Alright first off: no hate comments please. Yes, my OC Violet is shipped with Vincent LET ME EXPLAIN. She does NOT KNOW he is the murderer. You'll find out when she discovers that later. SECOND: my friend, the one who owns Misty, originally shipped Violet and Vincent. For the sake of developing Violet, I have decided to keep that part of her life in this story and overall timeline. NO HATE PLEASE. Know what? Just keep reading. Don't like it? Then stop, but this helps her grow a lot so don't skip ok?

Screams. That's all Violet could hear as she traveled a dark hallway. This happened way too often. A normal fifteen year old doesn't have the same nightmares for ten years, but apparently she does. Trying her best to stay calm, Violet closed her eyes. Walk through and it'll end. That's all I have to do. But then she heard his voice.

"Ms. Violet? Is that you?" Oh God please no. I can't do this. "Please turn around." I don't want to. "Please?" Opening her wide eyes, her body shakily turned around. Tim was standing there, but not as a six year old. As how she'd come to picture him at her age. His voice was so pleading and his eyes held so much want. "Hey Violet. How are you?" Tim's voice was even deeper and more mature, like it would've been. His deep brown eyes were the same as his poofy hair was shorter and more controlled than crazy. Strangely, kindness, warmth, and caringness were all in his beautiful brown orbs.

Violet nodded her head slowly. Even in a dream, one word could set it all off like dynamite. "I'm doing good T-Gears. Gears." Too close. Rule one that she'd learned in her dreams: do not call Tim, "Tim". She did that once and that nightmare was one of the worst she'd ever had. "H-how have you been? Have you gotten taller?"

"I have indeed," he grinned. Please. Not this side. This side doesn't ever end well. "Well, at least this fake version of me has. The real me has yet to have his seventh birthday." Violet gulped and attempted to stop her shaking body. "Say, isn't his fifteenth birthday tomorrow? Strange how it happens to be the same day as your sixteenth birthday." The positive emotions in his eyes left, replacing his orbs with hatred and something Violet could never describe.

"Y-yeah, strange…" He was doing it. Why did her subconscious create him and actually let him grow like she did? This in and of itself created an inner demon that would haunt her until she died. "S-so, uh, what have you been doing?"

"Doing?" Venom practically dripped from that single word. "What have I been…doing?" Oh no, wrong word to say. Tim nodded his head. "I've been pretty busy being DEAD Violet, if that's what you're asking."

"I-I didn't mean-"

"Oh you know what you meant." Tim was seething angry and Violet regretted turning around to greet him. This was her fourth nightmare in this night alone. Tears brimmed her eyes when Tim took his shirt off to reveal three cuts. Two in his chest, one across his neck. A terrified cry was muffled by her sweatshirt sleeves when fresh blood began to drip from the long dead cuts. His eyes went black with red pupils, blood dripping from his sockets. A voice, no longer kind, emitted from him. "You are such a worthless girl, you know that? You let me die! I never got to grow up because of you. AND I NEVER WILL." A small knife appeared in Tim's hand and Violet began to cry.

"T-Tim please…"

"My name is NOT Tim. YOU should've died, not me. I had it worse than you, why did I have to die?!" Tim took a threatening step forward and Violet stepped back, making him grin. Sharp teeth formed in his mouth and black smoke formed around him. His skin began to rot away, turning black and flaking away to join the smokey background. "Well not here, Violet. Nothing can protect you here." Tim's face was right in front of Violet's suddenly, snarling angrily. "Nothing!" Turning, Violet did one thing: run. Her Vans pounded the ground and her black oversized hoodie failed to keep out the cold fear gripping her heart and mind. Tired and cold, her legs felt like they were about to turn to stone. Why did she choose to wear jean shorts of all things to bed? She turned into a hall until the world leaned and she was instead falling down the hall. When gravity threw her back against the ground a few times, her hair became clumped with blood and her necklace around her throat cut into her neck. Finally being thrown at the wall, Tim appeared in front of her. Bloody eyes and all stared at her as his strong hand gripped her throat and the other held the knife. Tim cackled evily. "Sweet daydreams, Ms. Violet." Tim cut the knife into her in every place possible. Blood seeped from her neck, eyes, hands, torso, thighs, calves, and her chest. A blood curdling scream ripped through the darkness from Violet, merely making Tim cut quicker and deeper while laughing his hearty laugh.

