Chapter Text
Gregory thought that all of this was a load of bullshit.
That's right, he thought it was all bullshit.
Could you blame him though? It was his tenth birthday, he wanted to do something fun instead of just staying home. He's been alive for a whole decade, which made this birthday special!
Or, even more special because his dad always said that every one of his birthdays was special. And yet.
He couldn't even be bothered to show up for this one.
Don't get him wrong, Gregory knew his dad loved him. The sky was blue, the grass was green, and Max Darling loved his son. There was nothing he loved more than his son. Except for his work.
Which was the reason he hadn't come back home in time for Gregory's birthday party.
'Party' was a loose term. Every one of Gregory's birthdays was spent inside, eating the cake Helpy baked for him alone since Helpy couldn't eat, and desperately trying to fight off the boredom. He’s never had a proper birthday party, complete with fun activities and friends, though not for lack of trying. When he had first moved in with his dad, he had made friends at school. It took him a few months to realize that his friends were just like his dad's work partners.
Fake, hiding their true intentions behind false smiles and promises. He hardly felt bad when he stopped hanging out with them.
Gregory hadn't always lived with his dad, he used to live with his mom. Except his mom didn't really like him. She always complained that he made her work harder for her and that no client wanted to buy a night with a woman who had a child. Her already limited flow of cash became even more unstable and scarce once he came along.
And then Gregory's mom had overdosed.
He remembered that it had been only four years ago, she had been with a client at the time. And then she hadn't come home. It took several days before Gregory actually registered that something was wrong since his mom often spent nights with certain clients, more money that way. But Gregory had gotten hungry and he wasn't old enough to use the stove and all of their food had gone bad anyway.
He had seen 'Missing' posters stapled to poles before, always for animals or people around his age, but he was positive that he could put up a 'Missing' poster or two for his mom. Gregory had even told his plan to the police to make it easier to find her since the police always seemed to be in their area of the neighbourhood. Surely they had seen her at some point.
They had taken him down to the station and sat him down, telling him that his mom wasn't coming back.
Gregory had asked the officer sacked with telling him if she had abandoned him since it had seemed the most likely with the way she complained about him constantly. The officer told him that she was in a better place.
Gregory had been silent for a minute before he had asked how she died because whenever his mom talked about a 'better place', she was always referring to the rats or the homeless people on the other side of the street who were far too silent and still to just be sleeping. He was six, not an idiot.
Gregory had heard something about an overdose before things started blurring together. He remembered staying at the station for a few hours while they did some tests, trying to find out if his bio dad was even still alive. Obviously, he was.
("So," Gregory dragged out the word, kicking his legs back and forth under the plastic seat, "You're my dad," It was definitely more of a statement than a question.
The older man who was dressed in much cleaner and fancier clothes than Gregory has ever seen sighed, "I suppose I am," He answered. He had brown hair like his which was long enough to be slicked back and put into a ponytail and a slight stubble that made it look like he had forgotten to shave.
Gregory hummed, staring down at his beat-up shoes where the soles were close to falling out. The man had on polished black shoes that had clicked against the floor of the police station when he had entered, "Did you know my mom?" He asked and the man pursed his lips, "...Not that well, no," He answered after a second and Gregory nodded in acceptance. A lot of the men his mom knew didn’t really know her, he supposed his dad wasn’t too different from them.
"Did you love my mom?" Gregory asked and the man's expression became slightly uncomfortable, his sunglasses hiding whatever look he had in his eyes, "...No, I didn't," He said, "Oh, okay," Gregory replied, "I don't think she loved you either," The man inhaled quietly and turned his head away for a second.
"But it's okay," Gregory assured the man and reached over to put his hand over the older's calloused hand, "She didn't really love me either.")
But the point was, was that Gregory's dad wasn’t home and he was tired of this. Of hearing voicemail after voicemail, of sitting at an empty kitchen table for all three meals, of hearing the front door open and close late into the night. Of being alone with only Helpy to keep him company.
So. He left.
It was his birthday, he was allowed to do fun things. Even if his dad didn't know about it, though, it wasn't like he knew what Gregory did when he wasn't home anyway. And plus, Gregory didn't expect to go so far.
