It's been so long... yeah it has, half a year? Been real busy... But I'll still finish what I started just--been flimsy.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Freddy had searched nearly the entire Pizzaplex.

Your security office.

The Main Atrium.

The Utility Tunnels.

The East Arcade.

Even the small break room where you often disappeared to whenever you insisted you "needed five minutes of peace before strangling another parent for losing their child--again."

Nothing.

Not a trace of you.

Not even Vanessa.

He stood in Rockstar Row, looking around the now-empty hallways where children earlier raced down the carpets—but now had staff bots cleaning here and there, unaware of the unease settling inside the animatronic bear.

"...Officer (Y/N)..."

He tried your Fazwatch frequency again.

Static.

Nothing.

His chest compartment tightened involuntarily.

It was unlike you to disappear without informing him. Even if you wandered into places you certainly should not, you always—always—left some sort of message. A text. A scribbled note. Even a teasing voice message telling him not to worry. Though on other days, Freddy just taps into your Fazwatch's signal to pinpoint your location at random times. Sometimes he found you in the smoothie bar, sometimes—El Chips? Other times, in the Main Atrium, doing crowd control during performance routines. But very rare—even when you were absent from the Pizzaplex—do you suddenly vanish out of thin air. While at work? He'd be almost certain to find you no matter what.

And yet... now? Even as he rewrote the code to look at your coordinates?

Nothing.

"...Perhaps she is merely occupied," Freddy quietly reassured himself, though the words failed to convince even his own processors. Why would she refuse contact? Though Freddy still had the barest idea of human connection, he still felt it was apparent to request even a little bit of consideration from you.

But then, he heard heavy footsteps—or rather, he sensed movement nearby. His ears twitched, a small wiggle.

"Looking for someone?"

Freddy turned, his electric eyes falling upon blue and pink.

Bonnie approached with his usual leisurely gait, hands tucked behind his back as though he hadn't a care in the world. The pink visor over his eyes reflected the neon lights of Rockstar Row while the ever-present smile rested comfortably upon his face.

"Bonnie."

"You've been pacing for..." Bonnie tilted his head thoughtfully. "...twenty-three minutes and fifteen seconds."

"I have?"

"You wore a trail into the carpet."

Freddy looked down.

While there wasn't the comedic track made through constant wear and tear as depicted in shows—he could see the slight darkening of where his footsteps dug into the carpets.

"...My apologies."

Bonnie chuckled lightly. "No need to apologize."

But that did nothing to ease the animatronic—he sighed. "I have been attempting to locate Officer (Y/N)." His optics briefly scanned the hallway once more. "And Officer Vanessa, for that matter. Neither have responded to communications."

Bonnie's smile faltered.

Only for a second.

"...Neither?"

Freddy noticed—the small flicker in his expression unmissable by animatronics alike. "Is something the matter?"

Bonnie looked away, a bit quiet as compared to his earlier introduction.

"...Bonnie?"

The rabbit rubbed the back of his neck. "I... wasn't sure if I should tell you."

Freddy frowned. "...Tell me what?"

Bonnie glanced around the hallway, even though realistically—limited to no soul at all could be detected here to eavesdrop. But still, he lowered his voice. "...Not here."

Freddy straightened. "If this concerns Officer (Y/N), then I insist—"

"It does."

Silence.

Bonnie's expression had changed.

The smile remained...

Yet something about it looked... strained.

"...Come with me."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The common greenroom behind Rockstar Row was empty this time of day. The said room constructed to cater to a more interactive set up for animatronics alike, rather than the fragmented set up of different greenrooms. It so happened that—the common room became a small meeting room for them all—should they prefer it. It's also common to point out that such greenrooms may not be big enough to cater to them all now that they are five in the group—size wise, this was the last resort approved by management.

Only instruments lined the walls, the room illuminated by soft ceiling lights. The distant muffled music from the Atrium barely reached inside—couches were around, but the space wasn't compromised—about twice the size of an ordinary greenroom.

Bonnie quietly shut the door behind them—for effect, everyone knows the door closes on its own.

Freddy folded his arms, standing at the center of the room while looking back to look at the other animatronic.

"...You have my attention."

Bonnie didn't answer immediately. Instead, he walked toward one of the design-worthy amplifiers before leaning against it.

"...Do you remember what happened before closing yesterday?"

Freddy nodded.

"I was assisting guests with the final meet-and-greet."

"Right."

"You remained in Gator Golf for maintenance."

"...Mostly."

Freddy noticed the hesitation, even as miniscule of a pause was enough to catch his attention.

"...Bonnie."

The rabbit exhaled slowly. "...After maintenance... I took a walk."

