Chapter Text
“Freddy, could you hold still please?”
“Apologies…”
“Don’t apologize, just stop fidgeting.”
Gloved hands reach out and grab a small set of wire-cutters from a metal tray before delving back into the open chest of Freddy Fazbear. The back of the warehouse is silent at this hour, the only sounds being the light hum of Freddy’s inner-workings, and the occasional tinkering of his mechanics. He looked different now. Not bad, though, not bad at all after 7 years. His coloring held true enough if you overlooked his right arm, which has evidently gone through plenty of replacements. Instead of the clean, smooth metal the rest of his shell consists of, his right forearm is plated in thick silver sheets of metal welded together. It doesn’t look terrible, and it serves its purpose, which was and is good enough. The man handling Freddy’s wiring leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand through his brown locks with a tired sigh.
“You should take a break, Gregory, you’ve been at this for a few hours now.” The aforementioned Gregory takes off his gloves and tosses them onto the metal tray holding a multitude of small tools. He stands and looks over his work, hands on his hips.
“Yeah, that’s enough for today.” With a nod, he leans over to push Freddy’s chest plates closed, patting him a few times to signal he’s done.
“Wonderful work today, Superstar!” This earns a grin from Gregory. He’s gone over and grabbed keys from a separate work table, heading over to the entrance and exit of the warehouse’s back.
“As always. I’m gonna close up shop now, it’s getting pretty late. You should charge up, too, so go do that.” Gregory nods at the make-shift charging station in the corner of the room before leaving to the main area of the store to lock it up. This leaves Freddy to stand from the table he’d been laid on and do just that, footsteps as heavy as ever heading over and hooking himself up to the station.
7 years it’s been, 7 years since the Mega Pizzaplex burned to the ground, taking with it the Freddy Fazbear franchise. Gregory was just 12 then, just a small boy who’d wound mixed up in the mess of it all. He had managed to pull away Freddy’s damaged body after he unmasked Vanny, hidden enough from those who came to investigate the smoke billowing from the building. It was the end, is what he believed. He hadn’t cared whether it was the truth or not, even now being 19 he doesn’t care. It was better that way. It took a while to power Freddy back up, it took tears, too. A lot of sleepless nights for months, trying again and again to revive his best friend. In that time, he learned how to hide, better than he could before. And now, years later, he’s an expert. The happiest moment in his life was getting Freddy to power on, finally hearing him again, alive.
Not that it was any easier with Freddy. Hiding a quiet animatronic was tough on it’s own, but a working, less-than-quiet animatronic that barely fits through general doorways? Now that, that was much harder. But he managed, they both did. Freddy of course wasn’t a huge fan of the idea of stealing at the time, even if it meant food in order to live, but that’s all it was, living. Surviving. Within 2 years, Gregory had salvaged and messed with whatever he could from the remains of the burned building. Turns out there’s been a lot left behind, singed beyond recognition. It made sense, gathering everything from a building as big as that wasn’t worth the effort, and Gregory definitely wasn’t complaining. He familiarized himself with the technology and mechanics, what made the animatronics tick and how to do it himself. So much so, that once he hit 15 he was able to work on Freddy without fear of messing anything up. So much so, that he could make use of it in the streets, promising his skills in turn for cash. Considering where he is now, it definitely worked.
Present day and the duo has themself an entire shop, big enough to work and live in all at once. Given they’re renting the building for use, but it’s better than nothing. The main and front part of the building acted as the shop where Gregory managed requests and repairs, while the back area acted as a private workshop, it’s main use being to work on Freddy. Just up a small narrow set of stairs in the back led to a small space for living. More or less a studio apartment on the smaller side, holding a bathroom and decent enough kitchen with a twin sized bed shoved into the corner. It’s not much, but it works, and that’s all that matters to Gregory.
Speaking of the devil, Gregory walks back into the back, tossing his keys to one of the few tables. Freddy’s eyes shift to follow his movements, as he removes his apron and hangs it up on the nearest wall-hook.
“Everything is locked up correctly?” Freddy speaks out, just checking in to make sure. This earns an eye roll from Greggory while he finishes cleaning up.