He sure as hell didn't expect to find himself inside Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex.
The kids at school talked about the Pizzaplex all the time, they always said it was the best place to spend a birthday. Gregory... had his doubts. But the place had looked fun enough just from the outside. And it had been even more colourful and fun-looking on the inside. Not to mention the animatronics themselves!
Gregory has seen animatronic designs, he was no stranger to the inner workings of their endoskeletons. But their casings were so much brighter and more exciting than the ads on the TV and the newspapers made them seem. He didn’t have the same fascination with the animatronics that the other kids his age did but that didn’t stop Gregory from being amazed and impressed with them. They could sing and perform and everything!
Gregory had stayed for a show. He had watched the animatronics sing and move around the stage, the crowd of children crowding around in front of the stage and cheering loudly at a near-deafening volume. Gregory had hung around as close to the crowd as he could be without actually being in said crowd. He had been spotted anyway.
Look, as nice as it was to know that security was a high priority at the Pizzaplex, it was currently the bane of his existence. A pain in his ass, if you will.
Because the truth was, was that Gregory hadn't grabbed anything before he left. He had emptied the backpack he used for school, the dark blue one covered in stars and planets, let Helpy climb inside, and then left. It had been a rushed decision on his part, he hadn't at all thought it through. He didn't exactly bring any money to really enter the Pizzaplex.
So Gregory was trying to hide while also having fun which wasn’t the easiest thing to do. Helpy had helped him by overriding the system that allowed him to come into the Pizzaplex without a proper pass and then helped him later by scanning for loose Faztokens so that he could play some arcade games in the Star Arcade. And then the security guard had found him.
She made Gregory feel... bad.
He had lived on the streets for the first six years of his life and then spent the next four sniffing out and avoiding people with bad intentions, he had a pretty good instinct when it came to finding people who meant him harm. So Gregory had been running from her since the second he had locked eyes with her.
Which was when he found himself stopping to watch the performance. Watching and hearing the animatronics perform had been exhilarating, the pounding of Monty's bass and the thrum from Chica's guitar, the high rhythm of Roxy's keytar and the low tone of Freddy's voice. The performance had distracted him from the people around him.
The security guard grabbed his arm at the same time that Freddy collapsed on stage.
The frantic crowd of complaining parents and crying children had been the perfect cover for Gregory to escape from her grasp. With Helpy quietly guiding him using a map of the Pizzaplex he had downloaded to his opticals, Gregory had been able to hide away in one of the empty storage closets near the backstage area. Close enough to any potential exits but also far away enough that it would take the security guard time to actually find him.
Helpy had been the one to inform him of it.
Freddy had collapsed, a malfunction on stage, naturally, he wouldn't get up so soon. It would take his systems a while before he was back online again. So Helpy guided him to the actual backstage and to Freddy's prone figure in the darkness.
Freddy's stomach hatch had opened almost automatically as soon as Gregory stepped close to him. He had taken off his backpack and pressed it against his stomach after making sure that Helpy wouldn't be squeezed too hard despite his metal exterior, allowing himself more wiggle room as he shuffled backwards into the small crevice with his knees pressed as close to his body as his backpack would allow.
Freddy's stomach hatch had shut a second later and Gregory's vision was blanketed in darkness.
After that was just a blur of movement and muffled voices.
At some point, whoever was outside, likely technicians, had lifted Freddy up to his feet onto some sort of cart, forcing Gregory to put one hand out against the inside of Freddy's stomach hatch so that he didn't fall forward and hit his head and the other hand over his mouth so that any noises he made were silenced.
After around twenty minutes of hushed conversations and wheels on the tiles, there was the sound of a door sliding open and Freddy was stopped. There were a few more words exchanged between the technicians before Gregory heard the door slide closed.
Gregory didn't dare make a sound or move to open Freddy's stomach hatch, unsure of where he was or when the technicians would return.
