was.

Luckily, he references his Fazwatch for the dates of Bonnie’s disappearance. He remembers reading something about Bonnie entering Monty Golf.

The date read about two years ago. A shiver passes by his spine— the rabbit had been rotting for that long?

It was a miracle his battery still operated.

The email narrowed down Gregory’s search substantially. Any files from before 2025 were thoroughly ignored, and any within the last year were also not the subject of his hunt.

Soon, he spots a purple-labeled folder within the timeframe of 2026, and he finally spots it. It has a red label on it, too, indicating administrative. 

Well, Gregory thinks, opening the folder, if it was only for admins, what’s it doing here?

He’ll never get over the security level of this damned institute. If he was any older, he’d take full advantage of their technology and sell it on the black market.

Rolling his eyes, Gregory finds a few reports. Some of them are from as early as 2020, a poorly-drawn sketch of Bonnie’s first design. Most of them are schemas, and update logs. He found the most recent one, ensuring it existed, and tucked it under his arm.

He took the whole folder, just in case. He could use the light reading.

Gregory unlocks the door and skips across the gap in order to entire the storage rooms. He shivers at the thought of the countless endoskeletons milling about. Although unsure about the sheer extent of the animatronics’ intelligence, he’s pretty positive on one thing: the endoskeletons had no personality whatsoever.

Really, their only goal was to put him down. 

“Ugh,” he mumbles, crawling under an opening-garage door. “If I’m lucky, they’ll finish the job this time.”

Gregory pauses on the other side, swallowing the lump in his throat. He shines his light down the winding hall, catching on a single endoskeleton. Its shadow flickers with his light, but the thing was unflinching, no matter how hard his brain was trying to trick him.

As the garage settles behind him, a small gust of wind stirs a piece of paper. Gregory swivels to pinpoint the sound, but stays vigilant about the nearby endo.

He spots a cardboard box just beyond the door, with the note attacked on the side. He points his flashlight at it, revealing the box was intended for the other animatronics, as told by the note that said repairs xx/xx .

It seemed some worker left it there, but there was no telling when they’d return.

Gregory grabs the box, and notices a good amount of spare parts in it. He spots feet, fingers, and eyeballs; the bottom of the box had longer metal rods composed of wires and endoskeleton pieces.

With the blueprints for Bonnie’s model, he turns on his heel and leaves the garage for another day. Naturally, he’s not all that disappointed to avoid this segment of the Pizzaplex.

As he breezes through the main parts and service area— it must be lunch time, because the bot in the cylinder remains in sleep mode with no technicians in sight—  he tosses in a few more basic parts— a voice box, extra wires, extension cords, and tools.

A brief look over his shoulder confirms the identity of the bot— Roxy was completely idle, stripped to her bare endoskeleton and her eyes still missing.

Gregory clutches the box closer, and flees the room as fast as he can.

Never once did he stop; not during the night, not while repairing Bonnie. His life remained in constant movement. He’s afraid the moment it slows, he’ll think, and thinking did him more harm than good.

By the time he made it back to the bowling alley, the hour was approaching one in the afternoon. 

Slowly, he dragged all his supplies through the gaps in the wall, and returned to the animatronic’s side. He poorly masked his yawn as he stumbled into the room, and sat down on the floor.

Around him, the floor bots connected to the animatronic, and Bonnie’s eyes gleamed.

Gregory gives him a lazy wave. “I got some stuff. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I did it for Freddy, so it can’t be too hard.”

He starts to map out his plan of action. The first thing has to be the wires in his chest, and around his neck. Then he could remove the casing and fix the rest of the internal errors.

Bonnie’s eyes go dim again, but Gregory pays no mind while he works. He uses duct tape to peel back the damage and line the cracks on Bonnie’s shell so that nothing else gets severed during the repairs.

It’s a tedious process. Luckily, a lot of his essential wires had easy slots to be plugged in and out, and he was able to replace those with ease.

For a few hours, he works solely on the chest damage. 

During these hours, he finds it rather entertaining just to talk. About what and why, and everything in between. Bonnie’s a good listener, although it's not like he can go anywhere.

“I don’t know if you realized this, but the kitchen has a machine dedicated solely for non-meat. How gross is that? Do you know what that is?”

“Are the animatronics actually nice? Like, I don’t really know. I thought they were, but then I almost got killed— remember that? —so I’m a little on the fence. Why didn’t Freddy try to kill me?”

“...Actually, why did the others try to kill me? What’s that about?”

“I keep remembering that nearly dying to robots isn’t some funny joke for my future, and actually something that probably screwed me up. But, right now, I think it’s a little funny. Don’t you?”

“The elevator music sucks, for the record.”

“Were you actually good at bowling? Like, how is that programmed? Or did you have to learn?”

(Bonnie answers that one. The floor bots signal a yes, indicating it was both practicing and programming that got him up to par.)

“Did you see Vanny? I don’t really understand her. Was she the one controlling the bots? And how did she get a mask that… controlled her? You think I’ll see her again? Even though she tried to kill me— apparently I’m on a top ten most wanted dead list out there— I don’t really hold a grudge. Should I?”

Finally, as his second day trickles into night, he quietly admits, “I’m still scared. I don’t think I should be, but I am. I don’t really have—” he pauses, knitting his eyebrows, “—anything better to do, but…”

Bonnie’s eyes flicker slightly. The floor bots watch him closely, a thrum emitting from each one. Gregory cracks a small, weak smile. 

“Sorry. I’m just in my head. I don’t know if you can relate, but you ever feel like something’s keeping you here? Okay, wait, that doesn’t—” Gregory starts to giggle, and even Bonnie appears to laugh as one of the floor bots spins in a circle.

“What I meant,” Gregory corrects, “is like, a purpose, or something. You ever think there’s something more out there for you?” He waits a few seconds. “I guess not. You’re built to perform. Prolly not much out there besides that, am I right?”

Bonnie signals a no. 

“Is— was — life here that interesting?” Gregory pries.

Yes. 

“Well, okay. Sick.” Gregory stretches lazily. “Ugh, this is impossible. I’ve burnt my finger like three times trying to reconnect the wires.”

All of the floor bots glow brightly in alarm.

“Oh, please,” Gregory drags a hand down his face. “You can drop the act. Years up here rotting away and you still have your protect children coding? C’mon, can’t you see I can fend for myself?”

The bots manage to give the effect of an expression full of skepticism. Gregory remains unbudging. 

“I’m gonna do all this work to fix you and you’re gonna be just like Freddy. One Freddy was fine, two Freddy’s— that’s where I draw the line!”

Curiously, Bonnie’s bots swivel slightly. Gregory squints. “Another game of charades? Okay… Was it something I said?”

Yes. 

“Uh… work? ”

No.

“Freddy?”

Yes.

“What about him? Like, anything?”

Yes. 

“I’m gonna assume you saw most of it, but, uh, I guess you didn’t see how we met, did you?”

The bots signal no. Gregory nods thoughtfully. “‘Kay, well… I don’t wanna get into the specifics, but I stole some things from the shops,” he chuckles. “Like, these shoes.”

He holds up his leg, drawing attention to his infamously-dubbed Fazshoes. “And security was after me. Mostly Vanessa—” the name makes his mind swarm with unpleasant memories, “—but yeah, they were chasing me during the performance.”

Gregory leans back against the concrete wall, rolling his head back and glancing up. Above him, he notices the distinct markings of the chipped and scraped cement, and he involuntarily shudders.

Bonnie doesn’t miss the gesture, but has no means to communicate some sort of assurance.

“Um, anyways,” Gregory continues, clearing his throat. “Freddy collapsed or whatever, and I dunno how I got away with it, but I crawled into his stomach hatch. He was so worried when he found out I was in there,” Gregory chuckles. “So, yeah. Then I got stuck in here, got a little too silly, and now we’re here!”

The floor bot closest to him spins in a circle, which Gregory has taken to interpreting as a laugh. He sighs, deflating further. “You think that if I could fix you, I can fix the other ones?”

He purses his lips. “Or, I guess they’ve been fixed already…”

Bonnie doesn’t answer, so Gregory waits. He suspects the bunny is checking the cameras for him.

Gregory saw Roxy in parts and service, but there were three bots to be tended to. He suspects Monty will take the longest, considering he was severed in half, while Chica and Roxy’s repairs could take a few days.

A minute or two later, the bot answers: yes.

“Ooh,” Gregory groans. “Yay!!! Lucky me. Do they sound angry?”

No. 

“They are your friends, so forgive me for being skeptical,” Gregory replies. “Are they all operational? I’m assuming no, but…”

No.

“Is Roxy up?”

Yes.

Gregory sighs, peeling himself off the cement wall so that he was back at Bonnie’s side. His hands shake slightly, and the exhaustion starts to set in. 

He inhales sharply, and picks up his screwdriver, and starts to unscrew the plates on Bonnie’s chest.

It’s easy, finally, to ignore the things that gnaw on him— his hesitance to trust the other bots, or the sinking feeling that plagues his chest everytime he thinks of this horrid place.

And, as he slices his finger on yet another jagged edge, he realizes, if Monty did this…

Do the others know?

“Uh, Bonnie?” Gregory asks, quietly. The floor bots hum, staring off into the distance, but the rabbit seemed to be asleep. He shrugs off his doubts, but his mind creeps.

Just repair him and get out, Gregory reminds himself, and mistakenly spots the folder full of documents.

Curiously, he takes out one of the more recent ones. He pages through it, catching sight of a paragraph that seemed to be added on as an afterthought.

“ NOTES: Glamrock Bonnie will not be reinstalled due to cost and labor requirements. We will not be doing an evaluation. Contractors will be in shortly to seal off the room with concrete. 

Additionally, after several customer complaints, the corporation believes this is the best action going forward. Rebranding will commence immediately, starting with the installation of Montgomery Gator as the new bass…”

Gregory’s mouth draws into a thin line. Several customer complaints? 

He doesn’t get a chance to finish the document, because a rock to his left goes tumbling to the ground, a pin drop against the eerie silence. The hair on his neck stands on end.

Gregory whips around, coming face-to-snout with Roxy, back in her former glory.

Her fangs flashed from her jaws, and her sharp yellow eyes were trained on him with dangerous precision. Roxy’s ears pointed upwards, and she was smirking. 

Screaming, Gregory backpedals away, dropping the folders beside the bunny and crashing into a floor bot. The box of parts tumbles over, clanging loudly, and Gregory reaches into the pile blindly.

“There you are, brat,” Roxy growls. “I knew something was up.”

She flicks her tail harshly, and descends down the pile of boxes and rubble so that she’s completely in the room. Her face is unreadable, but her expression gleams with malevolence. 

At her full height, she’s still shorter than the other bots, but well above Gregory. She towers over his huddled figure, and the dim fluorescent light in the room (a lantern Gregory nabbed from the alley outside) casts her shadow onto him.

Bonnie’s eyes come powered on, and the floor bots immediately turn to Roxy. The one behind Gregory shifts so that it’s beside the boy, almost in a protective manner.

Roxy’s face falls to the motionless bunny, and she gasps. “ Bonnie?!”

She forgets Gregory entirely and drops to her knees to kneel beside him, and Gregory makes another choked sound at her sudden movement and scrambles away.

The wolf pauses, and her ferocious expression disappears. “Are you scared of me?”

Gregory nods slightly, and curls his fist around the screwdriver he located in the mess.

Roxy reacts strangely. She frowns, and her eyes flash in concern. “What? Why? I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I don’t believe that,” Gregory sniffles. And why would he? The last time he saw the wolf, she was crashing around the Pizzaplex in hazardous pursuit, calling out for him in order to capture and harm him.

She slowly sinks onto her butt, pulling her legs to her chest. A lot of her casing was unpainted, and she was still rough around the edges, but she appeared to be fully functioning. “Look, kid, I might have some quarrels with you, but I’ll never hurt you,” she mumbles.

There’s a manner she speaks— calmly, horribly monotone but devoid of the edge it used to carry. Roxy’s ears flatten, and her yellow eyes illuminate the small space.

Gregory swallows anxiously, his grip on the tool loosening. “You tried. ”

“I tried?” She repeated. “When?”

“Last night…” he drones out. “You and the others hunted me. Bonnie saw it.”

Roxy returns her attention to the bunny. She doesn’t reply for a second, expression drawn firm. “This is a lot to take in,” she says, her tail flicking at her side. “Let’s circle back to why he’s here in a moment. I hunted you?”

“You did.”

She frowns. “I don’t have a memory bank of last night. It’s fuzzy.”

“I think you were being controlled,” Gregory says helpfully, still tucked into the floor bot’s side. “I… I had to hurt you to stop you from getting me.”

Roxy reaches up to her eyes, her finger tracing her eyebrow. “You did this?”

Shrinking into himself, Gregory nods.

“That’s— I knew that,” Roxy voices. “Well, this is... I didn’t— my programming doesn’t let me hurt guests.”

Gregory crosses his arms, staring at the bot evenly. “I think that’s something you should decide not to do… not your coding.”

Looking surprised at his bluntness, Roxy tilts her head. “Huh. You’re right.” She makes a sound akin to clearing her throat, and corrects, “I’d never want to hurt a guest— programming or not.”

“Better,” Gregory accepts, the screwdriver nearly forgotten in his palm.

Roxy looks down at her casing, where the plain gray contrasted the painted bits. It seemed the technicians just wanted to get her up and running before getting her up to par. “I thought you did this as a… a prank,” she admits, pointing to her replacement parts.

“That would be a gnarly prank,” Gregory mutters. He purposely avoids eyeing her damage. It was strange, being so disadvantaged, yet to have done that. He’s not sure if he regrets it, but he feels sympathy at least.

The wolf gives him a small smile, her fangs safely tucked away. “It would be.” She pauses, picking at her claws, chipped from the night's adventures. “I’m sorry, Gregory. I thought we were helping recover a child… not hurt them.”

He nods slowly. “So… you don’t want to hurt me anymore, right?”

“Of course not. You’re safe with me.”

Gregory raises an eyebrow. “I dunno about that… but… I don’t really have a choice.”

Roxy then points at Bonnie. “So… I don’t have the words to explain how this is making me feel.”

He’s starkly reminded of their predicament. “I’m guessing you didn’t know he was here.”

“If I did, he wouldn’t be here, ” Roxy replies, and Gregory notes the edge of her voice. If he flinches in any manner, she notices, and immediately drops the bitterness.

“Uh, well…”

“Can he hear us?” She asks eagerly, tapping her claws on her knees.

One of the floor bots looks to the right, then back at Roxy. Gregory shrugs back at it, cracking a smile.

“And what are those creepy things up to?”

“I have a long story for you…”

Chapter Text

Roxy twists a lock of hair over her claw, her expression nearly unreadable as Gregory reaches the end of his story.

And finally, at the last word, she snarls. “When I get my claws on him…”

Gregory winces. “I feel like that’s not what Bonnie wanted to get across.”

“I’ve been told I have selective hearing,” Roxy hisses. “I can’t believe he did that to you… and he acted so… smug!”

The floor bots shake back and forth.

“I’m going to kill him.” Roxy ignores the bots’ movements.

“Could we focus on the other aspect of our conversation?” Gregory urges.

The wolf mimics the noise of exhaling loudly. “Whatever. I’m just glad you’re… alive, Bonnie,” she decides on. Flicking her gaze to Gregory, she continues, “And I’m still feeling bad about last night.”

Yawning, Gregory shrugs. “Oh well. Won’t happen again… right?”

“Right,” Roxy repeats. “Okay… so, how can I help?”

“Huh?”

Roxy scoffs. “You don’t seriously believe you can fix him yourself?”

Gregory crosses his arms, swallowing back another yawn. “ Maybe I could!”

The floor bots glance between the two, and then turns inwards to the bunny and stays facing that way.

Roxy reaches towards the box, and Gregory watches her claws with wide eyes. She catches his unease, and moves slower, keeping eye contact with him. 

He’s silently grateful.

She takes out a few wires and the voice box, scanning it over briefly. “You know what to do with this?”

“Uh, yeah. Thank you very much,” Gregory protests. “I can do that.”

“Mmm… Is that with the helper in parts in service, or without?”

“Okay, okay! So maybe I’m not an expert, but, this was—” he pauses, sighing. “I wanted to surprise Freddy… and I guess you guys, too, since you’re actually… nice .” He says, with air quotes.

Roxy cracks a smile. “Actually, that’s sweet… I usually don’t like cute things like that… but Bonnie was my best friend,” she says, angling her muzzle to the crumpled bunny. “I’d do anything to help him.”

Gregory sits back against the wall. “Okay. Let's do this then. But you can’t tell anyone. Right?”

“Right,” the wolf says through her toothy grin. “I think we have an agreement.”

Carefully, Gregory holds out a hand across the gap between them. Roxy looks at him in surprise, then firmly grips his smaller hand with her metal one, and gives him a solid shake. 

Quiet acceptance trickles into Gregory’s traitorous mind— she’s not going to hurt you, he convinces himself, and for a while, he believes it.

Roxy starts to sort their supplies, and Gregory asks basic questions as they lean over Bonnie’s shell.

“Did you learn how to do this by watching the technicians?” He queries, watching in great interest as she piles up wires according to their specific use.

“Yeah. Believe it or not,” she answers, “Monty hated getting maintenance alone, so…”

Gregory tilts his head at the same time the floor bot closest to him flashes its lights brightly. “So you went with him?”

“Bonnie used to,” she clarifies. “And with him gone, he refused to get help for a while.”

The floor bot appears to be freaking out now, and both bot and boy stifle a chuckle. “I think he has something to say about that.”

Roxy smirks. “He’s gonna be unbearable with a voice box. You sure you want to do this?”

Gregory makes a show of thinking, leading the bot closest to him to turn its back on him. “I dunno, Roxy… That’s a lot of hassle.”

If the rabbit could speak, Gregory imagined him cursing them out.

“But… just for Freddy’s sake,” Gregory decides jokingly.

Roxy adverts her attention to Bonnie’s cast, carefully studying his face and the crater in it. “Just for Freddy,” she echoes.

“So, about Monty,” he reminds her. Her ears fold back in response.

“He has a habit of destroying things, and himself,” Roxy replies. “And he hated getting help from the technicians, so I dragged him there myself and then it just became routine.”

There’s a comfortable silence after her words, and she doesn’t need to voice her thoughts for him to know what she's thinking.

That the friend she’d spent a majority of her time with, getting close with, and caring for, was the same person who’d dismantled one of her best friends.

“I wonder,” Roxy says, and her tone is utterly unreadable, “if I’m next. If Monty just decides when he’s done with his friends.”

“I don’t think so,” Gregory defends instantly. “I think there was something else at play. I’m sure he’s a good person— gator, I mean.”

Roxy shrugs, her eyes dimming. Gregory doesn’t push the issue anymore.

Bonnie’s bots, however, shake to get their attention. Roxy reaches over and playfully flicks one, making it make an angry hum.

Gregory sits up. “Bonnie, did you make it make that sound?”

No. 

“Huh.” Gregory stares at the floor bots closely— did they always do that? Or did these specific ones have some sort of sentience, as a result of their close proximity to Bonnie?

Roxy taps her claws absently on the floor. “Did you need something, Bonnie?”

Yes. 

“What’s that mean?”

Through a yawn, Gregory points. “If they look to the right, it means yes, and left means no.”

“So… that was a yes ,” Roxy observes. “How’s he gonna tell me what he wants?”

“You gotta guess.”

“Ugh,” Roxy sighs humorously. “First up on our list: a voice box.”

Gregory has to agree with that.

“If you’re asking about Freddy, save it,” Roxy advises.

Surprisingly, the bots shake a pointed no. Roxy sighs again. “How’d you put up with this, kid?”

Gregory laughs. “I dunno. I just got lucky guessing. I dunno what he wants now, though.”

Bonnie’s eyes dim, and the bots reset back to their usual post. 

He feels a bit bad— it’s not Bonnie’s fault remotely; he deserves to communicate as the rest of them do.

Roxy doesn’t really seem to notice, or care, as her gaze catches something more substantial.

“Hey, kid,” she says, beckoning him over. “Take a look.”

Gregory crosses the small room. He’s relieved that his heart doesn’t pound, but there's a chance that's from exhaustion itself. Still, he’ll opt to think that his body trusts Roxy enough to stay calm. Not to fight nor flight, and to simply exist.

The wolf points at the center of Bonnie’s endoskeleton. Gregory doesn’t spot something unusual, so he gives Roxy a quizzical look.

She stays pointing at the brace of his endoskeleton, specifically at the very front of his chest. There, a metal component resembled almost a steering wheel or controller. It had a large amount of wires running from it, and metal beams branching off of it.

“That’s the balance core,” Roxy explains. “Can’t stand without it. From what I know, it delivers power to the entire body. So, if it’s broken, nothing below the neck is getting power.”

“Which explains why Bonnie can’t move,” Gregory realizes. “Ahh, shit. That’s not good. Can we fix it?”

Roxy winces. “Not exactly. We’ll need to go get a new one from the basement. There should be some down there.”

Gregory’s not particularly thrilled to hear that he’ll need to return to the basement. “ We? Why can’t you go?”

She frowns. “There’s a hallway down there with a load of boxes. I can’t get in there; it’s blocked off by chains. There’s a vent, though, and to my understanding, you can fit in those pretty well.”

He groans. “Ugh, fine. Whatev—” he cuts himself off with a loud yawn, one that causes his hand to instinctively cover his mouth.

Gregory rubs his eyes, and when he focuses back on the sight at hand, Roxy is looking at him strangely. “What?”

“Are you tired?”

“No.”

“So… you slept after last night?”

He sheepishly shrugs.

Roxy reaches beside her, and pulls out the jacket from parts and service that Gregory had stolen earlier. He’d discarded it on the floor due to the lack of airflow, and now she had it bundled up in his claws. “Sleep.”

“What?” Gregory reels back. “We don’t have time for that. I’m fine. ” Then, despite the trust he started to wager on the wolf, he adds, “Besides, I dunno if you’re gonna turn again. I’m not taking any chances.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you anymore,” Roxy assures him. “I wish I never had. But you need to sleep, brat. And I doubt you want to leave this room.”

He glares at her silently.

“You’re safe here. You can either sleep now and trust me, or you can wait until your body knocks you out itself. Your choice.”

Gregory grabs the jacket from her claws, and cradles it between his arms. He sighs. “Okay. I’ll sleep,” he relinquishes. “But—” her attention sharpens on him, “—if anything feels off, you better wake me up.”

“Deal,” she agrees. “We can talk when you wake up.”

He nods, and steps back across Bonnie in order to get onto the more open side of the room. 

Roxy looks smugly triumphant, and returns to the craft; she carefully removes Bonnie’s casing around his chest, and cleans up debris in it.

The boy attempts to get comfy from his side of the bunny, drifting into sleep. The cement was unbearably cold, and he tucks into himself to get warm. It works, somewhat, and he uses the jacket as a bit of a pillow and a blanket. Every time he starts to feel weightless in his attempt to sleep, his body gives the illusion of falling from impossible heights and he jerks awake.

He doesn’t want to bother Roxy in any way, or possibly endanger himself further. But he doesn’t think he can go another minute without rest and fears the prolonged period awake will only drive him insane. 

Gregory steals a look at the wolf. Her hair was neatly over her shoulder, and she was crouched over Bonnie’s body, sitting criss-crossed on the floor. Her eyes were glowing a soft yellow, and she seemed entirely uninterested in the kid.

That was until she glanced up to grab a screwdriver, but caught Gregory’s experimental gaze. She tilts her head slightly at him, and he quickly ducks back into the jacket.

The face looking back at him was ruined— black wires dripping from eyelids, ashy smudges from fires, and torn metal from an automobile collision. Things he did; things he did without regard for Freddy’s friends.

And now he was sleeping in the same room as one as if they were friends.

A small sob pushes past his lips, and he muffles the sound with his hand. You’re a joke, he criticizes himself, and looks back up at Roxy. She’s back to focusing on Bonnie, frowning at the extent of his damage as she patches up his face.

He’s drawn back to her hair— likely intended for little kids to braid or play with, and easy for her to style at the salon for her performances. Still, when it was neat and brushed out like right now, Gregory wondered how soft it was.

Maybe one day he’ll ask, but for now, the hurtful words dig into his skull. A painful reminder that there was a reason he was here; a reminder that he’d never have a safe place to sleep.

It was a reminder he was far too familiar with, but far too exhausted to care for.

On one hand, he can’t wait to get out of here, but on the other; what was waiting for him?

Nothing.

At last, he stops thinking just long enough to drift back into sleep, and this time, he doesn’t wake for hours.

—

The floor bot is immediately alarmed by a spill a few tables away. 

Perking up, it shoots across the atrium and slows to a stop, and the camera registers the movement.

Bonnie stirs from his sleep mode, and switches his perspective to the floor bot in question. He’s given up by now in gathering anyone’s attention. Time passed strangely— he had no idea how long it was between his sleep cycles. 

He couldn’t wake himself. A sensor had to go off, usually. Sometimes he could hear through the walls of the bowling alley, and other times a floor bot would panic over a spill. Bonnie supposed it had been a week since Monty dismantled him, but there was little evidence to suggest he was right besides his room being cleared out.

Slowly, his name had been removed from every surface at the Pizzaplex.

There was a sense of dread that came with that acceptance… and a loss of hope. It was over for him.

He’d never go bowling again, or charm crowds with a beaming smile. Bonnie wouldn’t ever get another taste of stardom.

Yet, there’s not much he regrets, really. He lived vicariously— making his relationships with his friends meaningful, breaking the boundaries of their professional lives. While he didn’t take full credit, he was the majority of the reason the gang were as close as they were.

When Foxy was decommissioned, and moved out from the Pizzaplex, Bonnie realized that their time was far too short to be so self-involved. They had entire nights to themselves, but each animatronic preferred to be off on their own.

So, on that fateful night years ago, Bonnie invited them to go bowling. 

With great apprehension, he watched Roxy and Chica slink into the alley, making small talk off to the side. Meanwhile, Freddy was excitedly chatting Bonnie’s ear off, praising him for his bright idea.

Bonnie had made a great effort to befriend Freddy before the group ever hung out, and it was the closest to friendship any of them had. Freddy would casually tell Bonnie about his day in passing, while Bonnie listened, truly caring about the content of his words.

And thus, their makeshift family was born, in the very same alleyway he died in.

The little bot raced to the source of the spill, dutifully taking its position beside the mess.

Bonnie locates Freddy nearby, and it appears as if the klutzy bear knocked something over. The sound of the floor bot alerts Freddy to its presence, and he turns with a sheepish expression.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, little guy,” Freddy says, his voice a rough chuckle. “I was not paying attention.”

The floor bot didn’t really care, and stays in its position.

Freddy sighs loudly, and rubs his face with his paws. Bonnie could have frowned if he still had the ability too, but instead, he has to watch in dread.

Quietly, the bear starts to mutter. “I’ve been so clumsy lately.”

Bonnie focused his energy on the floor bot’s audio, and felt his heart breaking.

“Perhaps I am malfunctioning,” Freddy decides, still lingering by the spill. He stares at the floor bot impartially. “You don’t mind listening, do you?”

Shaking the bot back and forth, Bonnie is alit with glee when Freddy spares a genuine laugh.

“I think there is a lot my friends are not telling me,” he says. “Specifically Monty. He has said so much yet… so little.”

Bonnie listens. He’s afraid it’ll be one of the last times he ever will — how often does Freddy plan to speak to these little, insignificant bots? And at what point will Bonnie’s power give out?

He misses Freddy more than anything. He wants to be back on stage with him, shoulder to shoulder, belting every lyric as if each word was crafted for him. He wants to be in his greenroom, tucked into each other’s sides on the orange couch, laughing over the guests of the day.

If anything, he wants to be out of this damn room and he’d do anything to get out.

Freddy was in danger. If Monty was so easily controlled, who's to say Freddy wasn’t next? There was something fishy going on, and Bonnie couldn’t let his Freddy get hurt.

But, unfortunately, he was behind a few cement walls, shattered on a wooden floor. 

And Freddy was free. 

There’s a sniffle from his voice box, hardly audible. “When I talk to Chica about it, she is equally as sad. As is Roxy. But they will never know him the way I knew him.”

No floor bot in the entire complex would understand any of what Freddy was saying, but Bonnie heard him loud and clear. His soul clenches at the idea of his best friend being so lonesome, and he wants to let him know somehow that he’s never that far away.

“I am afraid,” Freddy admits. “What will happen to us, now that he is gone? And when is it our turn?”

Bonnie doesn’t have an answer for him— not an answer he can communicate, or an answer that seems feasible. 

“Change is the last thing I want to face without him,” the bear says. “It feels impossible now.”

That’s the last thing Bonnie wants to happen. He hopes all of them can move on, as selfish that may seem to them, but he could care less— he just wants them happy.

“It is unlike me to be so lost,” Freddy gestures to the spill, “And clumsy. Well, Bonnie would have argued that. He thinks I am rather clumsy.”

You are! Bonnie wants to yell. But I love you for it…

“I suppose I will have to get used to life without him,” the bear continues solemnly. “It was him and I forever. A Freddy should never be without his Bonnie,” he says with a slight chuckle, one littered with the sadness of grief. Sighing, he kneels down to pat the bot on the head. “But I can only try.”

I wish you didn’t have to, Bonnie thinks strongly.

Freddy dims, and pets the bot one last time. “Thank you for your time. I will leave you to yourself now. Perhaps one day you could find Bonnie for me, too… I hate to think he is a mess like this one, though,” and Bonnie wonders if he’s talking about the spill or something else.

The bear clambers to his feet, and starts to stomp off, disappearing from view. Bonnie watches him go, and knows he has to give up.

He should think the opposite— but it was far too late. Maybe this would be good for the both of them… although Bonnie never got that kiss. He never got that anything. 

All he had were the memories, which had to suffice enough.

Maybe in another life.

Chapter Text

Gregory stirs, turning in his daze, and his back shifts over something uncomfortable.

A cold surface makes contact with his skin, and he jolts awake, shivering immediately. He groans a little, reaching to grab whatever object he was using as a blanket, only to come up short. 

Sighing, he blinks his eyes open and slowly sits up. He takes in his surroundings— the same cement room, the floor cluttered with fried wires, fragmented plastic, and metal tools.

He rubs his arms to ward off against the cold.

Roxy was nowhere to be found, which distresses him more than he’d like to admit. He untangles the jacket from his legs, sitting criss-cross, and yawns loudly.

One of the wet floor signs turns towards him, lights flashing in greeting. He offers a lazy wave in response, and attempts to shake off the blurriness as a result of his nap.

Gregory surveys the scene once again. He notes the progress on Bonnie’s casing, as his chest was fully removed now, and the wires within seemed brand new.

Beside him was the balance core Roxy had pointed out. Now that it was in the dull light of the lantern, Gregory could see the cracks in the shell, and the burned out rotors. 

Squinting, Gregory looks back at Bonnie, realizing the bunny’s eyes weren’t on. The floor bot beside him watches him as if he was Bonnie, but Gregory guessed that Bonnie wasn’t even powered on anymore with the core removed.

“Do you understand me?” Gregory asks curiously, and the bot doesn’t respond. Its lights still dim and brighten, but it does not turn or shake in anyway.

He stays quiet after that, opting to shrug the jacket over his shoulders. Part of him wants to look for Roxy, but he’s not sure where— and if she left, it’s very possible she left to avoid hurting him.

At least, that’s what his brain has convinced him. 

Gregory checks his Fazwatch next, which informs him that Freddy was in parts and service. That implied he was the next animatronic to be fixed after Roxy, and the other two were still awaiting repairs.

He also realizes that Freddy was probably present for Roxy’s repairs— he had her eyes, after all, and served as the only fully-functioning robot in the band. 

So Freddy knows. 

Gregory might have twisted a few lies about the extent of the damage on the other animatronics— assuring Freddy it was an accident, and they were fine. But now, he’s seen the extent of Gregory’s triumphs, and probably heard it first hand from Roxy, and potentially Monty.

Chica couldn’t even speak about it.

He pulls the jacket closer around him, and notes the time before he turns off the watch. Four in the afternoon.

