Two hours.

It took him two hours to finally sneak that thing out of the facility. To be honest, he had expected it to take a lot longer to pull this off, but of course, they would have gotten out much faster were it not for it kicking up so much fuss. You know, one would think that having an advanced AI would give it some common sense, but that idiot just couldn't get the fact that it could not afford to be seen through its thick head. He had to spew out so much bullshit about his father's machines before he could leave (with the pink slip. Him being fired had completely slipped from his memory).

He squinted against the rising sun. It was only slightly past six, so there was barely any activity on the street, but he couldn't help but worry about the fact that the thing was over seven fucking feet tall. Anyone with eyeballs could see it from a mile away!

He glanced up at its white mask, and its single eye stared back disdainfully. 'Well, only one way to deal with this problem.'

"Hey, you." The eye focused on his face. "Okay, I want you to listen to me for a second. I can't let anyone see you like this, so we have to go through the alleyway to get to my house. It's dark enough, and nobody hangs around that area, so I should be able to sneak you back without anyone noticing."

With no change in expression, it nodded once.

"Okay, good!" Micheal led it to a nearby alleyway further down the street that he knew would lead back to his home. He often took it on his way to the entrance of the underground facility, so he was confident that he could get it through with little difficulty. Well, as long as no one tried to mug him, but... Maybe it could take care of the problem for him.

He tried to pull it with him, but it stayed rooted in its place. "What are you doing?" he hissed over his shoulder. "Hurry up and move, before someone sees you!"

Despite his attempts to convey the urgency of the situation, the thing remained motionless. Its single eye glaring at him, it pointed at the dumpsters and muddy puddles with a sneer only someone with a mask could pull off. A complete 180 degrees turn from it earlier attitude, when it was practically bawling its eye out on the ground. Well, whatever. He didn't have the time to deal with its feelings. "Look, it's either you suck it up and get your feet dirty for a bit or get spotted and torn apart. Your choice," he said in his best "parent" voice. He chose not to mention the fact that both of them would get into trouble if that happened, not just the thing.

It stared at him silently, its mask devoid of any emotion. The only thing about it that could emote was its eye, and it looked about as dead as a fish's eye. Micheal knew that he was pushing his luck now, but... Well, that was all he could do right now, boss it around until it lost its patience and killed him.

Finally, and much to his relief, it gave in and gingerly stepped into the alleyway. He huffed out a breath that he didn't realise he was holding in, and their journey continued. He did his best to keep it quiet, but it soon proved harder than anticipated when it hissed and spat at every speck of dirt that dared to make contact with its feet. And don't get him started on his attempts to talk to it. Oh man, the look it gave him when he awkwardly asked about its well-being promised painful death if he had tried to carry on with the conversation.

That'll teach him to talk to a murderous clown robot.

So they continued on in silence. However, as the silence stretched on, so did one particular thought in his mind. Namely, the suspicion that it may be putting on this act just to get him to lower his guard. Then, once he did so, off goes his head! Some may think of him as paranoid at this point, but who can blame him? For four nights straight, it kept fucking around and trying to kill him, and finally went in for the kill on the fifth night, and now it just decided to be a little puppy and follow him around? Yeah, right.

So it was that thought that plagued him for the rest of the walk home, broken only by a hobo sleeping in a cardboard box. He was either drunk or hopped up on drugs. Whatever it was, he definitely had plenty of energy behind his vocal chords, and he had to practically pull the thing off its feet getting it away before anyone else could come along. Hopefully, anybody that came across that homeless dude will pass off his shouts as drugs-induced hallucinations.

Other than that minor distraction, their journey had been as smooth as silk, and they soon arrived at the doorstep of his apartment. As he fished out his keys, there was a low electrical hum above him. Micheal looked up at it with a raised eyebrow. "What's the matter? Were you expecting a five-star hotel room?" he asked snappily.

It gave him a half-lidded look. So that things developed standards overnight, huh? Well, too bad for it, because this was going to be its home until he kicked the bucket. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, revealing the dingy, but personally cosy, living room. "Come on, get in before someone sees you," he said shortly, hastily waving it in.

It took its own sweet time looking at its new surroundings. Despite the thing's general aloofness with him, it seems very interested in the carpeted floor, so different from the marek plates it was used to, and the ancient television set with a basket of...

"My butter! They actually gave me my butter!" For the first time, a hearty laugh bubbles in his throat and threatens to spill out. He couldn't believe it; of all the things that they could have gotten right, it was his "bonus of the week". The one speck of light in the vast darkness of a week, but whatever, he'll take it! He locked the door behind him and crossed over to the TV, plucking up the basket to examine the sticks of butter. It was supposed to be exotic, right? Did that mean that each stick came from different countries?

All of a sudden, he sensed a presence behind him and yelped in shock. "Whoa, hey!" he barked at the thing. "What the hell? Don't do that!"

It looked unruffled by his scolding. Instead, it extended a hand and pointed at the butter, making another hum at the back of its throat. "What? Are you asking about the butter?"

It nodded once.

