Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Steve Raglan sat in his office with pride. Michael Schmidt just called him back and accepted the job. He could barely contain his excitement as he thought of the grand show he would get to perform.

Interrupting his fantasy, a voice emits from the intercom on his desk. It was Helen, the lady at the front desk. “Mr. Raglan, there are some folks here to see you. They're saying something about an investigation.”

An investigation. He couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia, the memory of the exhilaration from his wonderful performance back in the eighties.

But his mind began to wonder further back, to his teen years. He remembered that old van, the friends, the “ghouls,” and… Sc-

His thoughts were interrupted, “Mr. Raglan?”

He hurriedly reached his hand to the talk button on the intercom, “Yes! Uh- Send them in.” It might be fun to play an old role again.

After a few moments the door to his office opened. He stood to shake the hands of whoever these investigators might be. “Hi-”

His eyes reached the man who opened the door, and he halted in place. He recognized him instantly. His blonde hair had darkened and he was visibly aged, but it was still him as clear as day. He even dressed the same.

“Shaggy?!” The man announced with wonder. “Oh my god! Guys, look who it is!”

The man moved further into his office and to his side. Now, there were two instantly recognizable women in the doorway. The shorter of the two wore an orange sweater and large square glasses, her brown hair cut in a chin length bob. The other wore a purple dress with a green scarf, her ginger hair was lightly streaked with grey. 

They both entered the room and stared for a moment in silent excitement and awe. 

Steve looked around the now crowded room in shock for a few moments, before saying something he hadn't in years.“... Zoinks.”

Chapter Text

Still shocked, Steve stuttered. “Uh- I-…” He takes a pause to, once everyone has made their way in his office, close the door behind them. He sits back behind his desk and thinks for a few moments, looking at them blankly. 

They all stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do. The last time they saw him was at that carnival, after the accident, when he left. Was he even still him?

“Sorry,” he said suddenly. “It's just… It's been so long.” He looked at them a little longer, almost in awe, “And you haven't changed a bit.” He chuckles to himself. “Come! Sit!” He gestured exaggeratedly for them to come sit.

They all let go of a breath they didn't realize they were holding and sat in their chairs

Daphne was the first to speak. “How have you been?” Her voice had a hint of concern in it.

“Good. I'm doing good.” He said genuinely, “How about you guys? Seems like you're still running Mystery Incorporated. How's that going?”

“Its going well,” Velma starts, "That's actually what brings us here, Shaggy.”

“Oh- uh, it's Steve, these days. Steve Raglan.” He corrected, looking at his nameplate on his desk.

“Oh… sorry, ‘Steve .’ I didn't realize.” She apologized.

“Oh, no worries. Shaggy is fine, just- uh, not in front of people…” He assured them. “But, as you were saying, what brings you here? Some mystery, I’m guessing?” He asked, amused.

“Something like that,” Fred started.

“We heard about a bunch of disappearances going on in this town.” Daphne explained.

“Oh… no masked ghouls this time?” He asked, half-joking.

“Y’know, we see less and less of those types every year,” Fred says. “Just not as popular these days.”

“Really?” Steve asked with genuine surprise. “I’m shocked. I mean, I was always a big scaredy cat about it but, looking back, I have to respect their showmanship.” He shakes his head.

“What brings you here though?” He asked, getting the conversation back on track.

Velma pulls a folder from Daphne's purse and hands it across the desk. “Well, from what we can tell, they all disappeared within the week after coming here to get a job…” Velma paused before continuing, “from you.”

Steve looks through the folder of familiar faces. “Huh…” He sits for a few moments in thought. “Hold on,” He sits the folder down, pulls open a desk drawer of files, and looks through them. “Hmm…”

Keeping his face below the desk, he says, “Well, I found a through line.” 

“It seems like everyone on your list are people that got security gigs at the same place.” He explains, sitting up. “The pay isn't great and the hours are worse so when I didn’t hear back from them, I figured they just gave up. That kinda thing happens sometimes.”

“What's the name of this place?” Fred asked.

“Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.” He answered. “It was huge in the eighties, with the kids, but it's been shut down for years. The owner, he’s kind of a sentimental guy, I guess. That's the only reason they haven't torn the place down… Just can't bring himself to let the place go yet. Heh.” He explains, faintly laughing to himself. He grabs a piece of scrap paper and a pen. “Here, I'll write the address down.” He scribbles down the address and hands it to Velma.

