you've been good
you've been good to me
so sad like a comedy
yeah, i'm floating on an open ocean
do the dance, go through the motions

Saint Motel
The Moment

•••••

A Michael-orientated beginning, as a treat

TW: death, cremation(?), blood. its fnaf lmfao what else would u expect

  Michael wasn't meant to wake up after the fire. 

  If we're being technical, he wasn't meant to wake up after getting his insides forcefully removed, either. It should've been a straight road to his end. His grave should've already been dug as soon as that giant, metal claw pierced through the cavity of his chest.

But against everything that made the world turn, he didn't die. He was there when the robots used his body as a skin suit to escape the security system of their underground location, forced to watch as his body shuffled through shadows and hid in alleyways. Then, after the amalgamation of soul-infused robots removed themselves from his crumpled, broken, rotten body, Michael was left there in himself. He was still alive.

  ... if you could call a living corpse alive. Aware, then. Present still in his decaying self, possessing a zombified body. He was a cheap horror flick come to life. He was every B-grade special effects. And living like that was messy and gross and it fucking sucked.

But he definitely wasn't meant to wake up after the fire.

The Aftons had a habit of being overlooked by Death. Being hard to kill must run in the family. 

  The fire, though, he was sure it would carry his salvation in the licks of its flames. He, Henry and Charlie had poured over this plan again and again. Lure them in. Set the blaze. Release the souls. End it all. Rest, finally. Finally.

The plan had taken action. The generators had burst into flame within the bowels of the pizzeria Henry had ignited. Michael was content with his approaching, final end.

He walked in the burning abyss. Around him, writhing, twitching robots succumbed to the heat as the last shreds of the souls inside them were released. How many years had they been stuck inside them? How many years had Michael tried to save them? Finally, it had come to this.

He came to a stop at a room of which furious screams spiralled from. He watched from the door as his equally-dead-but-not-quite father crumpled within his melting, ruined spring-locked costume. Watching William keel over with his pained grunts and frantic shouting as he tried with fierce desperation to stay alive felt cathartic to Michael in every sense of the word.

  He moved on with a gentle smile, satisfied. The screams behind him faded.

It was bittersweet that Henry would go down in flames with him and the rest of the possessed animatronics that had been lured to this mousetrap of a diner, but he knew that he was content with and awaiting his death, too. They'd been through so much together, walked through hell hand-in-hand as makeshift father and son, and it was time for their story to come to a close.

Henry had a daughter awaiting him. Michael wondered if Evan would be there to welcome him, too. But maybe not. He wouldn't blame him if he didn't.

  Still, he hoped that he'd catch Evan in the afterlife, or whatever happened when the fire would reach its crescendo, so he could could apologise. He didn't know if his younger brother heard the sorrys he whispered at the hospital bedside.

He hopes he'd find Henry in the afterlife, too. To thank him one last time for being the father William never was.

  He caught a glimpse of the genial, old man while stumbling through the orange haze. Henry was in the corner of the kitchen. The puppet was with him, sat beside her father, as they each peacefully watched their fiery eclipse draw closer and murmured low words that he couldn't hear over the roaring flames.

  He hesitated for a second, just to get one last look at Henry. Then Michael staggered on, not wanting to disrupt this last moment between father and daughter.

The hallway stretched on and he stumbled through it, purpled skin curling black as fire reached out and caressed him. The tiles beneath him cracked and shattered, glossiness poking through residue. He didn't look at his reflection.

He would like to pretend he wasn't what he had become. He would like to pretend that he was still at home, with Y/n, pursuing a perfectly mundane existence of which they had both so dearly craved. The same dream that had slipped through his fingers when he stepped foot in that warehouse location.

  "Michael."

The familiar call of his name, a timid, girly voice, made him stop. He didn't think he'd hear that voice again, let alone see her. He turned.

  Baby stood before him, a scrapped rebuilding of herself after trying to put her parts back together after removing herself from the robotic amalgamation. The side of her face was melting and one green eye had gone offline.

  Michael felt himself smile.