Without Bonnie’s balance core installed, there's not much he can do in terms of progress. A majority of his wires were attached through that single circuit, and he couldn’t tell what was powered and what wasn’t if there wasn’t a conductor.

In the prominent silence of the room, Gregory can hear the distance footsteps approach down the hallway. He leans forward, staring at the opening in the wall, and awaits the source of them to arrive.

The footsteps are too light to belong to Monty or Freddy, and to his knowledge, Freddy was still in the basement. Monty was probably still crawling about, and Chica was likely next in line for repairs.

So, when Roxy peeks around the corner, he’s relieved that his inference was correct. 

She carries a small bag in her claws with Chica’s face on it. He gives her a small smile, and she returns it with a flick of her ear, and clambers down the rocks.

Roxy offers him the bag, and he takes it. “What’s this?”

“Dinner,” she replies. “Lunch, maybe.”

“Oh.” Gregory reveals the contents of the bag— a wrapped sandwich of some type, a small crinkly bag of Fazchips (salt and vinegar flavored), and a FizzyFaz drink. He can't help but laugh. “You guys really capitalize on the Fazbear branding, don’t you?”

Roxy snorts. “If it was up to me, it’d be RoxyRazz. ”

“That’s kinda clever,” Gregory says, pointing at her as he unwraps his sandwich. “Um, thanks, by the way. You didn’t have to.”

“You’ve been asleep for nearly ten hours,” Roxy points out. “I figured you had to be hungry.”

Gregory sincerely hopes that Roxy doesn’t have any type of super-hearing as his stomach growls at the mere sight of the sandwich. It looks like a sub of some sort, with salami and lettuce and cheese, but he doesn’t get a good look at it before he eats it.

His brain warns him of the perils of the sandwich— remember the non-meat? But his stomach says otherwise. At this point, he’d eat a bowling ball if that was his last available meal.

Roxy sits beside Bonnie and watches Gregory from the corner of her eye. He takes a sip of the drink, wincing at the carbonation. He thinks he catches her laughing at him.

“So,” Roxy says after Gregory’s halfway through his meal, “about Bonnie.”

He’s reminded by her tone of countless foster parents: so, about your stay; so, about your grades. Gregory freezes, staring at the wolf in nothing short of panic.

And leave it to Roxy to notice. “It’s nothing bad,” she says. “But we need to get another balance core.”

Gregory exhales in relief. Why’d I even think it’d be something bad? He wonders, but his past answers: you know why. 

Because even if he wasn’t to blame, somehow, the blame would fall onto him, and he paid the price for things he never even did.

If Bonnie has been mysteriously broken between Gregory finding him and Gregory waking up, Gregory would have accepted it was his fault. Roxy would likely never blame him… but old habits die hard.

“That’s in the basement,” Gregory realizes, “right?”

Nodding, Roxy gives him a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, kid. So when you’re done with that, we can head down there.”

He wants to protest, but he’d just be delaying the inevitable. It’s not like there’s much for them to do without the core, and with Bonnie powered off, the entire situation would be grueling.

“Okay, sure,” he agrees. “You think there would be one in the boxes?”

Roxy nods. “In the hallway I mentioned. You can get through the vent.”

“And how many endoskeletons are there down there…?”

The wolf chuckles. “To hell if I know, kid. I don’t go down there anymore.”

“Wonderful,” Gregory deadpans. He wipes crumbs off his face and finishes the last of his sub, and opts to leave his chips for later. Getting to his feet, he stretches, noting the soreness of his limbs and the ache of his neck. Sleeping on the floor was never comfy, and even after years of doing so, he was never used to it.

“Well!” He claps his hands together. “Let’s do it, shall we?”

Raising an eyebrow at him, Roxy gets to her paws. “We… shall? ”

Gregory leads the way out of the room, Roxy close behind. “I think it would be funny if you guys talked like that. Like, Freddy talks all formal, and you talk like me, but who talks like an old English professor? Wouldn’t that be entertaining?”

“I highly doubt it,” Roxy informs him. “Foxy talked like a pirate, and the kids hated that.”

“Wait, really? That’s cool, though. Who doesn’t like pirates?”

“The trends of youth preferences come and go,” Roxy shrugs, although the line sounds painfully rehearsed. Gregory thinks it sounds like Freddy a little. “I couldn’t tell you exactly.”

Changing the topic, Gregory asks, “Who’s being repaired? What’s the status?”

“I don’t know what you did to the others,” she replies. “But Freddy was down there last. You want to see him?”

“Nah,” he answers quickly. “I wanna keep it a surprise.”

“Sure.”

Gregory does want to see him, to see the look on his face when he sees Gregory back in this cursed place. But on the other hand, he’s enjoying his time with Roxy behind the scenes, where nothing has tried to kill him.

Well, that might change, he realizes as they head towards Rockstar Row.

He’s afraid that coming back into contact with Freddy would possibly trigger the glitch to reappear, in some weird, twisted way. Roxy was fine, and he didn’t want to see them switch over again.

And, of course, he wants it to be a surprise. He’s a kid, after all, and surprises are some of the best things on earth.

Roxy opens her greenroom and leads them to the back elevator. Gregory stays close to her, staying quiet on the ride down.

“They won’t question me if I’m down here,” she tells him. “But you need to stay out of sight.”

In response, he steps behind her the moment the doors open.

A few technicians are crowded around the protective cylinder, and inside, Gregory spots the pale orange of the Glamrock bear. Roxy tiptoes around the outside of the area, Gregory close at her heels.

They barely glance up to acknowledge the wolf’s presence. One technician says hi to her, which is received with a curt nod.

Gregory wonders why they’re so entranced with Freddy. They’re talking between them— bits about new endo parts and a touch-up on his casing. One of them even mentions Monty’s claws, and the others hum in agreement.

He doesn’t get to listen further, though, as Roxy escorts them to the garage doors. Gregory charges his flashlight at the station in front of them, and lets out a loud sigh. “I hate this place.”

“Tell me about it,” the wolf remarks. “It’s like a closet full of skeletons for us.”

“In all honesty, it is, ” Gregory agrees. He checks his watch— plenty of time until closing. Maybe the endos don’t activate during the day. 

That was a cruel fantasy, though, as he steps into the garage. Faintly, down the hall, he hears a robotic whirr and a stark beep against the dark silence.

Roxy steps in behind him, her eyes glowing in the dim room. He feels comforted by her presence— with her systems and claws, she’s surely better equipped than the endos, and worse case scenario, she could protect him.

Unless, of course, she decides it’s not worth the hassle.

He shivers, pointing his flashlight down the hall, and continuing forward.

The gentle stomps of the wolf make the silence a bit less eerie, but doesn’t stop Gregory from flinching at the louder steps. It also makes it a bit more difficult to pick out the shuffling of the endoskeletons, but he quickly realizes he doesn’t really have to.

“There’s one ahead,” Roxy speaks clearly. 

“Your eyes,” Gregory remembers. When Roxy hums an affirmative, he says, “Thank you.”

Together, they traverse deeper into the basement. Gregory leads the way forward, and Roxy stares at the endoskeletons they pass to prevent them from moving.

“I wonder why they’re programmed like that,” Roxy muses. “I don’t remember if I was ever like these guys, but I suspect it must be boring as hell.”

Gregory laughs. “I have to agree with you there. They’re creepy.”

Roxy puts a hand on his shoulder, making him jump slightly, and points ahead of him. “The vent’s up there.”

“Okay.”

They head over to it, and Gregory uses a few piled up boxes to climb into it. He coughs as dust stirs below his hands, and he turns to look over his shoulder at the wolf. She tilts her head at him.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Okay, so, what am I looking for?”

“They should be in a box labeled balance cores. I think they use red tape for them,” Roxy explains. “They’re all universal, except for the daycare attendants. The difference is the amount of wires: our’s have six main ports, and theirs have eight.”

“Perfect. Great.” Gregory crawls deeper into the vent, and ends up in an adjacent room with boxes piled on each wall. He clicks his flashlight on, and surveys his surroundings.

Luckily, he doesn’t spot any endoskeletons in this particular segment, and is free to check the boxes.

“Hey, kid, you alright?” Roxy calls, and her concern is touching. He looks over his shoulder at the vent, and calls back to her with a yeah.

He returns his attention to the boxes, and searches for one with red tape on the side. He starts on the left and moves right, aware of the way his flashlight flickers with low battery. He must not have charged it fully before they left, and he curses under his breath.

Finally, a few minutes later, he locates a large box with the correct colored tape. He uses a screwdriver from the floor to slice it open, only to reveal a strangely organized box of voice boxes. He sighs. “Not this one.”

“Any luck?”

“Not yet…”

Gregory slides the box back onto the bottom shelf, and keeps looking. He’s praying it's not on the highest shelf, because there’s no way he could reach that without falling. Even if he stood on the boxes below him, he’d probably drop the one he was carrying on his head.

Twenty or so minutes go by without Gregory finding the required balance cores. He’s opened seven boxes by now, all with a wide array of supplies. He found toilet paper, screws, fingers, a singular eyeball, and even wiffle balls in one.

“Are you sure it’s red tape?” He asks Roxy, shining his flashlight down the vent. 

Roxy peers back at him, her eyes luminous against the dark tunnel. “I’m positive. We don’t forget things.”

“So you saw these parts go into a box with red tape into this room,” Gregory summarizes. “Well, they aren’t here. Can’t you use your eyes?”

She makes a laugh-like sound. “I can, but everything looks the same.” She pauses for a few moments, seemingly double-checking. “Yeah, I’m not seeing it either, kid. Come on out.”

Gregory climbs back into the vent and accepts Roxy’s help in getting down. He dusts off his shorts and knees, and switches which hand is holding his flashlight.

However, the thing dies close after, and he rolls his eyes. “Great.”

“Could be worse,” Roxy says. “I can see just fine. Stay close.”

“Where are we going to find a core?” Gregory questions, staying right on Roxy’s heels once again. Occasionally, her tail brushes past his shoulder, and he steers towards it.

The tunnels were pitch black, and without a flashlight, Gregory never knew how impossible they were to navigate. In the dark, he can see red eyes glinting back at him, and he continues to look in their direction.

Roxy hums, her footsteps a steady thrum. “I’ll check parts and service for one, and worse case scenario, I can ask one of the techs. They’ll be suspicious, but—” she freezes, coming to an abrupt stop. Gregory barely avoids colliding into her, and has no time to react when she yells, “Behind you!”

He gasps and turns around just as an endo halts barely an inch from his face. Its arms are reaching for Gregory’s shoulder, and one of its hands is clamped around his forearm. Gregory screams, trying to backpedal away, but holds firm in its grip. 

How could I be so stupid? He thinks in a panic.

Gregory’s painfully reminded of his first night here, Vanessa’s iron-grip on his arm, flashlight in his face. His ultimate demise lies straight ahead, with no way out.

Roxy snarls from somewhere off to the side, and goes flying past him into the endoskeleton. Gregory’s tugged forward by the motion, but the endo releases its grip the moment it hits the floor with Roxy tearing it apart.

He can’t make out much of anything, but through the flashes of amber and red, he sees both robots in a tussle. Despite his vision clearly on the endo, it doesn’t hide its activity, and actively engages with Roxy.

Gregory steadies himself, a hand over his forearm as he tries to take in what just happened.

Roxy growls and a painful snap of metal echoes in the dim space. There's a few more cracks and sickening sounds, but it goes silent as a few sparks jump from the downed endo.

Gregory pants heavily as yellow eyes turn to look back at him. Roxy drops something on the ground with a clang, and walks forward to his side. 

“Are you okay?” She asks, and the concern was palpable in her voice.

He nods rigidly. “Yeah— it didn’t, uh, do anything,” he stumbles. He applies pressure to where the robot had gripped his arm, and finds it sore to the touch. “Besides my arm, I guess…”

She scans him, and he feels extremely bare under her gaze. Her diagnosis must come up without any alarming results, because she simply hums and drops the matter for the time being.

Roxy holds something between her paws, and offers it to him. In the illumination of her eyes, he can make out the vague shape of it— a six-pronged circuit with a few faulty wires hanging out of it.

Gregory, despite his scare, is able to sport a small grin. “Well, that’s one way to get it.”

She laughs, but looks over her shoulder. Just past her, he can see a large group of red-eyed robots, just waiting to move.

“We should go,” she mumbles, holding the balance core in one hand, offering Gregory the other.

He takes it without any protest— he just watched her maul a robot for him, and as scary as the whole situation was, he had to admit his trust in her had nearly tripled.

Roxy tugs him gently towards the exit, and he hurries to keep up with her. With each corner they turn, he can hear faint thumping of the endoskeletons.

Gregory exhales loudly in relief as they exit the garage, walking back into the overhead fluorescent lights. Roxy beams down at him.

“That was pretty brave, kid,” she compliments, and he pulls a face.

“I didn’t do anything. You’re the one who…” he drones off upon noticing the new dents and scrapes across her cast. The damage wasn’t anything extreme, but a clean cut on her arm revealed an unpainted surface beneath.

None of the scratches went below that, but he still feels immensely guilty.

“It was nothing,” Roxy deflects. “Just making sure you’re alright.”

He stays quiet, brows furrowed in thought. It wasn’t the first time his actions caused Roxy to get injured. It was the very same case with Freddy, too— the bear sustained some blows from the STAFF bots during their confrontation with Vanny. Selflessly putting himself in harm’s way…

Gregory thinks, I’m more trouble than I’m worth.

Roxy squeezes his hand in a comforting way, and he looks back at her. She bears a fanged grin, and her tail swishes behind her. He can’t drop his expression, however, and instead takes a step forward.

She follows, ears lowered, and pads along beside him. 

The technicians are mingling in the common area, crowded around a large box. One of them goes to fetch scissors, nearly colliding with Roxy in the process, and Gregory scampers ahead to avoid being seen.

Roxy drops his hand as the technician calls after her. “Oh, c’mon, Roxy! What’s that scrape from?”

She shrugs. “My greenroom door malfunctioned. You’re lucky it’s not worse.”

“ You’re lucky I get paid,” the technician replies humorously. “Come in tomorrow and I’ll buff that out for you.”

“You got it,” she agrees, and meets Gregory at her elevator.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I didn’t mean for you to get damaged again.”

“This?” Roxy points to the scuff. “This is nothing. You should see what Monty does to himself for fun.” When Gregory still isn’t relieved, she continues. “I crashed my go-karts all the time when I first started. I was in here everyday. I really don’t mind this place— Monty gets all weird about it, but seriously, I don’t mind it at all.”

“Even if…” Gregory chooses his words carefully. “Even if you don’t look perfect?”

Roxy grins almost obnoxiously. “Oh, kid, I’m already perfect. A little dent won’t change that.”

He refuses to comment on her distraught appearance after he blinded her. He could still hear her cries echoing in his skull, and he has to think that it was a result of her very original programming. Not the more tame, and self-curated version of herself, but the original intent of her character design.

Gregory has to wonder if they’ve all changed that way— did Chica eat garbage when she was fully sentient? Why was Monty so destructive, even when in control of himself?

Lastly, what would change about Freddy, if he was controlled by the virus too?

Roxy studies the balance core in her paws, making Gregory drop his train of thought and focus on it too. “I forgot the endoskeletons have these. Probably would have been quicker.”

Shrugging, Gregory steps out of the elevator. His legs ache from the walk, but they just have to make it to Bonnie Bowling, and then he can rest. “It won’t miss it, that’s for sure.”

She agrees, and lets him hold it. He unplugs the severed wires and tosses them in the trash while they walk. “I’m excited for Bonnie to wake back up.”

“Yeah,” Roxy says. “I forgot to tell you. I had to unplug it.”

“Was there a reason besides preparing him for a new one?”

Roxy winces. “Bonnie’s been up there for two years, right?” Gregory nods. “Well, the balance core manages all the power from the battery. Because his was broken, it was improperly managing his power.” She dons a professional tone. “That was fine— he didn’t have anything to power besides his head. But, when we started plugging him back into his limbs, the thing couldn’t handle it. He shorted out after you went to sleep, and I had to disassemble it so he wouldn’t lose the last of his battery.”

Gregory misses the majority of that explanation, but he gets the message: Bonnie was running out of time, and Roxy bought him some more by removing the core before it could damage anything else.

“So, how much battery does he have left?”

Her ears flatten. “I’m afraid I don’t know. I’m assuming not much.” 

Gregory frowns. He feels bad that the rabbit had a possibility of not being conscious while they fixed him. “If he runs out of power… is that a bad thing?”

“Not necessarily,” Roxy assures him. “We can use jumper cables to give him a recharge, but that runs the risk of more shortages. That also isn’t a big deal, but then there’s more work to be done, and it’s this big cycle.”

“Okay. I get it.”

And then, he pauses just outside the bowling alley, and she turns to face him. “How do you know all this?”

Roxy gives him a small smile. “We all have our secrets, don’t we?”

“...You, being an animatronic wolf who tried to kill me, having secrets, doesn’t really soothe my worries in any way,” Gregory comments. “But, whatever.”

“One day,” she says. “But between you and me…” she ushers them into the bowling lanes as a few employees come cruising down the balcony, “it’s nice to be able to help Bonnie.”

He hears unspoken words: to help Bonnie the way I couldn’t help—

Gregory thinks there’s something more to what she’s saying, but as they return to Bonnie’s side, he doesn’t press the matter.

She’ll tell him, eventually. Maybe.

Chapter Text

Gregory holds ice to his arm as Roxy toys around with Bonnie’s open chest.

She’d gone and fetched a fountain drink composed solely of ice in order for him to tend to his bruise— which had turned an ugly purple in the time she was gone.

The ice wasn’t really helping the fact it was freezing in there. Gregory had the jacket wrapped around his form, yet it wasn’t doing much. 

Every time he discarded the ice, if even for a minute, Roxy gave him a sharp look. She didn’t even need to say anything, and Gregory already knew what she wanted.

Roxy carefully plugs the balance core back in, connecting fresh, new wires to the circuit and using her claw to screw it into place. Gregory watches from a distance, as do the floor bots.

He’s using the one closest to him as a back rest, and it doesn’t seem to mind. As the ice melts, he takes a tip of the freezing cold water.

Gregory thinks it's the best water he’s ever had— it tasted like it was fresh from the very peaks of Colorado, yet, he’d also believe it was reclaimed wastewater from the bathrooms. Judging by how shady the franchise was, he wouldn't be surprised.

He’s also content to let Roxy handle the more difficult jobs. His fingers already had plenty of tiny cuts from working with the fiberglass and plastic, as well as a few burns from where Bonnie’s battery had overheated the broken wires into red-hot parts.

It’s about this time that Gregory revisits his night here fully. He doesn’t know how much it affects him, but maybe it’d be healthy to digest it.

The trip down into the garage reawakened the memories he tried to suppress, and now, the bruise on his arm was living proof that the mere fact he survived that first night was a miracle. 

Without Vanny around, he should feel comforted. The animatronics should be fine. Yet, he still doesn’t fully believe it.

Maybe Vanny had nothing to do with their corrupt personalities. Maybe the robots were entirely programmed to kill as the lights went off. It’s certainly possible, except for the fact Freddy didn’t and Roxy hasn’t. 

He refuses to believe that they’re both exceptions. Freddy, surely, is, but Roxy represents the general band. If she is normal, they must be too.

Gregory was under the impression that Chica was the nicest of the band, besides Freddy. She was cheerful in all her voice-recordings and kind during her meet-and-greets. Gregory had caught glimpses of her happy-go-lucky demeanor while he was sneaking around the complex, so when she tried to kill him he was a little put-off.

Monty, on the other hand, was something he was immensely concerned with. He’d killed a bandmate and been split in half by Gregory’s own doing. Clearly, he was reckless with or without the virus, and should be avoided.

“Alright,” Roxy says, patting the floor beside her. “I need your help.”

Shaken from his thoughts, he gets to his feet, ditching the cup of ice. Standing at her side, she hands him two separate cords. “What’s this for?”

“Jumper cables,” Roxy replies. “We need to be very careful about this.”

Gregory looks over at Bonnie, noticing the rabbit was still offline. He feels inexplicably sad about the realization. “So… he’s dead, then?”

“Just his battery.” Roxy mimics a sharp inhale, and points at the red wire. “This one’s first.”

He has one red cord in his hand and a black one beside it. Gregory recognizes them from when he tossed them into the box of random parts, but had no idea they’d be necessary so soon.

“Wait, what? Um, Roxy ,” Gregory interjects, “I have no clue what to do.”

“It’s simple. There’s a charging station outside—” Gregory can recall the thing pretty clearly, and nods, “—with two ports on the back. One is positive, and one is negative. Red is positive, and black is negative.”

“...Okay…”

“We need to plug them in one after another. So—” Roxy holds up her end of the red cable, and clamps it onto Bonnie’s endoskeleton. Upon a closer look, Gregory supposes it’s the battery, exposed by the lack of fried debris and his plastic casing.

Roxy looks at him expectantly. “You need to plug the red one into the red port. After you do that, tug on the cord. When I tug on the black one, plug that one in immediately.”

Cautiously, Gregory asks, “If we mess this up…?”

“Nothing bad,” she says. “I promise. Just a few new wires— nothing permanent. But, ” she stresses, “it’d be nice to get it on the first try.”

“Yeah…” Gregory agrees. “Okay. I’m going.”

Gregory tugs his wires through the gap in the wall. He’s drawn back to the scratches on the walls— the very reminder of why they were even in that backroom to begin with.

He has so much he wants to ask Bonnie. Why did Monty hurt you? What was it like? Why didn’t you call for help? Does this have to do with the virus? 

And then, like a wave of fatigue, the thought ebbs into his brain: were you infected?

The bots weren’t very intelligent while under control. But, there was surely a chance that Bonnie was smarter than the others, and therefore, could remain both sentient and malicious without much thought.

Maybe Monty was doing him a favor by decommissioning him— preventing his friend from hurting someone else, or himself.

Gregory already knew the bots were friendly. That was the basic, simple fact about it. Bonnie was no different, besides the fact he was left to rot in a backroom. Why? 

Was the rabbit dangerous ? 

He remembers the case files he used to have within that room. The tagline— several customer complaints. The company knew where Bonnie was, and went to such an extent to hide his whereabouts so that even Freddy and Roxy didn’t know.

But… Monty did.

Gregory crawls out from underneath the overhang on the bowling lane and pauses.

Monty knew where he was.

Right? If Monty had destroyed Bonnie, surely he knew about it.

And if so, he purposely didn’t tell the others about it.

Maybe the truth was too hard to swallow. Gregory didn’t really want to speculate.

He drags over the wires to the recharge station. As he crouches behind it, he can see the two pegs Roxy was referring to. One was a vibrant red, and the other was black, and he really couldn’t mistake them.

Carefully, he attaches the red clamp to the red stud, and tugs on the excess to alert Roxy to the updated situation.

Moments later, Roxy tugs back, and he nearly loses grip on the black wire. Still, he’s able to successfully plug it in, and go running back to the room.

When he gets there, Roxy is beaming at the rabbit. Her tail nearly wags behind her, and her ears are perked. Without much consideration, as if it was natural, Gregory plops down beside her.

She doesn’t acknowledge it either, at least not visually. Maybe they’re at that stage of normality; Gregory craves it, in a weird way. He’s used to making quick friends and losing them even faster. 

This is the longest he’s stuck around the same place in the last year or so. The thought makes his heart jump uncomfortably. Settling down… it just raised the chances of something going wrong exponentially.

In front of them, the rabbit’s eyes glow faintly, and Gregory cracks a grin despite his contradictory thoughts. “Welcome back, dude.”

Roxy double checks the cables as she greets him. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Bonnie probably would have scoffed— Gregory’s starting to see his personality even through yes and no questions— and the bot closest to them turns to the right. 

“We fixed a good amount of your connections,” Roxy explains to him. “Your power should be draining at a regular rate now, so the jumper cables stay.”

No.

“I’m gonna guess that he actually wants to say, great, in a sarcastic tone,” Gregory infers.

Yes.

“Little shit,” Roxy mumbles. “Well, there’s not much else we can do without tearing the rest of you apart.”

Gregory flinches. “What?”

“Besides his torso—“ she points a claw at the middle of the bunny, where his hips attack to his makeshift ‘spine’, “—I can’t really see what’s wrong. Tearing off the casing could be unnecessary.”

“Oh.”

Yes.

“So, Bonnie, is your hip broken?”

Yes… no.

Gregory snickers. “Really helpful. Seriously. That actually helped!”

Roxy flicks Gregory on the ear, making him turn to glare at her. Yet, he doesn’t feel any amount of anger or fear at the motion— it feels natural.

“Brat,” Roxy sighs loudly. “This isn’t going to work.”

“Is there anything stopping us from repairing his voice box?”

She thinks about that, tipping her head back and forth. “I think that’s a reasonable next step.”

Excitement floods his veins. “Wait, really?”

“Sure. Help me remove the old one— I just plugged in new wires that I don’t want fried.”

Gregory can’t wait to hear Bonnie speak— to greet them as friends, to laugh at their jokes, to answer his questions…

His questions. 

He frowns. Does he really want his questions answered?

Well, yeah. 

As a backup plan, he assures himself, he can just leave. If things go as south as he fears they will, he’s got plenty of time to depart the area and call it a day.

Besides— Bonnie won’t be going anywhere.

Gregory offers Roxy a few tools, and together, they remove the rabbit’s bottom jaw. It pops off cleanly, and has a few small cracks on it.

He holds up the teeth to the light. “You’ve got some pearly whites, Bonnie,” he comments. “Too bad you’ve got that hole in your head.”

The bots don’t reply, so Gregory assumes he’ll get an earful about that when the rabbit can finally talk. Talk, he thinks giddily; all their effort and finally a benchmark of their progress. 

Roxy takes the piece from him. “We can patch up the large holes,” she observes. “But these little cracks; not so much. That’s a technician’s job.”

“Wait.” Gregory stands in place beside Roxy, eyebrows furrowed. “What are they gonna do to him when he’s back?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Roxy admits. 

Gregory looks over to the opposite side of the room, where he’d left the folder. It’s still there, laying half-opened from when Gregory dropped it. Roxy hadn’t looked.

“Um,” he starts off with something less than confidence, “they knew he was here. For the record.”

Roxy freezes, her ears standing up on edge. “They… knew? ”

“The technicians,” Gregory clarifies. “I mean, we can assume Monty knows, too, but… yeah. It’s in the briefs.”

“Let me see those,” Roxy requests. Gregory obliges, fetching the papers, and sitting down next to her. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Gregory replies, peering over her arm at the pages.

Slowly, her expression morphs into anger. “I can’t believe it. And no one told us. ”

“I’m sorry,” Gregory offers pitifully. 

Roxy sets the folder down, stopping at the very same place Gregory did. “The customer complaints. That’s why.”

“...You knew about them?”

She pulls a smirk at that. “‘Course I did. I still do. Isn’t that right, Bonnie?”

This time, the floor bot does answer.

“Are they bad?” Gregory asks, wondering if the panic he feels creeps into his tone. 

Roxy shakes her head. “No. Well, not to us. You see…” she pauses. “There’s a reason we didn’t go after Bonnie.”

“And that is?”

She winces. “I think that’s something he tells you.”

Gregory’s starting to get a bit sick of the secrets, but he agrees nonetheless. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

Roxy reaches into Bonnie’s neck and removes a cube-shaped object. She holds it out to him, and he studies it. “It’s… fried. How’s that possible?”

Even with Bonnie’s faulty battery, he highly doubts something could have caught aflame. There would have to be char, or ash somewhere, and Gregory didn’t see a single trace of that.

“It got crushed there,” she points with a single claw to a sizable dent on the surface. “But I think he tried to—” she gives him a strange, bitter look, “—call for help… and using a broken box will make it overheat if the wires aren’t working properly.”

Both of them look to Bonnie, and Gregory inadvertently pictures the rabbit’s final moments. Hopelessly clashing against an animatronic with twice his strength, calling out for anyone to listen… and no one hearing.

Gregory shivers, and sets it aside. “That’s…not great.” A nod. “Will the new one still work?”

“I don’t see why not. This one isn’t very advanced, but it’ll allow him to speak,” she says hopefully. “If it doesn’t, there are plenty more downstairs. Besides, with the new core, his powering should be pretty metered.”

She hands him the new box, and points to the open slot. Gregory takes it, studying it against the faint light of their lantern. “It’s kinda crazy how this thing works,” he comments, and leans forward to attach the box into its proper location.

For the first time since Gregory found him, he hears a machine start to whirr, and his circuits buzzed loudly. It was a great sign, Gregory assumes, and rubs his hands together in excitement.

“I don’t know how they work,” she replies. “That’s past my knowledge barrier.”

As he’s staring at Bonnie, Roxy ruffles Gregory’s hair, making him duck away from her a little— although not out of malicious intent, but by habit— and he grumbles under his breath and swats at her.

Bonnie’s eyes stay in place, still unmoving, but his systems run loudly as the new wires carry electricity through each circuit.

Suddenly, there's a crackle and pop, akin to the sound of an AUX connecting to a speaker.

Both animatronic and boy lean forward in anticipation, sharing an excited look.

For the first time in years, the pale blue bunny makes a sound, staticky and quiet, but both of them hear it; “Ahh, shit .”

—

Freddy thought he was just there for repairs.

A slow dismantling of his parts, removing his casing… it was somewhat expected and normal.

But, as a gloved hand reached for the chip behind his neck, he wondered how routine this really was.

—

“You’re awake! ” Gregory yelps with glee, and Roxy laughs loudly. 

“ Bonnie! ” Roxy both scolds and delights, and she grabs for his broken hand. “You little shit! Had me scared to death!”

The rabbit makes a sound like a raspy laugh. “My mistake, next time, I’ll just get up and walk it off.”

He talks the exact way Gregory suspected: fairly sarcastic, and quite a bit higher than both Freddy and Roxy’s. His voice was edged with video static, and carried a typical rhythm to it. 

“You better,” Roxy grumbles. “Everyone will be so happy to have you back— besides me, of course,” she teases. 

“It’s good to be back, ” Bonnie replies. He sounds surprised, which Gregory can sympathize with, but he sounds almost shocked at the content of his own voice. He’s probably used to hearing everything besides it.

Gregory still stares in quiet awe. He was alive. 

“Freddy’ll be so excited,” Roxy continues. “I almost don’t want to see how he’ll react… It could be catastrophic.”

Gregory raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Bonnie hums loudly as if to deter Roxy, but the wolf has a malevolent gleam in her amber eyes. “Trust me; you don’t want to know. Grossest thing that ever happened.”

It takes him a few seconds to realize what she means— Freddy’s comment at the bowling alley, the melancholy tone he adopts whenever speaking about the bunny. They were best friends, obviously, but Gregory could definitely see the potential of something else.

Can animatronics fall in love?

“I think that’d be sweet,” he mumbles. Roxy tisks.

“Just wait till you see them. Well! We have to get him up and operational first… but now you can tell us what’s wrong.”

Bonnie chuckles again. “As if I know.” He pauses. “Sorry if that sounded like sarcasm— it wasn’t— I do know.”

“Typical,” Roxy snorts.

“And—” Gregory adds excitedly, “—we can finally hold a real conversation.”

For the first time, Gregory feels the rabbit’s focus land entirely on him when he replies. “I resent that. I was trying my hardest, so you know. I’ve got two options, and I was making the most of ‘em.”

“So, you didn’t know your lefts and rights?”

Roxy snickers at this.

Bonnie sighs, and Gregory thinks the sound is satisfying— almost like white noise, due to his voice settings. “I’ve always been bad at them.”

“I can confirm,” Roxy adds. “When he was programmed, they didn’t add it in. So whenever we saw him—” she dons a cunning smirk, “—we’d lie to him about which was which.”

“ So, ” Bonnie says bitterly, “I couldn’t ever reference my memories to check. But thanks to you, rockstar,” Gregory’s eyes widen at the nickname, “I now have a reliable memory.”

“Uh, glad to be of service,” Gregory stutters out. Curse these animatronics for being programmed for kids! He thinks he might die if they continue being so nice to him; the nicknames felt a little too personal, almost, things he never received until now.

