Trigger warning: discussion of murder.

When William was nine years old, his teacher had tried to explain the concept of morality to them. They were learning about religion and it seemed that their teacher had decided that now was as good a time as any to have a discussion about right and wrong. She got the class to name examples of things that were good and things that were bad. After that, she asked them could anyone tell her why, for example, stealing something from the shop was bad.

William raised his hand. Because you'll get caught, he said. And you'll get in trouble.

She'd nodded and written that up, but then asked whether there were any other reasons that you shouldn't steal. William thought about that, but came up blank: if you weren't going to get in trouble, and you had the opportunity to get something without paying for it, why wouldn't you steal it? After some time, a boy who sat in front of William put up his hand and said, Because it's not fair to the shopkeeper if you leave without paying.

The teacher seemed more impressed with this kid's answer and then proceeded to teach the class about altruism. She wrote the word up on the blackboard and William wrote it down in his notebook, making a note to learn the spelling of it in case it came up on a test. She explained that it meant doing good just for the sake of being good. Not for any reward. Not to prevent yourself from getting into trouble. Just because it was the right thing to do. And William looked around at his classmates, trying to read their expressions and wondering whether any of the rest of them were seeing the weakness in that logic.

Since he was a child, he'd had little interest in morality. He did things based on how much benefit they held to him versus their risk of causing harm to him. Trying to live by an outdated system that was there to keep stupid people in line didn't seem sensible to him.

Of course, he had never suspected that he would end up in this position.

He and the man walked in silence. William didn't want to be the first one to speak - he didn't trust himself not to say the wrong thing - so he kept his mouth shut, wondering about what the man would show him next. Perhaps what happened to Elizabeth. It had happened four months after sending Sara away, on a cold November afternoon. William had brought her to work, as he did quite often these days now that she didn't have older brothers or a mother to look after her. After all, she was still only six. He'd thought that it would be easier.

Not so. Elizabeth was the opposite of what Stan had been like at that age. She was a lot closer to Norman. She ran around his office, laughing hysterically as she knocked over papers, or she'd dance for him, shouting when she thought he wasn't paying enough attention to her. William would offer a tight smile and tell her to come and sit on his lap. Usually she would, delighted to spend time with Daddy, even if it was in his boring old office. She'd sit there and watch as he worked on accounts, offering to do the math herself. I'm good at math. My teacher says so. William would laugh and tell her that Fredbear's would be lucky to have her on board when she was a bit older.

As exhausting as Elizabeth was, William was so relieved that it was just the two of them now. Looks-wise, she was Sara's double, but there was still a lot of William in her personality. She was a lot more cheerful than he'd ever been as a child - that was definitely from her mother - but she was about as clever as he'd been. Sara hadn't always liked that, noting how Elizabeth was getting a lot better at lying her way out of getting into trouble at school. She'll be a politician at this rate, said William in one of his lighter moods. Sara rolled her eyes. Be serious, William.

Elizabeth. His little girl. His pride and joy. And, at that point, the only person he loved.

"Oh, your daughter." The man's voice was soft. "I suppose you think she's your saving grace."

William looked up. "I didn't say that."

"That doesn't matter, I can tell. How well did that go for you, William?"

That November afternoon. Elizabeth might have been his favourite, but she was so difficult. That afternoon she was particularly grating, or maybe he was just in a particularly bad mood. In the end, he said that she could play by herself around the shop. Really? Her eyes were wide. Yes, he told her. Be careful, and I'll come and get you later. She grinned, thanked him and ran off. He sat back in his seat, breathing a sigh of relief.

She got too close to that animatronic.

She should have listened to him.

"What kind of father lets his daughter wander off in the shop full of dangerous animatronics?"

"I told her -"

"And you didn't even send anyone to look after her?" The man raised his eyebrows. "Some father."

"Oh, because I wasn't the best family man, that makes me a monster?" William's voice was getting louder and higher-pitched. This feeling – his stomach tying itself into knots, his legs becoming weak – wasn't familiar to him. He didn't enjoy it. "I didn't even kill any of them – and don't say I killed Elizabeth, because you know as well as I do that's not true – and Michael chose –"

"'I didn't kill them, I didn't kill them, I didn't kill them.'" The man spoke in William's voice. It stopped William short. Returning to his old voice, he said, "Well, let's go with that for a second. What difference does that make? What else did you have to offer the world, really?"