  "Lizzy," he greeted.

  "I'm sorry," she said. Her one working eye dropped to the ground. What number apology was this? "I thought you were... I didn't realise..."

  "I know," Michael reassured. "I know, Lizzy."

  "And Evan?" Baby's eye jumped back to her brother. He felt his chest tighten at the name.

  "He's gone," Michael replied. "He's at peace."

  Baby's shoulders lowered with a rattle and a click. A sigh of relief. The flames around them crackled and whispered soothing promises, ready to carry them away. She looked at them before landing her gaze back on Michael.

  "Can I walk with you?" she meekly asked. "I don't want to... I don't want to go alone."

  The roar of the fire made Baby's quiet voice almost inaudible as she stood, frighteningly tall and yet looking so small, so unsure, so scared in the middle of the burning hallway. Michael held out his hand and for just a glimpse, a split second, a young girl with blonde hair and sad green eyes looked back.

  "I would love to, Liz."

She spared him the softest smile her warped face could create and landed her hand in his.

  Brother and sister, corpse and animatronic, they strolled through their burning salvation. Baby's legs would occasionally lock and glitch. Michael's skin had began to flake and shed. Their end was drawing near with each step.

  They stumbled across a storage room that had yet to catch aflame and Michael spotted a gasoline canister next to a box of matches. He was sure that Henry had planned that too, the aching genius, so that Michael could go out in the flames of his own creation.

  Baby's frame finally gave out and she crumpled, sat in the middle of the room and watching as Michael stumbled around while pouring out the gasoline. His fumbling fingers struggled with opening the matchbox and grabbing a stick, but when he succeeded it was struck against the side.

  He watched the flame for a brief second. It licked at the wood, crawling closer towards his fingertips. It would save him. It would save them all. And it would send his father to where Cassidy was waiting impatiently for his arrival.

  Michael turned to Baby, who watched him back. "Ready?"

  She gave a jolted nod. "Do it."

  The match dropped and the circumference of the room burst into warmth. Michael stumbled back and collapsed next to Baby, watching in anticipation and content as the flames crawled closer. He leant against the large frame of the possessed animatronic, weary and triumphant.

  "This is it," Baby murmured. The flickering firelight danced across her scuffed shell and she watched it forlornly. "Freedom, finally."

  "Yeah," Michael nodded. The flames crept closer, almost hesitant in their roaring descent.

  "Do you have any regrets?" Baby asked quietly as the fire reached out to the pair, touching their toes, holding their hands.

  Michael smiled in the first show of pain.

  "One," he murmured, just as the fire swallowed him whole.

•••••

  Michael wasn't meant to wake up after the fire.
  But he did.

| S A F E   M O D E |

CALCULATING...

INTEGRITY
|•|•|•| | |

01000111 01101100 01100001 01101101 01110010 01101111 01100011 01101011 00100000 01000110 01110010 01100101 01100100 01100100 01111001 00100000 01110100 01110111 01100101 01110010 01101011 01101001 01101110 01100111

BATTERY
|•|•|•|•|•|

01101001 01100110 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01110100 01110010 01100001 01101110 01110011 01101100 01100001 01110100 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 01101110 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 11100010 10000000 10011001 01110010 01100101 00100000 01100001 00100000 01101110 01100101 01110010 01100100

INITIALISING SETUP...

SYSTEMS READY

  His vision flickered to life and found a bright light staring back at him. A mechanical arm was twisting something within his chest, and for a brief, frightful moment, he thought he was back in the scooping room.

But then he realised that he didn't feel any pain. It was more of a spark, a bolt, a connection. More codes and numbers and alerts flooded his vision and he tried his best to pick where he was through the chaos.

Was this the afterlife? It was a lot more... sterile than he imagined it to be.

  Something snapping shut echoed within the chamber. The arm moved away.

  "Alright," a voice crackled to life. "Systems are on and operational. Freddy, can you hear me?"

  Freddy?

