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Returning to Fazer Blast, Gregory couldn’t help but feel like something was different.
Hours ago, when he’d first ventured in, the air sort of buzzed with energy. The music, the lights, the warmth and comfort of the attraction based off of the only animatronic he didn’t hate (though that didn’t mean Freddy was his favorite, no way), it was all so much more welcoming.
The air was colder now. The music had stopped playing, and the neon lights and signs were dim or shut down, some lightbulbs flickering ominously near the staff hallway. Gregory chewed his lower lip, steering clear of that side of the lobby.
Even the S.T.A.F.F. were mysteriously gone. The security bots had vanished from the lobby downstairs, the Party Pass guy had rolled away somewhere... and none of the Glamrocks had been around as he and Freddy headed back through the atrium.
It was all just... weird. How had things changed so quickly? The boy almost wanted to believe it was a power issue- the Pizzaplex had so many nooks and crannies where power was running that if it went out here, it made sense. That made sense, it was normal, it shouldn’t have been scary.
It’s not scary, Gregory told himself sternly, fingers tight around his flashlight. It’s fine. Freddy’s right here, anyways. For confirmation, he glanced up, and his guardian offered a reassuring smile when he noticed the boy was looking, one large hand resting on his shoulder.
Freddy had been weirdly quiet since they’d arrived, too. Maybe he was thinking the same thing as Gregory, that something was weirdly off about his attraction. But if he was, he didn’t say anything... and if he wasn’t saying anything, it was fine. This was fine.
His hands were shaking as his guardian led him through the back door and out into the arena- it was dark in here, too, horribly, painfully dark and he reached out for Freddy’s hand, for guidance, for protection-
-everything suddenly shifted, and Gregory blinked and found himself standing in the center of the arena, which was now lit up with dozens of neon walls, all overwhelming purples and greens, with shadowy, ominous corners where the light didn’t reach. He stumbled, grabbing Freddy’s arm- he was up ahead now, eyes trained on the platform above them, reaching out to carefully push the boy behind him.
And it all felt so familiar, but he couldn’t tell why. He peeked out from behind the animatronic and froze, staring down the army of S.T.A.F.F. that had manifested across the ramp, looming over them, a row of purple eyes glowing in the dim maze.
Freddy stepped forward into the light, eyes narrowed, clearly prepared to fight them off. He looked up- up over the walls, over the arena, and there was the secret room. The rabbit lady waved down at them. He could hear her giggling from here, sending a spike of pain through his head and a shiver down his spine.
“Disassemble Freddy,” Vanny ordered, pressing a button, and Gregory watched her disappear from view as the bots moved forward, soulless eyes and jagged hands reaching for him, for Freddy-
“Go, Gregory!” he heard, in what sounded like Freddy’s voice- horrified and scared, all wrong, all wrong, and he ran. Gregory tripped down the ramp, foot catching on the uneven plastic floor, and he fell-
-catching himself on his hands and knees, he pushed himself up in front of a door, a door, the door- why did he remember this door? It opened now when he pushed it, and his head buzzed and vision blurred with red fuzz and Gregory booked it into the employee halls, swaying and running into ways, barely managing to get one foot in front of the other. It was just... deja vu, it was fine, normal, even. Deja vu just happened sometimes...
What didn’t just happen was the screaming. And the screaming was still going, agonized sounds from a mechanical voicebox that he recognized, he recognized it and he knew what was happening-
The killer laughed, the sound near his ear, too close, around a corner. Gregory moved then, through the door, and then it was up and up and up the spiral stairs, trembling with the adrenaline of the run, confused and frightened because what was even happening?
He sprinted down the catwalk over Fazer Blast, not daring to check over his shoulder as he slipped into Vanny’s secret room. There was an arcade machine, familiar to him, more familiar than anything else about this. He reached for it.
But there was a button on the desk at the other end of the room, and when he looked over, something made him reach for that instead. TURN THEM AGAINST VANNY.
He didn’t know what it would do. Gregory tried to turn, to look back at the arcade game. It wasn’t switched on… he was meant to play it, wasn’t he? He didn’t know why, didn’t understand why it was quite so important. Everything was too cold, too hot, too confusing, his head was throbbing and he just wanted to end this nightmare, end her-
His hands closed around the button, and the door slammed open behind him.
