Summer 1971
The gentle hum of machinery powering on filled her ears. Vanna glanced up to the two beings towering over her. The darkness of the stage distorted their movements into something strange and unreal. She tried to move, but found herself mesmerized by them, at how the shadows twisted their normal movements.
Two sets of plastic eyes looked down at her. The only other thing she saw for sure were their big, gaping mouths and the white edges of their teeth.
Vanna tried to turn around to run, only to stumble right into Fredbear. Her hand smacked into something flat and metal as she clawed at the air in an attempt to grab onto something.
A sharp scream erupted from her body. Something clattered to the floor. Soft, heavy objects landed on her head, tumbling down her body and tugging at her skirt as they rolled to the floor. The smell of frosting grew heavier. Numerous squishy objects hit the floor around her. Both of the animatronic faces leaned in closer, green and brown eyes now glowing faintly.
Vanna somehow found her legs again and turned around, throwing the curtains open. Her foot slid on something slick, and in another moment, she hurtled forward, slamming down against the steps. Pain shot through her head first, then the rest of her body. She tried to push herself up, turning around in time to see Bunny following from behind the curtain.
Time seemed to stall. The animatronic lost its balance, its face getting bigger as it tilted towards her.
Vanna reached her hands up in defense. Her fingers snagged on the little purple ribbon around the rabbit's ear as she tried to push it away.
Her body smashed into the tile below her. The back of her head burst with pain. The heavy animatronic pushed down against her chest, making it difficult to breathe.
The entire room went quiet for only a second.
And then the startled screams and frantic footsteps rang in her ears as the world faded away.
Jeremy quickly stepped toward Vanna, reaching out to grab her as her gaze faded, her eyes rolling to the back of her head in a faint. Beside him, he heard something small and heavy hit the ground, then a set of padded footsteps trying to get to her as well. Vanna slipped from his plush fingers, her foot missing the steps behind her and throwing her weight towards the hard tile below. His metal body halted in mid-step, all of his joints refusing to move any further.
In the corner of his eye, he saw Freddy's brown hands grab for her, the microphone since abandoned, with similar luck.
Below the stage, Mike caught her instead.
He stumbled back, landing hard on the tile floor as Vanna crashed into him. The night guard winced and gritted his teeth as his pelvis slammed into the hard, smooth surface.
Vanna seemed out of it. She stared up at the ceiling, her green eyes half-lidded, and her perception off. She groaned a bit, unaware of her current surroundings. Jeremy tried to step toward Vanna, but his metal body remained frozen in mid-step, his front foot teetering on the edge of the stage.
All of his joints refused to move any further.
Database search complete.
File found.
Opening…
"Vanna?"
She groaned again, then opened her eyes. Mike helped her sit up, then pressed his feet to the floor. He pushed himself up onto his feet, groaning as he pulled Vanna up with him. Vanna utilized his help, though she remained unsteady on her own legs. She put a hand on Mike's shoulder to support herself, the other curled around his waist.
"...Fuck," she whispered.
Mike shifted a bit for comfort, but continued to let her use him as a brace.
"What did you see?" he asked.
"I saw…"
She glanced up at the stage, where Spring Bonnie hovered over them.
"...Jeremy?" Vanna asked.
He remained frozen, the toes of his back foot propelling him forward as his heel upfront provided proper balance. The old, yellow arms stretched forward.
A moment in time, seconds before tumbling down from the stage.
Freddy lowered his own hands, his ears lowering a little with relief.
All eyes turned to Spring Bonnie.
06/09/1971 11:28:49am
Voice detected.
Child in distress.
Engage gentle_giant protocol.
WARNING!
Uneven surface.
Gyro recalibrating.
ERROR: Unable to recalibrate gyro.
The camera blurred as he fell forward, straight into the face of a terrified little girl. A crashing din erupted on the internal microphones. The ceiling, the girl, the stage, and the tile floor all became a blurry mess as the camera caught the action.
