there's not a soul out there

no one to hear my prayer

Amanda Seyfried

Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!  

Artist: Golems




TW: implications of abuse & gore

  Greeting us just outside the Daycare, lured by the chaos, were the glitching, twitching remainder of the Glamrocks.

  I felt Michael come to a skidding halt as Chica, Monty and Roxy approached with stilted, shuffling steps. My hand covered my mouth - they'd all been reduced to zombie-like states, not just Chica, soldiers of a foreign entity. They no longer held the emotional intelligence my friends once had. They were nothing but bloodthirsty husks.

  I felt sick. My stomach rose and swelled with the waves of nauseating disbelief. Just that morning I'd spoken with Monty, sat beside him in his ruined room. The previous Monday, Chica and Roxy had hauled me into the kitchens to make pizza while hiding from Dennis. We had memories. Or, at least, I had memories. I wasn't so sure about them, anymore.

  "We need to go," I whispered. I didn't know if they knew that Freddy was protecting Gregory, but I'd rather not take that chance. They didn't seem to see me in his arms, unfamiliar purple gazes scanning the area and watching as Sun tried in futile attempt to stand the doors to the Daycare back up. "Mike, we need to go now."

  I couldn't stand to see them like this. Like... robots. Because they'd always been so much more than just robots. The only difference between us were wires instead of veins and metal instead of flesh. My heart had crumbled to desperate, grieving bits.

  My gaze shot to Freddy's face when he didn't go to make a move. He was frozen, staring at his zombified family in horror - and I knew that whatever I'd been feeling, he was feeling it a million times worse. With Bonnie gone and the rest of the band under the thumb of some psycho kid killer, Michael had only scraps of loved ones left.

  "Mikey." I pressed my hand to his cheek. I'd felt my terror ease just slightly at their disinterest in me, but I knew that if they so much as heard Gregory breathe a little too loudly inside of Freddy, they'd maul the both of us to get to him. "Mikey, look at me."

  His blue eyes slowly dropped to me. I reached up with my other hand, stealing him in place so he wouldn't look away. His eyes looked so far away. Could possessed robots go into shock?

  "We'll fix this," I whispered lowly, voice stern with desperation. "We'll fix this. But we have to go."

  The look I sent him was pointed. We needed to get Gregory somewhere safer, somewhere less populated. Michael managed to catch that behind his dread and nodded slowly. He took a step toward the Daycare's staircase.

  Gregory sneezed, a tiny sound amplified by the echo chamber of Freddy's chest.

  My heart stilled. Freddy froze. His arms tightened around me.

  Three pairs of purple eyes snapped to us.

  "Run," I breathed. "Run!"

  Michael took off at a breakneck pace, squeezing me against his front as he shoved his way through security bots. Monty roared behind us, something loud that shook the foundations of the complex, and multiple heavy footsteps followed close behind.

  "I'm sorry!" Gregory cried.

  "It's okay," I said shakily. Michael took the stairs five at a time, eyes blown wide and sharp. I dared a peek over his shoulder and found Chica closest, arms outstretched, fingers clawed for prey. She'd always been the fastest.

  She opened her beak and a high-pitched, staticky shriek had me clapping my hands over my ears with a cry. Michael stumbled with a grunt, maw curled with discomfort and surprise at the auditory assault. The pained falter gave Chica the advantage to grab Freddy's shoulder with a steeled grip.

  But Michael was quick to recover, and with a haunted look in his eyes, he launched Chica into the other two Glamrocks with a backswing of his arm. They toppled down the stairs, a pile of tangled robot limbs and dented frames. Michael hesitated for just a second before taking off once more.

  "What was that?" I asked. My ears were still ringing from Chica's shriek, the sound lingering like a bad smell. Michael cut through the atrium with a swivelling, surveying head. "The thing with the scream."

  "I do not know," he confessed in a voice that shook, rattling between Freddy's deep cadence and Michael's british lilt. "Perhaps the virus has... amplified the malfunction in her voice box."

  "Maybe," I said breathlessly. I sighed deeply when Michael ducked under the half-closed garage door that lead to El Chips. No robots roamed inside. My ears still stung, ringing waves of phantom pain.

  It looked like the screech had hurt Freddy, too. I don't think he'd ever felt physical pain in this body before. The shaken look in his eyes only told me I was right.

  Freddy knelt and Gregory clambered out, eyes bloodshot and strained from holding back tears. He avoided our gazes as he looked around the empty restaurant.

  "What are we doing here?" Gregory asked with a barely disguised sniffle.

  "You two need to hydrate and fuel up," Michael said solemnly as he walked towards the kitchen. We trailed after, limping and slow. "I believe that it will be a very, very long night."

