Pastel Goth
••• Dark Beach •••

talk to me as i am sleeping

hold me while i'm dreaming

honestly, i could just breathe you in

•••••

Artist: Yeet_Flan

Artist: zekudoge

Artist: BoyMarcel98

Artist: werifesteria

TW/ bite of '83 more like the bite of '22 ahaa

  "Okay. I have everything you said. Now you just need to connect my laptop to the wifi."

  Three different wires connected from my laptop to the out-of-date projector that was used in the theatre beside the daycare. I had smuggled the tech into the Pizzaplex with a very non-conspicuous duffel bag when I arrived for my nightshift, intent on finally giving the bots something seasoned to watch.

  "What's in the bag?" Dennis had asked when I'd just so unluckily crossed paths with him on his way out. I stiffened before the general manager, eyes wide in panic.

  "I..." I began slowly, frantically searching for a reasonable excuse that he wouldn't question, "... am... on my period. I'm on my period."

  God speed that Dennis grew up in a time where men didn't learn shit about human biology, because all he did was pull an apologetic look and sympathetically pat my shoulder.

  "I'm sorry," he had said sincerely. "I hope you get better soon."

  My brows knitted at his odd reply. "Uh... thanks?"

  If Dennis caught me with all these illegal goods that I snuck in under his nose, he'd be so disappointed in me. The things I did for the bots. And Michael. Mainly Michael.

  The bottom of Freddy's chin had been resting atop my head for the better half of the past five minutes while I figured out what cables plugged in where. I wasn't even sure if Michael was listening to me anymore. I'm pretty sure he was dozing.

  I turned on my phone's selfie camera and lifted it to his face, peering at the screen.

  "What are you doing?" Michael asked when his half-lidded eyes found his own.

  "Just checking to make sure you're not asleep."

  "I can't sleep."

  "Like that'd stop you," I pointed out. I turned on my seat, making him pull his chin from my head with a grumble from the depths of his throat. He blinked at my large grin. "Ready for Star Wars, you big nerd?"

  Now that he was finally being confronted with his one true love, Michael sat up straighter. His ears perked. His eyes shone with excitement. The look he sent me was earnest enough to make my smile turn amused in surprise.

  "I possessed this body ready for Star Wars," Michael said seriously.

  "It's sad that I can wholeheartedly believe that," I hummed. Michael ignored my remark, too busy hacking into the Pizzaplex's wifi with fingers that should've been too large for my laptop's keyboard. He succeeded with a proud beam my way and I had to roll my eyes at him. "Alright. Use your fancy computer brain to call the others in."

  Michael eagerly did as told and soon after, the rest of the band, the daycare attendant and even Manny and his little counterpart arrived. I wasn't aware he wanted them along, too. The attendant and Manny usually spent their downtime together rather than with the band.

  I raised a brow at the big bear after watching them file into the theatre from our tall perch inside the projector's little room.

  "I wanted to show them, too," he sheepishly answered with a tap of his fingers. I shook my head with a snicker.

  After turning on the projector, pulling up Star Wars and clambering down the tall employees-only staircase, we joined the others. Sun scooped me into a hug with a happily little squeal before I could begin to greet the others. Manny made his hello known with a fist-bump with one hand and a two-fingered salute with another.

  Michael ignored everyone else and took a spot in the middle of the room, watching the intro to his favourite film with wide, wide eyes. Monty took me aside with a hand to my elbow while the others found their seats.

  "How're things goin'?" Monty asked quietly. He cast a look at Michael who was in a near catatonic  state as he watched the screen. "He's... bein' polite, n' everythin'?"

  At my bewildered look, Monty pulled a scowl.

  "I ain't gotta clue on how relationships work, okay!" he defended. "Is th' bastard bein' good or not?"

  "Sorry, it's just-" I hid a snort with the back of my hand. "You sound like a worried parent."

  Monty's face folded in disgust. He pushed me away with a sound akin to a cat throwing up a hair ball and clenched his fists.

  "Don' be fuckin' stupid!" he snapped. "So is he behavin'?!"

  I giggled. "Yes, Mont, he's behaving."

  The gator gave a sharp, short huff of satisfaction and nodded. He glanced at the screen and stared at it for a second before frowning.

  "Is that a spaceship?" he grunted. When I nodded, he groaned. "I hate space movies."

  I gave him a tempting smile. "I bet you'll like this one. This is the space movie that fathered all of cinema as we know it."

  Monty's narrowed gaze slid back to me, doubtful at my glowing testimony. He gave a dramatic kind of sigh, as if the idea of watching Star Wars was physically demanding, and dragged his feet over to where Bonnie and Roxy were sharing an oversized bean bag.

  I glanced over the line of bots sitting before the screen with a content smile. Chica was sitting beside Sun and the two seemed to be avidly commentating their thoughts of the film so far to one another. Manny and his little counterpart were watching quietly, nestled on his large hands like they were a bed. Monty had forced his way in between Roxy and Bonnie, who began to loudly complain at the gator's unceremonious breach of personal space.

  And Michael, engrossed, adoring Michael, sat in the middle of them all with his jaw slack in nostalgic amazement. The sight brought a smile to my face. The Fazbear robots might not have been the family we expected, but I found myself grateful for them all the same.