Despite his lack of a bottom jaw— and his systems, for that matter, the smile is apparent in Bonnie’s voice. “Thank you guys, both. Seriously.”

“You shouldn’t have to thank us for doing the right thing,” Roxy responds, crossing her arms. “This shouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

And they both know she's slyly poking Bonnie into explaining that, about Monty, but the rabbit has no inclination to say anything.

“Yeah,” Gregory says. “It’s no problem, really.”

Bonnie’s eyes dim. “No one would have blamed you— even now— if you left, you know.”

“What?”

“I saw what happened to you,” Bonnie explains simply. “All of it. And I want to apologize on the behalf of the others.”

Roxy shrinks a little, and Gregory exhales quietly. “It’s over now.”

“It shouldn’t have happened.”

There’s a paw on his shoulder, and he glances up to see Roxy, a very small, yet very guilty, smile on her face. “Yeah. Me too.”

Gregory just nods. He doesn’t trust himself to say anything else— it wasn’t okay, in any capacity, but he didn’t really want to talk about it with Roxy there.

She was clearly apologetic. He didn’t want to recount the horrors he’d endured, knowing she’d feel guilty for them. 

But, talking with Bonnie about it…

“If you ever want to talk about it, you know where I am,” Bonnie jokes, semi-serious. “You’re an incredible kid.”

He already knows me.

Just like with Freddy— he feels like these animatronics can read minds. He’s never felt so unraveled before— usually tight-lipped and self-sufficient, he feels his walls falling.

Opting to ignore them both, Gregory shifts closer back to Bonnie’s motionless body. He inspects the wires until they reach his hip-and-spine joints. The metal was gnarled, and there was a large, single swipe across the bars. Wincing, he asks, “Is your endoskeleton intact?”

Both animatronics drop the conversation, and move onto the more pressing matters.

The rabbit’s systems make a loud humming sound, and Bonnie makes a muffled noise of discomfort. “No. Gah, that hurt. ”

“How are you feeling pain?” Gregory asks, careful to avoid the live wires as he inspects the connections and their ports.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Bonnie replies. “I think it has to do with our programming— almost a warning system. I believe that’s the same way it is for people,” the rabbit mulls. “Either way, there are sensors in multiple places that warn us when there is damage. The more severe, the more it hurts.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Gregory sarcastically says. He rolls up his shorts to prove his point, grimacing at the scrapes on his knees and on his palms from falling. 

Roxy catches him checking them. “I didn’t realize there were more ,” she turns towards him. “Let me see.”

She’d been pretty thorough with checking his bruise, but he’d been somewhat secretive about his knees.

Gregory leans away from her, rolling his shorts back down. “Nuh-uh. You don’t have to. I have band-aids… somewhere.”

The wolf seems to make an executive decision, and she stands up. “I'm going to a first aid station, and when I’m back, you’re going to let me help you again, so help me god. ”

Bonnie laughs, coming across as if through a radio. “Seems you’ve met your match, Roxy.”

“Seems as if,” she echoes, shooting Gregory a playful glare, and exiting the room. 

Gregory ignores the sting of his knees as he gets back to repairing the bunny. It seemed they needed to reinforce his endoskeleton, connect it back together, and fix the final wires and cords that ran down the very ‘spine’ of the robot.

“For a kid, you sure are independent,” Bonnie notes, and one of the floor bots intently watches the boy. “You usually don’t see that until maybe thirteen.”

Giving him an unflinching blank stare, Gregory shrugs. “Well, if the situation demands it.” He can feel the rabbit’s urge to ask further questions, so he shuts it down with; “Bonnie, why did Monty hurt you? Did you have the virus?”

He doesn’t respond for a moment, and Gregory dreads the response. He starts to wish he hadn’t asked.

But, the bunny sighs. “No, Gregory. I did not. Monty did. And he’d never hurt me on purpose.”

Gregory tilts his head. “You don’t sound mad.”

“It was a mistake,” Bonnie observes neutrally. “I can’t be mad at that.”

That is something foreign to Gregory. He may have forgiven the animatronics— he opts to believe it wasn’t really them, but he’s been mad at people who make mistakes.

More commonly, he's mad at himself for trusting them. 

Bonnie doesn’t say anything else, and Gregory lets the room fall to silence. He has some thinking to do.

Chapter Text

For the course of the next two days, progress crawled by at a snail’s pace. Each hour required new tools, parts, or even a new perspective. Roxy got frustrated frequently, and left so that Bonnie and Gregory had time to talk.

(Gregory suspects she didn’t really get that frustrated, but instead, wanted to give Gregory space to digest what happened to him. He appreciates it, and tells her so after the second time she leaves.)

Very rarely, Gregory left the bowling alley. When he poked his head out, he spotted a single animatronic each time: Chica was mingling with the human staff, helping in their clean-up endeavors. He spotted Monty once, and that was when he entered Gator Golf, and never emerged again. Freddy was completely missing; something that both worried and comforted Gregory.

There’s a small part of him that wants to be found, just so he can get some semblance of normalcy again.

Because that’s normal: an animatronic bear caring more about him than anyone else had.

Gregory feels the same way about Roxy and Bonnie now, all for different reasons. Freddy kept him alive, safe, and praised him. Bonnie had no role to play, no face in any scene of the disaster, and served as a single neutral point for him. Roxy was first the face of his nightmares, but then, the figure that warded against them. Supportive, loyal, and funny, he found a true friend in her.

She stayed at his side. After the endoskeleton incident, she didn’t let him go one moment unaccompanied. So, that either meant he had to stay with Bonnie, or leave the lanes with her.

And really? 

He didn’t mind it.

The work was grueling, but each hour brought new milestones. Gregory got a few hours of sleep each day, and by the fourth day avoiding Freddy, or five days after that fateful night, Bonnie was nearly back to operating condition.

Now, there was one thing stopping them from reaching that stage. 

All of his wires were fully connected. His endo had been fused back together— apparently Roxy had a lighter for a finger, to which she informed him all animatronics did, for birthday candles— and his casing was held together with glue and epoxy, as well as slightly melted plastic to solidify the rest.

The final component was a plug. Gregory learned it was a VGA cable— something both Roxy and Bonnie cursed as being outdated and hard to come by. Apparently, the part of Bonnie’s programming and circuits that controlled his movement needed to be attached to a port on the back of the balance core.

That wasn’t that difficult of a fix, except that there wasn’t a single VGA cable in the entire Pizzaplex.

“There’s no way,” Gregory gapes as Roxy holds three separate cords in her claws. “One of these, surely. ”

Bonnie’s floor bots turn towards Roxy, and she kneels down, offering them out to him.

“That’s a DVI, an HDMI, and a displayport,” Bonnie says, and there's a slight laugh in his voice. “None of those are right.”

Roxy holds up the DVI. “Oh, come on! This is basically the same thing!”

“Close,” Bonnie replies.

Gregory can see how hard Roxy has to fight to resist kicking the floor bot, and has to hide his grin.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work. 

“What are you laughing at?” Roxy growls, her tail swishing. There’s no real trace of anger in her voice, but her folded ears and bared teeth give that impression. 

“Nothing!” Gregory forces out, wiping the smile off his face. “Look, why don’t we steal one from another endoskeleton? It was easy enough last time.”

Roxy scoffs. “Easy? Your arm says otherwise.”

“A necessary causality,” Gregory responds.

Bonnie clears his throat— rather, his voice box. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news—”

“Save it,” Roxy interrupts. “You’re the only one with a VGA, aren’t you?”

“...Maybe?”

“Ugh!” Roxy drops the cords, and without another word, storms out of the room.

The wires fall to the ground with a few clunks. Gregory shrugs, and sits down beside Bonnie. 

Bonnie still has an impish tone when he asks, “You think she’s mad at me?”

“No,” Gregory laughs. “She’s probably going to go decommission Monty as we speak.”

“Oh, lovely.” Bonnie falls quiet for a few moments. “Are you okay, Gregory?”

“What? Yeah,” Gregory answers quickly. “Why?”

“You seem sad.”

And that’s partially true: with every bit of progress towards Bonnie’s completion, he’s dreading the fact he’ll need to leave. He’ll be unnecessary; replaceable.

“How would you know?” Gregory accuses. “I’m fine. ”

He hears his own delivery and winces, immediately apologizing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay,” Bonnie accepts. “It’s okay to be sad, too.”

Gregory sighs. “I’m fine. Seriously.”

“You should ask Roxy for a hug.”

Two things devastate him about that sentence: the fact Bonnie thinks he needs a hug, and the realization that Bonnie couldn’t give him one.

Still, he scowls. “I don’t need one.”

Softly, Bonnie says, “Maybe you should go home.”

Gregory does a great job of remaining impartial. He wants to ask, what home? But instead leads with, “My parents are busy.”

“Still,” Bonnie urges, “maybe you’d feel better there.”

“Trust me, Bonnie,” Gregory confesses, “there’s nowhere I’d rather be than home. ”

He doesn’t mean his old house. He means the definition of home: the definition he doesn’t know, the abstract idea he doesn’t have.

Before Bonnie can question further, Roxy returns. She tosses Gregory a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich as well as a water bottle. He catches both eagerly, and starts munching away.

“You’re very food-motivated,” Roxy notes dryly. “Okay, bunny, get talking. Where can I find one of your plugs?”

Bonnie hums. “The garage, possibly. But they'll be impossible to pick out. The arcade machines use them. You could tear one off, and solder the middle so that it’s shorter.”

“There’s some outside,” Gregory adds helpfully. “Do those one’s have some?”

“They should.”

Roxy nods, and gestures to Gregory. “C’mon, brat. You’re helping.”

“Leave it to me,” Gregory sarcastically snarks, and regretfully leaves behind his sandwich in favor of following her.

“Roxy,” he asks, putting a hand to his face, “have you seen the other animatronics?”

She glances over her shoulder. “No. I haven’t.”

“Really? Not even Chica? She’s up and repaired…” Gregory winces as he grazes over the band-aid on his cheek. “Wait. You were supposed to go get maintenance.”

Roxy pauses so that he catches up to her, and holds out an arm. Gregory notes no visible damage.

In fact, her entire casing seemed to be finally painted. Her hair was fully styled, and the designs on her arms and legs were complete. He hadn’t really noticed in the dark back room, but now that he had, he’s thoroughly relieved.

“I went while you were sleeping,” she explained. “I didn’t see any of the others, though. Well, Freddy was there, but he was in the charging station.”

“Was he okay?” Gregory asks eagerly.

She nods. “‘Course. He’s got all his normal parts back— no thanks to you,” she teases. 

Gregory groans playfully. “Haven’t I apologized for that?”

“Actually,” Roxy tilts her head. “For how much you’re saying sorry, that’s the one thing you haven’t apologized for.”

He blinks in surprise, and upon realizing she was right, he’s hit with a wave of guilt. 

Wow. Good one. 

Gregory looks down at his shoes, biting the inside of his cheek. “Oh. Uh, I’m so—”

“Hey, you don’t have to,” Roxy interrupts. “Bonnie and I talked about it earlier. You did what you had to do, kid. No one blames you for that.”

“I hurt you,” Gregory corrects, “and I hurt you again in the basement, and I’ll probably end up getting Bonnie hurt, and then myself hurt, ‘cause everything goes wrong when I’m around.”

She parts her jaws to reply, but he cuts her off. “Don’t try to tell me I’m wrong! The first and only night I’m here, you guys go haywire and I destroy the place! No matter where I go, things always end poorly, and I’m not ready for this—” he catches himself, barely, but it’s too late; tears have already pooled in his eyes and he’s helpless to wipe them away.

He quietly sobs, trying desperately hard to shut up no one wants to see you cry, grinding his palms into his eyes.

As he’s blinking away the tears, he sees Roxy— the blurry silhouette of her— kneeled down in front of him, her arms wide. Her expression is soft— as soft as a metal robot can be— and he chokes out another cry.

And falls into her hug.

Roxy stays silent, yet comforting, as he wraps his arms around her neck, sniffling. Great going! Yeah, this one is real badass of you! 

As quiet as he can manage, he whispers, “Roxy, I don’t… What did I do? ”

“You didn’t do anything,” Roxy says, firmly. “You’re a kid. The bravest one we know. You didn’t do anything wrong, and we all know that. Me, Bonnie, hell, even Freddy knows. I know that night was terrifying, and it’s something I truly wish we could have avoided, but you are not responsible for it in any way.”

“I’m sorry,” Gregory mumbles, freeing an arm to wipe away the last of his tears.

“And we forgive you. I forgave you the moment I saw you,” Roxy assures him. “And so have the rest of them. You didn’t cause this. It was awful timing— a terrible scenario. You can’t be to blame for our programming going upside-down. And, for the record, if we get hurt again helping you; I think that’s a pretty fair reason.” There’s a small smile on her muzzle. “We’re metal, Gregory; you are far more important than some ol’ tin cans.”

He tries to fight the smile that blooms despite the tears, but falls terribly short. “You aren’t— you’re not just a tin can,” he says, a sniffle in his voice. 

“You’re right. I’m the best tin can,” she returns back, and slowly draws away from him. “You can say it.”

“That you’re my favorite?” Gregory quips back. The weight falls off his shoulders— he’s a kid, and kids can’t be blamed for something like this. If Roxy forgave him; well, if they all did, then he’d just have to try to make it up to them in the future. He can only try, now, and that’s what he intends to do.

Roxy gets back to her feet, smirking. “Who else is in the running? Freddy’s a pushover, let’s face it, and Bonnie is a deadbeat,” she laughs.

“I dunno,” Gregory rubs his chin. “That’s a tough one. I think the dead guy in the bowling alley has you beat.”

“Um, what? ” Roxy scoffs indignantly. “Brat. He can’t even do this— ” she leans down, and scoops him off his feet. He squeaks out a protest, but she ignores him, and carries him towards the arcade machines. “You have to admit— I have him beat in this category.”

“Ehh…” Gregory looks up at her, content to be off the ground. “You might have him beat, but I think you lose to Freddy, there…”

Roxy rolls her eyes. “Fine. I get it! I’m chopped liver. But, when you find a category I do win, let me know.”

“Will do. Might take a few decades, though. How does next century sound?”

“You’re an ass,” Roxy retorts, no trace of malintent in her tone. “You think anyone will miss this game?”

Gregory’s feet meet the floor again, and he inspects the machine. “ Plushtrap Chaser? Nah, I think they’d benefit from losing this one.”

Roxy pulls the arcade machine away from the wall, and leans down to the cord. She pulls it from the wall, and then inspects the back of it with a scan of her eyes.

Nodding, Gregory confirms it’s the one they’re looking for. “That’s gotta be it.”

“Good,” Roxy sighs thankfully. Using one of her claws, she slices the wire near the end, and pulls it from the machine. “There’s half of it.”

“Aww, what? We gotta maim another one?”

“Unfortunately. However will the company cope with such a loss?” Roxy muses.

“How about Sea Crashers? ” Gregory points to a teal machine across the way, and Roxy pads after him towards it.

Roxy’s ears swivel. “It looks like it was Foxy-themed.”

“What, the pirate guy, from the Daycare area?” Gregory asks.

“That’s the one.”

Gregory leans against the wall as Roxy preforms the same surgery on the machine as she did to the previous one. “So, what happened to him?”

Roxy’s shoulders tense slightly, and there's a flash of her fangs. “Decommissioned.”

“That seems to be the most used word around here,” Gregory notes. “Was he dismantled by Monty, too?”

“If he was, I would have killed Monty by now,” Roxy says, painfully honest. “No. He was pulled from the theatre after his maintenance costs outweighed his profits.”

Gregory treads carefully. “Were you close to him? I mean, I assume so, you guys are both—” he frames Roxy between his fingers, like a camera, “—dog-robots. And your names rhyme. So I think that’s a fair guess.”

She shrugs. “You could say that.”

He has one final question before he lets the topic rest. “Where is he?”

Roxy stands up, both cords in her hands. One half of the cord was melted at the end, and the other had the required VGA connections. She shrugs again, and turns on her heels. “No one knows.”

“Ahh.” Gregory’s brows furrow, but if Roxy’s quick gait is anything to go by, it’s the smart decision to let the conversation go. 

Freddy had never talked about Foxy in any capacity. Gregory only knew of the guy because of his poster cut-outs in the storage rooms, and the pirate-themed cove near the Daycare. Since he seemingly wasn’t a gang member, it must have been easy to remove him from the daily life of the other animatronics.

Really, the only one who’d notice the fox’s absence would be that… interesting daycare attendant. 

And Gregory highly doubted the guy experienced any emotions beside happiness and peace-on-earth, so it was possible Foxy disappeared without much more than a trace.

Alternatively, Bonnie’s disappearance must have been a knife in the back. One of their band members simply gone, with no explanation, and no closure.

While Bonnie was waiting for the inevitable: death; the rest were seeking closure. Yet, only one of those things were found. 

He follows Roxy back to Bonnie’s room, but as she reaches the lanes, he stops her. “Hey, Roxy?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. That meant a lot back there,” Gregory says, somewhat sheepish. “I’m sorry about your eyes.”

Roxy smiles at him. “Hey— think of it as a favor. I got them back all polished and shiny. So, really, who’s the real winner?”

Laughing quietly, Gregory says, “You, I guess.”

“And that, my friend,” Roxy beams, continuing towards the room, “is correct. I’m always a winner.”

Gregory fights against rolling his eyes, clambering down the rock pile beside Bonnie. He goes to greet the rabbit, but he speaks the moment they set foot in the room.

“That was awful, Roxy,” Bonnie remarks. “The build-up? The delivery? You’ve fallen off.”

“Yeah, and you’re dead, ” Roxy snorts.

“Times are changing. That’s old news,” he says smugly.

Gregory snickers as he fetches the electrical tape from their tool kit. 

“I’ll just let Gregory destroy you this time,” she replies. “He’s getting pretty good at it.”

“Hey!” Gregory crosses his arms. “Leave me outta this!”

Bonnie’s machines whirr mutely. “Yeah, Roxy. Wow, what has this company gone to? ”

“Says you.” Roxy takes the tape from Gregory, and fixes the two ends of the wires to each other. “How many lawsuits did you cause again?”

Grumbling, Bonnie relents. “Ugh. You fight dirty. This is why no one argues with you.”

“Good!” Roxy cheerfully agrees. “That’s the point!”

Gregory interrupts their little scuffle when he deems it’s at its closure. “Is it the right wire?”

One of the floor bots leans alongside Gregory to inspect Roxy’s handiwork. Bonnie sounds delighted when he says, “It would look that way.”

“Good, ‘cause I wasn’t going on another scavenger hunt,” Roxy complains, and crouches beside Bonnie. She expertly opens his chest plate for what may be the final time, and removes the fried VGA cord. “Wanna do the honors?”

Gregory perks up and nods, situated beside her. She points to the port, and he takes the cord from her.

“I’m going to do a reboot,” Bonnie informs them. “That should refresh everything and hopefully…”

“ Hopefully, ” Roxy continues for him, “you’ll be up and moving.”

Gregory shares a look with Roxy, and when she nods, he plugs both ends into their ports. Bonnie’s eyes go dark, and Roxy closes his chest.

And they wait.

For a solid minute, the two of them lean forward in apprehension. However, as the time edges closer to two minutes, Gregory finally asks; “Uh, how long does this take?”

“For us, two minutes,” Roxy answers, her ears ticked back. “But Bonnie’s systems were mangled and destroyed. Think of this like…” she gestures with her claws. “Like a system update after a few years. He has to refresh all his memories, recycle power…”

“Okay,” Gregory sighs. “We didn’t uh… do anything wrong, right?”

“First of all,” Roxy bumps her shoulder against his, “I don’t mess up. Remember how we’re all winners?”

“Not this again…”

“Yeah, this again. Bonnie’s a bad influence on you. Why don’t you agree with me anymore?”

Gregory laughs, and thankfully, it relieves the ball of nerves in his chest. “Sorry. You’re right. You’re— we’re — winners.”

Satisfied with his answer, Roxy turns her snout towards the rabbit. “Besides, Bonnie was supervising the whole time. Nobody knows about us more than he does.”

“Really?”

“Well, you’ve seen it. The floor bots,” she flicks an ear in their general direction. “He was always adding weird features to himself and to us. Freddy’s nose used to twitch like Bonnie’s can.”

Gregory looks intrigued. “Used to? What happened?”

“An unfortunate birthday cake to the face,” Roxy sighs. “It was devastating. The frosting jammed the sensor, so the technicians removed it entirely.” Her eyes flash slightly. “Don’t tell Bonnie— he’ll lose his shit.”

Bonnie was… adding features?

Well, it made sense. The floor bots were possibly one of the most random things he could have connected to. But if Bonnie had the ability to alter and reprogram the animatronics, what was stopping him from—

From what? Gregory questions internally. The virus? He clearly isn’t controlled. He wouldn’t hurt his friends, either. Especially not Freddy…

Not Freddy… The only one who notably wasn’t controlled…

But then why would Monty destroy who made the virus?

It wasn’t Bonnie.

Gregory can finally accept that thought. But there’s gotta be a reason the virus surfaced around the time of his death. The timing of it— that’s no coincidence.

Roxy’s staring at him strangely, and he startles from his thoughts, blurting, “What?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Roxy replies. “You feeling alright?”

“Yeah. Just nervous,” Gregory half-lies. 

He’s forced to ditch his train of thought when a feminine voice echoes around the room. Gregory sits upright, eyes blown wide. 

At first, it glitches a little, stuttering over the first word. Both figures snap their attention to Bonnie’s body— the source of the voice, Gregory realizes quickly, and watches on in confusion.

The disconnected robotic voice announces; “ System restarting. Estimated time remaining: Three minutes.” 

“I dunno if I have three more minutes in me,” Gregory jokes dryly.

“That’s what I was going to say,” Roxy snorts. “We may as well go get some food while we wait.”

Chuckling, Gregory leans his head against Roxy’s shoulder. 

Bonnie’s casing was still dull, and cracked across nearly every surface. The hole in his chest and face hadn’t been repairable, so some duct tape was covering both. Overall, he didn’t really look better, but internally, he should be functioning.

The plan was to get him up and moving, to see the gang, and continue from there. They’d be able to repair him better in parts and service, and the technicians could erase all evidence of damage if the corporation gave them the green light. 

I do not come up here anymore. I miss him. 

Gregory feels almost overwhelmed with joy. He’s back.

Roxy nudges him. “Whatcha smiling at?”

“I went up here with Freddy,” Gregory explains. “He told me he missed Bonnie, and… I dunno. I’m just happy. ”

Roxy nods slightly. “Bonnie used to host weekly bowling nights. When he disappeared, no one came up here anymore.”

“That’s sad.”

“I think Freddy was especially devastated about that,” she recalls. “Bonnie loved this alley, and I could not tell you why.”

Almost as if he was summoned, the robotic voice announces; “ System status: operational. Please stand by…”

“Oh, I’ve been standing by, ” Gregory mocks. “This is a joke. Someone needs to give you guys some real upgrades.”

“Hey, this is just Bonnie, kid,” Roxy laughs. “Him and his grandpa systems. Honestly, his body should be a modern-day structural marvel. I’m surprised we got this far.”

Gregory has to agree with that. He’s never seen an endoskeleton with so many plugs.

“ System restart complete.”

He holds his breath as Bonnie’s eyes light back up. His voice box buzzes, slightly staticky as he mutters, “That doesn’t get any easier.”

Roxy scoffs. “Big baby. Your fault for being outdated. ”

“I feel like,” Bonnie huffs in indignation, “that I had some valid reasons to skip my maintenance days.”

Gregory notices Bonnie hasn’t moved, and feels a slight jump in his chest. “Can you move?”

“Yeah, get up. Always keep us waiting.”

“Hey! A little respect for the crippled! Forgive me for being wary. ”

“More like weary, am I right?” Gregory holds up his hand. “Up top!”

Roxy highfives him.

Bonnie groans. “You guys are intolerable. What’s a rabbit gotta do to get some real hospitality around here?”

Gregory can hear the hesitance in Bonnie’s voice, so dropping the attitude, Gregory takes a different approach. “Does something feel wrong? A bad wire? Anything?”

“No,” Bonnie answers carefully. “To be completely transparent, I don’t know what it should feel like…”

Roxy tilts her head. “What? How?”

“I’m used to my thoughts,” Bonnie explains. “The floor bots. Things I had for the past few years. Even the voicebox was difficult.”

Gregory frowns. “That makes sense.”

Roxy hums thoughtfully. “Sometimes, after I reboot, I feel the same. I start small— fingers, feet, ears,” she offers. “You could try that.”

Holding his breath, Gregory watches as Bonnie’s body starts to move. Slowly, his fingers unfurl, flexing on the ground, and he rolls his neck. It’s almost startling to see him move— Gregory’s used to him being, well, dead.

His ear twitches and holds itself off the ground successfully. Gregory grins. “See? Not too bad.”

Roxy nods. “Keep it going, big guy.”

Bonnie’s joints rotate in place, and his eyelids blink. Bonnie grins— and as Gregory expected, it was just as shit-eating as he imagined it would be— and says, “Had to dig pretty deep for the blinking program.”

Oh, yeah. Why would they need to blink? 

Slowly, everythings so painfully slow, Bonnie sits up. He rolls his arms and splays his fingers, sitting up on his palms. His shoulders rise and fall with the effort, and Gregory shoots him a broad grin.

“You’re not as fragile as you think,” Roxy reminds him. “I bet it feels weird, but you’ll know your new limits.”

“Noted,” Bonnie says. “This is the craziest thing I’ve ever had to do. Thanks for being patient.”

“Dude, of course,” Gregory replies immediately. “No one expected you to be up and performing by tonight,” he scoffs.

“Oh, well, that’s what I was expecting,” Roxy fake-pouts. “Take your time, Bon, we’ve got plenty now.”

He ends up sitting up-right with support, but has no where to go afterwards. “I can’t remember how to get up,” he admits. “The instructions are there, but…”

“And you told me this guy knows everything about endoskeletons,” Gregory muses.

Roxy cracks a grin. “Oh, just you wait. By next week, he’ll have created an army of floor bots with remote-control food delivery.”

She gets to her feet, and offers Bonnie a steady hand. Gregory stands off to the side; he’s not nearly strong enough to lift a few-hundred pound robot off the ground, but his moral support had to be appreciated.

Bonnie takes it, and with Roxy’s help, his feet are under him and he’s almost forced to duck due to the low ceiling.

The bunny is easily as tall as Roxy, yet his ears tower above the wolf. He makes a show of testing each of his limbs now that he’s standing, and stretching his worn-out joints. Bonnie even tosses in an obnoxious flex, but Gregory cheers nonetheless.

His headband rests squarely on his forehead, and the mop of hair between his ears was tangled and dusty. 

Roxy points a claw at it. “You should let me fix that for you.”

Bonnie looks down and gestures to himself. “After what you did here— I might just take you up on that.”

The rabbit turns to look at Gregory, whose jaw was permanently dropped. Bonnie chuckles. “Thank you, rockstar.”

Gregory shakes his head in disbelief, and bounds a few paces to both of their sides. With little hesitation, he hugs both animatronics.

Roxy makes a strangled sound, but Bonnie doesn’t let her go. “One hug won’t kill you, Roxanne,” he says, matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, Roxanne, ” Gregory echoes. 

She doesn’t reply, but the way her tail sways is a clear indicator of her true feelings.

Gregory lets them both go, and grins. “You’re alive. For real this time.”

Bonnie pauses to study his cast. “This feels so strange … I never imagined this would happen.”

“You thought this was the end?” Gregory asks, confident he already knew the answer.

He nods with a small smile. “I was prepared.”

“Not anymore,” Roxy interjects, “and never again.”

Gregory watched the two animatronics grin at each other, feeling extra giddy. Finally, everything he’s waiting for: the reunion. 

“I think there’s someone wanting to see you,” Gregory smirks.

“Oh, really?” Bonnie’s ears perk up, and he matches Gregory’s expression. “Well— let’s not keep them waiting!”

Chapter Text

The mismatched group navigate their way out of the back lane, careful to avoid trampling each other, and specifically Gregory.

That didn’t diminish anyone’s excitement, though.

“I wonder how they’ll react,” Gregory says, bouncing along on their heels. “I really hope Freddy appreciates our hard work!”

Bonnie laughs. “Buddy, I can assure you he will. I’m—” there's a way his tail is twitching and his ears are perked on his head that betrays his excitement, but the rabbit attempts to mask it with a cool demeanor, “—happy to see him too.”

Roxy snorts. “Liar.”

“You got a problem, Roxanne?” Bonnie retorts, but his suave appearance crumbles as both of his companions have to help him leave the bowling alley halls. 

Bonnie can almost vividly remember scrambling under those halls and past the pins, although the last time he did it, it was far more frantic. Thankfully, this was pretty sluggish. 

Once they make it past the lanes, he continues. “You can say it to my face!”

The wolf snickers. “Don’t lie, dipshit. You’re never letting Freddy out of your sight after this! In fact, Freddy’s never gonna let you go!”

“Hey, I wouldn’t complain,” Bonnie cheekily grins. “No need to be jealous.”

Suddenly, just as they reach the exit to Bonnie Bowl, Roxy freezes. “Speaking of jealousy… ”

Bonnie dons a worried expression. “Look, I know what you’re thinking,” he says quickly. “I didn’t fully explain that to you guys.”

Gregory crosses his arms. “Why don’t you hate Monty for what he did?”

Roxy flicks Gregory’s ear, and he hisses in complaint. She fluffs up her tail. “Way to be blunt about it, brat.”

“He’s fine,” Bonnie interjects, sighing a little. “It’s what I told him as a floor bot, anyways…”

There was a strange reason behind why Bonnie hadn’t brought it up since; Gregory supposed he was trying to come to terms with it himself, but Bonnie didn’t really seem that unsure about the entire thing. He reiterated his forgiveness multiple times, yet, seemed unwilling to relive the night of his attack.

And, well, Gregory can fully sympathize with that. If he never had to talk about Vanny again, he could die happy.

“Since you won’t tell us , we’re still missing the key details. He killed you, dude!”

“I don’t blame him, Roxy. It wasn’t his fault,” he protests. “You know how you tried to kill Gregory?” 

Gregory blinks widely. Okay, yeah, sure, no warning. 

He’s pretty sure there isn’t a single soul in this Pizzaplex that doesn’t know everyone was trying to kill Gregory. Well, maybe not Chica or Monty, or the employees, or… 

Okay! I get it. 

Still, it’d be weird if Roxy forgot— which, judging by her reaction each time the event resurfaced, she wouldn’t ever forget, her permanent memory-banks aside. 

Flattening her ears, Roxy nods regretfully.

“It’s the same thing,” he insists. “There’s something messing with the Pizzaplex… something sinister, and unfortunately, it had a hold on all of us .”

“ Or, ” Roxy scowls, “Monty is an egotistical little bitch-boy who can’t stand seeing other people succeed. Who do you think’s right, Gregory?”

Gregory looks between them awkwardly. “Uh…”

Roxy glares at him pointedly.

“Well… uh… Monty is aggressive… and everything I’ve seen suggests he’s an asshole,” Gregory mumbles. “But you also tried to kill me… so I think Bonnie is onto something.”

Crossing his arms across his (mangled) chest, Bonnie lifts his chin. “See? The kid’s got the brains you’re lacking.”

His tone comes across as semi-serious, still, Roxy growls. “Either way, he should have told us! I get that you forgive him, or whatever, but you should have seen the way he acted when you died ! Putting his snout in Freddy’s business, and tossing away your shit like he hadn’t been the one to toss you !”

Bonnie frowns a little. “I did see that from the bots,” he admits, leaning back and forth on his feet. “But I didn’t want him to blame himself. If you saw him while he… attacked me, you’d understand.”

“Well, I don’t,” Roxy declares. “He can eat my—”

The rabbit raises his ears at her, and she sighs loudly.

“We can ask him about it,” Gregory suggests. “After we meet Freddy, of course. Hey, how’s Chica gonna react?”

Bonnie practically brightens at the name of the chicken. “Aww, I miss her,” he admits, his eyes flashing. “Could we go see her first? She’d love to help us with Freddy. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, Chica will be stoked,” Roxy replies, and the last of the bitterness fades from her tone. 

