AN: Sorry for the delay - life got in the way and then I had a serious case of writer's block about how to move the storyline forward. What I had written was basically a lot of stuff about their daily life. And sure, I could tell a story about their daily life, but we'll be here all year if I write the story that way. This got trimmed to hell and back again, and then re-written on top of that.

Also, this chapter still feels rushed to me, and it will be a bit rushed I think until chapter six or so. I needed to move the storyline forward quite a bit, so that's why things got sped up. There was a lot of minor interactions between characters that were removed.

Anyway, I apparently will have plenty of time to write as I'm... not being scheduled at work at the moment :( funny how my job thinks it's fine and dandy to just not schedule me for two freaking weeks.

Anyway - enjoy!

Chapter Four

Michael wasn't dead.

Vincent repeated that over and over inside his head as he waited for the police to arrive and speak with not only him, but the group of kids who had caused the accident to happen in the first place. His brain felt fuzzy, full of nothing and yet buzzing with the screams that had altered him that something inside Fredbear's pizzeria was very, very wrong.

The Marionette was broken and he'd gone to fix it – Henry was busy, and Sarah was in the back making more pizzas for the birthday party taking place that day. It was an impromptu party for Michael's upcoming birthday, Vincent had thought it would be a good idea for Michael to get out of the house and spend some time with kids his own age.

He knew Michael was having a hard time at school, and his nights at home weren't helping either. Michael woke most nights screaming about monsters coming to get him, or so that's what their father told Vincent when he came home from his night shifts. They were trying different cocktails of medicine to try and help him through the nightmares and delusions, but nothing seemed to help him – Vincent had thought he was doing the right thing when he invited kids from Michael's school to Fredbear's for the party.

Michael had begged not to go. His Fredbear plush told him something awful was going to happen if he went – Vincent really hated that damn plush toy once Michael started saying it was talking to him. The strangest part was that their father seemed almost amused by Michael's claims of the bear talking, and would lift the bear out of Michael's arms and jokingly talk as if he were the bear. Michael always got a funny look on his face when that happened, and seemed almost happy.

"Fredbear sounds like dad." Michael once told him, "Just less static when daddy talks."

Static…

Vincent could never manage to get his hands on the bear to confirm his theory or not. He eventually forgot about it as the days passed and Michael started sleeping less and less. A new toy appeared amongst the pile of toys Michael already owned, and Vincent knew they were prototype toys for the animatronics his father had been working on in the workshop – half finished creatures that Vincent thought wouldn't look out of place during Halloween – but animatronics always seemed frightening when they were still in the process of being built.

It wasn't until the tiny gold spring Bonnie appeared in Michael's collection did Vincent recall the night two years ago when Charlie had gone missing. The police then had been unable to find any sign of the girl, beyond the bloodied party dress and knife they'd found in the party room where Vincent, Scott and Henry had been speaking.

They had checked the entire diner over – but Charlie's body was never recovered and the theory was that the murderer had killed her and then taken the body with him for some unknown reason.

"Vincent?"

Vincent lifted his head. Henry was standing there, ringing his hands nervously. "Officer Grace needs to ask you a few questions."

"O-Okay."

"Hey, Vincent." Officer Grace turned out to be a young woman with light brown hair and a rather charming sort of smile. "I know you probably want to get to the hospital to check up on your little brother, but I just need to ask what you saw."

"I… I was in the Prize Corner." Vincent's voice cracked. "It was Michael's birthday so I wasn't supposed to be working, but Scott… Scott's awful with the Marionette, it doesn't like him very much. It broke so I went to fix it… the spring on the box gets stuck and just needs to be loosened back up so it can jump scare the kids with their prizes after they put the tickets in." he was rambling, he knew he was rambling. "I left Michael in here with the other kids… I wasn't gone very long. I heard Michael crying, but he cries a lot so I didn't think anything was wrong until I heard people screaming."

Officer Grace was writing quickly on her notepad. "So you came running in here to see what was wrong?"

Vincent nodded, his throat tight. "Michael was… He was hanging from Fredbear's mouth. There was blood everywhere." He closed his eyes, but opened them when the horrible image of his brother's body, soaked in blood, hanging from the bear's mouth, flashed in front of his eyes. "There's a release switch on its jaw. I hit it and I caught him before he hit the floor. His…"

"I know." Officer Grace reached out and touched him gently. "Vincent, your dad is on his way now to come pick you up. Henry's going to sit with you while you wait, okay? I don't want you leaving on your own."

"He won't." Henry promised her. "Is it okay if I take him into the back to get him some new clothes?"

"Yeah, that's fine." Officer Grace was already heading over to a group of parents, holding tightly to their frightened children.

"Come on." Henry took Vincent by the hand and led him out of the main area, into the back service room. "Your dad was at the Circus, so it shouldn't take him more than a couple minutes to get here." He explained as he grabbed a spare uniform shirt off the shelf. "Wash up over there." He pointed to a hose in the corner.

