Disclaimer: I do not own "Five Nights at Freddy's" or its characters.

[A/N - Long time since this one has been updated...

Anyway, this chapter has just some info on Phil Grayson's (Phone Guy) kids, Marshall and Daniel. At the time of the main plotline ("The Night Shift" and sequels) Marshall is 15 and Daniel is 8.]

It was a busy day at the hospital at usual.

There were injured people waiting as patiently as they could to be seen by doctors, others who looked quite ill, and some just rushed past the doctors to see someone they knew that had gotten into some kind of weird accident. It was a loud and movement-filled day.

Amidst the chaos, a young brown-haired woman entered the hospital calmly, holding a seven year old boy by the hand. The little boy had a large brown teddy bear in his hands, one wearing a top hat and a bowtie. They walked past the injured and the ill, paying them no mind, as they headed towards the maternity hall.

The ambience was much different there. There was nothing but peace and quietude, only interrupted by a distant cry of a newborn child. The young boy perked up.

"Is that my brother, Aunt Tricia?" he asked, eagerly.

"Your dad hasn't said anything yet, Marshall, I don't think so. Just be patient," Patricia said.

Marshall huffed. He was tired of waiting! He wanted to see his baby brother now. He had already waited for nine months; that was more than enough for him. How long did it take for a baby to be born anyway?

The boy had spent nine months reading every book about babies he could find avidly. He wanted to be ready to receive his little brother and be the best big brother he could be. Unfortunately for him, all the books seemed to be directed towards the mother-to-be, and not brother-to-be, and so the information he found was not always that useful. After all, he didn't need to know how to breast-feed his brother…

He looked at the teddy bear he had in his hands, making its head tilt lightly. "Why did we get a Freddy toy?" he wondered. "I told you I wanted Foxy…"

Patricia sighed patiently. "And I already told you they were sold-out on Foxy," she reminded. "Don't you think your brother could be scared of him, all with the hook and the missing eye…?"

Marshall scoffed. "Foxy's not scary! And if my brother is scared of something, I'll be there to protect him," he stated, confidently.

His aunt smiled, ruffling his hair. "You are going to be a great big brother, Marshall Grayson. Just like your dad."

"Pfeh, tell me something I don't know…"

Patricia chuckled, ruffling her nephew's hair more vigorously, ignoring the young boy's protests.

Half an hour later, Patricia got a call from her brother, Phil. The baby had arrived.

"… I hate the rain…"

Marshall stared at the window of his room, bored beyond belief, watching the rain and occasional lightning. The weather outside was atrocious – a fancy word he had learned from his dad that meant "it sucks" – and he had nothing to do. There was nothing interesting on TV, he had already memorizes the comic books he owned and he didn't feel like playing video games. What was there to do…?

A loud thunder made the glass of the window shake. Marshall stared at it, still bored and not feeling startled at all, but a shriek from a nearby room made it clear that someone else found it frightening.

It had been three years since that day when Marshall had gone to the hospital to see his baby brother. He had demanded to be the first one to hold baby Daniel, though his father stood behind him to make sure he didn't drop him.

At first, all his brother did was sleep, cry, poop and eat. Marshall avoided taking part in the whole "diaper changing" scene, naturally, but he would be most eager to help with feeding him or getting him to sleep. He was no singer, but he made a tremendous effort to memorize some silly songs from a baby-oriented TV show just so he would sing them to Daniel.

As Daniel grew, and learned to walk, Marshall took responsibility for holding his hand whenever the family of four went out, and always helped him up whenever he fell. Daniel was a bit of a crybaby when it came to injuries. He always cried whenever he fell. But Marshall didn't mind it. It was his job to comfort his brother when he cried. And today was no different.

Marshall headed towards the room the siblings shared, and peeked inside. He couldn't see Daniel anywhere, which only meant one thing – he was hiding under the bed.

"Dan?" he called. He heard whimpers coming from underneath the bed, which confirmed his assumptions. "Daniel, why are you hiding there?"

There was a small sob. "T-there… monsters… o-outside…"

Another thunder was heard, and Daniel yelped again, resuming his sobbing afterwards.

Marshall bent over and pulled the covers of the bed away so he could look underneath. His little brother was cowering in the furthest corner, sobbing in fear.

"Those are no monsters, Daniel," Marshall assured. "That's just the sound of thunder, it won't hurt you."

Daniel whimpered. "R… really?"

Marshall smiled. "Did I ever lie to you, Dan? C'mon, get over here." He gestured for Daniel to approach him, showing his little brother a hand for him to take.

The youngest of the boys hesitated for a bit, but then took his older sibling's hand and allowed Marshall to lead him out from under the bed. Then, he kneeled on the floor, whipping the tears away.

Marshall put an arm around his brother's shoulders. "See? No monsters here, just like I told you. And if there are any monsters, your big brother will kick their butt!"

Daniel managed to make a small grin. "Promise?"

His brother nodded. "Promise. That's what big brothers are for, right?"

Daniel nodded as well, not looking as scared anymore. "Ryan's big brother is mean though…"

Marshall's smile disappeared. "Did he do something to you?" he asked.

"No, but… I saw him yesterday… teasing Ryan…" Daniel explained. "He was scaring him with a Foxy mask…"

Marshall grumbled. Not again…

Even though he was only ten years old, Marshall was quite "infamous" in his school. People knew that he was not one to back down from a fight, and they were also vaguely aware that his father had been in the army. Logically, Marshall would often exaggerate in the stories he told about his dad (often including him single-handedly wiping out enemy forces of about 40 soldiers), which made some of the younger kids look up to Phil Grayson with some sort of odd mixture of both fear and admiration. It was also common for Marshall to get involved in fights that had nothing to do with him, if it revolved around some younger kid getting picked on for no reason.