Gregory hums. “Is she as sweet as the company makes her out to be? I haven’t really had the best experience,” he muses.

“Gregory,” Roxy huffs, “If anything, she’s nicer than me!”

However, she catches Gregory’s somewhat worried expression. It’s masked well by his wry humor, but she’s been around him long enough in the last few days to catch the way his lip quivers. “Hey, kid,” she kneels down, and takes one of his hands gently. “It’ll be okay.”

“I know,” he replies, less than confident. “I just don’t know—” he swallows, and offers a shy, nervous smile. “I don’t know if she’ll forgive me as easily as you did.”

Bonnie stands off to the side with a worried look on his face. Gregory fears that he doesn’t think he’s ready to face the other animatronics, which is not the impression he wants to get across. 

Roxy tilts her head. “Of course she will. She’s Chica .”

Still, she glances over at Bonnie for assistance.

He nods. “Y’know, rockstar, when I was still in the band—”

“You still are,” Roxy interrupts. Bonnie shoots her a curious, yet scolding look, before she nods at him to continue.

“—it always amazed me how she never carried a grudge. I accidentally broke her guitar once,” he sheepishly recalls. “She was sad, because she had to miss the show, but never got mad. I’ve never seen her mad.”

“Neither have I,” Roxy confirms. “Well, there was the banana peel…”

“But you’re not a banana peel,” Bonnie finishes. “Chica will forgive you. I promise.”

“Now, if this is too soon, or you don’t think you can forgive her yet, then—”

“No!” Gregory blurts. “No, I— I’m fine. I really just want to make it up to everyone, okay? I forgive her.”

Roxy nods slowly. “Well, we won’t think any differently of you if you need a break. Believe me when I say that you are our priority.”

Bonnie peers over her shoulder, his ears flopped over in front of his face, and a shit-eating grin on his muzzle. “Rockstar, I owe you my life. Trust me, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable either.”

“I won’t be,” Gregory assures them. “ But, in the case I am, I’ll tell you.”

“Good,” Roxy grins, getting back to her feet. However, she holds out her arms, and Gregory takes the invitation easily. He hated walking around this place— maybe eventually, it would be 1) less tiring, and 2) less scary.

“Can you tell her what happened…?” Gregory asks. “Like, before she sees me, so…”

“Of course, I can,” the wolf agrees. “She’s going to react the same way I did. I think she might short-circuit when she finds out.”

Gregory deflates a little more in her arms, and both animatronics start their walk around the balcony towards the stairs, aimlessly wandering until they locate Chica. “How bad was, uh, getting hit with a go-kart?”

Bonnie snickers as he glances over at Gregory. “Why? Are you going for round two?”

Roxy shrugs. “I mean, it wasn’t great. Still feels like my jaw’s gone, half the time.”

“It was a gnarly impact,” Bonnie comments.

“Being blind was worse,” she continues. “But everyone made it out alright.”

Gregory hesitates just long enough for Roxy to ask, “So… I didn’t see what you did to the others.”

“Ahh, well,” Gregory begins, clearing his throat. Roxy peers down at him. “Monty fell off the cat-walks and split in half,” he confesses.

“And Chica?”

“I pushed her in a garbage compactor.”

Bonnie, always the jokester, says, “I saw that. A hole-in-one. A strike, I’d say.”

Gregory tries to glare at Bonnie, but Roxy’s reaction halts him in his tracks. “What?!”

Bonnie shrugs. “It was intense. I was alerted to it by the bot down there… She dragged him down with her.”

“It was really dark,” Gregory acknowledges. “Like, couldn’t see anything dark. And I took her voice box, so she wasn’t really saying anything…”

Unbeknownst to Gregory, Roxy realizes something there: the silence she’d endured while blind. The other animatronics being missing, the strange electronic shrieking followed by a hand in hers. Questioning, everybody still loves me… right?

And the painful silence she got in response, the only thing indicating someone was still there was the presence at her side. 

Roxy was, admittedly, self-obsessed and egotistical at times, but she knew she was getting better. But being so helpless, fighting against a voice in her head that wasn’t her’s, and programming she wasn’t familiar with… maybe it was comforting to resort to things she knew best: herself. 

Hearing that it wasn’t Chica’s fault in lacking words, Roxy can let go of the tiny bit of guilt she had stored up— Chica had tried. 

Now, she simply feels guilty she hadn’t bothered to check on her bandmate following their repairs.

“I’m… suddenly I’m thinking the go-kart to the head wasn’t so bad,” she manages to say, her tail flicking sharply.

Bonnie chuckles. “After all this, we should rate the methods of decommissioning we've all gone through. I think mine should be in the top two, if not the most effective.” 

“Oh, shut up,” Roxy groans. “This is not a competition.”

The rabbit makes a show of gasping. “ What? Roxanne Wolf saying something isn’t a competition?  Who are you? What have you done with my friend?”

Roxy would have slugged him in the side if not for the fact she was carrying Gregory.

“Where is Chica?” Gregory asks.

Bonnie seemingly goes to check, his eyes narrowing. Roxy takes the liberty of responding. “She says she’s near El Chip.” There’s a wisp of a smile on her muzzle.

Both of them nod, yet Bonnie looks thoughtful. “I still can’t connect to the network… I wonder why.”

“Maybe the permissions changed,” Gregory says helpfully. “Like when the wifi password gets changed, and your systems don’t know the new password.”

“That was startlingly intelligent,” Roxy huffs. “Cut it out. I don’t like it.”

“Oh, so now I can’t be a know-it-all,” Gregory complains. “I hate this place.”

Bonnie laughs at their antics. “Hate it or not, I’m glad you’re here, and the one who found me.” The rabbit squints ahead towards the arcade, tipping his head towards the general direction of El Chip. “You’re something else.”

“As if there was a choice,” Gregory snorts. “Let’s face it: you would have gotten someone’s attention eventually.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Bonnie replies. “It took— how long, Roxy?”

“Two years,” she answers neutrally.

“Two years,” he echoes, “for someone to even notice.”

Gregory sits up in Roxy’s arms, and she readjusts properly to support him. “Well, I mean, didn’t you just go with the first person who noticed, and that happened to be me?”

Bonnie looks at him intrinsically for a second. “There’s only so many people smart enough to come up with a way to communicate with a wet floor sign. You might think I didn’t really have a choice, but I wouldn’t have told just anyone where I was.”

“Even though you were desperate?”

He pulls a face. “I wouldn’t say desperate. Sure, I wanted out, but I have to be honest: I didn’t think that was possible ‘til you brought it up.”

At Gregory’s curious expression, the bunny goes on. “If you hadn’t found me when you did, I would have gone into sleep mode for who knows how long; only waking up to revisit the past. Mind you, using the floor bots alleviated a lot of my power use, but not all of it. I was using a percent or so every time I checked the cameras… so I went weeks without checking. I couldn’t tell how much time passed, honestly. But that night I watched you tear through my friends,” he stifles a giggle, “I figured I had a chance at closure, especially after Freddy seemed to like you, and you liked him.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh, ” Bonnie grins at him. “So don’t put yourself down. I won’t let it happen.”

“Neither will I,” Roxy joins him.

Gregory playfully sighs as loud as he can muster. “Okay, whatever! So I’m kinda cool. I get it! There’s enough of me to go around!”

The wolf is extremely tempted to drop the boy right then and there, but suffices with an eye roll. 

As much as Gregory wants to question: closure?; He can already tell what Bonnie meant by that. Last minute goodbyes— maybe a way to bring Freddy to him, or to give Freddy the answers he didn’t have.

He never expected to see the bear in any other fashion.

That makes Gregory’s chest swell with pride. We brought him back. 

Just looking at Bonnie makes him smile, even in a place as eerie and hopeless as the Mega Pizzaplex. He surely hopes that when it’s reopened, maybe he could experience the raw joy the other children did; although, he was never like them in any way. Maybe the happiness of Freddy’s was only reserved for those unalike to him; to those more deserving of it.

But Roxy told him he was worthy of it— the praise, the care, and support. 

Another without words: love. 

Which is such a foreign concept to him he doesn’t want to address it. He’ll stick with friendship.

Slowly, the duo escort Gregory through the passageways of the Pizzaplex. He stays well hidden among them, especially as they creep through shadows to avoid recognition. Before long, he recognizes the dim orange glow of the restaurant and the muffled noises of Fazbear Entertainment employees. He shifts in her grip and Roxy sets him down on his feet.

Bonnie twitches his ears. “There’s a lot of people in there— maybe four or five.”

“Didn’t realize they hired so many,” Roxy scoffs. “Okay. Well, I think we should prolong them noticing either of you, so, can you hide in Mazercise?”

“Sure. Sounds good, rockstar?”

Gregory shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the first time. I’ll go check it out.”

Bonnie looks worried at the suggestion, but before he could even think to protest, Gregory pulls out his flashlight and goes dashing towards the opening.

“He’s excited,” Roxy muses dryly. “Alright, bunny. Don’t get spotted just yet.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

Roxy gives him a light shove before heading inside El Chip. Bonnie goes off in the other direction, leaving her to locate Chica.

It’s not that hard at all. She sees her behind the counter, standing in front of the other workers as they take their lunch break. She absently eats a burrito of her own, but she’s not very focused on the task at hand.

Chica glances over as Roxy’s footsteps get closer, and her face lights up. “Roxy!”

Similarly to Roxy, her casing is entirely complete, and has no indication of anything she went through. Even her cheery demeanor— after seeing Roxy— negates the fact she’d ever tried to kill Gregory.

“Chica,” Roxy greets, unable to hide her grin. Chica inches around the counter, and runs to meet her. The other workers ignore both robots, picking at their nachos.

Throwing herself at the wolf, Chica buries her face into her shoulder and hair. “You’re okay!”

“Of course I’m okay,” Roxy accepts the hug. One hug won’t kill you, Roxanne . “I’m always okay.”

“I was so worried!” Chica exclaims, drawing away from her. “I haven’t heard from anyone after we got maintenance and— I—” she frowns. “I can’t remember anything. Freddy collapsed on stage, and I made sure he was okay, and then…” she shakes her head. “Roxy… What happened? ”

She tenses a little. “You’re not going to believe this.”

The chicken’s face morphs into worry. “What? I think there was a kid— maybe he was lost? I don’t know— but they didn’t tell us if he was okay! I wish I could remember!”

It seemed like Chica’s repairs took just long enough that the technicians were able to wipe the night entirely from her memories. Roxy, on the other hand, had the bits and pieces that Gregory provided, as well as her experiences post-go-kart. 

Before she can reply, Chica takes one of her hands and holds it in front of her. “Where were you? You can’t scare me like that!”

“I was busy,” Roxy replies easily. “I should have checked in. But, I promise, it was worth it.”

“As long as you’re okay…” Chica accepts, her eyes dimming. “Do you remember?”

“I’m just going to be blunt about it,” Roxy warns, and Chica nods avidly. “There was a kid. We got infected with some sort of virus that made us go crazy, and we tried to kill him. Spent the entire night hunting him like animals,” the wolf winces, “and he was pretty terrified about the whole ordeal; rightfully.”

“ What?! ” Chica gasps. “You’re— no. We don’t— I can’t — Roxy, is he okay? ”

“Well, actually, that’s half of the good news, then, if you’re worried about that,” Roxy muses. “He’s fine.”

“Thank god,” she murmurs. “I can’t believe it. Why would we do that?”

“It’s okay now,” Roxy comforts her. “Now we know. And the kid— Gregory— found something else.”

Chica tilts her head. “What did he find?”

“You have a moment?”

She looks over at the workers, who pay her no mind. She nods. “Yeah, I do. I’m really happy to see you, Roxy. Have you seen Monty, or Freddy? They didn’t reply to my messages on the network… Neither did you, but…”

“I haven’t. And, Chica, ” she squeezes her friend’s hand as she pulls her out of El Chip, “there is a reason I didn’t respond. And you’ll love it. ”

Chica allows herself to be pulled into Mazercise. The lights are off, but her eyes easily adjust to the lighting change, and she pauses outside the maze. “What did you want to show me?”

“Hey, rabbit, come on out,” Roxy calls.

“...Rabbit?” Chica questions. “Who—”

Bonnie emerges from the entrance of the maze, a broad grin on his face. He holds out his arms— the correct choice of action, as he knows the robot won’t hesitate to hug him— and says, “Hey, Chica!”

“ Bonnie?! ” Chica squeals. “You’re— you’re alive! Oh my GOSH!” She breaks away from Roxy’s side and accepts his hug, squeezing him tightly. “It’s been so long. Where were you? Don’t ever, ever do that again! I was worried sick ! We missed you! ”

“I missed you too,” Bonnie tells her, looking up to meet Roxy’s pleased expression. “I’m here now.”

Chica steps back as Roxy joins them. “How? I don’t understand— you said Gregory found him? How? ”

“Yeah, brat, how?” Roxy says, directing her attention back to the maze.

The three of them all turn and see where Gregory has poked his head out. He grins, offering them a wave, and Roxy gives him a toothy grin in return.

Keeping in mind Roxy’s words, Chica resists from rushing to his side. Her programming urges her to comfort and embrace the lone child, but she knows he won’t really like that.

Kneeling down, she makes herself a smaller figure. “You must be Gregory,” she says kindly. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m a bit of a hot-commodity around here,” Gregory quips back, “so I’m not surprised.”

Chica smiles. “Oh, are you? I believe it! You’re extremely brave.” Gregory just nods, the tips of his ears a burning red, and she continues. “Roxy told me that… we weren’t very kind to you,” she says slowly. “And I wanted to say I’m truly sorry for what I did.”

Gregory steps out from the maze, still a few feet from her. He switches his flashlight from hand-to-hand. “I forgive you. I’m sorry for hurting you, too.”

Roxy puts a hand on Chica’s shoulder. “The maintenance. It was because of him.”

“Oh,” Chica sounds confused. “I don’t remember, but I appreciate your apology and forgive you too.”

Gregory looks at Roxy briefly, who gives him a short nod, and he returns his attention to Chica. “Well, I guess we’re even. I’m glad you’re back to normal now.”

“Oh, me too,” she assures him. She may not remember the extent of her actions while under control, but if the look Roxy and Bonnie were giving her was anything to go by, she understands why he appeared somewhat nervous. “I promise I’ll never hurt you again, okay? I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

Tentatively, Gregory steps past the confines of the maze and pauses in front of her. Chica takes that as an opportunity to pull the small boy into a hug, and he doesn’t complain.

Bonnie and Roxy grin at each other at the scene as Gregory melts into the touch.

“See?” She whispers to Bonnie. “He had nothing to be worried about.”

The rabbit flicks an ear in agreement.

When Gregory steps back, Chica gets back to her feet and inspects Bonnie. “I can’t believe this. You’re back! And—” she frowns at the damage. “What happened?”

Bonnie chuckles nervously. “Well, it wasn’t pretty, but I’d say Gregory did a good job of cleaning all this up.”

“And me,” Roxy grumbles. Gregory stands by her side, and leans on her. She fluffs up his hair with her claws.

“So, wait— Gregory fixed you?” When he nods, Chica turns back around to the kid with a broad grin. “You’re joking! This is incredible— you’re fantastic! You fixed Bonnie!”

“Don’t forget Roxy,” Gregory shyly redirects.

Chica hugs him again, and he starts to get used to the constant affection from her. “Freddy’s going to lose his mind! Roxy, this is—” Chica gestures wildly, at a loss for words. “AHH!!!”

Gregory and Bonnie both laugh, and Roxy gets stuck with Chica bouncing at her side.

“So when can we tell Freddy? Wait, does Freddy know?”

“Not yet,” Bonnie grins. “But I’m looking forward to it equally as much.”

Roxy mimes a kissing noise behind him, and Bonnie whips around to glare at her. Chica giggles gleefully. 

“I can go get Freddy! Where should we meet? This is so exciting! ”

Bonnie tilts his head. “Rockstar Row is fine with me.”

“So we can use the utility tunnels,” Gregory nods. “I don’t want the workers to catch either of us… I think we're both fugitives, Bonnie.”

“We’re criminals,” Bonnie sighs mournfully. 

Roxy chuckles. “That sounds great. We’ll wait there.”

Chica excitedly bobs up and down on her heels. “Okay! I’ll go get him! This is going to be so cute !”

She pushes past the both of them and out the door, practically skipping to the atrium. Gregory watches her go with a swell in his heart.

“Before we head that way,” Roxy says, shattering his peaceful daydreams, “we’re getting you a shower. You stink. ”

Gregory has to agree— the dust and grime of the Pizzaplex wasn’t really the most flattering impression to make. He can’t complain about that. 

Within the next thirty minutes, he’d reunite two of his closest friends, righting all that had been wronged. 

(And get a well-deserved shower with some fresh clothes.)

Maybe this place wasn’t as bad as it seemed.

Chapter Text

Gregory steps out of the Mazercise shower feeling like a new person.

Although the scrapes and bruises won’t disappear with water, the dirt and dust did. Having a fresh shower was something he was entirely unused to— sometimes, he could score one at a local gym, but never with the ideal products.

Roxy found some three-in-one shampoo, conditioner, and body-wash in one of the employee lockers. It was Fazbear Ent. patented, but she still scowled and told Bonnie; “They’re defacing my name!”

Bonnie just laughed at her, and took the bottle to give to Gregory.

When he got out, the bunny gave him a new purple t-shirt. It had a Bonnie Bowling emblem on the back, and small print on the front. He said he’d found it in one of the merch booths outside, still boxed up and unworn.

Roxy, on the other hand, found a pair of black fabric shorts with a rather unobnoxious logo on the pant leg. While both of them were clearly Fazbear Ent. merch, Gregory didn’t really mind. He wasn’t picky.

(Although, the “ Freddy Fazboxers ” seemed entirely unnecessary. He was grateful for them now, but in the future, he wanted to speak to whoever was in charge about the practicality of Fazbear underwear.)

After he got dressed, Roxy beckoned him over. She replaced his band-aids tediously, thankfully with blank ones and not character-inspired ones, and checked over his wounds from the course of the week.

Bonnie watched with a sense of fondness, and despite his excitement to see Freddy, he did not hurry or rush them in any way.

Finally, Roxy got to her feet. “Good as new.”

Gregory looks down at the shirt, inspecting the small Bonnie Bowling printed on the front. “I’m a walking advertisement.”

“—For pain and misery,” Bonnie snorts. “Honestly, you should be compensated in all the merch you want.”

“Eh,” Roxy scoffs sarcastically, “maybe a free drink voucher at best.”

The three of them laugh as Roxy starts to make her way towards the elevators. “You haven’t backed out, right? Not getting nervous, are you, lover boy?”

Gregory glances at the bunny as he looks slightly startled.

“‘Course not,” Bonnie replies. “I’m as cool as a cucumber. As collected as one too. Dare I say I’m composed,” he attempts to convince them, despite the beginnings of his ramble.

Gregory rubs his chin. “Yeah… calm. ”

Roxy shrugs at Gregory. “I’m with peanut-gallery here.”

“Not you too,” Bonnie groans. “You do not want to be on team Roxy, trust me.”

“Too late,” Gregory snickers. 

It all felt so natural: the banter, the company, the domesticity of it all. If they were people, nothing would be off about it. 

But they aren’t human, and Gregory isn’t worthy of things being natural for him.

Bonnie looks nervous as they take the elevator down to the main atrium. Gregory tilts his head a little, and deciding to adopt a less-teasing, and more supportive tone, he says, “Freddy'll be so excited to see you, dude. I heard how he talked about you, and you have nothing to worry about.”

Roxy nods, her arms crossed. “Sometimes, I still walk in on him looking at your pictures.”

“What?” Bonnie blinks. “I had no idea.”

“He watches the memories like it’s a TV show,” she grins. “I think he realized some things he was too oblivious about.”

The rabbit sheepishly laughs. “Well, it’s about time.”

Gregory glances about the atrium as they make their way towards Rockstar row, opting to take the way through the ticket and photo office. There was no one around. “So, really, you have nothing to worry about at all, unless you count the fact he might short-circuit.”

“Which, let’s face it, will happen,” Roxy remarks.

Bonnie’s ears perk up, and the anxious expression he wore dissipated. “Well, that’s… Reassuring. Comical, but reassuring nonetheless. Thanks guys. I’ve missed him a lot,” he confesses needlessly. 

“I get it,” Gregory says. Although, on second thought, he really only understands why he’s feeling that way; not exactly how he feels. “I actually don’t. I’ve never missed anyone like that, but I’m sure someone is with you.”

“Little punk,” Bonnie mutters, but his memories store the information— something to bug Gregory with later. Despite the kid knowing a good majority about Bonnie, from his files and personal anecdotes, Gregory’s past was… unknown. 

No parents should ever leave a child of his age unaccompanied for so long…

Roxy fist bumps him. “You said it, kiddo. We should film this, so I can replay whatever happens over and over again to embarrass them both.”

The bunny makes a frustrated sigh, mumbling an insult at Roxy. Gregory doesn’t catch it as they all finally enter Rockstar Row.

The green lights make the hallway appear extremely dim. The showcases were glowing, and the eerie silence solidified the lack of any presence in the area. If Gregory strains, he thinks he can hear Moon creeping around the ceiling, or Vanessa scouting the greenrooms.

He shudders. 

Roxy confirms with Chica their whereabouts; Chica has just retrieved Freddy from parts and service; and leads the trio to linger just outside Chica’s and Monty’s greenrooms.

Gregory spends the next few minutes repeating to himself; I will not be jealous of Bonnie, and if he does not remember me, I will not be mad… 

Because truthfully, he had to face that possibility. If Chica lost her memories of the incident, Freddy could have too.

While that makes Gregory feel sick, he resigns himself to accepting it. Bonnie came first right now: there would be more children, there would not be another Bonnie.

So, he truly hopes that Freddy will appreciate this more than anything. It’s one hell-of-a gift. He probably never considered the possibility.

Gregory spares a glance at Bonnie, and true to his word, he does not feel jealous. In all honesty, he doesn’t think he could even feel jealousy— not when the rabbit looks so happy, and while Gregory knows the expanse of Freddy’s mechanical heart. 

Bonnie attempts to brush off his casing. While at the showers, Roxy used a towel to help wipe the dust off of Bonnie’s plating. It worked pretty well, but there were scrapes and gouges that even she couldn’t fix. 

“You look fine, Bonnie, stop trying to fix your casing. If that was possible, Roxy would have done it,” Gregory comments. 

“I tried, too.” Roxy steps forward, and scans Bonnie’s external damage again. His chest still had a gaping hole, and his right-eye was beside a massive gouge. Helpfully, she readjusts his right-eye so that it was symmetrical to his left.

His shoulders were cracked, and his casing was faded unlike the other bright and glossy animatronics. It was clear he was getting panicky about it, but Roxy whispered something in his ear that made his eyes widen.

The kid finds himself not wanting to know whatever was exchanged.

“I’m excited for you,” Roxy says, louder this time.

“Not as excited as I am,” Bonnie murmurs. “I could have waited a lifetime for this.”

“Lucky for you, a lifetime was only two years,” Gregory teases. “What’s the lifespan for an animatronic?”

Bonnie hums. “Well, I’m the same age as you… about five? Six?”

Gregory glares at him. “Asshole.”

“Pottymouth,” Bonnie sing-songs back.

Roxy groans. “I can’t wait for Freddy to put you both in your place.”

—

After searching his greenroom and asking around, Chica found Freddy in parts and service, just about to go up on his elevator. The technicians were still milling around the cylinder, but Chica didn’t have a good look from the elevator, and frankly, she didn’t care.

Freddy seemed a bit dazed and confused, but Chica plodded up to him with a bright grin. “Freddy! I have great news!”

He turns, and tilts his head slightly. “Ahh… Chica?”

“The one and only!” She goes to stand at his side. “There’s someone you have to meet! Do you have time?”

“Of course,” the bear rumbles. “Does it have to do with Monty and Roxy?”

“A little,” Chica leans back and forth. “C’mon! They’re waiting in Rockstar Row.”

Chica becomes slightly concerned when the animatronic seems to rack his mind. “That is… just outside my green room, right?”

“Yes it is, you silly goose,” Chica giggles. They both get on the elevator and Chica falls back beside him. “Your casing looks great! What did they use? It’s so shiny! ”

“I do not remember,” he replies. “But I appreciate your kindness.”

Chica elbows him. “Well, when you remember, you’ve got to let me know. You’re rocking it!”

The bear gives her a kind look, but remains quiet for the rest of the ride. Chica hates the sense of unease that sets on her shoulders, but she shakes it off— Freddy underwent the same maintenance she did, and she was confused at first too. 

After waking in the protective cylinder, Chica was greeted by the technicians as well as the left-over evidence of the previous few nights. Old, rotten casing, a cracked face-plate of hers, and garbage that seemed to be expelled during the maintenance.

She remembers being panicked, scared even; as her programming had a fear-response built into it to help her recognize repeated threats. It was experimental, and so far, it’d worked fine.

But then, seeing all the wreckage, she wondered how full-proof it was.

Even Roxy seemed fine after all of it, and Chica was still grasping at the facts. The how’s and the why’s went unanswered, and her memory failed her.

Chica spent the following night in her green room combing over the memories she did have. She viewed the one of their last performance— Freddy tumbling to his knees, twitching and spazzing on the ground, watching as she got to his side immediately to ensure he was okay. 

She gets ushered off stage with the others, and Roxy says something— “ What the hell just happened?” 

Monty stands behind them, his gaze lingering on Freddy’s crumbled figure. “ I don’t know… it doesn’t seem good.” 

And then it cuts to black. Chica loses the permissions to view her own memories, but she knows they exist. When Roxy told her the very basics, her mind indicated that the story was familiar, and even prompted her to revisit the memory. However, she couldn’t see them. Their existence still affected her performance, but had no way to see why. 

There’s only one word that really triggers any type of warning— maybe of her fear response, or something like that— and that was the kitchen. Whenever she went to dump trash, or assist the employees in cleaning, her brain warned her relentlessly not to go down there. So, she didn’t.

Chica steps out of the elevator, shaking her thoughts and distracting herself with the fact Bonnie was back! And Freddy would snap into it when he recognized Bonnie, of course.

And when he saw Gregory. That’d help him readjust.

Freddy glances around his own green room, lingering for a second as he scans the walls and decorations, almost in awe. His ears rotate slightly, and he catches sight of himself in his mirror. Chica waits for him patiently, but peers out the window to wave at Roxy.

“C’mon, slowpoke! You’re going to be so excited, Freddy!” Chica beams, pushing him out the door when she couldn’t wait anymore.

“Of course, it is always exciting to meet new friends,” Freddy replies easily, stomping through the doorway at her urging. He looks over his shoulder, frowning a little.

Chica can hardly contain her excitement. “Yeah… new friends,” she repeats, grin prevalent.

They round the corner of his greenroom and start down the hall where only Roxy stood in sight. Standing between Monty and Chica’s room were Gregory and Bonnie, where the kid was giving the bunny a last-minute pep-talk.

“Roxy,” Freddy greets, his expression somewhat neutral. “Are you who I am here to meet?”

The wolf shakes her head, ignoring his doctored vernacular. “You see me all the damn time,” she scoffs. “No, this is even better.”

He nods. “I believe it. Where are they?”

Roxy gestures towards Gregory, waving him over. Leaving Bonnie in the shadows, Gregory walks to Roxy’s side with a big grin.

His heart was hammering— so much was about to happen, he was seeing Freddy again, and Freddy was seeing his best friend for the first time in years, and wow, Freddy looks brand new…

He can see the exact moment Freddy acknowledges his presence, and he expects somewhat of a smile. Maybe some scolding, of course, for returning back here, but a smile nonetheless. Maybe a hug, or some encouraging words. Any indication he remembered the absolute hell he’d accompanied Gregory through.

But… no. Freddy looked confused.

Gregory waved shyly, both nervous and puzzled at once. He hates the way his heart starts to race. 

Freddy came to a stop in front of him. “Well, hello, buddy! Who might you be?”

Gregory frowns, and immediately, it starts to click too easily. “If you’re part of this— you’re scrap. Parts and services will slap your casing on a new endo.”

The very same thing that happened to Chica, happened to Freddy. He had no memory of the incident.

His heart shatters, and he wonders if that’s readable on his face.

Roxy and Chica exchange a look of pure horror— both of them know Freddy should recognize Gregory; yet, he didn’t.

It feels terrible, and there's a sinking feeling in his chest and a painful tear right down his lungs. He’s all at once praying that Freddy still remembers Bonnie, because if the animatronic had to go through this heartbreak… Gregory wouldn’t forgive himself. The ache of pain was unmistakable.

Because Freddy should have recognized him.

“Uh, Freddy,” Roxy says, slowly. “That’s Gregory. You… remember him, right?”

Freddy tilts his head. “I cannot say I do. I apologize.”

Chica grabs for Roxy’s hand, and she gives it to her. “Do you remember anything from a week ago? The performance?”

“I believe I remember showtime,” Freddy answers. “And I remember you. However, the last week is fuzzy.”

“So it was just the incident,” Roxy mumbles under her breath, squeezing Chica’s hand. “Just Gregory.”

And while Gregory feels devastated, it could have been worse.

Gregory needs a moment to process, and maybe a sight to raise his hopes, so he gestures at Bonnie to come out from hiding. Please remember him, please. 

Bonnie steps out from behind the wall, and gives Freddy a warm smile. “Hi, Freddy,” he says, and judging by tone alone, he’d heard that the bear didn’t remember Gregory, and out of respect kept his excitement well-contained. As if that didn’t make Gregory feel even worse. 

Way to make things all about yourself… Gregory thinks as his stomach drops.

Freddy returns the smile calmly. “Hello to you too! So many new friends!”

New… friends…? Gregory startles in horror. Wait. 

Gregory can see the way Bonnie falters when he realizes. He’s smart enough to know, to piece it together in seconds, but Gregory can also see the way Bonnie tries, even if it’s hopeless.

“Do you know who I am?” The rabbit asks, his gaze unreadable.

“Not yet, but I can tell we will be great friends!”

He doesn’t remember anything. They wiped him, he’s gone, this is all my fault, they never would have touched him if I hadn’t been there, Gregory panics. 

Bonnie’s smile fades slowly. A smile so sentimental, a smile that Gregory watched him practice for the last ten minutes. A smile meant for Freddy… yet, the person who received it was far from who Bonnie intended.

That appears to be the breaking point for the chicken, and Chica starts to sob into Roxy’s shoulder. The wolf just watches in amazement, almost disbelieving of the scene at hand. Her claws curl at her side, and her tail lashes.

Bonnie shrinks a little. “Oh… I’m Bonnie.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bonnie. And you, Gregory!” Freddy redirects his attention to Gregory, and Bonnie balls his fists. Gregory thinks he can see some of his older wires sparking. He can certainly hear Bonnie’s mechanical gears turning and grinding, and his chest seems to clunk with each second.

“Likewise,” the kid replies bitterly.

“They replaced his chip,” Chica realizes as she cries into Roxy. “He’s— he’s gone! ”

Freddy— the fake one— doesn’t seem to mind. “Why are you hanging around the Pizzaplex while it is closed?”

“I work here,” Gregory deadpans. Roxy shoots him a snarky grin, all while comforting her friend. Her paw never leaves Chica’s hand, and her eyes narrow at Freddy.

“Oh! Fascinating,” Freddy kneels down. “You are quite the little worker, then, aren’t you?”

“Something like that.”

Somewhat awkwardly, he offers Gregory a fist bump. Gregory ignores him.

“Well!” Freddy stands back up, swiveling to look at each of the bots. His movements are robotic, and precise. Gregory wants to vomit. “This was wonderful! I did not know there was another member of the band at the Mega Pizzaplex!”

Bonnie crosses his arms over his chest, and Gregory moves to stand as close to him as possible. “I’m vintage, ” he says, voice dry and unamused.

“It would appear so,” Freddy remarks, his eyes flashing at Bonnie’s obvious damage. 

“Freddy,” Roxy interrupts. “What the hell do you remember?”