“Yes, Freddy, locked up nice and tight.” He speaks while wiping down the only table that isn’t covered in machinery and tools, his tone indicating some exasperation.
“Do not roll your eyes at me, you have said that in the past and we ended up getting broken into!” Freddy states matter-of-fact, only for Gregory to wave a hand at him dismissively.
“Yeah yeah I know I know, don’t need to remind me. Could you gimme the remote?” Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Gregory sets down the rag he’d been using and goes to sit in a chair stationed just next to Freddy’s charging station. Said charging station is less a “station” and more a power source connected via large wires to a device that fastens to the base of Freddy’s head in the back. There wasn’t much to salvage in terms of the traditional animatronic charging stations, so Gregory made some modifications to the bear in order to charge him properly and keep him running. Works like a charm.
“Gregory, I know you have more manners than that.” His tone is one of a scold, meant lightly, and his eyes come to a squint. Gregory leans back into the chair with a small sigh.
“May I please have the remote, Freddy Fazbear?” Hands pressed together at his chest, Gregory tilts his head and bats his eyelashes. Freddy doesn’t fully grasp that he was being sarcastic as his stomach plates open, revealing the once-hiding spot turned item-stash. Gregory reaches over and inside to pull out the remote to a TV mounted in the corner of the room on the wall. “Thanks.” He’s quick to switch on the TV, the chest plates closing.
“Of course!” Freddy gives the closest thing to a smile he can manage to Gregory, who in return grins, amused. The TV flashes on, and Gregory jumps at the volume, scrambling with the remote to turn the volume down. A sigh of contentment escapes him while he scrolls through the available channels, head resting on his free hand. It goes quiet. Not in the sense of actual sound, given the TV’s running and the light hum from Freddy’s mechanics. But between the two of them, it’s quiet. Not an unusual thing really, it’s familiar. After all that’s happened, how loud life used to be, the absence of any sound at all was welcomed. No heavy breathing, the stomping of animatronics on the hunt, the taunting of a woman hidden behind a mask, none of it. Just a guy and his robot living out the rest of their days in peace.
The comfortable silence persists for 30 minutes before Freddy speaks up, quietly, his voice box crackling ever so slightly.
“Gregory, do you think they’re out there?”
“What?” Gregory pauses in his idle channel-switching, brows furrowing as he glances over to meet Freddy’s gaze. “What’ch’ya mean?” Gregory knows very well what he means, but wishful thinking has him ask anyway.
“The others, do you think they are out there, like we are now?” Ever so slightly does Freddy turn his head to look at Gregory better.
Gregory shakes his head lightly with a sigh, “C’mon, I thought we agreed not to bring this kinda thing up for at least a few months…”
“I know, I’m sorry superstar but I- I am just… Worried.” Gregory sits forward in his chair, leaning against his elbows on his knees as Freddy voices his concerns.
“I-... I know, bud, but it’s been years. I’ve looked everywhere I can, we both have, you know what I think already…” Gregory’s voice comes out low and quiet, forlorn.
“But what if we searched again, in different places?”
“Freddy-”
“They have to be out there somewhere, I just know it, they can’t have-”
“ Freddy. ”
Gregory raises his voice just slightly, his tone coming out sturdy and forceful. It’s enough to keep Freddy from continuing. Slowly, he reaches a hand out to place it on Freddy’s shoulder. His mouth is thinned to a line, and the sound of the TV is hazed over by the sudden tension. “I’m sorry, Freddy.” It’s quiet again, after that. The bear stares straight ahead, his usually hard to read expression very clearly taking on a less than happy look.
“I really miss them…” Freddy confesses for over a millionth time, sorrow dripping from his voice box.
“I know, Freddy, I know…” And the silence persists once more. It’s sad, this time around. This certainly isn’t the first time Freddy’s asked about the other animatronics, in fact it was one of his biggest worries a few years back. It was all he could think about. He was powered up after the fire and the whereabouts of his dear friends never left his mind for a moment. Freddy knows he set that fire, he knows they were inside but he just can’t believe that they’re truly gone. “I’ll uh… Tomorrow morning, before the shop’s supposed to open, I’ll look over where I can again. But I can’t… Promise anything, Freddy, I’m sorry.” Deep down Freddy knew it wouldn’t matter, but it made him feel better anyway.