  Pleasantly surprised by the thought of the bots being our family (or rather, them bringing me into their family), I sighed, before heading over to steal a spot beside Michael. He finally tore his gaze from the screen and set me with a warm look when I wriggled into the gap between his side and his arm.

  "Hi," he whispered.

"Hey," I giddily replied.

"You think they're enjoying it?"

"Those two definitely are." I nodded towards Sun and Chica, who were still animatedly commentating their thoughts to one another. "Manny, too, I think."

I glanced to the other side of the room where Bonnie looked confused, and Monty and Roxy were watching the film with morbidly serious expressions.

"I can never tell with them," I confessed. Michael shifted beside me and I looked up to find him with a nervous expression. My brows raised. "Are you okay?"

  "I want them to like it," he worriedly murmured. "I want them to think I like cool things."

  Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Don't fucking laugh. I sucked my lips around my teeth to bite them shut and watched as Luke Skywalker got trained by Yoda. That was such a dad thing to say. Ever since I arrived, I noticed him saying dad-like things. It was so adorably lame.

  "Are you making fun of me?" he accused.

Clearly, my poker face didn't fool him. A single, traitorous laugh slipped from my lips before I could clap my hands over my mouth.

  "No!" I squeaked with a frantic shake of my head. "No. No, I'm not."

  He was rightfully unconvinced by the bemused turn of my lips and returned my struggle for a blank expression with a dry, unimpressed look. It was the challenge of a stare-off.

  I lost miserably, failing to keep my composure; a loud snort ripped from my nose and I squeezed my hand tighter over my mouth with a gasp. Michael gave a shameless laugh at my skyrocketing embarrassment. He pressed his muzzle to the top of my head while I tried to hide my face in my knees.

  "Cute," came his affectionate grumble.

  "Shut up," I groaned, feeling the stares of the others. "You oversized teddy bear."

  My insult did not have the desired effect. Michael simply scooped me up like I was the teddy bear, and kept me huddled on his lap for the remainder of the film.

"What did you think?" Michael eagerly asked once the credits began to roll. Manny signed something supportive with his hands which pleased Michael. Monty grunted, which was the best we'd ever get out of him. Chica and Sun began stumbling over themselves as they tried their best to recount every single thought they had during the film.

Roxy only had one word; "cool."

"It's okay," Bonnie said with a noncommittal shrug when the bear turned to him. I listened in on the conversation while I disconnected my laptop from the projector. "It was pretty basic, though, wasn't it?"

Michael looked absolutely distraught when I pattered down the stairs, duffle bag over my shoulder. "But it's a pioneer film of cinema history..." he said dejectedly.

  Bonnie gave a helpless shrug. I spared Michael an amused grin.

  "It's okay," I reassured with a nudge to his side with my elbow. "They still think you're cool."

  "Never," grunted Monty as he departed the theatre.

  Roxy was at my side in the next second, hauling Chica and Sun along with her. She gave me a serious look.

  "You need to get your hair trimmed again," she informed. "You've got split ends."

  "We're having a 'girl's night!'" Sun interjected with a squeal and a jingle of his bells. "I don't know what that is, but I'm sure that it'll be fun with friends Chica and Roxy! Yes, I'm sure!"

  "Oh." I felt at my hair self-consciously as I glanced at the beaming Sun and Chica. "I didn't realise."

  "I'll come along," Michael quickly declared.

  "No," Roxy snapped. She grabbed my arm and pulled me closer towards her. I squeaked as I stumbled into her side, blinking comically. "You hog all of Y/n's time."

  If Michael was crest-fallen before, now he was downright heartbroken. He glanced between Roxy and I with great stress.

  "But..." he began helplessly. His ears folded back. "But..."

  "Come on, Rox," I tried with a pleading smile. "Can't he come with?"

  Michael's bleeding heart routine and my hopeful smile did nothing. Roxy remained steadfast, even going as far as to give Michael the stink eye.

  "No," she said firmly. Her yellow eyes sliced right through me. "You never hang out with us anymore."

  Ah. Guilt struck me a little harder than I anticipated. I suppose I had been spending all my spare time I could with Michael after we reconciled. I'd been neglecting quality time with the others.

  "Alright," I hesitantly agreed. Michael's shoulders dropped further than they already had at my decision and he looked akin to a kicked puppy. "I'll, uh..."

  I stared at him hesitantly - how do we say goodbye in front of other people, again? Do I just say it and go? Do I kiss him in farewell? On the mouth, the nose or the cheek? Would he want to be that affectionate in front of the others? The confusion was getting too much for me.

  "Bye," I said, and quickly turned on my heel with burning cheeks.

  Chica and Sun were quick to grab my hands with theirs, capturing me between the two massively tall animatronics. Sun was listening intently while Chica gave him a rundown on what a 'girl's night' entailed. Sun was getting more excited the more he learnt.

  I dropped my head in shame as we walked towards the exit. My ears felt so hot that I was sure they were going to melt right from my head.

  God, why did I have to be so awkward? It's Michael. He'd seen the worst of my worsts, the ultimate of my human flaws. Why was I so nervous around him? Was it just because I was out of practise?

  I closed my eyes in disappointment. I wouldn't know what to do if he started to think that I didn't want to be with him anymore because of my humiliating responses.