He tilts his head. “Well, I remember waking up in the strange circle room. And your names, of course! I also know that we are in the Pizzaplex, as well as the proper way to greet guests and workers, such as Gregory here.”

So he wasn’t reset? Gregory wonders, his eyebrows knit. It’s almost like a blank slate.

Roxy snarls, and pulls Chica with her towards her greenroom. “Come on, guys. We need to talk.”

Gregory goes to follow her, but Bonnie interjects. “Freddy, why don’t we get to know each other?”

The boy looks at him strangely, confused about what he was planning. He can see the way he’s standing, and the look on his face reeks of hurt, but there's still something diplomatic about his suggestion. 

“Of course, Bonnie, I would be delighted,” the friendly bear grins. 

The rabbit shoots them a small, unfathomably hurt smile, and then pushes past Freddy towards the atrium, and the bear takes off after him. Distantly, Gregory can hear Freddy ask about Bonnie’s external damage.

A few moments pass by before Roxy growls again. “You’re fucking joking.”

Chica stares after the retreating duo. “Poor Bonnie! He came back to this !”

“ Excuse me, more like poor us ! That’s our Freddy too!” Roxy cries.

“Guys! There's no use arguing— we all lost Freddy!” Gregory yelps. 

Roxy makes a loud sigh. “You’re right. We need a plan.”

“A plan for what?” Chica questions, worry prevalent in her voice. The trio enter Roxy’s greenroom at the wolf’s urging, and Roxy paces in circles as Chica and Gregory sit down on the couch. Gregory watches Roxy with concern.

First they lost Bonnie, and now they’ve lost Freddy. And who’s to say about Monty? He was fully dismantled… And, of course, aggressive…

Gregory swallows back tears. He feels they’re inappropriate now, and he’s not even sure if he has anything left to feel.

The way Roxy strides around the room makes him feel even more ill. She had worked just as hard as he did, all for it to crumble to the ground because Freddy was gone. And it makes him remember, and wonder what she meant by; to help Bonnie the way I couldn’t help…

How many people have you lost, Roxy?

“How we’re getting him back,” Roxy finally says, her tail raised. “So, we all agree, that’s not Freddy, right?”

“Well, it is Freddy,” Chica murmurs. “They could have wiped his chip, or done a hard reset…”

Roxy balls her fists. “When I get my hands on the technicians…”

“I don’t think it’s their fault,” Chica replies. “He doesn’t remember anything. ”

Sighing, Roxy pauses in step. “If we want to find out anything, someone needs to go investigate.”

“The techs didn’t want me in parts in service for awhile,” Chica recalls. “And asked me to tell that to you and Monty too… I assume this is why. So, if we go down there, we won’t get any answers.”

“I’ll go.”

Chica and Roxy turn to look at Gregory. “What? No. It’s too dangerous for you to go alone—”

“Don’t even, ” Gregory snarks. “I survived just fine before. There’s nothing different this time except that you guys are on my side. I’ll be fine.”

“If anything is down there,” Chica says slowly, “he could find it.”

Roxy still looks skeptical. “I don’t like this.”

“You don’t have to like it, I’m doing it. ”

Chica clasps her hands in front of her. “The place is crawling with workers. You need to be extremely careful .”

“Gregory,” Roxy warns. “If you get caught, we can’t help you. ”

“Well, lucky for us—” Gregory makes a show of rolling up his sleeves and fastening the velcro on his Fazshoes. 

“—you’re looking at the one guy who survived six hours here alone. What’s another hour?”

Chapter Text

“Where should I put this?” The technician asks, pinching a small SIM card in her fingers. “It’s the old chip.”

Gregory squints past her into the protective cylinder, where a bare endoskeleton sits with no casing. His gut squirms uncomfortably at the thought that that skeleton was Freddy, the real one.

The one who carried him to safety while Chica chased him down; while Roxy hunted him relentlessly; while Monty slashed mercilessly at his exposed skin.

It was the very same Freddy who had become the only beacon of hope a certain bunny had— a bear with a heart so big that the Pizzaplex was more than empty now that he was gone.

“Just set it down somewhere,” one of the workers answers. “Coporate’ll tell us later. I’m sure they want to look at it.”

“Okay, whatever,” she replies, setting it down beside the computer. “It’s not like they’ll see much.”

The male technician snorts. “You think? I bet it’s highly interesting. Seeing the ol’ Fredbear dismantle the band? I’m in !”

She sighs loudly. “I just don’t think that’s what happened. Monty would do that shit.”

“I’m kidding,” he says neutrally. “Honestly, I feel bad about it. Do you?”

“They’re not alive,” she responds, sounding extremely skeptical. “It’s like unplugging a microwave. I could care less.”

He doesn’t say anything in response, and Gregory strains to get a look at the two employees. One of them was dressed in bright orange, and the other was in white. He couldn’t see their faces from where he was crouched, but he thought he could memorize their voices.

The female employee wasn’t the same one that did Roxy’s last touch-up, which made him feel a bit better about the team of workers. A few of them actually valued the robots.

“I’m hungry, can we take our lunch now?” She stretches, yawning. 

Gregory briefly takes a peek at his watch, realizing it was around noon. His stomach growls pitifully, but he refocuses his attention on the minute little chip.

“Fine, but you owe me. I got you lunch last week, and the week before that, and —”

“Okay, whatever! I get it. I owe you…”

Her voice fades as she walks out of the hallway, and Gregory takes the moment to scamper forward. Checking his surroundings, he stretches to grab for the small chip, and just as he reaches it, he catches a red-eyed stare from the hallway to his right.

Gregory looks up, squinting at the figure. His face drains of color when he realizes it was the final member of the band he was yet to see: Monty.

The gator startles at his appearance, tilting his head slightly, jaws moving in a question. “Hey, what—”

The voices of the workers get louder as they circle back for the woman’s lost phone, and Gregory freezes in panic. He can only stare in horror as the technician in orange spots him.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

Gregory regains his wits and fumbles the chip for a moment. The technician makes a move towards him, and he quickly pockets the sim card, and glances around for an escape.

“Hey, kid! Get back here!” The technician yells, catching the attention of the other workers nearby. “Monty, get that kid !”

Monty blinks slowly, and then turns his attention back to Gregory. “C’mon kid, just give it back,” he says, padding out of the shadows. Monty’s casing was completely colorless except for the stale-green paint on it. He lacked any texture, had no highlights, and looked like a budget-Montgomery Gator. And truthfully, that’s what he was at the moment.

Gregory looks past the gator, narrowing in on the hallway towards the basement. It wasn’t his favorite place, but… If he made a dash for either elevator, they’d certainly catch him while he was waiting.

The gator went to grab him as Gregory ran towards him, and noticed one final key detail— Monty didn’t have his glasses.

With one swift movement, he grabbed his Fazerblast and domed Monty cleanly in the eyes.

“ Ahh, shi— shoot!” He hisses in alarm, and Gregory takes his opening.

He peels down the hallway and underneath the garage door. His flashlight becomes his weapon of choice, hearing the heavy footsteps approaching his location.

“Where’d he go?” One of the technicians demands, and Monty’s gravely voice answers from far away.

Gregory hurries deeper into the basement, careful to avoid the endoskeletons and tripping hazards. He absolutely hates this place, but he’d hate to get caught even more…

Why is Monty hunting me!? He thinks in a panic. 

Roxy was right — Monty was just aggressive, flat-out. There was no virus even needed, apparently. It was in his nature to attack.

Spotting a near-empty cart off to his right, Gregory hops into it and pulls one of the old sheets over his head. He exhales quietly, and calms his beating heart.

The ground shakes a little and Gregory realized the endoskeletons were marching around outside, just as they did with Roxy. He sinks lower in his hiding spot, and uses his Fazwatch to check the cameras. 

He’ll have to wait awhile before he can escape— surely, the workers and Monty have the area locked down. He had no way to contact Roxy, and even if he contacted Freddy, how would he help?

Gregory frowns, picturing Bonnie’s expression upon seeing the prototype bear. His hand ghosts over the small chip in his pocket, and he resolves himself to do everything in his power to deliver the piece of memories back to the gang.

The footsteps grow heavier, and the hair on Gregory’s arm stands up on end when a voice accompanies them. 

“Hey, kid! Come on out!” Monty calls, a few yards from the boy’s hiding spot. “Ugh, move, ” he growls, and a clatter of metal follows his words. “ Stupid bots. ”

Clearing his throat, he tries again— “We ain't tryna hurt you! Just come on out and give us what ‘ya stole, ‘n this will be all over!”

Gregory squeezes his eyes shut. This is a nightmare. 

“Now, what did I say ‘bout moving!?” He tips over another endoskeleton. “I can’t stand these things. Annoyin’ as hell.”

He feels the urge to laugh, and clasps a hand over his mouth to muffle any sound.

“ Augh! ” Monty yells, and a louder metal clang follows. Gregory jolts in surprise as one of the endos crash into his hiding spot, tipping the cart and causing him to spill out. Monty rubs his head. “Nah, I’m givin— oh! There ‘ya are!”

Gregory leans up on his palms and scrambles to his feet. In the dim light, without his flashlight, only Monty’s silhouette can be seen, accompanied by his red eyes. 

“Now, just give me the chip, ‘n—”

Gregory turns and dashes away.

“ Hey!”

He manages to get his flashlight back on and in front of him and he expertly weaves down the tunnels. He slaps the buttons in their correct order, all while he hears monstrous stomping behind him.

Just a left here, and then— Gregory skids into a small room with three deactivated endoskeletons and multiple more in wire cages. His face flashes in horror. —a dead end…

Gregory turns just in time to see Monty appear in the doorway. He almost looks tired, and waves a dismissive hand at the boy. “ Damn, you’re fast. You do track, kid?”

He pushes up against the far wall, and puts a hand around the Fazerblast in his pocket.

“Why won’t ‘ya stop running? Gettin’ real tiring, y’know. What’s your name? You mute, or somethin’?”

Exaling shakily, Gregory asks, “Are you gonna hurt me?”

Monty’s face lacks the expression of the other more-detailed animatronics, but he still delivers confusion pretty well. “Huh? Nah. Just want that card ‘ya took. Whatchu want with it, anyways?”

Gregory’s grip doesn’t loosen on his weapon. “How can I believe you?”

“What?”

“You’ve tried to kill me before,” he says, eyes darting around the room, “how is this time any different?”

“Uhh…” Monty scratches his head, his mohawk of hair lopsided and unstyled. “‘Cuz I’m not?”

And then, as an afterthought, he realizes, “Wait, wait, wait. When did I try to kill ‘ya before?”

“It was almost a week ago…” Gregory answers. “When you got cut in half…?”

“Oh.” Monty crosses his arms. “Oh, yeah. Gregory, right? Damn, you’re fast. I wasn’t tryna kill you, though. We just wanted to help—”

“That’s what your memory recalls,” Gregory interrupts. “You were not trying to help.”

Monty doesn’t reply for a few moments. “Huh.”

“Yeah. So forgive me for being concerned…”

“Well, if it makes ‘ya feel better, I don’t wanna hurt ‘ya now, just get that chip offa ‘ya and get you on your way.”

“And give me to the employees?” Gregory asks, pointer finger on the trigger in his pocket.

Monty nods. “We can get you outta here safely.”

Gregory sighs in relief. “Oh, that sounds great! Here’s the chip…”

The gator takes a few steps closer, holding out his palm expectantly.

Hiding his grin, Gregory whips out the Fazerblaster, and scores Monty in the eyes again.

“ You little shit!” He bellows, staggering back. He trips over his tail and goes tumbling into the skeletons, giving Gregory a free pass out.

“Later, gator!” Gregory grins gleefully, and goes flying out of the room.

No one is catching me again, he thinks, a little too soon.

Gregory runs around the corner and reaches freedom. He can see the final garage door, and with the chip in his pocket, he smiles at the well done! ’s he’d get from the other animatronics, and the told you so! he’d get to tell them.

His ankle catches on a piece of jutted-out metal, and for really only the thirtieth time, he stumbles to the ground. He hisses out in pain, tears spilling into his eyes as the sting deepens into a throb.

Through the slight ringing of his ears, he hears countless metal footsteps. He barely looks over his shoulder in time to catch sight of the four or five endoskeletons crowding him.

Gregory’s brain screams at him to move and with his final burst of adrenaline, he backs himself up against the wall, chest heaving for breath.

His ankle aches painfully and he winces the moment his energy dies. The endoskeletons loom over him, barely inches from reaching him, and he sags against the wall. Well done. 

Shut up, he thinks meagerly in return, and hisses in discomfort again. He can’t take a glance at his foot, not while trying to fend off the endoskeletons, but he can feel warm blood running down from the open wound.

Cornered, injured, and pure exhausted, he wonders if he should have taken his chances with the technicians instead.

Each time he blinks, the robots move a mere nanometer closer. He reasons he has fifty or so blinks before one touches him, and if his vision keeps fading to black on the edges, probably even less.

Quietly, with the very last of his strength, Gregory calls out, “Roxy! Chica! Bonnie! Freddy! ”

He realizes his mistake immediately, and wants to curse out loud.

Monty looms around the corner, his voice a taunt. “Alright, no more games little gu— oh.”

A dim light flickers over head, revealing Gregory’s precarious and compromised situation. The gator pauses, his red eyes gleaming.

Gregory’s heart quickens and he struggles for breath again. The panic sets back in— it never really left, not with the robots centimeters from hurting him— and barely a whisper, he says, “ Please. ”

Monty takes a few more steps forward, and Gregory nearly closes his eyes to prevent the inevitable. He’s lucky he didn’t— the endoskeletons jut forward, and he whimpers. The tears in his eyes were long dried, simply tracks on his cheeks. Pure fear kept them from returning.

To his ultimate surprise, Monty grabs the nearest endoskeleton and simply puts it behind him. Gregory’s eyes widen as he repeats the process until all five endoskeletons are a few paces away, and Gregory’s free to go.

Even if he could walk— which his ankle was wonderfully preventing— he doesn’t think he would.

Monty kneels down in front of him, his long reptilian tail swaying behind him. “Are ‘ya okay?”

Gregory nods weakly, unsure what was about to happen.

“Uh,” Monty hesitates. “You called out for my friends. Do you want me to, uh, get them, or somethin’?”

He finally has a moment to take a glance at his leg. A gnarly gash stretched from the middle of his chin towards the back of his calf. It oozes sickly, and a pale green lined the cut. He thinks his vision goes woozy.

“That sounds great,” he whispers.

Monty’s being nice to me, he thinks, just as the world goes dark.

—

Everything’s terribly loud when he wakes up.

“I’m gonna kill you! ”

“I didn’t touch him!”

“Then why is he hurt!? ”

“I had nothin’ do do with that! I found him like that! Why else would I be here? ”

He identifies the voices as Roxy and Monty, and he shifts a little. He feels something soft beneath him, unlike the cement floor he’s used to. There’s a slight ache from his leg, and his head pounds, but he feels slightly better than earlier.

“When I find out what you did, ” Roxy snarls, “I swear, Monty, they won’t be able to fix you!”

Monty sighs loudly. “If you would just listen to me— ”

“Oh, now you have something to say?” Roxy interrupts. “Where was all this when B—”

Gregory sits up before the fighting can continue, and winces. A blanket falls off his form, and pools around his waist. He identifies the space as Chica’s greenroom, and her white couch was underneath him.

“Gregory!” Chica greet, and he realizes she was sitting at the other end of the couch. “You’re okay!”

He gives her a small grin before turning to look at the other two animatronics. Roxy lets out a sigh of relief, although her ears remain pinned against her head.

Monty grumbles. “If ‘ya think I’m lyin’, just ask him.”

Roxy tips her snout in his direction. “Did he hurt you?”

Gregory carefully pulls the blanket off of himself, revealing his expertly wrapped leg. Chica leans forward to look at it too, and nods approvingly. “Is it too tight? Do you need anything?”

“No, it’s fine,” he answers, and looks back at Roxy. “No. He didn’t do anything.”

“Lucky,” Roxy mutters.

Inhaling, Gregory tips his head towards Monty. “Did you bring me here?”

He can remember it, slightly. The endoskeletons, the cut, Monty. He’s somewhat surprised, yet almost expected to be here in Chica’s greenroom. 

“I did. You said you wanted them, although, I think Chica’s more helpful than Roxy,” Monty remarks.

Gregory hides his smile when Roxy’s tail lashes behind her.

Chica holds out something to him— a water bottle, and some sort of snack— and he takes it gratefully. Just as he cracks open the bottle, he realizes something.

The chip!

He pats both hands on his pockets, frowning when he couldn’t find his golden Fazblaster. However, in the other pocket, he feels the small chip where he left it.

“We took your Fazblaster so you could rest comfortably,” Chica notices his distress. “I have it for you.”

“Oh,” he breathes out. “Thanks.”

Roxy flashes her fangs. “Do you remember the incident?”

“The... incident…?” Monty questions. “Oh, you mean with the little guy here. Yeah, I do.”

“Why didn’t they wipe you or I’s memories?” Roxy wonders aloud. “They wiped Chica, and Freddy… obviously.”

“Speakin’ of Freddy,” Monty’s tail stirs Chica’s possessions, “why’d ‘ya want that chip so badly?”

“None of your business,” Roxy retorts immediately.

Chica shares a look with Gregory, and he’s somewhat concerned when it looks more apologetic than anything.

“What, can a guy not know what’s happenin’ to his friend?”

And that… was not the right thing to say.

Gregory sips his water bottle, and utterly prepares for all hell to break loose. Bonnie was nowhere to stop it, and it was no secret how Roxy felt about the gator following the revelation. It’s really no wonder she threatened to disassemble on the basis of injuring Gregory.

“That’s rich coming from you,” Roxy growls. “Don’t you think we deserved to hear what happened to Bonnie?”

Monty shrinks back a little, taken aback from her statement. “How— he told me it wasn’t my fault! How’d you find out?”

“Nevermind how I found out! ” The wolf points a claw at his chest. “ You should have told us! ”

The gator stays silent for a moment, and Gregory can practically hear his panic.

Roxy snarls. “You should have told us. You should have told Freddy. Instead, you watched him lose his mind . ”

Monty stays quiet again, and despite the size advantage he has on the wolf, he looks impossibly small.

“You just watched him spiral, and you knew! And not only did you know what you did— you made it worse! Acting like you deserved everything you got! You’re a replacement — that’s all you ever were , ” she continues, tail lashing fiercely. “Do you even know what it was like for us? To watch our best friend nearly get decommissioned because he lost his soulmate? Tell me. Tell me to my face— do you know? ”

Gregory watches with wide eyes, and pulls the blanket back onto his lap. “Is she always this scary?” He mutters in disbelief.

Chica shrugs. “Yeah, this is pretty on par…”

“No,” Monty finally answers, defeated. “I didn’t.”

“You’re a coward,” Roxy says coldly. “I hope Freddy takes you out himself when he’s back. Oh, cause trust me , he’s coming back, and I’m telling him everything, and he’s going to be livid. ”

Finally, the gator seems to regain his wits, and he flashes his fangs. “He was my best friend, too! Don’t act like this was easy for me!”

Roxy’s eyes widen. “ You had it bad? You killed him!” She practically shrieks. “You could have given a few fucks less! Best friend or not: you’re a murderer, buddy!”

“It wasn’t my fault, and if you’d ever listen to Bonnie for once in ‘ya life, you’d know that!” Monty fires back.

“I listened plenty to him,” Roxy says coldly. “I listened to him cover for you, defend you, risk it all for you. He made you out to be a genuinely good person.” Roxy sounds terribly calm now, and the hair on Gregory’s arms rises. “And what did you do to him?”

Long, unbearable silence.

“Answer,” Roxy growls. “Answer, you coward. What did you do to him?”

“I killed him.”

The only sound in the room comes from Roxy’s whirring systems, and her swishing tail. “Get the hell out. I could care less that Bonnie forgives you; cause I don’t. ”

Monty hesitates, willing to fight more. His red eyes skip over to Chica and Gregory, who are looking rather horrified, and he visibly deflates. He just nods weakly before he leaves. Roxy snarls at his retreating figure. Once he’s out of sight, Roxy’s shoulders significantly sag.

Like a switch, she dons her shit-eating smirk when she turns around. “So, you got it, right?”

Gregory reaches into his pocket, pulling out the small device with quivering hands. “I did.”

“Here,” Chica searches her arm compartment and reveals a tiny, card-shaped box. “I use this for party passes, but it should work fine for that… so we don’t lose it.”

Tediously, Gregory puts the chip into the box gratefully, and stuffs it back in his pocket. “Thanks.”

Chica puts a hand over his. “Don’t lose it. Please. ”

“We’ve lost enough animatronics,” Roxy adds. “We could stand to lose one more, though— if you know what I mean.”

“You were kinda harsh on him,” Gregory speaks up quietly. “Bonnie forgave him— it wasn’t his fault. Maybe there was a reason he didn’t tell you guys… I mean, realistically, how would you have reacted back in the day? ‘Cause if it was the same as now, I wouldn’t have told you either.”

Roxy puts her hands on her hips and takes a few moments to respond. “I’m not admitting you’re right, for the record,” she finally hisses, “But I see your point.”

Chica hums. “Gregory is right. I mean, I’m just as upset as you are. Bonnie is a joy to be around, and my best friend, too. Monty’s not lying: they were inseparable, so I’m a little confused. I find it hard to believe that Monty killed him…”

“Yeah. Bonnie said the guy got controlled or whatever and beat the shit out of him,” Gregory explains.

And Monty saved me and brought me back here. He didn't deserve any of that…

“You’ve been with Roxy too much— you have a potty mouth,” Chica pouts. At Gregory’s skeptical look, she adds, “Don’t worry! I won’t scold you like Freddy. I think it’s a little funny.”

Roxy takes a seat on the floor in front of them. “So, we have the chip. What’s the plan?”

Gregory leans back against the couch, sinking into the cushions. “What has the memories and the personality? The chip, right? Does the endo have anything?”

“No,” Chica answers slowly. “It doesn’t. I’ve switched endos before, and I was the same afterwards.”

Roxy agrees. “The chip has everything.”

He frowns a little. “I saw Freddy’s endo in parts and service. He didn’t have any casing, but I assume that was his. Why would they do all that work for nothing?”

“I don’t think it was for nothing,” Roxy corrects. “When they receive a new animatronic, it comes with an endo and a chip in a package deal. Most likely, the new Freddy has an advanced endoskeleton, and his blank chip was already in it. They just needed Freddy’s old casing.”

“Ahh… That makes sense. So if we put Freddy’s chip into—” his eyebrows furrow. “We really need a name for the fake Freddy…”

Chica grins. “What about Pizza?”

Roxy blinks at her. “You want to call him ‘Pizza,’” she deadpans. “I’m at the damn circus, I swear.”

“Pizza works with me,” Gregory shrugs. Finally, Roxy agrees, although not without a final glare. “Okay, so if we put Freddy’s chip into Pizza’s endo, everything should be fine, right?”

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be,” Roxy says. “Just switch out the chips and we should be golden.”

Gregory taps his fingers together as if scheming. “So we need to get Pizza alone, shut him off, and replace the chips. Do you think he’ll fight us?”

Chica winces. “He might…”

“But!” Roxy interrupts quickly, “Bonnie is with him now. If we can get him to trust Bonnie, then we could pull a fast one over him.”

“I’d hate to replace him once he develops a real personality,” Chica mumbles, almost sadly. “He deserves a chance too.”

“He’s a fraud,” Roxy denies. “I could care less. So, let's clue in Bonnie on this? Deal?”

Gregory puts out a hand. “Deal.”

The animatronics add their hands to the pile, and Gregory cheers.

It wouldn’t be long until the real Freddy was back.

Chapter Text

“I’m game,” is the first thing Bonnie says as Roxy gives him the very basic, bare-bones of their plan.

“That was easy,” Gregory remarks. “This isn’t a conflict of interest, right? You want your Freddy back?”

“Of course,” Bonnie assures him. “He waited for me— it’s only fair that I wait for him too. What do I have to do?”

Roxy picks at her claws. “Get close to Pizza—” Bonnie’s ears go lopsided, “—and get him to trust you. To my understanding, you can only do the chip procedure in parts and service, so if you can get him in the cylinder and powered off…”

“That’s a tall order,” Bonnie observes. “But, yeah. Sounds easy enough. You have the chip?”

Gregory pulls out the box in his pocket, and Bonnie nods.

Roxy had fetched Gregory a change of clothes a few hours ago, and he was grateful for the clean material. They both tended to each of his scrapes, which seemed to double by the minute. His leg was looking a bit better, but still a pale green. It didn’t hurt to walk with it, but a kick to the chin would take him down. 

Both of them were extremely careful in transferring the tiny box into his new pockets.

“If we want this to work, you guys need to act inconspicuously too,” Bonnie adds. “So we should take him to bowl, or something, so he can trust us.”

“Great idea,” Roxy nods. “Okay, so, you could go find him now and bring him to bowling in, say, an hour?”

Bonnie’s ear twitches. “Sure thing. I can do that.”

Chica tugs at her fingers. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can—”

“That’s fine!” Rozy assures her. “Gregory needs a long ass nap anyways. We can invite Monty—” her face twists in contempt at his name, “—and he’ll be none the wiser.”

Gregory crosses his arms. “I don’t need a nap.”

“Yes you do,” Roxy ‘politely’ corrects him by flashing a fang. “Let’s go, Bonnie.”

The rabbit salutes to the chicken and child, and heads out the door behind her. Gregory yawns loudly the moment he leaves, and Chica giggles at him. 

“Before I go to sleep,” Gregory says, stretching his legs, “I wanna go ask the techs why. ”

Chica tilts her head. “Don’t the techs know you’re here? How do you plan to ask them?”

“Well, you’ll ask them. But I know which one you should ask.”

She chuckles. “You have this all thought out?”

Gregory nods, slipping off the couch. She stands at his side. “I heard a conversation when I got Freddy’s chip, and I think there’s more answers to all our problems. And, well, I know you can be scary if you try…”

The chicken doesn’t seem particularly thrilled by that observation, but agrees nonetheless. “Just stay out of sight, sweetie, and I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

He goes over to her elevator and takes it down to parts and service. “Okay, so he was wearing all orange, and he had a bit of an accent. He seemed like a nice guy… before he stuck Monty on me.”

“That’s Don,” Chica tells him. “Hold on, I never asked you. What happened?”

“I took Freddy’s chip and they saw me, and got Monty to chase me. I played him a few times,” he recalls with a smirk, “but then the endoskeletons cornered me and, well, he helped. I owe him my life.”

“ That sounds like the Monty I know,” Chica puts a hand on his shoulder. “Ignore Roxy. She’s always been uptight about stuff like this… she hates seeing us get hurt, and after Foxy and Bonnie, well… ”

Gregory’s eyebrows hitch. “Do you know why?”

Shrugging, she steps from the elevator into the small hallway. “It’s not my story to tell, even if I did know.”

It has to do with Foxy, right? He wonders, still partially frowning. He oughta ask her soon.

“Hey! That’s Don,” Chica spots. “He’s about to leave. What am I asking again?”

“Why they replaced Freddy,” Gregory replies.

She nods, and starts towards the technician. Gregory stays further behind, lingering in the hallway.

Don looks up as Chica approaches, and gives her a small smile. “Hey, Chica! You haven’t seen a little pest around, have you?”

“I can’t say I have,” she says, her voice the very same tone she used within her Mazercise announcements. Gregory shivers a little. “I have a question for you!”

“And that is?”

“Why did you change Freddy’s chip?”

Don blinks in surprise. “...Can I have a warm-up question?”

She puts her hands on her hips.

“Okay, okay! Listen— it wasn’t my decision. I liked Freddy as much as the next guy— we were tight!”

“Freddy trusted you,” Chica mentions, oddly neutral.

Don inhales sharply. “He did.”

“So why did you go through with it? We miss our friend!”

“Look,” Don says, and his voice hardens. “It’s called a hustle, sweetheart. This is my job. Like it or not, that was on my things to do today list, and I got it done. End of story.”

Chica isn’t satisfied, and frankly, neither is Gregory. 

“There was a reason he was decommissioned, and I want to know.”

Don sighs. “Corporate suspects he went rogue and broke his programming, as if you guys haven’t gone off the rails already,” he snorts humorously. “The new-and-improved Freddy has a higher-functioning chip. He’s a prototype to improve your own chips. If the trial-run goes well, they’ll add the new programs to all of you. ”

“And…” Chica sounds a little worried, “will we be reset, too?”

There's a long pause before Don replies. “Yes.”

“How can we prevent it?”

Gregory can see the expression on Don’s face. “Why would I tell you that? It’s my job—”

Chica grabs the technician's wrist tightly, and he makes a noise of surprise. “Hey!”

“Look, Don,” Chica says sweetly, “I don’t take chances when it comes to my friends, okay?” 

He flinches and leans as far away from her as he can manage. 

“So, I think you should stop taking chances with your life. ”

“You wouldn’t,” Don says nervously.

“I would,” she shrugs. “How do we prevent it?”

He deflates slightly. “Out of the goodness of my heart, I’ll tell you, and not ‘cause you’re threatening me…”

Gregory scoffs and mutters, “Yeah, right…”

“If coporate find a better use of their money, they’ll ditch the project entirely,” he says. “But good luck finding—”

“Would another animatronic work?”

Don raises an eyebrow. “Now, where are you getting another one?”

“Nevermind that. Would it work? ”

Shrugging, he agrees. “I guess. If they were profitable and brought in more customers… sure. I guess.”

“Perfect,” Chica grins. “You’ve been a great help, sweetie!”

He frowns. “You did threaten my life—”

“Details!”

Chica turns to return to Gregory’s side, who remained faithfully hidden from sight. However, Don calls out after her.

“Hey, Chica?”

She looks over at him, tilting her head. “Yeah?”

“If you manage to find Freddy’s chip— the real one — don’t let the corporation get it. Not if you want to keep your friends alive.”

—

Bonnie spends the brunt of the last hour feeling nothing sort of miserable.

The inside jokes he used to share with Freddy now landed flat on their face; the memories he had were suspended in motion; Freddy was gone.

That wasn’t to say Freddy’s company wasn’t enjoyable. The bear was still… Freddy, after all…

Just not his.

The two of them agreed on taking a little impromptu tour. Bonnie hadn’t seen the new additions, such as the completed raceway, and Freddy was quite lost blubbering around. Bonnie figured they had the downtime to kill, and honestly, felt just as lost as Freddy was.

“Who is that?” Freddy questions, tilting his head. “I do not believe I know them.”

Bonnie’s ears droop a little. “Those are the staff bots. They don’t talk— not to us, at least. They’re just here to… work.”

“Oh. Fascinating.” Freddy taps one on the shoulder. “In a way, we are not unlike them, are we?”

Whatever they did to make his chip like this, Bonnie thinks, the static blurring his thoughts, they really made him immensely sentient…

“I guess.”

“Forgive me for being blunt,” Freddy says suddenly, turning to face the blue bunny. “But why are you incomplete?”

Bonnie snorts. “Uh, well, it’s a bit of a long story. I got decommissioned.”

“You did,” Freddy processes. “Does it affect your functions?”

“Obviously,” Bonnie quips, but he realizes for the seventh time this wasn’t Freddy and he doesn’t understand sarcasm… “Yeah. It does. But nothing extreme.”

“In that case, did you receive the message that we are to go bowling?”

It’s been an hour already? Bonnie shakes his head, but a grin grows on his muzzle. He hadn’t gone bowling in ages. “Roxy said that, right?”

“Yes,” Freddy affirms. “She has invited you and I to go, as well as Monty and the Daycare attendant. Although, Chica and Gregory aren’t going, it seems.”

“He’s in for the night,” Bonnie explains briefly. “Chica’s with him now.”

He’s a bit disappointed he can’t spend more time with Gregory, as the kid really seemed to share his experiences and feelings. And… well, he was starting to grow on him…

Still: he had to remain on task. Distractions, even by his own friends, had to be ignored. If he ever wanted to see Freddy again, he had to keep his goal in mind.

“The Daycare attendant— I have not met them, I believe.”