Michael didn't know what was happening. He couldn't feel his body, the stitches he painstakingly remade every night in a vain effort to keep his broken body together. He couldn't feel the familiar ache of emptiness where his scooped organs should've been.

  "Freddy, can you hear me?"

  His voice left without his consent.

  "Yes." It sounded deeper, stranger, uncanny. It wasn't his.

  "Good." The voice paused for a second before returning. "Run diagnostics."

RUNNING DIAGNOSTICS...

DIAGNOSTICS READY

WARNING: INTEGRITY LEVEL FAILING

WARNING: INTEGRITY LEVEL FAILING

WARNING: INTEGRITY LEVEL FAILING

  The disembodied voice cursed and Michael's vision disappeared.

  These short testing sessions continued. Michael wasn't sure how many days had passed between sessions, or even if they were days. They could've been minutes or months and he would be none the wiser. The concept of time was all but nonexistent in this calculated, cold limbo.

  Slowly, Michael pieced together what had happened to him, and a sick sense of irony and horror settled over him like a suffocating cloud of smoke. It was a joke, right? He was nothing but a joke to whoever controlled his fate, a cruel little plaything.

He was still here, he was still around. He was in one of them. He was in Freddy Fazbear. The very namesake that caused his brother's death, both the bear and Michael, all wrapped up into one.

  What is it about Aftons and never dying? Did Death hate them? Did Death take away the only salvation Michael could ever hope of reaching? It was rancid, it was vile, but there was nothing he could do. He was stuck.

  Michael considered it generational karma, a curse, brought on when his sick father killed that first child, his first victim, poor little Charlotte. And he was left to deal with it. Him and Henry.

  Henry. Did he move on? Was he still stuck? What about Lizzy? Charlotte? The other kids? Was all their effort for nothing?

  He wasn't meant to wake up after the fire. He didn't want to wake up after the fire.

  Sometime, after countless sessions, he woke up somewhere new. It was a room with a red couch and a massive LED light on the ceiling that was shaped like a star. A vanity showed him his reflection for the first time, and if he could, he would've cringed away at the sight.

  He hated Freddy Fazbear most of all, the same bot that made home in his deepest horrors, his worst nightmares, with a limp body between his jaw and blood pouring from his teeth. The same namesake that would try to kill him with every nightshift.

Now, he was Freddy Fazbear. A reboot of his father's creation, imprisoned in his body, in this place, destined for an eternity of neon-lit monotony.

William always did get the last laugh.

The first year was the hardest. Things were different all the time, settling into a routine and then having it ripped out from beneath him. The other robots in the band were lifeless, lacking the personality that Freddy Fazbear had inherited from the soul possessing him.

They weren't possessed. For the first time in his life, Michael was entirely alone.

But then, things began to change.

The others began to learn.

And the precipice of it was when the reboot Bonnie sat him down one day and said, lacking any and all decorum or warmth; "what are you?"

Michael told the truth. He told the rabbit animatronic with its cold, pink eyes his life; of Lizzy, of Evan, of the custody case and his mother that never returned, of his father. Of meeting Y/n. He told him of the life after that, the investigations of the Fazbear locations, of his deaths. Of ending up where he was and of being entirely alone.

He didn't expect it to stick. He expected Bonnie to walk away and continue in his lifeless tedium of playing the bass on stage for a crowd that grew with each passing day. But it did stick. It stuck, and Bonnie began to see the lead singer in a different light.

Then, one day;

"I don't like playing the bass," Bonnie announced while they all waited for the next show to begin.

The Glamrocks turned their heads to the rabbit. Bonnie was staring at the instrument in his grasp with lowered ears and a scrutinising expression. It was the first expression he truly wore, because it was his and not something programmed into him.

Michael stared at the rabbit with wonder. The others watched him with their usual blankness.

"What?" the manager at the time spluttered.

"I don't like it," Bonnie said. He rested the guitar at his feet and leant on the enforced steel neck with a genuine look of nonchalance. "It's boring. Can I play the drums instead?"

