Wallows
••• I Don't Want To Talk •••

realised the older i get

i get more insecure

if i don't have you by my side

then i can't be sure

i'm not alright

•••••

Artist: maddam_simp

Artist: mira<3

Artist: maddam_simp

Artist: TheMoonAlienIsHere

Artist: paoslurs

Artist: Clow

Happy Valentine's Day superstars <3

Having a go at Freddy on a Tuesday was decidedly the worst thing to do.

Not only did it cause emotional damage to both Freddy (for taking the brunt of my trauma-induced, panic-driven burst of rage) and I (for causing said pain to such a friendly face who genuinely cared for me), but it was on a Tuesday - usually my off-day - which was a cover shift to help the Pizzaplex return to normal after the week of anniversary decorations and activities.
So I had the next two days to wallow in misery and regret. And also, of course, have a long slugger of an existential panic over the realisation that Freddy was slowly becoming, through no intention from him nor myself, my new Michael.
I called up my therapist and booked in another session.
I didn't get any sleep Tuesday night, too consumed by Freddy's hurt frown and Michael's smiling face to slumber peacefully. Wednesday night was much the same; staring at the ceiling, too exhausted to cry, too haunted to sleep.

By the time Thursday afternoon rolled around, Matt was staring at my eye bags with a look of intense concern as I bobbed my delightful little honeybee of a toddler niece on my knees.
"You look terrible," he said as we sat outside a cafe for lunch. My glare was withering as I held Amelia's hands while she giggled. "I'm serious, Y/n. You're not regressing, are you?"
Oh, absolutely. I absolutely definitely am regressing.
"No," I sternly lied. Amelia grabbed a piece of the muffin her father had cut up for her and stuffed it into her mouth. "I've just had a bad couple of nights, that's all. I'm seeing my therapist next week."
Matt relaxed, but only barely. He caught his daughter's outstretched hand from across the table and jiggled it with a beaming grin.
"That's good," he nodded. "You're still looking for a new job, right? You remember Kev? He's looking for a personal account for his studio if you're interested." Matt paused to wipe some butter off of Amelia's chin. "I'm glad you didn't take that one at Freddy's. Would've been stupid."
"Yeah," I agreed as I took a sip of my coffee. Guilt had seemingly become a permanent fixture of my psyche these days. "Stupid."

"Did you hear about that missing kid?" Matt asked as our ordered lunch was brought out for us and set on the table. We thanked the waiter before Matt jumped back into directing the conversation. "Just down the road, there one minute and gone the next. Parents looked away for one second."
I felt a shiver roll down my spine. My hold over Amelia tightened.
"That's disgusting," I said. "Who could do that? Poor kid."
"Some people." Matt shook his head. "Absolutely crazy, I tell you. It's definitely got Alice panicked, though. Won't let Amelia out of her sight - it was a mission to bring her out to lunch as is."
I smiled small at the mention of Matt's wife, my sister-in-law. She'd been an avid supporter while I was struggling and I'd adored her ever since. She was gentle and down-to-Earth, though fiercely protective of her toddler. She put the bear in mumma bear.
Freddy, my mind supplied. You need to apologise to Freddy.
I pushed the thought of him out of my head.
"How is she?" I asked. Amelia had turned in my hold and was playing with my locket, opening and closing the clasp. I did my best not to look at the picture inside and prayed that Matt wouldn't notice who was saved there.
"Stressed," my brother sighed. "Work's been pushing her ever since that other broker left."

  The conversation continued over lunch, taking turns and twists as we caught up. And while it was really nice to finally hang out with my brother again, I couldn't shake the looming shadow of guilt that had me feeling like shit. Both for Freddy and for keeping Matt in the dark about me working at the Pizzaplex.
  Maybe if I just didn't care so goddamn much, then it wouldn't be this difficult.
  I bade my farewells to my brother and gave Amelia a smothering hug as she giggled hysterically.
  On the way back home, I played out the scenarios of me finally telling Matt about my new place of work. Not one of them ended well.
  Cat Mike gave me a judgemental stare from the couch when I walked in through the front door, as if he could pick out all my failures and sins and guilts. I shot him an equally disgruntled glare back.

  "What do you want?" I asked. The tabby's response was nothing but an irritated flick of his tail.

⚡️🧸🤖🧸⚡️

  Friday morning rolled around and I was both anticipating and apprehensive of finally returning to work after my blow-up.

