Please Note: This is a crossover between Sherlock Holmes and Five Nights at Freddy's. FNAF is a horror franchise chock full of dead bodies, and our heroes will not be immune from that. However, there will be NO established child characters who die, all children deaths happen "offscreen," and everything is implied, not graphic. Readers, please use your own discretion. This was written for Firehawk1100 who is, in real life, my brother :) He asked me for this very excitedly. I admit I was less enthusiastic, but now I'm happy with how it turned out. I hope you enjoy.

"Did you get the job?" Sherlock Holmes asked as soon as his friend John Watson returned, not so much as waiting until he closed the living room door.

"Yes," Watson replied, blinking in surprise at the sudden inquisition. He could tell Holmes had been pacing as he waited for him to get back, something he rarely did during the course of a normal investigation. This case, however, was not normal. Watson reached out, laying his hand on Holmes' arm. "It wasn't so bad," he assured him. "As a matter of fact, the whole atmosphere of the place seemed welcoming. Friendly."

Holmes shook his head, sighing and tiredly collapsing in his chair. "The more I look into the case the less I like it, Watson. I want to end this quickly. Tell me what your endeavors yielded today. How was it? Asking about the job, I mean."

"Relatively normal," Watson said with a shrug, taking his own chair gratefully and reaching for his pipe. "The man who met me was one of the original owners, Mr. Henry. Strangely enough, he didn't give me his last name, but it seemed like that was intentional so he seemed open and honest, not stuck behind formalities. It made sense in my mind, anyway. If it was nefarious, it shouldn't be hard to find his last name. He was, indeed, friendly, Holmes, and I liked him."

"One of the original owners, you say?"

"Yes. He and his partner built the first location in Oxford, but later sold the rights to the whole thing. Still work there, though. Deucedly odd, but understandable, I suppose, considering what happened in '83 at the Oxford location."

"So Henry No-Last-Name-Given met you. Was he the one who interviewed you?"

"Yes. The other previous owner, a man named Mr. William Afton, was also there, but he was repairing one of the attractions at the time and I didn't see him. Mr. Henry's questions were normal, but I had the sense that the whole interview was only a formality. I believe he would have hired me no matter what I replied to his questions. He especially liked that I've been a soldier and know my way around a confrontation, but I don't think he would have turned me away even if I wasn't qualified. He seemed tired, Holmes; there were dark bags under his eyes and he kept running his hand through his hair, pulling at it as if he was frustrated. I think he's been acting as the night guard, pulling double duty, as it were."

"But that's not what you got hired for, correct?"

"Correct. I'm going to be the daytime security guard. All things considered, it doesn't seem like that bad of a job. The whole place is quite charming. 'Ferguson Fredbear's Family Circus.' It's exactly what it sounds like, except with less tents, less live animals, and no gypsies. They have a large ballroom and bar for parties, a restaurant, a bakery, and a section especially for kids."

"I have here a map of the place. Look it over with me and tell me if it is accurate?"

"Of course." Watson stood, taking the map from Holmes and spreading it out on the kitchen table. Holmes joined him, and they both studied it.

"This is the main entrance here," Watson said, pointing it out. "This other door marked on your map leads to an office that is inaccessible to guests. Mr. Henry interviewed me there." He took a pencil, marking a new room on the map. He also marked the large rooms with labels.

"The first room you enter is the restaurant and bakery where they make all kinds of sweets like at a real carnival. There is a stage here where the attractions entertain the guests while they eat. There is another stage in the ballroom, which is this room, connected to the right of the restaurant. Connected to the left is the children's area, and there are two, smaller stages there."

He continued drawing on the map. "This door connected to the children's area leads to an outdoor entertainment arena. There is a carousel where children can ride ponies while an organ grinder plays carnival music. There is also a large climbing structure outside complete with slides and swings. The barn is back here, and it houses the ponies and some other animals. They have cows and chickens that both supply the restaurant and that the children are allowed to visit."

"How many?"

"Does it matter?"

"I don't know yet."

Watson sighed, closing his eyes. "They have twenty ponies," he said. "I'm sure of that, because Henry assured me they make it a point to never overwork them. Only half of them work at a time, while the others are out in pasture. I counted five cows, but there were more stalls than that, so there may be more. Over two dozen chickens, but I'm not about to attempt to count them. I did manage to get a look at the barn loft, and it's packed with straw and hay as you'd expect. Everything, as far as I could see, was neat and well kept. They employ three stablehands who run the barn and the carousel, and I was able to meet two of them. They both seemed amiable and knowledgeable and liked Mr. Henry as a boss."