  "Wait!" Michael called. We stopped in our tracks and glanced back as he steadily approached, eyes set on me. I watched in confusion as he knelt before me and pressed his muzzle to my cheek in his semblance of a kiss. Michael stepped back with an adoring smile. "I love you."

  My heart was racing at a speed that made me lightheaded. I gave a disoriented kind of nod and listlessly mumbled my reply; "I love you, too."

  "Ugh, let's go," Roxy groaned and hooked her elbow around me. I gasped as she hauled me forward faster than my feet could catch up with. "You're both so gross."

  I glanced back at Michael, but he was already bothering Bonnie about why he thought Star Wars was so good when the bunny thought it was barely beyond mediocre. I turned my head back to the front with a content beam and caught Chica's contemplative expression.

  She blinked as our eyes caught and, nonplused towards me, turned her thoughtful gaze to Roxy. She held it on the wolf for a few seconds before dropping her attention to the floor with a frown in wonder.

  My smile slowly faded as I stared at the side of Chica's face, who was so absorbed by her own head that she didn't hear my quiet call of her name. My confusion deepened further, but before I could bring the chicken back to reality and press her for answers, Roxy spoke up.

  "I can't believe you and Freddy are seriously dating," Roxy grumbled. "Do you remember how annoying he was when you first arrived? It's worse now, Y/n. Unbreak him."

  "I don't think I can," I replied with a meek smile after slowly tearing my focus from Chica. "Sorry."

  "Are you and friend Freddy playing house?" Sun curiously asked with a spin of his faceplate. "Can I play? Oh, please! Pretty please, friend Y/n!!! I love playing games!!!!!"

  I gave Sun a smile. "If I was playing a game, you would be the first I'd ask." He giggled in utmost delight. "Freddy and I aren't playing a game. We..."

  "They're in love," Chica cut me off. Sun gasped at the news.

  "He's obsessed," Roxy corrected with a weary mutter. "He hasn't let her breathe for the past week."

  "I think that's a bit of an exaggeration," I awkwardly soothed.

  "The only time when he hasn't been around you is when you have to go to the bathroom," Roxy announced dryly. "It's obsessive, Y/n."

  "Well... when you go what he's been through, I suppose it just makes you realise how precious the little moments are," I mused. I sent Roxy a knowing look. "It's not over."

  The wolf's confused face snapped into an expression of apprehension once she realised what I was referring to. The not-Bonnie. William, most likely. She looked away, ears pinned.

  I wondered how much she knew, or how much she put two-and-two together. She knew about William caught in the springtrapped suit, she knew about him continuing his kills while in his awful monstrosity of a body. Did she guess that the not-Bonnie was him, too?

Our footsteps echoed throughout Roxy Raceway. My eyes were locked in the area of where I was sure the sinkhole was. The concrete of the cornered-off track sagged just slightly.

  "I want my nails to be painted pink!" Sun chirped, shattering the slowly rising tension as we entered the salon. "Bright pink! So bright that it glows!!! And I want glitter too, lots and lots of glitter!!!"

  Roxy shook herself out of her stupor and graced the attendant with a rare smile. "I'll see what I can do. Y/n first, though. They're the one that needs constant upkeep."

  "I didn't realise I was your pet human," I teased. She scoffed.

"Just sit in the damn chair," Roxy said, and swung the stylist seat towards me.

⚡️🧸🤖🧸⚡️

The Pizzaplex was abuzz on the next maintenance Monday. Numerous trucks were parked out the front and people were going in and out of the permanently opened front entrance, carrying boxes of various things.

I stared at the scene in groggy astonishment as I shut the door to my car. It was just barely past seven-thirty in the morning and yet the entire crowd looked to be awake and kicking. I, in contrast, was nearly falling asleep again just standing up.

I skirted around trucks and clumps of people as I walked towards the entrance, watching them curiously. What the hell was going on? Was there something planned that slipped my mind?

I watched as someone wheeled out a realistic-looking cactus prop that was twice my height. Oh. They were finally filming the Western movie today. Bonnie must be ecstatic.

The lobby was even more chaotic, with people shouting out orders and organising equipment. Freddy was in the middle of it, assisting with helping carry some of the heavier items up the steps towards the elevators. He brightened upon seeing me, lost and confused, at the entrance of what seemed to be pandemonium.

"Good morning," he greeted when I managed to squeeze my way through the crowd towards him. He was surrounded by a few starry-eyed camera technicians who were drinking in every little bit of Glamrock Freddy they could. Michael turned to the small group of people. "This is my handler, Y/n. Please refer to them if you need to know anything about the Pizzaplex or my band."

"This is crazy," I said breathlessly. I surveyed the scene with startled eyes, taking in every bit of busyness. I'd never seen the Lobby such a mess. Even Faz-Pad was too packed for me to entertain getting my usual morning coffee.

"It usually gets like this when filming commences," Michael explained. He touched my shoulder to regain my attention. "It is time for me to get ready. I put my outfit in the back room."

There was a fire to his gaze that speared me straight through my brain. He was implying something and I wracked my brain to understand what it was. The back room? Oh, the back room.

I sucked in a subtle breath. Ah. The back room.