“That would be Sun, or Moon,” Bonnie clarifies, and branches away from the main stage and towards the third floor bowling alley. “They’re nice.”

Monty, he thinks, and feels a wave of excitement accompanied by a scrap of dread. He didn’t want to have to deal with the formality that their friendship would inevitably endure, due to Monty’s attack, but he also just wanted his friend back.

Somehow, despite the fact Bonnie had lost it all, it seemed he still had more to lose.

“I am inclined to believe everyone is nice,” Freddy comments. “The bowling alley is named after you. So, can you bowl?”

“Of course I can bowl!” Bonnie does his best to sport a large grin, and he does it so well it convinces himself. “Can you? ”

“I believe so… But, if not, I will require your assistance.” Freddy gives him a soft smile in return. Bonnie can almost ignore the voice that reminds him, it’s not him. 

They take the elevator to the top floor and spot the gang mingling around the front of the alley. Both animatronics greet them amicably, and Bonnie comes to a pause beside Roxy.

Monty seemed to be in deep conversation with Sun.

“Glitter glue is not a solution to everythin’ ,” he’s saying, glasses ticked down his snout. They looked new— Bonnie thought he saw his old ones crack in the fall. 

“And brawn is not a solution either!” Sun replies, shaking a spindly finger at him. “ Breaking is not synonymous with fixing! ”

“What the hell does synopsis mean?” Monty growls, rolling his eyes. “You gotta be makin’ shit up, man.”

Bonnie notes the gator is standing a far distance from Roxy, who is now calmly conversing with Freddy. 

Finally, after Sun crosses his arms and pointedly ignores Monty, the gator looks up with a loud sigh. He notices Freddy, and says, “Hey, Fred—” his gaze inevitably falls on Bonnie, and his jaw drops, “—dy…”

Roxy shifts her attention from Freddy and fixes Monty with a stern look. The gator snaps his jaw closed, but the bewildered look in his eyes makes Bonnie think he’s seeing ghosts.

Which, by all means, he is. 

“So! Is everyone ready to bowl?” Roxy says calmly, putting an arm around both Freddy and Bonnie. “I think it’s time for the king to take back his place at the top of the leaderboard.”

“Someone beat me? ” Bonnie gasps, gaping at her. “Who?”

“On the year-anniversary of your disappearance,” Roxy answers, and the glare she sends Monty is deafening, “we bowled a game or two. Chica, surprisingly, beat your record. By two pins, might I add.”

“Luckiest she’d ever been!” Sun says. “But I have no doubt you can take the title back!”

Bonnie gives Sun his best finger-guns. “Oh, I know I can.”

Roxy leads the group into the alley and sets up a lane. Freddy hovers at her shoulder, asking a few questions that she responds to with a healthy amount of snark.

All the while, Monty refuses to take his attention off Bonnie. So, with Roxy distracted, Bonnie takes the opportunity to approach him.

If anything, the gator tries to flee. It’s Sun, actually, who manages to stop him with a sharp elbow to the side, and Monty looks terrified as Bonnie pauses in front of him.

Bonnie gives him a genuine smile, and says, “Hi, Mon—”

Roxy inserts herself between them both, putting her hands on Bonnie’s shoulders. “Bon, you’re first up! You have a record to beat.”

Monty flinches, and busies himself with fixing his glasses.

Frowning slightly, Bonnie replies, “I guess I do…”

The wolf steers him up to the lane, and holds out a bowling ball in her paw. “It’s not yours, we forgot them in Freddy’s room, but this should do…”

“Yeah, thanks,” Bonnie takes it, throwing one last glance in Monty’s direction. Only, he catches Roxy as she marches up to him, and jabs a claw in his face. He strains to hear them over the gentle thrum of the alley’s music.

“—and I said that to you on purpose, ” Roxy growls. “ Stay away from him !”

“You didn’t tell me he was alive!” Monty’s voice raises significantly. “If he wants to talk to me, then—”

Bonnie studies the bowling ball between his hands. It’s orange, one of the lighter ones. Roxy gave him a lighter one because of his condition.

The condition that was caused by Monty and a bowling ball… Just in this alley…

Why did we think that was a good idea? He wonders, at the very same time he thinks, I’m over it, I don’t care, I’m alive. 

Another glance at the ball makes his vision stagger. Memories attached to that very object blind his vision, and he’s watching in horror as it leaves the floor, descending rapidly towards him, and the loud crack —

“Bonnie,” Freddy interrupts, and Bonnie startles to see the bear glancing at him curiously. “I am excited to see the tricks you must have.”

“Ahh,” Bonnie feels hot air go rushing past his mouth. I was overheating. “Yeah, of course. Just needed to find the… the programming.”

And he tries, surely, to find it. A single glance at a bowling alley should bring it to the forefront of his mind, but instead, he’s greeted by the scene of him running from a deranged, possessed gator.

He doesn’t remember how to bowl, and if he does, he’s unable to access the programming.

His distress was visible as Sun joins the two animatronics with a broad grin. “You don’t need to show off, friend!” Calmly, and casually, he guides Bonnie’s hand into the proper position to hold it, and beams. “There you go!”

“Thank you, Sun,” Bonnie mumbles under his breath. Despite the slight mishap, and the humiliation that tingles down his endo, he’s pleased to see the Daycare attendant again. 

“Of course! It’s good to see you around,” he continues. “Oh, this is going to be so fun with you back! People ask about you all the time!”

Bonnie rolls back his arm and sends the bowling ball spinning down the lane. It’s not the cleanest he’s ever bowled, if his high score of two-hundred-eighty-four is anything to go by, but it at least stays out of the gutters. Chica has him beat with two-hundred-eighty-six, and he’s not very confident in his ability to top that. 

After knocking down six pins, he looks back at Sun. “They do?”

“Yeah! I still have a lot of drawing from the daycare with you in them,” Sun replies. “You are welcome to have them!”

“That would be nice,” Bonnie agrees, fishing his bowling ball back out of the feeder. He finishes off the last four pins, earning a spare, and he wonders how deep the programming really is.

Sun takes his turn next, the bumpers coming up. He retains his cheery demeanor even when Roxy snickers at him.

Monty avoids him the entire time. No matter how hard he tried, Bonnie just couldn’t get to him, whether it was the glitches that overwhelmed his vision or the physical manifestation of Roxy. 

He’s actually somewhat upset at the wolf’s interference. If Bonnie wasn’t ready to see Monty, then he would have said it himself. He doesn’t need Roxy in his affairs… Even if she was just trying to keep him safe.

Because, in all honesty, all of them had been possessed besides Bonnie and Freddy. He’s as safe with Monty as he is with Roxy, and Chica. Yet, she didn’t seem to consider that possibility. 

Freddy has a fantastic time. He learns plenty of tricks, listens well, and is a general joy to be around. Roxy informs Bonnie that the prototype Freddy’s codename had been dubbed Pizza by Chica, and he has to chuckle at that. Chica also sends Roxy a message halfway through their second game, alerting them to the fact that Gregory was asleep and she had a few new answers to their lingering questions.

Sometimes, Freddy has a mannerism that spends Bonnie spiraling back. He’s reminded of time in his greenroom, times on stage, times in private. It makes his systems stutter.

He’s finally concluded that as nice of a job Gregory and Roxy had done, there were still parts of him that are terribly out of date. There are some things only a technician can fix, and he's yet to even be spotted. 

A security guard stopped by the bowling alley, but in the dim light, paid no attention to Bonnie at all. They probably assumed he was Chica and didn’t take a closer look. There was only a matter of time before they figured it out.

When he bowls his first strike of the night, he catches Freddy staring at him with awe and applauding. Bonnie wants to deactivate on sight; he misses him more than anything. 

It pains him to see any scraps of confusion on his plastic face. It pains him to see his friends— the gang — and knowing things may never be the same. He can only try to prevent that.

But if Pizza keeps being so supportive— including Monty in their discussions, avoiding arguments with Roxy, and questioning the world around them— Bonnie fears he’ll run out of time. Freddy will be fine, but Bonnie… Not so much.

And there’s the traitor side of him that wonders: is it so bad to keep this Freddy around?

Pure disgust makes him have to do a refresh of his systems. The thought makes his wires boil, and he wants to claw his eyes out. He wasn’t going to give up. He’d tell Pizza the truth soon — he wouldn’t back out, he wouldn’t get distracted. 

Freddy would be back, even if Pizza had to pay the price.

He wonders why the thought returns more frequently than it should.

Chapter Text

They bowled through the night, and one by one, the other animatronics called it quits. Before long, it was just Freddy, Bonnie, and Monty.

The gator was keeping his distance, and during their games, he shied away from Roxy at every opportunity he got.

While Bonnie didn’t know the extent of Roxy’s temper flying, he had a feeling it was bad. Bad enough that even Monty, the spearhead of recklessness and carelessness was listening. 

“I think that’s all for me,” Monty says, standing a few feet away. His tail brushes across the wood of the alley, and his snout is lowered with guilt.

The bunny gives Freddy a look, but the robotic bear seems impartial.

“That’s it for me, too,” Bonnie agrees. “Goodnight, Freddy.”

Monty appears surprised, and makes a move to leave the attraction before Bonnie could catch up.

“Goodnight, Bonnie, it was a pleasure getting to know you,” Freddy replies. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, ‘course. See you!”

Bonnie curses his ragged and ancient systems as he attempts to catch up to Monty. Luckily, the gator got stopped at the elevator, and he visibly shrinks away from the bunny as he joins him.

“Monty,” Bonnie greets civilly. “Where’s my, welcome back? Or, it’s good to see you, how’s life? A little something would have been nice,” he teases.

Shifting awkwardly, Monty gives him a mumbled response.

“Why are you avoiding me? I know this isn’t my best look, but look, man, I was on a tight schedule!” Bonnie jokes further, eager to break the ice after all this time. “Give me something here, Monty! I thought we were friends!”

The gator freezes and panic flits across his eyes. He makes a noticeable movement to mask his face with his glasses. Bonnie frowns at him, reaching a paw to his shoulder, but Monty flinches again.

“Are you okay?” Bonnie asks, puzzled. Did I go too far? Is he afraid of Roxy, or me ? He dreads that alternative… 

“You… said that we were friends when I killed you,” Monty says, bluntly and harshly. “You said that and I still hurt you. ”

Bonnie shrugs good-naturedly. “I’m over it.”

“They hate me,” Monty mutters. “And I hate myself for bein’—“ he pauses, curling his claws in frustration, “—a coward.”

“You’re not a coward,” Bonnie argues. “Did Roxy say that?”

He nods.

Bonnie sighs, and grabs the animatronics wrist to drag him into the elevator, and presses the button to the first floor. 

“Monty,” Bonnie says, firmly, “Roxy doesn’t get it. You know how she is. She’s fiercely loyal and protective. She’s a lot of bark and bite, but she’s our friend. She learned some startling information about us, and she lashed out.”

“So ‘ya told her,” he responds, voice quiet.

“I told her it wasn’t your fault, and I didn’t blame you,” Bonnie corrects. “You would have never hurt me, Monty. I know that.”

“But I did,” Monty insists, baring his fangs at the wall. “I hurt you and I lied to the others. I couldn’t— I wouldn't— tell anyone.”

They both step outside of the cramped space, and Bonnie’s systems whirr with the effort from the day. Probably not my best idea to go all-out on my first day back…

When Monty follows him out of the elevator, Bonnie catches the sullen expression he wears. 

Bonnie looks at him in sympathy. “You can talk to me. I’m here for you.”

“ Why?! ” Monty snarls, coming to an abrupt stop. “Why aren’t ‘ya mad at me? Why do you care about me? I killed you, Bonnie! I left you to die and I knew. Don’t ‘ya get it? I knew where you were dying and I never told a soul.”

The rabbit looks startled for a few moments, and Monty seethes down his snout. His face is painted with guilt and frustration, all at once, and Bonnie feels his wires tinge with remorse.

“You were put in a terrible position,” Bonnie begins. “You did what you had to do— for yourself, and for the band. So what, if you’d shown them my body? I suddenly get reinstalled? We both know it wouldn’t have been that simple. Monty— you weren’t the only one who knew I was back there. Workers found me. I had my hope crash and burn too many times to count,” he laughs ruefully. “It was an accident, and I know you’d never hurt me willingly.”

Monty stays silent.

“If they knew what happened, your life would have been ruined. And that is the last thing I wanted. I was mad, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I was upset. Not at you, but upset at the fact you had to walk around knowing what you did to me. It wasn’t you. We both know that.”

Quietly, Monty asks, “Is that why ‘ya told me it wasn’t my fault?”

“Yes.”

Monty finally takes a moment to look over Bonnie’s damage. The rabbit had seen him observing it from a distance, but up close, it seemed far more gnarly. Tentatively, he reaches out a claw and hovers over the massive crater in Bonnie’s chest, and makes a loud sigh.

Bonnie continues to smile at him, ears lopsided. He lifts up his hand and gives Monty a very unserious boop on the snout, in just the fashion he hates.

“There,” Bonnie says, triumphant. “Now we’re even.”

Monty cracks a grin, and gravely mumbles, “I’m sorry, Bon.”

“I forgive you,” Bonnie promises him. “I know you missed me, you big lump.”

With great care, Monty caves and hugs the other animatronic. He rests his nose on Bonnie’s shoulder, wincing at every crack and crevice of his friend’s cast. It makes him relive the entire thing, sitting helplessly in the passenger seat as the being in charge of his endo mercilessly tore into the rabbit’s chest.

Swallowing back the less-than-welcome memories, Monty pulls away, and abruptly looks away from the damage. 

Bonnie doesn’t mind, though, and gives Monty a small shove on the shoulder to get him to continue on. Monty does both: he takes a step forward, and speaks his mind.

“Sometimes,” he confesses, and steers them back towards his golf course, “It felt like I wasn’t allowed to mourn for ‘ya ‘cause of what I did. It was much easier bein’ cocky and confident about everything and—“ he sighs, “—Freddy fell apart. I wanted to help him, but it felt… selfish. I killed you and ruined his life… It felt cold and heartless to do that to him. Two-faced,” he reiterates.

The rabbit was no stranger to Monty’s shifting personalities. Before golf was even in the picture, he was given the ability to act— a personality for himself, a personality for the screen. He spent a lot of his early months in the Daycare theater running reenactments of Peter Pan with Sun. Soon, though, he garnered enough support from the children that he was given an attraction of his own and adoring fans.

But his chip still remained the same— making Monty a chilling liar and a stone-cold actor. 

That’s exactly what he saw from the wet floor bots. A seemingly unconcerned and careless gator with an ego far above his head. And, most likely, that was the message Monty wanted to get across… effectively severing ties with his anger and grief about the rabbit’s untimely death. 

“I’m sure Freddy, no matter what, would have appreciated a friend, even from you. Luckily, he had Chica and Roxy,” Bonnie responds. “But you were grieving in your own way. No one can blame you for that.”

“Roxy sure did,” he grumbles.

“‘Course she did. I’ll talk to her, okay? And then when we tell the real Freddy about this, we can proceed accordingly. Is that good?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Monty agrees. “Wait, y’all are bringing him back for real? You and that… Gregory, kid?”

Monty says his name with some apprehension. Bonnie guesses it could be because of two reasons: he’d nearly killed the kid a few nights ago, or maybe he just didn’t like him yet.

Still, Monty got along with most of the boys who visited the Pizzaplex no matter their age. If they were loud, mischievous, and troublemakers, Monty had a habit of being both their favorite and encouraging them in their shenanigans.

He had no doubt he’d like Gregory in no time. 

In fact, Bonnie was under the impression that Monty had saved Gregory— the kid was sporting a new gash on his leg, which distressed Bonnie pretty greatly, and hadn’t told him where it was from. Neither Roxy or Chica seemed too concerned about it, which made Bonnie believe that Monty didn’t have too much to do about it. 

If Monty had hurt Gregory, he would not be looking at the gator right now.

It almost surprises him how quickly every system in his body jumps to defend the kid. It feels like the past— the original years, his years on the stage, his familiar bond with his friends, his fondness for Freddy. 

Bonnie gets an adoring look across his eyes. “He’s a sweet kid, I promise. And Freddy seemed to care about him a lot, so… It’s only fair if I do too.”

“Where did he come from? Gregory, I mean,” Monty clarifies. “He was here during… What’d Roxy call it, the incident? Why’s he still here?”

“He found me,” Bonnie answers simply. “He found me and started putting everything back together. Roxy found him, and, well, you’ve probably guessed how she feels about him.”

“It’s intense,” Monty agrees slowly. “He got trapped in the basement with me. Sported a nasty cut ‘n all. Don’t think just any kid can endure that.”

“He has all of us now,” Bonnie replies with conviction.

It’s Monty’s pause that makes him doubt how effective that statement is. “Well, that’s great ‘n all, but we’re robots, Bon. Have us or not, he’s gotta go home at some point.”

Bonnie has a suspicion, but he doesn’t voice it outloud. “He doesn’t want to. Not until Freddy’s back.”

“Ahh,” Monty hums. “The kid likes ‘em?”

“Nearly as much as I do,” Bonnie teases.

“Now, that ain’t possible,” Monty laughs. “If anyone has the sheer willpower to bring that guy back, it’s you ‘n Roxy.”

“Pizza— what the girls are calling the fake Freddy— is great, seriously. Super nice,” Bonnie mumbles. “But he’s not, and never will be, the Freddy we know. ”

“And I just know Freddy’s gonna be so happy to see you when he’s back,” Monty says with a genuine tone. “You guys were— are — perfect.” 

The conversation drifts into a calm, less tense exchange. Bonne’s thankful for it— steering away from his dubious conquests to bewitch Pizza, and the precarious situation behind Gregory’s presence… Yeah, it’s a little nice to reminisce.

Monty’s the only person who’s welcomed him back in this manner— of course, he wasn’t selfish by any means; he was the one driving home the operation to bring Freddy back, but it was nice just to slow down. 

It reminds him that if he tries, he can fix change. He can stop it all— he can bring back Freddy, he can protect Gregory, he can fix everything.

Things will be broken in the process. He's okay with being one of those. 

The rabbit chuckles, letting the thoughts disappear with a refresh. “He’s perfect enough for the both of us… Especially since I look like this, now! I sure hope he likes a rugged look…”

“Enough with that,” Monty snorts. “We’re talkin’ about the same Freddy, right? The guy who stared daggers at me when we went golfin’, just ‘cause I was teaching you?”

Bonnie laughs at the memory. “He hated that, didn’t he? But ol’ Fredbear would never admit to jealousy… So Roxy was on his ass about it all night.”

“And it wasn’t even worth it,” Monty continues. “You’re still ass at minigolf.”

“Guess my teacher kinda sucked,” Bonnie pouts.

“There was only so much I could do, Bon,” Monty defends himself, “with your boyfriend gutting me with his eyes.”

Bonnie elbows Monty in laughter, and his voice box turns to static in his hysteria. Monty looks him over with concern, reaching out to steady him. “Hey, stay with me, big guy.”

“Sorry,” Bonnie wheezes out. “God, I miss him so much. ”

Because he can see his memories play out in two-times speed, racing past his mind of every moment where Freddy looked at him like he hung the stars. Every moment where it was just them, their company the only thing they’d ever need.

Your boyfriend, he hears Monty say again, echoing. It makes him feel impossibly giddy.

“Speakin’ of Freddy…” Monty speaks up, “He’s gonna decommission me…”

“He might,” Bonnie teases, snapping from his dream-laden state, “But I’ll put you back together, buddy. Who else can I wreck havoc with?”

Monty laughs genuinely, and gives the bunny a playful push. “You’re right.”

“And hey, Monty,” Bonnie stops him, a hand on his shoulder. “Just so you know: I will always be your friend, I promise .”

“I really needed that, Bon. Thank you.”

—

“Alright,” Roxy says, gaze sweeping the room. “It’s time to convene. Is everyone here?”

Chica looks on either side of her, noting Gregory and Monty. “Uh, well, close enough…”

Roxy frowns. “Where the hell is Bonnie? Did anyone tell him?”

“Uh, I di—”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” she interrupts Monty. “Chica, Gregory; did you tell him?”

Wincing, Chica shares a look with Gregory. “We haven’t seen him since that night you guys went bowling.”

Groaning, Roxy makes a great effort to turn and address Monty. “So you told him.”

“I did,” Monty replies, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know where he’s at.”

“Probably with Pizza,” Chica chimes in helpfully.

“Whatever, we’ll just… catch him up,” Roxy decides. “Okay! We need to go over what the hell is going on. First up— Pizza.”

“Ooh! Where?”

Gregory cups his mouth and stifles his laugh. Roxy blinks entirely unamused at Chica.

“Oh,” Chica realizes sheepishly. “Go on.”

“Okayyyy…” Roxy pinches the bridge of her snout. “It’s been three days since Pizza was introduced to us, and three days since Bonnie started infiltrating the enemy lines—”

“What are ‘ya talkin’ ‘bout?” Monty grumbles. “This ain’t mission control.”

“Will everyone just listen?!” Roxy sighs exasperatedly. “ So, we can count on getting Freddy back soon. But, the Pizzaplex is set to open again on Wednesday; thanks Chica.”

Chica nods and crinkles a bag of popcorn. Gregory steals a kernel.

A glance at his watch revealed that it was Saturday. Three days to get Freddy back. Three days till he left.

“ If we can get Freddy back by that time frame, and get management to see the pros of keeping Bonnie around, then we don’t have to worry about getting replaced ourselves.”

“So, really, all this counts on Bonnie,” Monty observes stoutly. “Yet, he ain’t here.”

“You invited him,” Roxy reminds him. “Be more persuasive next time.”

Gregory clears this throat loudly. “ Ahem — someone has to check in with him. What if we did another game night?”

“That could work,” Roxy agrees. “Let's do Fazerblast.”

“Am I invited?” Monty asks hopefully.

“No.”

“Oh, c’mon, Roxy!” The gator gets up from his seat and follows her as she leaves the greenroom. “You gotta get over it at some point—” he drones off.

Gregory sinks deeper into the cushions. “Three days is quite the deadline.”

“Bonnie can do it,” Chica replies. “And look, if it gets to Tuesday… we can just… brute force it.”

“And you’d be okay doing that?” Gregory asks skeptically.

She shrugs, but her frown answers volumes.

“That’s what I thought. So, if you feel that way, maybe Bonnie does too…”

“I don’t think so,” Chica shakes her head. “He wants Freddy back, and really, I don’t think there's a single thing he wouldn’t do for that. He just gets… focused, sometimes.”

Gregory knits his eyebrows. “I don’t like the way you said that.”

“Well, you’ve probably heard about his tinkering,” the floor bots, Gregory nods. “Some projects took days. We wouldn’t hear from him for almost a week. This, honestly, is nothing strange.”

“Okay,” Gregory finally agrees. “You know him best. I’m excited to see him, though… if he agrees to go blastin’ .”

Chica cracks a grin. “Bonnie was awful at all the attractions. He has terrible aim, awful power control… It amazed me that he was so good at bowling!”

Gregory laughs. “So I won’t be on his team, then. Are you good?”

“Are you kidding?” Chica gasps. “Freddy and I are the best! We were made for laser tag.”

“In that case,” Gregory tosses his golden Fazerblaster from hand-to-hand, “you’re about to get dethroned. ”

“In your dreams!”

Chapter Text

Gregory gets to Fazerblast just before Bonnie and Pizza do. He’s pretty excited to see the entirety of the group in one place, besides the fact they’re missing one person: Freddy.

Chica and Roxy hover at his side while Monty and Sun chase each other around the lobby. Gregory snorts at the sight. It’d become pretty apparent that Roxy eventually forgave Monty, although she still harbored some snarky comments about him. Maybe that was just their dynamic, but it was somewhat refreshing to see things fall back into normality.

Finally, Bonne breezes towards them with Pizza in tow. Roxy greets him, and he gives her a small, yet strained smile.

“Took ‘ya long enough,” Monty grumbles. “How are the teams gonna work?”

Roxy does a headcount. “There's seven of us. Chica and Piz— Freddy can’t be on the same team, they have Fazerblast programming,” she says with a small laugh. “So we could do Chica, Gregory, and Sun on one team, and the rest of us on the other?”

“The lil’ guy will be hard to catch,” Monty agrees. “Sounds fair.”

Freddy hums. “That sounds wonderful, although I do have doubts on my capabilities.”

“You’ll be a natural,” Bonnie assures him. 

It would be hard to miss the look Bonnie gives Freddy in that moment. Gregory might have if not for the fact Bonnie hadn’t acknowledged him. Hell, he barely acknowledged Roxy and not even Monty. 

Something had shifted.

Gregory heads into the green team tunnel with Chica and Sun behind him. The others split off into their own room to prepare for the game. 

“Little friend! I’ve heard you’re amazing at Fazerblast!” Sun cheerfully remarks.

Shrugging, Gregory takes out his golden gun. “I dunno. I got a little lucky. It might have gone differently if Chica had a laser gun last time…”

Chica giggles. “Well, I think we have a great team going now! Lucky or not.”

Gregory slips on the vest and Chica helps him adjust it. The animatronics were built in with laser targets under their casing, so they were able to play Fazerblast for any occasion. Sun, however, did not have the targets built in, and got his own vest.

“It doesn’t really fit you,” Gregory snickers as Sun struggles to adjust the straps.

“I’m afraid these were made for people, not Daycare attendants,” Sun jokes. “Oh well!”

As they walk towards the elevator to enter the arena, Gregory clears his throat. “Uh, Sun? Is Moon gonna come out?”

“Ahh…” The spikes on Sun’s faceplate sway slightly. “No. I am in safe-mode! Moon is not in service right now.”

“Good,” Gregory mumbles.

He’d forgiven Sun pretty quickly. The guy just wanted to keep his daycare orderly— not to hurt Gregory. Still, he had his reservations about Moon. They were trying to kill him. He’ll never forget scrambling through the play structures, a dim red light on his heels, the snickering above, below, and around him. 

Feeling like prey as he stumbled through the dark…

Gregory shivers. For the most part, he’s honestly recovered from the incident, he thinks. There are times he gets scared by the stomping of feet, and areas he avoids in favor of sticking to the light, but he’s not really scared to be there. Not with an entire gang of animatronics hovering around him at all times.

The elevator door dings and swings open. Gregory, Chica, and Sun step out into the green and pink lights. Chica grins. “I’ve missed this!”

“Wanna see who can get more points?” Gregory challenges.

Chica gives him an amused look. “You’re on! ”

“Remember, friends, this is a team activity!” Sun helpfully reminds them. “We should prioritize the flags! If we get one out of the way quickly, they won’t expect it.”

“Okay, let's do the pink one,” Gregory nods. “Easiest to defend.”

The recorded voice announces the start of the game, and the team quickly moves towards the pink corridors. They don’t encounter the enemy team, and keep on pace, so they make it to the flag within no time.

Chica hits the button, and the three of them take their post on the flag. Gregory stands off further away, in order to trick their opponents if they choose to fight for the flag.

The timer starts— it’s a minute this time, since more people are playing— and Gregory crouches behind one of the walls. 

Distantly, he hears voices.

“— claiming the flag! ”

“Don’t you think I know that?”

“I can’t tell what you know these days, Roxy!” 

“ Watch it, Monty! ”

He chuckles a little. 

Two pairs of footsteps clunk towards the flag. His teammates have warded off the STAFF bots pretty effectively, but a shot from one of the players would serve as a one-shot K.O. Gregory hears Monty split from Roxy, opting to take a different position to retake the site.

Gregory carefully peers out of his spot, the gator a mere few feet in front of him, and he pulls out his Fazerblast to get a clean shot.

“ Behind you! ”

Monty startles and turns just in time at Roxy’s warning to see Gregory. Gregory’s shot goes whizzing past his head, and the second one lands further off. Monty retaliates and Gregory takes the opportunity to dash away towards the flag.

He slides in behind Chica just as the final few STAFF bots attack. He domes one of them cleanly, and Sun gets the other.

“Roxy’s eyes, ” he realizes aloud. “She can see where we’re hiding!”

“She’s gonna need them to beat us,” Chica replies confidently. The flag beeps to confirm to them that it was claimed, and the group holds for a few more seconds.

Finally, Roxy peeks out from the hallway and shoots at Sun. His spindly body allows him to dodge in real-time, and the group swivel their lasers at the wolf. Meanwhile, Monty takes the other angle, and Gregory goes to counter him.

Their lasers miss, due to the opponents hiding behind walls, and Gregory knows they can’t be out in the open.

And, they haven’t seen Freddy or Bonnie…

Above them, on the suspended platform and red flag, he spots the pair just as a laser whizzes past him and hits the floor at his feet. 

Gregory ducks quickly, and yells, “Split up!”

Immediately, Chica and Sun go dashing away to the left and right, and Gregory shoots down the middle. Roxy turns to pursue Chica, and Monty continues after Gregory.

Without Roxy’s eyes on him, Gregory’s able to weave through the maze and disappear into the green corridors. He hunkers down behind a staircase, and waits for the footsteps. It seems he lost Monty, and the lights on his Fazerblast indicate that his team was still alive, so he goes on a solo mission.

He walks up the stairs cautiously, sticking close to the walls and keeping his gun at the ready. As he approaches the top flag site, he hears the sound of lasers and STAFF bots as well as casual conversation.

“I did not know it would be this easy to win,” Freddy rumbles, a stoic laugh following. 

Bonnie makes a noise of effort. “Glad you find it easy, ‘cause I’m not.”

“Your aim…” Freddy drones off, only to continue after Bonnie whiffs the entire mag of laser-shots, “is certainly something.”

Gregory continues to skirt the perimeter, finally behind both of the animatronics. Freddy turns at the speed of light to pick off a STAFF bot, but does not notice Gregory.

“Gee, thanks, Freddy,” Bonnie complains. 

Freddy glances at the flag just as it beeps, indicating they claimed it. “Chica is down, and so is Monty.”

“Damn,” Bonnie whistles, the sound extremely staticy. “Good trade, I think.”

“We will see. We almost had Gregory earlier, and I hear he is—”

Gregory takes their distraction to pop up, aiming a perfect shot at Freddy’s back. The sensor goes off, and Freddy’s gun turns off. “Oh—!”

Bonnie turns just in time to catch Gregory fleeing the scene. “Damnit!”

“That is a bummer,” Freddy says just as Gregory runs out of ear shot. 

He grins ear-to-ear, and checks his team’s status again. Sun was alive, but Chica was out as Freddy said. 

The final flag would be a turning point of points— of course, you could win by elimination, but the overall winning team was whoever got the most points. With each team having a claimed flag, and an elimination, they were pretty neck and neck besides for any STAFF bot tags. 

Gregory catches movement ahead of him, and he quickly side steps to avoid being detected. However, after another glance, he realizes it was Sun.

“Sun!” He whisper-yells. “Psst!”

The robot turns to him, and grins. “Hello, friend! It’s just us now!”

“I got Freddy,” Gregory says, joining his side. “So it’s just Roxy and Bonnie.”

“Roxy is… threatening,” Sun decides on. “She hasn’t stopped chasing me!”

Gregory turns around just in time to catch sight of the wolf in question. Her eyes glow yellow, and her Fazerblaster gleams in the pinkish light. “Found you, brat!”

He must have underestimated how fast Bonnie could move, because Sun’s gasp alerts him to the presence of the other animatronic. 

Honestly, it’s somewhat comical how easy Gregory’s able to turn and hit Bonnie directly in his blinking vest. There’s a brief moment of silence before Gregory bursts into laughter, and then disappears back into the maze. Just as he does, though, another chime alerts him to Sun being tagged.

Gregory holds his breath as he plans his next move. Roxy could see him anywhere, but he was quicker and smaller. An ambush wouldn’t work, neither would hiding… 

But there was one place she wouldn’t be able to spot him, and that was behind her. 

He scampers up the stairs and over the entire arena until he spotted the final green flag. Gregory descends carefully, watching his back and checking his corners. Eventually, he reaches the small area, and surveys his surroundings.

Deciding he had plenty of time before Roxy arrived, he takes a risk in slapping the button. Immediately, STAFF bots flood the area, and he picks them off one by one.