  Beside me, Gregory wiped his sleeve over his eyes. Guilt careened through me. I should've known how to comfort a frightened child. I should've been able to soothe his terror. Instead, I was left with a gaping mouth and no idea what to say.

  Michael held out a hand for us to stop. We halted just outside the doors to the El Chip's kitchen. Inside, robots wheeled about as they deep cleaned the place for the night.

  "Stay here," Michael said as he peered through the plexiglass sphere into the room. "I will fetch your refreshments."

  He slipped through the doors with a squeak of its hinge.

  I took the time to rest against the wall beside it with a wince. Aches speared across my back from where I'd been tossed, strong enough and painful enough to know that in a few days I'd be sporting some impressive bruising. If I lived.

  Gregory took the spot on the wall beside me with a weary sweep of his eyes over the restaurant. They were still bloodshot, reddened by tears he refused to let fall, and that guilt from before returned with vengance. 

  "Hey." I nudged his Freddy Fazbear branded shoe with mine. His weary gaze turned up to me, laden with weight I knew wasn't there before. "The thing that you did with the chair leg was pretty cool."

  Gregory didn't seem to take my compliment to heart, too distracted. "Thanks," he sniffled. He blinked hard, hard enough for me to suspect that it hurt, and then when his entire face twisted with effort I crouched down to his height.

  "Kiddo," I said softly. "It's okay to cry." 

  Gregory feebly shook his head. "I'm not allowed to cry," he whispered.

  I faltered. And then when his words sunk in, I felt my stomach twist with nausea. Who'd say that to a child? Who'd say it enough to have him forcing back tears when he was being hunted down like a lamb to slaughter?

  It made me sick. My fingertips swiped some of his shaggy hair from his fringe, and his amber-ish eyes flittered to me with confusion.

  "Who told you that?" I asked quietly.

  "I don't know." Gregory blinked hard again. "But crying is bad. It leads to bad things."

  Something cold trickled down my spine. I had a fair idea what he was referring to when he meant 'bad things.'

  "Gregory." I spoke his name softy as I gently pushed his unruly hair back into place. It was useless in attempt, but he seemed to soften beneath my touch. "Crying is not a bad thing. Crying is just when... emotions get too much for our bodies to handle. Like when you're so scared that it's overwhelming, or when you're so happy that you can't contain it."

  He wiped his nose. "Do you cry?"

  I smiled gently. "Often. Life can be tough, sometimes. And sometimes it gets so frustrating and painful that the only thing I can do is cry. But not letting myself feel that frustration and pain only makes me feel worse."

  Gregory nodded small. A tear dribbled down his cheek and I wiped it away with my thumb.

  "We'll get out of here." I shouldn't make promises, but I couldn't help it. Every time I looked at his face, even when he was being rude to me, I had more of an inclination to free him from this nightmare. What happens after still had me concerned.

  Gregory nodded again. The tears were flowing now, a faucet that wouldn't stop, but he was completely soundless in his sobbing. His clenched teeth kept him from audibly crying.

  I smiled sympathetically and stroked his cheek with my thumb. It was a start.

  We both rose when the doors opened again, and I pushed Gregory behind me just in case something other than Freddy exited. Thankfully, the big, round face of the bear poked out and his armful of food and drink followed.

  "I am back," Freddy needlessly announced. He hesitated upon seeing the heavy trail of tears rolling down Gregory's face and collecting against his band-aid, and gave a soft look. "Food will make you feel better."

  "If I don't throw it up," Gregory muttered, back to his regularly-scheduled bitterness. I watched the back of his head as he followed the big, lumbering form of Freddy to a booth.

  I rubbed my chest, as if it could relieve the heartache I was suddenly experiencing. In any other circumstance, this could be just us stopping by for lunch. In another reality, in a life where I'd wake up beside Michael every morning, Gregory could've been ours.

  I closed my eyes. Now isn't the time to get emotional over things that aren't possible.

  I followed them to the booth and slid in beside the boy. Michael had ordered the kitchen bots to prepare two beanless burritos for us, and bottles of water accompanied them. I felt my stomach give a loud, graetful grumble as I reached for my burrito. Despite Gregory's previous mention of throwing-up, he'd devoured his midnight dinner in seconds.

  "We should think of a game plan," I said between bites. Michael couldn't sit still, arm over the back of the booth as he surveyed El Chips for stray security bots. "We need to find another way out of here."

  "Or we could take out the crazy lady," Gregory said resolutely. He chugged half of his water bottle before sending us a determined scowl. "I want her to stop hurting people."

  I shared an uneasy look with Michael. Any other night, when things were going according to our original plan and we had an army of Glamrocks and staff bots against the killer, I would've shared his enthusiasm. But it was just Michael and I, and we weren't enough to ensure Gregory's safety while we hunted the killer down.