William hesitated, his mind going blank for a split second. Then it hit him. "I had the business." It was like a hand squeezing around his chest had let go. "Fredbear's. It brought so much joy to people. I worked hard on that, it was mine. I did that." And he had. No one could ever take that away from him. Whatever else he'd done, he had that business and everything it had brought to people.

"Oh, the business." The man rolled his eyes. "And what happened there? You say you didn't kill your children - what about the people you did kill? What about the people outside of your family that you hurt?"

"I –"

"What about Henry?"

Henry.

Henry.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He could still see Henry's face in front of him. They'd met at college, studying business together. Like Sara, Henry had that magnetic quality that William was fascinated by. He'd been the first person to say hi to William in their class, asking questions about him and seeming genuinely interested in the answers. Over time, the two became closer, bonding over their shared course and interest in starting a business of their own. When they left college, it wasn't long before they opened Fredbear's Family Diner.

Henry had been there through everything. He was the first person William called to tell that Sara was pregnant and, nine months later, when Michael was born. He'd stood at the altar at Michael's christening, promising to renounce Satan and all his evil. They were each other's best men and William still remembered coming to visit Henry in the hospital after Charlie was born, seeing his friend hold his newborn daughter in his arms and staring at her as if he'd never seen anything so beautiful. He remembered Henry calling him a few days later, his voice shaky, to tell him that his wife Nancy had died from complications from the birth.

Henry was dead too. Where was he? Where was Michael?

He blinked, and the scenery changed. They were standing in the manager's office in Fredbear's. Snow was falling outside. A calendar hanging on the wall told him that it was December of 1986. Michael and Norman had left almost two years before, at the start of 1985. Sara had been gone by the end of July. William remembered Christmas that year - so soon after Elizabeth's death - watching people give him sympathetic glances, say I'm so sorry for your loss. He heard what they said when they thought he wasn't listening too. How is the poor man still standing? This year hasn't been kind to him. There'll be no Christmas in that house this year.

This Christmas, however, he was working away, quietly content with the new life he had built for himself. He was alone, not only at home, but at work as well. As of a few months ago, he was the sole owner of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. That was the way he liked it: no one to bother him, no one to get too close and suspect that, under that calm appearance was a man who'd murdered six children. A man who, in the background, furiously worked on his own business: to find immortality.

William looked at himself sitting behind the desk, a pen in hand as he wrote down figures in the accounts. He was totally absorbed in the task, his brow furrowed. William had always been good at math. He liked how simple numbers were: you could add them, subtract them, multiply them and divide them with ease, and there was always only one right answer.

The door swung open and William looked up. Henry stood there, looking exactly like the mess he was. Henry had been a good-looking man, once upon a time. He was tall – taller than William – and looked a little younger than he was, with his dark red curly hair and bright smile. All of that was gone. His hair – now entirely grey – was overgrown and he looked like he'd aged ten years in the previous three. His too-big clothes went some way to hide how much weight he'd lost, but his face had that sunken-in look that you see in men thirty years older than he was. William made no effort to hide his distaste.

"Henry Emily." His voice was polite but detached. It was the same voice he used with disgruntled customers. "Haven't you heard that knocking before entering is considered polite these days?"

"Don't give me that." Henry's voice was hoarse, a million miles away from that clear, ad-friendly voice that welcomed families during the early days. At the time William had vaguely wondered whether the stress had driven Henry to take up smoking again. Looking at it now, he wondered whether it was just a case of underuse. Who was Henry talking to? Who was listening? If no one responds to a person for a while, eventually they stop talking, their loneliness closing in on their throats until it chokes them. William tried to quash the satisfaction that that gave him.

"Sorry, Henry." William stood up and walked towards him. Henry flinched, probably ready to punch his lights out if necessary, but William just closed the door. He walked back and sat on the desk, hands clasped on his lap. "You've seen better days."