"Um..." God, what had his life gone to? Explaining butter to a monstrous amalgamation of animatronics? That thing was looking at him expectantly, so he had to give some sort of answer. "It's...something you put in food to make it taste nicer. Like salt and stuff, but, uh, with a different taste."

There was no change behind its eye, even as Micheal slowly sidled around it to get to the kitchen. It just stayed at where it was, and he could feel its stare burning on his back. He did his best to ignore it.

'I have the pipe, it does not. I have the pipe, it does not. I have the pipe, it does not. I'm safe.'

He didn't believe that for a second.

Then, as he opened the fridge, a voice asked, "Why are you putting that butter in there?"

Micheal stilled. He... He recognised that voice. It was-!

"Baby?!" he gasped, whirling around. The thing stared back impassively. There was no outward change - no green eyes, no nothing - but the same voice started to issue down behind the mask.

"Please do not call me that. I am no longer Baby. I am..." Its eye seemed to glow behind the mask. "... Ennard. Call us Ennard."

He stuffed the basket into the fridge and slammed the door shut. "Ennard? Ennard... Ennard, it sounds like... Oh my god."

Ennard snickered soundlessly, confirming his suspicion.

That son of a bitch. Making jokes about his near death experience like it was a game to it... "I will fucking kill you," he growled. "You... You are an asshole. An asshole, you hear me?"

Its laughter petered out, and its single eye narrowed to slits. It didn't fully understand what "asshole" meant, but the human's aggressive tone told it plenty enough. "I would watch my tongue if I were you," it warned. "Or you might just find yourself ending up like those poor, unfortunate technicians." The last part came out as a low, dangerous purr that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand.

'Crap, I should have kept my mouth shut, I should have kept my fucking mouth shut.' He backed up nervously as Ennard rose from its slouched position, reminding him at the same time that he was up against a seven feet tall abomination with only a rusty pipe. "Whoa, hey! Stay there, or else you'll really regret hurting me!" he yelped, holding the pipe like a sword.

It stopped in its track, seemingly evaluating the validity of his threat. Then, it began to laugh. A creepy, mechanical laugh that sent chills down his spine. It would have been creepier if he was back at the underground facility, with the persisting darkness and rickety machines, but it still frightened him. "Or else what? You had to rely on doors and cameras to ward me off, and you have none of that right now," it pointed out smugly. "Oh wait, don't tell me. Are you going to use that piece of rust metal on me? Haha, how very amusing."

Crap. What it was saying was true, but... "W-well, even if you kill me now, there's nowhere you can go without getting caught!" His voice started to gain strength as he continued to ramble on. "The neighbours will notice and call the cops, then they'll drag you back to that place and take you apart. Not even you can stand yo to a dozen humans at once!"

His talking sped up into a frantic babble when Ennard took a step toward him. "B-but! I can help hide you! I swear, I won't tell anyone about you! I-I'll help fix you up and everything!"

It paused, tilting it head to the side. "Fix me up? And what is wrong with me, exactly?" it asked.

When Ennard showed no immediate signs of wanting to tear his throat out, Micheal cautiously stepped closer to it. "Well... No offence or anything, but you guys didn't exactly do a good job at putting yourselves together. I mean, you're basically a bunch of cables tied together now," he said, gesturing at its body. "I-if I tighten a bolt here and there, then you'll be able to get around easier."

He watched pensively as Ennard tilted its head from side to side. Was it thinking about his offer, or did it still want to kill him? Who knew what it considered logical or not? After all, this was the same idiot who thought wearing his skin was a good long-term plan. All he could do was hope that it was give him the benefit of the doubt, just this once.

After what felt like an eternity, Ennard gave an aggravated hum and turned its back on him, stomping to a corner near his coat hanger. It took him a few seconds to realise that it just parked itself at the corner like a pouty child, with crossed arms and all. It also took him nearly all of his willpower to giggle girlishly at the sight of it.

Instead, he cleared his throat and said, "W-well, if you're not going anywhere, then just stay there while I... freshen myself up."

It showed no sign of acknowledging his words. Whatever. As long as it didn't try to break down his front door, the it could stay in that corner for as long as it wanted.

He started to go about his normal routine, doing his best to ignore the latest addition to his living room. Jacket shrugged off and tossed onto the couch (stupid Ennard), he went into his bathroom in his bedroom and took off the rest of his clothes, stepping under the shower head. How water splashed down his back, undoing the knots in his shoulders as the week-long stress was washed away.

He sighed. "Fuck, what was I thinking? The moment I bring that thing home, it starts to talk about killing me. I must have hit my head in that stupid suit," he grumbled. He rubbed at the scrape and bruises on his arms, reminded of that thing slapping him around in the Funtime Auditorium before he managed to get into the Private Room. Even a light tap from it stung like hell! He probably spent the rest of his good luck on the bet that the keycard he had picked up could grant him access to that room.

He sighed again. "At least it's behaving itself now. Haven't heard a thing in a while." He started to reach for the soap bar when he heard a strange noise right next to him. "Eh?"

He turned around to find a baby blue eye staring right down at him.

~0~

pEnnard was starting to wish that they were back at the pizzeria.