However, after twenty-or-so seconds pass, he notices Roxy’s silhouette approaching from a distance. He makes a show of letting the STAFF bots get closer, even losing a tick of his “health” in the process, and then disappearing into the small crowd. 

With STAFF bots moving in and out of the area, Roxy pauses just at the edge, scanning each being in the area. They turn to shoot her, which she easily counters by shooting them back, but loses track of Gregory in the process.

“Come on out, kid! You know it’s inevitable!” She taunts gleefully. Gregory’s able to ignore the chill down his spine as he effectively loops her through ducking behind STAFF bots,

Roxy takes a few steps forward to where the flag was still in the process of claiming. With a final look around, she goes to stop it with a single button press when there’s an ahem at her side.

She whips on him just in time to watch a laser tag the sensor on her chest.

Gregory pumps his fist victoriously, and the other animatronics emerge from the outskirts of the arena to congratulate him. The flag informs him of its capture, and the green team ultimately wins by elimination and by points.

“Ugh, that is so cheap!” Roxy complains.

“You have heat vision eyes!” Gregory retorts. “Guess I’m just the best!”

“That you are!” Chica beams as she goes to scoop him up. He allows it only for the chicken to put him on her shoulders with ease.

From on top of the world, he gladly soaks in the praise from Monty, Sun, and even Roxy eventually…

But he spies Bonnie and Freddy leaving without saying anything. 

His gut crawls uncomfortably, and he tries to choke it down with the scene at hand. He won laser tag!

Yet, he feels like he lost more than that.

—

Gregory wasn’t paranoid. He was rightfully concerned and that was it.

He tries not to feel hurt by Bonnie walking out, but obviously that didn’t work, as he attempts to tail the duo from afar.

There was that terrible, sinking suspicion that maybe their plan had fallen through. He trusts Bonnie, he really does, but he doesn’t trust… him. Gregory frowns. Maybe he really doesn’t trust the bunny. He was broken, malfunctioning, and blinded by emotions… but he still deserved trust.

If Bonnie wanted to keep Pizza around, who was to stop him? Surely Roxy and Chica would have something to say about it, but Bonnie knew Freddy best — and Gregory understood what the rabbit must have been thinking: this is the last thing Freddy would ever want them to do for him.

And that was the truth of it. 

Gregory exhales and takes the main elevator back to the lobby. He completely forgets it’s during broad daylight, and that workers are around, because the moment he opens the elevator doors, two people turn to face him.

“Wait, is that—”

“Hey! Who are you?”

He curses under his breath. Of course the six foot animatronic rabbit got by unscathed!

Gregory turns on his heel and dashes to his left towards the daycare. He can count on Sun to hide him for a little… hopefully… since the attendant knew of his predicament.

The workers start talking into their walkie-talkies and Gregory continues his hustle. He slides under the garage door and then tosses himself right into the slide, spiraling down into the ballpit.

He’s not expecting to sink right to the bottom, but hey, it does the job. 

“Where’d he go?”

“Go check the daycare, I’ll check outside…”

Gregory stays still, bunched into a ball to prevent the pit from stirring above him. Looks like it would be awhile before he got any answers.

“Hello, friend!” Sun greets cheerfully in his face, causing Gregory to flinch backwards in surprise. “Oh! I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“It’s fine,” Gregory dismisses. “Can I hide with you? They’re looking for me.”

Offering him a hand, which he takes, Sun pulls them through the ballpit. “Of course! Who is looking for you?”

“The staff,” he answers. “If they find me I’m in big trouble. ”

“You are quite the troublemaker, I’ll give you that,” Sun chuckles. Then, more seriously, he says, “You can hide in one of the slides! They won’t check that.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Gregory clambers out of the ball pit with Sun’s help, then climbs to the top of one of the slides. Safely out of view, Sun waves at him, then prances away to address the worker at the daycare gates.

Gregory sighs and leans his chin on his palm. Seems like he’d be stuck there awhile.

Sun opens the door. “Hello! What can I do for you?”

“Have you seen a rogue child?”

“Oh, I haven’t! Why? Is one loose?”

“Yeah, guess s—” The sound of static followed by the worker picking up the walkie-talkie. Gregory leans forward, focusing on the quiet hum.

“— You might want to— yes, that’s right— see, yes— no, it’s back. Yes, we saw— with Freddy. Yes, the—... Bonnie. It’s back.”

Bonnie, Gregory thinks in horror. They found him.

Chapter Text

Roxy puts her hands on her hips and hums approvingly. “They cleaned it up pretty nicely.”

Chica nods. “And we did a good job too!”

The raceway was fixed up where the go-kart had crashed into the backdrop, and the construction was back to being tidy. Although the place was still under intense maintenance, Roxy still wanted it at its peak for when it finally reopened.

“How do you think Gregory’s doing?” Chica asks, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Hopefully having better luck than I did,” Roxy scoffs. “Ugh. He was so intolerable—”

“Gregory?” Chica reels back in surprise; she’d had a fantastic time with him during Fazerblast, and truly every time besides that. If anything, Roxy liked him even more than she did, which was saying something…!

“No,” Roxy shakes her head quickly. “Bonnie. Gregory’s fine.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I tried to talk to him. Alone. Refused and toted along with Pizza. ” The name makes her face twist in scorn. “I think we need to face the possibility that this isn’t working out. ”

Chica falls silent. She fidgets with the casing on her finger anxiously, avoiding making eye-contact with Roxy. She knows that if she looks at her, she’ll agree. She’ll face the truth. But she wants to have faith in Bonnie, that he was stronger than this, and that his dedication to Freddy would prevail…

But maybe Bonnie believed in what she had all along: Pizza didn’t deserve this.

They could not kill another sentient animatronic.

She makes a small sigh. “It would only work out for you, Roxy.”

Roxy tilts her head, a flash of confusion passing her eyes. “And what, does that mean?”

Chica straightens. “We can’t decommission another animatronic. Doesn’t that make us just as bad as the… virus?”

The wolf doesn’t reply.

“We would never dream of killing Gregory,” Chica says carefully. “Why is Pizza different?”

“Because it is! Gregory didn’t replace anyone. He’s his own person! Pizza is the reason Freddy is gone. We have the right to take action, and right that wrong! ”

“Pizza isn’t wrong. ” Her voice is firm, leaving little room for argument about that fact.

Roxy balls her fists at her sides, staring at the ceiling for a few beats. Chica just waits; she knows Roxy’s not mad at her— she’s never fought with her— but mad at the terms they were given. 

Finally, the wolf’s shoulders sink. She rubs the bridge of her nose. “I understand, okay? I get it. This isn't the best case scenario. There isn’t one. But Freddy was your best friend too. And he would do the same for us.”

Chica feels dread settle over her. “I know.”

“And I can’t let him go without a fight,” she finishes. “That’s on the no-fly list for me.”

“So,” Chica murmurs, “if Bonnie has changed his mind, are you going to…?”

“I will do whatever it takes,” she says truthfully.

“Okay.”

Moving her feet from where they were rooted to the floor, Chica puts on her best cheery smile. “Why don’t we go find Gregory?”

“Sounds great,” Roxy replies, the anger but a trace in her voice. “ But, that won’t be necessary.”

Chica goes to question her before she gets a message rolling through the network. Chica! There is an emergency. Please meet Gregory and I at the Daycare!

“An emergency,” Roxy voices out loud, her claws already curling again. “Make sure Monty’s coming, too.”

“Why can’t you ask?” Chica replies, already on it. Hey, Monty! Meet us at the Daycare!

“‘Cause if I ask him anything, he’ll complain about it till my ears fall off,” she scoffs. “ You, on the other hand, tend to listen better.”

Chica doesn’t really have a witty retort prepared since honestly it's the truth. Chica really tries to be agreeable; Freddy said it was one of her best traits…

Am I a bad friend? She wonders.

No? 

Horrified, she realizes her thoughts had still been telegraphed to Monty, and she wants to decommission herself from the humility.

Ignore that! Haha…

Okay…

Roxy doesn’t notice her predicament, too busy hard-charging towards the daycare. Chica continues to battle with her inner monologue; thankfully not broadcasted to her friend, and truly debates if she’s even worthy to call herself Freddy’s friend.

Because she should be trying, like Roxy, and like Monty surely will. Like Bonnie should. Her morals shouldn’t be conflicted, she should do what’s right for her friend, not some metal with thoughts.

She still can’t justify her actions, and opts to shut off her mind entirely.

The daycare doors tower well above the animatronics and certainly above young children. Chica wonders what the practicality for that is— perhaps to appear like a castle, maybe, but she doesn’t see the appeal.

Just as Roxy goes to knock, a sliver appears in the door. Sun peeks out, and assuring himself it was just them, he ushers them in. “Where’s Gr—”

“Shhh!” Sun scolds.

Sun shuts the door behind them, and Chica shrugs at Roxy in a I don’t know motion.

Chica hears a small noise from one of the play structures, and turns to face it. Gregory slides out of the bottom of the nearest slide, dusts off his knees, then straightens up to wave at her.

Roxy sighs in relief as Sun goes to fetch the door for Monty.

“Gregory!” Chica greets. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he answers, looking over at the other three bots. “We have news.”

“Bad, I’m assuming,” Roxy grumbles.

Monty joins Roxy’s side just as Sun swivels to check the perimeter.

“Well, more staff saw me,” Gregory explains, although his face is drawn in worry. “Has Freddy contacted you?”

“Uh, no,” Chica answers. “Why?”

Inhaling, Gregory says, “They found Bonnie.”

Roxy’s ears flip up sharply. “ What?! ”

Monty frowns and his tail stirs the playing blocks behind him. It must take every scrap of willpower that Sun has not to reprimand him for it.

Gregory glances over at Chica, her hand clasped over her beak.

“We heard they found him from one of the workers looking for Gregory,” Sun explains simply. “We don’t think they’re after him anymore.”

“‘Cause they found something better,” Roxy growls. “Alright. Do we know where he is?”

“I last saw them in the lobby, but I think they left…” Gregory scratches his head.

“‘Prolly part’s ‘n service,” Monty says. “Now, I dunno if stormin’ the place is effective—” Roxy pushes past him and out the doors, “—’n she’s gone.”

“We should make sure she doesn’t kill someone,” Gregory snickers a little. It does well to mask his concern, but Chica could hear it in his voice.

Monty follows Roxy hurriedly while Chica lingers back with Gregory. She hears him thanking the Daycare attendant for his help, then wanders back through the doors with her. He doesn’t say much.

Chica offers him a hand, and he takes it. His face muddles with confusion, anger, and even sadness. It pains her to see.

“Bonnie’s going to be fine,” she assures him; she assures herself.

“But I fixed him,” Gregory whispers. “And they already want me. What if they think he’s dangerous, or, the lawsuits. Or something! And we didn’t bring back Freddy in time, and —”

“That’s a lot of worse case scenarios,” Chica observes breezily. “Bonnie was a member of the band. There are technicians who built him still working here. Seeing him back is a positive experience for a lot of them.”

Gregory keeps his gaze on the floor, but his grip on Chica’s hand tightens.

“We’ve already agreed that we won’t be losing anymore animatronics,” she continues. “We will defend Bonnie. He’ll be fine.”

Quietly; so quiet that Chica hardly hears him, Gregory mumbles, “I think he hates me.”

“What?” She blinks in shock, pausing. He rounds on her, still downcast. “Oh, sweetie. What gives that impression?”

“Roxy and I fixed him just so he could endure more loss,” he says nervously. You know too much for a child, Chica thinks. “He doesn’t even want to be around me! You saw him at Fazerblast! He didn’t go to the meeting— he’s stuck up on Freddy, and now he’s gonna be decommissioned again and I should have just left you guys alone! ”

“That’s not fair,” Chica tells him, kneeling down. She uses a finger to lift his chin. “You saved Bonnie. And you mean so much to the rest of us. Even after all of this, ” she cracks a smile, “I’m happy I got to meet you. I wish things were different— believe me— but I wouldn’t trade knowing you for the world.

“Bonnie will be fine. He cares about you just as much as the rest of us do! There’s a reason he’s acting weird and—” she tries to block out sounding unsure, “—we will get to the bottom of it.”

“Okay,” Gregory says, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. “Okay.”

“And, hey,” Chica stands up, quickly looking around. When she doesn’t see any workers around, she lifts Gregory back up on her shoulders. “We’ve got people on the inside. Don owes me one.”

This makes the kid laugh. “I dunno about that…”

“Oh, c’mon! He loves me!”

“Love is a strong word,” Gregory quips back. Any trace of sadness disappears from his voice, and Chica knows she’s done her job.

—

Monty offers to stay out of sight while Chica and Roxy confront the technicians. As much as he truly is concerned with Bonnie and his fate, Roxy’s temper was yet to be soothed and Chica was the voice of reason. Monty was never very diplomatic.

Besides, he’s about the size of Freddy, so he can shield Gregory far better than the others can. They decided to hunker in one of the nearby rooms, peeking over the glass and craning to hear what was being said.

He was ultimately correct: Bonnie was in parts and service with Freddy, and a lot of workers were merely pointing and exclaiming at him. Bonnie looked… undisturbed.

But, once Roxy arrived, the ambience of the room shifted.

“What the hell is going on?” Roxy demands, her tail lashing out. “Did they touch you?”

Bonnie shakes his head. “No, they’re fine. And Freddy’s here, so it’s—”

Roxy growls at him. “I could care less who’s here. I don’t trust them.”

Gregory supposes she means the technicians, though, her glare at Freddy may have included him in that generalization.

“I did not realize the workers were unaware of your presence,” Freddy comments innocently. “They seemed very amazed.”

“It’s not everyday you see a ghost,” Bonnie shrugs humorously. “Seriously, Roxy, I don’t think they—”

The main stage elevator arrives to the basement, and a group of three figures step off. One of them is a lithe and sharp woman, her hair cut perfectly to her chin and a clipboard posed at her chest. The other two were men, looking equally as mean, with broad shoulders and black suits.

Monty whispers, “ The C-E-O… ”

Gregory nods and crouches a little lower.

She skirts into the room and clicks her pen. She observes Bonnie with a bit of distaste, circling him as the pen taps the clipboard. 

The workers all fall silent, and Gregory can spot Don in the line up. He keeps glancing at Chica and miming a very surprised face. Honestly, the sight is rather comical, as he repeats the motion everytime the CEO turns her back.

Chica, in response, mouths something that Gregory doesn’t catch. 

“So,” the woman says, her voice equally as monotone as her black hair would suggest, “who’s responsible for this?”

Murmuring comes from the group of workers, and no one steps forward. The culprit wasn’t among them.

“Bringing back Bonnie…” she hums thoughtfully, “is a great idea. However, the method of execution… needs work.”

Bonnie chuckles a little, the sound vastly different from the CEO’s postured and primed tone. “I mean, given the timeframe…”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Who repaired you?”

Roxy steps forward, already seething. Monty whispers to Gregory again. “‘N you think my anger issues are bad…”

Gregory snickers a little at that, but his joy is dropped as Roxy speaks. “ What are you going to do to him?”

The CEO leans back a little, sneering slightly at the animatronic. “We should have replaced her chip,” she says to one of the men beside her. “The bear was tolerable— talkative, really, but this one…”

Roxy manages to look even more pissed off before Chica holds her back with a steady hand.

“As for you, Bonnie, we can negotiate restoring you to your former glory.” She looks perturbed as she speaks to the animatronic— Gregory could see how it was hard to grasp the sentient nature of the machines— and jots something down on her clipboard. “As long as replacement costs aren’t too high, that is.”

Chica and Roxy look a bit more relieved, but Roxy still has her claws curled at her side.

“Well, that sounds groovy to me, so,” Bonnie pats down his casing. “Am I free to go?”

Her face remains emotionless. “Once I figure out who repaired you.”

Bonnie pauses, making a slight oh sound.

Freddy looks all too happy to answer. “It was this chil—”

“—it was me,” Roxy interrupts quickly. “I did it.”

“ You, ” the CEO repeats skeptically. “By yourself?”

“Yes,” she answers. “By myself.”

The CEO writes something else down, and turns to the fleet of workers. “From now on, I don’t want any animatronics in parts and service unsupervised. Not if they can procreate. ”

Gregory exhales quietly, stealing a look at Monty. He looks decidedly anxious.

Chica is now mouthing something rapidly to Don, who shakes his head repeatedly at her. She departs Roxy’s side, and slightly shoves Don forward. The sound makes the CEO pivot and glare at him.

“Oh! Hey! Well, uh, you see, I can install a program in the cylinder there that will, uh, you know, prevent more than one of them being in there. How’s that sound?” He awkwardly smiles.

Behind him, Gregory can see the pleased smirk on Chica’s face.

“Very well,” the CEO agrees. “Until then, I want the rabbit repaired. The chip project is on hold. The manufacturers made some lengthy mistakes.”

Roxy and Monty share the same look of relief.

“It has also come to my attention that there is a child loose in the Pizzaplex. If any of you are found to be in cahoots with them, you will be dealt with accordingly.” She clicks her pen, the sound almost deafening, and she puts the clipboard under her arm. “Freddy. I’d like to talk with you.”

“Fuck,” Monty mutters, and then upon seeing Gregory’s look of half-amusement, he amends, “Freak.”

Bonnie desperately looks like he wants to argue, but the bear gladly departs the rabbit’s side. “Of course, ma’am.”

“Finally,” she says, the beginnings of a cunning grin on her voice, “ one of you have manners.”

“I am programmed to be respectful at all times,” Freddy informs her.

She doesn’t reply, turning on her heel back towards the main stage. Her left and right-hand men trail her, and Freddy follows.

Monty offers a half-wave to the group as Gregory crouches behind him. The woman winces and does not return the gesture.

Just as the CEO passes their location, Gregory hears her say something along the lines of, “ And why does that gator always creep around?”

Gregory lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when the elevator lifts back up to the top. Him and Monty both come around the corner once the workers have departed, besides for one singular one.

Don gapes as Gregory casually cruises in like he owns the place, and points. “There’s that—”

Chica elbows him in the side. “He’s with us.”

“Oh, of course he is! Why wouldn’t he be? Honestly, let’s go get all the STAFF bots too. While we’re at it, let's stage a coup!” Don complains, throwing his hands up. “I give up!”

Gregory stifles his laugh in favor of turning to Bonnie. The rabbit keeps his gaze fixated on Don, his ear twitching.

He musters a loud sigh. Bonnie still doesn’t pay him any mind.

“So, this guy is with us too?” Roxy asks skeptically.

“Yup!” Chica puts an arm around Don’s shoulders, and the poor technician simply accepts it. “He’ll make that protocol easy to turn off so we can come and go as we please in here.”

“Oh, let Don do all the heavy work,” the technician mutters, and breaks away to the computer beside the cylinder. On his way over, however, he pauses in front of Gregory. “I sure hope they treat you nicer than she treats me,” he jokes dryly, and risks a glance at Chica. She glares back.

“They do,” Gregory replies smugly. 

“Must be nice.”

Roxy clears her throat. “The elephant is a nice touch in here.”

“What elephant?” Monty looks around rapidly.

“It’s a figure of speech,” Chica helpfully informs him.

Bonnie blinks a few times before he seems to realize. “Oh. Yeah. The elephant.”

Roxy waves her hand in front of Bonnie’s face. “Hello? Are you okay?”

“Me? ‘Course,” Bonnie replies easily. His machinery clunks oddly, drawing even Don’s attention.

“That doesn’t sound good,” the technician notes. “I can take an early look, maybe, if you guys can stop Chica from attacking me.”

“I didn’t attack you! ”

“Mhhhmm…”

Roxy interrupts them. “You should take a look.”

“I’m fine,” Bonnie insists. “Completely and utterly fine.”

Gregory has to agree with Roxy and Don, but feels somewhat unwelcome making that observation too. Bonnie eventually gives in to Roxy’s request, and enters the cylinder for the first time in years.

“So,” Roxy says, leaning her shoulder on the glass from the outside. “About Freddy.”

Bonnie’s face flits slightly. “So this wasn’t about a check-up.”

“For me, it was,” Don comments, unscrewing the panels on Bonnie’s chest plate. “Sounds like a blender in here!”

“Are we still on track, Bonnie? Be honest.”

He hesitates. Gregory wonders if his heart shatters in the pause.

“I don’t…” Bonnie looks anywhere besides the people around him, but his gaze briefly snags on Gregory. He mimics an inhale. “It’s still on.”

“You don’t have any reservations about killing him?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Don sits up, holding up a single finger. “Pause. Who are we killing?”

“Prototype Freddy,” Gregory provides.

Don hums. “Okay. Carry on. I’ll pretend not to hear.”

Bonnie replies, “I don’t.”

“Okay. Good! See,” Roxy turns to Chica. “Everything is fine.”

“Overstatement of the year,” Gregory mumbles under his breath. Monty, nearby, dips his head in silent laughter.

Bonnie doesn’t look at Gregory again for the duration of his quick repair. And as much as Gregory really enjoys being ignored, he opts to leave. Roxy follows him. Things are normal.

He will leave, Freddy will be back. The plan was on track.

But Bonnie was always a good liar.

Chapter Text

“So,” Gregory says, the moment the pair sneak back into the green rooms, “we agree Pizza ratted me out, right?”

Roxy curls her hair around her claw, eyes flashing a sharp yellow. “Probably.”

Gregory just nods, an acknowledgement. Nothing more.

She pauses in the center of the room, making Gregory stop in his tracks. Roxy tilts her head, clicking her teeth together thoughtfully. He frowns at her. “What?”

“I think,” she starts, quietly, “that Bonnie was right.”

“About…?” Gregory prods, his heart dropping in his chest.

“You should have left,” she replies, almost a laugh. “You need to get out of here.”

“ I think it’s too late for that,” Gregory crosses his arms. He hopes his panic doesn’t show, but the way his voice wavers has to be noticeable.

Maybe Bonnie isn’t the only liar: he’s been lying to himself. To look forward to returning to the real world, to look forward to sleeping on the streets… The worst part was: he believed himself. He really thought he’d be able to leave in a week or so and not think twice.

Roxy sighs. “Look, kid. I don’t want you to go either. But with the virus, and the boss, and, well, us, I think it’s for the best if we consider getting you out of here.”

“I don’t want to,” he says firmly. “And if I have to go hide again, then I will—”

“No,” Roxy interrupts. She sighs again. “I’m not going to make you leave. No matter what, we’re on your side. I just… You should think about it, okay? You have a family, and a home, and people missing you outside.”

Gregory bites his tongue. “Okay.”

“And if you stay, we need to be really careful. No getting hurt.”

“Okay.”

Roxy crosses the room and grabs one of the extra water bottles she kept on her desk. She hands it to Gregory. “When’s the last time you ate?”

“Uh… what time is it?”

“It’s about nine.” Roxy awaits his response, but he raises his eyebrows in an, and? motion. “At night.”

“Oh. I had lunch after Fazerblast.”

She nods. “Well, we can get you dinner, if you’re tired. Otherwise I guess it’s just lunch part two.”

Gregory chuckles a little. “How’s Bonnie? And Chica?”

Roxy pauses for a moment as she checks the network. “Chica says Bonnie had a malfunctioning gear, but that he’s back out roaming around.” She frowns a little. “Chica’s coming back now, with Monty.”

“I’m gonna go find Bonnie.”

“Um,” Roxy sounds startled, “what did we just say about staying careful? ”

“Something probably insignificant,” Gregory replies cheekily. “See you!”

“Gregory!” Roxy calls out, but Gregory’s already out the door. 

He pulls out his flashlight and traverses down the halls. He notices a lot of workers— he spots two security guards, as opposed to just Vanessa, and it takes longer than usual to make it to the atrium.

A shiver runs down his spine as he takes the back kitchens as a means to avoid those looking for him. Every sound sends him into fight-or-flight, and his right hand never leaves his Fazerblaster.

Walking through the garages, he thinks he catches a shadow tailing him. His heart pounds hurriedly, and he leaves as fast as he can. He sprints towards the next doors, practically barging through them into the open.

The feeling of paranoia fails to fade. 

Gregory sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He pants from the run, and squints to see if he could spot either Bonnie or Freddy.

The truth was, he doesn’t really want to see Bonnie. But, maybe Roxy was right, and that Bonnie was right, and Gregory could be convinced to leave this wretched place…

It’s not that hard to find him. It’s also not that hard to spy on him— he’s on the second floor, passing by the photobooths overlooking the Fazerblast lobby. 

And I’d do that… why? Gregory wonders, just at the same time the thought crosses his mind: what if he’s lying? 

Gregory really doesn’t know that much about Bonnie. He fixed him, repaired him, and spent the better part of a week at his side. They were close, maybe— he didn’t really know how to define a close friendship, that was a strange thing to him— but there was still a lot he didn’t know. 

The lawsuits.

It’s been on his mind ever since they left those folders in the back room. It’s been on his mind since Bonnie stood up. It’s been on his mind since Bonnie stopped noticing him. 

There’s a fear, one rightfully based, on why. Bonnie could have been dangerous to children, or aloof and disconnected from his job. Maybe they left him decommissioned because he wasn’t fit to be with children.

That maybe, just maybe, Bonnie was trying to disconnect himself from Gregory to protect them both. Gregory, from death; Bonnie, from decommission.

Gregory easily follows behind the pair— of course, Freddy is with him, and they seem to be talking about his run in with the CEO.

“So,” Bonnie says, and Gregory realizes he’s just caught the beginning of the conversation, “what did she ask you?”

“Ah,” Freddy hums. “I am not allowed to say.”

Bonnie’s ears droop. “...Really? You’re not going to tell me?”

Freddy nods. “I would be breaking protocol.”

“Okay.” Bonnie’s tail twitches in annoyance. “What did you say about Gregory?”

“I cannot te—”

Bonnie grabs for the bear’s wrist. “Did you tell her about him?”

He sounds threatening. And Gregory thinks his hypothesis is correct… 

Freddy doesn’t reply for a second. It’s the thing Gregory’s noticed about him: he’s certainly less personable than the others, less sentient, in a way, but unlike the others, he’s shallow.

Gregory guesses he can’t really comprehend emotions at all. That he was programmed to problem solve, but that emotions cannot be solved that easy. Gregory would know, he has no idea what he’s feeling ever. 

Another wave of deja vu passes over him and he pivots to look over his shoulder. Nothing was there, despite the gaze that bore into his head, and the way the hair on his arms started to stand.

“I did,” Freddy finally answers. “He… does not work here, does he?”

“No,” Bonnie answers, sounding exasperated. 

“You sound annoyed,” Freddy observes.

“Because I am, ” Bonnie snapped. “Why else would Roxy lie about who fixed me? It’s not that hard to figure out Gregory was a secret. ”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. ” Bonnie takes a few seconds, his machinery whirring. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get upset.”

Freddy just smiles. “That is okay! I do not mind. I am sorry about giving away Gregory’s cover. I did not know.”

Bonnie turns to look at Freddy, mirroring an uneasy smile. “It’s… okay. He’ll be fine. He’s a smart kid.” Straightening, he continues, “Can you tell me what you said?”

The bear hesitates. “I told her that we are friends with him, and that he worked here. She did not ask further questions.”

Gregory finally decides he’s heard enough, and doubts there's anything else he can hear. Besides, he can see a group of workers to his right, and now that Pizza has truly sabotaged him, he could use a few more animatronics to watch over him

And… he misses Bonnie, strangely enough. 

“Maybe I could answer them,” he jokes loudly, walking up to the pair. “I mean, no one knows you better than yourself, amirite?”

“Gregory!” Freddy greets. “I thought you were with the others. What are you doing alone?”

“Getting food,” he half-lies. “Thought I would tag along with you guys.”

Freddy lags back so Gregory catches up to him. Bonnie stands a few paces ahead, looking from Freddy to out over the atrium.

“The company is always welcome,” Freddy assures him.

Gregory clears his throat. “Is that okay with you, Bonnie?”

“What?” Bonnie looks over his shoulder. “Oh, yeah. Of course.”

Freddy hums a little tune as they start walking. “Gregory, since you do not work here, why are you here?”

“To hang out,” he shrugs. “Chill, maybe.”

“I see. Would it not be more fun with other children?”

Gregory chuckles. “I don’t really get along with other kids.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Freddy says, giving him a kind smile. “I have heard many wonderful things about you!”

“Yeah, from robots,” Gregory jokes dryly. “Never been a people person.”

“I see.” Freddy falls quiet after that.

Gregory stares at the blue bunny ahead of him, leading the way towards what must be the bowling alley. Gregory wasn’t paying much attention as they took the escalators up, but now, the neon alley was a few paces ahead.

His chest seizes again and there's a spike of terror that grips him. He looks over his shoulder again, holding his breath. Nothing’s there.

If he blinks, the strange film on his eyes disappears, but he knows he’s imagining it, because she’s gone.

Freddy sidles up besides Bonnie and says something that Gregory doesn’t catch. Bonnie replies with something like, “ I can do it,” and Freddy simply shakes his head and leaves him.

Gregory pulls himself out of his stupor and takes a few steps forward. He pauses before Bonnie.

The rabbit crosses his arms as he waits for Freddy, who is glancing around the alley. Gregory didn’t catch what he was doing, but he was looking pretty closely— perhaps for workers, maybe, for Gregory’s sake. 

Finally, Gregory can’t take the sinking feeling in his chest and the upcoming headache, and he blurts, “Why are you avoiding me?”

Bonnie turns in slow motion. His figure turns slim, blue-casing catching a white gleam. The holes in his chest look like patchwork, and his ears stand tall once more. 

Gregory’s blood runs cold. Wide, luminescent red eyes stare back at him, and there’s a waving hand.

He can’t hear anything, which is alarming, because he could have sworn there was some music playing. He can’t move either, but nothing else is moving, so maybe that’s okay. And that can’t be who he thinks it is, because she’s gone and ghosts aren’t real and he’s alive.

Gregory is alive, and Vanny is not here.

Forcing himself to blink, he sees Bonnie now kneeled in front of him, mumbling something he still can’t hear and a hand on his shoulder he can’t entirely feel. 

Through the blurred lens of his eyes, Gregory watches Bonnie yell something out to Freddy, and when his attention returns, it’s worried and fond all the same, and finally he can hear: “ It’s okay.”

Suddenly, he gasps, and it’s the most painful thing he’s ever felt, a fire raging through his empty lungs. He coughs pitifully and there's pressure in his eyes. His legs shake slightly.

And then there's the humiliation that comes with any unhealthy breakdown— he’s usually over it, really, but he hated crying in front of Roxy, and hated ranting to Chica, and now he’s losing it in front of the one animatronic who really doesn’t seem to like him anymore.

Gregory shudders a little and squeezes his eyes shut. You’re fine stop overreacting what is wrong with you?!

“You’re okay,” he hears Bonnie repeat again, and he peeks his eyes open again. Bonnie’s still in front of him, he’s still there. “Hey, there you go. Everything’s okay.”

Swallowing back another sob, Gregory numbly nods. You’re fine she’s gone for good.

He coughs again and Bonnie steadies him. His heart drowns out all the noise around him, and he’s still shaking quite a bit and there's a fog in his head that really just prevents him from coming back to earth.

Gregory’s unsure how long he’s been standing there, probably for minutes, because Freddy returns with Roxy and Chica in tow. He’s never seen Roxy move so fast, even when she was chasing him, and—

Chasing me, his brain echoes, and involuntarily, he flinches when she kneels beside Bonnie.

“Careful,” the rabbit murmurs, “he’s terrified.”

Roxy’s concerned look deepens. “Hey, kid, are you okay?”

Gregory doesn’t answer, opting to stare at the patterned carpet until his eyes aren’t wet with tears anymore.

What just happened? The voice of reason asks him, and it’s not patronizing unlike the rest of them, and he wishes he could answer.

“Chica and I will take him back,” Roxy whispers to Bonnie. “Do you want to…?”

“No,” Bonnie answers, equally quiet. “I’ll come by when he feels better. I don’t want to stress him out…” he drones off.

Gregory strains to hear the rest of the conversation, but he’s exhausted, and nothing sounds better than a nap to quell the echoes in his mind. Luckily, Chica notices this, and scoops him up before he can hit the floor.