Freddy remained silent, it was an indication for the other to continue.

"I couldn't really sleep." Bonnie continued.

"You do not sleep."

"You know what I mean."

"...Indeed."

Bonnie's gaze settled somewhere on the floor. "I heard voices. They were coming from one of the service corridors."

"You investigated?"

"I thought it was another employee working overtime."

"...And?" though Freddy had questions—they NEVER had overtime workers, considering that—by all means, who would want to stay in a place where safety is not guaranteed and animatronics roamed—take note, the animatronics did not like the staff at all.

Bonnie looked up. "It was Vanessa."

Freddy nodded slowly, still quiet. "...That would explain why neither of you appeared during tri-hour checks."

"...She wasn't alone."

Freddy's optics narrowed. For the likes of Vanessa, companionship is... very optional, one she rarely takes up. "...Who accompanied her?"

Bonnie met his eyes. "...Officer (Y/N)."

Freddy's posture eased ever so slightly. If you two were together, he can be at ease that you were with SOMEONE. He just has to find her and ask about you.

"They were together?"

"Yeah."

"...Perhaps that explains—"

"There was also..." Bonnie stopped himself. "...A child."

Silence settled between them.

Freddy blinked several times that second.

"...A... child?"

Bonnie nodded once.

"I recognized him."

"...Recognized?"

"He'd been crying earlier."

Freddy searched his memory. The quick retrieval isolated segmented events from today. There had indeed been. "...The little boy with the blue hoodie."

Bonnie's smile disappeared entirely.

"...That's the one."

Freddy's voice became quieter. "...What about it?"

Bonnie hesitated long enough for the silence to become uncomfortable.

"They were leading him somewhere."

"...Leading?"

"The kid looked scared." Bonnie continued, and it began to irk Freddy that the animatronic just won't say it all in one go. "I asked what was going on."

Freddy's processors quietly whirred. "What explanation did Officer Vanessa or (Y/N) provide?"

Bonnie laughed softly. "...That's just it."

"...Explain."

"Vanessa immediately stepped between us. I don't know, they thought I'd probably open my stomach and swallow the kid."

"And Officer (Y/N)?"

"...She kept the kid behind her."

Freddy felt something sink inside him.

"...Usually she'd find the guardian or parent, or escort the child toward the nearest staff for safety."

"I know."

Bonnie nodded almost sadly.

"I thought the same."

Freddy remained motionless.

Bonnie continued quietly, pressing forward now that he gained the animatronic's full attention.

"Vanessa told me it was 'official security business.'" He was weighing his words slowly. "I asked why a frightened child was involved."

With his fingers under his chin, he finally made direct eye contact with Freddy—too ominous of such. "They wouldn't answer."

Freddy's voice carried unmistakable doubt. "...Officer (Y/N) would never involve a child unnecessarily. I recall how she often sends me a message regarding such occurrence."

"I know." Bonnie answered so quickly it almost sounded rehearsed. "I defended her too."

Freddy looked at him warily, not liking where this was going. "You... defended her?"

Bonnie nodded. "I thought maybe there was some emergency. Cause, you know, they're security guards, it's their job—technically." Then his eyes showed something—like how a person would soften their gaze—if only their casing weren't showing such permanency. "I trusted her."

Those words struck Freddy harder than expected. Because he had done the same.

"...Then what occurred?"

Bonnie sighed. "I tried following them." He dragged on, it was starting to get tedious. "They disappeared."

Freddy had to lift a finger to butt in, confused. "...Disappeared?"

"I lost sight of them in the Utility Tunnels."

"Impossible."

"I know."

"The surveillance—"

"I checked afterward."

Freddy paused.

"...You checked?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about it."

Bonnie looked genuinely troubled.

"The cameras cut out."

"...Cut out?"

"For almost four minutes."

Freddy's optics widened slightly.

"...That should not be possible." He knew it shouldn't—he had master control over security systems as courtesy to help you scout around for tasks at night. For the cameras to be accessed by Bonnie—he should at least know. And a cut out? A notification should've been sent over his receiver so he could notify a technical staff to fix it the next day. But how come he didn't received any of the aforementioned?

"It isn't."

"I thought maybe it was just maintenance."

Freddy looked away.

Maintenance...

Vanessa...

Missing children...

His processors attempted to assemble disconnected pieces into something coherent.

Nothing fit.

"...Why tell me now?"

Bonnie answered almost immediately. "Because another child disappeared."

The words landed heavily inside the silent room. Freddy closed his eyes for a moment; the words hung a bit heavy.

"...I am aware."

