The birthday parties were over by four, leaving guests trickling in and out until close. An unexpected large group filed in just before eight, and stayed until nearly ten. Franklin and Judy started straightening at 9:30pm so they could be out the door within an hour. Gwen assisted.

"What a day," she muttered after the last guest exited the building.

A set of heavy footsteps caught her attention as she swept up cake crumbs.

"Hey, new guy," she said, giving him a weary smile.

"Greg," he said gently. "Heading home?"

"Soon," she told him. "Just getting the worst of it done before Will gets in."

"Why does Waylon have him on the payroll when you do most of his job for him?"

"It's actually cheaper for him to come in for an hour or two than for us to stay here late," Gwen said. "Less overtime pay."

"Figures," Greg said.

"We leave him the dusting, mopping, and wiping down." She swept the cake into a dustpan and threw it away. "Which I'm fine with. This is easier."

Greg smiled.

"I'll hold down the fort until he gets in," he said.

Gwen nodded, and quickly finished up, before heading to the back room to collect her purse. She shot a look to the back corner, then pulled her purse from a different Bonnie head, where it sat since her last break.

I hope you know what you're doing, Will, she thought.

Judy joined her a moment later, gathering her own things from their hiding place. They walked into the main room to join Franklin, all of them bidding Greg a polite goodbye before heading out. Greg waved them off, then waited for Waylon to leave the manager's office. The manager came out after a long while, pulling on his sweater coat.

"Make sure the janitor gets in," he muttered as he passed the day guard.

"Will do," Greg promised.

Waylon gave him a token wave goodbye as he headed out.

With his coworkers gone, and Waylon unable to snoop, Greg checked the time: 10:14pm. Certain he only had limited time before Will got in, he immediately went to the back room, flipping the light on as he approached Spring Bonnie.

"I don't know why or how you work," he said, "but I bet Schmidt had a hand in it."

Human voice detected.

Disengaging sleep mode.

Jeremy blinked awake as the back room's ceiling came into view.

"...know why or how you work," a familiar voice said, "but I bet Schmidt had a hand in it."

Terror coursed through him. Like that last night alive, Jeremy held still, mentally willing the danger to pass by and leave him alone.

Please go away.

But Gregory Mortman couldn't hear him, not that it would have mattered. His footsteps came closer.

Jeremy held his metaphorical breath. He could only remain still as the day guard approached him.

N-not again! Oh, god, he's coming for me!

It peeked from its box once it heard the waiters leave, and the day guard's footsteps echoing away from it. Puppet watched Greg go into the back room, its eyes flickering with rage as it watched him. With no one else around to see it, Puppet slipped out of its box. It climbed on top of the prize counter, then reached for the ceiling. The marionette floated until it pushed a ceiling tile up enough to crawl into the space above.

It passed by many toys and stuffed animals, broken crayons and bits of paper - trophies it collected over the years, many of them covered in dust and cobwebs. Puppet ignored these items as it navigated its way to the backstage room.

Oh, god, he's coming for me! it heard Jeremy say.

Stay calm, Puppet said. I'm coming.

It pulled itself closer, keeping its thoughts to itself.

And this time, I will not fail you.

Greg loomed over the table, looking down at Spring Bonnie.

Facial recognition engaged.

Auto update date and time: 11/13/1993 10:04:34am

Uploading known database.

Searching…

"I know you work," he said, reaching for the switch on the rabbit's neck. "This is the last time you get in my way, you overgrown cotton ball."

All of time came to a halt as Jeremy realized what Greg was going to do. While not ideal, he preferred being here, in this animatronic form where he could see and feel and think - not like the darkness where he had been trapped before, reliving his last moments of life over and over again.

Was this what happen to people like him?

Was he bound here due to unfinished business?

Please go away, Jeremy begged again. I-I-I don't...I don't w-want to go back on the dark!

You will not, came a calm, robotic voice. Try to hold on.