Logically, Gregory knew that he had been in the Pizzaplex for a few hours, roaming aimlessly without urgency before the security guard had spotted him. So he wasn't all that surprised to hear the overhead intercom crackle on after what felt like a few minutes later.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for visiting and we hope you enjoyed the show! Freddy and the gang are pretty tired, but they'll be back again next week after a few days of scheduled maintenance! Please make your way to the front of the building where you will be given novelty glasses, a voucher for one free soda refill, and where you will sign a legal document releasing us of all liability for anything that may have happened during your visit. Have an awesome night, and we'll see you again soon!"
Gregory almost snorted at the message before he remembered that he was supposed to be staying quiet, managing to catch and stop himself. The message was different than what he thought it would be but he supposed that after Freddy's malfunction, their closing message would be changed.
And then it hit Gregory that that was the closing message. The Pizzaplex would close in ten minutes, give or take. He almost wanted to ask Helpy what the time was but remembered that the animatronic was in his dormant mode, having not wanted any of his systematical programs to make any unnecessary noise. He would turn back on by himself and Gregory wouldn't be able to interrupt him until then.
It must've been another hour of being uncomfortably compressed before Gregory heard something in the silence surrounding him. It was the sound of that door sliding open again. He heard jingling keys and a sigh before a man spoke, "Alright, Freddy, let's see what's wrong with you."
There was the sound of a system starting up before light blue lights lit up the crevice Gregory was in and Freddy's voice reverberated through the crevice, "Mister Schmidt? Is it showtime already? I am experiencing a malfunction. The recharge cycle is not yet complete," The man sighed again, louder this time, "No, it's not showtime, Freddy. It's the same day, just after closing. You had a malfunction on stage, remember?"
"Oh," Freddy responded, somehow managing to sound both disappointed and concerned, "Did... I scared the children, didn't I?" Muffled footsteps seemed to get closer before they stopped, "You gave all of us a scare, Freddy, especially the other three," "Can you tell them I am sorry?"
The man snorted, "You can tell them you're sorry yourself once I fix what's wrong with you, big guy," The man knocked a fist against the front of Freddy's stomach hatch, likely in a joking manner.
Unprepared for it to be so close to where his face was, however, Gregory jumped in place and accidentally hit his head against the top of the crevice.
There was a pause where the silence became deafening in Gregory's ears.
"...Freddy. What was that?" The man asked in a flat tone, "I do not know, Mister Schmidt," Freddy answered. There was a longer pause of silence before Gregory had to blink away the brightness that invaded his vision when Freddy's stomach hatch was opened.
Gregory squinted and glared in annoyance at the man when his eyes got used to the bright lights of whatever room they were in, his backpack held protectively to his stomach, finding the expression staring back at him to be filled with mounting horror and confusion.
"Why the fuck is there a kid in your stomach hatch?!"
See what Gregory meant? This was a load of bullshit. And on his birthday, too.
Chapter Text
Gregory huffed and tried to glare at the man harder even though he knew he couldn't have been all that intimidating, "None of your damn business," He muttered loud enough to be heard.
Now that the brightness of the overhead lights were no longer assaulting his vision, Gregory could get a good look at the technician(?).
He was shorter than his dad and had blue eyes that were so dark that they almost looked indigo. His hair was cut like a mullet and a dull brown, not quite greasy but not quite fluffy, more tangled and knotted than anything, making it look like he hadn't picked up a brush in weeks. He had large bags under his eyes and stress wrinkles on his forehead and white bandages wrapped around his hands, going under the long sleeves of his shirt.
The man had on the same white and black uniform with a black jacket on over it as the security guard chasing Gregory a few hours ago, a baton and a flashlight attached to his belt, marking him as a security guard and not a technician as he first assumed.
Which made no sense to Gregory because the man said that he was there to fix Freddy. Why would he fix Freddy if he wasn't a technician?
"Superstar?" Freddy said in a questioning tone, "I do believe that it would be best if you exited my stomach hatch. It is built to hold oversized birthday cakes and piñatas, it is not a safe play area for children," Gregory rolled his eyes, "You think I don't know that?" He snarked back, "Your stomach hatch was just... the most convenient hiding spot," He glanced around the room, taking note of the things he could see.