It felt like he was turning in slow-motion. Vanny stepped into the room, giggling maniacally, reaching for him, her knife gleaming in the dim light- he fell back against the wall, cornered, trapped, trapped, trapped. Tears burned in his eyes as he watched the rabbit lady approach, and this was it, this was it for him, wasn’t it?
Gregory blinked, and a few bots had rolled into the room after Vanny, purple-eyed and soulless, following her orders blindly. The button in his hand… she’d used it to control them…
He pressed it, gasping, words tumbling from his lips before he could think about them. “D- disassemble Vanny!”
The killer froze. The S.T.A.F.F. turned to her, wheels squeaking on the filthy tile. “No,” she whispered, voice muffled by the mask, “no, no, no-”
She wasn’t focused on him anymore, and he nearly dropped the button as he slipped away back to the doorway, out of reach, cringing back against the opposite wall when the metal door didn’t open, open, already, why won’t you open?
Vanny’s pleas suddenly turned into screams. Gregory glanced back, and regretted it.
The S.T.A.F.F. had shoved her to the ground, and they’d started clawing at her, metal hands ripping shreds off of her costume, carving gashes into her face- her now-bloodstained mask had fallen off, her eyes were flickering green and purple and she sobbed, agonized cries escaping her lips as the bots tore into her, pulling her apart- “Make them stop!” she screamed, gaze locked with Gregory, begging with him as streams of crimson ran down her face, “please, make them stop, I’m sorry-”
He couldn’t make himself look any longer, covering his face, pushing himself away, away from her. As ripping fabric turned into the horrible sound of tearing flesh and muscle and splattering blood, the boy kicked at the door Vanny had come in through, pushing it open and slipping out and running.
He couldn’t see in this back hall, it was dark and musty with the scent of blood lingering in the air. Gregory held his breath and kept going, stumbling over unidentifiable objects in the blackness, trying to find a way out, away from the horrible scene he’d left behind…
…at some point, Vanny had stopped screaming.
Gregory threw up as soon as he hit the lobby, everything he couldn’t remember eating spilling from his lips; he curled over himself on his knees, too shocked to do anything but struggle to breathe, trembling uncontrollably. He was covered in dust and filth and his shirt was splotched with red he didn’t remember being there before, and he could barely get back to his feet when the dry heaves ended.
All his thoughts returned to Freddy, and he managed to drag himself up and out into the arena again, carefully, creeping out into the open. The bots had to be done, they had to have left him alone by now.
It was still neon and bright in the arena. It hurt his eyes. He couldn’t feel his feet hitting the ground, couldn’t feel the impact of the walls he kept bumping into, trying to find his way back to where his guardian had fallen. He hadn’t seen it… something in him knew where to find the animatronic anyways.
Around a corner, lying in pieces, literal pieces on the rug, was Freddy. His limbs still twitched, but the casing was torn off of his chest and arms, wires ripped out of his insides. Gregory inched closer, flinching as sparks sprayed from the animatronic’s bent neck… his endo looked like it’d been snapped in half, his face mangled from the bot’s hands, and Gregory couldn’t help but think that this was exactly what was happening to Vanessa upstairs.
He dropped to his knees next to Freddy, voice cracking on his guardian’s name. The bear twitched, his functional eye shifting to look at him, some warmth visible on the remains of his face.
Slowly, with the last strength he appeared to have left, Freddy raised his hand, stripped down to the metal endo, and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Gr-regor-ry,” he murmured; tears streamed down Gregory’s cheeks and he didn’t try to stop them, “you a-are my supe-er-st-star…”
Freddy’s eyes went dim, lids falling shut, and the subtle whir of his systems shutting down was the only sound in the arena. His hand fell limply to the ground and Gregory grabbed onto it and sobbed.
This wasn’t right, this wasn’t how things were supposed to end… he knew how it ended, and no one- no one was meant to die-
It wasn’t supposed to end this way. He didn’t want to be alone.
⚬⭖⚬⭖⚬⭖⚬⭖⚬⭖⚬⭖⚬⭖⚬⭖⚬⭖⚬
Vanessa woke up with an urge to set something on fire.
It was an unusual feeling, and she lay in bed for a few minutes, puzzling over it. The last time she’d really had an itch for arson, the Mega Pizzaplex had burned down at her hands. She always said there was no greater joy than watching her nightmares go up in smoke and flames.