  I trusted Monty not to tell anyone about my slip and he, in turn, promised to keep an ear out in case Freddy mentioned anything. I doubted that he would. He was too good to talk smack, even unintentionally.
He's certainly far better than me.
  I walked in through the Pizzaplex's entrance and empty lobby, trying my best to ignore the ache that blossomed when I was greeted with nothing but the silence of the not-yet-opened complex. I went up to Faz-Pad, ordered my coffee through the staff bot, and watched the desolate lobby filled with nobody other than the occasional employee as I waited.
  I wondered if Freddy came into Faz-Pad himself to order the coffee when he did get it for me, or if he used that fancy processor of his to access the system and order it remotely. I wondered what IT thought of Freddy suddenly ordering near-daily coffees, and if they kept track of his non-purchases.
  I dropped my chin onto my arms as my mind unwillingly reminded me of the very real hurt on his face after I had yelled at him. I can't believe I fucked up that badly.
  If somebody I liked yelled at me like that, I would've been crushed. I would've wanted the earth to swallow me whole.
  If Michael had yelled at me like how I did Freddy, I don't think I would've been able to recover.

  I fiddled with my locket as I sat there, deep in thought. I didn't dare open it again after Amelia had played with it. I was surprised that it could still be opened at all, sure that the years of misuse would've done something horrible to the fragile little hinge of the door. It being stuck for good would've been for the better.
  When the staff bot rolled over with my steaming coffee in hand, I steeled myself, pulled up my big girl panties and took the elevator up to Rockstar Row.
  The handlers weren't in yet, due to arrive on the next hour at eight. The Glamrocks should've been in their green rooms, and I aimed to rip the bandaid off and apologise to Freddy before I could chicken out and panic. It was what he deserved, pride or no, dignity or no. I was clearly in the wrong and I couldn't let my anxiety dictate the outcome.
  I peered in through the glass. His room was empty.
  Bonnie waved at me with a little grin when I approached his room. He poked his head out of the door.
  "Mornin,' champ!" he greeted chirpily. "How's it hangin?'"
  "Morning, Bon," I replied with a stressful kind of smile. His face dropped a little at the tension on my own. "Have you seen Freddy? I really need to speak to him."

  Bonnie's ears twitched as they wilted a tad. His pink eyes darted to the side.
  "Oh, yeah..." he murmured, suddenly awkward. I had an awful feeling that Bonnie knew about what happened. "He's uh... not here at the moment."
  "I... am aware of that one, buddy," I said slowly, hesitantly. "Do you know where he is?"
"... no," Bonnie answered. I felt my throat began to thicken; he was lying to me, and I couldn't even blame him for doing so. It was likely that Freddy didn't want to be found and Bonnie was just protecting his best friend.
"Okay," I said with a strained grin. His ears dropped further. "Thanks anyway, bunny."
"Y/n!" Bonnie called after I'd taken a few steps towards my office. I turned back at his voice. He was fidgeting with his ears, doing that little tick he did when nervous, and finally met my eyes. "You can probably catch him after the show."
I brightened, but only by a tad. I nodded in thanks.
I spent the next hour responding to emails and shifting schedules, hoping that work would make me feel less lonely and make the time go faster. It did not.
When eight rolled around, I got a call on my Faz-Watch. Dennis wanted me in his office.

"If this is about me sleeping in Freddy's room, I might just die instead," I murmured to myself.
The handlers had arrived by then, going through their morning maintenance checks. A flash of orange in Freddy's room had me abruptly halting and quickly moving to the window, but to my disappointment, I found nobody there.
I moved on with the feeling of a heavy rock in my chest.
"Good morning!" Dennis beamed as I entered his office. His usually contagious happiness bounced right off of me instead of soaking in, and I only found myself annoyed at how chipper someone could be this early.
"Good morning, Dennis," I replied politely. He was sitting at his desk, eyes occasionally glancing back to his computer's screen.
"I didn't get a chance to catch you on Tuesday," Dennis began, and I crossed my fingers that this was about anything other than what I feared. His face never betrayed anything, which was far more scarier than the opposite. "But I wanted to let you know that the anniversary event was a roaring success. The blacklight designs got brilliant reviews!"
I felt my tension ease off. Oh, thank god.
"The blacklight plush sales are through the roof, the YouTube recordings of the performances are trending - Y/n, this may have been your first event, but boy, did you blow it out of the water!" Dennis gushed. He leant back in his chair and regarded me proudly, like a successful heir to a king. "Now, I know that the event was a joint effort, but it was the blacklight idea from you that got the CEO's applause. You should be very, very proud of yourself for utilising it in such a way."