The walls were bright red with pictures, drawings, posters, and LED lights hung up on all four walls. A bright orange LED light bearing Glamrock Freddy's name was on the wall above a long red and black couch which had several different-sized editions of Freddy plushies, including one limited edition discontinued Glamrock Bonnie plush that was exactly like the one Gregory had sitting on his bed.
There were a bunch of balloons in one corner of the room and a vanity mirror and desk that were the same colour as the lightning marks on Freddy's casing. The floor had Freddy's face all over it and seemed to be some sort of teal though the lights overhead didn't do the best job highlighting it.
"Hiding spot-? Kid, please tell me you weren't playing some messed-up game of hide-and-seek," The security guard said, practically pleading with him as the confusion in his expression grew. Gregory couldn't help but note that his words had an odd accent to them, one that was almost British compared to the other Utah residents that he was used to.
”Of course not,” Gregory replied and then took a second to really think about it. Because was it? A grown woman was trying to catch him for whatever reason, though it couldn't be a good one, and he had been hiding from her since she saw him, finding increasingly odd places to dodge her line of sight. Including Glamrock Freddy's stomach hatch.
"...It's more of a messed-up game of tag," Gregory added after thinking about it, "But it's an adult chasing me so it might just be a really bad attempt at kidnapping," The horror in the security guard's expression shifted into worry, "I'm sorry, what? Kidnap- Who? Do you know what they look like?"
Gregory narrowed his eyes at the man, "Of course I do, she was chasing me for, like, an hour and a half. She's really blonde and has the same uniform as you," He pointed to the guard, "She just looks less tired than you."
"You have just described Officer Vanessa," Freddy stated which was great because now Gregory knew the name of the other security guard, "Are you saying that Officer Vanessa is attempting to kidnap you? That is impossible!" He exclaimed, worry in his tone which would've been weird to hear from an animatronic if Helpy's voicebox didn't do the same thing.
"Vanessa has been acting off lately," The guard said, almost musing to himself, "She's taking her job more seriously as of late, too. Not that that's a bad thing, it's just out of character for her to be so serious about rules," Freddy tilted his head to the side, "Are you saying you don't trust Officer Vanessa?" He asked and the man made a small face, "...I'm not not saying that," He replied and Gregory rolled his eyes.
"Well, no matter what you're saying or not, I don't like her," He crossed his arms over his chest, "She was being very aggressive earlier when she was chasing me so I don't like her. There's no reason for me to trust her."
"If you would allow me to contact the main office, I could show you that this is just some sort of big misunderstanding," Freddy said in a bargaining tone that Gregory would've been more inclined to listen to if it wasn't being used to spout absolute nonsense, "Officer Vanessa likely just wants to safely reunite you with your parents."
Gregory scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest, holding his backpack even closer to him, "Yeah, right, look at me! I snuck in here, she probably thinks I don't even have any parents," It was what most adults assumed whenever they saw him, mostly based on his clothes. Gregory didn't see the problem with it, his dad never cared how he dressed so long as he was comfortable and there weren't literal holes in them.
The man sighed for the third time in under ten minutes and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Okay, okay, Freddy, let's not do that," He said, "You're disconnected from the main network anyways, the technicians didn't want your systems to affect the others' until they could figure out what happened to you on stage," The security guard looked at Gregory, "And if the kid is telling the truth, it wouldn't do any good to just give him up to Vanessa. No offence, Freddy, but I've never trusted her."
Freddy was silent for a few seconds before what sounded like a sigh escaped his voicebox, "Very well, Mister Schmidt," He replied, "Why don't you get out from there, Superstar?" Freddy's question was directed to Gregory who frowned, "Don't need to tell me twice," He said, scooting forward in Freddy's stomach hatch and peering down. He was higher up than he thought he was for just being at Freddy's torso, "I forgot how tall you are," Gregory muttered to himself.
Thanks to whatever freaky-ass hearing the animatronic had, however, Freddy seemed to hear him. He held his arms close to his open stomach hatch, making his intention clear, "No," Gregory said anyway, "I can get down myself," Still, he hesitated and didn't move for several seconds, prompting Freddy to speak again, "I do not want you to get hurt, Superstar. Please, allow me to help you."