Screaming from Violet dragged her awake and she leaned over the side of her bed, vomiting into her metal trash can that had been in the same place for almost a decade. She coughed and threw her sweatshirt off, tears flowing. Her neck was bruised from her actual necklace being pulled against her skin, probably from her thrashing around in bed to get away from her dream. It was immediately torn from her neck and thrown against the wall. Sadly, her parents were away for the weekend and she was alone. No one was coming to comfort her this time. Besides, she didn't want it...she didn't deserve it. Glad that no neighbors lived near her house, she let out a real blood curdling scream, sobbing loudly. Words were spoken between her cries. "I should've died! I deserve it! I know I'm so SO SO SORRY! GEARS!" Violet fell to the ground, exhaustion pulling her to nothing until she leaned over again to vomit once more. With puffy eyes and weakness everywhere, Violet shakily stood up, muttering to herself. "I-I can't anymore...I can't...I have to…" The kitchen was just down the stairs. Opening a drawer, the depressed teen looked around until she pulled out the same knife she'd seen Tim be murdered with. The rest of the night was spent by Violet sitting against the cabinets, cradling the knife to her chest, questioning just how much her truly worthless life was worth.

A Year Later

At seventeen, Violet wished so hard that she'd rethought this idea. Maybe her mom was right. Her and Rachel. Both women had been trying to help her for ten years to get over Rachel's son's death. And now doing what she was about to do? It was the stupidest way to try and do that. But, she'd already called in and the woman who'd answered had said she could drop by the pizzeria for an interview the next morning. Praise the lord for online school because with no school left to go to, Violet could focus on working at Freddy Fazbear's. Not everyone's dream, but it was what she felt she had to do.

Opening the dirty door, Violet didn't hesitate to admit: this place was a wreck. It was still the original building and passing down the same hall, by the same door, to reach the security guard's office every night was going to be hell. The strangest man came to her at the sound of the opening door. His face was unshaven and his suit was blue with a silver name tag. Instead of actually wearing it though, he for some reason was wearing it wrapped around his waist, leaving his white tank top to be his shirt. His messy hair was a faded purple, as though he'd dyed it a few years ago and the dye never fully came out. His eyes weren't a natural blue, but he obviously was wearing contacts that portrayed that for who knows what reason. This guy is a mess.

"You must be the newbie," the man stuck his hand out and Violet accepted with a smile,

"And you must be kidding. I can't believe this place has gotten so wrecked."

He nodded. "Yeah, but I'm trying to fix it up. I'm Vincent by the way. My cousin, Misty, is in the back. She's the one you spoke to yesterday." Vincent nodded his head towards the back, wiping his hands with a dirty cloth. "Security room's thatta way. Follow me." Walking down the hallway she'd been down not too many years ago made Violet almost stop but she pushed forward, keeping vomit down and ignoring her blackening vision. Why must vomiting and fainting be so common now for her? This was horrible. "About ten years ago, there was an...incident concerning two kids."

"I know," Violet said quietly. "A-actually...I was one of them…"

Vincent stopped and slowly looked back at her. Concern and confusion in his eyes were blatant. "You were?" Violet nodded. "Why would you ever come back?" No answer was spoken and so Vincent left it at that.

"Well, nothing like that has happened again. All employees have been trained to keep kids in the main room and we do a thorough background check from now on. So you will have to take about an hour with Misty if that's alright." Vincent walked into an open room and Violet followed. The room had a window in the back that a small girl was closing. Long silver hair flowed down to her waist in a ponytail and covered the back of her blue overalls almost completely. Metal-rimmed glasses were perched on her nose and made her blue eyes slightly magnified. Misty, as Violet assumed that's who she was, gave a large smile and a wave.