"And inside the children's area?"

"There is an indoor climbing area here," Watson replied, doodling on the map. "It is shaped like a ship, complete with a captain's wheel, and the children apparently like to play 'king of the hill' to be the captain of the ship. Of course, there are several large chests as the ships 'cargo' that house toys for the girls and boys to play with: everything from skipping ropes to baby dolls to hoops and sticks. Employees dressed as carnival people also amuse the guests, but the real attractions, as you know, are the mechanicals."

Watson flipped the map over and began sketching. "Of course, Ferguson Fredbear himself is a bear. He is a musician, and plays the violin for the children. He wears a tuxedo and a tophat, quite recognizable."

Holmes listened intently as Watson sketched. "And he is mechanical?"

"Yes," Watson answered. "He can move on his own, and a miniature gramophone inside his body provides the violin music while he 'plays' his."

"Do the other mechanical animals have this ability?" Holmes asked.

"Yes. This is Ferguson Fredbear's friend, Lally Lapin. He plays the harp in time with Ferguson's violin and also wears a tuxedo, just no tophat because, I assume, of his large rabbit ears. The chicken, Clarissa Chantecler is the singer, and sings opera as the other two play. She wears a shimmering white dress and is supposed to be the diva of the group. Finally, there is a Fox, Frances Fox. The small stage in the children's area is his alone, and he dances a jig to sea shanties that play on his gramophone. He is dressed as a sailor, and the children love him. There are other, small mechanical figures around, but none on such a grand scale as these four. Mr. Henry and Mr. Afton are their creators, and when they first made the technology they gained several wealthy investors who were impressed with what they could do. That is how they opened the first location."

"These mechanicals," Holmes mused, "How large are they?"

"Over a meter and a half, I'd say," Watson replied, quickly sketching one out in relation to a child and an adult. The mechanicals were in between the two. Holmes studied the sketches Watson had made, thinking it was a very odd little group of animals to choose. Why have a sailor fox in with the others?

"And you didn't meet Mr. Afton?" Holmes asked.

"No. And I didn't really see anything suspicious. There were no private, secluded areas other than the office which I was interviewed in… except for one. There is a safe room." Watson flipped the map back over, drawing a room behind the main portion of the building where the backstage area and kitchens would be.

"A safe room? What purpose does a safe room serve in a family carnival?"

"According to Mr. Henry, it was Mr. Afton's idea. He was worried that if the place became popular, a child might accidentally get separated from their parents in a crowd. The safe room is a place for children and parents to reunite if they get lost. It is most used for storage at the moment."

"Now that's suspicious," Holmes murmured. "Did you go in?"

"No… not right away, at least. Mr. Henry didn't take me in, but after the tour he gave me of the building, I snuck back. I wanted to see if I could get in, and I was in luck. Someone had just entered, and I got a glimpse inside. It's a bit small, and is crowded with boxes and mechanical experiments. I didn't see any damning evidence of wrongdoing. If the missing children are hidden in the place, they aren't anywhere obvious. When I get my keys, I'll take another look."

Holmes raised his hands, steepling them under his chin in that peculiar way of his. "Anything else?"

"Yes. I mentioned that Mr. Henry looked tired, but now that I look back on it, it seems to me that perhaps he was overworking himself on purpose to distract himself from something." Watson swallowed hard, the 'like we do,' going unsaid. "Do we know who the missing children are, Holmes?" he asked softly.

"We do," Holmes replied, fetching a newspaper from a mess on the floor. "If you recall, there was one girl found dead a few years ago outside the first location, the one that shut down after the other child was killed in an accident. Now, five children have gone missing around this location. Let's see, no names have been published in the newspapers yet, but here are the descriptions. You think one of them was Mr. Henry's child?"

"I do. I asked him if his own children enjoy the place, and he responded very vaguely that he had a daughter who used to. I didn't pry, as he insinuated his wife was no longer around, but one of the children very well may be. Speaking of those first two deaths, did you find anything today?"

"No," Holmes grumbled, frowning darkly. "It's been too long. I found the alley where the girl was murdered, and I talked to the doctor who autopsied the bite victim, but nothing came of it."

"Bite victim?"

"Yes. The mechanical failure apparently caused the bear to bite the victim's head. That was the cause of death."

Watson shuddered. "I knew he was crushed," he murmured, "but that's horrible. That means the mechanical parts of these animals must have quite the force behind them."

Holmes nodded. "When do you start working?" he asked to change the subject.

"Tomorrow. Did you get a hold of Wiggins?"