After a spiel of bewilderment, Bonnie was moved to the drums. After that, it was a landslide of growing personalities, of developing AIs and of synthetic psyches but psyches all the same. Chica followed. Roxy and Monty followed. Music Man and the Daycare Attendant followed. Before he knew it, Michael had found a family in this place that he had begun to call home.

Best of all, he could picture his father's vehement jealousy that somebody had created animatronics even better than his own. That only made Michael like the Glamrocks all the more. What better than this to stick it to William? Being the best was all his sick father had ever wanted, that and being immortal, and now he was neither.

  With that in mind... it wasn't too bad of a life. Repetitive, maybe, and a little monotonous for sure, but with him being the only possessed animatronic and no William to worry about, Michael felt himself truly relax for the first time.

The kids loved him and he loved bringing smiles to their faces. It brought to him a peace he never knew he craved; seeing children safe and happy and enjoying their carefree lives before responsibilities began to weigh them down. It was such a shift from what he was used to, personally and in observation. It was a welcomed change.

  Things were in a perpetual wheel of motion at the Pizzaplex. Advancements, upgrades, new sets, new routines. As the place grew, it became a whirlwind of commotion and it was only getting busier. Soon, it got so busy that the band manager couldn't look after all the bots. Thus, the handlers were brought in.

  First, it was only a singular person to manage all of the animatronics. It worked that way for a while, maybe a year or so, but with each of the bots' personalities growing; anxieties, wants, likes and dislikes, the need for extra assistance became apparent.

  Michael enjoyed having a handler. He enjoyed making new friends; friends that he could guide and support. He found himself with worried souls that he would soothe and help blossom into someone confident. He could be a big brother to those that came through, and he'd watch with pride as they grew.

  And when they left, he would be reminded of his prison once again. He would be reminded of the life he was forced to give up. The domestic bliss, the hopes and dreams for a family where he would be a better father than his own was to him. It was torturous. Then someone new was brought in, and the cycle would start over again.

  Sometimes, when times were particularly tough and he felt as though he were on the edge, he'd pretend that the young, inexperienced, anxious handlers were Evan and he was a brother who wasn't manipulated into being a bully by his father.

  'Thanks, Freddy!'

  'Good job today, Freddy!'

  'You're such a nice guy, Freddy!'

  Appreciation, praise, the thing so scarcely given during his formative years, was spoken to him freely, every night, at the Pizzaplex. He felt warmth blossom within his detached soul whenever someone looked at him with affection or warmth.

  And sometimes that warmth reminded him of something painful.

  He'd think about her often, and he'd speak to Bonnie about her when he needed to verbalise his remorse; the girl who stole the heart of the co-founder's son, the only regret a living corpse could have.

  Bonnie would sit and listen which was appreciated due to how rarely the bunny could stay quiet, but Michael knew that despite how advanced his AI was, Bonnie still didn't quite understand.

  "Why don't you just go back to her?" Bonnie would ask. And then he'd look around the Pizzaplex and go 'oh.'

  He told Bonnie about their investigations into William Afton and the disappearances. He told Bonnie about finding out that the animatronics were possessed. He told Bonnie about how he got scooped and did not die the two times he should have.

  Bonnie would ask questions, and every year or so when his AI was just that little bit more developed, he would get Michael to retell his story again so he could digest the information in a new way.

  And with everything so unsure all the time with the weird life he led, there was at least one thing Michael could be confident in;

  Y/n would never, ever come to Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex.

  She never put herself in the front lines when it came to investigating Freddy's. Michael never let her, afraid that his family's curse would cost her her life. He would never see her again, but he was content with knowing that Y/n would now forever be out of danger from the paranormal going ons of Freddy Fazbear's.

  He was wrong.

  He was so, so wrong.

•••••

  I swiped my ID card at the entrance to the Pizzaplex, keep cup of coffee in hand.

  It was seven in the morning and the world was only just beginning to wake. The sun was starting to rise, spilling ochre onto the parking lot like dropped paint and colouring my car in the employee lot gold.