Gregory thought about it for a second before looking at Freddy's hands. They were large, easily the same size as his head, and resembled paws, soft sensors on his palms and fingertips. His claws, which Gregory wasn't sure even had a purpose, were painted a bright and shocking teal like the lightning bolt going down from the top of Freddy's torso.
His claws were also rounded at the tips, not sharp like Monty's. They couldn't hurt him. Not easily.
Gregory huffed, slinging his backpack back over his shoulder gently enough so that Helpy wouldn't slam into his back too hard, "Fine," He said and let Freddy's hands move closer to him until they were close enough for Gregory to move forward and put himself in range of them when it became obvious that Freddy was waiting for him to make the first move. Freddy lifted him up, his hands under his armpits, and Gregory instantly regretted letting the animatronic help him down.
He was being held like a cat. This was so humiliating.
Gregory was set down barely a second later and he instantly scrambled away from both Freddy and the security guard. They both looked surprised when he moved to stand in front of the red and black couch, turning around so that his back wasn't to either of them.
"You're still an adult I don't know," Gregory explained to the guard, "I only trust you slightly more than I trust that blonde guard," For the most part, the security guard hadn't done anything that particularly irked him yet and he didn't set off his 'Danger' radar. But he was still an adult, he wasn't harmless.
"What about me?" Freddy asked, his ears drooping, "Do you not trust me?" Gregory gave him a look full of disbelief, "You wanted to give me up to that other guard not even a minute ago!" He replied as loudly as he could to emphasize his words while still being mindful of his volume.
"Okay, okay, let's just calm down," The guard said pointedly, looking between Freddy and Gregory, "Kid, we only want to help you. I understand if you don't completely trust us, but I need you to trust that I'm gonna get you out of here without Vanessa catching you, okay?"
Gregory stared at the security guard, thinking for a few seconds.
The guard wanted to help him, he said it himself, and he seemed sincere enough. If anybody knew their way around the Pizzaplex better than Helpy did, it would be somebody who actually worked there.
"Fine," Gregory said after another few seconds, "I'll trust you. But only for this," He added and the guard's shoulders dropped minutely, "Okay, that's fine, that's okay. Let's just get you out of here, kid," The man took a few steps toward the door to Freddy's room and pulled out a card clipped to a lanyard from the pocket of his uniform shirt. He pressed it against a keypad on the wall on the left side of the door.
The door automatically slid open and the guard pocketed the lanyard and card again, stepping off to the side, "Come on, let's go," He gestured to the now-open door and Gregory slowly walked forward, keeping his eye on the guard the entire time as he left Freddy's room.
"Ah, Mister Schmidt," Freddy said, "Should I stay here?" The guard glanced back at Freddy, "Yeah, it's best if you do that," He replied, "I'm just gonna walk the kid to the front doors. And you're not completely recharged and I don't want you to power down before I can fix you up and take you to a recharge station," Freddy nodded, accepting the security guard's reasoning which Gregory was grateful for.
Because while Freddy wasn't untrustworthy, Gregory wasn't entirely sure his Safety & Protection protocols were working right from the way he so easily dismissed Gregory's words about Vanessa as a 'misunderstanding'.
The animatronics in the Pizzaplex were built to entertain children. But they were also built to defend the children should even the whiff of a threat be active, equipped with protocols and procedures and hard metal casings that wouldn't even dent under anything less than a sledgehammer swung by a bodybuilder.
The door slid shut behind the two of them and Gregory suddenly became aware of how dark everything was. During the day, the neon lights had been bright enough that Gregory had almost gotten a headache just from looking at the ceiling for a few seconds and bright enough that even Helpy had to turn down his optical sensitivity.
But now, after closing when the entire Pizzaplex was empty save for the animatronics and the night guards, everything was dark. It was almost eerie and the dead silence certainly didn't provide much comfort. The only comfort the silence provided was that it'd be easier to hear Vanessa if she was close.