"Yes. He'll be here. He needs a bath, haircut, and new clothes, but once he is presentable I'm sure he will be able to pass for my son. I have to pay him extra for this case, you know, as compensation for the teasing the other boys will put him through when they see him with his hair slicked back like he's a gentleman's son. We will see you there around midday tomorrow. What else should I know?"

Watson hesitated, and Holmes raised his eyebrow. "If you think something is important, so do I, Watson," he assured his friend. "If it comes to nothing, then so be it."

"In the children's area," Watson said slowly, "there is a puppet show. It should be simple, but there is one marionette in particular… I don't know what it is about it that makes me feel so odd. It's not even mechanical, it's operated by strings, but being close to it makes me… sense something. Like a presence, Holmes. Not a bad one, but something. Maybe it's just knowing about the dead and missing children that makes me feel that way. You must think me ridiculous."

Holmes was frowning, but his eyes were thoughtful. "That I don't know about, Watson, but I will keep my eyes and mind open regarding it. Anything more?"

"The original mechanical animals, they're in the new location."

Holmes' eyebrows raised again. "Really?"

"Yes. Originally, it was only Ferguson Fredbear and Lally Lapin, and they were both mechanical and costumes."

"How does that work?"

"The mechanical parts could be pushed back and locked in place to allow a human to climb in and operate the animal as a costume. They are much larger than the ones now, and they are stored in the safe room with the other boxes."

"I see. That does seem… wrong."

"Yes, it does. I understand the accident that killed a child at the first location in Oxford was just a mechanical failure, but why keep the mechanical bear that did it? Why bring it here to London? It seems so morbid, and the bear isn't even functional. I saw it broken in the safe room."

Holmes nodded. "You certainly did bury the lead with that one, Watson. Tomorrow," he mused, "we will see if we can find more answers."

"Tomorrow," Watson agreed, sighing tiredly and yet knowing he wouldn't be getting any sleep that night. Neither of them ever did rest well when the case they were working on included murdered, missing, or kidnapped children. It had been hard on Watson to be at Ferguson Fredbear's that day and act normal while knowing children were missing.

Holmes, meanwhile, had traveled to Oxford and visited the first location to investigate the two deaths that had happened there. He also had been badly affected by the being at that location, and neither would he be resting easy that night.

The two of them lingered together in the living room, Watson attempting to read and Holmes plucking at his violin, each trying to chase away dark thoughts. Eventually, Watson nodded off in his chair, and Holmes covered him with a blanket before lying down on the couch and continuing to pluck at his violin until he, too, finally fell asleep.

Tomorrow is another day.

John Watson chose a place near the front doors to stand. There were no parties happening in the ballroom, just patrons visiting the bar, and his vantage point gave him a view of the main space as well as most of the children's room. He was aware of when Holmes and his "son" came in, but he didn't show it, only slipped Holmes the ring of keys he'd been given that morning so Holmes could snoop in the office if he felt it necessary. Holmes and Wiggins ate together like a regular little family, and then Wiggins ran off to the children's room while Holmes left and went into the ballroom. Watson kept his eyes on Wiggins, determined to make sure nothing even slightly untoward happened to him.

Everything was normal for a while. Holmes must have briefed Wiggins well, because he made sure to only play where he could see Watson, too, even when the other children begged him to go ride the ponies with them. Instead, he and some other children watched Frances Fox dance his jigs before climbing on the pirate ship and 'taking turns' being captain by pushing others away from the wheel.

Watson relaxed a bit, letting himself focus on the rest of the main area as well, and not just the children. But then, only a few minutes later, Watson noticed something odd: the kids had all left the ship and were gathered in a cluster. Watson stepped closer to see that they were looking at. It was the Lally Lapin suit from the first location! Someone was wearing it and speaking with the kids, gesturing to the five of them to come with him.

Watson wasn't going to let them out of his sight, quickly following after them. They were headed towards the back of the place, all following Lally, and Wiggins made sure to be at the back of the group, looking back towards Watson to make sure he was coming. Watson nodded at him, and Wiggins relaxed, following along like the other children.

Watson hung back a little ways, waiting to see what was happening before he intervened. He didn't want to get fired day one if this was normal, but neither was he about to let anything untoward happen. He watched as the rabbit led the kids into the safe room, gesturing at them to be quiet. Watson kept watching from a distance until he realized the rabbit was closing the door.

He ran forward, shouting, but the door shut shut before he got there. He pounded on it, screaming. "Open this door!" he called urgently. "Holmes! Mr. Henry! Someone, help me!"

"Watson?" he heard someone call.

"Holmes! The keys! Now!"