I certainly wasn't expecting this much praise. A timid smile pulled at my lips.
"... thank you, sir," I replied. My smile fell as I thought back to that month of straight planning on top of running the Pizzaplex as normal.
Freddy had been there every step of the way for me, as Dennis had instructed, but he did so much more than just guide me. He held my hand when I got overwhelmed and was someone to bounce ideas off of when I was feeling burnt out.
I missed him.
"But it was Freddy who kept me from going under," I said. "I doubt I would've been as sane if it weren't for him."
Dennis hummed in giddy agreement and nodded.
"He's a one in a million, that bear," he sighed. "Speaking of Freddy-"
Fuck.
"- he's been off for the past two days."
Double fuck.
"I'm still not sure what's giving him these mood swings," Dennis admitted with a worried frown. It's me. I'm the problem. "But I was thinking that maybe he just needs more mental stimulation. He's a very smart robot, after all, and maybe the stuff we're letting the band have access to overnight just isn't cutting it, anymore."
"... oh?" I said nervously.

"I want to give you a task," Dennis said as his face quickly twisted into a smile once more. I swore I got whiplash from his change in mood. "I want you to go to each bot and handler and make a list of things they would like to do after closing. Anything from board games, to movies, to... you know, anything! But we're not getting Chica a cat. Bonnie's terrified of them."
My head tilted. "Bonnie's terrified of cats?"
"Something to do with primal coding," Dennis waved off. "Makes them a little bit more like their real-life animal counterparts. Anyway, you have until the end of next week to come back with a list of ideas that I'll go through and approve what I can. After that, it's all on you. You up for it?"
I wanted to weep in relief. He didn't know about me drunkenly crashing in Freddy's room or about it being my fault that he was in a state to begin with. I'd probably get promptly fired if he did, no matter how much Joey claimed that Freddy liked me too much for Dennis to let me go.
"Yes, sir," I nodded. Dennis clapped his hands in excitement.
"Great!" he beamed. "You get on that, then. The first show for today will be on in fifteen, so you go do what you gotta do."
I left Dennis' office with a loaded sigh and just a sliver of hope in my chest - the night shifts had gotten boring very fast, with the bots not having much to do aside from watching knockoff movies or playing their instruments. A little diversity would be nice.

Now, all I had to do was apologise to Freddy. Hopefully he could forgive me. I'd hate to ruin our friendship; I didn't realise how much I cherished it until he wasn't by my side.
Even if he is a replacement for Michael?
He's not a replacement.
You called him Michael. That must mean something.
"Shut up," I told the pesky thoughts in my head as I walked through the empty utility tunnels towards the bottom of the stage.
"Y/n, thank god you're here." Mandy immediately dashed to my side when I entered the room. Her voice was hushed and strained with anxiety. "It's Freddy, nobody knows what's gotten into him, but he's, like... depressed, or something."
Sucker punched. I was sucker punched. Straight through the chest and left to bleed out like a common pest.
"It's not noticeable," Mandy continued, unaware of the pale sheen my face had gone. "You know, aside from staff. But he's been avoiding employees and he missed a cue at last night's performance. He never misses cues."
Well, you've done it, Y/n. You yelled at Freddy so badly that he got depressed and broke. Good job.
"He likes you," Mandy said. Probably not anymore. "Can you give him one of your pep talks? Call him handsome? That's what worked before, right?"

My cheeks flushed at the memory of my slip. Mandy was right, it did work, but that was back when he hadn't been verbally abused by me. I doubted that it would work now.
"Please, Y/n," Mandy whispered when she saw the doubtful look on my face. "You're our only option right now."
"I'll try," I said with a sigh as I caved under her whims. Freddy was standing, watching quietly as Bonnie and Joey joked around. It seemed as though they were trying to cheer him up, but to no avail. "No promises. I'm probably not the person he wants to see right now."
Mandy frowned but didn't pry, silently allowing me time to muster up the bare scraps of my courage that I had left and pile it into something coherent. She moved off to catch up with Joey, who'd pulled away from the robots with a worried look Mandy's way.
Fuuuuck. I should've just ran after Freddy that Tuesday. I should've caught up with him and apologised immediately, instead of crawling away to hide like a wounded coward. The words I'd used would've had time to fester, to bulge horrifically and grow grotesque during those two days while I was away, withering in misery at myself.
Bonnie noticed my reluctant but determined approach first. His eyes widened over Freddy's shoulder and he peeled away to follow after Joey.