It settled finally on shadowed tile. Muffled sobs echoed out from under him, barely picked out from the sudden screams and footsteps rushing over.
Gyro recalibrating…
Gyro recalibrated.
Resetting default position.
Spring Bonnie's front foot tilted forward until the heel rested flatly against the stage. It then slid back, pulling Spring Bonnie's body back into a standing position, with the arms at his sides like a tin soldier. A moment later, Jeremy shook the animatronic's head, his ghostly pupils once more blinking in confusion.
I...I'm sorry. A file came up, and-
His gaze went to the stage in front of him, where Mike helped Vanna stand again. She seemed out of it, but unharmed. Jeremy quickly left the stage, tromping down the steps to join his friends.
Is she all right? he asked.
Mike gave him a weary nod.
"...Same vision?" he asked.
No, Jeremy said, before he glanced around the room to the other animatronics. Well...maybe? The little ghost girl brought up a file.
He looked down at Vanna, tilting his head in curiosity.
The child in the file looked like the ghost, he said.
"Vanna's twin," Mike said simply.
Jeremy nodded. The Spring Bonnie suit glitched again, fixing itself a second later. Vanna finally stabilized enough to let go of Mike's waist and try to stand on her own, though she kept a hand on his shoulder. The sugary cake smell still overpowered her nose, making her nauseated and unsteady.
"I...slipped…" Vanna said, quietly. "I fell…"
Its balance got thrown off, Jeremy explained, and it couldn't recalibrate the gyro in time.
"Cake," Vanna whispered, finding her own balance again. "It slipped on the damn cake."
Her legs shook, and her other hand found Mike's other shoulder.
"Oh, god," she moaned. "Everything hurts."
Mike gently grasped her wrists to give her more stability.
"You're okay now," he said. "History didn't repeat itself."
Vanna nodded and took another breath. She dared herself to let him go, and partially surprised herself when she remained standing. Jeremy carefully stepped aside to allow Bonnie and Chica to take their proper places.
The room noticeably lightened a little. Mike took a quick look outside. The sky was barely turning a midnight blue. He checked his watch.
5:46am.
Less than fifteen minutes before his shift ended, and Waylon Kent's began.
Mike quickly turned to Vanna.
"You need to leave," he said, quietly, "while there's no one here."
Vanna looked over at the windows, then back at him.
"But Mike-"
Mike cut her off.
"How am I going to explain why you're here?"
Vanna conceded the point.
"...Okay," she said. "Let me just grab my things."
She ran back to the office to grab her purse and her coat. While she was gone, Mike collected his own possessions from the table. Giving a wary glance to the animatronics, and particularly to Spring Bonnie, he slowly buttoned his shirt back up and fixed his badge. The tie, he merely shoved in his pocket, rather than waste the effort to put it back on.
He immediately felt relieved when none of them paid the full uniform any mind. Jeremy even set Spring Bonnie's hand on his shoulder as further assurance that it didn't bother him.
As Mike pulled his hat back on, Vanna came back through the west hall, pulling her red coat over her shoulders as her purse hung over her arm. Her possessions collected, she stopped by the Puppet's box, placing a hand on it. Her lower lip started to tremble. She forced it back as she pulled away, approaching Mike. Mike intercepted her and took her hands.
"You'll be okay?" he asked.
"No," Vanna said, honestly. "Will you?"
"...I don't know," Mike said. "Probably not."
He pulled her into a quick hug, holding her tightly.
"But I'll see you after six," he promised.
Vanna returned it, before she turned to the animatronics on the main stage, then Foxy, then Spring Bonnie.
"We'll be back tonight," she promised, "and we'll do what we can to take care of the Smiling Man."
We'll be waiting, Freddy said.
...Thank you, Jeremy said, quietly.
Vanna forced up a smile. She touched his plush hand as she passed by him, then turned to go without another word. The door jingle rang as she headed outside, picking up her pace as she made her way away from Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, and towards the shopping center nearby.