"Yeah," I squeaked before clearing my throat and regaining a look of composure that a manger should have. Or, at least, a manager that wasn't dating their robotic-ghostly subordinate. "We should get going."

Freddy gave a professional nod, said farewell to the none-the-wiser technicians, and led the way up a section of the stairs that was unused. The back of my neck prickled as I followed him, grip clammy over my bag's strap. My throat had gone dry but I was near salivating at his intense look that had been imprinted to the underside of my eyes.

The elevator ride was the worst. Ads played in Freddy's cheery voice from the speakers overhead and peeking up at Michael gave me whiplash. He hadn't lost that intensity from before, eyes boring through the door before him. His silence was making my knees weak.

I placed my palms over my cheeks, surprised at how hot they were. My heart was pounding in my ears. A shift of metal had me looking at Michael again and found him watching me through slitted eyes. I felt myself almost black out for a fraction of a second.

He was so quick to suggest heading to the back room. How long had he been thinking about it? I hid further behind my hands, flustered so terribly that my breath had considerably shortened. I was near panting for relief.

The doors slid open and Michael beelined to his room with his hand in mine. I stumbled beside him, far less graceful, knocked by mere human misbalance. I wanted to speak but I didn't know what to say. I didn't know if I could speak in the first place - my tongue had been glued to the roof of my mouth.

We were in the green room's back storage before I knew it and I almost tumbled over a box of fabric in the darkness of it. The door slid shut with a finalising clang.

I stiffened, turning to Michael with a face that was surely steaming. His blue eyes glowed just slightly in the darkness, settled on me like I was worth stealing his entire world away. I felt clumsy and in depths I wasn't ready for, unpracticed and drowning.

"Is this okay?" he asked, voice barely over a whisper. It made my nerves spike in impatience. I nodded.

And then we were magnetised, propelled toward each other as though strings had pulled us forward. The heartbeat in my ears chorused throughout my limbs as my arms curled around his shoulders. My back arched beneath his hands. My head was spinning and imploded beneath him when he pressed his mouth to mine.

And this was a kiss. This was the type of kiss I had missed; Michael's kiss, because his were incomparable, leagues above the rest. His were a drug I fell under the influence to, time and time again, limbs shaking, blood trembling. Hot, hot, hot.

  My shortened breath caught when he seized me under my thigh and hoisted me up against his chest. My forehead tapped his with a short reprieve to regain my bearings, sharing a look so close to one another, and then we were losing ourselves again.

I missed the feeling of his kisses; the fervent butterflies, hell bent on destroying me from the inside and fluttering so fast that I was floating. So dizzy that I felt disoriented, as though the world was crumbling and reforming beneath our very feet. His kisses were a nuclear bomb on the precipice, an atomic rewrite of my soul. I had been loosened and rethreaded.

  I felt so delicate, so empowered as I succumbed beneath the waves of my prior uncertainty. I felt like a daisy with petals made of steel. I wanted to melt in his arms. I wanted to beat to death anything that so happened to inconvenience him.

  My hands draped around his head when he gave me a chance to breathe and I stared at them through blurry, delirious vision. My hands, so small in comparison, lying limply on the metal of his body. I supposed it served as a brief reminder - everything felt the same but was different, now. He was different. I was different. We'd grown older, a little wiser, a little more scarred and bruised, and yet the thing we shared remained unchanged.

  His unoccupied mouth found my neck then, and I stretched back my chin with a content sigh. The exhales of his interior fan brushed hot air against my skin and I shivered, toes curling, finding solace in the way his grip tightened over my thigh and his knuckles pressed hard between my shoulder blades.

My grip tensed when Michael dragged his tongue up my neck. My lashes fluttered. My breath stopped. I wound my legs around his waist with a slow, blissful exhale. I suppose he couldn't kiss properly, but he could still do that.

  "Angel," I whimpered, when his bottom fang caught the line of my jugular. I felt my entire skeletal body shiver.

  The old pet name slipped from my lips within a breath and I was overcome with nostalgia. How many times had it been like this? Hiding away to steal kisses, lost in each other's infatuation? How many times had I whispered that very pet name to him?

  With a cautionary peek, a blue eye finding me, he sunk his blunt fangs into the soft skin of my throat. My reaction was a tad on the side of too loud, too shrill and breathy and totally telling if someone were to pass to closely, and he bit down harder in warning, mouth oddly warm.

  I gave a needy gasp and dropped my head to his, brows knitted as I became overcome with a million different sensations that drove me to frantic overstimulation. My nails scratched along his metal body. I bit my lip to keep from whining. When was the last time I felt like this? My composure was brittle and crumbling and I was nothing more than putty in his hands.

  Michael retreated, tending to my neck with another lick that resulted in a shivery inhale and a static buzz up my spine. His blue eyes slid up to me and I glanced at him, gaze lidded and heady with content bliss. He searched my face, caught between worry and yearning.

  "Are you okay?" he asked. When I nodded, he exhaled in relief and pressed his cheek to my shoulder.

"How long had you been waiting to kiss me like that, hm?" I asked with a breathless turn of my lips. "And the bite, really, Mikey? That wasn't the way to go if you needed me to be quiet."

"Years, sweetheart," Michael murmured, ignoring my jest. "Years."