"And..." Bonnie swallowed. "...I started wondering if maybe..."

"No." Freddy answered before Bonnie could finish.

Bonnie looked at him.

"...Freddy."

"I know what you are about to imply."

The words hanged, lingering to settle between them in shared silence.

"And I refuse."

Bonnie nodded. "I wanted to refuse too. Trust me, I have no qualms over them—heck, I actually like being around them, they're not as bad as the past guards."

"...Officer (Y/N) has protected children countless times. I see that personally during day shifts, ensuring children are not lost in hallways."

"I know."

"She has risked her own safety."

"I know."

"She has never displayed malicious intent—"

"I know."

Every answer Bonnie gave only reinforced Freddy's confidence.

Until—

"...Then explain why she vanished."

Silence.

Freddy opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Indeed, he has been wondering the same thing. But can't it be possible that you simply had something to do? Maybe you were at home, sick, and maybe—your Fazwatch was drained of batteries? Maybe tomorrow—he'd see you by the entrance, patrolling the halls up to the Main Atrium—doing crowd control or sipping that awful sugary concoction you like so much at the bar?

But nothing came to conclude as true. In any absence or if ANYTHING at all came up—he was the first one to know.

Always.

Bonnie continued gently. "I'm not accusing her." he paused for just a second, letting the words sink in. "I don't want to." That's when he stepped closer, ensuring he had Freddy's attention. "But I can't ignore what I saw."

His voice remained calm. Measured—never forceful. "I watched Officer (Y/N) walk away with a missing child. Vanessa being with her."

"And today..." Bonnie gestured toward the empty hallway beyond the common greenroom. "...Neither of them are anywhere."

Freddy lowered his gaze.

The facts... They were facts. Not assumptions. Bonnie had described only what he witnessed. No exaggeration. No accusations.

Only observations.

And somehow...

That made it far more difficult to dismiss.

"...Freddy." Bonnie's voice was more controlled—careful. "I know you love her."

The bear's head slowly lifted.

"So, I don't expect you to believe me." He continued.

Freddy remained silent.

"I just..." Bonnie looked away. "...needed someone else to know."

The room fell quiet once more.

Only the faint hum of the overhead lights filled the silence.

Freddy stood perfectly still.

His processors replayed every memory of you.

Your smile.

Your laugh.

The way you stubbornly volunteered for consecutive shifts.

The way you comforted frightened children.

The way you reached for his hand whenever no one was looking.

None of it aligned.

None of it.

"...There must be another explanation." His voice was quieter now. More uncertain.

Bonnie nodded. "...I sincerely hope there is."

A knock interrupted them.

The common greenroom door slid open just enough for Chica to peek inside. "...Freddy?"

She blinked, expecting to see only the band leader, but there was another presence. "Oh... Bonnie's here too."

Freddy turned. "What is it, Chica?"

She hesitated. "...Everyone's looking for Officer (Y/N)."

Bonnie lowered his head, crossing his arms. "...I figured they would."

Chica looked between the two, suddenly feeling the heavy, oppressive pressure of the two figures up front. "...Did... something happen?"

Freddy and Bonnie exchanged a glance, debating who would speak first.

Freddy answered after several long seconds. "...I believe..." His words caught in his throat. "...There may be... information that the others should hear."

Bonnie quietly looked down. "...If you're sure."

Freddy wasn't.

Not even remotely.

But if what Bonnie had witnessed truly held any connection to the missing children... Then he could not keep it to himself. No matter how much it pained him. "...Gather everyone." His voice returned to its familiar authority.

"We will discuss this... together."

And somewhere deep inside his chest cavity— servos heating—not in a good way.

For the first time since meeting you—

Doubt quietly took root.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The atmosphere inside the common greenroom was... heavy.

Usually, the room was anything but.

The couch by the far wall remained littered with plush toys you insisted on collecting despite Freddy repeatedly telling you there was "insufficient space for the quantity you possess." The décor—inspired from your avid desire to collect merchandise of their namesakes—it reminds him of how heavy he carries this burden of doubt.

Everything about the room screamed that you'd be back.

Eventually.

Freddy stood near the center of the room, his hands folded behind his back as he stared absentmindedly at the couch.

It had only been several hours.

Several hours since Bonnie claimed he'd seen you.

Several hours since you vanished without so much as leaving a message.

He had searched nearly everywhere he reasonably could.

Yet...

Nothing.

A knock echoed against the greenroom door.

"Come in."

The door slid open.

Monty entered first.

"What'd ya need us for?"

Behind him came Chica, quietly holding a pizza box she clearly had no intention of eating from. Roxy followed shortly after, arms crossed as she glanced around the room.