  "Another night," I said. Michael nodded in agreement to my response.

  "Another night?!" Gregory exclaimed. "Another night, and another kid might be dead! What if I'm the next one she kills!?"

  I flinched. I didn't want to think about what our inaction could cost. Already far too many lives had been lost because we were naive to what horrors were transpiring beneath our feet.

  But Michael was resolute. "We cannot. Y/n and I do not have the manpower to take her own ourselves."

  "You're not alone. You've got me."

  And, without hesitation; "we are not risking your life," Michael snapped in a tone that was probably a few shades harder than intended. Gregory jolted at the sharp tone the bear took. "We will find another way."

  Gregory slumped back into the seats with a grumpy sip of his water bottle. I decided to change the topic.

  "That screech Chica made," I mentioned, "it looked like it hurt you back there."

"It did," Freddy answered thinly. "It sucked some of my charge, too, this... this is troubling."

  I hummed in grim agreement. I didn't like the thought of Chica getting an 'upgrade' to help her search for Gregory. I didn't have any battery to deplete but still, it was shrill enough to completely disorientate me. I'd hate to have it used against me without Freddy there to run me out of harm's way.

  As Michael and I tossed around some ideas to escape, Gregory began to grow drowsy. A combination of facing off against killer robots and eating a fulling meal had subdued him into napping, and I barely noticed it when he drifted into my side.

  "You are a natural."

  "What?" I said. Michael's comment seemed to have originated out of nowhere, but his gaze on the kid snuggled into my side made me glance down. Sometime during our talking, my arm had gone around Gregory with my fingers absentmindedly brushing his hairline. He was fast asleep. "Oh."

  "I told you he liked you," Michael said quietly.

  I shrugged with my free shoulder, a play at nonchalance. "I guess we trauma bonded."

  My heart warmed upon realising Gregory felt safe enough to sleep against me. He may be rude, bold and grating, but the menace had grown on me. It was going to be difficult to say goodbye to him in the morning.

  Freddy exhaled wearily as he watched Gregory sleep. "What are we going to do?"

  "I don't know," I murmured. I occupied myself by smoothing back a few stubborn brown curls that stuck up beside Gregory's temple. "I don't suppose we can just stay in here until morning?"

  Freddy shook his head. "They will surely find us."

  I deflated. "Yeah. I assumed so." Gregory sighed in his sleep and his peace made me smile. It would be fleeting, a single instance in this myriad of terror, but it was precious all the same. "I suppose you just call anyone superstar these days."

  Freddy sent me a confused look before it clicked. "Ah. My apologies." He gave an abashed smile. "It was a slip of the tongue."

  "It's alright." Seeing Gregory sleep made my body beg for rest, too, but I knew I couldn't afford it. The curls against his temple resisted my grooming and I conceded. "He is a little superstar, isn't he?"

  "You both are," Michael murmured.

  I spared him a tired smile, one that he matched. I didn't know if he could feel exhausted but he looked it. Perhaps it was all emotional, rather than physical. I couldn't hardly blame him for it - I felt as though I'd been thrashed.

  "We should get going, soon," I said. "Do you have any clue where to go next?"

  "Not entirely," he admitted. "I wonder if the others are still locked onto the idea that Gregory is with me. They seemed to ignore you before."

  "Yeah." I shifted uncomfortably. I didn't know what was worse - being completely glanced over by the bots who used to keep me company as though I didn't exist or being hunted down by them.

  Actually. That was a stupid idea. Being hunted was obviously worse.

  "A lot of places in the Pizzaplex will be locked off," Freddy mentioned. His blue claws began to tap the table, a mechanical rhythm. "It might pose useful to get a security clearance that works, since yours does not and I have been cut from the system."

  "Where would we go to get that?"

  Freddy lifted a single, red-armoured shoulder. "The security offices."

  My brow knitted as I contemplated his idea. It was risky - but so was everything else. Every move we'd make would have a knife tip pressed against our back. Where else would we even go? It wasn't as if we had a better plan.

  "Okay," I answered unsurely. My fingers fiddled with the clasp of my Faz-Watch, knowing that it would be in use soon. Apprehension filled my gut with snakes, wiggling and squirming and making me nauseas.

  Freddy turned to assess the restaurant's surroundings again, probably calculating a map to the closest security office or something smart like that. I watched him as his blue eyes scoured, imagined them as warm, human hazel, and felt my stomach twist further.

  "Mike-" I began quickly, before stopping when Gregory shifted against me. Freddy's optics glowed in the darkened restaurant, turning to me as we waited for the slumbering child to settle once more. When he did, I released a breath and lifted my gaze back to the robot across from me. "If... if things go wrong..."

  His eyes dimmed at my trailed-off comment. His finger-tapping ceased. He knew what I was implying, but I pulled in a deep inhale and pushed on.