  I pressed my forehead to his in affection and brushed my thumb beneath his eye. He dug his muzzle into the crook of my shoulder in response, giving a content rumble. I couldn't put into words just how much I cherished him and it all swelled within me.

  "I have to get ready," Michael reminded. He placed me down to my feet and held my waist. A glint of a tease was evident in his eyes. "Can you stand?"

  I swatted his hand away. "Yes, I can stand."

  He chuckled. "Just checking."

  I rubbed my neck as I pulled the box of fabric towards me, eyeing its contents with pursed lips. On the top lay a Freddy-sized cowboy hat.

  "Here you are, cowboy," I grinned. Michael eyed the dark brown hat with a narrowed look my way before swapping it with his little top hat. My cheeks coloured worse as he slotted it over his head. "Well, howdy."

  "Y/n."

  "What?" I defended with a giggle. "You just gave me the robot equivalent of a hickey but I'm not allowed to appreciate you in a cowboy hat? That's double standards, Michael, I thought my mother raised you better."

  "You love digging up trouble, don't you?" he scoffed and dropped the hat atop my head. I gasped. "You're gonna dig yourself a hole one of these days and you're gonna regret falling in, love."

  "Michael," I chided, holding the brim of the oversized hat up so it wouldn't swallow my entire head. "You remember what it means to put your hat on someone else, right? You're gonna have to marry me, now."

"I do," he said simply, which was perhaps a double entendre unless I was looking too deep into the pointed expression he sent me. My smile faded and he sent me a wry smirk. "I have to keep up the cowboy etiquete, right?"

  "I s'pose," I murmured. He brought the hat back to his head and adjusted it into place. I watched his large, deft fingers move. "Don't know how you'll do it here, though."

  "I guess that'll be our next thing to tackle," he commented. He pulled up a pair of chaps from the box and gave a crooked grin. "Classy."

  I watched him awkwardly pull the chaps on with a blank stare. My mind was a mile away, missing the way he comically hopped on one foot with his leg stuck and made the ground tremble.

  "Are you being serious?" I asked.

  Michael looked up at me with innocent eyes. I stared at him, swaying slightly in disbelief. And he had said it so casually, too, making me second guess he'd said anything at all. I felt as though I had been tossed into foreign waters. Maybe that was just the slight throb of my neck.

  "About marriage?" he asked. He looked away, suddenly bashful in his stupidly cute cowboy hat. "I... want to, even if it's unofficial. We missed out before."

  I remained silent, watching him in disbelief. The idea hadn't even crossed my mind.  

  Well, I guess that was a lie. It had crossed my mind, but that was me daydreaming the impossible with Michael as he was when he was alive. I didn't think he'd want to marry like this.

  "We don't have to," he quickly backtracked upon overthinking my silence. "I was just joking around. I don't even know how long you want to stay here, so to assume is-"

  "Mike, I'm staying as long as I can," I said seriously. He faltered, panicked gaze jumping to me. "And if you want to... to get married, then fuck it, you know? Like you said, we missed out before. Let's get married."

  It was Michael's turn to be stunned stupid. He stared at me, stumped, as though his CPU was buffering. Maybe it was. Maybe my brain was buffering, too. Maybe we were both buffering and staring at each other like fools, but there was so much going on through my head that looking idiotic was the last thing on my mind.

  Michael straightened, half dressed in overzealous cowboy garb with his hat tilted just slightly, tucking a single ear down. This was probably the most informal setting to be talking about something like marriage, but then again, Mike was a ghost stuck in robot. Normalcy was long gone.

  He pulled in a deep breath and lost his astonished expression. He pulled his cowboy hat down to his chest with a stern frown.

  "Darlin'," he said, in what was probably the worst Deep South accent I had ever heard in my life. "You jus' made me the happiest cowboy in the Wild West."

  I stared at him absurdly.

  "Yeehaw," he finished, entirely stoic, and I broke down into tears.

  "You're such a dork," I bemoaned between giggles. I pinned my head between my knees in an attempt to regain my breath. He was laughing horribly loudly and absolutely at my expense, while I writhed in the after effects of dealing with whatever the fuck that was he hit me with. Leave it to him to shatter the vibe.

  "You're the one who fell in love with me," Michael smugly reminded. "And twice, for that matter."

  "Fuck you," I groaned. I snagged a lasso from the box and actually began to do my job, attaching it to the belt that came with the chaps. "This is ridiculously stereotypical."

  "I think you're just annoyed that I'm not doing something to you with the rope," he murmured. I dropped the lasso to the floor with a shitty look.

  "Fuck you," I said with more emphasis. He chuckled lightheartedly. "You can finish getting ready yourself."

  He shrugged and bent down to pick up the lasso, clipping it to his belt. The look he sent me was entirely amused as I settled down on a storage container and crossed my arms.

  "Can you pass me the shirt?" he asked, gesturing to the box beside me. I gave it a long look before turning my head back to him.

  "No," I said.

  Michael's expression dropped in humour, giving the driest look he could manage. And then an idea crossed his face, and a devious smirk took its place. My brows raised as he approached.

  "What?" I asked. He planted one fist on either side of my thighs and bent down close. I blinked, completely consumed by his shadow.