Wherever it was, Puppet heard him. Jeremy wondered if he actually heard skittering above him on the suit's microphones, or if he simply imagined a skeletal savior coming to his aid.

Greg reached for the switch.

And without a second thought, Jeremy turned to him, looking him dead in the eye as he lifted his hand to grab his wrist.

He took in the day guard's look of shock, savored it, even. Greg's smug mouth no longer smiled. His blue eyes widened, and a panicked breath escaped as he took a step back. Jeremy narrowed the suit's eyes.

This was the face of his murderer, the man who hurt children.

And this time, he saw him clearly.

His hand only managed to graze against Greg's arm.

Only a second later, it clattered back against the table.

Manual shutdown detected.

Auto update date and time: 11/13/1993 10:16:23pm

Charge: 100%

Powering down.

The animatronic moved.

It moved!

Greg saw its head turn, its eyelids move, and heard its hand clamor against the work table. More than that, it looked angry, like it knew what he was doing.

Like it remembered him.

His heart pounded as the shutdown noise filled the air. When the initial moment of shock wore off, he scowled, pulling his hand away from the switch.

"It's a good thing I was going to shut you down for good," he muttered, circling the table.

Something snagged his leg. Greg caught his balance before he could tumble forward. A glance down showed the trip hazard: an old plug that extended from Spring Bonnie's waist. Immediately, his mind went to Schmidt, and how the night guard came from this room this morning.

"Oh, you clever little punk," Greg muttered. "You figured it out, didn't you, Schmidt?"

That scrawny kid was going to wish he'd never gone exploring. He should have stayed away from here like he did back in '87. Greg reached over and grabbed the plug, yanking it out of the wall. He then flipped through his keys, finding a Swiss army knife. He went through the tools until he found the biggest, sharpest blade.

"Always had the most trouble with the ones Bonnie worked on," he muttered as he sawed away at the cord. "Must be that AI she was working on - that damn Puppet in particular."

A smirk as he finally severed the cord's head.

"Shame Afton Robotics went under. They would've paid a fortune for your servos, but no matter. I'm going to make sure you can't come to the party tonight, and then we'll see who's willing to buy when you're thrown to the scrap heap."

Greg turned to the shelves to go to the toolbox, looking for the right wrench to do the job.

He was only stopped by the sound of the door jingle. Greg shot a glance to Spring Bonnie.

"In time, cotton ball," he muttered, before he headed back into the main room.

Up above Spring Bonnie, one of the ceiling tiles shifted out of place.

Will arrived on time as he usually did, though he took a detour to the back of the building first. As he promised Mike and Vanna, he got out of his truck just long enough to ensure the back door was unlatched, before he drove around the building. He watched the last of the kitchen staff leave and lock the door. Once they got in their cars and drove away, he undid their work on the latch.

After that, Will pulled into one of the parking spots up front. Waylon was heading out of the building. Will held up a hand in a wave as he passed, and Waylon simply waved him off in acknowledgement before getting into his own car. He then spotted Gwen having a quick smoke several feet from the front entrance.

Will climbed out of his truck, as Gwen snuffed her cigarette and walked towards him.

"It's done," she said, softly.

"Good," Will said. "Anyone left inside?"

"Just Greg," she said, gesturing to the front windows. "I saw him go into the back room a minute ago."

Will nodded.

"Go home and get some rest, Gwen," he said, "and thanks again for your help."

Gwen smiled.

"Not like I have anything to lose," she said.

Will nodded and headed for the front door. It was still unlocked. The door jingle played above him as he stepped inside. Will listened a moment for the day guard, then headed straight for the supply closet.

Greg knew where to find him.

He got to the closet and started to collect his usual supplies. Will heard the footsteps coming from the back room, and kept his suspicions to himself for the moment.

"Running late, old-timer?" he heard Greg call behind him.

"Somethin' like that," Will said. "Roads were a little slick in my part of town. Had to be careful gettin' out."

