INFORMATION
Written by: Pinkpony4
Chapter Word Count: 9'160
Published on FanFiction: 17th of August, 2022
Published on AO3: 17th of August, 2022

Chapter 8: Questions, Questions

Michael paced in his room, filled with nerves. He'd checked himself out in the mirror four times in the last hour, trying to look out for anything that would make him stand out too much. He'd picked out the best pair of pants and shirt he could find in his drawer, washed and dried them the night before, ironed them in the morning, and had put them away to be worn after he'd finished his morning routine. But he still felt like it wasn't enough. Even after washing his hair and running a comb through it, it was still slightly too long and he couldn't risk trying to cut it by himself less he make it look even worse.

He needed a second opinion.

"How do I look?" he asked, spinning around playfully in an effort to cheer himself up.

"Ga! He gmmbr mieeee," Geh Ge giggled, attempting to clap his hands and kick his legs from where he watched Michael on his pillow.

He chuckled and bent down, poking his bub's nose, making him squeal. "Is that a 'good' ga he gmmbr mieeee?"

"Uhhaarr!"

Pressing a kiss to Geh Ge's forehead, he stood up and looked himself over again. It felt stupid to be stressing over interviews again, but at least he had a good reason now. Back then, it'd been because of his unfortunate reputation in town, but now the stakes were higher; no one really wanted to hire a man hitting his sixties in less than three years, let alone a single one with a baby.

The reason? They'd be forced to pay him more than they would for a teenager, and they didn't want to do that because the big wigs loved exploiting the young.

He had kept the pants and shoes from the Fazbear's Frights uniform but had gotten rid of the shirt. While the pants were fine, the once-black shoes were scuffed from being worn and he didn't have any shoe polish to make them look new again because he hadn't planned on needing to look put together so soon after hauling himself from a crime scene.

Michael had two hours before his first interview at the gas station and while he knew they weren't looking for someone that looked like they'd just completed their second year of business and economics, first impressions were everything. If he turned up looking like a bum, he wasn't getting far.

Huffing, he turned around and scooped his bub up, spinning on the spot to make Geh Ge laugh. The sound calmed him down somewhat as he made his way to the door. If he was going to get a second opinion, it had to be from someone that wasn't two – no – three-months-old.

(Granted, he didn't know his bub's birthday, but details, details.)

He knocked on Ms. Olivia's door confidently. At this point, having her dragging him around to the little events they threw every so often had made him less suspicious of her. It helped that she held no ill-will towards him despite knowing who he was. He just hoped she never found out who his father was; he didn't want to know how she would react if she found out.

The door opened and Ms. Olivia appeared, a bright smile growing on her face at the sight of him, causing her wrinkles to deepen. "Good morning, Dearie," she greeted, pausing to look him up and down. "My, you're dressed up. What's the occasion?"

"Uh… good morning, Ms. Olivia. I have an interview today, but I've been stressing about my appearance all morning," he greeted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wanted to know what you thought. Is it too much?"

She took a step back, scrutinizing his attire. "What sort of job is it?"

"Customer service. It's for that gas station out of town."

She nodded, eyes landing on his shoes. "Hmmm… I think you should go for a more casual approach. Do you have a different pair of shoes?" she asked, looking up.

"I've only got two," he admitted. He had these used-to-be shiny shoes from work and a pair of shoddy sneakers that really needed to be replaced. They had holes in the soles and while Michael would have gotten new shoes while he was out, his feet were very oddly shaped, making it difficult for him to find anything that didn't create blisters on the back of his heels or squish his toes.

Unfortunately – as if inheriting his looks wasn't bad enough – he had also inherited his father's feet, too.

"Stevie has shoe polish for his uniform. He may let you borrow some if you ask nicely," Ms. Olivia suggested.

As for everyone else, he was getting along better with the sisters since he visited them more often to help them with their projects. His relationship with Steve had also somehow evolved from pleasantly neutral, to some sort of mutual understanding. Maybe Steve somehow knew what sort of relationship he had with Fazbear Entertainment, as Steve was all too happy to complain to Michael about the working conditions. Michael indulging in these conversations and throwing in his own experiences (but keeping certain details out, of course) had made him slightly more relaxed around him.