  "Can you behave, please?" he asked in a low voice. My lip twitched.

  "You think that still works on me?"

  "I know it does, beautiful," he murmured, and took one hand through my hair. I suppressed a shiver with a bite to the inside of my cheek. His dark gaze found mine. "You're going red."

  "No, I'm not," I denied, despite feeling the heat in my face myself. I pushed at his thigh with one of my shoes in an attempt to get him to leave. "Buzz off, man!"

  He chuckled something deep that made me shift and look away, frustrated by how easily he could play me. It didn't matter how long we spent apart; he knew exactly where my buttons were and which ones to press. He remembered them too well.

  Michael finished getting ready while I curled myself into a ball and mentally screamed into my knees. I cleared my throat when he was ready to go and stood, smoothing back my hair.

"After you, m'lady," he said with a tap to the rim of his hat. I quickly hurried through the door and passed a look over my neck in the vanity mirror. It was tellingly red. I zipped my jacket up to my chin and found Michael's sly look in the background of my reflection.

"You're on thin ice," I said sternly. He was unperturbed by my empty threat.

  The massive expanse of atrium was being used to film in, utilising the massive rows of catwalks on the ceiling to drape green screens from. The rest of the animatronics were there and waiting, it seemed as though Michael and I were the last ones to arrive.

  I ran my tongue over my bottom lip and prayed it wasn't swollen from earlier. I wonder why we're late.

  "There you are!" Bonnie said excitedly as he bounded up to us. He was dressed in a tall hat and had a sheriff badge on his waistcoat. "We're just about to start!"

  "Have fun, Mr. Movie Star," I said with a grin. Michael graced me with a handsome smile before following after Bonnie.

  "Mornin,'" Joey greeted with a yawn. He handed me a coffee. "Bonnie said that Freddy told him you hadn't had a coffee yet." He gave me an odd look. "Why are you wearing your jacket like that?"

  I sunk further behind the tall neckline. "No reason." I took the coffee with a thanks.

  I had no idea what the film was about, but it was something ridiculous and overwhelmingly child-friendly. The bots' lines barely sounded like organic dialogue. Chica was wearing a southern bell dress and I thought she looked adorable in it. Sun and Roxy were the resident 'bad guys.' I think Manny worked in a bank? Monty was... there, I supposed. He had a horse, or at least I think that was what the big equine-shaped prop was.

  The film schedule gave me time to finally get ahead of my emails. Other than that, there was nothing to do other than watch the filming. It was amusing, at least, though it was a struggle to keep a poker face whenever Freddy glanced my way. 

  The bots went to charge during lunch break. I was about to confide in Joey about Michael dropping the marriage bomb when we were joined by the other handlers; Drake, Gabby and Arty. I suppressed myself with a gracious smile their way and discreetly checked that the jacket was still covering my neck. Next time, Joey.

  I was even more confused about the film's plot by the time the end of the day rolled around. I think it was back to its original roots as an El Chips' commercial? But it was also a movie? A feature-length El Chips commercial? It was totally beyond me.

  "Fun?" I asked Michael when he was released.

  "Breaks the monotony," he replied with a smile during our walk back to his room. He dropped his cowboy hat onto my head again and I blushed, gripping tightly onto the brim. "Have you eaten dinner?"

  "Oh," I said from beneath the oversized front dip of the hat. "I was gonna have dinner at home-"

  Michael interrupted me with a dramatic, broken-hearted pout. I slowly backtracked.

  "... but I suppose I can eat here," I said with a suspicious gaze. He brightened considerably.

  "Great!" he chirped. "I can order it for you now."

  I rolled my eyes in good nature. "Great, angel, thanks."

  Michael didn't reach for his hat back, so I let it precariously balance on the crown of my head. Maybe I should invest in getting a cowboy hat? I thought of human Michael in a cowboy hat and lamented the fact that I never got to see it in real life. He would've rocked it.

  I sighed in relief upon reaching the privacy of Freddy's green room and unzipped the tight collar of my jacket. My neck was still red around the areas that his fangs had sunken into my skin. I made a mental reminder to bring a scarf or wear a high-necked shirt for my next shift and pulled the too-big hat from my head.

  While I was assessing the damage of my neck, Michael went right up to the security camera in the corner of his room and snapped it off from its holder. I spun around in shock.

  "Mike!"

  "Oh, no," he said apathetically as he watched the camera fall to the floor. "It broke." His gaze snapped to me. "Can we cuddle? I want cuddles."

  "Oh my god." I leant back against the vanity with a sigh and stared at the broken camera. "You could've just turned it away from the couch."

  "Probably," Michael agreed before slipping into the back room to change out of his costume. I retreated to the couch with an exasperated shake of my head.

  "I can't stay long, okay?" I said as a staff bot entered with a burrito. I began to unwrap it eagerly, glancing between it and Freddy. "The Pizzaplex closes soon."

  Michael nodded and perched on the couch across from me. He waited patiently for me to finish eating and when I did, he pulled me into his lap.

  "Hey, cowboy," I murmured as I settled into a comfortable position. He placed his chin atop my head.

  "Hi, superstar." His reply was just as soft spoken. I brought his face down for a kiss and he was all too eager to comply, closing his eyes in bliss.