“...Thank you, superstar.” He reaches a hand up to place it on Gregory’s head, ruffling his hair a little bit. The grin Gregory flashes is strained.
“Now quit bein’ all sad alright?” Gregory pats Freddy’s shoulder before going and sitting back against his chair, the hand on his head falling back to the bot’s side. “Can’t have a sad Freddy Fazbear here, it just isn’t any good. How’ll he tell dad jokes if he’s all sad n’ shit?”
“Hah, you underestimate me, Gregory! And- Hey, language-!” Freddy laughs, his voice box crackling. It’s enough to get Gregory laughing with him, shaking his head lightly.
“C’mon I’m a big boy, I can swear if I want!”
“You are a young adult, Gregory.”
“Still an aduuuult~”
Freddy scoffs, rolling his own eyes. “Well, mister adult, I believe it is time for you to sleep.”
“Sounds like a plan! You’re still chagrin’ up, so go ahead and just power off there.” Gregory stands as he talks, brushing himself off. He looks older than he is these days, the bags under his eyes prominent, and his hands roughed up, scars littering them due to plenty of past mechanical accidents. His hair’s longer now, still spiky, and generally kept out of his face by either being tied back or held back by a headband. “I’ll set my alarm to wake up earlier, shower, and then head out to search. Want me to boot you up before I leave?” He unzips his work jumpsuit, a T-shirt and jeans underneath, shrugging it off to hang it up before crouching down and untying his boots. Freddy nods while he tosses said boots in a random direction. “Got it. Night then, Fazdad. Seeya in the morning.” With a lazy half-wave and a switch of the lights, Gregory’s off up the stairs.
“Goodnight, Gregory! Do not let the bedbugs bite!” Is the last thing Freddy calls out to the boy before getting comfortable, not that he really needs to, and slowly powering down. True silence falls over the shop now, not even the light hum of Freddy’s innerworkings being present. The safe-ish charging station he’s hooked up to emits light, but just barely, highlighting the floor and table next to it only slightly. It is peaceful at this hour, the usual hustle and bustle brought by rush hour having long since died. Calm, and quiet.
If only the same could be said about Gregory’s put-to-rest mind. Once he’d actually gone and laid down, his eyelids felt much heavier than just a few seconds ago. Hadn’t even gotten a chance to turn his lamp off before clocking out of the waking world. His covers lay strewn messily about the bed, not even covering him, and the headband in his hair remained. It was unnerving how still he was in his sleep, having even given Freddy quite a few scares in his younger years. That is, if he were lucky. You see, sleeping was more a gamble to him than a time of peace and quiet. And tonight, luck is not on his side.
The air is stale, as a hall stretches far beyond the sight of a young boy standing at the mouth of it. His breathing is harsh and quick, skin slick with sweat. “What?” In his hands is a flashlight, of which he’s clutching with shaking hands. A nightmare. So common they are, ever since everything that had happened at the old Pizzaplex. Gregory’s vision is clouded by red, and a stench similar to that of decay makes him gag. “Freddy?” Calling out, all that answers is his own echo, bouncing off of the hollow walls of the hallway. His bottom lip trembles, hesitating, before slowly taking a step forward. The step echoes just the same, and he does his best to swallow down the fear keeping him in place. There is no reason to continue forward, and he knows this, but he can’t help wanting to continue on. As if being beckoned. The absence of anything happening is all the motivation he needs, and so he takes another step, then another, beginning to walk down the red hall. The further he goes, and the more that silence persists, you would think his nerves to get calmer. Unfortunately, the dry, stale air and red hue is enough to keep him on guard.