"Hey, handsome."

His stumpy little tail wagged once, twice, before coming to an abrupt and forced stop. My tongue grew heavy as I stared up at the back of his head. What do I say? How do you apologise and make amends to a robot who's just as sentient as yourself?
We had thirty seconds.
"Freddy, can we talk after the show?" He didn't look at me. It felt as though his back were a brick wall, and all I was doing was speaking to nothing. "Please?"
Fifteen seconds.
"I'm sorry," I tried, and even I sounded desperate to myself. "I'm sorry."
Ten.
His blue eyes finally glanced over his shoulder. They were darkened, shadowed, hurt. My stomach twisted at the look on his face - I caused that. That was all me.
"I am, too," he murmured.
I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. I was stunned to silence from those three simple words Freddy spoke, tinged and coloured with pain and a certain dullness that made my mouth feel dusty.
What would he be sorry about?
And then time ran out. Freddy's eyes tore away and I felt my heart shatter further as they did. He picked up his mic stand and followed the others onto the platform.
"Did it work?" Mandy asked when she reappeared at my side. "Is he feeling better?"
His sullen eyes caught mine as the platform rose. He disappeared onto the stage.

"No, Mandy," I sighed in defeat. "I really don't think so."

⚡️🧸🤖🧸⚡️

I could see what Dennis and Mandy meant about Freddy being down.

He still performed wonderfully (I don't think there ever was a time where Freddy didn't perform wonderfully). He still laughed with the crowd, still bantered with his bandmates between songs. But there was a certain drag to his footsteps during choreography, a certain forcefulness to his smile, a subtle hint of despondency to the way he sang.
The romantic ballad, now part of the daily set due to its success over the weekend, sounded dead.
Can you get sued for emotionally damaging a Fazbear Entertainment's robot?
I found myself waiting underneath the stage when the end of the show drew near. Freddy sailed smoothly past before I could even suck in a breath to say something. Monty sent me a pitiful look as I stared at the ceiling and willed myself not to cry. He patted my shoulder on his way out.
"Good show, Freddy!" Mandy complimented nervously. The smile he sent her was warm, polite, normal.
"Thank you, Mandy."
I stared at them enviously as I followed, but ultimately knew that I deserved this cold shoulder treatment. In fact, I was inclined to believe that I deserved much worse.
But Freddy still deserved his apology (a proper one, not that pathetic excuse of an 'I'm sorry' that I gave him before the show) and boy, did my stubbornness outweigh my hurt. Mandy left to go on her lunch break and I sailed after the bear now that he was alone upon breaching Rockstar Row.

"Freddy!" I called, pacing up to him in a short jog. His pace increased upon hearing me. "Hey, Freddy!"
  The motherfucker was speedwalking to get away from me. I was gobsmacked, worried and admittedly very amused. Who knew that Freddy Fazbear sulked?
  "Oh, for god's-" I huffed and broke into a sprint across the floor. I was going to apologise to him even if it killed me. "OI!"
  Freddy glanced over his shoulder and his eyes widened at the sight of me racing hellbent towards him. He quickly swung into a set of doors that lead back into the utility tunnels. I groaned and quickly made my way through after him - he was trying to lose me in the maze of the labyrinth that snaked through the walls of the complex.
  Unfortunately for him, they echoed, and his footsteps were loud. I was also much more faster and nimble than he was. 
  "Hey!" I snapped as I grabbed his hand and tried to get him to stop. He just kept walking, uninterrupted, as if I wasn't even there. My shoes skidded helplessly across the concrete. "Oh, my god- dude, please-"
  "You said that you did not want me to be around you," he murmured, and then played a recording of what I had yelled at him on Tuesday. "You said that I was overbearing and annoying."
  I winced at the harsh tone of my own voice and the lack of emotion in his. He saved that?
  "Oh, Freddy-"
  "I am simply doing as ordered," Freddy said coolly as he continued to unwillingly drag me to god-knows-where. "I am, after all, designed to follow orders. I'm just a robot."