"...She's still not back?" Roxy asked.

Freddy slowly shook his head.

"...No."

Chica looked toward the couch. No one spoke for a few moments.

It was strange.

Normally, you'd already be sprawled across the couch by now, complaining about management, teasing Monty until he snapped back, stealing slices from Chica's pizza, or asking Roxy to brush your hair simply because "she's better at it."

Instead...

Only silence remained.

Bonnie quietly stepped inside last, gently closing the door behind him.

He looked around the room before his gaze settled on the couch.

"...Feels empty."

Freddy lowered his head.

"...It does."

Freddy earlier had asked Chica and Bonnie to round everyone up—taking an hour in respect to letting the others complete their tasks prior arrival.

Bonnie sighed softly. "...I wish this conversation wasn't necessary."

Monty immediately frowned. "What conversation? The hell did you do this time?"

Freddy looked toward everyone gathered inside.

"I asked you all here because..." He hesitated. "...Bonnie informed me of something concerning."

Monty's expression immediately shifted. "...Bonnie?"

"Regarding Officer (Y/N)... and Vanessa."

The room grew still.

Bonnie rubbed the back of his neck. "I wasn't planning on saying anything." He offered a small, almost apologetic smile. "But another child disappeared."

"...I don't think I should keep quiet anymore."

Monty leaned against the wall nearest the door. "Then say it, stop dwindling around already."

Bonnie nodded once. "...Yesterday. Just before closing, I was walking through one of the service corridors... I saw Vanessa."

Bonnie continued after that pause. "...Officer (Y/N) was with her. And... there was this boy."

The room fell silent.

Chica frowned. "...A guest?"

"He looked frightened. I asked what was happening. But they didn't answer. I thought maybe it was some sort of security situation." Bonnie shrugged lightly. "So, I followed. They disappeared somewhere inside the Utility Tunnels."

Monty immediately folded his arms. "...That's it?"

Bonnie looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that's all ya got?" the temper-known animatronic crossed arms and clicked his mechanical tongue. "You saw Y/N with a scared kid. So?"

Bonnie remained patient. "The child who disappeared this morning..." He looked toward Freddy. "...Looked like the same one."

Monty clicked his jaw. "...Looked. Not 'was.'"

Bonnie nodded. "I never claimed certainty."

"You sure are implying it."

Freddy finally spoke, already at his wits end from all of this.

"Montgomery."

"I'm only asking him questions." He lifted his arms up in exasperation, concluding to point at the bunny. "Because come on, you can't seriously—"

"And he shall answer." Freddy's voice remained calm. "But allow him to finish."

Monty rolled his eyes but gestured with a claw. "...Fine."

Bonnie looked almost reluctant as he reached into the maintenance satchel resting beside the door. "...There's... one more thing."

He carefully pulled out a familiar phone.

Freddy's optics widened. "...Officer (Y/N)'s phone."

Chica gasped. "Where'd you find that?"

"In one of the service corridors." Monty's eyes immediately narrowed. "...You found it."

"I did."

"And didn't think ta tell anybody? Not even return the gal's stuff? What are you, a creep?"

"I wanted to see if there was any information that might explain what I witnessed."

Monty looked ready to argue again.

Instead, Bonnie quietly unlocked the phone.

"I found... this."

He tapped the screen, a recording began to play. There's static, footsteps against concrete, and the faint hum of ventilation fans. For several seconds, neither voice speaks.

"Three kids, you think that's enough?"

"We don't have much time."

"He won't come back with this few."

"I know, Freddy's starting to ask."

"Lay him off your case."

"Bonnie is suspicious."

"Then turn them off, keep them distracted."

"Is this really okay?"

"We don't have a choice anymore. Just a little more remnant."

"... He'll be back."

The recording ended with static in the background, cut. The noise in the recording sounded like you and Vanessa were dragging—something, heavy and scratchy along concrete. For a long minute, everything was silent, and Freddy—for once, couldn't object the authenticity since the voice was clearly you. There were no signs of audio alteration or software editing—it was raw, a file recorded audio-wise, unedited.

"Freddy...?"

"If Officer (Y/N) and Officer Vanessa... truly did such thing... I'll personally see to it that... they meet the sanctions accordingly. I..." for once, he trailed off, his nano-second intelligence failing to retrieve the right word.

"... I won't tolerate her."

Everyone was quiet, faces unreadable after Freddy's resolute words, but Monty—he looked like he has something to say—a lot of them do, but not a word was left. Monty looked like he was close to finding something heavy and jagged to wreck his co-animatronic out of existence but couldn't.