Holmes threw them, and Watson scrambled to find one that fit the lock.

"What's going on here?" demanded Henry, also running towards them.

Watson threw the door open, ignoring everyone else to rush in and tackle the rabbit. It was for nothing, though. The suit was empty.

"It's okay, Doctor," Wiggins said, and Watson saw his arms were around the other, smaller children, as if he was reassuring them as well. "Ain't nothin' happened, sir. You spooked 'im real good an 'e got out quick. There's a little hatch there he slipped through. See it, sirs?"

Holmes quickly found the hatch Wiggins pointed out. It was in the top corner of the room, and Holmes jumped up and grabbed the edge of it, pulling himself up and slipping through after the mysterious man easily.

"What is going on here?" Henry cried again.

"Did you know this suit was being used?" Watson demanded.

Henry's face paled as he took in the two original suits. "What the hell is that doing here?" he murmured, and his hands started to shake.

Watson sighed. "Get these children away from here. Keep your eyes on them, understand?"

"Of course," Henry murmured. "Of course. Come on kids, let's get you some sweets from the cafe."

Watson also saw the hatch, but he wasn't as lithe and athletic as Holmes, and got to it rather awkwardly by climbing on boxes. He fell through, and it was only Holmes at the bottom catching him that kept him from hitting the ground hard.

"He's gone," Holmes growled, setting Watson on his feet. "I only saw a vague, purple silhouette of a man in the dark, but he got away through what must have been another hidden passage and I couldn't find the entrance to it. He's long gone by now."

"Where are we?" Watson asked, looking around.

"Behind the stage in the ballroom, I think," Holmes answered. "Come, Watson. We need to… I'm afraid we have to go do something I'd rather not."

"Holmes?"

Holmes met his friend's eye, and with the darkness to protect him he let Watson see how distraught he was. "I think I know where the missing children are," he whispered.

Watson immediately felt something twist in his chest. Holmes would not look so anguished if he thought the children were alive. He reached out, hugging Holmes tightly. He felt his friend hug him back with even more force. Holmes' breathing was uneven and he was shaking. Watson realized he wasn't doing much better.

When they both calmed down, Holmes squeezed his shoulders and they parted, each taking a deep breath and bracing themselves to do what they needed to do. They didn't say anything, because what was there to say? It was all too horrific for words.

As always, Watson faithfully followed where Holmes led, but he had a feeling that he could guess where they were going. As he predicted, they arrived in the children's room where they approached Ferguson, Clarissa, and Lally. These mechanicals weren't large enough to fit a grown man like the original Ferguson and Lally, but a child…

Watson expected Holmes to take charge of the situation like he always did, but Holmes was frozen, unmoving, just staring at the mechanicals as they moved on their own, their metal parts faintly whirring, just barely audible beneath the music they produced. Watson glanced at Holmes, who was still frozen into inaction by the mere thought of what they might see here.

Watson took another deep breath. He was technically the daytime security guard; he should do it. He stepped up to Ferguson, the bear's paws still moving back and forth endlessly. Back and forth, back and forth, playing his little violin. The mechanicals were perfectly harmless and cute around the children, even Watson thought so, but as he stepped up he could have sworn Ferguson became less cute and more menacing.

Surely, though, that was just his own mind projecting his own horror onto the mechanical bear. Surely it couldn't be that Ferguson Fredbear's eyes narrowed at him as he approached. Certainly the bear wasn't opening his mouth, baring his teeth, starting to growl.

It couldn't be, Watson kept thinking that even as he reached out to touch the thing, even as it jumped at him, even as he felt its jaws around his skull, crushing his frontal lobe. Very vaguely, Watson heard Holmes screaming, but he couldn't focus on that. He couldn't focus on anything, really, not even on pain. All was strangely quiet, strangely peaceful, and in the distance he could smell bread baking. He had no way of knowing as he died that he would go down in history as the daytime security guard killed in the infamous "Bite of 1887."

Watson's last thought, last hope, was for Holmes. When the smoke cleared and all was said and done, he hoped Holmes would be okay, would let the agony of this tragedy fade away. Because Holmes? Watson knew he would never let this go. He would hunt whoever the mysterious purple man was, would run him into the ground, and this horror show would end one way or another even if Holmes had to burn the whole place down around him.

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading. I hope you have enjoyed my story.

I tried to fill the story with references to FNAF (example: renaming Bonnie Bunny as Lally Lapin to make him sound more Victorian is a reference to Lally's Lollies in Pizzeria Simulator). How many references did you find in the story? Leave a comment and let me know, I'm very curious :)

You're welcome, Firehawk1170.