(I am making the let's play channel robots edgy and you can't stop me)

(Also this might be kind of canon divergent but whatever)

TW // PTSD, mentions of d3@th, p@n1c @tt@cks, and d1ss0c1@t10n 

---

 As of late, everything had been very confusing. It was all so different and alarming, this new future, and it was all made even worse by the fact that Spring Bonnie could hardly remember a damn thing.

 From what they could remember of that one day, they had just woken up and gone about their usual morning with their best friend Fredbear. At around noon, they had a birthday party for a seemingly very hesitant child (Evan was his name, if Spring Bonnie's memory served them correctly). For a while, they and Fredbear performed on stage, playing and singing songs with their usual spirit. It seemed like a good day.

 That was the last that they could recall before they woke up 33 years in the future, in a completely different place, shadowed over by a bunch of strangers.

 Despite Freddy's friendly attempts to keep Spring Bonnie calm and make them feel comfortable in this new pizzeria which was to be their home, the shock was still too much for them to handle at first. Their panic increased with just about every piece of information that was given to them, especially since Fredbear was seemingly nowhere to be found. Everybody they spoke to told them, their voices tinged with regret, that he wasn't there, and none of them had ever met him in their lives. It was the most despairing thing that Spring Bonnie ever experienced, and for a good few hours, they were convinced that their best friend was dead or shut down in a warehouse somewhere. They spent most of the day mourning, without the slightest clue how any of this had happened.

 Following all of this, they were completely overcome with relief and joy when they saw Fredbear step through the Parts and Services door.

 They reunited in tears, from Fredbear especially, who had lived without Spring Bonnie for more than three decades, and had given up all hope of ever seeing them again. For quite a while, they sat on the floor and talked, catching up on everything and acting almost like it was 1983 again. Spring Bonnie was happy; they had their friend back, and everything was gonna be okay. It was all gonna go back to the way it was before.

 Then, Spring Bonnie finally asked what had happened that day.

 Suddenly, as he was explaining the events that unfolded, it was like Fredbear became an entirely different person. His facial expression looked more broken than Spring Bonnie had ever seen from him, and his voice sounded more broken than they'd ever heard. His eyes were empty as he stared down at the floor, telling the story of his and the diner's downfall, and how he had his friend taken away. He uttered one of the most haunting set of words that Spring Bonnie had ever listened to:

 "I killed him," he murmured, small droplets of oil dripping from his eyes. "I killed that child, Spring."

 He was a complete wreck for at least a half hour, and Spring Bonnie, still shocked from this information, had to ease his distress, reassuring him that it wasn't his fault, that they didn't blame him, that they were here for them now, and that everything was going to be okay. He came down from it eventually, but it still echoed in Spring's mind, like a broken machine stuck looping the same process over and over again.

 Spring Bonnie was only able to imagine how it must have felt, and regret sunk in deep. "I only wish I remembered. Maybe then I would be better equipped to help you through this," they had said at one point.  "No, you don't," Fredbear replied, his voice empty. "If what happened that day changed you the way it changed me, I would never forgive myself for it."

 After that night, things got better, and it was all a process of adjusting. Although Fredbear's presence made it easier, Spring Bonnie couldn't help but notice just how much he actually changed. For one thing, he didn't even use that name anymore; for whatever reason Spring couldn't understand, he went by "Golden Freddy" now, and he requested that they call him that name as well. Most changes were even stranger. Rather than walking, he seemed to float just above ground in a way that shouldn't have been possible (which he assured was no big deal upon noticing Spring Bonnie's confusion and alarm). Furthermore, his voice seemed to have this strange... echo to it, almost ghostlike in nature, that it lacked before. 

 His appearance had changed as well, in ways. Somehow, his once vibrantly purple hat and bowtie and darkened with age, appearing almost black from a distance, their true color only visible in the light. His plastic exoskeleton eyes were gone as well, leaving two empty black sockets with small white lights shining through. Spring Bonnie didn't even recognize that he was the same person until he spoke.

 In spite of all of these major differences, however, the most drastic change, in Spring Bonnie's perspective, was his personality. He didn't laugh often and loud like he used to. His smile wasn't as wide and vibrant. The inflictions in his voice were less pronounced. He had less energy, less flourish, less exuberance.

 On good days, Golden Freddy seemed alive. He had fun with his friends, he recorded videos for the online series they ran, he acted as a leader, and he tried his best to handle things and get work done. He was different, sure, but he was still the same person he had always been. A wonderful, wise person.

 On bad days, he was a shell of a man.

 On bad days, he'd stay in the Parts and Services room all day, insisting on being left alone.

 On bad days, his memories would feel as though they were happening all over again.

 On bad days, he'd see a familiar-looking staff member and become frantic, convinced that Spring Bonnie was going to be taken away again.

 On bad days, someone would have to sit with him and calm him down while he was having a panic attack.

 On bad days, Spring Bonnie would have to see him through a dissociative episode, watching him completely disconnect from everything.

 Spring Bonnie would look at his friend, leaned against the wall, unresponsive, eyes glazed over, suffering, eternally blaming himself for a tragedy outside of his control. They'd put a hand over his shoulder, speaking to him in a calm, quiet voice, internally trying to hold it together through their own negative emotions, and they'd think:

 This isn't my friend. 

 I want my friend back.

 I want him to stop hurting.

 It finally made sense what Golden Freddy had told them the night they met again:

 "If what happened that day changed you the way it changed me, I would never forgive myself for it."

 Their friendship was stronger than ever, Golden Freddy was slowly healing, and aside from the bad days, life was good.

 But he'd never be the same.

 Things would never be exactly the same again.