“Thank you.” She says taking the paper. “Do you have any idea who could be doing this?”

“Uhh, well, the place has had its problems with break ins, drunks and vagrants mostly.” He explains. “Not ideal, but not the type to do this. You might be able to look at old camera footage. The security system is… dated, but functional. Fair warning, the power can be… iffy, so you might not get anything to clear from it. There's also a new guard, just accepted the job, his shift starts at twelve. I'll tell him that you'll be there…” He thinks for a moment before saying, “Yeah, that's about it. The rest is up to you, I guess.”

The three stand up, thanking him as they do. “Is there any chance you might be joining us, like the old days,” Fred asked.

Steve shakes his head no. “I can't, I have work to do here.” He stands and walks over to the door, opening it for them to leave. “I hope you find what you're looking for.”

“Well, can we maybe hang out somewhere in town?” Daphne asks.

“Yeah, I'd love to catch up some more.” Velma says.

Steve thinks on it for a moment. “Sure,” he accepts. “Theres this place in town, Sparky’s Diner. The food is good, the service is a little chatty, but it's nice.” He hands them a business card from his pocket. “Call me and we'll set something up.”

Thankful, they all walk out of his office and start down the hall.

Steve closes the door behind them with a big smile on his face. Things just got much more interesting. What a performance it would be!

The gang walks to their colorful van. Once inside, they all look at each other, happy to have seen an old friend.

“What time is it?” Fred asks, as he starts the van.

“About eleven,” Daphne answers, looking at her watch.

“Well, gang, looks like we got a mystery to solve!” Fred announces, starting the drive to Freddy’s.

Chapter Text

“Just in time, gang!” Fred announced, pulling the Mystery Machine up in front of the dilapidated pizza chain. Pulling in across from them is a modest car with a somewhat disheveled looking man at the wheel.

Everyone exits their respective vehicles and meets in between them. “... The investigators?” The man asked after taking a beat to register the overtly colorful group. “I’m Mike… Mr. Raglan had said… something about some disappearances in the area…”

Mike was dripping in anxiety and exhaustion. He looked like he either needed more sleep or less, the gang wasn’t sure which.

“That’s us!” Fred said with pride, pointing to himself. “I’m Fred!” He introduced, shoving a hand out for Mike to shake.

Mike slowly takes his hand in his own and receives a hardy shake in return.

“Velma.” She introduced herself while adjusting her glasses.

“And I’m Daphne.” She started with a smile and a wave. Looking at the big sign on the front of the building, “So, this is Freddy’s, huh?” She asked. “Did you ever go when it was open?”

“Uh, no. I don’t think it was open then.” He answered plainly, if a little awkward. “Oh!” Mike startled, remembering something, “Here.” He said, handing a key to Daphne. “I was told to give you guys an extra key.” With that, he starts his way to the front door of the establishment.

Inside, they see a dark and dilapidated interior, aged and weathered with time. It holds a strange melancholy feeling within its walls, a sense of familiarity. The distant memory of family and fun can be faintly felt in the air.

They make their way through the darkened halls, finding the security office. Mike searches the wall with his eyes, finding the power switch, which he promptly flips. The lights throughout the building and the screens on the office desk flicker on, bringing some semblance of life back to the building.

At that, Fred claps his hands together and announces to the group, “Well, gang, let's split up and look for clues!”

“Daphne,” He gestures to her, “you stick to the main areas!”

“Sounds like a plan!” Daphne chirps.

“Velma,” He points to her, “look through the back rooms!”

“You got it!” Velma agreed.

“And I’ll stick with Mike!” Fred said, obliviously wrapping an arm around a noticeably uncomfortable Mike.

And with that, the gang splits up. The two walk out the office door, splitting off with Daphne marching down the hall and Velma walks to the door on the opposite wall and into the loading dock, leaving Mike and Fred in the office.

“Welp, let's look around!” Fred says excitedly.

He moves around the unfamiliar terrain of the office like he's lived there his whole life. It's like muscle memory from all his years co-running Mystery Inc. and it can be clearly seen that, no matter how long he does it, it's always as exciting as his first. 