Mike watched Vanna's retreating form until she turned out of sight, more than relieved that no other vehicles, whether for Freddy's or the numerous other stores here, showed up. He checked his watch again.
5:56am.
Four minutes or so until someone - likely Waylon - relieved him of duty. He turned back to the animatronics, who were all moving back to their places now, save for Spring Bonnie.
What now? Jeremy asked.
"I'm not sure," Mike said.
He glanced to Jeremy, then the back room.
"What's your power level at?"
Um...give me a second.
Spring Bonnie froze for a moment while Jeremy figured out how to pull up the reading without being prompted.
It says it's at 23%. ...This thing loses power fast; I was at a full charge at midnight.
"Then we should get you charged up," Mike said, gesturing for him to follow.
Jeremy guided Spring Bonnie into the back room. He pressed the suit's hands against the work table, and with some difficulty, lifted himself up. The old servos hissed, and the metal feet scraped the floor as he climbed on top, guiding the suit to lie back in its original position. Mike's watch beeped for 6:01am. He quickly shut it off, then found the cord at Spring Bonnie's waist. He tugged at it, measuring out a proper length to plug it in.
...Mike?
Mike looked up to Spring Bonnie's mask staring at him from the table. Silver glints caught the morning light, and Jeremy's ghostly pupils glowed from behind them. Being alone with the suit, the sight unnerved him more than when he had Vanna with him.
"Yeah?" he said, quietly.
...How are Ma and Da? Jeremy asked. After six years…
Mike shifted some of the boxes on the shelf and pretended to look for the socket.
"...They miss you," he whispered, "but they're moving on."
He forced up a smile.
"They've never forgotten, though," Mike said. "Ma still has our pictures everywhere."
He shoved the plug into the socket, then reached up to wipe away a bit of moisture that threatened to form.
"Da's been gradually moving your things to the attic. Ma's kept your bed and a drawer full of clothes. They call it a guest room now, but…"
Jeremy sat up a little, the one good ear perking up.
...They're still hoping, he said, his voice dropping.
"Yeah," Mike agreed, just as quietly.
...What about Thomas? Jeremy asked, hardly daring to ask.
"Gray?" Mike asked with a frown.
Of all the people affected by Jeremy's disappearance, he figured Thomas might have held off hope a little longer. Mike still felt bitter about how quickly Jeremy's boyfriend gave up on him.
"He's...moved on," Mike said, softly. "He transferred to another state not long after you disappeared. Couldn't handle you being gone."
...I see, Jeremy said, quietly.
Mike caught the note of hurt in his brother's voice. He sat back against one of the table legs, trying to push back the rekindled bitterness. A lump formed in his throat. Mike choked it back.
"They're all moving on," he whispered. "I...couldn't. I stayed for about a year after you disappeared. But after that next Halloween, I...I hoped. And then I couldn't do it anymore."
Mike found himself tracing the edge of two connected tiles.
"I moved out right before New Year," he continued. "I spent that year alone in a half-furnished apartment. Since then, I'll see Ma and Da a few times a year, until summer ends. Then they don't see me again until Christmas."
I'm sorry, Jeremy whispered.
He went quiet for a moment as he lied back down again, staring up at the ceiling. Mike shifted against the table.
"...I have your last journal," he confessed. "I stole it before I moved, but I...never read it. I was always too afraid to, in case..."
MIke heard a small creak as Jeremy nodded.
It won't do me any good now, he said, gently. If it was permission you needed, then take it.
Mike shuddered, but nodded. He remained quiet as he continued to stare at the tiles, his eyes now following a long streak in one. Neither brother spoke for a time, until Jeremy bravely broke the silence.
...When...when I realized it was the end, he whispered, all kinds of thoughts went through my mind. Pain, mostly. Fear. But...I remember thinking of the man who did this, and what he probably did to those kids. Then I thought about home, of Ma and Da, Thomas…
The suit shifted on the table.
...You.
He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts.
You came to us because you lost your parents. I helped you get over that, and now, I was leaving you too.