"Ms. Violet I'm assuming?" Shivers went down her back but Violet nodded and shook Misty's hand.

"Just Violet, but yes. You must be Misty. We spoke yesterday I believe?" Misty nodded and grabbed a pencil and clipboard with a small stack of papers already on it. Both ladies sat on the old couch on the back wall under the wall as Vincent slipped out to presumably go back to fixing whatever he'd started. "I'm going to have to ask you some questions and some may be very personal but because of what happened years ago, it's necessary. Are you aware of what happened?"

Taking a deep breath and sighing, she nodded again. "I was actually the little girl who'd screamed…" Violet whispered almost to herself. "I was the one who watched my friend...he…" Shaking her head as though to clear that wretched memory, she looked up at Misty who was looking at her with sorrow.

"I'm so sorry you saw that, Violet. That's awful…" After a moment of silence, the interview officially began. "The first thing we need to know is your age. It's important because there is a chance that you could be injured and if you're a minor, you could sue the company and we don't want that."

"I'm seventeen."

"Oh, well," Misty looked through some papers. "I don't really know if we can let you have-"

Violet turned to Misty with determined eyes. "I wouldn't sue the company. I'm here because I deserve it. I should've been the one to die, not my friend. The least I can do is work here for life and try and prevent the asshole who murdered him from ever coming back." Misty looked almost taken back from Violet's sudden verocity but sighed and nodded.

"Alright Violet. You'll have to sign here," Violet leaned over Misty's shoulder as the small girl explained the contract to her.

Around an hour later, Misty and Violet had finally finished everything up. Violet's first shift started tonight with Vincent since Misty had exams for school tomorrow. The girl, to Violet's surprise, was in her second year of college at nineteen and was determined to get a degree for mechanical engineering. Working at Fazbear's helped since she got to fix and upgrade the robots when needed. Climbing out the window, Misty bid farewell and it was just Violet and Vincent.

"Here's your outfit for the job," Vincent handed Violet some folded clothes and a duffel bag. "This is erything you may need as well. Now hurry up and change. Robots wake up at midnight and they can get pretty nasty." Wake up? What the heck does that mean?

Coming back into the room at about 11:30, Violet immediately hated how the long shirt felt on her arms. So she copied Vincent without hesitation, letting her work shirt flow from her waist and giving her tanktop freedom to cover her. Vincent nodded approvingly. "You look real nice in that, actually. Say, you got a boyfriend?" What the heck?!
 "Uh, A: no, I don't. And B: I'm seventeen. You're probably like thirty-five or something."

"Actually, I'm only twenty-six."

"Whatever," Violet scoffed. "My point is, that's weird and I don't appreciate you saying that kind of stuff to me." Vincent came over to her and twirled her around to face him, holding her waist. Blushing, Violet struggled against Vincent but dang his hands were strong and she couldn't budge.

"Listen here, Violet." Vincent growled. "What I'm saying is a compliment. I'm telling you that you look rather hot in that and we're not even ten years apart. It isn't actually that strange. My dad was twelve years older than my mom and they met when she was only eighteen."

"Not exactly role models in my opinion," Violet muttered which made Vincent hold her closer and tighter. "L-let go of me." Fear was rising in her stomach and the entire situation was making her uncomfortable. "P-please."

"Has no guy ever held you like this before?" Vincent grinned and leaned towards her a tad. "That's mighty interesting. I don't see how any guy could resist a girl-no-a woman, like you. Mind telling me how you're single?"

Violet twisted in his grip and blushed harder. None of this was exactly what anyone would want to happen on their first night of work. Should she call someone? File for rape or sexual assault? No, too severe. But Misty was definitely hearing about her cousin's infuriating actions. "Seriously, asshole GET OFF." Vincent chuckled and held her face in one hand while still, somehow, holding her close with the other. Violet was fuming but it was almost stopped immediately when Vincent looked at her with cold hard eyes.