Freddy didn’t appreciate her eagerness with fire. He’d actually had a conversation with her a few months ago, probably convinced she was some kind of pyromaniac. First the Pizzaplex, then a parking garage full of employee cars, then an entire box of Vanny’s costume pieces…
She smirked a little to herself, remembering how confidently she’d told him that all those things deserved to burn, and how his eyes had gone wide in horror at the idea that he’d moved in with a former killer-turned-arsonist. Still, she made an effort to stop after that, because it was ‘setting a bad example for Gregory’ or whatever.
Pushing herself up, she let herself breathe in the fresh air coming in through the window. Freddy had probably already been in here to open it- summer was ending and the cool breeze blowing through the house, rustling curtains and loose papers, was a welcome feeling. And her room was something nice to look at again- they’d all painted her walls a rich purple, because no way her experiences were going to take away her favorite color, and her gaming laptop was set up again, with all the little figurines and fidget toys scattered on the desk. Her bed wasn’t cluttered and dusty anymore, it didn’t hurt her head and eyes to be in here with the memories.
She’d already heard movement downstairs- probably Freddy making breakfast- but it had stopped before she got out of bed. The girl didn’t think much of it at first... she didn’t think too hard about why she’d woken up with arson-related thoughts... up until she was searching her closet for a sweatshirt and found a purple flannel instead, wrinkled and unwashed, hidden out of sight, out of mind.
It took her another second to remember why she’d stashed it there. She hadn’t worn it since escaping the Pizzaplex for the first time, almost a year ago...
...no, no. Exactly a year ago.
Once she’d found a hoodie and shrugged it over her shoulders, Vanessa headed out and downstairs, beelining for the kitchen. The other two in the house probably knew by now... it didn’t hurt to ask, but while she’d hardly noticed the difference, it might’ve been different for them.
She didn’t expect to see Freddy and Gregory in front of the counter, speaking quietly, seriously to each other. The kid usually got up much earlier than she did, but she hadn’t expected him to venture out so soon...
...he turned to her when she came in, and his eyes were glistening with tears. Without missing a beat, Gregory stumbled forward and threw his arms around her waist, hugging tight as though she might pull away. She could hear him whispering against her shirt, “You’re alive, you’re okay, you're okay.”
And that... after a year, it was just a little surprising. She hadn’t seen the boy like this in a long time; he was good about dreams and nightmares now, good at coping and going to Freddy and doing breathing exercises to help with panic attacks. And yet, now, Gregory was hugging her like she’d disappear the moment she pulled away.
She held still for a minute, exchanging a look with Freddy as the animatronic straightened up. He didn’t offer any explanation; he just seemed concerned, silently motioning for her to do… something.
“Greg?” she asked, her voice falling soft. “You okay, kid? What’s going on?”
He shook his head. “You were d- you were dead, I messed up, I messed up and you were both dead.” His voice trembled, muffled in the fabric. “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to do it wrong, it ruined everything, ‘m sorry, I’m sorry…”
“I believe Gregory had a nightmare,” Freddy offered in explanation, frowning worriedly at the boy.
“It was real.” He pushed himself away to look between the two of them, shivering hard. “It was- it felt real…”
“We’re right here.” Vanessa, trying to sort through her own confusion, reached out to cup his face in her palm. “This is real, kid. It was a nightmare, you’re okay. Everything’s fine.” He squeezed his eyes shut, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. “I promise.”
Gregory took a shaky breath and reached up to touch her hand. His shoulders slumped a little, relieved, and he let her wrap him in a hug this time, burying his face against her chest. “Why today?” he whispered. “Why did it have to be so long after… it’s over, it’s over…”
She glanced up, over Gregory’s head, but the animatronic had already turned back to the stove, determinedly not meeting her gaze. Freshly-poured batter sizzled in the pan, and a stack of steaming golden pancakes sat on a plate nearby. Those weren’t a coincidence, not on this particular morning, and he knew it.
“Well…” Vanessa hummed softly, knowing the sound usually helped him calm down. “It’s over, of course… it’s just the anniversary today, and everything feels weird.”
The boy stiffened a little at that. “It is?”
“It is.” When Gregory finally, reluctantly let go, she pushed herself up onto the countertop to stare Freddy down. “Or it was, starting at midnight. Not sure what you’d call it at this point in the day.” He must have sensed her eyes boring holes into the back of his head, but the animatronic still didn’t look at her. Vanessa tugged the sleeves of her hoodie, starting to wonder if he was being like this because of her.