Monty didn't wait for Freddy to dismiss them, knowing whatever words he say would fall onto deaf ears (or servers, whichever works). The moment the atmosphere inside the common greenroom became too unbearable to tolerate, he pushed himself off the wall and headed straight for the door. The automatic panels barely had enough time to slide open before he disappeared into Rockstar Row without another word, his heavy footsteps echoing down the corridor.

"...Monty?" Chica called after him, confused by his sudden departure.

He never answered.

Only the rhythmic thuds of metal against polished flooring lingered until even those gradually faded into the bustling ambience of the Pizzaplex.

Roxy quietly watched the doorway for a moment before letting out an exasperated sigh. "...He's going to do something stupid."

"He's upset," Chica replied, though there wasn't much confidence in her voice. "We all are."

"Exactly why we shouldn't leave him alone." Without waiting for Freddy or Bonnie to stop them, the two exchanged a glance before following after the alligator.

*~*~*~*~*~*~

It didn't take long to find him.

Monty was already halfway toward the Daycare entrance, walking with enough purpose that employees instinctively stepped aside (or their wheels did the running) to avoid crossing his path. His fists remained clenched at his sides, claws flexing every so often as though he was resisting the urge to punch the nearest wall—not wanting another Fazbear sanction, again.

"You gonna tell us where we're headed?" Roxy finally asked once she'd caught up.

"The Daycare."

Roxy paused for a while, left astound. She shook her head and hurried her steps to keep up. "...Sunny?"

Monty nodded. "Bonnie barely spends time with him. But spends time with (Y/N) long enough to know her way better than we do."

He shoved open the maintenance door leading toward the colorful daycare hallways.

"If anybody's gonna tell us whether (Y/N) could pull somethin' like this..." He paused, jaw tightening. "...It's gonna be Sunny."

The daycare was unusually quiet.

Without children filling every corner with laughter and screams, the room felt strangely hollow. Toy blocks remained scattered across the floor exactly where they'd been left earlier that afternoon, and colorful drawings still covered the walls. The only sound came from the familiar melody drifting lazily through the speakers overhead.

Sunny sat atop one of the play structures, absentmindedly arranging wooden alphabet blocks into neat little towers.

The instant he noticed the three Glamrocks approaching, his smile brightened.

"Friends!" the nimble animatronic jumped—descending to land gracefully in front of them, as if his grace didn't come from the almost-invisible strings attached to his back. "You came to play?"

"...No." Monty sucked in a breath. "...Something happened." Monty didn't bother easing into the conversation. "(Y/N)."

Sunny tilted his head. "What about Officer (Y/N)?"

"They're sayin' she helped kidnap one of the missing children."

The smile vanished completely. "...No."

It wasn't a hesitant answer.

It wasn't even thoughtful.

Just...

No.

"Officer (Y/N) protects children, that's already obvious coming from me. Heck, she does a WAY better jobs than those lousy daycare attendants that are lame excuses for babysitters."

His eyes moved between each of them. Roxy quietly folded her arms. "That's what we've been saying."

Monty looked away. "...Bonnie claims he saw her with Vanessa and one of the missing kids."

Sunny remained silent for several moments.

Not because he doubted your character.

Rather...

Because something wasn't adding up.

"...Bonnie said that?"

Monty nodded. "And somehow he found her phone. There was a recording, he says it's proof. But I just—I think there's foul play, you know? This—this doesn't sound... real."

Sunny looked down toward the scattered toys beneath his feet. Just earlier, he was supposed to clean up but—something else warranted his attention now.

"...Strange."

"What is?" Chica asked, perking from behind Monty where she—for some reason, finds solace in confrontation with Monty up front.

He crouched down, absentmindedly picking up a toy bear before placing it back exactly where it'd fallen—a small table where plush toys were supposed to be placed so that the kids can grab as they please.

"I watch children every day. I like the job—its what I'm made for, but its different with her around." True as it was, despite being a security guard, you were sometimes Sunny's assistant in keeping an eye on the kids when the actual staff on duty are too bored to do their obligations. You played with kids, wore blanket capes and play-chased them in the play structures when lights are out—you two were a power duo in the daytime, even though its not majorly part of your job description to be a jack of all trades—but you were so in your nature when with Sunny and the kids.

Sunny looked back toward them. "You know, she doesn't show it but... she's a really nice person. If Bonnie is insinuating, she'd be involved in whatever disappearing trick the children are on with, then this doesn't add up." His expression softened.

Silence settled between them. Roxy couldn't help lowering her gaze. "...Then what are we missing?"