Ash was still the outlier, but Michael never really had any need to mingle on the first floor so even if they wanted to talk, the chance to ask was slim.

"Are you sure?" he asked. Ms. Olivia knew everyone here better than him so he knew she knew, but he was worried that Steve may think he was only talking to him because he needed something.

"Of course! In fact, let's go down there right now. He'll be heading out for work soon," she said, making her way down the stairs knowing full well that by doing so, Michael was obligated to help her down them, effectively meaning that he didn't have a say in the matter. He didn't mind it, though; forcing his hand so often had turned out to be helping him adjust and blend in.

They stopped in front of Steve's door and Michael knocked, quickly trying to come up with how he was going to ask Steve for the shoe polish. Would he be annoyed, since he was leaving soon and they may be interrupting his routine? Or would he be annoyed because he didn't have much polish left? If that was the case Michael would be–

His train of thoughts came to a crash as Steve opened the door faster than Michael would have wanted. "Sup, Ms. Olivia, Michael," he greeted, nodding at them in turn. "Somethin' break? 'Cause it'll have to wait."

Michael could feel Ms. Olivia's eyes on his back. "No nothing's broken. I wanted to know if I could borrow something."

Steve looked at him, standing a little straighter. "Like what?"

Michael's mouth started moving faster than his thoughts. "Well, I've got an interview today and I've been worrying over my appearance and Ms. Olivia said I should polish my shoes but I don't have any and she said–"

"That I've got some? Sure, help yourself," Steve cut him off, smirking. Before he could say thank you, Steve stood back and waved them in.

Much like the sisters' room, Steve's was just as large and just as stuffed with projects, but they weren't anything like Jamie's and Alex's. Instead, every project was made up of electrical components. It reminded Michael of the old workshop his father had had at their second home. Uncle Henry would often be in there with him, the two bent over schematics and electrical equipment for hours until his mother ordered them back into the house.

"Here," Steve suddenly said, tossing a black tin he had swiped off the table at him. Michael just barely managed to catch it before it hit him in the head. "You can borrow that too," he added, nodding at a discarded rag stained with polish. "Help yourself. I have to get going."

"But what about your room?" Michael sputtered.

Steve threw a backpack that had been hanging by the door and pointed at the door itself. "I did a bit of tweaking. It locks itself from the outside, so don't worry about it when you leave. Just make sure you shut the door behind ya." He turned around, grinning. "Good luck with the interview, Michael," he added, waving as he walked away.

"See? That wasn't so bad," Ms. Olivia said cheerfully. "Do you want me to hold Gregory while you fix them up?" she asked.

Michael thought of her offer, before nodding. "Alright." He gently handed Geh Ge over, his bub looking in between them in confusion. "Don't worry. She's a… friend."

Ms. Olivia looked delighted to hear him say that.

-o0o-

Michael stepped out of the car, looking around and rubbing his hands together as the cold bit into him in seconds. The station was pretty isolated and it was kind of creepy. On one end was the town, but on the other was just a flat road surrounded by nothingness. It felt like he was standing in the void.

Although he could also be uneasy because this was the first time he was more than a room away from Geh Ge.

"Michael, you can't walk in there with him. You'll be turned away before you can even get your name out," Ms. Olivia explained while Michael paced.

"I-I know. I'm just worried. We've never been far apart. What if he gives you trouble, or something happens when I'm away, or–"

She gave him a serious look. "Michael. Breath. If anything happens, Ash is still here. He's great with kids." Seeing him about to argue, she cut him off. "And I know you two haven't made up yet, but I know him. He takes kids very seriously. He does not play games when it comes to their health or safety. So you have nothing to worry about. Now," she started, shooing him downstairs. "go! You'll be late!"