Vincent spoke softly and deeply enough to scare Violet half to death. "No one tells me what to do. No one." Violet didn't have enough time to gasp and writhe away because the man pulled her face to his and kissed her. Being seventeen and having never kissed anyone, all Violet could do was panic but Vincent kissed her hard and long before breaking away. Releasing her, he picked up a tablet like device and motioned her over as though the recent incident hadn't just happened. Why the heck should I trust him?! Working here was a horrible idea. Violet shook her head and Vincent sighed.

"Jeez Violet just get OVER HERE. I'm trying to show you how to do your job." The girl wiped her lips at him and spat back.

"Sure you aren't gonna force me to kiss you again?"

Vincent sighed and walked to her, ignoring her step back. "Here's the deal with the robots: somehow, they've found a way to go on this free-roaming mode. So they like to walk around at night. Only real problem? They don't seem to like the security guards. They try to get in a lot and we only have no much power because the company has been doing horrible since the incident." That was going to get real annoying, real fast, to hear Tim's death just be referred to as an 'incident'. "We as guards have to use the tablet to make sure we follow the robots whereabouts. We use these buttons to close the doors and turn on the lights." Vincent pushed two different buttons and Violet watched as a surprisingly sturdy metal door flew down, caging them inside. The other lit up the hallway and revealed a face that Violet wasn't ready for.

"Shit, Bonnie's already out." Vincent muttered. He turned the light off, closed the door, and looked at the tablet. "There's two tablets and we're both responsible for keeping each other alive."

"Wait-alive?"

Vincent nodded. "These robots are vicious. Some past guards have ended up severely hurt because of them and have passed away in the hospital." He glanced over at Violet as he handed her her tablet. "Misty gave you your login I believe. Anyway, if one of us fails and a robot gets in...well," he gave Violet a cold hard stare. "Let's just say you may end up joining your friend." She bristled and Vincent chuckled. "You're pretty ferocious you know that?"

"Shut up," Violet muttered. The couch, old red and beaten up, wasn't the comfiest but she could lay on it without feeling like she was going to end up sore in the morning. "You're a sarcastic and disrespectful jerk."

"Ooh, that stung darling." Vincent chuckled and held his heart. "Sharp words."

The rest of the night was fairly simple and a few times, Violet was lucky that Foxy had tripped or that Bonnie had fallen running to the door. Driving home in the morning, she flopped down in bed and managed to have a nightmare less sleep for the first time in ten years.

The next night was like before. As was the next few. After the third week, everything came as a habit to Violet and Vincent actually let her take her shift on alone a few times. But that fourth week proved to have a challenge she'd never expect to face.

Vincent came in and greeted her with a gruff hey as usual. Since he'd been Mr. Gropey, Violet hadn't let him within two feet of her and it made her laugh that he was getting annoyed by it. Misty's two sense must've really annoyed him as well.

Around the middle of her shift at three in the morning, she heard the window behind her open. The desktop computer had been easy for her to fix and having four screens to help monitor made her job not seem like a death sentence. Vincent climbed in, grinning slyly. Violet scoffed and tried her best to ignore him as he walked over to her.

"Well well well you got the busted 'ol desktop to work. Fine job you've done, Violet." The older man set his hand on the teenager's shoulder and she growled quietly. If she had to spend one more minute around this wise-guy, she just might go crazy and join the robots on stage singing for toddlers all day. Wait-no. That's torture.

"Thanks, Vince. I thought this would be rather useful considering these tablets are so freaking small. Why do you even use these? Does the company get any upgrades?" Annoyance was coating her tongue and she knew Vincent was aware. But this guy-oh, he took slyness to a whole new level.

"Oh so you have a pet name for me now, do you? Vince. Hmm…" Vincent moved his hand down to her waist and whispered in her ear, blush dusting her face. "You know, I rather like it, honey."