Sunny slowly shook his head. "I don't know either but think about it, do you really think they would do such a thing? Sure, I don't really know much about Officer Vanessa but (Y/N)? you'd be pulling my leg sideways."

Chica visibly shivered. "We were alright before, we were friends—more than we ever did than in the past. I just don't understand why—suddenly people are just turning in on each other!"

Sunny looked at her—hesitant, but gently placed a slender hand over the animatronic, awkwardly patting her shoulder like—he was used to doing this to kids but not... animatronics. "You know, the best way around this is to just ask Bonnie directly... Then questions will answer themselves."

"And if he does not..." Sunny smiled sadly. "...Then truth eventually catches lies."

Monty understood immediately.

There would be no more speculation.

No more guessing.

Only confrontation.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

By the time Monty reached Rockstar Row, the Pizzaplex had already fallen asleep.

The bright lights lining the hallway still glowed as vividly as they had during operating hours, painting the empty attraction in shades of purple and cyan, yet without guests wandering between storefronts, the place felt strangely lifeless. The upbeat background music echoed softly through the vacant corridors, broken only by the rhythmic clang of Monty's footsteps against the polished floor. Every step carried purpose. Every step carried anger.

He spotted Bonnie almost immediately.

The rabbit stood in front of the small performance stage, absentmindedly adjusting one of the guitars that had been left behind after the final show. His posture remained relaxed, almost casual, as though the conversation from earlier had never taken place. As though he hadn't just shattered the trust that had held the Glamrocks together for years.

Bonnie noticed the approaching footsteps and looked over his shoulder, offering the same familiar smile he'd worn all evening. "...Monty."

Monty stopped only a few feet away. His jaw tightened as he stared at the rabbit, the silence between them stretching long enough for Bonnie's smile to slowly fade into something more uncertain.

"We need to talk."

Bonnie inclined his head, carefully setting the guitar back onto its stand before turning to face him completely. "I figured we would," he replied, his tone remaining calm despite the obvious hostility before him. "About Officer (Y/N), I presume?"

The mention of your name alone was enough.

Before Bonnie could react, Monty's fist crashed into the side of his face with enough force to send the rabbit stumbling into one of the decorative pillars lining Rockstar Row. Metal groaned beneath the impact, and part of Bonnie's cheek plating shifted out of place with an audible crack.

For a brief moment, neither of them moved.

Bonnie slowly straightened himself, bringing a hand to the loosened faceplate. There was no anger in his expression—only disappointment.

"...Feel better?"

Monty's nostrils flared--figuratively.

"The hell d'you think?"

His voice echoed sharply through the empty hallway as he advanced again, every word dripping with restrained fury.

"You walk back into our lives after all this time, and suddenly everybody starts turnin' on each other."

Bonnie sighed quietly, brushing invisible dust from his shoulder. "Monty, I understand you're upset."

"No." Monty jabbed a claw into Bonnie's chest plate hard enough to make the rabbit take a step back. "You don't."

His breathing had become uneven now, every sentence growing louder than the last.

"Vanessa disappears."

Another shove.

"Then (Y/N) disappears."

Bonnie remained silent.

"And somehow you've got an answer for every damn thing."

The accusation lingered between them.

Bonnie finally met his gaze.

"I only told Freddy what I witnessed."

"Bullshit."

"I have no reason to lie."

"You've got every reason."

Monty's tail lashed violently behind him. "Ever since you came back, Freddy ain't thinkin' straight anymore." A fist flew—but paused just centimeters from wrecking the other animatronic's face.

"Montgomery."

Freddy's voice cut cleanly through the corridor before either animatronic realized he had arrived.

Monty didn't even need to turn around. He recognized the urgency in Freddy's tone immediately.

The bear approached quickly, with Chica and Roxy only a few paces behind him. His optics moved between the shifted plating on Bonnie's face and Monty's raised fists before a weary sigh escaped his voice box.

"...Please." Without hesitation, Freddy stepped between them, placing himself squarely in front of Bonnie. It wasn't an aggressive gesture, nor one meant to challenge Monty. Instead, it resembled someone desperately trying to keep two members of his family from hurting one another.

"Montgomery," Freddy began gently, his ears lowering ever so slightly. "I understand that you are angry. Believe me when I say that I share your concern for Officer (Y/N). But this is not the way."

Monty laughed bitterly, though there wasn't a trace of humor behind it.

"The way?" he repeated. "You heard what he said back there."

"I did."

"You heard that damn recording."

"I did."

"And you're still standin' in front of him."

Freddy hesitated.

His hesitation was all the answer Monty needed.

"You actually believe him more than you trust your woman? You're pathetic."

"I..." Freddy faltered, visibly struggling to choose his words. "I do not know what to believe."