"Well, I'm glad you made it in," Greg said.

"Not much can keep me away," Will replied. "Pretty sure I mentioned that before."

He pulled out the broom, a rag, and a chemical bottle, before he stepped out of the supply closet.

"I can see that," Greg said, following him. "Even with what happened all those years ago."

Will ignored him, and set the rag and bottle down on the edge of the stage so he could start sweeping. He made sure to at least keep Greg in the corner of his eye. Knowing what he knew now, he didn't trust him at all. Will shot a quick glance to his watch. At almost 10:50pm, he needed to keep Greg occupied for a little while longer.

"Speakin' of," Will said, "you got me thinkin' a bit."

Greg glanced at him.

"About what?" he asked, curiously.

"Old wounds," Will said simply.

"What about them?" Greg asked.

"You asked about that little girl yesterday," Will said, turning to him. "About Bon's niece that just vanished into thin air."

He swept the room of anything Gwen, Judy, and Franklin might have missed on a quick tidy.

"It was a tragedy," Greg said, softly. "And almost a year after Bonnie herself passed."

The broom made a gentle scrape against the tiles.

"Strange you didn't mention her name," Will said.

Greg stepped towards him.

"Whose name?" he asked.

Will gave him a pointed glance.

"The girl's," he said, softly, "seein' as the twins were here all the time."

"It was such a long time ago," Greg told him. "Over twenty years."

"Figured you might remember her and her sister," Will said, turning to look at him, "seein' as you were always tryin' to impress Bon. Her nieces were the reason she worked so hard on this place after she lost Freddy. Easiest way into her heart."

Greg's cheeks turned pink, but only for a few seconds as he cleared his throat.

"I wasn't-"

"If you weren't, you did a piss poor job of hidin' it," Will said, simply. "The whole staff knew."

He moved to the next section of tile.

"I remember things, Greg," he said. "I remember you said some unkind things 'bout Fred not long after Bon started seein' 'im, and she chewed you out for it. I remember you changed, and were kinder to me and folk like us even when she wasn't lookin'. Always respected that."

Will halted the broom and glanced to Greg.

"So I'm just wonderin' when you stopped carin' 'bout what Bon cared about."

"I never stopped caring," Greg said hotly. "Why do you think I stayed so long after she passed? Took the blame for Fredbear breaking so this place could have some scrap of dignity? Came back for pennies just to do work no one else could do?"

He gestured to the animatronics.

"Notice that, Will?" Greg continued. "I cleaned and tuned them after who knows how long they've been neglected, because I wanted to. You've been coming here how long, and never bothered?"

Will looked up at the stage and stared at it for a long while as he realized Greg was right. All of them, Chica in particular, looked newer and brighter. As his eyes went over them, he noticed extra care had been given to Freddy.

It immediately made him more suspicious.

"...This place wears you down after a while," Will said softly, just to keep the conversation civil. "You get...tired of it all."

He made a point to look at Bonnie before he started to sweep again. Will once more turned away from Greg, but kept him in the corner of his eye.

"As for the critters," Will continued, "...you're right. I think it's just...after all that's happened, I don't like gettin' close. Tighten a joint here and there, but otherwise leave 'em be."

"Then why stay?" Greg asked, stepping towards him.

"You already know why I stay," Will said.

Greg frowned as he leaned against the stage. He gave Will a small nod.

"She wouldn't want you here if it causes you pain," he said gently.

"Ain't just me I stay for," Will said.

"Who else is there, Will?" Greg asked, pushing himself from the stage. "They're all dead or disowned."

Will finished sweeping and gathered the dust in a dustpan.

"You're here," he said simply. "Probably for the same reason."

He quickly emptied the dustpan into the trash.

"It was always about Bon, wasn't it?" Willa asked. "I even heard you made sure to be alone by her side when she passed."

Greg gritted his teeth.