One of those kids he usually stood up for was Ryan Martins. He was a local boy, lived near the pizzeria Marshall's dad worked in, but he hated it there. Marshall didn't fully understand why Ryan hated the pizzeria – after all, most if not all other kids loved the place, and the robots – but he didn't pester the kid about it. He was two years younger than Marshall, and it was uncommon for a day to go by without him crying. Usually, it was his older brother's doing.

Erik Martins was sixteen years old, and, from what Marshall knew, he sometimes helped Freddy Fazbear's Pizza's employees with spreading the news about the pizzeria by handing out pamphlets or even helping the entertainers by wearing masks and watching over the kids for some money. At home and at school though, he was no model teenager. It was no secret that he spent most of his time teasing his little brother. If it was normal sibling rivalry, it wouldn't be a big deal, but he almost always went too far with his teasing, and Ryan would almost always break down into tears.

"Why is he always picking on Ryan?" Daniel asked timidly.

Marshall sighed. "Because he's a big jerk, that's why," he declared. "He's not doing his job right. Big brothers take care of their little siblings, they're not supposed to be mean to them or scare them."

"He should get fired!" Daniel protested, innocently.

Marshall laughed. "That's right, he should! He shouldn't work on the 'Big Brother Department' anymore!"

Both siblings laughed at the "Big Brother Department" joke for a while, forgetting about the scary thunderstorm going on outside. Daniel looked up at his older sibling with pride. He had a great big brother – strong and brave. If only he was more like him…

Patricia looked at Marshall with one of her eyebrows raised. "Why exactly did you want me to fix this?" she inquired.

"Is it fixed or not?" Marshall asked, ignoring her question. "It looks fixed to me – can I have it back?"

His aunt sighed and handed the golden teddy bear back to him. "Seriously, Marshall, where did you get this teddy bear? I don't remember this being amongst Daniel's toys…"

Marshall took the teddy bear in his hands and looked at it carefully. "That's because it's not. Thanks, Aunt Tricia." And he left before Patricia could question him any further about it.

It had only been a week since he had comforted his younger brother about the thunders. Now he was on his way to comfort someone else.

He walked out of his house and headed towards a kid that was crying on the sidewalk. The ten year old stopped in front of the kid, with the golden teddy bear in hand.

"Here you go. My aunt fixed Golden Freddy for you," he announced.

The crying kid looked up. He had a shirt stripped in black and white and brown messy hair. The boy managed to make a small smile. "T-thanks…" He took the teddy bear and held it against his chest. "You fixed my friend…"

Marshall frowned. "It wasn't me, but you're welcome." He sat next to him. "Ryan, why do you carry that teddy bear around? You know that your brother is always teasing you for it."

Ryan looked at his toy lovingly. "She's my friend. I can't leave her behind…"

"Golden Freddy is a he," Marshall reminded.

"R-right," Ryan stuttered, scratching his cheek. "Yeah, he is…"

Marshall sniffed. Ryan was a weird kid. "Look, if you're scared I can walk you home. Your friend won't help much if your brother and his friends show up to bother you again."

"She does her best… I-I mean 'he'," Ryan said. "But it's fine, you don't have to… b-bother with me…"

"It's not a bother," Marshall stated. "I don't have anything else to do. Lily refused to be my girlfriend again so…"

Ryan snickered. "Lily is that pretty red-haired girl from your class, right?"

Marshall smirked. "Yep. Most gorgeous girl in school," he affirmed, suddenly looking at Ryan with a glare. "She's mine though, so don't get any ideas."

"I-I would never…!"

"Joking." Marshall yawned. "Well, let's get you home. Dad's making my favorite meal for dinner today so I gotta get home early."

Ryan nodded and stood up after Marshall, smiling meekly. "Thanks Marshall… I wish my big brother was cool like you…"

Marshall looked at him, frowning again. "I'll never understand why Erik is such a jerk to you," he confessed. "But don't let it get to you, Ryan. He'll learn a lesson one of these days."

"Yeah… My friend says that too," Ryan confessed, once again holding his Golden Freddy teddy bear close to his heart, as if it was the one thing in his life he loved and cherished. "She always tells me to have hope that it will get better… She always tells me… Tomorrow is another day.."

Marshall patted Ryan's shoulder comfortingly. "Your friend's right," he said, though he was assuming that this "friend" Ryan talked about was an imaginary friend of some sort. "Tell me more about this friend of yours, she seems nice. Is she pretty?"

Ryan eyed him with suspicion, but Marshall shrugged. What could he say, he appreciated a girl's looks. His father often told him he was too young to already be chasing after girls, but hey, they were the ones chasing after him usually. Well, sometimes. Not his fault that he was already a handsome devil at the mere age of ten…

"She's beautiful," Ryan said, blushing a little. "She's your age, I think. Black hair, amber eyes. She's always smiling."

Marshall's smile turned into a teasing smirk. "Sounds to me like someone has a crush."

Ryan's face went red. "N-no! I d-don't have a crush… Honest!" he shrieked as Marshall's smirk got wider.

"Suuuuure," the ten year old sneered. "I'll act like I believe you. What's future Mrs. Martins' name then?"

"Rika," Ryan replied, pouting as he tried to cover his potato-red face with his teddy bear "Her name is Rika."