  Hurricane was quiet, as it always was in the early morning. Earlier start times made way for less traffic on the road, which in turn made my half-hour commute a peaceful journey that missed the morning rush. I wasn't angry about the earlier wake-up call if this was the pay-off.

  I swiped on my Faz-Watch as I entered through the doors that opened for me, scrolling down the general daily schedule before going into the bots' separate planners. Bonnie was fronting a birthday party at four. Other than that, it was pretty much free time to spend bookkeeping or making sure the animatronics were happy in their attractions.

  It'd been a couple of days since I began and I was starting to get used to everything.

  "Good morning, manger Y/n."

  "Gah!" I yelped and dropped my cup.

  ... everything except for Freddy.

  Freddy bent down to retrieve my cup whose lid miraculously stayed on while I tried to calm my racing heart. He held it out for me, ears folded back with hesitance. The red earring swung.

  "I apologise for scaring you."

  I sighed through my nose as I stared at my keep cup in his massive grasp. I took it with a smile up at him.

  "Thanks, Freddy," I said and took a sip. I sighed in delight as I swallowed the coffee, already kicking on the caffeine hit. "Good morning to you, too. What are you doing all the way down here?"

  Freddy didn't need to hurry to keep up with my walk as I made my way across the lobby. One of his steps was two of mine, so he awkwardly meandered as he kept pace.

  "I wanted to greet each worker as they arrived," he explained as we ascended the stairs. "To raise morale."

  I sneaked a look back just in time to see a group of technicians enter the building with no bot to welcome them as he said he would. Freddy didn't seem to hear them. Or ignored them, in favour of pressing the elevator button. A confused smile crept across my face.

  "... okay," I said slowly and took a long drag from my drink.

  "What's on the agenda for today, manager Y/n?" Freddy asked as he followed me into the elevator.

  "It's a pretty easy day," I replied, scrolling through the schedule on the watch. "Bonnie has a party at four, and that's it."

  "Easy indeed," Freddy commented. The rest of the elevator ride and the walk to my office was in painful silence, with the only thing audible being the pistons softly hissing within Freddy as he walked, and the ground shaking underneath him.

  He stopped outside my office as I swiped my card and stepped inside. He remained at the entrance as I dropped my bag onto the couch and pulled off my jacket. Feeling his lingering gaze, I turned back to him.

  "Uh..." My eyes nervously glanced around the room before landing back on Freddy. Why was he so weird? Like, yeah, I get it, he's a robot, but even the others weren't like... this. "Is there anything I can do for you, big guy?"

  "Oh," Freddy said. His blue eyes shifted to the side and his ears twitched. "No. I will take my leave."

  He hovered for another hesitant second before finally turning and walking back towards the green rooms. I released a breath that I didn't know I was holding and shut the door.

  In the privacy of my office, I slumped back into the couch and sighed. While I was still skeptical on the whole 'these animatronics are basically sentient' shtick that everyone insisted on, it was only Freddy that really creeped me out.

  There was something about him that just felt... off. He was different than the others, he lingered and stared and spoke as little as he could. On stage he at least acted to the same capacity as the rest of the band, but once he's off stage? It was like he didn't know what he was supposed to be doing half the time.

  This was a new development though, according to the workers at the Pizzaplex. Freddy was usually the easiest bot to handle - Dennis even said so himself, word for word. He was polite, pleasant to be around, great at his job. Mandy even compared his personality to that of her dearly deceased grandfather, he was that comforting of an AI.

  Ever since he took that crash in the rehearsal room, he'd been acting weird. Quiet. But they couldn't find what the issue was.

  It was worrying. What if his programming spazzed and he went berserk? What if there was another incident like '83? Or '87?

  He was just so unpredictable and it frightened me. It wasn't as if the animatronics had a past of being pacifists. 

  I dropped my hands from my face and stared tiredly at the ceiling. It was too damn early to start having a crisis.

  I spent the hour I had before the handlers arrived to double check and approve the birthday bookings for the bots over the weekend. While weekday parties were scarce, the weekend was almost flushed through with parents wanting their child's favourite Glamrock to serve cake and wish them a happy birthday.