Mike feels a faint sense of envy of the investigator's disposition, he couldn't help it. He always had trouble keeping a job, and here in front of him was what appeared to be the living embodiment of "If you love what you do, then you never work a day in your life.” Little did Mike know.

Shaking off these feelings, he elects to help him look through the office. It'd be best to get it done quickly.

Seeing Fred looking by the monitors, he heads to the lockers at the back of the room. Seeing it shot a faint chill down the back of his neck. It reminded him of high school. He regretted a lot from back then.

Mike opened the locker, closing it almost instantly with a fearful gasp at what he saw. In the locker was a creepy plastic figure of a boy, it held a sign reading “Balloons!” in one hand and a balloon in the other. Its mouth was warped into a smile and filled with teeth that didn't quite fit right.

“You good?” Fred asked.

“Uh- Yeah… It's nothing.” Mike responded, annoyed at his own nerves. He opened the locker again, only to be stared back at by the placid eyes of the balloon boy. Still creeped out by the thing, he turned it to face away from himself. 

Having dealt with the problem, only then did he notice the security vest just below it. He slips on the vest, better to look the part. 

“Hey, Mike!” Fred spoke.

Turning to him, Mike saw Fred kneeling by the box TV on a cart, holding up a VHS tape with his name written on it.

“You’ve got mail!” Fred joked.

Mike grabbed the office chair and moved it in front of the TV before sitting down, curious of the tape's contents.

Fred slipped it in the VCR and it began to play.

It shows an alive and thriving version of the now run down pizzeria, filled with families laughing in the background. Text flies on screen reading “FREDDY’S SECURITY TRAINING.” An overly cheery woman in what can be assumed to be a Fazbear uniform, slid on screen as the title faded.

Something about the woman's wide smile and eerily hollow eyes creeped Mike out. It was familiar, he'd worked enough customer service to know that face, but it still didn't feel right, those eyes staring into his soul from inside the screen. It gave him chills.

Fred on the other hand, seemed very happy, bobbing his head to the cheesy 80s music with a cheesy grin on his face.

“Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, a magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life.” The woman spoke lines Mike figured she must've been made to rehearse a thousand times over.

Mike sunk back into his chair, almost trying to escape the intense false positivity.

“If you're watching this video, it means you’ve been selected as Freddy’s newest security guard. Congratulations! We're going to have so much fun together!” She continued in that same unchanging voice. Mike wasn't sure if he'd seen her blink even once.

Fred genuinely gave Mike a little clap when the women congratulated him.

Lucky me… Mike thought sarcastically.

The screen transitioned to show the arcade, full of children playing on the machines. The woman, walking back on screen, continues. “The genius who created Fazbear Entertainment opened Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria to indulge in his three greatest passions: Food, Family-Friendly Fun, and Cutting-Edge Animatronic Technology.” Mike chuckled to himself at the list.

Fred’s smile softened slightly when, like something in that list reminded him of something or someone.

The screen cuts to what looks to be a backroom or workshop of some sort. A man works on what appears to be some kind of metal skeleton in the background. The woman, still in the foreground, continues, “State-of-the-art robotic engineering enables our characters to interact with guests in truly life-like fashion, while cleverly concealed rechargeable lithium cells give them limited range to roam.” 

They both sat up at this, curious. Fred thought it could be a lead in the investigation, while Mike was just very creeped out at the idea.

The screen cut to the woman standing to the side of the stage. “Let’s introduce you to the stars of the show.” She then presses a big red button near the stage labeled “SHOWTIME.”

At that instant, the screen is covered in glitches and static and degradation more than it already was. You could just barely make out three animatronic figures on a stage. The audio was distorted but Fred could've sworn that he could just barely hear what sounded like a dog barking. Mike hunched forward to slap the side of the TV, hoping it would fix the issue. 

After a moment, clarity returned to the tape, showing the woman again. She laughed at the presumably merry band, “Adorable, aren't they?”

They both sat back, confusion and concern filling their minds, and they listened further. “Protecting these cuddly critters,  and the proprietary technology that brings them to life, is now your sacred duty. Keep them safe, and help ensure that Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria is here to delight, dazzle and entertain F04 y3Ar$ #0 Co-” The distortion takes over the tape once again. The static crackles loudly like the rumbling of a victorious beast. The tape was over.