  "If I die, what will happen to me?" I asked. I managed to keep my gaze steady against his, though every part of me yearned to disappear into my own arms. "Will- will my soul stay here?"

  "I won't let that happen."

  I succumbed, dropping my eyes to the table. My smile was bittersweet.

  "I wouldn't mind being trapped here with you."

  "Y/n-"

  "Just as long as I'm not in a staff bot," I said in afterthought; giggle thin, tinny, strange-sounding. My heart was beginning to flutter in my chest with dread and I smiled through it. "Those things creep me out. Or-"

  I was cut off by Freddy grabbing my hands. They were engulfed, claws pressing just gently into the flesh of my palms. My voice died. My glassy gaze jumped to his determined face.

  "I will get you out of here," Michael promised. "Both of you."

  My smile grew sad. "In theory-"

  "I will."

  My expression fell. "You have to be realistic-"

  "Y/n." The finality in his voice stopped me short. A fire had sparked behind the blue of his eyes, glowing with herculean intent. "It's impossible. But the impossible is what keeps happening to us Aftons." He stared at our clasped hands. "I would rather kill myself all over again if it meant that your soul could rest easy."

  I tried to pull my hands back with a hard look, but his hold was gentle, steadfast, the softest of iron. I shook my head.

  "Don't say that. Don't ever say that."

  "Why not?" he asked. "You've said the same to me before. You would risk yourself for me just as I would for you."

  "Yeah, but-" my throat was beginning to swell. My head was shaking fast, frantic, feverish. "I can't- you can't... I need you. You can't go again. Not again."

  "Sweetheart." His paw lifted to cease my head shakes, pressed against my cheek for comfort. My hand shot up to it, held him there, threaded my fingers around his. Sight had gone fuzzy. "I'm not going anywhere."

  "You keep making promises." The words rushed out, unruly and flustered and prickled through with fear. "Stop making promises. We don't know what's going to happen."

  His face crumpled but he kept silent. He could promise until the sun rose, but that wouldn't stop a robotic claw from sheathing through my abdomen, or a knife from making home in my chest. He may be an Afton and Death may walk past him, but I wasn't. Not even by marriage.

  I should've said my vows years ago. We should've just gone to Vegas and gotten hitched that first night Michael took me to his bed. It was a silly thing to regret, but impending mortality made people think silly things.

  But we didn't. So, instead, I comforted myself by pressing my lips to his palm and leaving a lingering kiss to the silicone that held me. "I love you. I've never stopped loving you."

  Freddy's muzzle fell into a forlorn smile. "I love you, too."

  A sharp breath through my teeth later, I was nudging Gregory awake. He grumbled at my disturbance and blearily opened his eyes with his signature frown.

  "What?" he muttered.

  "We gotta keep moving," I said as I slid out of the booth. He followed with a groan and a wipe of his eyes.

  "I'm tired," Gregory mumbled. He stood upright and reached for Freddy's hand and the big robot looked down at him affectionately. Bittersweet - why did everything have to be so bittersweet? "What time is it?"

  I checked my watch. "Just after one."

  "The closest security office is by the arcade," Freddy announced. He turned to head in its direction and Gregory contently trotted beside him, hand in hand. I trailed behind, taking the opportunity to revel in the brief, heartwarming sight before we'd inevitably run into trouble.

  "Stay close, manager Y/n," Freddy said once we'd reached the edge of El Chips. "The patrols outside will be tight to avoid. I might have to carry you should we run into trouble."

  Gregory began tapping on Freddy's stomach. "That's my cue."

  Michael gave him an amused, rueful smile. "Indeed." His chest opened with a hiss of his pistols and Gregory clambered up, almost an expert. When he was safely tucked inside Freddy turned to me. "Ready?"

  "I guess," I murmured unconvincingly. How ready could someone be for certain doom? I'd never considered myself the bravest.

  Michael hooked his hand through mine and peeked outside. Then, as silent as a seven foot robot could be, he snuck back into the atrium with me behind him and led the way.

  I held my breath as we traversed around the staff bots that surveyed the place. Thankfully, the staff bots were as thick as rocks and had a confined view, which made weaving through them manageable. Still, I didn't dare speak. I was glad that Gregory had the same idea.

  Freddy's grip on my hand tightened when he came to a sudden stop. A bot wheeled before us, mere inches away from spotting us, a hairsbreadth that had me stiffening. My teeth sunk into my lip until they bled. My lungs clawed for air.

  But it passed on, undisturbed, and we beelined it to the elevators. Waiting for the doors to open was another heart attack in itself; had the elevators always taken this long, or was my reality warping seconds into miniature eternities? Was this torture?