  Freddy was by far the favourite. I winced at his fully booked days - poor Mandy. No doubt every weekend was full on for the pair.

  When the clock hit eight, the animatronic's handlers arrived and they began their morning routine of asking how their bot's night was while making sure nothing was knocked out of place while they were on free roam. I greeted them as they arrived, still only slightly uncomfortable with the newness of myself.

  Chica and Drake were the first to leave Rockstar Row - headed to the Mazercise area for the first pilates class of the day at quarter-past. I had half a mind to join them, but the reminder that I'd end up all sweaty without a change of clothes turned me off.

  I checked my emails while time marched on, and the only thing that really caught my interest was a new shipment of Roxy and Monty's claws, which were prone to breaking. Freddy's weren't, apparently, which made little sense since they were comparable to the wolf's.

  By the time all that was done, it was almost time for the first pre-show maintenance check. I wandered down the utility tunnels to the big room under the stage and played around with the Faz-Watch to waste the time, sat on one of the big storage crates.

  "Hey, Y/n!"

  I glanced up just as Mandy and Freddy arrived. I raised my hand in greeting as the girl skittered across the floor towards me, the bot's slow, loud steps accompanying her.

  "Good morning, Mandy," I said with a smile. "Hey again, Freddy."

  "Good morning!" she chirped with a wobbly smile while Freddy only nodded. Mandy nervously chuckled and wrung her hands together. "I'm actually- actually really glad you're here. There's a loose wire inside of Freddy's wrist and I'm not sure where it's meant to connect to."

  I turned off the watch and patted my lap. "Let me see."

  It took a few beats before Freddy moved to follow my orders, metal creaking as he edged forth and gently lay his arm across my lap. One of his fingers was twitching violently - why didn't he tell me about it when he saw me that morning? How did I not notice?

  "Alrighty," I breathed as I peered through the crevice between his wrist and forearm. Just as Mandy said, a loose wire was tangled around the others, poking out teasingly with its silver strands flayed.

  "Yikes," I muttered. "That's been ripped. Can you get me some electrical tape? It should hold, but I'll book him in for emergency maintenance after the show to get it replaced."

  Mandy nodded and pattered off to the spare storage room in search of tape. While waiting, I unlatched his wrist shell and located the wire, unfurling it from its multicoloured home.

  "How'd you do this, buddy?" I asked as I carefully kept my fingers away from the exposed metal end.

  "... I am unsure," Freddy answered hesitantly. His blue eyes watched me organise the wires into something less jumbled while we waited for Mandy's return. I glanced up at him doubtfully.

  "Freddy," I warned, understanding the pause too well; he was a truly awful liar. He released a mechanical sigh, and the action was startlingly human.

  "My hand slipped when I left my recharging chamber after Mandy arrived," he said, reluctant gaze pointed to the ground. "She took me by surprise."

  My focus lifted to his face. "And you didn't tell her because you didn't want Mandy to feel bad?"

Freddy's shoulders slumped further and his brows furrowed together. His ears twitched back.

  "I am worrying her," he murmured as he watched the ground. "I never worry my handlers."

  Oh, no. Dennis was wrong. Freddy wasn't the only one who didn't have issues like the others - he did have an issue, and it was something painfully familiar to myself and almost invisible to so many others.

  He was a people pleaser. A hardcore one, at that.

  The urge to be perfect and reliable as to not worry or put anybody else out of their way. To be low maintenance, to be easy, to never say no or kick up a fuss even if you really ought to. I'd known someone like that, once.

  Freddy was ticking all the boxes. And I felt bad for him.

  "You can't expect yourself to be perfect all the time," I reminded. I slid some wayward pistons back into place with my free hand. "You're not exactly one-hundred percent at the moment, but that's not your fault. Don't blame yourself for having a couple of off-days."

  "It is much more than a couple of days," Freddy said quietly with his deep, reverberating voice. It travelled down his arm and the vibrations of it trembled through my legs.

