There are a lot of people Sans has to contact on the drive over. He catches up with the gang on the 'mixup', he texts Grillby that he's okay and no need to worry, and he catches up with Liz on what really happened. They text in short replies, trying to sort through everything before Sans would have to spend the rest of the night under his brother's watchful eyes.

Liz really hadn't found him. After Papyrus had shown up, she said, she had a panic attack and had tried to find Sans. And, she admitted quietly, she had gone through all of the suits in the back of the pizzeria to try to find him or any dust. She was going to call Grillby if Sans hadn't been found the next morning.

He's very much glad he had woken up when he did. One wrong misstep, and everything would have been revealed at the worst possible time.

Sans tries not to stress about it. He tries to focus on his little bro, ripe with worry as he fusses over blankets and movies for that night. Sans lets the movies run on and lets his brother make his spaghetti.

Either way, the two brothers spend the night watching stupid fun movies, eating decent food and just basking in each other's company. They rarely get to spend alone time like this anymore. Since Sans works the night shift and sleeps through the day, and since Papyrus is more often than not on tour or traveling about for his show, the two never really got a decent schedule to hang out consistently one on one. When Papyrus has free time, it's spent with all of their friends, who are just as eager to listen to his rants and eager tone.

Sans enjoys it. But he knows it won't happen again for a while.

The next day comes in a flash. Sans feeds his fish, watches some TV, and stops by Grillby's when the sky gets dark to check in with how some of his old friends are doing. The dogs were great; per usual. Grillby looks utterly relieved to see Sans up and about without a single scratch on him. Liz stops by right when Sans is leaving to drop off some photos on a hard drive.

Apparently, she muttered to him on his way out, they didn't fully clean out the animatronics from when they had been caught before. If there had been any additional bodies those had been removed, but the old suits hadn't been washed or even wiped down afterward. So she took a few photos when she had been searching for Sans.

Good call on her part.

Sans apologizes to Undyne, who looks at him firmly and grits out (through her teeth) that it wasn't any problem. He's going to have to make sure to buy her something as a thanks. After all, she had been stuck up until 3 AM because Sans hadn't kept his phone in his pocket.

Sans spent the day going through his notifications and making sure he caught up on his sleep. Papyrus had spammed Sans with so, so many messages. Mettaton sent him around six messages, trying to bargain with him to appear as if Sans had been hiding or something. Frisk sent him one single message. 'Is this because of Freddy's Pizza?'

Sans didn't respond to that.

He returns to the Fazbear franchise building with a lot of questions. Sans waves off Liz as she locks the building, her expression looking strained as she gives a shallow wave back. Frankly, after what happened, Sans is very lucky to be alive right now. He's incredibly lucky.

The animatronics are all situated back where they're meant to be when the clock strikes twelve, allowing for Sans to walk forward and watch as they practically spring to life. The air was damp as Sans sucked in a breath, watching Bonnie clink and clack as he climbed down from the stage and approached Sans.

"Are you..." Bonnie drags his practically glowing eyes over Sans, the lights having been dimmed due to saving some electricity. Apparently, one of the generators was shot through, according to an email Sans received that morning. Fantastic. "Fine?"

"Fine?" Sans echoes.

Bonnie makes a move that looks kind of like a shrug. "Fine. Not sure what word to use."

"Fine works," Sans says, because what else can he say? He's not great. He's not terrible. He understands why Bonnie chose that word. None of them would ever be 'great'. "I'm fine. I just got a few questions about last night."

Chica is already stalking off towards the kitchen, a completely torn squeaky dog toy dangling from her mouth as she moves. Sans is going to have to buy a few more of those as he tries to figure out an alternative.

"We moved your things," Freddy explains slowly. He's looking at Sans with a blank expression. "We moved them to a safe place. Hidden. So visitors don't steal them. Forgot your phone, though..."

"Did that include me?" Sans asked. "Were you the ones that moved me?"

Freddy shakes his head. It's an odd noise, one Sans doesn't think he'll ever quite forget. An odd, twisting motion that drags quickly through the air, like a sharp whistle. His head might need some tinkering for that.