"Stop it," said Henry through his teeth. "You monster, and you have the nerve to –"

"Hang on, hang on." William raised his hands. "Slow down. Why am I a monster?"

Henry looked at William as if he was an idiot. "Don't play stupid with me. You know exactly why I'm here."

"Why? To scare away the customers? I know we didn't leave things on the best of terms, but surely trying to sabotage my business is a little unfair."

"Our…" Henry trailed off. "It doesn't matter. That's not why I'm here. I'm here because of Charlie."

"Charlie." William made a humming sound. "Where did that time go? It's been, what, almost four years? Yes, it'll be four years next year. Remind me, how old would she be?"

The sound that came out of Henry was barely human. A strangled wail, like an animal who'd gotten its foot caught in a trap. William remembered wondering why almost everyone he knew had crumbled and broken in the last few years. Was there something different about him, something inhumanly strong? Or had he just had the bad luck to pick the weakest people to include in his life?

Henry recomposed himself. "You killed her." His voice was shaky. It lessened any intimidation that he may have been hoping to inspire.

William raised his eyebrows. "And where, might I ask, did you get this information?"

"I've been going through that night ever since it happened." He started pacing. Henry was never still, always moving around, waving his hands when he spoke. Even when he was sitting down, he would often play with a pencil, or unobtrusively tap his fingers on the table. "Everything about it. I just went into the pizzeria for a few minutes, and when I came back…" He shook his head. "I thought it was someone I didn't know. A stranger. A monster that took her from me. Because that was easier than thinking it was someone I knew."

William didn't interrupt. He wanted to see where Henry was going with this.

"But then more children started disappearing. People were turning to me, to you, to Fredbear's. People thought there was something wrong with us. And I thought, what if it was one of the workers? I mean, how could I not think that?" His voice was rising, higher and higher and higher, like Stan's did when he was alive. William remembered how uncomfortable this had made him. Henry was an adult. He shouldn't have been acting like a child.

"And I realised that it had to be someone who was working that night. It was only the four of us. Frank and Larry, those two boys that used to work with Michael. They were cleaning up, I remember, and besides I knew that it couldn't have been them. They were just kids. So that just left you."

"Hmm." William leaned forward. "Isn't it simpler to think that it's just some psycho stalking the diner because it's an easy target for kids? What motive would I have?"

"You tell me!" Henry's voice had reached a scream. Any minute now and the workers William had hired would wonder what was going on. "I don't know why you killed Charlie. What motive could there have been? How could someone – my friend – want to do that to a little girl?"

William said nothing.

Henry stopped pacing. "I went to visit Sara, you know."

This was new. William himself rang the hospital to check in every now and then - couldn't look like he didn't care - but he hadn't been to see Sara since Elizabeth died. He went and sat in front of her and told her the news, wondering how she'd feel at the knowledge that their final child was gone and wondering why he didn't feel more strongly himself. He'd expected nothing, given how little Sara responded to him these days. How wrong he'd been.

When he left the hospital that day, her screaming words were still bouncing around in his head.

"Yes." Henry glared at him. "Everyone thinks she's crazy thanks to you. I did too, at first. I felt so sorry for her. It turns out I was feeling sorry for the wrong reasons. What did you do to her, William? She was always so happy –"

William cut across him, a snap in his voice. "And, tell me, is Sara still spouting the same unfounded shit as she was before, or has the shock therapy sorted that out?"

Henry blinked. "She… She… She told me everything, William. Everything. How you treated your children, Michael especially, and poor Norman after what happened to Stan. I felt sick. How could I have worked with such a monster? You were my friend, William, my closest friend. I can't believe I never noticed. I should have noticed."

William paused. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. "Because if you had, Charlie would still be alive?"

Henry's mouth dropped open.

William nodded. "You were lucky, Henry. I didn't always realise that. When Nancy died, I wondered how you'd cope, raising a child on your own. I was having enough trouble with the boys, and I had Sara's help. But as time went on, I realised how lucky you were. You only had one." Henry's face was twisted with fury. He looked grotesque. "Besides, you had enough time with her, didn't you? Charlie, I mean. She was six, seven? You'd already seen her first words, first steps, all of that. That's enough, really. After that, they turn into brats, every single one of them. They turn on you, expecting everything from you and giving nothing in return. But you can't retaliate, because if you do, you're branded an abusive monster. I saved you a lifetime of that."