"Then why're ya protectin' him?"

"Because I refuse to let another member of this band be harmed while emotions are clouding our judgment."

Monty's expression hardened. "He already hurt us."

Freddy shook his head.

"No."

"He did."

"No."

"He turned everybody against (Y/N)!"

"He presented evidence."

"It ain't evidence until (Y/N) says its real!"

Monty's voice boomed through Rockstar Row, startling even Chica into taking a step backward.

"It's a story and a phone! That's all it is! Ever since he showed up, everybody's disappeared, everybody's fightin', and you still can't see what's happenin'!"

Freddy's shoulders tensed. "Enough."

"No."

"Montgomery—"

"I said no."

The alligator tried to sidestep him.

Freddy matched the movement immediately, refusing to let him pass.

"Please."

That single word came quieter than any command Freddy had spoken all night.

"I am asking you... as your friend. Can't we all just step back and—"

For just a heartbeat, Monty stopped. Then his gaze shifted past Freddy toward Bonnie.

"...Move."

"I cannot."

"This is between that bastard and me. Move."

"I cannot."

Monty's patience finally snapped.

"I SAID MOVE DAMNIT!" He shoved Freddy aside—not hard enough to damage him, but enough to force the larger animatronic to stumble a single step.

The hallway fell silent.

Freddy looked down at the hand Monty had used to push him before slowly closing his eyes.

His shoulders sagged.

When he spoke again, the authority had returned to his voice, though it was laced with unmistakable sorrow.

"...Forgive me." His voice shifted—accessing a certain protocol embedded in their shared network.

"Emergency Maintenance Override," Freddy said quietly, each word sounding heavier than the last. "Authorization: Glamrock Freddy. Subject: Montgomery Gator."

"What the..."

"Initiate Temporary Rest Mode."

Monty instinctively took another step forward.

He never finished it.

The lights behind his visor flickered violently before dimming altogether. His movements became sluggish, his knees buckled beneath him, and before gravity could claim him entirely, Freddy caught him by the shoulders and gently lowered him to the floor.

For several seconds...

No one spoke.

Freddy remained kneeling beside the offline alligator, one hand resting lightly against his shoulder as though expecting him to wake up at any moment.

"...I'm sorry," he whispered, though whether he was apologizing to Monty or to himself, not even he seemed to know.

But in the eyes of the rest? It was horrifying. Freddy held the highest authority of them all, he could shut them all in just a command—but that's the scary part. They trusted him to never take away their autonomy—but some things are... for the best interest of others.

Or rather, to prevent another animatronic from ending up decommissioned once again.

His optics lingered on his friend's motionless face, and for the first time that evening, the certainty he had forced himself to maintain began to crumble.

"...I'm sorry," he murmured quietly.

Whether the apology was meant for Monty, for himself, or for everyone present who once thought he'd never do such a thing.

A gentle hand settled against his shoulder.

Bonnie.

The rabbit's voice remained calm, almost comforting, as though what had just happened had merely been an unfortunate necessity.

"You made the correct decision, Freddy. He was becoming violent."

Freddy didn't answer immediately. His gaze never left Monty.

"He was not listening," Bonnie continued softly. "Had you allowed him to continue, someone could have been seriously damaged."

"...Perhaps."

Freddy's reply came after a long silence. "But... he's still..."

Bonnie's expression softened with sympathy.

"And because he is your friend, you stopped him before he made a mistake he could never take back. You know what happens to violent animatronics, right? They get dismantled, decommissioned—and maybe locked underground to who knows how long as punishment."

Freddy closed his eyes. He wanted those words to reassure him.

Instead, they only seemed to make the weight pressing against his chest cavity even heavier.

Bonnie offered his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping away.

"If it makes you feel better, I shall notify Parts and Service that Monty has entered an emergency rest cycle, let's just say its mandatory repairs for failing servos. Until then... perhaps you should remain here, you really need rest."

Freddy gave only a faint nod. To many things happened lately—he's been losing his composure more often than not.

Without another word, Bonnie turned and disappeared down the corridor, his footsteps gradually fading into the silence of Rockstar Row.

Roxy didn't take her eyes off him until the automatic doors slid shut behind his back.

Only then did she finally speak.

"...Freddy."

The bear slowly lifted his head.

"There was something wrong with Bonnie."

Freddy frowned, clearly exhausted. "What do you mean? What is it this time? Does everyone have something wrong with them now? Is something wrong with you? Me?"

"When Monty punched him..." Roxy began, choosing her words carefully, "his faceplate shifted."