  Another zinger thrown right back at my face. He really knew how to amplify my guilt and it was revenge well warranted.
  "I'm sorry!" I cried as I let go of his hand. "I'm so sorry, Freddy."
  The thudding echoing of his footsteps slowed to a cease as he halted. His ears flicked back to me, the only sign that he was listening.
  "I had no right to say those things," I continued. He slowly turned his head, hesitantly eyeing me as if I would sprout more insults at his face. His blue optics glowed in the darkness of the tunnels. "I just got stressed about..." I awkwardly gestured between us and his gaze fell away. "All this. And... you remind me of someone who once hurt me pretty badly. So I panicked."
Freddy's ears swivelled back.
"But that's not an excuse to how I treated you." I risked a few steps forward. He remained still, allowing my approach. "You're not overbearing. You're not annoying. You're sweet, and you're kind, and you look out for me when nobody else really does. I took you for granted."
  His gaze slowly rose. I offered him the softest, warmest, most genuine smile that I could. It was my sincere apology on a silver platter.
  "You are far more than just a robot," I said. "I'm so sorry I ever said that."

  Freddy was silent. My apology hung in the space between us, hovering like white flag, or an extended hand. I hoped he'd take it.
  "... say that again."
  I blinked, only-half expecting a reply but least of all expecting that kind of reply. I tilted my head and cycled back through what I had spoken.
  "I'm sorry I said that?" I repeated unsurely. His eyes, lidded in an emotion I couldn't quite place, stared at the ground.
  "No..." Freddy murmured. His fingers curled into his palms. "Before that."
  My confusion grew. "You're more than just a robot?"
  His head lowered as he revelled in my words, looking as if he were soaking in them like sweet chocolate. I hovered awkwardly, not expecting him to react so strongly. The quiet was near-deafening.
  Freddy suddenly turned on his feet and swallowed the small gap between us in nothing more than a single step. I didn't have time to scramble back to keep our own seperate bubbles of personal space, but I don't think that's what Freddy would've wanted, anyway.
  One cold, metal hand held the dip of my waist. The other found my cheek. I stilled while a vapid sense of fear and intense curiosity twisted violently in my chest - what was he doing?
He was so large, too, towering over me like a god, swamping me like a mouse to a giant. I was entirely consumed.

  And his eyes - his eyes, they stared at me in a way I hadn't been stared at in a long, long time. Saw through me in a way that I hadn't been for a long time. I was dissected and puzzled back together.
He could count my whims on one hand and my dreams on the other.
  I felt seen, truly.

  I think I was beginning to see him, too.

Freddy's paw cushioned against the skin of my cheek, soft on soft, giving in both. His cradle could wrap around half of my head, and yet I didn't feel caged. Something about his sincerity made me trust him, as much as I knew I shouldn't.
"Do you mean that?" His questioning voice was low, quiet. It rolled through the silence like grassy knolls on the horizon, or gentle swells over the ocean. Meant for no ears but mine, his voice was both a thunderstorm and a blue sky.
"Yes," I replied, and it came out as an unsupported breath that fogged the air between us. The closeness was unnerving, it had my skin clammy and prickling, but I found myself enjoying the proximity. How long had it been since someone held me like this?
I had to crane my neck so I can stare him in the eyes, but then he knelt and pressed his muzzle into the hair atop my head. The ache eased. My eyes fluttered.
His faux breathing was warm and it fluttered my baby hairs with how it disturbed the stale air of the utility tunnel. His hand on my hip spread a liquid wildfire across my nerves. The palm on my cheek had begun to warm. My arms hung uselessly.
"... thank you, superstar," he murmured, and his voice traversed through my body down to the floor.
My eyes shot open.

Superstar. Superstar. Freddy's voice became Michael's as it looped in my head like a personal degree of torture, forcing me down to listen on repeat. Whatever warmth I felt was swiftly washed away and left me feeling sick instead.
"Don't call me that," I said quietly. My voice caught. "... please."
Freddy's muzzle lifted from my head, easing its slight weight off and dropping his chin to lock stares in favour. There was so much going on behind his eyes that I got dizzy just trying to keep up.
"Whatever you ask-" his thumb brushed a circle on my cheek "- it's yours."
Oh, fuck. Okay. My stomach twisted again, but not in the sick way it had been for the past couple of weeks. It was more so a warm, fluttery sensation, one that I was so sure I wouldn't feel again. I could feel all the blood rush to my head.
I slowly detangled myself from Freddy's hold with an embarrassed smile. I should definitely not be feeling those things about a robot.
"We should probably head back," I said with a thumb pointed over my shoulder. "Mandy's probably looking for us."
"Ah." Freddy rose to his feet and his lingering hands finally slid from my body. "Right."