He didn't end up being late; instead, he was ten minutes early. Walking in, he scoped the place out. It was small, but it was stuffed with things. Looking at the shelves made his hands twitch as he remembered the repeated reminders of 'First In, First Out'. A lot of items needed to be pushed to the front and it was really bugging him.

"Mornin'," a man's voice suddenly said. Michael jumped, looking over to the far-right corner of the station where a bored-looking worker stood, leaning on the counter. "Can I help you?"

He swallowed, mouth feeling dry. "I'm here for an interview at nine-thirty with…" he trailed off, looking at the person's badge. "With you."

The man sat up a little. "Oh… oh! Uh," he scrambled to his feet, coughing into the back of his hand nervously. "Sorry, I didn't expect you to be here this early." He turned around to where the bathrooms were. "'EY KRISTIE! CAN YOU RUN THE PLACE WHILE I TALK WITH THE NEW GUY?"

Michael winced at the sheer volume the man had, and by the look on Kristie's face, she felt the same way. "You don't have to scream, I can hear you just fine in there."

"Yes, well, you tend to ignore my calls when it suits you."

Kristie looked at him and glared at – what Michael assumed was – her boss. "Haven't you got something more important to talk about, Sam?"

Sam followed her gaze as though he had forgotten Michael was even there. "Oh, right! Follow me."

He looked the place over as they made their way to the back of the station where a small room doubled as both break and storage. A small table was crammed into the corner with two tiny seats. The rest was made up of shelves stuffed with boxes.

"Here sit down," Sam invited, taking the seat on the left. Michael did as he was told and faced him, feeling his nerves spike. Sam leaned back, not at all bothered by his presence. Perhaps he was trying to make him relax?

"So, what's your name again?"

And so the line of questions began. "Michael… Afton," he swallowed down. He would just have to deal with being called that. "Just think about literally everyone that isn't on Father's side," he thought.

"I see. And how old are you."

"Fifty-six, but I'll be turning fifty-seven in a month."

"Cool. Happy Birthday for when it comes," Sam said with a smile, waving his left hand lazily. "Do you have any hobbies?"

Hobbies? He didn't have any that he practiced anymore. "I like reading and I used to play guitar when I was a kid." Sleep was also an answer, but he didn't think it was the answer the guy was looking for.

"Righto – got any previous experience in customer service?"

Michael did. It hadn't been a very good experience seeing as it was in Hurricane, but it was an… experience nonetheless. "Yes, I have. I used to work at a grocery store in Hurricane. I was there for two years before I quit."

Sam tilted his head, curious. "Why'd you quit?"

"My boss was… he wasn't very nice. He tended to throw things at me and insult the staff."

All Michael had done was help the other staff member in there. She was cleaning up some vomit a kid had left behind in aisle three but their boss wanted her to stock the shelves with chocolate after she was done. Michael had nothing to do since he had finished counting stock and checking that everything was still in date, so he offered to do it for her. She'd been grateful for it since she looked a little sick herself.

He had been on his knees, putting the sweets away and replacing the price tags, when he heard his boss stomping over. He looked up just in time to see the man's bulbous red face nearly pressed up against his.

"What. Do. You. Think. You're. Doing," he growled, spit hitting Michael's face with every word. The man had always reminded him of a Pit Bull, even if that was an insult to the breed itself.

He leaned back, wiping his face with his sleeve. "I'm helping April. I'd finished my work, so I decided to do–"

"Exactly. I asked April to do it. Not. You."

What was wrong with this guy? Sure, he'd always been an asshole, but he'd only gotten worse in the past couple of months. "I was just trying to help. Besides, she'd have to clean herself up, and it'd be dangerous for her to be handling foodstuffs," he tried to explain.

That didn't seem to be good enough because the man suddenly stood up. Lifting his arm, he swept the entire top row of sweets Michael had just put away, off the shelf, making them fall on top of him. He was shocked and briefly stunned, not sure how to react until the box of chocolates was turned upside down and dumped all over him.

"Well, you just made her job worse. I'll have her pick all of this up. You're dismissed for the day," his boss said flatly, before turning on his heel and storming off.