It takes a solid minute for him to remember the flashlight he’s holding onto for dear life, a small sigh of relief leaving him. Guess he was too busy looking around to notice and use it. Well, it doesn't matter now. Taking a deep breath, he switches it on and- “...You’ve gotta be kidding me!” No dice. A few more flicks of the switch confirm that it’s battery’s dead, and gritting his teeth, Gregory takes to angrily throwing it to the ground. His fists are balled as he stares at the flashlight, hastily stepping over and past it. Tears prick his eyes, but they’re wiped away before they can spill. “Freddy? Freddy you there? Anyone…?” Nothing. Not that he expected anything more of course. The hallway continues on, end nowhere in sight. However, something is… Different, suddenly. Gregory stops dead in his tracks, tensing. It’s… The air, it feels- No, smells, different now. Almost like… “ Smoke. ”
Gregory’s breathing quickens as his eyes slowly trail upwards. The red making up the whole of this hallway, specifically just above him lingering on the ceiling, is smoke. Only a little, but that won’t be for long, as it slowly grows in size and density. Immediately he hunches down with a flinch, eyes wide with panic. This is the part in the nightmare where he starts running. It’s only been minutes, but his legs ache with the feeling of having been running for hours, days even. The hall shoves the sounds of his breathing and running back at him, ringing in his ears, and the smoke above begins to sink to his level. Looking around as much as he can, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, there is just nowhere the smoke could be pouring from. Yet there it is, pouring, threatening to suffocate Gregory then and there. His eyes sting, and his breaths become laborious, a chore to exhale, and even more so to inhale. One minute, he’s running, and the next, he’s falling. The red floor of the hallway rushes up to meet him, and his arms shake as they catch himself.
The smoke is low now, too low to stand, and too low to see anything past it. The smoke clouds around him, his throat closing, preventing the scream that he was about to let out. Hands reaching for his throat he claws, silently begging to breathe, to speak, as tears stream down his face. “Gregoryyyy~ I see you, Gregory. ” The voice is familiar, an unwelcome kind of familiar. But all he can do is lay there, and listen, waiting. “ I’ll always find you, Gregory! Always~” His little body trembles, vision beginning to fade as heat scorches his lungs. ‘Vanny,’ he wants to say. ‘Please, don’t hurt me.’
He can make no sound, smoke parting as vibrant, red eyes peer down at his helpless figure. The dry smoke burns his own eyes, painstakingly looking back half-lidded. Vision blurry, the shadow of a figure looms, the light of those red eyes disgustingly bright. “Ohhh, poor boy, you look so tired! Why don’t you rest a while? I’ll take really good care of that stupid bear for you. ” The figure leans down, the image blurry but distinguishable. Gregory’s hand twitches instead of moves like he tries willing it to, his eyelids feeling heavier by the second. The smell of smoke is overwhelming, his lungs failing him, and no amount of energy to move. As much as he tries to resist the shutting of his eyes, unconsciousness crashes into him in waves, succumbing to the dark of sleep.
“GREGORY! Superstar, wake up! Gregory please wake u-”
“DON’T HURT ME-!”
The sound of an alarm is blaring when Gregory shoots up in bed, ripping his shoulders from metal hands.
“Gregory, it’s ok! Look, look, it’s me, Freddy Fazbear! You’re ok!” Fazdad backs off a little and keeps his voice quieter, hands hovering a bit of a ways away from his more-or-less son. Gregory’s backed up against the wall and back of the bed, hugging himself with nails digging into his skin, as if letting go meant death.
“Fffffuhh… H-holy sh- I-” The look in his eyes is hazed over by fear, being evident enough to have Freddy sigh. Always making him worry, Gregory is.
“Don’t worry, superstar, you’re safe, no one here to hurt you. If there were, I’d give them the ol’ FazPunch™!” For emphasis, and to help lighten things, Freddy does a mock-flex. The breaths coming from Gregory slowly get lighter and lighter, a laugh mixed with a cry forcing itself out of him. He wipes his face with a sniff, doing his best to take a breath as Freddy opens his arms as an invitation. Wordlessly, he takes it, finding comfort against the cool feel of the metal contrasting the heat of his face. “It was just a nightmare, do not worry.” He carefully squeezes Gregory, petting his head lightly with his free hand.
“Jesus…” The shakiness in his voice is gone now, replaced with exhaustion. The air feels lighter, and fresher at that, so he takes a few seconds to take deep breaths, taking it all in. Safe, he’s safe now. “...They keep getting- Just- Worse, Freddy…” Another squeeze comes from the animatronic.