I nodded again, more awkward the longer I thought about the lingering sensation of his touch on my hip and cheek, and followed after him down the utility tunnels.
I stared at Freddy as I trailed after him.
"You will be returning tonight for the overnight shift, correct?" Freddy asked. My reply was a strained 'mhmm.' He glanced back at me with a friendly smile. "I will meet you at the entrance."
My chest warmed. A smile crept over my lips.
"Okay."
"I will see you then," Freddy said as he held the door to Rockstar Row open. I passed through it with a grateful nod. We had to go in our seperate directions - him to his green room, where some kids were already beginning to line up for signatures and where Mandy was biting her nails. Me, to my office to make sure I didn't miss any important emails while having my heart-to-heart with the main star.
"Oh, Y/n, make sure that you don't eat too much before you arrive," Freddy warned before hurrying over to his post. I stared after him, baffled.
"Wait, what? What do you mean?" I called after him, but he was already too far gone down the lane. "Freddy!"

I dropped my head back with a groan.
"Never any straight answers around here," I grumbled.

⚡️🧸🤖🧸⚡️

The reason why Freddy warned me about not eating too much before my shift was that Chica wanted to spend half of the night baking pizzas with me.
I, of course, happily agreed.

Freddy had greeted me at the complex's entrance with a coffee in hand so I could attempt to outlast the night. He held it out for me with a pleasant greeting and I smiled brightly in return.
  "How was your rest?" Freddy asked as I took a careful sip of the hot drink.
  "Could've been better, but I'll live," I admitted. I'd spent my ten hours break tossing and turning in bed, overthinking the way I reacted to Freddy's touch and words.
  There was something so familiar about them. I pegged it to simply being acts of affection that I felt off about because it'd been so long since Michael. 
  "There you are, chickpea!" Chica burst as soon as the elevator opened. I flinched back but didn't have time to be surprised, as she swept me into her arms for a firm, gentle hug.
  "Oh!" I gasped as my feet left the ground. Freddy plucked the coffee from my hand before it could spill. "H- hey, hi! Hi, Chica!"
  "I'm so excited!" Chica gushed as she gleefully spun us around. "I love cooking with friends! Don't you?"
  I laughed at her enthusiasm and patted her back. "It's been a while, honestly."
  "Gasp!" she cried and placed me back on my feet with wide, blue eyes. "Then we have to make it the best cooking with friends night ever!"
  "I'm ready when you are," I giggled.

  Chica squealed in delight and dashed off to fetch Roxy. Freddy handed the coffee back to me. I took another sip and relaxed at the warmth.
  "I hope you have fun with Roxy and Chica," he said with a smile. My brow puckered.
  "You're not joining?"
  Freddy faltered, smile dropping unsurely.
"I... assumed that you wouldn't-"
  "Join us," I ordered with a smile and a nudge to his side. His smile returned, softer.
  "If you insist."
Chica returned, pulling a scowling Roxy along with her. It seemed that the chicken was by far stronger, as no matter how much Roxy dug her heels in, Chica still managed to drag her along without a hitch.
"I'm only doing this because you begged," Roxy grumbled. Chica was brightly beaming and happily bounding towards us, ignoring her capture's negativity. Roxy eyed the small gap between Freddy and I with a harsh stare.
"Let's go!" Chica exclaimed.
"Where are Bonnie and Monty?" I asked Freddy as the girls trailed ahead of us on our route towards the mazercise kitchens. Chica was yapping non-stop and Roxy was answering with groans and huffs.

"Monty likes to have the occasional night to himself," Freddy answered. The neon lights casted prettily over his face as we passed through the atrium, a different colour every time. "I imagine that he will be trying to improve his scores on the arcade games. He is very skilled at them."
I pictured Monty's towering frame hunched over a small arcade unit and smiled. I didn't realise he liked retro gaming.
"Bonnie decided to take this night to polish the bowling balls and the lanes at his patron area," Freddy continued. He fixed me with a serious look. "He can be quite particular about the cleanliness of Bonnie Bowl."
  I snickered. "I didn't take him for a clean freak."
  "Not many people do."
I caught Roxy's eyes. She was glaring over her shoulder at me in that dry sort of way. Not malicious, hateful or cruel, but rather wary in favour. Her yellow eyes jumped to Freddy, who had caught her gaze in turn, before flitting back to a blabbering Chica.
Freddy released a weary sigh.