"I was trying to help her!" he snarled.

Will picked up the broom again as he gave Greg a pointed look.

"All that matters to me," he said, gently, "is she was with someone who truly cared about her in her last moments. The way she passed...wasn't pleasant."

He went back to sweeping.

"But I'm still disappointed that she was the only one in her family you bothered to remember."

Will lifted one of the tablecloths to get a few missed crumbs.

"Will, that's not fair," Greg said, stepping towards him again. "You know I cared about her."

"Enough to do the same for her niece," Will said, simply.

"Of course I did!" Greg said, getting angrier by the moment. "What kind of monster would just leave a child to die alo-"

He paled a moment as he realized what he just said. Will narrowed his eyes at Greg, the broom frozen halfway through a sweep.

"Thought you didn't know what happened to her," he said, coldly.

"I...how did you know?"

"I didn't, 'til now."

Will turned to Greg, narrowing his eyes in fury. His hands shook as he tightened his grip on the broom.

"You killed Vesper," he whispered.

Greg glared at him, his fingers tightening into fists.

"No, I didn't! She was already dying when I found her!"

"Then where is she?" Will demanded. "Where's her body, Gregory? What did you do with it? Why did you hide it?"

Greg simply glared at him as he tensed, then turned his eyes to the floor. He refused to say anything further. Will's remaining composure quickly became righteous fury.

"Is that why you came back, Greg?" he asked. "To finish what you started?"

He stepped toward the day guard. Greg stepped away from him, keeping him in sight. Both men circled each other, each keeping a careful distance, but watching the other's movements.

"Is that why you're interested in that suit?" Will continued, taking a small side step. "To make sure it's got nothin' tied to you?"

Greg looked back up at him with a glare.

"And what the hell could it possibly prove?" he asked. "That suit's been cleaned since then."

Will's knuckles turned white as he gripped the broom.

"There's somethin' you don't want found," he said, "or you wouldn't be so invested in it."

He watched Greg step forward, and took a careful step away, keeping the day guard completely in his sights.

"Always bothered me about Bon's death," Will said. "She maintained 'em constantly solely to prevent that. Only other person who worked on 'em was you, Greg. Kind of makes me wonder if her death really was an accident...and if there's somethin' that got overlooked."

Greg stepped forward and attempted to throw a punch. Will held up the broom to block it.

"You can't prove anything," Greg snarled. "It's your word against mine, old-timer."

He grabbed for the broom. Will swung it quickly to keep it out of his hands, but Greg caught the end of the broom on the upswing. He yanked on the handle, forcing the janitor to stumble forward. The day shift guard rammed a fist into the old man's stomach. Will doubled over in pain. He wrapped his arms tightly around his stomach, trying to soothe the fierce throbbing tearing at his insides. Greg grabbed a nearby chair and brought it down on the older man's head, keeping him down for the moment.

"I've been thinking about what you said too, old-timer," he said, lowering the chair for a moment.

Will simply curled in, clutching his stomach as he groaned in pain.

"Particularly the bit about old wounds bringing people back," Greg said.

He kicked Will's side, just to further ensure he stayed down. The old man let out a weak grunt, but was otherwise quiet save for his pained and heavy breathing.

"I don't think it's coincidence Schmidt's found his way onto the night shift," Greg said, "or that Bonnie's old suit still works, or that you two have gotten chummy enough to trade funny stories about this place."

Will simply groaned in response as Greg took a step towards him.

"But what is coincidence," he said, "is you've both been thorns in my side before, and I left you both alone because it wasn't worth it."

He smirked as he raised the chair again.

"Now it is."

Before he could bring the chair down, something yanked it from his hands and threw it aside. It clattered a few feet away as Greg looked up and behind him in time to see long, thin, striped arms retreat back up into the ceiling. He glared up at the empty tile.

"And of all the thorns, you're the biggest, rag doll," he spat.