—

When he wakes, he’s back in Chica’s greenroom. It’s always a fifty-fifty shot which one he’ll be in, but he has to admit, her’s is comfier.

The lights are dim. Not off, but dim. He appreciates that, because he’s sure he would have seen the shadows move.

He sits up, rubbing his eyes, wincing at the puffiness of them. There's still dried tracks across his cheeks, and he wipes his palms across them. 

Gregory has to assume that it was stress that made his mind turn against him— confronting Bonnie, the words of reason from Roxy, the CEO’s powerful demeanor. Things he had to deal with instead of leaving.

But the thought of leaving almost sends him into another tizzy, and so he swallows that idea.

Chica is sitting at her desk, quietly picking at what seemed to be a pizza. Gregory cleared his throat.

She turns. “Gregory! We were so worried about you,” she exclaims, getting up and crossing to his side. “Are you feeling better?”

He nods, afraid of how raw his voice will be. 

“I have some pizza for you, since you didn’t eat,” she explains quickly, and scoots back over to the desk. She grabs one of the single-slice boxes, and hands it to him. “You have some water here…” she gestures to the bottle, “and…” Chica hesitates. “Bonnie’s outside. He wanted to talk to you.”

Gregory resists from eagerly digging into the pizza, and instead focusing his attention on Chica.

“Is that okay?” She asks. “If not, I can tell him, and it can wait, I’m sure.”

“It’s fine,” Gregory says, barely above a whisper. 

“Roxy will be back shortly… she’s…” Chica drones off. “I’ll just go get Bonnie.”

Gregory dips his head and opens up the small box. He takes a small nibble, impressed it was still warm, and then a bigger bite before Bonnie enters.

He stands as tall as Roxy, his ears half-folded over his head. His casing was blue, and red, and the hole in his chest was just that: empty.

He was Bonnie, and Vanny was gone. 

Gregory exhales a little in relief as Bonnie sits down in the center of the room, careful to stay below eye level. He offers him a small smile. “I heard you’re feeling better.”

“I am,” Gregory replies, a little warily. 

“I’m really sorry if I contributed to that,” Bonnie frowns. “I had no intentions of hurting you, or scaring you, or ignoring you. I think you deserve an explanation.”

Gregory takes a bite of pizza in response. 

“So,” Bonnie leans on his palms, elbows propped on his knees. “I guess I’ll… get along with it.” Gregory raises an eyebrow. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I got focused on Freddy and the plan, and I felt myself slipping,” he confesses.

This makes Gregory set the slice down, and tilt his head slightly.

“I thought the more time I dedicated to Pizza, the faster we could do the switch, and…” Bonnie laughs nervously. “I found myself not wanting to do it anymore.”

“So the plan wasn’t on,” Gregory realizes aloud.

“It wasn’t,” Bonnie agrees, almost shamefully. “I didn’t want to tell the others, but I figured I couldn’t hide it from you,” he chuckles sadly. “I don’t want to let anyone down. Or, I guess, myself. ”

Gregory, truthfully, doesn't want to address that entirely. He assumed as much, and it makes sense, even if he doesn’t want to accept it; instead, he asks, “The lawsuits. Roxy talked about them. What happened?”

Bonnie’s eyes widen. “Oh. That. ”

“That,” Gregory echoes. “ Why didn’t they repair you? ”

The rabbit glances away. Gregory frowns as he catches sight of his physical state: one of his ears was purely endo-skeleton, and his eye looked mis-alligned again. The duct-tape on his chest was peeling, dusty and dirty, and there's a low thrum from his machinery. Gregory heard them: they were going to repair him— but when?

If Bonnie stopped working before they started, would it still be worth it? The budget, surely, wouldn't cover a basically new animatronic…

And if he was just too much hassle.

Bonnie looks back at him, fingers tapping on his leg’s casing. “There were two. A girl.”

Gregory sinks lower on the couch, ignoring the paranoia that nips at his heels.

“She got lost,” he says, slowly, and there's a way his eyes dim that makes Gregory think he’s watching the memory back. “During hours. She got stuck in the pins. I found her before she could get seriously hurt, but… there were injuries. She didn’t want me to take her back to her parents.”

The question is on his lips— why? But Gregory fears he knows the answer.

Bonnie sighs, fringed with static. “I didn’t. I tried to find some way around it— get her to talk to someone, a person, anyone. But no one would listen to her. So her parents found us and… well, she was still injured, and there was…”

“Blood,” Gregory fills in the blank for him.

“On me, yes,” Bonnie dips his head. “And they thought I hurt her.”

“And you didn’t,” Gregory says, mostly for confirmation.

He shakes his head. “I would never. But either way… we got sued for endangerment. That was my first strike, I guess,” he chuckles bitterly. “I never saw her again.”

“There was a second one,” Gregory reminds him, his heart still pounding. He got decommissioned for doing the right thing. 

“Yes. There was.” Bonnie sits up a little straighter. “Only Freddy— our Freddy — knows about the last one. That’s why Roxy made jokes. She only knows of the second.”

“Oh.” Gregory picks at a thread on his sleeve, hands engulfed by the sweater Chica had given him. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Bonnie replies, somewhat distantly. “The second one. Well, Roxy thought it was hilarious, obviously. Management… not as much.”

Gregory feels a bit more relieved to hear this. He’s not sure if he could have taken another story that reminded him of himself. “What’d you do?”

“There was a dispute between an employee and a customer,” Bonnie says. “I watched the entire thing, with one of the old technicians. The employee said some awful stuff. The company got taken to court, but didn’t let the technician testify against them,” he explains. “So, we downloaded the video from my memory, and sent it anonymously. Long story short, the company faced some deep repercussions, and both employees were fired. But,” he adds, grinning cheekily, “the technician sued for wrongful termination. So, everything ended well.”

“How did you get in trouble for that?”

“I was the only animatronic there when it happened, so the video was pretty telling,” Bonnie laughs. “On a more serious note, that’s probably a driving force on why you can’t download our memories anymore. It’s a lengthy process, and a lot of firewalls.”

“Which is why they haven’t searched your memories,” Gregory realizes. “They had to ask Freddy to find out if I was still here, because you guys wouldn’t tell and all the cameras were out—!”

Gregory pauses his discovery to say, “Thanks for telling me…”

Bonnie nods, watching him with a sense of acute sadness. Gregory opens his mouth to ask, but Bonnie beats him to it. “I’m sorry, Gregory. These are things I should have told you earlier,” he says. “And I never should have ignored you, that was—” he rubs a hand over his face, “— really awful of me.”

“It’s okay.” Gregory puts his now-forgotten food off to the side, and descends onto the floor with Bonnie. “I should have trusted you.”

“You have every reason not to trust us, Gregory,” Bonnie comments. “I don’t think we could ever be as trustworthy as people.”

“I think it’s the opposite, actually,” Gregory hides his grin. “You guys are far better than any person I’ve met.” And then, inching forward on his knees, he holds out his hands. “No more, uh, ignoring? ”

Bonnie scoffs in amusement. “Of course. No more ignoring.”

Gregory hugs him, and if he ignores the cracks in his casing and the exposed wires, it almost feels like everything is fixed.

Slightly muffled, Gregory asks, “Does this mean that Freddy is gone?”

Bonnie leans away to meet Gregory’s eyes. His ear twitches in the pause, and finally, he shakes his head. “No. I’m with you. I’ll… do it. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Gregory agrees. “And you get to see him again.”

“And that is something to look forward to.”

Chapter Text

“I do not think the others like me,” Freddy says, dejectedly walking around the atrium with Bonnie at his side. It’s their routine, and Freddy did not think anything of it when Bonnie invited him.

“Why do you think that?” Bonnie asks calmly.

The Pizzaplex was still closed, and it was Monday. Bonnie wasn’t sure when his repairs would take place— likely when there wasn’t a lot going on, but with the summer starting, surely there would be a lot of children visiting the mall. He didn’t have a lot of time to spare anymore, not with Freddy being on the forefront of his mind. He was sticking to the plan.

He promised to Gregory, and to himself. He had to do it now.

All things aside, he’s excited to be repaired, to do things differently. Just one thing missing: Freddy.

Freddy doesn't mimic sounds as the others do, otherwise, Bonnie is positive he would have heard a sigh. “You treat me far better. They treat me as a stranger.”

“Ahh,” Bonnie hums. “I’m sorry.”

The replacement Freddy had no idea he was just that— he was programmed to blend right into the scene at the Pizzaplex, even knowing his fellow bandmate’s pasts. However, that made it so he didn’t have the old Freddy’s memories, or any notation of Bonnie, so everything he learned of the rabbit was from his own free will.

Bonnie figured out that the company had intended to seamlessly infiltrate Freddy into the band. With these pre-existing memories, and loaded hard-drives of shows that Pizza didn’t personally perform, he could have believed he was there all along. 

“It is alright,” Freddy answers, his eyes staring blankly across the party rooms. “I suppose I have one question, though,” he pauses, and Bonnie rounds on him. “Why do you treat me so well?”

Bonnie gives him a small smile. “Because I love you, Freddy.”

He spent the night with Gregory and the others. They simply sat in Chica’s green room, enjoying each other's company, and doting over the child. It was nice, it was like before. Just one thing missing…

Freddy tilts his head, and Bonnie starts to see strains of personality sticking out from his basic coding. He begins to learn, and crack jokes— his question to Bonnie was a sore reminder that he was becoming a real entity.

But Bonnie would have done anything to get his soulmate back, even if he had to sacrifice another along the way. 

He wouldn’t have, though, if not for the painful reminder that many missed Freddy. It wasn’t his decision to make. Freddy had to come back, and Bonnie resolved himself to try even harder.

Making the deadline of Pizza’s life today.

Because I love you, Freddy, he thinks again, the memory embedded in his recent files. A constant reminder of what was at stake.

“I do not understand,” he says, slowly. “What is that?”

“It’s an intense feeling of affection,” Bonnie replies. “It’s selfish and selfless. It doesn’t have one strict definition, but it means you care. ”

The bear nods thoughtfully. “That is quite kind of you, then. I do not know if I am capable of experiencing love, but if I was, it would be for you.”

Bonnie freezes, and hears his voice box wheeze. In embarrassment, he puts a hand over his torn chest, and forces a laugh.

It would be for you. Maybe, in every universe, in every decade, there was a Freddy for every Bonnie, just as Freddy had told him. But Pizza was not his Freddy, and nothing would change that.

I miss you, Bonnie admits to himself, and the simple words hit the hardest. 

Freddy’s gaze drops to the damage. “I truly hope they will fix that for you one day. It looks uncomfortable.”

Neutrally, Bonnie replies, “I hope so too, but hey, it’s not that bad. They did a good job.”

“How did Roxy and Gregory do it? He seems young, and we seem complicated and sophisticated.” Freddy asks.

“Blueprints,” Bonnie shrugs. “We all worked through it together. Roxy had some experience… but it was definitely confusing at times.”

“There is a lot I am confused about,” Freddy admits. “I have an understanding of the Pizzaplex, and it feels as if I have been here for ages, but my memory is blank.”

“It is?” Bonnie asks, hiding his panic. Pizza was realizing what Bonnie already had.

“I cannot remember what happened a year ago, or even a week ago,” Freddy begins to sound more confused and lost. “Bonnie, be honest to me. Did I replace the other Freddy?”

Making a choked sound, Bonnie’s ears droop. “How did you—?”

“It is quite obvious, in retrospect,” Freddy mulls, and there is true sadness in his expression. “You act as if you have known me forever. You know very discreet things in my coding— such as my passion for comic books, or my favorite songs— yet I do not know who you are. How is that possible?”

“I’ve been… gone… a while,” Bonnie attempts to remedy, but it was too late.

“Even so, you knew about me before I ever met you. What happened to him? Is that why the others dislike me?”

Bonnie traces over the cracks in his arms, hesitant to answer. “You replaced him because you had new technology. Besides that, I don’t really know.”

Freddy opens and closes his muzzle a few times before he finally settles with: “You loved him.”

“I did,” Bonnie murmurs. “I still do.”

“How is that possible? He is gone,” Freddy’s tone rises in volume, and Bonnie notes it at once.

He’s not sure what to answer, or if there’s a right answer, but he tries. “Because it’s an everlasting thing. As long as I have the memories, it’s nearly as good as having him,” Bonnie’s face looks oddly relaxed. “But I can still miss him more than anything.”

Freddy doesn’t reply, focused on Bonnie’s casing. His eyes skip over each crack, and Bonnie feels impossibly bare under his gaze.

“You love him because he could come back,” he guesses, “right?”

“I would love him regardless,” Bonnie assures him.

“But you are trying to bring him back,” Freddy flicks his ear. “That is why they are not trying like you to get to know me. You are going to decommission me.”

Bonnie pulls a face. Great going… Of course Freddy would have figured it out: it’s not like they were being discreet about their general dislike of him, even if Bonnie tried and believed otherwise.

Because he had grown to enjoy Pizza’s company. It was easy. He was a great listener, and he seemed to be gaining sentience with each passing moment. That was Bonnie’s fault, but still: he liked the guy.

In other circumstances, they would have been friends.

“No— well, yes, ” Bonnie sighs, exhaling through his voice box. “All of us were friends with him. He deserves to be alive just as much as all of us, and—” He’s not really sure where he’s going with that.

“And more than me,” Freddy finishes. “You want me to go easy, then.”

Bonnie stands deathly still, dipping his head in surrender. He wants to argue— no, of course not! We want you around too! We don’t want to decommission you… 

But what point would the lies serve? He figured it out. They were busted and now the only way to really bring Freddy back was through forceful actions against Pizza. And honestly, that made Bonnie feel worse, because maybe if he’d just asked in the beginning there would be a different outcome…

Freddy looks at him squarely, his near-silent systems hardly a shuffle over the atrium ambience. “Alright.”

“What?” Bonnie looks up sharply. “Huh?”

“You have shown me unmistakable kindness,” Freddy explains. “And he meant a lot to you. If removing me from the equation would bring him back, I will do it.”

Bonnie feels heartbreak at his words, and can’t find a proper response. “You— you would?” He manages, his systems nearly overheating.

“I would,” Freddy smiles. “Because if someone was waiting for me as you are waiting for him, I would hope whoever was in my position would do the same. It would be an honor to make you happy.”

“You— you don’t—” Bonnie’s voice box stutters out. He’d done it, in some twisted sort of way. Somehow, he’d convinced Pizza he didn’t matter as much, or maybe that it was a noble sacrifice, but he’d done it, and it should be both cause of celebration and grieving.

Instead, Bonnie accepts it. Nothing could change Pizza’s mind, and if it was his decision, then…

“We both know I have to do this,” Freddy corrects, “Willingly or not. It is okay, Bonnie. This is something I want to do.”

“Okay,” Bonnie says, numbly. “Okay, I— I don’t know what to say. Thank you, for one, but… that feels too little.”

“It is alright,” the bear starts the walk back towards Rockstar Row. “I understand. If love is selfless, then I would like to be in love, too.”

If he could cry, Bonnie would probably be bawling. Never had someone been so selfless for him before: it reminds him of himself, spending his time with the young gator next door, spending every waking moment of his life trotting after Freddy.

But, of course, he should have expected this. In every version of Freddy, he’d do the same. It’s just his programming, he reasons, but he knows it's deeper than that. 

Finally, as the initial wave of shock crashes away, he feels guilt. He’s no better than the force that took his life. He can make it sound as ethical as possible, but it wouldn’t change the fact he’s taking someone's life just to bring Freddy back.

And his Freddy would be devastated to learn the trade they made for his second chance.

Bonnie desperately swallows down his remorse as Freddy casts him another kind and genuine smile. Perhaps it was cruel to have waited this long: the answer likely wouldn’t have changed.

Now, the clone of the bear had a taste of the real world, a desire that would never be quelled: love he’d never give.

That was cruel.

Exhaling loudly, Bonnie turns to observe the animatronic beside him. His confident gait, and rolled back shoulders were indicative of his personality chip. Who knows who he would have become if he was allowed to continue— would he turn out the same, with Bonnie at his side? 

Perhaps Gregory would have altered his personality, too.

There’s a part of Bonnie that believes every Freddy would be divinely unique, and that every one of them would be deserving of compassion. 

Yet, nothing could beat the one he’d fallen in love with.

Nothing could ever replace the liberating feeling he’d felt when an under-paid cashier slipped a few words about love — “I have a date with my boyfriend tonight, and of course, I love him, but he knows I hate Italian!”

Bonnie asked; “ How do you know you love him?” 

The cashier donned a broad smile and answered honestly. Bonnie watched her face as it morphed into glee, her cheeks dusted pink. She explained butterflies. 

But, most of all, she explained it wasn’t easy. That sometimes compromises had to be made— that she would eat Italian if that meant her boyfriend could be proud of the date he planned for her.

Bonnie hung off each word, his ears pointed straight up. When he saw Freddy that evening, he knew it was true: he was the first animatronic to have fallen in love. His wires seized, and Freddy laughed at him as he offered to check Bonnie’s systems for a malfunction.

And that was that.

Now, he had one more compromise to make— one he’s not sure he’ll ever tell Freddy that he made.

He hardly keeps his composure as they enter Freddy’s greenroom; the walk having taken quite a while with Bonnie’s stuttering machinery, and Bonnie hurries to gather the rest of the band to share the good news. “I’ll be back with the others,” he tells him on the way out.

First, he practically throws himself into Roxy’s room. He intends to only inform the wolf, but Chica was sprawled out on the couch, casually scarfing a slice of pizza down. She’s in the middle of a story when Bonnie bursts in, and she abruptly stops with an amused expression.

“Bonnie, get the hell out of my room,” Roxy grumbles, turning away from her mirror. She puts her paws on the desk, leaning back on it, and scowling. “Look, I know you’re not Monty or Freddy, but girl-talk still doesn’t apply to you.”

The rabbit scoffs. “For the record, I can gossip just as well as you two. Since when was tea-time for girls only?”

“Since—” Chica starts to answer, just as Gregory walks into the room from the service hallway. He’s carrying another box of pizza and likely used the utility tunnels to smuggle it back to Chica. 

Bonnie raises an eyebrow. 

Gregory glances at each animatronic skeptically. “Am I interrupting something?”

“You are a dirty liar, Roxanne,” Bonnie sighs. Then, remembering the reason he’d even barged in in the first place, he perks up. “Now, look, you distracted me!”

“Idiot,” Roxy retorts.

Chica gets up, her expression kind. “What were you going to tell us?”

With three sets of eyes watching him hopefully, he grins, and says, “Freddy’s coming back.”

“What?” Roxy blurts at the same time as Gregory goes, “Fuck yeah!”

Chica squeals and hugs Bonnie tightly, inviting the other two into the hug too. Roxy doesn’t appear to want to be a part of it, but Gregory tugs her hand forward.

“I don’t understand,” Roxy mumbles against them, “What did you do?”

“Yeah, how?” Chica lets them go, but she continues to excitedly fidget.

Bonnie throws a thumb over his shoulder. “Freddy volunteered to do the switch. He’s in his greenroom now, if you want to talk about it.”

“We should,” Chica says quickly before Roxy can reply. The wolf looks neutral about the entire ordeal, but a small glance at Gregory’s beaming expression makes her lighten up.

The bunny takes a step back. “I’ll see you all there, then.”

A quick nod from the group makes Bonnie step outside, and he feels his shoulders sink the moment he stands in Rockstar Row.

Everything was going to work out. He was going to get Freddy back, and he could move on and forget all of this. They’d all be back together again.

Yet… he has a sinking feeling that their troubles aren't over.

He steals a glance at Monty’s green room, and the feeling in his circuits plummet. Yes: the virus was still around… Which meant everything that happened to him; to Gregory, could happen again. And he felt powerless against it.

Bonnie pads towards the door and hesitantly knocks on the door before walking in. It was nearly completely dark, as Monty preferred to keep the lights off, whether or not his room was a total mess.

Yet, to his surprise, Bonnie finds the space entirely clean. His vision switches to night-mode, the room adopts another layer of green hues in his eyes. It’s a bit staticky, and there's a few errors that overrun the program, but it was at least functional.

Monty glances up from his arcade machine, his snout poised. “What do you want, bunny?”

Bonnie goes to answer at the same moment he comically slips on a bowling ball. He scrambles forward, fighting for his balance, prepared to go careening into the other animatronic.

The gator simply holds out a hand, and catches Bonnie with a firm claw on his shoulder. With his free hand, he raises his glasses quizzically.

Both of them burst out laughing— Bonnie’s a little staticky, and Monty’s a deep hum, but both laughing nonetheless— and Bonnie straightens. “Oh, god. Thanks.”

“‘Course. Now, ‘ya come in here just’a make a fool of yourself?” Monty questions, crossing his arms.

“Oh, you know me,” Bonnie tisks. “Believe it or not, it’s kind of ser—” He looks back over his shoulder, eyes caught on the bowling balls. “Wait. You kept those?”

Monty follows his gaze. “Uh, yeah. We all did.”

Bonnie wanders back over to the two bowling balls, and he picks up one. He studies it, his twisted and gnarled whiskers twitching curiously. It was one of Monty’s custom bowling balls: purple with a scaly pattern on the sides. There were only ever two created, and the other one in this room was simply blue.

Just as he goes to turn it over in his palms, Bonnie’s memory betrays him. His vision flickers, and suddenly he’s in a cement room, pressed against a rock wall. He glances up just as a purple bowling ball comes descending down, crashing into his casting…

There's a gentle shake of his shoulders. Bonnie blinks rapidly, willing the memory away, and turns to face Monty. The gator takes the bowling ball from his paws, and effectively places it away and out of sight. “Bonnie? Hey, dude.”

Bonnie offers a sheepish grin. “Hey, what’d I miss?”

“Look, man,” Monty says, his gaze still skirting around Bonnie’s damages, “If you’re still scared of me, I get it.”

“I’m not!” Bonnie protests. “I swear to you, I am not scared of you. I think my programming is just acting up.”

“It’s probably a danger response,” Monty draws away, flipping his glasses down. “Remember when Chica slipped on a banana peel, and now she can’t be ‘round ‘em?”

Bonnie holds back a chuckle in favor of frowning. “I can be around you.”

“I know you think that, but maybe you need some time to process, dude.” Monty sounds regretful. “It’s been a lot. Nearly dyin’, losing Freddy, meeting Gregory… Your systems are out-of-date. ‘Ya don’t gotta pretend to be okay ‘bout it all.”

For once, the bunny dons a look of confusion. “I’m not pretending about shit.”

“So you’re not tryna to trick everyone into thinkin’ you’re okay?” Monty accuses. “I know what you’re doin’. You’re making everyone focus on Gregory and Freddy so that they get the attention they need right now. Bonnie: you can be hurting. ”

Bonnie winces.

“If ‘ya let people see where you’re breakin’—” Monty thrusts a single claw towards the gaping crater in Bonnie’s chest, “—you’re afraid you’ll be underestimated. Right?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re gonna drive yourself back to the grave if you keep all this up.” Monty’s warning rings painfully in Bonnie’s ears, and he lowers his muzzle with a small nod. “You can take a break, Bon.”

“I will,” he assures him, “we’re just so close.” Monty raises an eyebrow. “Don’t give me that look!” His ears perk up.

Monty gives him a hard stare.

“No, seriously! We’ve got Freddy back. That’s what I was gonna tell you. Gregory has the chip, and uh, Pizza, agreed to it.”

“He agreed to it?” Monty asks in awe. “Damn. Guess all Freddy’s are selfless as shit.”

“You’re telling me.”

Monty hesitates for a moment. “I’m happy for you. For all of us, seriously. But please keep what I said in mind… Freddy coming back doesn’t change much. You’ve still got shit to handle.”

“I know, dude, I know,” Bonnie confirms. “Thank you. We’re going to go do it now, I think.”

“I hope it’s everything you’ve dreamed of,” Monty says, an uncharacteristic grin on his face. “Lord knows ‘ya deserve it.”

Chapter Text

When Bonnie returns, the room drops its eerie silence in favor of catching the rabbit’s attention.

Of course, he notices the apprehension surrounding each animatronic, likely feeling the same way he was: that there just weren’t enough words to commend Pizza for his decision.

Bonnie swivels to peer at each of them, and it’s only Gregory who meets his gaze. He bears a timid smile.

“Well,” Bonnie finally says, watching heads snap his way. “I guess we should talk about it.”

“Yeah,” Roxy agrees, somewhat distantly. “Is there a but for this?”

Freddy tilts his head. “No. I do not want anything in return.”

Bonnie fights to keep the grief from creeping in again. “Are you sure?”

What could we possibly offer him? Another chance? Another body? With this company, he’ll be lucky to get his own file…

The bear hums. “I am positive.”

Chica and Roxy share a glance, and the wolf shrugs. “‘Kay, cool. I don’t see why we should wait any longer…”

“Freddy and I can go clear out parts and service, as long as Don is there,” Chica offers. “We probably need someone to keep surveillance outside, though…”

“I can do that,” Bonnie replies, thinking of the floor bots. 

“Same.” Roxy stands up, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Gregory can tag along with me until the coast is clear.”

“Actually,” Gregory interrupts, “while we wait, I might go tell Sun… He didn’t know about the plan.”

He says plan gingerly, sparing a look at Freddy. The bear just listens, and Bonnie feels his endo physically tearing, despite the fact it remained rooted in place.

Roxy appears hesitant. “Maybe one of us should go with you.”

“Nah,” Gregory refutes. “I’ll be quick. And, hey, no one should be around the daycare. I’ll just let him know and be on my way.”

Bonnie twitches his ear. He’s not really the biggest fan of that plan, but the kid seemed pretty dead set on it. “Okay. Make it quick.”

Chica pads over to Freddy’s side. “Well, we should be going…”

“We should,” Freddy turns to the door, gesturing ahead for the chicken. “After you.”

She opens her beak in response, but shuts it promptly. She opts to leave instead, and Freddy tails her closely into the maintenance elevators.

Gregory heads towards the Rockstar Row door. “I’ll meet you guys in parts and service, then,” he says. “Maybe message Sun when it’s clear?”

Roxy’s tail sways. “We will. Well, I will. Bonnie’s still offline,” she jests.

Bonnie chuckles. “Not that I’m complaining. You guys annoy me enough— god forbid you’re in my head all the time!”

“Just wait until he starts getting love letters from Freddy again,” Roxy snorts. “Then we’ll see how annoying it is.”

Gregory giggles, and waves as he pushes past them. Bonnie watches him go.

“I don’t think that he wants Sun to know that bad, ” Roxy observes neutrally.

Bonnie sighs. “It’s not really our business, is it?”

“I think it is.”

“You know he’s going home after this, right?” Bonnie reminds her.

Roxy flashes a single fang. “‘Course. Do you? ”

He carefully shrugs. “He’d be safer there… And besides, he said there's no place he’d rather be than home, ” he recalls.

The wolf just stares at him, staying quiet.

“Let’s head that way,” Bonnie says, adverting his attention to the maintenance elevators.

“Yeah,” Roxy murmurs. “Let’s.”

—

He’s not sure why he was so insistent on it. 

Honestly, he’s still confused, and if not for his ego preventing him from doubling back, he would have gone to reinstall Freddy by now.

But, no, he just had to insist on telling Sun, who, frankly, would not care which Freddy was present.

Maybe it had to do with the conversation he’d had with him while awaiting the others, after Bonnie had been found. 

“ So, do you have any siblings?”

“No, not that I know of.”

“That’s a silly thing to forget! How about animals? Any dogs? Cats?”

“No. Don’t have a place for one.” 

“A favorite meal?”

“Uh, anything, I guess…”

A careful, quiet dismantling of the secret he’d withheld from every animatronic. He remembers feeling dread with each question, but a significant weight off his back. It was nice to share what he felt he couldn’t.

Sun didn’t question him after that, instead redirecting his attention to some glitter-glue and googly-eyes he had obtained. Asking, do you want to make some crafts while we wait? 

He only had time to draw a frail, glittery stick-figure of himself. It was pink and the glue was smeared on the left arm. It was alone.

Gregory carefully creeps back down the slide, being far more cautious this time around. He stirs the ball pit as he slips into it, and then wades out to the side. Once there, he leans against the castle, preparing to say, “S—”

Voices meet his ears the moment he utters a breath, and he ducks into the castle. He squints out at the figures ahead, watching a technician investigate the back of Sun’s head.

“Are you sure about this?” Sun asks, clearly nervous.

“If we want to reopen Wednesday, then we need all animatronics up to standard,” the worker replies. “Can’t have a daycare without a nap-time caretaker!”

“I can do it!” Sun insists. “He doesn’t need to…”

Scoffing, she takes out a screwdriver from her toolkit. “You like Moon. What’s the hold-up?”

Gregory blinks in shock. Of course they would reinstall Moon…! 

He scrambles to his feet and creeps around the outskirts of the play structures. He’s aiming for the front doors, and he makes it there the moment he hears; “Alright, now we need to test it!”

No, he thinks in a panic, slipping out the doors. Oh god, no. 

Gregory doesn’t want to be around when the lights shut off.

Moon is back, and he was the scariest one Gregory had encountered. He hunted him every hour, kidnapped Freddy on Vanny’s— or was that Vanessa’s— behalf. 

The rest of the animatronics were fine. They were placed into safe mode and repaired. They were not who they had been.

But Moon had simply been deactivated; Sun did not require the maintenance the others did. And if Sun was nervous about Moon’s return…

Maybe he was overthinking it. 

He continues his jog to the main stage in a mere attempt to outrun the lights.

Although, he realizes there’s nowhere to be when the lights shut off. He’s just about made it to the atrium when he realizes that big mistake.

The area around him plummets into darkness. “Really,” he muses aloud, “we couldn’t have just shut off the daycare lights ?”

He reaches for his flashlight, coming up short. “Even better!”

Gregory takes a deep breath, and steps forward. He can hardly see. His eyes won’t adjust, and the neon from the inner area around the stage wasn’t really helping.  

His Fazwatch had been pretty useless ever since Freddy was replaced. Even if he tried to ping the bear of his location, it wouldn’t even work. He’d slyly tested it earlier, and when Pizza made no move to inquire about the signal, Gregory assumed he never received it.

It would have been extremely useful to have an animatronic on call right now, though…

He squints ahead for the next charging station, already beelining towards it before he can even locate it.

Then, in a jolt of terror, he pats his pockets again. There's a chill that sweeps across the back of his neck. Reaching into his right pants pocket, he pulls out Freddy’s box. Carefully, he peeks into it, ensuring the chip was still there. The tiny piece of metal was right where he left it, and he exhales in relief. There was a constant fear that stuck with him while he had the box, and he was afraid he’d suddenly come up empty with it. Honestly, he surprised himself with his responsibility. 

Gregory goes to put it back just as a rickety, metal clanking erupts from behind him. He freezes in pure fear, because he can recognize that terrible noise. In his hesitation, he’d completely forgotten about who could be in pursuit…

Because, of course, he had to have escaped maintenance… the worker was probably out-for-the-count. 

At once, Moon surges forward, grabbing for Gregory’s arms. A mere step forward is all he can manage before he feels Moon’s fingers pinch into Gregory’s skin, leaving behind crescent-shaped divots.

In his panic, Gregory fumbles the box, and it falls to the ground. He screams, and lunges for it, but Moon tugs him back. 

“No!” Gregory shrieks. “Let me go!”

He kicks out to get away, lashing in Moon’s tightening hold. “ No! ” Gregory twists, managing to free a hand. However, Moon switches his hold, and soon he has a hand on Gregory’s face and the other around his midsection, pulling him backwards into the dark shadows of the atrium.

The box! Gregory wails, his screams muffled by the tainted animatronic. He grabs for the hand in front of his mouth, attempting to rip it away, but he lacks the strength to do so. His adrenaline is zapped from his body second by second, and his limbs ache from effort.

“Roxy!” He manages to get out. “ Bonnie! Chica! Monty!”

Moon cackles, finally speaking. “You’ve been a naughty, naughty boy…”

“Let me—” Gregory chokes on his words and pain flares up in a rush as Moon digs his digits into Gregory’s ribs. “ Stop, ” he pleads weakly, tears flowing from the corners of his eyes. “ HELP!”