  When the doors slid open with a soft chime and we piled in, I could finally breathe again. The doors locked behind us and I almost suggested to just camp out here for the night - surely we just dismantle the security camera and wait out the storm until the daytime employees returned?

  But we were trapped like this, and if I was going to die, I'd rather not die like a rat bunched into a corner. My palm pressed over my racing heart as though the pressure would calm it.

  "How are you holding up?" Freddy asked.

  I shook my head. If I spoke, I'd cry, and if I started crying, I had a feeling that the tears wouldn't stop. His hand squeezed mine in support before stepping forward to press the button for level two.

  Freddy's chest opened and Gregory took the chance to stretch out his legs. Despite how small he was, it was cramped in there, human comfort not in the design plans for a cake cavity. His amber eyes watched the floor as a cheery jingle played overhead. In his grasp was a heavy-duty torch.

  "Where'd you get that?" I managed to ask. Gregory glanced at me before looking at the torch.

  "I snagged it from the daycare before we left," he answered. He lifted the torch and tested its weight. "I thought it would be a good weapon."

  This kid's crazy. I kept my remark to myself.

  "Why do you think the bunny-lady's killing people?" Gregory asked. I wished the elevator jingle was a little bit louder so I could pretend that I didn't hear him, because answering it would just make my fear feel more real.

  "Some people are just... really sick," I finally answered, voice a touch quiet. Gregory turned his eyes to me. "They need help, but... sometimes they don't get help, and then it's too late."

  I heard Michael's exhale. I knew he was thinking of his father - a sick, cruel man who desperately needed help and never got it, never wanted it, and now look where we were. Even dead, he tortured Michael. Even dead, he hunted us.

  "Back inside, Gregory," Freddy said softly. He gently tucked the kid's legs back into his chest and Gregory shifted to find a comfortable enough position. His youthful gaze jumped to me just as the door clamped shut. The elevator doors opened.

  The arcade had always been eerie at night. Rows upon rows of machines greeted us like a maze. Cartoon characters beamed at us from their stickers. A low grumble - Monty - rolled throughout the cavernous room. I sidled closer to Freddy's side.

  "Easy," Michael murmured in a voice just audible enough for my ears to catch. "Don't rush. We need to get to the other side of this room without alerting anyone."

  I nodded and let him lead the way.

  It was easier to weave through the staff bots in the atrium where there was heaps of room to step out of their routes, but the arcade's rows were tight. More than once, Freddy would step out into a row before ushering me back behind the corner to let a staff bot roll past. Each time had my heart leaping into my throat and thundering in my ears.

  Monty passed us once as we hid, crouching out of his sight, and his cold, purple gaze sent shivers tumbling down my spine. His lumbering gait was deceiving. We all knew how fast he could run.

  Finally, after what felt like a billion panic attacks, we reached the end of the arcade where a shutter door sat, opened half a metre off the ground. Michael tested sliding it up on its rollers a little more but a horrific screech of the wheels had us both freezing.

  "You'll have to go without me," Freddy whispered as he knelt to let Gregory out. "The shutter cannot be opened further."

  "What?" My panic reared its head, loud and ugly. I could barely keep my own voice to a whisper. "No. No. We stick together."

  Gregory crawled out of Freddy's chest. He looked around with wide eyes, silent as a mouse.

  "I will reconvene with you two on the other side," Michael said. "But it's too risky to take the both of you back through the arcade."

  "What if there's more robots on the other side?" Gregory asked, voice shaky under his breath.

  "Stick to the shadows," Michael answered. He placed a hand on our shoulders and sent a reassuring smile. "There is a security office just around the bend. Get there quickly and shut the doors after you. Try to find a clearance card." He turned to me. "Trust me."

  I blinked hard. I could trust him. I could push aside my own worries and trust him - he knew this place better than I did, anyway. He had better hearing, better sight, and he was Michael. He'd never direct us somewhere without being sure we'd be safe.

  "But-" Gregory went to push back but quietened when I grabbed his hand in a firm, solid grip. I trusted Michael, and he could trust me to keep Gregory safe. His safety was the most important.

  "Come on, kiddo," I said, forcing cheer into my whisper. "Faster we get there, faster Freddy will meet up with us again."

  Gregory sent me a worried look. To my surprise, he didn't argue with me. He just gave a quiet nod and let me guide him under the shutter. I hesitated just enough to look back at Freddy, stomach a heavy pit, before sending him a wobbly smile and leading Gregory away.

  Both Gregory and I held our breaths as we snuck through the hallway we exited out onto. Staff bots followed their usual routes, torches dragging circles of light along the starry floor. I felt as though I needed more eyes - or at least another heart. I was wearing this one thin.

  "It's just a game," I whispered. "It's hide and seek."