"You're gonna have to get a different name for your cat," he whispered after we parted. "Can't have your cat and your husband share the same name."

I tskd. "You're not my husband yet, buddy. Mike can stay named Mike for now."

He gave a great groan of defeat and dropped his head to my shoulder. I laughed in surprise at the weight of it and almost buckled deeper into his lap.

"You're too heavy to do that," I whined, trying to shake him off.

"And now you're weight shaming me," Michael muttered. "I'm rethinking this marriage."

"God, you're still such a drama queen," I complained. "Let me digest in peace."

"Fine," he huffed. He scooped me into his arms instead and held me close to his chest. "This better?"

"Yeah," I replied with a grateful smile. His sharp, playful glare softened. "Thanks, Mikey."

"You're welcome, sweetheart," he replied, and finished it off with a donk of his muzzle to my hairline. I snickered quietly under his impression of a kiss.

We stayed like that until the first of the warnings that the Pizzaplex was closing played. I snuggled deeper into his arms, enjoying our peaceful quiet too much to move just yet. I'd move at the next warning.

Said warning came too soon. I gave a sigh and struggled to pull myself out of Freddy's arms.

"Mike," I whispered, tapping the side of his face. "I have to go. Mikey."

He tightened his hold over me. The unspoken request did not go missed.

"I have to go, Mikey," I insisted. His eyes peeled open in disappointment. "Don't give me that look. You know I can't handle that look."

He did the look, only cuter and sadder. I bit back a groan with gritted teeth. I could never say no to him.

"Fine," I snapped, much to his delight. "But this isn't going to become a common occurrence, okay? One time thing, got it?"

"Got it," he smiled happily. My sternness melted a bit at his easy glee and I dropped my shoulders with a sigh. If only he wasn't so adorable.

Michael left me to curl into the couch with a plushie as a pillow while he went to retrieve the thick blanket that he kept just for moments like these (because it was more than a one time thing, clearly). I snuggled beneath it and got comfortable, watching him cross the floor to turn off the bright lights of his room. His blue eyes, glowing in the slight darkness, found mine.

"Is this okay?"

"Yeah," I replied. I pulled the blanket up to my chin and hid half of my face beneath it.

His response was nothing more than a content smile. He took a seat at the end of the couch and relaxed, glancing at me periodically.

"Is there something you want to say?" I asked amusedly.

"Where do you want the wedding?" he asked, words slipping from his mouth now that I gave him consent to talk. "I was thinking the raceway because it's got the biggest area, but I suppose that doesn't matter when we won't really have a big guest list. Do you want guests? We can do it alone, if you want. What about rings? I can make some. Somehow. I'll figure it out. Bonnie can officiate, or maybe Mandy can take one of those online courses that the officiators in Vegas take? Then it's as offical as it can get, right?"

I stared at the ceiling as Michael rambled, splurging his ideas forth. He was so eager at the prospect of marrying me that I had to kick my feet beneath the blanket in an attack of cuteness aggression.

"Y/n?" he asked. I pulled myself up and stared at him through the darkness.

"I love you," I said. I was breathless, driven by the giddy feeling in my chest. "I love you so much. I don't care about guests. We can ask Mandy to take a course. You can make the rings if you want to but I honestly don't mind."

  "O- okay." His voice glitched, taken aback by my fierce eagerness. He grew happier, tail creaking as it wagged. "Okay! We can- we'll get married, then!"

  "Celebratory wedding after we defeat William?" I asked with a tilt of my head. Michael nodded, liking my idea. "At least that means he doesn't have to bring us a wedding gift."

  "Him finally dying would be a wedding gift enough," Michael grumbled. I snickered in agreement and settled back beneath the blanket, capturing my warmth before it could disappear.

  I fell asleep like that, curled up under the blanket with a peaceful smile as my mind ran amuck about weddings and Michael and rings on fingers. I pictured him in a tuxedo and enjoyed the mental image a little too much.

  My dream had been handed back to me on a silver platter, though some things may have changed. That didn't bother me. Any issues later on we could deal with together.

  Finally. Finally, things were looking up.

⚡️🧸🤖🧸⚡️

  I woke to the feeling of someone watching me.

  My mind sharpened too quickly, body tense beneath the blanket. The happy-go-lucky feelings from my dream slipped fast from between my fingers and I stared through my lashes at the silent darkness before me, huddled in the corner of the couch.

  I glanced around without moving, taking stock of my shadowed surroundings and wondering why I had the paralysing, ominous feeling of being spied upon. Why was it so dark?

  The back of my neck was prickling. I didn't dare breathe.

  Freddy was in his charging chamber and his eyes were shut, so it couldn't have been him. The camera was still lying pitifully on the floor, so it wasn't that. I shifted just slightly, eyes wide in the near-pitch black.

  Was there a power outage? Even with Freddy's green room lights being turned off, it wasn't this dark. The lights from the Row were always constantly on, a bright neon cacophony that illuminated through the curtains. Now the only light came from the charging unit and something red floating from beyond the gap of the closed curtains.

  I forced my body to move, swallowing back my stiffening fear. There was nothing watching me, and if there was, it was probably only Manny's little mini-me or a glitchy staff bot that had gotten confused with the power outage.