  I sent him a disapproving look and gestured to his arm, to which I was performing that of an emergency splint to in robot version.

  "Staying quiet about stuff will only make situations like this far worse."

  Freddy didn't get a chance to respond. His ear flickered and he looked over just as Mandy returned with the electrical tape. As I fastened a quick-fix, the other animatronics and their handlers wandered in.

  "All done," I said as I clicked the wrist shell back into place with a pat. "I'll book Freddy in as soon as the autograph session is over."

  Mandy profusely thanked me and, again, it took Freddy a couple of long seconds to remove his arm from my lap. His handler dragged him away to give me space and go through the checklist while I booked him in to get his wire replaced... and maybe an extra check on his programming because surely something was out of place, right?

  When I looked up, Bonnie was glancing between Freddy and I. When he caught my stare he waved excitedly. I felt myself grin and waved back with with as much enthusiasm.

  My smile dropped as soon as the bunny turned. He knows something.

  This time for the performance I stood on the balcony floor of the atrium and watched Freddy's hands worriedly as he effortlessly and energetically performed. It was a temporary solution, but I wasn't sure how well the electrical tape would hold out for the kind of hardcore movements he pulled during the shows.

   It was about halfway through when I finally forced myself to relax - nothing bad had happened yet, and even if it did, it wasn't as if I could do anything mid-concert.

  The music wasn't terrible for a kid's entertainment complex. Sure, the lyrics were a little cheesy when you focused on them - it was always about being an animatronic, or being best friends with a robot, or something else aesthetically and thematically related to the Pizzaplex slapped on top of an instrumental ripped right out of the 80s. But it was for kids, so I'd give them that leeway.

  It was catchy, I'd admit. There were a couple of songs that I'd even add to my playlist if I didn't want to rip my head off from seeing the band perform it every shift after two weeks of working there.

  And Freddy's voice bank? Whoever they chose to give their voice to the bear was a damn good choice. A deep timbre, rolling like hills and heavy like thunder. It suited him just right.

  All of them had brilliant voice banks, as all of the band members would have a chance to sing at least a couple of lines as back-up vocals during each song. Freddy's was just far more noticeable with him being the lead singer.

  I felt myself relax further as Freddy continued his enthusiastic showboating for the eager crowd, calling out and getting a chorus of shouts back from both child and adult alike. His laughter was booming. He was nothing like how he was off-stage; he looked comfortable up there, doing what he was made to.

  My crossed arms rested on the banister and my chin found them, contently sprawled as I cocked a leg and watched the show.

  It was okay. It was all okay, and the band was amazing.

  After the show I watched over the autograph and photo sessions. Lines of kids with their parents crawled over the entire floor, creating snakes of humans and making it hard to navigate. I managed to sneak my way to Roxy's room and observe the sessions while making small talk with Gabby.

  "Rock on!" Roxy yelled with a wink and a pose to the camera. The little girl on her bent knee copied her with a smaller 'rock on!'

  Four o'clock rolled around faster than I thought and I found myself walking alongside Joey and Bonnie as we made our way towards the party rooms outside the Daycare. It was the first party that had been booked since I started working at the Pizzaplex, and Dennis had all but insisted that I went along to understand the process. 

  "Hey, little bunnies!" Bonnie loudly announced as the door to the registered party room automatically slid open for him. A loud chorus of gasps greeted the animatronic. "Guess who it isss? Too slow, it's me!"

  "Bonnie!" A little girl careened towards the robot and nearly knocked herself back to the ground by smacking into his legs for a hug. Undeterred (and probably having dealt with far worse), Bonnie knelt down and picked her up into his arms. Joey and I snuck in to stand to the side.

  "Are you the birthday girl?" Bonnie didn't actually need to ask, as her guest information was all logged into the server. When she nodded, he gasped just as loudly as the kids did before. "Oh, my goodness! What's your name?"

  "Adelaide!" she happily chirped. Bonnie's ears joyously twitched.

  "And how old are you turning today, Adelaide?"