There was no point in trying to climb up and follow it. Greg stayed near Will, and simply listened for the skittering above him. If it moved around or tried to open another tile, he would know.

But there was no sound up above him to mark the Puppet's location. None of the ceiling tiles moved, and no chimes rang out. Greg kept watching the ceiling, crouching down to pick up the fallen broom. The Puppet remained up in its hiding place so far as he could tell. Greg stood up again and went under the missing ceiling tile. He carefully pushed the broom up into the hole, waving it a little to get the creature's attention.

Either the Puppet was no longer there, or it wasn't taking the bait. Greg held the broom up for a moment before he pulled it down with a frown. He turned to Will, who started to recover, and had since pulled himself toward the nearest table. The janitor grabbed at a chair in an attempt to stand, only for Greg to march over, ending with a swift kick to Will's side again. Will let out a soft cry as he fell down, falling back into the tile. Greg smirked as he heard another sound from the far end of the room.

The Puppet finally marked its location.

"It seems Bonnie's little watchdog likes you, Will," he said. "That's useful to me."

Another swift kick, this one hitting Will's legs as the old man tried to roll away. Will attempted to say something, but only choked out a few indecipherable syllables as Greg kicked him down again, then listened for the Puppet. The day guard saw something move in the corner of his eye: the corner of the long tablecloth swaying.

"Gotcha."

Greg pulled another chair out of his way, then used one end of the broom to carefully lift up the tablecloth, readying himself for an attack.

He saw nothing under the table.

"What-?"

Greg glanced to either side under the table in hopes of seeing where it went, before he caught the back of the tablecloth swaying.

As if Puppet slipped away on the other side.

He stood up quickly, the broom raised and ready to swing as he peered over the table.

Only chairs and empty tiles greeted him.

Greg glared at the empty space as he clutched the broom handle, holding his breath to listen for the creature. He glanced across the table to Pirate Cove, half-hoping to see the curtains move, knowing there was nowhere else it could go without being seen. As thin as it was, the Puppet's head and chest would prevent it from slipping between the video game cabinets along the wall beside Pirate Cove, and if it tried to go down the west hall or into the back room, he would see it.

Yet the curtains remained still, and he saw no sign of the animatronic going in either direction.

With nowhere else to look, Greg quickly glanced up at the ceiling.

And the moment he did, a pale, smiling face hurtled towards him. A familiar chime rang as its hard mask crashed into his forehead.

All around the cobbler's bench.

Greg barely had a second to wonder how it got above him so quickly, before a burst of pain shot over his forehead. His head throbbed as he stumbled back, the broom falling from his hand and smacking into the floor. Dazed and in pain, Greg grabbed for the Puppet, but it slipped like a snake under one of the tables. He growled as he stood up again, his head hazy and throbbing from the prior attack. Greg approached the table the Puppet slid under and shoved it over, knocking over chairs and party hats. In the ruckus, he saw the Puppet skitter under a different table.

"Oh, no you don't, ragdoll," Greg snarled.

He ran over to flip the next table over, but the Puppet had already moved to another one. Behind him, Will started to recover again. The old man crawled for the stage, trying to get behind it and out of Greg's sight. There is a phone in the back room. If he could just get to it…

Will inched towards it, occasionally letting out a pained grunt. He heard another loud crash as Greg shoved another table over, taking several more chairs with it. The muscles in his stomach screamed with every movement, but Will had to get to the back room, lock the door, and call for help.

He heard Greg's footsteps approach. Will turned in time for the other man to grab his collar and yank him back to his feet.

"No more hide-and-seek," Greg hissed.

Will glared and threw a punch, his fist landing hard against Greg's cheekbone. Greg winced in pain and grabbed the old man's wrist, twisting it painfully. Will out let out a cry and tried to yank his hand away.

All around the cobbler's bench.