The security guard unclipped the flashlight from his belt and flicked it on, pointing it at the space in front of them, "Get behind me, kid," He said, his voice loud in the silence even though he was whispering. Gregory gripped the straps of his backpack tightly before slowly following the man's order. Even though he knew his way to the front entrance, he supposed it was better than having his back to the adult.
The two of them walked across the first level of the Pizzaplex for a few minutes and Gregory had nearly forgotten how large the entire place was as he hadn't really gone further than the first three levels since he got there in the afternoon. They had just gotten to the shut-down escalator, which really just made them stairs at that point, when Gregory decided to break the silence between the two of them.
"What's your name?" He asked quietly, "What?" The guard looked back at Gregory over his shoulder, "I don't want to keep calling you 'the guard' in my head. What's your name?" He repeated. The man paused for a second before he went back to facing forward and started to descend the escalator/stairs, "Mike Schmidt," He said and Gregory nodded, following a few steps behind the guard, "My name's Gregory," He supplied despite the fact that he was only going to know the man for another few minutes.
Mike hummed but didn't say anything after that. They reached the bottom of the escalator/stairs and began to walk forward, the front entrance visible past the large stature of Glamrock Freddy in the lobby. Gregory tried to remember if he had locked the front door and then he wondered if he'd be able to climb up to his bedroom window on the second floor because he definitely didn't grab his copy of the house keys. And then he tried to remember where outside his dad had hidden the spare key.
They had just reached the lobby when the intercom crackled on.
"Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex is now closed. Initiating nighttime protocols."
Gregory looked up at the ceiling as his eyebrows furrowed in response to the message. Was it really twelve already? How long had he been hiding in Freddy's stomach hatch?
A rattling noise caught his attention and he looked back down to see metal shutters begin to slide over the front entrance and Gregory could only feel panic clogging up his senses.
"No!" He said loudly and pushed past Mike, sprinting towards the entrance. His backpack was heavy, slamming against his back with every jolted step he took. Not once did Gregory even entertain the thought of dropping it and potentially hurting Helpy. Or leaving him behind if he managed to make it in time.
Gregory was small, he knew he was small for his age, it was something his dad worried about constantly despite the doctor telling him that it was normal due to the lack of actual nutritional foods while he was growing up. Gregory knew that he was small and he knew that he was fast because of this.
But he wasn't fast enough this time.
The metal shutters slid shut, sealing away the doors to the front entrance. And sealing Gregory's fate with the telltale clang of metal against the linoleum floor.
With his momentum, Gregory knocked into the shutters and fell backwards, thankfully landing on his butt and not on his back. He could already feel the bruise forming on his forehead.
He heard feet behind him, hurried and frantic in a way that matched the erratic beating of Gregory's heart. The light from Mike's flashlight got closer and brighter and then Mike stopped, standing over him and pointing his light at the sealed and locked shutters.
"Shit," Mike swore under his breath, staring at the metal shutters in shock.
"Shit," Gregory echoed, out of breath, staring up at the locked entrance with an expression of nothing short of despair.
Chapter Text
Michael had been having a good day. A great day, even.
Jeremy had gotten his paycheck and the two of them had been able to stock up on those TV dinners they loved. They could even get a head start on rent before Michael got his paycheck. Their landlord had finally called somebody in to fix the building's water so he'd been able to take a shower before his scheduled shift at the Pizzaplex.
So of course Fazbear Entertainment had to ruin that good day by sacking him with the night shift.
Working at the Pizzaplex was bad enough considering it was the only place that would hire Michael with his lack of experience and general lack of legal documents. Apparently, you didn't exist after you got murdered and your skin is worn by a tangle of sentient mangled wires. That didn't stop him from being paid below what was considered minimum wage nowadays.
The only plus side to working at the Pizzaplex was that Michael got free food after every shift and that it wasn't too far from Jeremy's apartment so he didn't have to waste money on gas to get there.
Michael had worked the night shift before, of course, and he found it to be almost relaxing. The (too) human-like animatronics didn't roam around at night and the only thing he had to really do was make sure the security and cleaning bots were on their courses while checking the cameras from within the security office. During the night shift, Michael didn't have to do much.