"The Puppet. They moved you. To keep you safe from Foxy."

That's what he thought. It made sense, to an extent. That the Puppet was the one who put him there - after all, the box was the Puppet's. But why. Why did it try to grab him the first time they met? Why did it hide him, and then just... stalk him? No explanation. Not a single word from the Puppet.

Sans glances over at the box. Sure enough, the Puppet is out and is just... watching. Like always. He makes sure to wave, because that seems to be the only type of acknowledgment the Puppet responded to. The Puppet, per usual, waved back. Sans isn't sure if this is going to become a thing or not. He hopes not. But he knows it probably will.

"Why? Why does it... tolerate me?" Sans asks Freddy. He's incredibly thankful Freddy is now willing to talk to him more because Sans isn't sure he would have gotten the same answers from Bonnie, who seems content to watch the two converse.

Freddy continues to stare for a moment. "The Puppet. They helped us. When we were..."

Killed went unspoken.

"They were here before any of us, when we woke up they were... they were already here, in the suit," Bonnie elaborates.

Sans narrows his eyes at the large rabbit animatronic. How many fucking murders took place in this stupid establishment? Could they just stop killing kids for five seconds?

It doesn't make sense. It just doesn't. All Sans knows is that a security guard from like... what, twenty years ago? Thirty? A guard from so long ago impulsively killed a group of children in the back. Freddy had said it was just them. But Mangle is possessed. So is the Puppet. And there are other stories with other hidden tales of disappearances.

This isn't a one-time instance. There's something deeply wrong with this place, something hiding away in the shadows. It doesn't make sense at all. There's no way all of this spawned from one single security guard who happened to be a horrible person. There's more. There's so much more, and Sans isn't sure where to begin.

"Well, uh..." Sans turns to the animatronics around him. The three mains. The Puppet. Mangle, who's holding a toy expectantly for him. Sans makes sure to throw it before he sighs, deep and slow. "Thank you all, for yer help. You guys hid the stuff and me, so uh... thank you."

"You brought us toys," Chica hums out. "So thank you back. Even if the math was unfun. I liked it..." She pinches her fingers together. "This much."

"We're on the same team now," Sans says. "Of course. Let me know if yer guys ever need anything. I'll try to get it for you."

It's weird, saying that, but now it almost feels natural. They are on the same team now, officially. Allies. Odd allies, for sure, but allies nevertheless. So Sans nods at them and gives them a somewhat genuine smile.

"If you guys wanna go get the stuff, we can keep... uh, playing," Sans says. "But I do need to do a few things while we do that. I gotta pick out some stuff from Chica since she ate playdough, and uh..."

Sans turns to look at the Puppet again. It continues to stare.

"I was wondering if I could check on your code, at all."

The Puppet nods slowly. Alright. Cool. Glad it's not at all creepy or unsettling. Glad he could spend every night for the rest of his life with this thing. Totally fine.

They begin the night rather simply. After Sans clears through all of the pressing questions he had and gets pretty mediocre answers, he cleans out Chica's chest cavity (again) before he moves to check over the Puppet's code. Frankly, he's glad his sleeping in that box was nothing but a misunderstanding. The Puppet just relocated him since it thought it would be safer. About it.

The Puppets code, too, has nothing to it. The code was way more coherent, though, and served plenty more functions. The Puppet was completely coded to move and function correctly, with the advertised claim of protection actually being legit. Sans was not expecting it. Good code actually stared back at him as he scrolled through it. Barely any if-then statements. Sans was almost proud.

But, then again, it's concerning just how much this thing was coded to protect children. As if the person who designed it knew how dangerous the rest were.

This animatronic wasn't even... like the others.

Sans stares up at the Puppet as he unplugs his computer from the port, watching its blank expression stare at him. The safest, out of the bunch. Definitely a dead child or some dead person, there's no doubt about that. But the design was completely different. A tall, slender body. Made from entirely different parts from the other animatronics. The interior, as Sans cracks open the chest cavity, was solid. An almost perfect design. Limbs that needed next to no maintenance. Code that was built to hear a child's cry and come running. To prioritize children's needs, to keep them safe, and relocate them to a safe area. By all accounts, this animatronic was built for protection and security.