They both sat in silence for a moment before Mike looked over to Fred, who wore a strangely pensive and melancholic expression, and quietly said “Well…”

Fred nods back. “Yeah…” He says curiously.

Another moment passes before Mike leans forward to turn off the TV.

The room is quiet.

Chapter Text

Daphne, being careful not to step on any of the glass on the floor, walks to the end of the hallway to the office and looks out at the main party area. The power may have been returned to the building, but it was still hard to see. Luckily, she and the rest of the gang had been doing this long enough that they always kept a flashlight on hand.

She takes her light from her handbag, clicking it on, and venturing out into the dilapidated party room.

Just to her left is a counter with a neon sign that reads “Prizes” above it. It's lined with plushies, goofy character masks, and other prizes like you'd find in an arcade.

One prize catches her eye, a small plushy keychain of some kind of bird girl. She picks it up to examine further. It's covered in dust but is in surprisingly good shape otherwise. Cute, She thinks as she places it in her purse, figuring it wouldn't be missed.

A bit further along the wall, she finds a menu sign above a window to what looks to be the kitchen, and just a little further she finds another neon sign above two doors that reads “Restrooms.”

Looking out to the rest of the room, she finds plenty of tables where patrons used to sit and eat. Booths sit on the outer layer of the tables and have stained glass designs of the same characters she saw prizes of.

Walking through the room, she sees a wall covered in children's drawings. Some are of the same animal characters that cover the establishment, some are of stick figures celebrating, and some are of food. But one sticks out amongst the rest. In the center of the wall is a drawing of a yellow figure with bunny ears holding the hands of five children.

She leans in closer, trying to get a closer look. Something about it feels so familiar. She moves her hand to it, about to take it down, before she's startled by the sound of crushing glass under someone's feet.

Turning to see who's there, she sees Mike in the doorway.

She lets out a sigh of relief. “Jeepers! You gave me a real fright for a second there, Mike,” she laughs off the worry she felt earlier.

“Oh- uhh, sorry…” Mike awkwardly apologizes. “I figured I should look around the place if I’m gonna be working here.”

“Plus, that blonde guy started talking about the traps he could set up in the office.” He explained, ending in an upward inflection like he was asking a question. "Didn't think that was something I wanted to stick around for.”

“That sounds like Fred,” Daphne laughs. “You might wanna be careful when you head back in there.”

“Right…” Mike responds, walking closer. “So, seems like you've been doing this investigator stuff for a while.”

“Oh, yeah,” Daphne confirms. “We started up back in the sixties, all five of us.” She had this reminiscent expression.

“Five?” Mike wondered.

Her eyes widen slightly, realizing what she's said. “Oh, yeah… ha…” She awkwardly chuckled, looking away shyly, thinking. “That's how things started…” she stated, more to herself than Mike.

She stood there for a moment, a mix of melancholy and nostalgia painted on her face. Before Mike can decide if he should try to work up the courage to say something, she clapped her hands suddenly to bring herself back to reality. “Right!” She says, looking back at Mike, “We should keep investigating.” She turns around, gesturing for him to follow.

Mike shakes off the concern he was starting to feel. It wasn't any of his business after all, he was just here to get paid. “Yeah,” he muttered, following behind her.

They find themselves at the entrance of the arcade, shining their flashlights into the graveyard of childhood joy. The arcade machines stood silently in place, like rows of head stones.

Stepping further within, Daphne can see a glimpse of a ball pit in the back of the room. It towers in the distance like a mausoleum, nets lining three of the pit’s four walls. After all her years working with Fred, she knew how to spot an opportunity for a trap. She'd have to point it out to Fred later.

Mike stands a few steps back, still at the entrance. He waves his light about, trying to look busy and investigatory, but not really knowing how to help.

Suddenly, a hollow clanging is heard behind them. They both whip their lights towards the noise, only to see the dusty red curtain of the stage.

Like a moth to flame, Daphne’s instincts quickly brought her to the stairs of the stage, with Mike tentatively following behind her.

Daphne peaked past the edge of the curtain, shining her light inside, only to see three animatronic characters, a blue rabbit with a guitar, a bear with a top hat and bow tie, and that same bird girl thing as on the keychain she pocketed. They all stare forward, their painted eyes locked with the curtains. 