  Gregory stared up at me owlishly as we edged along the darkened wall. "Okay," he breathed shakily. "Hide and seek. I'm good at that."

  I nodded. I could see the security office just ahead and it took everything in me to keep to a sneaking walk. The urge to sprint towards it was overwhelming. Safety - so close I could taste it. It was teasing, testing. My legs shook with the effort to be slow.

  "This is aging me," I groaned as I shut the doors to the security office. Gregory sat on the desk's chair and closed his eyes in exhaustion. I turned to him and tapped the top of his head. "Help me find the clearance card."

  He peeled his eyes open and gave a half-hearted look around the office. "Can't find it."

  I sighed. "A proper look, Gregory."

  Stifling a grumble and a few choice words he was wise to keep to himself, Gregory pulled himself from the chair and joined me in scouring the office. My irritation rose the longer I searched, and just when it reached boiling heights, Gregory spoke up.

  "Is this it?"

  I turned at his voice with a huff before breaking into an immediate smile at the outstretched card. "Yes! Good job, kid!"

  He shrugged, deflecting my compliment. "It wasn't hard."

  "Still." I ruffled his hair on the way past. "Well done."

  Gregory remained quiet, sticking the card into his pocket. He joined me in watching the security office's camera screens - Roxy was prowling close by.

  "How is Freddy gonna get past her?" Gregory asked worriedly. His voice rose in pitch as he turned to me. "What if she attacks him?"

  "He'll be alright," I reassured.

  Gregory was far from being convinced. He watched the wolf on the screens while worrying the sleeves of his new jersey, eyes wet with unshed tears. I patted his shoulder. I doubted my weak smile convinced him further.

  Minutes trickled slowly by while we waited for Freddy to meet us. Gregory had taken back to curling up on the seat, eyes unblinking as he watched the screens. I busied myself by flipping through the cameras on my Faz-Watch, trying to locate where Michael might be. It was futile - the place was so massive, it was akin to looking for a needle in a haystack.

  I sighed and dropped my wrist. The adrenaline, while still an ever-present hum, had dwindled and it left me exhausted. I'd never been so tired. If I wasn't dead by morning, I was treating myself to a day at that expensive spa place in the middle of town. 

  My gaze drifted to Gregory. Maybe he'd like a spa day, too. And then on one of my night shifts, we could do a robot-equivalent of a spa treatment for the Glamrocks.

  I smiled softly at the idea that was impossible given the current circumstances. It'd be hard to give the Glamrocks mud masks if they were trying to murder me. Oh, that would be funny. Morbidly, woefully funny. Maybe I'd laugh at their homicidal antics while mourning the deaths of my friends.

  My palm wiped my face, as if it could wipe the thoughts away. I could feel myself losing hope fast. The longer we were trapped, the more we were hunted, the less I thought we'd be getting out of this place with our lives intact. But, really, what life was that, anyway? A home that's lonely? Gregory, with his unsure future in the egregious foster care system? It wasn't as if the suffering would end.

  Stop it. Stop catastrophising. I had Matt and Alice and Amelia. I had my mom and step-dad. I had Caleb and the towns people who watched me grow up. And I still had Michael.

  Gregory had... no one. But even that wasn't true, was it? He had Michael, too. And he had me. If we got out of here, I'd do everything in my power to make sure he ends up somewhere where he can grow up happy and healthy. Then all of this will just feel like a bad dream.

  "Hey, Greggy?" I broke the silence.

  "Don't call me that."

  I rolled my eyes. At least his attitude was back - surely that was a good sign. I turned to him and his attention jumped from the screens to me.

  "Fine, Gregory. What memories do you have?"

  Gregory frowned at my question but didn't resist. "Nothing. It's just flashes, I think. Sometimes a face shows up, or a name, but then they're gone so fast that I forget them again."

  "But you grew up in Hurricane?"

  Gregory shrugged. "Maybe? I woke up in this really dusty house a year ago, but it was abandoned. That's the first thing I can remember."

  I hummed in thought. My shoes tapped the floor. After a few beats, I turned back to him. "You think you can show me this house when we get out?"

  Gregory sighed through his nose and dragged his eyes back to the screens. "Sure, whatever."

  Silence fell again and another round of minutes dragged past. I took to sitting on the floor beside Gregory's chair, tiredly watching the screens with him. Roxy continued her loops outside the office with unwavering resolve. Screen two, to seven, to four, and back again. Endless.

  My brows furrowed with a thought. "Hey, when did Roxy get outside? Why is she hanging around? Does she know that we're here?"

  Gregory's eyes widened and shot to me. "Do you think that the bunny-lady's watching us through the cameras, too?"

  Oh, great. That was probably it. We were a reality show for her too, now. What a humiliating way to die.

  "I'm sure he isn't far away," I said uneasily.