“I know, I know, Gregory…” Just another nightmare to add to the growing pile from over the years. No matter how much they occur, it will never get easier to experience and deal with. The alarm has ended by now on it’s own, phone showing off the time to be 8:31. His gaze catching it just barely, Gregory pulls away from Freddy, wiping his face of any tears. Now more aware of his real surroundings, his senses return to him, the familiar sound of Freddy’s mechanics and the TV downstairs.
“8:30… Er, how come you didn’t uh… Wake me sooner? My alarm was going off and everything.” It seems he wants nothing to do with the nightmare he’d just gone through, keeping the subject off of it as quickly as possible.
“Oh-” Freddy notices this, of course, but knows better than to pry. Gregory would talk about when he wanted to, and understands why he wouldn’t now. “-Well, I didn’t want to disturb you. I know sometimes you are rather prone to… Staying up late! So, I thought that perhaps I could let you sleep in a little longer, so that you’d get more rest. My apologies, Gregory.” He’s stood up straight now, hands clasped together at his chest while he watches Gregory stand from the bed and head for the laundry basket. In beginning to dig through it, Gregory waves a hand dismissively behind himself.
“It’s- sniff- It’s fine, Freddy. Don’t apologize, you oaf.” Was this basket the clean one? He tosses aside different shirts and pairs of pants, not caring too much if it had been clean laundry or not. Eventually he turns back around, shirt and shorts in hand. Freddy will have to lecture him later about that. “I’ll… Go out and do that searching, now, I think.” The headband previously holding his hair back is pulled off when Gregory pulls a T-shirt over his head, struggling for a second once it’s on to pull said headband out and toss it to the side.
“Oh… Are… Are you sure? You do not have to right now, Gregory, please, I advise you to rest instead.” Always making him worry, always.
“I need to take a walk anyway, I don’t mind it.” The boy tries to reassure him, only slightly having him convinced.
“Well alright… I will be downstairs. The news is on! If you would like to check it out.”
“Yeah sure, sure.” His replies are distant and dismissive, snatching a comb off of his nightstand and combing out his hair. With a robotic sigh, Freddy squeezes himself down the narrow staircase, leaving Gregory to himself. Himself, alone. The moment Freddy’s out of sight Gregory puts the comb down and and places his hands on the dresser, leaning into it, staring at himself in the mirror propped on top of it. He sees the boy from 7 years ago staring back at him. Gritting his teeth he pushes off of the dresser, looking away from his reflection with a head shake. The nightmares always feel so real to him, so similar to that specific day. The smoke, the heat, the red, all of it. Especially… Her. “Can’t see me now can you, stupid hag. Hah… What a fucking joke…” He speaks through gritted teeth, voice dripping with disdain.
This short moment of alone-time ends as quickly as it began, “G-Gregory, come down here please! You- You will want to see this!” If it wasn’t for the urgency in Freddy’s voice, even making his voice box crackle a bit, Gregory’d have rubbed his face down with a sigh. Instead, he runs a hand through his hair with one last deep breath, and heads over to quickly step down the stairs.
“What, what is it? Something up?” He looks about with a cocked brow, the only thing he can catch that’s any sort of strange being that Freddy is stood in the middle of the room, staring up at the TV screen. “Freddy? Y’there? Jesus, did your wires fry again? I just replaced th-” He stops, breath hitching at what’s on the screen of the TV.
“Fazbear Entertainment reveals their undercover project; An all new and improved Mega Pizzaplex starring Freddy and the Starsides! Incredible!” Gregory’s heart pounds in his chest. ”After the fire several years ago, many speculated that it was the end of Fazbear Entertainment, the whole building having been turned to ash! With the allegations on and against the previous property it is surprising to see them still standing, and re-building for that matter. They hope to open a-”
“That’s enough! I don’t- I don’t need to hear this! Fuck!” Gregory stammers a bit as he rushes around, hastily searching for the remote. When he spots it in Freddy’s hand, he rushes over and snatches it, which snaps Freddy out of his daze. It takes less than a second of the remote being in Gregory’s hand for the TV to be shut off.
“Maybe… We are both simultaneously dreaming of the same thing?”
…
…
…
…
“I could use the “ol’ FazPunch™” right about now.”