After all, it was the anniversary of Gregory nearly being killed at her hands, the anniversary of the day he lost his home. Not just the anniversary of Vanessa finally getting freed from the prison of her own mind…
Gregory didn’t miss the tension. Wiping his eyes, he leaned against Freddy and mumbled, “It doesn’t feel like it’s been a year right now… feels like it just happened.” He stood up on his toes to see what his father figure was making, and face lit up. “Pancakes?” A small smile crossed his face and he looked back at Vanessa. “We had those, remember? A year ago?”
She nodded, but the smile must not have reached her eyes, or maybe Gregory just knew her too well after a year, because he glanced between her and Freddy, uncertain.
“You remember, right?” he asked the animatronic, tugging on his arm to get his attention. “Right, Freddy? I told you about it after, ‘cause your battery had already died…”
Vanessa slipped out of the kitchen while they were talking, stepping out onto the front porch to clear her head. Freddy was probably remembering everything she’d ever done to him and Gregory… probably thinking about her god-awful habit of setting things on fire and spiraling and shutting everyone out when things got too messy in her head. It had only been a year, after all, hardly enough time to expect forgiveness, since she’d done so much wrong even after she got control of her body again. Today was just going to be…
…bad.
Bad, horrible memories. Her fingers twitched at her sides, and the unbidden image of where she kept the matches flashed in her mind. Something needed to burn. Something needed to burn, so she could get the horrible, choking urge out of her veins, so she could keep the memories locked away, burnt to a crisp, rather than reliving them again.
The box of matches slipped snugly in her pocket and she was back outside, out of sight in seconds, shaking, wanting to watch it all go up in smoke, to watch everything burn…
…then the door opened behind her. The girl glanced over her shoulder and slumped a little as Freddy stepped out onto the porch, too, with an expression that was all too knowing. “Vanessa,” he started, then paused, glowing eyes flicking over her face.
“What?” It came out a little harsher than she intended; she winced and avoided his gaze, crossing her arms.
The animatronic sighed, folding his hands the way he did when scolding Gregory for swearing or throwing a shoe at Vanessa... which happened a lot... “I know today is a difficult day, and it has already started out difficult. However, I would prefer that you shared your feelings rather than- how would one put this?- stewing in them.”
“Stewing?” She snorted. “I’m coping just fine, thanks. I’m not pretending everything’s fine when it’s not, you know?”
Freddy must have missed the dig at him. He just shook his head. “Perhaps this is true... but I question your choice of coping.” Casting a look behind him, in case Gregory had decided to eavesdrop at the door, he stepped closer, setting a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, not knowing quite why, and he dropped his hand immediately. “Please put the matches away.”
She blinked at him innocently. “Matches?”
“The ones in your hoodie pocket.” She backed up. “Vanessa-”
“Freddy.”
“...we have discussed this.”
“I wasn’t going to do it to anything important, okay? It’s not going to hurt anyone, it’s not going to damage property, and no one will know unless they smell the smoke.”
The bear stared at her. “Vanessa... that is terrible reasoning.”
“No, it’s great reasoning, and you aren’t going to stop me.” The animatronic caught her by the arm before she could slip past him. “Freddy.”
“Vanessa.” He let go of her wrist, seeming more concerned now. “Something else is bothering you. You have been good about...”
“About setting things on fire? Shocker, I know.” She rolled her eyes. “Are we done?”
Freddy didn’t answer for a moment. A breeze rustled by, blowing faded red strands into her eyes, and she turned to lean against the banister, watching leaves scatter down the quiet street. Days like this were nice, peaceful, so different from the racing thoughts in her head. The world hadn’t seemed to get the memo that today wasn’t just any day to enjoy.
He sighed at last, drawing her attention again. “Please talk to me, Vanessa,” Freddy implored, with just a little more desperation in his tone that wasn’t... really normal... “I could not convince you to see a therapist, and you keep your friends at arm’s length. You have come to me in the past, so I do not know what the problem is now.”
“Maybe I just don’t feel like sharing things anymore.” Her fingers tightened around the railing. “‘Specially if we’re not being honest with each other today. What’s the point in fucking talking about it?”