Greg smirked as the Puppet came flying toward him again. Thinking quickly, he utilized Will as a shield. The Puppet simply gripped Will's shoulders as it closed in, utilizing him as springboard to leap over Greg with the grace of a well-trained acrobat. Greg shoved Will forward and turned around to try to catch the Puppet behind him.

It had already moved.

Greg stepped back as he looked up at the ceiling, expecting another aerial attack. Something gripped his ankles and yanked. Greg shouted as he stumbled back, kicking at the thing that ensnared him. His foot connected with the Puppet's mask, leaving a long crack in its forehead.

The Puppet recoiled for a moment, reaching up to touch its mask. Upon finding the crack, its blue LEDs flashed.

Engage personality_test.

Processing new information.

Activating emotional_algorithm.

Determining factors.

Processing emotional output.

"...So that's your weak spot," Greg said.

He kicked at the Puppet again, aiming for under its chin. A second kick, and the mask came loose, revealing a black metal plate with two sockets for the LED lights to shine through, and an outline of the mouth to allow the servos to vent. Without the mask, the Puppet's face looked like a dark void save for its glowing blue eyes.

Miss Bonnie carefully unwrapped the present. She pulled the mask out of the box and held it up for Puppet to see.

"Do you like it?"

More than anything, because it was her gift.

She put it on and secured the hooks.

"There. You're complete."

Puppet quickly reached for the mask. Its fingers slid over the crack, hesitating only for a second before it picked it up.

"It's only fair that the gift-giver receives the first gift."

She gave it a face like hers.

A wide smile. Red lips. Tear streaks down its face.

She gave it a kiss to show her love.

This is my face.

Puppet was incomplete without it.

Activating emotional_algorithm.

Determining factors.

Processing emotional output…

ERROR: Unable to determine appropriate output.

Too many competing factors.

Retrying…

The floor tiles suddenly zoomed in as its metal endoskeleton face slammed into it. Greg knelt down, keeping his foot on the back of its head as he reached for the switch on its neck.

Manual shutdown engaged.

Shutting down

...

The mask clattered to the floor as a soft powering down sound echoed throughout the room. With the Puppet no longer a threat to him, Greg stood up. He rubbed his throbbing forehead, wincing a bit as he shook off the residual dizziness. The room around him straightened as his vision cleared.

Nearby, he saw Will barely standing, knees painfully bent, with one arm clenched around his stomach and the other holding onto the edge of the stage for support. Greg charged at him, diving to tackle the old man to the floor. Will went down without a fight, easily collapsing under Greg's weight. The day guard grabbed Will's head and slammed it into the floor to further placate him, relishing that small cry of pain.

"If you know what's good for you, old man," he said, "you'll stay down."

Will didn't move. Content that he had him pacified, Greg lifted Will under his arms and began to drag him away. The old man groaned in pain as his body slid over the tile.

"I never wanted to hurt you, old-timer," Greg said. "I never wanted to hurt Bonnie, either, but something about you Wickes always forces my hand."

He grunted as he pulled Will past the dining room tables.

"Normally I'd make this quick," he said, "but you might be a bit more useful to me alive."

A smirk.

"At least for now."

Mike checked the time. 11:28pm. As Vanna promised, she left about forty-five minutes ago after finishing her coffee to do whatever it was she needed to do. He frowned as he stared at his watch. She should have been back by now. What was taking her so long?

The phone rang, jolting him from his spot. He stared at it, wondering who the hell would be calling this late at night. Mike quickly walked over to answer it.

"Hey, Mike," came Vanna's soft voice.

"The hell are you doing over there, summoning a demon?"

"Very funny," Vanna said. "I was just letting you know this took a bit longer than expected, but I'm almost done. Go ahead and head down; I'll be right behind you in a few minutes."

"All right," Mike said.

"Oh, and Mike?"

"Yes, Vanna?"

She hesitated a moment, then took a breath.

"Stay safe," she said, quietly.

"I will," Mike promised. "See you at Freddy's."