Vincent followed his orders, his brain numb to everything around him. When he was clean, he pulled the new shirt on and went to sit in the employee breakroom. He put his head down on his arms and closed his eyes, feeling tears beginning to fall there.

This was his fault – he had brought Michael here thinking it would be good for his little brother to socialize – to stop being such a baby all the time. Maybe if he had friends he would finally snap out of whatever metal issues he was having.

Vincent didn't want Michael to be like their father.

For all of his social grace and charms, William Afton was broken and Vincent knew it. He saw it often now that he worked at Fredbear's. There were times when William came to talk with Henry, and the possessive, crazed look in his father's eyes when he was with Henry was frightening. Henry, for his part, seemed almost used to that behavior, and would correct it if it got out of hand.

When he wasn't here, William was at the Circus, designing robots – Vincent couldn't remember the last time their father was home to care for Michael – and often he left Michael alone in the house at night, despite the little boy's fears about monsters in the dark.

Worst was the horrible thought Vincent had had not long after he started working the nightshift and saw the problems with the free roaming mode the robots entered at night. What if the monsters in the dark weren't all inside Michael's head?

It seemed crazy, but Vincent had begun to notice things weren't the way they were supposed to be at home. He noticed the cameras first, located in the hallway and inside Michael's bedroom. They were small cameras, not the sort to draw attention, but they were the same make as the ones used inside Fredbear's.

They were made by Afton Robotics.

Vincent thought the first time he noticed them that maybe it was so his father could keep an eye on Michael while he worked at the Circus – it was only a mile or two away from their house after all – so maybe the cameras made William feel safe about leaving Michael home alone to sleep.

On one of his brief trips to the Circus to drop some paperwork off to his father, Vincent had overheard some techs talking about the amount of power used by Fredbear's – and the issues the animatronics there were having because of their interactions with kids. The repair team that was sent to fix Fredbear and Bonnie every two weeks complained that the robots needed nightly repairs the way the Circus animatronics were worked on – every two weeks meant damage was being allowed to get worse.

This meant that William was keeping tabs on all locations where he had animatronics -again that nagging voice tried to tell Vincent that not all was right in the world – that maybe, just maybe there was something going on that he should talk to his father about.

"Vince?" A soft touch on his shoulder drew him out of his thoughts. Sarah was pale, but smiling as she brushed his dark hair back from his face. "Your dad's here. He's waiting in the hallway with Henry."

Vincent nodded and pushed his chair back.

"Don't blame him for this, Will." Henry was saying as Vincent stepped into the hallway. "He had no way of knowing those little bastards were going to pull something like this."

Vincent froze – his dad… blamed him?

"I don't." William started to say and then turned, his gaze resting on Vincent. He cocked his head to the side before holding out his hand to his eldest son.

Vincent wordlessly crossed the space between them and hugged his dad tightly, burying his face against his shoulder as the tears he had tried to fight finally spilled out. "I'm sorry." He sobbed, "I'm so sorry. I should never have brought him here – it's all my fault."

"It's not." William soothed as he wrapped his arms tighter around Vincent. "Vince, it's not your fault. The ones to blame are those little bastards who thought shoving Michael's head into an animatronic bear's mouth was a great fucking idea." His grip tightened for a moment before loosening. "Let's just get to the hospital, okay?"

Vincent sniffed and nodded.

Henry suddenly reached out and caught hold of William's arm, his gaze worried. "Will, promise me something?"

"What?"

"Don't do anything you're going to regret later?"

William smiled, "I won't." his arm still around Vincent, they walked out the back door. Henry watched them leave, his heart aching inside his chest.

"What did you mean by that?" Sarah asked.

"The better question is what did he mean by his answer."

The at home care took over caring for Michael once William decided to return to work. Vincent stayed home during the day, ensuring that his little brother had everything he could possibly need – and went back to working at Fredbear's during the night. The house seemed suddenly very strange with just the two of them living together – because Michael was little more than a ghost now – a tiny little boy hooked up to machines that let the world know he was still alive.

Vincent checked on him as he was getting ready to leave for work. The machine beeped softly with each beat of Michael's heart. He approached the bed and sat gingerly on the edge of it, using his fingertips to brush some of the long brown hair out of his face. "Hey," he said softly. "I gotta go to work now, Mike. I'll be gone for just a little while, but Dad said he's coming home tonight so he'll probably stop by to talk to you." He glanced at the Fredbear plush. "Not that he doesn't already do that."

He knew now that the plush toy was actually a small robot – designed to mimic voices it heard. The toy was actually Henry's idea, but he had no idea how it had gotten from the Circus prototype department and into the hands of William's son.

William played innocent on the whole thing – seemingly just as surprised to discover it.

The bear had been mimicking their dad's voice was months – just tiny phrases trapped within the AI and repeated back at various times.

The animatronics in the home office were moved to the circus – it was the first time in years that Vincent had seen them, and he realized that they looked exactly like the drawings on Michael's wall. He could have killed his father when he made the connection. What sort of father enjoyed scaring his child so bad? Did he get some sort of sick thrill out of it? Or was there something else going on.