Unbeknownst to his boss, he'd discreetly cleaned everything up and slipped into the bathroom, finding April in the cleaning closet. He apologised, but she only sighed and said it wasn't his fault.

Michael stayed there for another month before he told his boss to "Fuck off!" after being ordered to clean up after the man dropped his lunch on the ground. He'd stormed out of the building without another word.

He wasn't exactly surprised to find out the old coot had died of a heart attack two months after he left. The man had always had a horrid temper.

Sam stared at him. "When was this?"

"Nineteen-ninety."

He relaxed then. "Jesus I thought you meant recently. The guy would be begging for a lawsuit if he did that these days," he laughed. "Well, you've got nothing to worry about here. Only abuse you're gonna get is from the customers."

"I'm used to that, too."

"Good, 'cause you're gonna need a tough skin to get through this," Sam admitted, crossing one leg over the other to rest it on his knee. "Now, I've gotta ask: do you have a criminal record?"

If Michael had ever been caught for his crimes, then yes, he would. But he hadn't. Yet. "No."

"Cool. You got any family? A wife, a husband? Pets? Kids?"

Seeing as he wasn't wearing a wedding ring, that ruled out the first two. But this was a question he had been hoping wouldn't come up. "I have a son."

Sam visibly relaxed. "How old?"

"Three months, now."

He winced. "Oh, really? Damn, that complicates things," he muttered.

Michael looked up, alarmed. "What? Why?"

Sam started nervously fiddling with his fingers. "Well, I know this is against the law, but since you've got a kid, I don't want to give you this job." Seeing the look on Michael's face, he quickly rushed out an explanation; "Look, a LOT of armed robberies happen here, and people have been critically injured before. It happens once or twice every two months, and… knowing that, I don't want to put you in the firing line. If you're single and have no one to take care of him, where's he gonna go, you know? I don't want to take another parent away," he finished.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked slowly, his gut twisting into knots at Sam's words.

He shifted, uncomfortable once again. "The reason this job is up in the first place is because the last person here was a mother of two kids. She was stabbed two months ago and… both her kids were taken into the foster system. I… it was a hard loss, and I feel guilty. It's a 'damned if you do, damned if you don't' sort of thing, you know? If I hadn't given her the job, she'd probably still be alive, but unable to provide for her kids – but because I did… she died."

Michael hadn't expected this interview to go this way. "I understand your guilt. I feel the same nearly every day," he mumbled, pondering the man's words as he thought of Geh Ge. He couldn't imagine leaving his bub without his parents again, even if his neighbours (or at least, Ms. Olivia) would be willing to take care of him in his place. "I think… I agree. I'd be too stressed out over this job if you gave it to me," he admitted. And it was true – he'd be losing sleep and would constantly be sick with worry, just like he had been at Freddy's.

Sam looked up at him, guilty expression evident on his face. "I'm sorry; really, I am. But… I'd be stressed out too." He gave Michael a wobbly smile. "You're not gonna sue me 'cause of this, are you?" he attempted to joke.

It nearly worked. It at least got a huff out of Michael. "I hadn't planned on it." Having a feeling that this was the end of the interview, he stood, holding out his hand. Sam took it. "Thank you for having me. I hope you have a good day."

"And I hope you find someplace safer. I mean… this world isn't safe in general, but you're less likely to die at like… a grocery store or fast food restaurant, you know?"

Michael smirked at the last comment. "I suppose you're right."

"Well, let's hope you get a little luckier. Can only go up from here, right?"

Michael agreed, even though he hadn't hit rock bottom yet.

-o0o-

Michael was greeted by the cries of a baby the second he hit the second floor. Panicked by how shrill they were, he rushed upstairs and knocked on Ms. Olivia's door, worried sick. Was he sick? Was he hurt? Ms. Olivia was rather old, so had she fallen over and hurt herself?

The door opened and out of everyone he expected to open it, Ash was the last. "Oh, hello," Ash greeted calmly. "Ms. Olivia, he's back!"