Chica insisted that I played some of my 'human music' from my phone while we made pizzas. It was Freddy's job to toss the dough, Roxy's to slather it with sauce and Chica would guide me with what toppings were, in her own opinion, the best. No matter what she said though, I stayed far away from the 'not-meat.' I didn't trust that at all.
"You can taste?" I asked in awe after hearing Chica list off her favourite types of pizza. She nodded.
"Yes!" she chirped. "We all can!"
"Wow," I said as we placed some cheese onto the current monstrosity. "That's incredible."
"We have stimulant and pressure sensors on our shells, too," Roxy informed, who'd reluctantly entered the conversation while painting the next base in pizza sauce. "So we know when kids are climbing on us, or catching our tails or whatever."
"Amazing," I breathed. I caught her gaze. "You're so cool."
Roxy's tail puffed at my praise and she quickly turned away. My attention shifted to Freddy, who was tossing the dough into the air with an ease that told me he helped Chica out like this regularly.
I smiled at him when he caught my gaze. The dough dropped on his face.
If robots could blush, I was sure that Freddy was by the way he scrambled to remove the mixture from his face and avoided my eyes. I snickered at his flustered movements.

  Watching Chica eat was both intriguing and horrifying. I felt as if I were watching her engage in something that I really shouldn't allow her to, because surely all that organic gunk couldn't be good for her intricate insides, but she was so happy to indulge in her three (three!) pizzas that I didn't have it in me to tell her no.
  Roxy picked at her own slice before finally relinquishing it to an overeager Chica. Freddy handed me his.
  It was two in the morning by the time the bots needed to recharge, so I bid them a brief adieu and retrieved my heavy-duty flashlight that I had brought from home and stored in my office.
  It was Michael's one from when he used to investigate the old locations, packed away for years. It had his history all over it; old fingerprints on the shiny coating to dings and scratches from being dropped. My hand fitted around the steel pole of its neck. My fingers rested in the larger marks of his own.
  Dennis had told me that there were no human security guards stationed for that night - instead, the security staff bots would report to me if they stumbled into something. But that's not what mattered.
  What mattered was that having the complex to my own presented me with a decadent opportunity; to explore the bowels of the Pizzaplex. To look for any hints of suspicion that this cursed place had anything to do with that missing kid Matt told me about.

  Missing kids were the usual for Freddy's, after all.

  I pushed past the utility tunnel doors before I could talk myself out of it and perused down the labyrinth halls that I hadn't had a chance to explore. My flashlight produced a brilliant circle of light in front of me, flooding the tunnel in intense illumination and letting me see every possible secret it could hold.
  The further I went in, the deeper I explored these desolate places, the more junk and forgotten treasures laid in piles. A couple of rats darted in front of me, producing long shadows, and I sharply gasped. I didn't trust this place to let me scream.
Piles of discarded staff bots had collapsed haphazardly, as if it were less expensive to bring in a brand new one from the warehouse factory rather than repair it. Faded posters stuck to the walls in varying states of decay.
  A chill had me pulling my jersey tighter around my chin. It wasn't a cold chill. It was an eerie one.
  I ducked through doors to find abandoned security stations or storage rooms. It grew more decrepit the more I moved through this wily, dilapidated space. Eerie soon turned downright disturbing.

  This had to be far more than just eight years of abandonment.
A vague sense of unease almost had me turning back, but intense curiosity pushed me forward. I followed it willingly.
  Stumbling across a set of stairs that didn't look like the same standard set that the rest of the complex had, I carefully moved down it. The old metal creaked and groaned under my weight, and I feared that it would give out at any second.
  I was presented with another hallway. This one was skinner than the rest, floored by white and black tiles. I passed by some stored endoskeletons after giving them a cautionary sweep with my light. They stood like sentries, guarding this forbidden underbelly as if to keep me from entering.
I continued on, dragging my light down cracks in plaster, over thick cobwebs that coated the ceiling above the endos.