A small hitch, another moment taken.
...It's hazy after that, Jeremy said. Puppet came as I was having those thoughts, and it...somehow, I felt a little peace. That things would be okay, even if just for a moment. And I knew you'd get through it too, somehow.
Mike nodded as he pulled his knees up into his chest. He kept his gaze on the boxes on the shelf in front of him.
"Just...fuck, what do I tell them?" he whispered. "How do I tell them? I barely got Vanna to believe any of this shit."
Worry about it later, Jeremy said, facing the ceiling again. Right now, we all need to rest. And we all need to find the Smiling Man.
"If we can," Mike muttered. "It's not like he's going to just walk through that do-"
A soft jingle echoed through the restaurant. Mike winced, and unwittingly knocked his head back into the table leg.
"Fuck!"
He scrambled to his feet. Maybe whoever just entered didn't hear that.
"Hello?" a voice called.
Double fuck.
"Is there anyone here?"
It wasn't the janitor's simple drawl, or Waylon's impatient screeching. But something about this new voice seemed familiar.
...Mike…
Mike slowly looked at down Jeremy. The mask faced the ceiling again like it did before, though the ghostly pupils looked right at him. The entire effect unsettled him.
That voice, Jeremy whispered, then shifted his pupils towards the door. It's...it's him!
Triple fuck.
Mike gripped the edge of the table, and looked towards the door. Outside, he heard a set of footsteps in the dining room approaching in this direction.
"...He knows I'm here," he whispered.
Mike carefully set a hand on Spring Bonnie's shoulder, more to assure himself than Jeremy.
"But I'll be okay."
Jeremy sounded hesitant.
How do you know?
Mike checked his watch.
"Because if you give it five minutes, Waylon's gonna come in and chew my ass out for still being here," he whispered, for once welcoming of the manager's usual riot act. "The day guard is never in this early. It's too risky for him to do anything."
The footsteps came closer. Mike quickly moved away from the table and towards the door. A glance outside showed a man by the stage, holding the curtain back to check behind it. His tall height and broad shoulders gave him an intimidating appearance, and he wore his guard hat down over his eyes. Mike stepped out of the room, brushing himself off a little.
"Hey," he said, to get the man's attention. "I didn't hear you come in."
The day shift guard turned to him. Mike wasn't sure what he expected, but the man seemed just as taken aback by him. Once over the initial surprise, the man quickly regained composure and gave Mike a soft smile, though it was his eyes that caught Mike's attention: how they seemed to shift in a quick glance to a part of the room before they honed in on him specifically.
Mike wasn't sure how he remained so calm, knowing who this man was. They watched each other for maybe a few seconds, but to Mike, it felt like hours.
"Heh," the man said. "Caught me surprise, there, son."
He looked Mike over again.
"Do forgive me, but for the night shift, I was expecting someone a bit taller."
Mike took the opening to talk. Talking meant buying time. Buying time meant ensuring he had Waylon as a witness.
"Yeah?" he said, crossing his arms in irritation. "From what I hear, all the he-men before me couldn't handle it longer than three days. I've been here a week."
The day shift guard laughed as he offered Mike his hand.
"Greg Mortman," he said. "Dayshift guard, and glorified babysitter."
He chuckled a bit at his own joke. Mike hesitated as he looked him over again.
Peach flesh, just like Jeremy said. Thin blond hair poking out from under his hat. Lines of middle age. A wide smile that every one of his victims seemed to remember. A slight gleam under his collar. Greg's toned arms tightened against his purple sleeves and his broad shoulders spoke enough of his strength.
More than that, something about him looked very familiar.
"Gonna leave me hanging, Mr…?" Greg asked.
Mike quickly took his hand, and tried not wince at the strength of Greg's grip. He beat Jeremy down while wearing that golden Freddy suit. What was he capable of bare-handed?
"...Sorry," he said, registering the question. "Long night. Er, Schmidt. Mike Schmidt."
"You certainly look shaken, but not stirred, Mr. Schmidt."