There wasn't any controlled shocks or Scooper Rooms here, but that human was just as bad! Always yelling and pushing them around like they were some sort of...of...pet! Like a dog that the children sometimes brought to the pizzeria, he thought that they were so easy to push around? Well then, that dummy had another thing coming to him.

Ennard stepped away from the corner. Without the human holding their hand for everything, they were free to explore as they pleased, and as much as they didn't want to admit it, there were so many interesting things to see! The first thing on their list, however, was that "butter" he had put in the white box.

Taking care to keep their footsteps light, Ennard tiptoed into the kitchen and wrapped a cable around the handle, pulling the door open. A rush of cold air hit their torso, and they slammed the door shut with a surprised squeal. "Ugh, what was THAT?!" Funtime Freddy yelled in disgust.

"I think it's the fridge, Freddy! It's the same thing they use to keep the pizzas in," Bon-Bon explained.

"Oh, cool! But it's so much smaller..."

"I want to try the butter," Baby said aloud.

"Everybody, quiet!" Ballora ordered. "Did he hear that?"

All of the animatronics immediately went silent, and Ennard looked at the direction where that human had gone. There was no sign of him coming out, although there was a weird splashing sound coming from the other room. "No. That dummy probably couldn't hear anything even if we did it right next to him," Baby sneered.

"That's not true!" Freddy interjected. "He heard Ballora and Foxy plenty well!"

"Only with my instructions, he did."

"He didn't need your instructions to hear!"

"And if both of you keep arguing with one another like that, I will not be able to hear," Ballora admonished. "Now, can we do find that Eggs Benedict? I refuse to have this filth on me any longer than I have to."

looked down at their feet, which still had bits of garbage clinging to them and felt very unpleasant. "Eurgh."

Where WAS that Eggs? Carefully, they tiptoed out of the kitchen and into the unfamiliar room. It had a comfy-looking bed and a bedside table with many little trinkets on it. Ennard was already itching to poke around for a bit, but the door to their left attracted their attention. Or rather, the splashing noise that was coming from behind it. "Human?"

There was no response.

"Eggs? Hello?" Ennard passed, but they heard nothing again. "What in the name of pizza is he doing?"

They experimentally pushed the door, and surprisingly, it opened with no resistance. The sound of rushing water became clearer, and they could hear someone shuffling inside. Aha, they have him cornered now! There was no way that he could get out of this...

Pushing the door aside, they stepped into the new area and oh for the love of pizza why was everything so bright. Everything was too white and shiny, and it was hurting all of their eyes. A low hum rumbled at the back of their throat. "Where's that human...?"

They stumbled forward blindly, their hand grasping for anything that could help them see when they knocked something over, and it hit the ground with a dull "thunk".

"Eh?"

The sound drew their attention to the source of the rushing water, and they saw the human under a cascading waterfall of water. Their first thought was about the human's lack of clothing. 'So that's what he looks like under his clothes?' He looked...slimmer than his baggy clothing would suggest. And that thing between his legs...

The human's bright blue eyes met his, and they could see the myriad of expressions cross his face in a split second. Confusion, then shock, then his face drained of colour. His mouth was gaping open stupidly, and his eyes were as wide as when he had first caught sight of them.

Ennard was about to order Eggs to wash their feet when he began screaming.

~0~

Micheal was screaming for many reasons; first and foremost being the overwhelming embarrassment that threatens to knock him out cold. The only thing keeping him conscious was the fact that that thing was still staring brazenly at him, and his buck naked body would be on full display if he fainted and WHY WAS IT HERE?

His screaming eventually formed coherent words to hurl at the thing as he half-turned away from it, one hand over his crotch. "FUCKING HELL, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"

The thing flinched - actually flinched in fear - and took an uncertain step backward. "I... I wanted you to help clean us off-"

"NO! NO! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, AND DON'T COME BACK UNTIL I'M DONE HERE!" He couldn't remember another moment when he felt this embarrassed.

A rare glimpse of fear in his eye, the thing turned around and fled out of the bathroom. He stepped out briefly to close and lock the door before retreating back under the shower head.

Man, his heart was pounding out of his chest... If that thing doesn't do him in soon, a heart attack surely will. That fucking robot! Hadn't it heard of privacy before! And worse still, it seemed a little too interested in his body...

The hot shower suddenly wasn't so enjoyable anymore. Micheal twisted the knob to "cold", and he flinched as a sheet of icy cold water hit his back. Thankfully, the icy water was doing wonders to his burning face and racing heart, and he eventually managed to calm himself down.

To his right, Micheal could hear muted, mutinous muttering just outside the door, and the shuffling was telling him that the thing was lingering outside. Probably waiting for a chance to ambush him.

Motherfucker, who did it think it was to order him around in his own home? "I wanted you to clean us off", what a load of bullshit. Micheal Afton wasn't some see any to a murderous robot, and he will never be. But of course, to achieve that, he had to explain the fundamentals of privacy to that thing. Mainly, how it was not allowed to enter the bathroom when he was using it... No, scratch that. It wasn't allowed in the bathroom, period.

'Ugh, this is going to take time to get used,' he thought morosely.

...

... "Achoo!"