  I missed the way an optic flickered purple.

  The ground beneath me had grown thick with dust, kicking up clouds with each step. I covered my mouth with the neck of my jersey to keep from inhaling it.
  The edge of my light circle caught on something. Narrowing my eyes, I shuffled closer and found a doorway half-concealed by a storage shelf. Tucking the light under my chin, I went to push it aside when an echoing clatter down the shadowed hallway had me jumping and dropping the light with a heavy, metal clang. It rolled along the floor, disturbing the carpet of dust, washing the hall in moving light.
  Heart in my throat and feeling illegal for making such a loud noise, I scrambled for the light. A shaky breath escaped me when my hand wrapped around the metal, warmed from my body heat, slick from the anxious sweat coating my palm. I hurriedly aimed it down the hallway.
  It caught nothing but the disturbed dust motes floating through the air. The hallway was dark from where the light could not reach.
  I inhaled deeply, an effort to soothe the volatile beat of my frightened heart.
  Every lick of self-preservation told me to return to safety, but that's not what Michael would've done. That's not what I was going to do.
  I placed the light under my chin and shoved the shelf aside. It screeched horrifically, singing a shrill scream that bounced and catapulted off the walls and down the hall. I gritted my teeth against the grating sound and with one last final push, the doorway was clear.

  I opened it with a creak of complaining, rusted hinges. I almost dropped the light at what lay beyond.

  It was a storage room covered floor to ceiling, shelving unit to bench top, every possible lick of space, by sticky notes.

  It was a sea of it, a room of nothing but multicoloured squares of paper. I shone the light onto the ones closest to me and found them blank, only the occasional one marred by pencil.
Hide. Help. Run.
  "What the fuck," I whispered. Another was covered in binary code that didn't fit the entire message. "What the fuck."
  Something that I swore sounded like a footstep echoed from the other end of the room and I was suddenly consumed by the feeling of being watched. The back of my neck was prickling, my hair was on end, and the darkness that had consumed this entire forgotten underbelly felt like it was beginning to drain the very life force from me.
  Throat dry, I aimed my light across the room. More paper notes coated the wall. Nobody was there.
  Who would be? Who else would be down there? Maybe whoever did this to the room.
  Shakily returning the light back to the paper notes, I scanned it for more obscure messages. It had to be the scrawlings of somebody out of their mind. But who made them?
  A metallic clang in the distance made me flinch. I convinced myself that it was just the building settling.
Grown-ups only. Hide. Who am I? Family friendly. Hide. Run.
  They didn't even make any sense. My light scanned the others that were in reading distance.
Run. Run. Hide.

1983.

  I felt my entire body run still. 1983. That year was stuck to me, branded on the inside of my skull. The crude drawing of a little kid with a bloody head beneath the year only confirmed the semblance.
  It was a reference to Evan Afton.
  I stared at it with a heavy chest, head racing but laden with grief. Why did this note reference the youngest Afton? Why did it reference his death? It happened so long ago, who else here knew about it?
  I knelt down and peered at it closer. It looked messy, like it was either drawn by a careless child or an unstable adult. I shuffled across the floor of paper closer. Something about the handwriting seemed familiar...

  A voice whispered in my ear.
  "Run."

  I shrieked, slipping over the loose notes and taking a tumble in my effort to scramble away from whatever just made that noise. I whipped the light around wildly, finding only more notes, surrounded by them, encompassed.
  "Run," the whispering voice demanded. It was stronger now, a little girl's, more grounded in some strange form of reality. "Now. Run."
  Heart racing, I plucked the sticky note with Evan on it and stuffed it in my pocket. My light found the entrance. Purple eyes found me back.
  The endos.
  The endos.
  The sentries I'd passed by, online now and staring me down with unusual purple optics. I felt myself still. My heavy breathing filled the silence.
  "Too late," the voice whispered, curling through my hair and into my ear. It sounded somber, sad, but not like it was surprised. It was as if it had been dealt with so many failures that all it could feel now was remorse.
  "What?" I breathed, shaken beyond logic. Frightened so much that it didn't matter if I was talking to a voice that wasn't really there. Maybe this was the voice of that kid that went missing, their restless soul haunting this room of sticky notes. My light slid down, landing at the feet of the endoskeletons. "What do you mean?"

  She didn't have to answer. The endos, only momentarily frozen, had already lunged.