  "I hate this place," Gregory whimpered. 

  We both jumped when Freddy's voice slipped from our watches.

  "Gregory? Y/n?"

  Relief careened through me so fast that I had to catch myself from bursting into tears. I steadied myself with a quick shake of my head and raised my wrist.

  "Freddy? You okay?" I asked, just as Gregory straightened in his seat and gasped the bear's name.

  "Ah, good," he said with a sigh of relief. "You're both okay. Did you get the card? Are you in the security office?"

  "Yeah," Gregory answered, "but Roxy's outside!"

  "That is troubling. Roxy can see through thin walls, it will be hard to hide from her," he said grimly. Gregory leant back in his seat with an exhale of defeat. "I will lead her away from the office. You two escape. We will meet outside the prize counter."

  "Where's the prize counter?" Gregory asked. I pointed at one of the screens.

  "Just around the corner from us," I answered. "It'll only be a short run."

  Gregory restlessly shifted on his seat. "... alright." He clearly didn't like the idea.

  "I am almost on Roxy's position," Michael informed. Our eyes scoured the screens for the bear before Gregory pointed at one of the screens - he'd arrived. "I'll tell you when it's clear."

  "Okay," I said, breathless with anticipation. "Be careful."

  "I will."

  I held my throat as we watched Freddy approach Roxy. The wolf was hunched, ragged-looking, but still seemed to hold a conversation. I tried not to think about her long claws ripping through Freddy's delicate wires.

  I'm gonna need to double-up on my therapy sessions after this.

  "Why is he taking so long?" Gregory whined.

  "He's just trying to be discrete," I said. "Give him time- see, look! She's going away."

  We followed the bear and wolf with our eyes until they'd disappeared from the camera's views. We waited on bated breath for our cue and, when his voice spoke 'go' from our watches, we burst from the office like racehorses at the starting gate.

  "Careful," I whispered to Gregory as we lightly jogged our way around the roving staff bots. "Quickly, quickly."

  "I'm going!" he hissed. He pulled on my shirt and brought me to a hard stop just as the illumination of a bot's light circled the floor before my feet. "You be careful."

  I rolled my eyes at his snark before continuing forward. The prize counter was just in sight and it was unmanned (unroboted?), a perfect hiding place - if Roxy didn't return with her X-Ray eyes.

  "Look!" Gregory tugged on my sleeve and pointed across the hallway. "It's a fire escape!"

  "Wait, no- Gregory!" I called after him the loudest I dared as he darted across the hall, barely missing the staff bots' lights. I wanted to melt to the floor from the intense fear his flee just gave me.

  I carefully picked my way after him and nervously stood at his side. He glared at the door, eyes bloodshot with frustration.

  "It's not opening," he muttered.

  "Can we go back to the prize counter, then?"

  "That's a safety hazard," Gregory pointed out sniffily, ignoring me. He pushed on the handle again but it had no give. "This place should be shut down."

  "I know, kiddo," I said with a relenting sigh. "But tonight's not really a normal night. Figures she'd lock the fire escapes."

  Gregory kicked the door halfheartedly. "I just wanna get out."
 
  I smiled sadly at the boy. I understood his frustration; I felt it, too. It took everything I had not to yell at the top of my lungs.

  "Let's just go." Gregory spared one last spiteful look at the fire escape before turning to head towards the prize counter. I went to follow before yelping in alarm and dragging him back by his shirt, keeping him from the light.

  But the damage was done - the staff bot of whose path Gregory had just stepped onto stared at us with blank, black eyes before letting out a shrill siren that rivalled Chica's earlier screech. I felt a cool, trickling sense of fear tumble down my back as the surrounding staff bots turned to us.

  Gregory slowly raised his eyes to me. There was true terror in them. "I'm sorry."

  The staff bots began swiftly advancing before I could say anything, and I frantically scanned for a way out. My eyes landed on a metal door behind a sea of blank heads.

  "The elevator!" I exclaimed before picking up Gregory's wrist and hauling ass. It didn't matter to dodge the staff bots anymore, so we shoved a line right through them, knocking them off balance in our bid to safety.

  "Go back to the office!" Freddy shouted through the watches. "Roxy has turned back!"

  "Y/n!" Roxy's mangled, warbled snarl bellowed over the motors of the staff bots as she suddenly careened into the hallway. "Where is he?!"

  "Fuck!" I cried. I spared a look over my shoulder and blanched at the sight of the crowd behind us. It was just like all those months ago, down in the bowels of the Pizzaplex. This time I didn't have Michael to save me. This time I had a child with me.

  "Y/n, look out!" Gregory shrieked, making me whip my head around to him and the new danger he'd seen. 