  I thought there were back up generators or something to keep this from happening? Unless all the back-up power went towards the charging units, which seemed to be the only thing still working. I wandered over to the unit and tapped my knuckles upon it to see if Michael would wake but I was met with nothing.

  I frowned. That prickling feeling still had my spine tensed. I glanced around the room, trying to spot whatever could be the cause of such a debilitating sensation. Was it a stuffed teddy facing me? No, it didn't feel like that. Then what was it?

  I forced my stiff legs to take me towards the curtains and pulled them aside.

  My next inhale choked to shuttering stop as I stared at the red lights before me. They weren't lights, they were eyes - massive, wide eyes that glowed a vicious shade of red and had thin toothpicks for pupils. They stared me down at a height a few inches taller than I was. My body was stuck still with horror as the thing's head slowly tilted to the side and waved a dainty hand.

  I found mobility again and flung the curtains back with a sob, stumbling away, heart racing. The red lights pierced through the thin material of the curtains, remaining in the exact same spot. Could it still see me? What if it went for the door? If it did then I was fucked - it was the only exit from the green room.

  My back hit something and I screamed, ducking my head beneath my hands, falling into terrified tears.

  "Y/n, Y/n!" Michael's blessed British-Utah accent pierced through my fear. My eyes shot open. His blurry visage regarded me in worry as he knelt before me. "What's wrong?"

  "Mike," I gasped in cry of relief. I leapt for him and he caught me in his arms with a baffled look. I could feel my body shaking with adrenaline. How long had it been watching me sleep? Why was it watching me sleep? What was it?

  I pointed towards the curtains and turned my head to face it. The red eyes were gone. Nothing was there. My mouth gaped in confusion.

  "It was- it was right there-" I whimpered, "I swear to god, it was right there."

  Michael seemed to understand what I was getting at between my blubbered words. He pressed his muzzle to the top of my head before standing and heading towards the door.

  "No, Mike, please," I begged. I felt dizzy with terror.

  "I'm just going to check outside. I'll be right back," he promised and stepped outside.

  I watched the doorway with wide, unblinking eyes until he returned a moment later. He was shaking his head. I felt only a little bit of relief when the door slid firmly shut behind him.

  "Whatever it was, it's gone now," Michael said solemnly. I wanted to turn to goo on the floor. I'd never felt such fear in my life and I could finally sympathise with hamsters dying of fright. He knelt before me and gently held the side of my face. "Can you tell me what you saw?"

  I turned my gaze to his. He watched me worriedly, illuminated only by his own blue synthetic irises. A sudden wave of nausea had my stomach clamping.

  "Eyes," I whispered. The dizziness was getting to me. "Massive, red eyes. It had to be a robot. It was... it was watching me sleep."

  Michael frowned in deep concentration. "Red eyes?"

  "It waved at me," I continued hollowly. "Like some sick joke." My face paled. "... was that William?"

  Michael shook his head. "That wasn't William."

  "What?"

  "William didn't look like that," Michael elaborated with a thoughtful stroke of his thumb over my cheek. "He didn't have red eyes. Are you certain it was an animatronic?"

  "I..." I shook my head unsurely. "I don't know. I was- I was so freaked out that I didn't notice. It wasn't that much taller than me. Not like you guys."

  Michael's brow furrowed in confusion. "All the endos are around the same height. There's nothing below seven feet down there."

  "... then it was a human," I murmured. His blue eyes flickered to me. "Someone in a suit?"

"We have to find out where the bodies are," Michael said gravely. I nodded.

"They have to be down there," I said. "Maybe the pit is like... a lair, of some kind. The endos really wanted me in there."

"Maybe," Michael hummed. His thumb tapped softly against my jaw as he thought. "They must be good with technology if they can control tens of endos like that. And they have to know the ins of this place, and the schedules, like what you said about Roxy."

"... then it has to be someone who works here," I reluctantly concluded.

  "... right," he agreed. A look of careful consideration was plastered over his face before he turned his gaze to me. "The power outage, too. It must've been planned. They wanted you to notice them. They want you to know that they're here."

  I shivered. I want to go home. I want to go home and bring Michael with me, take him far away from this cursed place. I was tired of this place and its ghosts. 

  But Mike's a ghost, too. He was stuck here forever.

  "There's no use in stressing," Michael murmured before piling me into his arms and setting me back on the couch. He pecked the top of my head. "Try to get some sleep, if you can. I'll watch over you."

  It gave me a touch of reassurance to know that Michael would be making sure that nothing happened to me. Still, fear ran hot and vivid through me. I watched him as he settled down at my feet.

  "Was it like that for you?" I asked quietly as I tugged the blanket around my knees. "When you were doing your night shifts, I mean."

  Michael gave me a weary smile. "Yeah. Kinda."

  "How did you do it for so long?"

  He could only shrug. "Duty, I suppose. I knew that they were only the souls of wronged children." His smile hardened into a frown. "This guy is different, though."

  "Right..."

  Michael patted my knees with a reassuring smile.

  "Go to sleep, sweetheart. Nothing will happen to you."

  I did as told, settling down with my Freddy plushie as a pillow and the blanket pulled up to my ears. I tried to sleep.

  I didn't close my eyes for the rest of the night.