It was different from Freddy Fazbear's past establishments. It made sense as to why. The Pizzaplex hadn't been built or even planned out by William Afton or Henry Emily.
As far as Michael knew now, Fazbear Entertainment was run by a CEO who was younger than him, another man in Hurricane whose father built the Pizzaplex and then signed his son's name on the contract before he died from cancer. Michael didn't remember who the current CEO's father had been so he must've been somebody that Henry trusted to take care of the business after their little suicide mission.
(Which they survived. Which was a harrowing thing to think about sometimes.)
But the night shift at a Fazbear establishment was still a night shift at a Fazbear establishment, which meant that it was still a really shitty thing to deal with. And now it was something Michael had to deal with.
It had started out fine. Most bad things started out perfectly fine.
Michael had given Jeremy his goodbye kiss, allowing himself to relish in the younger man's smile and the light giggles he always let out whenever Michael kissed him. His walk to the Pizzaplex had been uninterrupted and none of his coworkers had even tried to talk to him as he punched in. Of course, he had been told that Glamrock Freddy malfunctioned and shut down on stage but Michael had hardly been disheartened by it. He wasn't going to let another night shift get him down, not when the Pizzaplex was so much safer compared to any of the other Freddy Fazbear's establishments.
To a degree, however, it would seem.
Because there had been a child in Glamrock Freddy's stomach hatch. A stomach hatch Michael hadn't even known existed, mind you.
And now, as of literal seconds ago, the child was officially trapped inside the Pizzaplex with him.
Michael held his torch steady as he kept it pointed at the metal shutters now covering the front doors of the Pizzaplex, dragging his other hand down his face. The child was sitting at his feet, his legs splayed out in front of him as he also stared at the shutters, his expression filled with more despair than Michael's.
He was trapped here, Michael reminded himself, feeling stupid for having to do so, of course he was going to be devastated.
"Hey, uh, Gregory, kid," Micheal said to get the kid's attention, "How about you get up off of the dirty floor," He took a step closer to Gregory but stopped when he quickly got to his feet, facing away from him with his hands shaking at his sides.
"Open them," Gregory said lowly, his voice shaky, "W- What?" Michael asked as though he hadn't heard the kid perfectly fine, "Unlock the doors. Let me out," He reiterated.
Michael stared down at the kid in silence for a few seconds before he sighed heavily, "Kid, I can't. As a safety precaution, the front doors are automatically locked at midnight. Nobody but the owner has the key to unlock them," Gregory's head lifted slightly to look up at the metal shutters, "So you can't do anything? You can't help me?"
Michael swallowed, "I... can't do anything, kid, I'm sorry," He answered softly, truthfully.
Gregory's shaking hands clenched into fists and he stepped forward, only to kick at the metal shutters with what seemed to be all his might. Which wasn't much, given the kid's size. It still caused a loud 'clang' to travel through the lobby space.
Michael winced in sympathy and reached his empty hand out to offer the kid some sort of condolence despite his obvious mistrust of him. Which is, of course, when Gregory decided to say something that made him freeze.
"This was the worst fucking birthday ever..."
Michael quickly withdrew his hand and watched Gregory with wide eyes. The curse word didn't surprise him, he's heard younger kids use worse words. But the word 'birthday' rang through his head. A birthday boy at a Freddy Fazbear establishment.
Why was it always a birthday?
"Hey, guys! I think the birthday boy wants to give Fredbear a big hug! Why don't we give him a little boost?"
Michael felt his chest constrict as his breathing steadily sped up, his hands coming up to grip his work shirt as he took a few wobbly steps back. Tears started forming in the corners of his eyes, his sight growing blurry.
Short messy brown hair. A dark striped shirt. Pale skin. A too-small body hanging limply from the mouth of a too-big animatronic.
But Gregory's hair was longer, curlier, and his shirt was blue, not black. His skin was tan and unsullied by crimson blood. And he was perfectly alive, standing right in front of Michael.
Or, he had been.
Because when Michael blinked away his tears, swearing he had only closed his eyes for a second, he opened them to find that he was looking at a cardboard cutout of Roxanne Wolf instead of a living, breathing child.