  Adelaide held up her hand and Bonnie made a show of counting each finger. She fell into a fit of giggles when Bonnie kept 'messing up' his counting and starting over.

  "You're four!" Bonnie finally announced smugly, totally incorrect. I hid a snort with my hand.

  "No!" Adelaide shrieked with laughter in his arms. "I'm five!"

  "Five?!" Bonnie echoed in shock. He turned to the rest of the kids, who had gathered around him like moths to a flame and were watching him with wide, little eyes. "Five?! Did you know that Adelaide was turning five today?!"

  "Yes!" a couple of the kids shouted back between giggles.

  "Well, now I just feel silly," Bonnie harrumphed. His face brightened and he turned back to Adelaide, who'd begun tracing the star around his eye with a small finger. "Do you know what birthday girls get, Adelaide?"

  "What?" she asked.

  "A cake!" Bonnie announced and Adelaide began to pat his chest in excitement. "A massive chocolate cake with vanilla icing! A little birdie told me that it's your favourite."

  Bonnie then put Adelaide back on her feet and opened his chest hatch, where an impressive-looking cake was smoothly slid out onto the table. The top of Bonnie's finger flicked back and I almost gasped as it caught aflame.

  "So was anyone gonna tell me that the animatronics had a lighter in their finger, or did I just have to find it out myself and have a heart attack?" I whispered to Joey as Bonnie bent over the cake and lit each of the five candles. The handler chuckled and shrugged, unhelpful.

  While Bonnie and the rest of the party sang happy birthday for Adelaide, I felt my Faz-Watch vibrate. I lifted it to see who messaged and felt my chest sink as I read what had been sent from the head mechanic.

From: Jenkins Musa
Department: Parts and Services
RE: Freddy Maintenance
Hey, Y/n. Freddy's wire has been replaced. Still couldn't find anything wrong with his programming or his AI. I'll have a more thorough look on Monday when he's not needed at Fazerblast.

  Disappointed, I replied with my thanks and that I'd keep an eye on him until Monday's maintenance. Joey eyed my troubled expression and raised his eyebrows in silent question.

  "It's Freddy," I murmured under my breath. Bonnie's bent ear flicked up straight, obviously overhearing. "I wanted Parts and Services to check his programming again but they couldn't find anything."

  Joey's face folded into a worried look.

  "He's certainly in a funk," he said and crossed his arms. We watched as Bonnie sat on the ground next to the birthday girl's chair and handed out slices of cake. A man - whom I presumed to be Adelaide's dad, was taking picture after picture.

  "And he's really never been like this before?" I asked. Joey shook his head and I sighed. Just my luck.

  Michael would know how to fix him.

  The thought had hit me like a brick to my back and my breath escaped me. I felt winded with grief.

  I wanted to curse out loud - I'd been doing so well without thinking of Michael for the past three days, and then there I went and ruined my streak.

  I still couldn't escape him.

  I closed my eyes as I tried my best to banish the sudden tidal wave of memories and the emotions that inevitably came with them. He would've been great with the kids. He would've been a brilliant handler. He would've made friends with the Glamrocks - sure, he would've been wary at first due to prior experiences, but he would've loved them. 

  I still couldn't escape him.

  I could picture him, as much as I didn't want to, absolutely geeking out over the advanced AI's that had come so far since '81. I could picture him at his happiest, with his head stuck in the open chassis of a Glamrock as he fixed one glitch or another. I could picture him pretending to hate the songs while tapping his foot to the beat, joining in on Joey and Bonnie during their impromptu comedy sessions, running around with Chica when she couldn't stay still and needed to burn excess energy.

  He would've fit in. He would've made this already great place even better. Michael would've been perfect at the Pizzaplex.

  I tried to erase this train of thought. I tried, but I couldn't, and the consequences had my eyes beginning to sting. I excused myself from the party and retreated to an employee bathroom, where I wiped my eyes and tried to get my head back under control.

  I stared at the mirror and could almost see him standing there with me. A ghost of a memory.

  I still couldn't escape him.