"Don't you dare!" Henry slammed the desk, his face bright red. "Don't you dare try to justify what you did to me! You ungrateful monster, talking about how you hated your kids – how dare you? All I had with Charlie was seven years. Do you know what I'd give up to have just to have one more day with her?" His eyes were shiny and wet. "My job, my reputation, the rest of my life… I'd throw that all away for just one more day. She was everything to me and you took her from me! You killed my baby!" Without further warning, the tears started to flow freely and he began to sob.

William stared at him. It was clear that his mild irritation had transformed into disgust, coming close to horror. This man was not only different from the friend he had had since he was nineteen, he was totally unrecognisable. This was worse than Sara, even. He remembered how badly he wanted to grab Henry and shake him. Look at yourself. You're forty-four years old and you're acting like a child. She was seven years old, what's there to miss? She was barely a person! Get over it!

"I can see you're upset," said William.

Henry looked up at him. He didn't even try to wipe the tears away.

"You were there for her through everything." William's voice was very quiet. "Her first words, her first steps, like I said. Her first day at school. You had to be. No mother, no one else to help. But you weren't there when she died. I was. Would you like to know what it was like?"

Henry opened his mouth, but he said nothing. Only air came out.

"It was so easy. She trusted me. Children are so gullible, although I suppose there's no reason she wouldn't trust me. After all, her father trusted me, didn't he?" William smiled. "That was your mistake, I suppose."

"Stop."

"Do you know what I told her? I said that her father sent me to get her. I carried her out, and she wouldn't stop complaining about how cold and wet it was. If only she knew what was coming."

"I don't want to hear this."

"She tried to escape from me. It didn't work. I'd already stabbed her once then. She was crying, saying it hurt, and I kept on stabbing her. There was so much blood in her, more than you'd think for someone so small." He stepped closer to Henry. "Do you know what her last words were? She was calling out for you. Screaming out 'Daddy, Daddy', for a father that never came –"

Henry punched him, straight in the mouth. Blood spurted from William's face and he stepped away, moving behind the desk. Henry leaned over, hitting at him, landing some blows, missing some others. The whole time he was screaming, mostly unintelligible noises but occasionally words like monster and murderer.

The door opened again. William looked up to see two of his workers. Steve and Dan had started working here shortly after Henry had left. He leaned over, looking at them over Henry's shoulder. "Gentlemen." His voice was louder. "Could you please escort Mr Emily from the premises?"

"What's going on?" asked Steve.

"He's delusional, and he's trying to attack me." William grabbed a tissue from his desk and held it to his bleeding mouth. He'd have a swollen lip.

Both men looked more than a little disturbed, but they worked quickly. They walked over and each took one of Henry's arms. Henry thrashed, trying to throw them off, to no avail. Both Steve and Dan were at least ten years younger than him and much fitter as well. They pulled him away as he continued his ravings. William sat down, still holding the tissue to his face as he picked his pen back up. He frowned down at the book, then sighed and bent his head down, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Why are you showing me this?" William asked. "What difference does it make what I did to Charlie? Henry got his revenge, didn't he? He killed me."

There was no answer.

"Hello?" William turned around. The man was gone.

"Hello?"

He walked over to the desk, his mind racing. He looked down at himself, trying to remember what that day was like. Why couldn't he remember what he did next? Why was it only Henry's visit that stood out?

When he heard the man speak again, he froze. It was a different voice. Another one he recognised. One that he knew almost better than he knew his own, one that he was so used to, one that had told him not to keep the devil waiting. The last voice he'd heard on Earth.

"Now, who other than a monster does that?"

Henry.

Author's note: Well, this was a fun chapter to write! I hope you enjoyed it and I apologise for the long wait. Thank you all once again for favouriting and following, I hope you're enjoying this story and my take on William and his family.

Next chapter will hopefully be coming soon. It's the last one in this story. Stay tuned.