She stepped toward where Bonnie had been standing only moments ago, gesturing absentmindedly toward her own jaw.

"I saw his endoskeleton."

Chica looked up in confusion.

"...His endoskeleton?"

Roxy nodded.

"It wasn't Bonnie's."

The hallway fell quiet.

Freddy's expression remained unreadable, though the slight twitch of his ears betrayed his confusion.

"Roxanne," he said patiently, "that is quite a serious accusation."

"I'm not accusing anybody."

"You just did."

"No."

Roxy shook her head, frustration creeping into her voice.

"I'm telling you what I saw. See, this is your problem. You've been coddling all over Bonnie that you start to distrust all of us. You know my eyes, you know what I can see." She folded her arms tightly across her chest. "We've all been through maintenance hundreds of times. We know what each other's frames look like. We all saw each other bare."

Freddy remained silent.

"The support brackets around his jaw were different," she continued. "The neck actuators weren't where they're supposed to be, and the wiring under his cheek plating..." She paused, trying to recall the image as clearly as possible. "...It wasn't routed the way Fazbear builds Glamrock endoskeletons."

Chica slowly looked between the two of them. "...Could maintenance have replaced something?"

Roxy immediately shook her head. "Not the whole structure. Sure, Freddy's part of the originals but the Glamrock structure is different."

She looked directly at Freddy. "I know what I saw."

The authoritative animatronic exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand across his forehead plate as though trying to ease an ache that wouldn't go away. Or the overheating of his servos from retrieving data files and processing them all at once.

"...Roxanne."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

His voice remained calm, but it carried an unmistakable firmness now. "We have spent the last hour questioning each other about Officer (Y/N), Officer Vanessa, and the missing children."

His optics lowered briefly toward Monty. "Then Montgomery questioned Bonnie, because Bonnie said he saw something." His shoulders sagged. "And now..."

He looked back at Roxy. "...You are asking me to question him as well."

"Because something's wrong!"

"There is no proof."

"There doesn't need to be!"

"There does. Everything needs to be backed with facts, you can't judge out of prejudice. If you want me to believe you, then show me, because I can't take your words as facts knowing that you're defending Monty blindly." His response came sharper than intended. The words lingered between them, leaving all three animatronics momentarily stunned.

Freddy took a slow breath before continuing. "I have already watched this band begin to tear itself apart tonight. I was just concerned about Officer (Y/N) because that's my duty, both as the Pizzaplex's central network, and her partner. But it stemmed to various situations that until now—I cannot determine who is right or wrong." His voice trembled ever so slightly. "I refuse to stand here and allow more suspicion to drive us further apart, not without proper evidence."

Roxy stepped forward anyway. "But Freddy—"

"No." The interruption was immediate. It wasn't loud.

It didn't need to be.

The authority in Freddy's voice was enough to silence the corridor. "I will not hear another accusation."

Chica instinctively took a small step backward. Even Roxy hesitated. Freddy looked at the two of them, and for a fleeting moment, the exhaustion in his optics gave way to something far more frightening.

Fear.

Not fear of Bonnie.

Not fear of Monty.

Not fear of you.

But fear of losing everyone.

"If either of you continue this," he said quietly, each word measured despite the emotion threatening to break through, "if you continue pursuing Bonnie without evidence or anyone else for the matter—same with Montgomery... then you will force me to intervene."

Roxy frowned. "...Intervene?"

Freddy swallowed—figuratively, his next words clearly pained him to say.

"I will invoke the emergency maintenance protocols."

Silence.

Even Freddy seemed horrified by what had left his own mouth.

Chica's eyes widened. "...Freddy..."

"I do not wish to." His voice cracked for the first time that night. "But I cannot permit this band to destroy itself."

He looked from Chica to Roxy, the regret in his expression impossible to hide.

"I have already lost Officer (Y/N), and you have no idea how much it impacts my operational capacity to not know where or how she is currently faring." His gaze drifted briefly toward Monty's unconscious form. "I refuse to lose anyone else from things that even I cannot control."

Neither Roxy nor Chica answered. Roxy's jaw tightened, disappointment written plainly across her face, while Chica lowered her gaze to the floor, unable to reconcile the Freddy standing before her with the one who had always believed in every member of their family.

As the silence settled over Rockstar Row once more, only one thought lingered in Roxy's mind. Freddy wasn't protecting Bonnie anymore.

He was protecting the fragile hope that their band could still be put back together.

And that hope was blinding him to the truth.

"So, don't force my hand, please? I'm not perfect, I can break down, and when I do? I don't know what my capacity could push me to do. If situation permits me to take action towards an undesirable outcome..."

"I don't know if I can still control myself."