Mike, only now catching up to her, flinched as he saw the thing over her shoulder. Daphne stifled a laugh. She'd gotten so used to creepy mascot types that it didn't fully register just how snugly they rested in the uncanny valley.

“Sorry,” She apologized, looking back at Mike. “You alright?”

Mike was a little annoyed and embarrassed, but didn't really show it. He was good at that, hiding how he felt. He usually didn’t realize he was doing it. He might as well put it on his resume. It was a real skill of his, and one that came in handy in the workplace. “Fine. I'm fine.” Mike mumbled, backing away.

She didn't think that “fine” is how anyone would describe Mike. He might be good at hiding himself, but it was harder to hide the fact that he was hiding.

She was about to say something but he had already started to wander away. “I’ll check over there,” he said, heading in the direction of the other smaller stage.

She watched him for a moment, thinking, before turning back and stepping through the curtain and onto the stage. She shined her light around the stage, searching for whatever made that noise.

Finally, the torches beam landed at the feet of the animatronic bird. Laying there was a prop cupcake, mouth agape. It must have fallen from the plate in the bird girl's hand somehow.

Daphne kneeled down to pick up the cupcake, examining it. The cupcake had a pink top half to mimic frosting, a brown bottom half to mimic the wrapper, two buck teeth, large plastic eyes with orange irises, and a blue and white striped false candle with a plastic flame. “Cute,” she said to herself.

She stands up, lifting the cupcake back onto the plate. She adjusts it slightly, making sure it is placed correctly in the hopes it doesn't fall again. “There you go,” she says with a small grin.

She looks up to the bird girl, only to find a pair of large plastic eyes staring down on her. The painted irises meet her own.

Was she looking down before? She wondered, Wasn’t she just staring forward like the others? She shook her head, trying to convince herself she just hadn't noticed where the eyes were pointed. 

She turned to exit the stage, figuring she should see if Mike found anything.

Mike stood at the base of a much smaller stage, a sign that reads “SORRY! OUT OF ORDER” in front of it.

Peering past the curtain, he sees a tall and lanky machine, tattered red fabric semi-covering the visible machinery. A sharp pirate hook sits on the end of its right arm, and an eyepatch rests over top of the eye on the same side. The bottom jaw of the large fox-like head hung open, showing off the pointed teeth of the mascot head and the second inner jaw of its mechanical skeleton.

Mike thought the thing was creepy and unsettling to look at, but he felt some sense of remorse looking at it. The poor, broken fox, sequestered away from the others and hidden behind an apologetic sign. He didn't fit in with the three in the main crew.

A light shines on him suddenly, interrupting his thoughts, and he turns to see Daphne walking toward him and pointing her flashlight to him. “Find anything?” She asks.

“Oh- uh, no…” He answers, “Just a pirate.” He gestures his light over the dilapidated machine.

“Oh, poor thing,” She looks at the animatronic with far more outward sympathy than Mike.

“Yeah…” He mumbles and, after a short lull in the conversation, he asks, “Did you find out what fell?”

“Oh, yeah, it was this cute little cupcake prop the bird girl has.” She answers.

Mike nods, and before he can say anything, the sound of glass crunching emits from the hall to the security office. They both turn, only to see Fred leaning out of the doorway with a big goofy smile on his face. “Hey!” He says excitedly, jogging over to them.

“Look what I found!” He says, excitedly holding up a plushy of the titular bear. “Isn’t he cute? Found him in one of the lockers.”

“Oh, look at him!” Daphne says. She pokes it on the nose, saying, “Boop!” In response, a high pitched honk can be heard from the plush toy.

“Look what I found,” she says, pulling the China keychain from her purse and showing it off.

They jostle their respective characters in front of the others like two kids playing with their toys.

Mike, awkwardly standing on the side, watches the two for a few moments. “Uh… Are you done in the office? If so…” He asks, taking a step back and gesturing vaguely in the direction of the office.

“Hm?” Fred looks up from their toys, “Oh! Yeah,” he answers with a smile.

With that, Mike nods and starts making his way to the office hallway. At the doorway, he looks back to see Daphne leading Fred to the arcade area, before continuing down the hall.

He couldn't help but still think about that fox.

He didn't fit.