"Honey?!" Violet stood up and pushed Vincent aside immediately. Heading out the door and into the hallway, Vincent hurried towards her. "I am NOT your girlfriend, NOT your HONEY, just-UGH!" She whirled around to face the coworker. "Treat me with respect. I am NOT your-your-your anything!"

"Violet, get in the office. Now." Vincent had cold eyes laced with-wait. Fear? "Please, now. It's not safe."

"No, Vincent. I'm not going anywhere with-" A hard thunk was felt against her back as she was hurled to the ground. Silence was deafening as metal footsteps could be heard behind them. Turning over silently, Violet went quiet with shock. The brown bear everyone loved so much in the day was standing over her, glaring at her with blue orbs. Fear coursed through her veins and every muscle tightened.

"VIOLET BACK TO THE OFFICE! NOW!" Vincent's desperate cry and sudden attempt to grab her away failed when a heavy paw threw him back down the hall. Picking Violet up, something in her snapped. This hellhole had brought too much pain and suffering. It had taken her friend and it wasn't about to take her. Grabbing its hand with her own, Violet bared sharp teeth and spat Satan at the mechanical being

"Listen here you no good bucket of oil loving scumbag. You and this place have taken something too dear to me. You are not about to take me. You are going to put me down or so help me you will feel the wrath of Satan and God together coming from me as I rip your limbs and wires off one by one." She was seething mad and couldn't take any of this burden any more. Who knew threatening a bear would help, right? "Don't you ever, EVER, touch me again. Do I make myself clear?" The robot tilted its head as though considering what it is she said. Finally, it put her down and walked away. Violet crumpled down to the floor on weak knees as Vincent caught her before her vision, as for freaking usual, blacked out for God knows what time.

The next morning was something no one would ever want to even kind of imagine. Opening her eyes, Violet drew her hair away from her face to see the doors open and sunlight pouring in. She was laying on the couch and the monitors for the desktop were off. And suddenly as if a presence was near, she could almost feel something behind her. No, not almost feel. There was something behind her, and seeing it nearly made her scream. Vincent was laying behind her fast asleep, one arm under her neck and the other draped over her waist, holding her close. Her coworker had brought her into the room, laid her down, finished the shift, then slept next to her.

Talk about seriously creepy. And awkward. How was she supposed to get up from his grip? Violet wasn't given time to try and figure that out because said coworker was arousing. His arm tightened and then pulled away, letting Violet ungracefully fall on her face on the ground with a large thud. Scrambling up, she met Vincent's smirking eyes as he lifted her chin up.

"Good morning Vi. Sleep well?"

"Shut up."

"Oh c'mon admit it. Sleeping with me wasn't that bad."

"PLEASE, NEVER say that AGAIN." Violet grabbed her duffel bag and car keys, preparing to leave for home. Following the same path she did earlier that morning, Vincent's footsteps sounded like a repeat as well. Slamming the door open, Violet was still attempting to erase blush when a strong hand grabbed her elbow. Her things were already in her car and the door was open but he just would not leave her alone! "What?! What do you wa-"

He kissed her again and she nearly gagged. This was so ridiculous. When he finally stopped and Violet could drill hatred into him with looks, Vincent was smiling. But to her surprise, it wasn't sly or flirty.

It was shy and actually almost desperate.

"Violet, listen. I know you may not like me or what I've done. But I do really really like you." Vincent let go of her arm, and rubbed the back of his head. "Would you at least consider going on a date?" For the first time since Violet had met him, she saw true sincerity in him and his words. Violet for so many years had refused dates because they always ended badly. Who wanted to date a suicidal, depressed girl who was haunted by the death of a childhood friend? Answer: nobody. But Vincent was willing. And maybe opening up her heart again wouldn't end up horribly as it usually did. So, taking a deep breath, she smiled and nodded.

"Alright. One date that's it."

One. Because that was realistic.