Michael flinched and started to panic silently, terrified that he had somehow already lost the kid that was supposed to be his responsibility before he realized something. He was sitting down. He definitely hadn't been sitting down a second ago. Nor had his torch been off. Then again, his torch had also been in his hand a second ago and now it was gone.
Before Michael could voice his confusion as he usually would, a small hand slapped over his mouth and prevented him from making a sound, "Shh!" Somebody hissed into his ear and he looked through his peripheral vision to see Gregory's face shrouded in shadows, "I saw the other guard's flashlight," Gregory whispered, "You didn't move so I doubt you even noticed."
Ah. Vanessa must've heard when Gregory kicked the metal shudders. And Michael had been too busy having a panic attack to notice.
It was overly silent between the two of them except for Gregory's ragged breathing and the muffled deep breathes Michael took under the kid's hand, "Y- You were having a panic attack," Gregory whispered eventually, breaking the silence, "I tried to get your attention but I don't think you heard me, so I had to drag you. You're... lighter than you should be as an adult, I think," He remarked shakily as though it was an afterthought.
Michael shut his eyes again, leaning his head back against the reception desk he had apparently been pulled under and gently batted the kid's hand off of his mouth. He lifted his hand to his face and rubbed the leftover tears from his closed eyes and was nearly surprised to find that there were a lot more than he had originally thought he had shed, "Jesus Christ," Michael muttered under his breath.
Michael felt ashamed. He had lost himself in front of a kid and had made said kid drag him away from danger when he was supposed to be the one protecting him. His whole job, official and unofficial, was to help and protect the children. And yet, here he was, being a coward.
Henry would be disappointed in him.
With that lovely thought, Michael scooted forward slightly and pushed the cardboard cutout of Roxanne Wolf off to the side, gently so that the flimsy material didn't fall over. He tentatively peeked over the surface of the reception desk and when he saw nothing, he stood up and gestured that it was safe for Gregory.
The kid seemed hesitant to emerge from what he had no doubt decided was a safe place, away from security cameras and Vanessa's sight, but he followed Michael's example nonetheless. Gregory slowly stood up, taking his own look over the desk surface, and nodded to himself when he also saw nothing past the shadows of the empty Pizzaplex.
"Okay," Michael started quietly and then cleared his throat, getting rid of the roughness in his voice from his tears, and then started again, "Okay, so, after some thought, I've remembered that there are other ways of getting out of here."
Gregory slowly turned his head to stare up at Michael with a deadpanned expression and squinted eyes, "If there are other ways of getting out of here," He said slowly, flatly, in a matching quiet voice, "Then why the hell were you freaking out earlier?"
It hit Michael that Gregory thought he had a panic attack over the doors being locked, likely because it was something that Gregory would've had a panic attack over if he hadn't made it all about himself.
"That," Michael floundered for a second, "That doesn't matter. What does matter is that I can get you out of here," He bent down briefly to pick his torch back up, "But we're going to have to go back to Freddy's room. Despite what customers may think, I don't know the layout of this place like the back of my hand."
Michael flicked his torch on and off just to make sure that it still had charge since he knew he hadn't charged it earlier when his shift started. He didn't usually need his torch so he really only charged it at the end of the shifts when his torch died. And this was the future, without batteries, the electric torches Fazbear Entertainment gave out had more juice nowadays than they did back in the earlier days of the Fazbear Entertainment security guard position.
But Michael hadn’t charged his torch in a while, a couple of shifts at least, so he knew that he’d have to charge it sometime soon. He hoped he’d be able to do it after he got Gregory out of here.
He heard Gregory grumble slightly at his side, “Fine,” He huffed petulantly, crossing his arms to complete the look of a reluctant child, “Let’s just go back before the other guard comes back.”
Michael turned his torch back on completely, “Don’t worry, kid,” He assured Gregory, stepping out from behind the reception desk. The kid followed after him, still at that cautious distance from before.
“Vanessa’s the floor guard, she's got a long way to go before she’s supposed to be back here. A few hours. You'll be outta here by then.”