Vincent gave up trying to get answers out of his dad. William was hardly home when Vincent was, and when he was, there was simply an awkward silence that stretched between the two of them. Vincent tried to tell himself that it was just the stress of Michael's condition that was causing it – but he knew there were other things going on now that he tried his best not to think about.

There were more cameras in the house now – including ones in his bedroom. He had complained about it, but the only response he got from his father was a suggestion that if he was uncomfortable he could leave.

It had shocked Vincent to the core. He wasn't legally allowed to leave, but with each passing day the offer became more tempting.

He mused over everything as he sat there. "I gotta go… I love you, okay?" he bent down and kissed the top of Michael's head. "I'm sorry for being such a shit brother to you, Mike… I hope one day you'll forgive me."

He headed towards the bedroom door, pausing when he heard a strange noise beside the closet. He started at it for a long moment before walking over to it and opening the door. There was a horrible moment when Vincent wondered if he'd lost his goddamn mind – because there was no explaining the creature sitting there staring at him.

It looked like… it looked like a fox… it's hand was a hook, and razor sharp teeth gleamed inside its mouth.

The hook slashed out even as Vincent slammed the closet door shut. He gasped as it sliced his cleanly across the chest – backing away as his shirt quickly changed from purple to a deep red. He stumbled backwards, tripping over a toy phone.

There was something beneath the bed. He screamed, clawing at the floor as he struggled to right himself, but his head was spinning. The thing beneath the bed bit at his leg, tearing into it. He screamed again, his voice cracking as he kicked the animatronic monster away, dragging himself towards the door.

"You don't like them?" William was standing there, his arms folded against his chest. "I thought you'd find them funny, Vince. You liked scary stuff when you were a kid."

"D-Dad…" Tears stung Vincent's eyes. "Dad… help."

William smiled and bent down, helping Vincent to his feet. "Come on, let's get you patched up." He supported Vincent as they walked together down the hallway.

Vincent's head was spinning like mad, there was so much blood now, and he was leaving puddles of it behind him as they walked. "H-Hospital…" he managed.

"No." William shook his head. "It's not that bad. I'll patch you up." He promised as he entered the passcode for his workshop. He helped Vincent inside, letting the teenager collapse onto the floor near one of the workstations. "Do you know why?"

Vincent stared at him.

"You don't do you?" William crouched down, taking Vincent's face between his hands. "You have no clue…"

"Dad… please." Vincent felt tears gathering in his eyes now. "Please… I'm scared."

"Michael was, too, don't you think?" William stood up, leaving Vincent sitting on the floor. "He was probably terrified when you let those little shits hurt him. You were supposed to keep him safe, Vincent. You couldn't even do that much right." He shook his head in disgust. "You know, William didn't want this. He still doesn't want this."

Vincent's eyes went wide.

"I know, shocking ain't it?" William smiled. "That one person can be two people. Your dad… he does love you, I guess I should tell you that before everything is said and done. He loves Michael more, of course, probably because he and I both think you'll end up as fucked as we are if you live."

"Don't… please… don't."

William picked the knife up off his work bench and walked back to where Vincent was cowering. "It'll be quick, kid." He promised. "Charlie didn't even scream when I killed her. Granted… I fucked you up a bit more with that animatronic." He crouched. "It's name is going to be Foxy, isn't that night? A pirate fox to entertain the kiddies, and you and Foxy will be great friends, right, Vince?"

Vince stared at the knife – his dad had gone completely mental…

"The same way Charlie's good friends with them now. See, no one ever thinks to look in the most obvious of places, Vince. Charlie's been there the whole time. Soon, you and Charlie will be together as well." William glanced up as the Foxy animatronic, still broken and bent, came into the room. "I have a new skin for him there." He pointed towards the suit on the table. "I'll put his exoskeleton inside it, and then… you."

"Dad…"

"Hush," William touched a finger to his lips. "Close your eyes now. It won't hurt."

"Please don't… I love you… please."

"I love you, too." William leaned over and pressed a mocking kiss to Vincent's lips. "But love is a bitch." He dragged the knife across Vincent's throat.

The pain was strange, distant almost. Vincent stared at his father's blood spattered face – and then everything seemed to fade away.

There was a pretty light in front of him – he wanted the light. He reached towards it, but something dark curled around him, dragging him backwards. He screamed, trying to free himself, but he couldn't. When he opened his eyes, he was standing somewhere new and there were voices all around him.

"The kids will love him, Will!" Henry sounded excited. "You did a great job with him."

"I think so." William turned to look at Vincent, and Vincent wanted to tear his throat out – but he couldn't move. "Hello, Foxy." He greeted in his soft voice. "Can you sing us a song?"

Vincent had no voice, but the animatronic did – and it hurt. It hurt to move, it hurt like a thousand needles being shoved into his body – he sang, and danced, and he made people happy… but everything hurt so much.

His gaze drifted towards the main stage – and he saw the image of a little girl standing there in her blood-soaked party dress – there were tears in her eyes as she waved at him.

Vincent sadly waved back.