Ms. Olivia appeared with a very upset baby in her arms. "Thank God. Quick, take him!" she gasped, practically shoving Geh Ge into Michael's arms.

He took him, quickly rearranging his bub and looking him over. He was still wrapped up in his warm jumper, but he wouldn't stop crying. "What happened?" he asked, looking up at the two.

Ms. Olivia was quite distressed. "He woke up around twenty minutes ago. I tried to feed him but then he took one look at me and started crying. Ash heard and ran upstairs to see if we were all right, but it just made him cry even more."

"From what I can tell, there's nothing wrong with him," Ash said, leaning forwards to look at Geh Ge closer, not bothered at all by the sheer volume of Geh Ge's shrieks. "He calmed down when I started waving that rattle you gave Ms. Olivia, so I think he was just distressed at being in an unfamiliar place with someone that… wasn't you. But then he started crying again." Ash met his eyes, taking a step back. "He's very… aware – more than most babies I've had to work with. He's imprinted on you pretty fast, too. It's kind of cute."

"I'm sorry he caused you trouble."

"No, it's alright. It just took me by surprise."

Michael turned his full attention to his bub, shushing him. "It's okay; Daddy's here. Come on, bub; open your eyes for me," he encouraged, watching Geh Ge's crying settle down at the sound of his voice as his eyes slowly opened. "There we go," he praised as Geh Ge's tears slowly stopped and he focused on Michael. As quick as flipping a switch, Geh Ge's face lit up and the redness faded away as a huge smile planted itself on his round face.

"Grrgggh Mmmmmy! Berg bah daaaah," he babbled, reaching for him. Michael returned his smile and lifted him up so his head was resting on his shoulder. Gently, he bounced him, lightly tapping his back.

"Hello to you too. I'm told you were causing a fuss," he said gently, Geh Ge mumbling something as he slumped in his arms, drooling on his shoulder. He looked back up as Ash handed over the bag Michael had given Ms. Olivia for the morning. "Thank you. Really."

Ash just shrugged, still not looking at him fully, but Ms. Olivia returned his smile in full. "We were happy to help! Isn't that right, Ash?" she added, looking at him.

"Yeah, uh…" he trailed off, glancing at Geh Ge. "Since he was crying so much, he's going to be pretty tired for the rest of the day, so if he's asleep longer than usual, don't worry. Just make sure you're in sight when he wakes up or he's going to freak out again."

He turned to Ms. Olivia, nodding at her and then back at Michael. "Well, my work here's done. I'll see you two later. Maybe," he added before squeezing past Michael and rushing back down the stairs.

"…Well, it's progress. He didn't run off at the sight of you," Ms. Olivia joked. Meeting his gaze, she tilted her head to the side. "How did the interview go?"

Michael shook his head. "I didn't get it," he said simply, not wanting to dive into the details.

She sighed. "I suppose it's for the best then. When's the next interview?"

"Day after tomorrow. I'm just hoping it goes a little better."

"What's the job?"

"It's a day-shift position at the laundromat twenty minutes away. By the sounds of it, I'll just have to stand guard all day and make sure nothing gets stolen or tampered with. At least I've got a lot of experience in that."

"I'm sure you will do well. The only thing we have to worry about is little Gregory here," she said, poking Geh Ge's cheek gently. He cooed, quickly looking at her in surprise. "If you get that job, what are we going to do about him? If being away from you for two hours is enough to make him lose it, how is he going to deal with an entire day?"

She had a point there. He sighed. "I'm not sure."

Ms. Olivia pat his shoulder. "Cheer up! I'm sure the answer will come in time."

He hoped so too.

They talked for a little while longer – mostly about her morning and what she had been reading in the newspapers for the past couple of days – before they parted ways and returned to their rooms.

Michael slipped his shoes and socks off, swaying from side to side slowly as his bub started to nod off. Putting his bag down, he made his way into the bathroom and took a face wash from the rack and dampened it a bit to clean his bub's face.