  "Vanessa!" My relief at seeing the golden-haired, green-eyed security guard approaching was as instinctive as it was brief. I quickly turned horrified when Gregory was snatched from my hand. "No!"

  Roxy dragged the boy away from me, grip unbreakable. He struggled in her hold, kicking and screaming, but it was ineffective against the robot with far superior strength. I advanced after, intent on getting Gregory back. How - I wasn't sure.

  "Y/n!" Gregory wailed as he writhed in Roxy's grip. "Y/n!"

  "I'm coming!" I cried, struggling my way through the staff bots that surged around us. "I'm coming, baby! Roxy, please! Vanessa-"

  "Y/n, watch out!"

  I'd turned to the familiar face for help, foolish in my terror, just in time to see her swing a crowbar down upon me.

  I staggered, stunned, pitching forward and crumbling to the floor just as an immense pain blossomed from my temple. Gregory screamed, I think, unless it was the ringing that resounded amongst my head. And then there was the vaguest of feelings that I couldn't think, anymore. Everything was a blank slate as I gasped for breath, as my nails clawed the floor.

  Vanessa crouched beside me. I couldn't meet her gaze, I couldn't move my eyes. Everything was rushing and loud and fuzzy and I felt the overwhelming need to sleep, the aches of my head like drumbeats, like thunder.

  "I'm sorry," I thought I caught her sobbing. Behind her, Gregory was being dragged away. I tried to reach for him. "I'm so sorry." And the crowbar was brought down on me again.

•••••

  Bleach.

  It smells like bleach. And... floor cleaner. It smells sterile.
 
  Intense white greeted me when I peeled my eyes open, making me squint them, and then squint them tighter. A ceaseless beeping scratched at the inside of my throbbing skull. Was this a hospital? Was I hospitalised?

  I forced my eyes back open as I took in the room I woke in. It was definitely a hospital, if the linoleum floors, curtain-railed room and white-sheeted gurney I was laying in told me anything. The beeping from the monitor beside me drew my gaze, and to the tall IV drip to its left, then down a thin cord that curved into my arm.

  Hospital gown. The ugly pattern was unmistakable, and I felt my stomach twist. I'd always hated the hospital. It was what took my father from me.

  The squeaky opening of the door made me look up just as a nurse with dark, coily hair and a tired disposition entered. In her grasp was a clipboard. She did a double take upon seeing my weary gaze on her before softening, approaching with a pad of her sneakers.

  "Mrs. Afton," she greeted with a smile. "You're awake. Should I call for a doctor?"

  Mrs. Afton? What was going on? I looked around the hospital room, wincing at the light and the headache it gave. Nothing clued me in on how I got there, or why, or even where I was.

  "Where am I?" I asked. My throat was dry, voice painful and raspy. I sounded like a dehydrated man.

  The nurse paused in her checks on the machine. Concern crossed her face first, before understanding. She sent me a patient smile. "You're in Hurricane Medical. Would you like me to call your husband?"

  Husband? I held a palm to my temple in disbelief before yanking my hand away, hissing at the tenderness there. Why was I so sore?

  "Uh - sure." I cleared my throat to rid it from the itchy dryness, but it only made me hurt more. "Could- could I get some water?"

  "Of course," she said kindly, before finishing up her check-in on the machine. "Doctor John will be here soon."

  I nodded absentmindedly. There was a window to my side, and through the sheer curtains bright sunlight tumbled through. It was a beautiful day. A vase of purple flowers sat on my bedside table. But it felt... wrong, somehow.

  How did I get here? Memories escaped me. It hurt to think.

  Painfully slowly and stiff throughout, I pushed myself up to sit. The gown hung from my shoulders, loose and clean. The beeping continued incessantly.

  Mrs. Afton. Husband. Something important niggled at the back of my head, but it was too far away to reach. A diamond on my finger caught my drifting gaze and I stared at it, lifted it to the light. It was classy, simple. It was beautiful. It was a wedding ring. 

  I closed my eyes and dropped my hand to my lap. There was something important that I needed to remember, but I could barely remember anything. But I knew my name, at least. Y/n. Y/n L/n - unless that wasn't actually true. Unless I was Y/n Afton.

  Y/n Afton. Out of everything that felt wrong here, that last name before my first felt right.

  "Excuse me, sir- you can't enter yet- sir-!" 

  The door burst open again. I was too drugged up and painful to startle, but my heart did leap. And then it leapt again - harder, sharper, more lovely - when my stinging eyes drifted to the man in the entrance. 

  He strode toward me confidently; dark hair, hazel eyes, flannel and combat boots. His strong face, his square jaw, his stubble. It all looked right, too. A golden solid in this sea of uncertainty. I knew him. I knew him well. 

  Husband, part of me whispered. 

  "Michael," slipped from my mouth instead.