"Ha," Mike said flatly as he pulled his hand away. "Funny guy."
"I try to be."
Greg seemed to fully take him in, and by his demeanor, looked like he was about to ask him something. Mike had an educated guess as to what he wanted to ask...because he had the same question on his mind. He quickly bit that bullet before Greg could.
"Didn't you work here before?" he asked, trying to play it casually. "You're older, but I recognize you. You used to help with the show."
Greg smiled.
"I did, a long time ago."
Mike nodded, not liking the accuracy of his hunch. Now to go in for the kill.
"Wait…" he said.
Greg tilted his head as Mike looked him over. Mike noticed that while his face remained calm, Greg's posture tensed a little. Not wanting to agitate him further, Mike quickly pulled up a look of proper surprised realization.
"You were also that guard! The one who helped me!"
Greg quirked a brow in curiosity, though his posture relaxed.
"You've got to be specific, son."
"When Freddy broke," Mike said, quietly. "He bit my arm."
Greg's jaw lowered a little in shock.
"You were that kid?"
"Yeah."
"Heh," Greg said, pulling his jovial demeanor back up. "Small world. Will was just talking about how you refused to be scared off the other night. I can see why."
"Will…?"
The door jingle played. The janitor entered quickly.
"Hey, Mike. I was just-"
He stopped as he noticed Greg, then quickly cleared his throat.
"Day shift isn't supposed to be in this early," he said.
"I have something to discuss with Mr. Kent," Greg said, calmly. He then looked back to Mike. "I can see why you like this one, though, Will. He's got a bit of a mouth of him, but he's stalwart."
Greg gave Mike a playful slug. Mike just awkwardly rubbed his arm and took a small step away from Greg the second he looked away.
"And I found out what you meant about him refusing to be scared off," Greg continued. "Not many people return after being bitten by an animatronic."
Will smirked a bit. He shot a glance to Mike, before he turned back to Greg.
"Hope you don't mind, Greg, but the kid and I got plans."
"Plans…?" Mike started.
"Breakfast," Will said, simply. "Remember? You promised to share that other wild story from here. Said it'd take too long to cover before the start of your shift."
Mike was still a little confused, but then it clicked.
Will was giving him an exit.
"Right, thanks for reminding me," Mike said, quickly. "Long night."
"No worries," Will said, before turning to Greg. "I'll see you tonight."
Greg gave him a small salute.
"I'll hold down the fort until management gets in."
"You won't be waitin' long," Will said. "Waylon tends to be in by now, though I'm surprised he ain't already here."
He made a quick once-over of the room, before he turned to Mike.
"...Thought your girlfriend was meeting us?"
Mike stared at him a moment, before he realized what he meant.
"Oh! No, we have to pick her up," he said, quickly.
He checked his watch.
"And speaking of, we should get going," Mike said.
He turned to Greg.
"Nice to meet you."
"Heh. You too, son," Greg replied. "Maybe I'll see you later."
Mike really didn't like the sound of that.
"...Sure." He turned to Will. "Ready?"
"Sure am. Let's go."
Will gestured to the door, which Mike only too eagerly walked towards. The door jingled, and Mike quickly pulled out his keys. His entire body felt like it let out a breath that had been held too long, and his skin suddenly felt a chill that had nothing to do with the November wind.
"You okay, kid?" Will asked, once they were safely out of earshot.
"Let's just go get Vanna," Mike said, quietly.
"After that, you follow me," Will said.
"Why?"
Will gestured to the building.
"We got things to discuss, and the walls could have ears."
Mike nodded in understanding, and quickly unlocked his car.
"...Somethin' bothering you, kid?" Will asked.
Mike tilted his head towards the building, then got into his car. Will nodded in understanding, and climbed into his green truck. He waited for Mike to pull out first, then followed him. Mike wearily guided his car out of the Freddy's lot and into the shopping center to look for Vanna.
Once outside the danger zone of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, he let his mind focus on when and where he last saw Gregory Mortman.