Which means... why the fuck did it completely shut down with music? Why was it so inherently different from the others?

Sans, as he looks back at Chica, doesn't think the two were made by the same people. At all. Chica and the others were... built differently. Obviously, they were, their designs screamed difference, but at the same time, he could just tell two completely different people worked on them. They were wired differently, designed by two different minds.

The Puppet almost felt like a response to the other animatronics.

Which is weird. They said the Puppet was already built and possessed before those kids were killed. As if whoever built the Puppet knew what was bound to happen. As if they predicted it, and wanted to stop it with this thing.

Clearly that didn't work. But still.

And the odd line of code at the bottom had caused Sans to pause. The music. A complete shutdown when a certain type of music was played. As if someone wanted this thing disabled for certain moments. Hastily smacked onto the bottom of the code.

Was that why it was offsite for a few months? Were the higher-ups trying to disable it so the animatronics could possibly hurt more people? Or was the code added before they disabled it?

He's not sure. From the files on the Puppet, Sans could tell that the last line of code had been added after the code was complete, but it didn't have time stamps or anything. All that he knew was that it was a change.

So many questions still.

Just how far did Sans want to go in this rabbit hole? He's not sure. His plans have become so warped and twisted that anything was a guess at this point. He might as well keep pressing. Sans can't do anything but continue forward, not with everything that's already happened. He's already put in so much effort that giving up just... wasn't an option.

Sans makes a mental note to pursue these questions. He needs to find out who the night guard was that did the killings. He needed to find out the two people who made the animatronics, and then find out just how much this conspiracy theory spirals.

For now, though, he lets himself play with undead children's souls making play dough structures.

Foxy still doesn't show up, so Sans makes sure to leave behind some play dough containers near Pirates Cove. He may think the fox is a brat, but he can't leave the thing bored day in and day out. It's his extended olive branch, in a way. And that's all the fox is getting. Because Foxy is a bitch, even if he is an undead soul.

The Puppet never speaks, but it seems content to just sit there and watch everything go down. The Puppet is Freddy to an extreme.

He's getting to know the animatronics more, slowly but surely. They are now willing to completely hold conversations with him, and him them. It's still awkward by all accounts, but they're all trying, so he supposes it counts. Especially since he's sure he's the first real person they've spoken with since since they've died.

Either way, time continues. Sans clocks out of his shift just as the head cook comes up to unlock the doors.

It's the first time Sans has officially met the man. He's a tall lean type, with thin shoulders and dreads sticking tightly to his head. He's got a disinterested expression as he nods towards Sans, apron draped over his shoulder.

"It's nice to see you again, Sans," The stranger says to Sans as he walks out.

Sans observes him gently. Dark eyes, dark skin, with a tattoo wrapping around his fingertips. Vines with little flower buds growing from them. He seems like a basic guy, a typical day shift worker who doesn't seem to know anything about the death trap this building was.

"Again?" Sans asks. "Sorry, I don't think I've met ya. Sorry. Comic Sans, local night guard, and engineer." He sticks out a hand.

"Terrence. Terrence Hayen." The cook leans forward and shakes Sans' hand. His grip is light, and he withdraws quickly to glance at his hands. A small piece of playdough was now smeared along his thumb, and Sans had never been so embarrassed so quickly in his life.

"Sorry about that," Sans apologizes quickly. "And sorry I don't recognize ya."

"It's fine. I only saw you once - from the hall, I was on my way to the bathroom during that party. Haven't had a chance to meet you officially until today," Terrence explains. He's got a deep voice, the type that sounds naturally bored and almost silky no matter how his mood is. "And I only really heard about you when Liz burst into the kitchen and asked for me to check around for you. I'll say, I was impressed - never seen that girl freak out so bad before. Made an impression on her, that's for sure."

"Oh, that? Just a misunderstanding," Sans explains quickly.

He's... this man knows something.