“Language-” Freddy started automatically, drawing a groan out of the girl. “I... you are upset with me, then. Is that it?” She shrugged. “Is it because I have been... less honest with you this morning?” Vanessa shrugged again, picking at the wood grain under her fingers. It bothered her more than she would’ve liked to admit, but here she was anyway.
The animatronic paused for a moment, eyes flicking away, back toward the door. Vanessa pretended not to notice when he looked back at her, studying her intently. “...I admit, today has not been easy for me either. It is, after all, the anniversary of... everything.” His voice sounded strained. Another pause passed. Vanessa watched the clouds moving lazily across the sky, as though it could distract her from her shaking hands fiddling with the matchbox in her pocket.
“I was reluctant to say anything, if I am honest.” The bear moved closer. She let him. “I know you and Gregory are dealing with a lot today. How could I add to that?”
“You could.” She regretted speaking immediately, gritting her teeth. “It’s worse if you don’t. Then we know something’s wrong with one of us...”
“It is not about either of you!” Freddy insisted, eyes widening. “I promise it is not. My feelings toward you and Gregory have not changed.”
“You’re lying.”
“I am not-”
“It sure feels like it.” Her whole body was shaking now. “I mean- I did all these things to you and to Gregory- I haven’t even begun to make up for it, a year later, and there’s no better day for you to realize that and hate me-”
Freddy took her hands. Her vision was blurred with tears when she looked at him. “I do not hate you,” he told her firmly. “I never hated you.”
“Y- you hated Vanny. Liar.”
“Are you Vanny?” It reminded her of what Gregory had asked, a year ago, in that horrible room she’d set ablaze minutes later... and it was jarring. A year ago, she’d started separating herself from the killer. She still slipped into that mindset, again and again, because some things were Vanessa’s fault, so why couldn’t everything be?
And yet... when Freddy asked her that, her answer was the same as always. “No.”
“You are Vanessa, and you are not responsible for what Vanny did.” The animatronic locked eyes with her- it wasn’t as uncanny as it’d used to be. It felt familiar, warm and comforting. Her shoulders slumped a little in relief. “I have never hated you. Perhaps Vanny, but not you.”
At some point, she’d dropped her head against his chest in defeat, letting Freddy wrap her in a hug, humming soothingly the way she sometimes did for Gregory. “I know you have your old coping methods in mind today, but I also believe you can resist them. You can talk to me.”
“Well,” she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut in case any tears dared escape her eyes, “same for you, then. What’s on your mind?”
He paused. “My friends.”
And that hurt, bringing back that same wave of your fault your fault your fault- Vanessa swallowed hard. “I-”
“It is not your fault.” There was a sad smile in his tone as he leaned back to look at her. “It is just what I remember from that day, what is... on my mind. Perhaps we all should be talking about it after all. I am sure Gregory is worried about you, too.”
Vanessa snorted, wrapping her arms around herself, the matches all but forgotten. “Yeah, all right... and I do want pancakes.”
Freddy stiffened. “Ah,” he muttered, and turned abruptly to go back inside. “The pancakes.”
As the animatronic rushed to return to a very charred pancake, Gregory giggling at his panic from his spot at the table, the girl took a deep breath, letting her hands steady. She brought the matchbox back to the kitchen and left them near Freddy, exchanging a knowing look with him before joining her brother at the table.
He’d keep them somewhere safe for the day... in case the urge came back. For now, the pit in her stomach, the voice in her head that screamed for fire, it had all died down.
Gregory latched onto her arm quickly when she sat down, half-bent over his sketchbook but still adjusting to lean against her. It was calming, starting to settle the horrible thoughts in her head. Just a little.
The boy glanced at her briefly, like he was checking that she was still there, still... still alive, probably. Vanessa couldn’t begin to imagine how bad his nightmare must have been... hopefully he’d be open to talking about it. Hopefully this was the right way of handling an anniversary like this.
“Still here,” she promised, hoping it would help. Gregory hummed in response, snuggling closer. “Everything ended the right way, I think. This is how it was meant to go.”
“Yeah.” The boy swung his legs back and forth for a moment, seeming thoughtful. “I’m glad I made the right choice.”
Vanessa didn’t quite get what that meant. Maybe it would make sense later.
For now, Freddy was bringing over the plate of pancakes, looking a bit weary, and Gregory leapt up to get the maple syrup, nearly ramming right into the animatronic, and it was chaotic and wonderful all at once. And a year after their family had come together, everything was okay.