Sans can tell. By the way, he speaks, the way he moves. It's not that he's calm, it's that he's a man who always appears naturally calm. He's got a poker face. But this man isn't talking to him just for pleasantries. Sans can tell. He's good at looking for that kind of stuff.

"I suppose," Terrence says as if Sans just shat a brick on the sidewalk, but his tone says it like they're discussing a typical brunch breakfast. It's an odd balance Terrence has, but by god does he own it. "Is that what the Manager told you to say?"

There's a breeze in the parking lot. The sky, still dark, seems to almost hold a breath as if the rolling orange on the horizon drew to a stop at the sudden comment.

Sans blinks. Terrence keeps looking down at Sans.

"Whatcha mean?" Sans asks, despite the fact that he knows full well what Terrence is getting at.

Please tell him. Please confirm it. Sans needed to hear the words, straight from the man's mouth. His bones are practically buzzing with anticipation as he waits, his joints stiff.

Terrence nods gently. Like he's already gotten Sans figured out.

"The last night guard..." Terrence draws out, taking his sweet time. Sans wants to shake him and demand answers, but Terrence continues at his own pace. Sans wonders how much of it is an act. "Fritz. I knew him, I'd say very well."

Sans swallows. He feels parched. He feels on the edge of a cliff, dangling without much patience to hold him there for much longer. "Did ya?"

How much does this man know?

When Liz didn't know, he just... he had assumed none of the other workers knew. He hadn't really thought it was worthwhile getting to know them. Now he wants to slap his past self, with each word Terrence spoke.

The kitchen camera was always disabled.

Sans needs to know. He's practically dying over here.

"Fritz wasn't the smartest cookie in the jar. But one thing we had in common, well, was that we both liked to play online together. I know - odd, for a big man. But yeah. I like to cook, I like to play Animal Crossing with my twelve-year-old daughter. Fritz would play with us sometimes, he and I had our own Stardew Valley world. He liked to connect with his coworkers whenever he could. Wherever he could. And if we had a Discord server together, well... it was his alt account. No one knew it was him but me and my daughter. Sometimes he'd send me audio clips of funny things. Cute cats. That sort of thing."

"Then..." Sans isn't stupid. Terrence knows that. Sans knows he knows that. "Then he disappeared."

"Yes. Then he disappeared. Before that, though..." Terrence glances to the side. "I suppose you've heard them already. Or something adjacent. I'm not sure what he saved for you - but judging by your expression, and some of the things I've picked up on, you have some idea."

Sans is looking at Terrence now, he supposes. He didn't expect it. He had just assumed the man had come in early for his shift and struck up a conversation with him for the sake of it. But no. Sans can see it now. Almost a reflection of himself, staring back. A man who acted because he had to, for his survival.

Sans never thought anything of it. When the emails from Management had said the cook disabled the cameras, he just assumed the reason presented as fact. He didn't delve deeper.

Sans now realizes just how much of a mistake he just made. He's reeling from the amount of information and change the past few days have presented, but by god is he thankful for it all at the same time.

"I think it's best you come inside," Terrence explains, propping the door further open. "I think you and I have a discussion to hold. I texted Liz, she's skipping school to come down and talk."

Sans doesn't argue. He slips back inside, and Terrence moves to lock the door behind them.

His fingertips are thrumming with energy as he moves forward. 

So, awkward thing, I was originally going to make the chef have a way bigger role in this fic. Then the movie released, and well, we kinda have another character I want to implement, so uh... poor Terrence. He's getting a smaller role.

Working on just cleaning up my social medias now. I'm actually probably going to retire my drawing tablet for this account. I think BubblyShip is just going to be solely a Wattpad/A03 fanfic account and nothing more. No more streams or art, or videos or anything of that sort. Just classic fanfics like how I started.

(I am still taking commissions lol, got 2 in the works rn)

Also, if you haven't noticed, I'm working on cleaning out my rough drafts! Spring cleaning collection on ao3 if you want to read my old ass fanfics. Talking 2021/2020 stuff over there. So old. So cringe. Feel free to enjoy lmao

Next chapter: April 1st, 2024