Geh Ge hummed in confusion, squeezing his eyes closed as the wash was gently rubbed against his cheeks and forehead. Once Michael was done, Geh Ge looked a lot better. His face wasn't red anymore, and his eyes were bright and alert.

His bub tilted his head up to look at him, mouth open and wide-eyed – like there was something different about him. Michael looked in the mirror, but he didn't look different.

"What are you looking at?" he asked. Geh Ge tilted his head and raised his hand, making a grabbing motion. Not sure what he was asking for, Michael leaned a little closer, just so his bub could grab his nose. He snorted, making Geh Ge giggle as the gust of wind tickled him.

He went back and sat himself down on the mattress, and managed to convince his bub to have the bottle he'd refused from Ms. Olivia. His bub happily took it, relaxing and slumping over. Michael put the empty bottle down, letting Geh Ge play with his fingers now. Despite that, his bub kept looking up at him, to his fingers, and then towards the door. Was he expecting someone?

"I'm sorry, bub; but I don't think there'll be any more visitors today. Nearly everyone's out," he said gently. At the sound of his voice, Geh Ge looked back at him and then raised his free arm to try and point at something beside them. Michael looked, but there was nothing there.

He was going to ignore it and just keep playing with him, but Geh Ge insisted that he divert his attention to the empty spot beside him.

Unnerved, he reached out a hand and waved it around. While he didn't feel a difference in temperature, it felt like his hand was wrapped in something light – like candyfloss. He quickly moved his hand away, a shiver running down his spine.

He was no fool: he knew all about the stories of kids being able to see the dead. The question was: who was Geh Ge seeing? Apparently Michael had done the same thing too, scaring his parents when he'd do or say things dead relatives had once done. Saying creepy things to his father like: "Do you remember me being your daddy?" or grabbing his mother's face, looking her right in the eyes when he was four, and saying: "You are my world.".

Hopefully whatever was there had no ill-will. Michael wasn't exactly sure what he'd do if it had bad intentions, but he'd do something. Maybe get an exorcist? Granted, Michael knew that the paranormal (at least in his experience) didn't like being disturbed or told to go away. It had been like that for a long time when ghost hunters and paranormal 'experts' would go into the Pizzeria's late at night, only to run out screaming ten minutes later because one of the children had decided to either wake up and chase them out, or said something threatening enough to get them to never come back.

Out of curiosity, he watched Geh Ge focus on what– who was beside him. His bub tilted his head to the side, lifting one hand up to sick his fingers in his mouth, and the other trying to imitate a wave. He giggled, kicking his legs, all the while Michael looked between the two.

Nothing appeared.

Just like that, Geh Ge's expression changed. His smile fell and his brows furrowed in confusion. He pointed at the spot, looking up at Michael. "Heh?"

Indulging him, Michael looked over, then back. "Sorry bub, but I don't see anything. Did they leave?" he asked gently. Geh Ge pulled his hand out of his mouth and grabbed Michael's pinkie, kicking his legs in frustration. "Hey, hey," he shushed, gently rocking him. "It's okay. Maybe they'll come back."

(He hoped it didn't though. He didn't like the idea of something watching them in their sleep – alive or not.)

He got up and retrieved The Rattle, catching his bub's attention the second he heard the click of plastic on plastic. Seemingly forgetting about their uninvited guest, Geh Ge was all too happy to play with it. He did his best to hold onto the stick, but his hands were too small and too weak. Even so, he didn't seem bothered.

With Geh Ge distracted, Michael took a deep breath and allowed himself to relax. He turned the radio and heater back on, made up a small lunch, and sat back down on the mattress, making sure not to spill anything on his shirt.

The two were perfectly content as they were; Michael munching on his sandwich and guzzling down some cool water, and Geh Ge was completely entranced with The Rattle. It felt nice.

Their days were often like this now. While it wouldn't be once he got his job, he'd treasure it while he could. He'd also learn what he could as well.

He reached over to the top of the mattress where his phone and the (new) parenting guidebook sat. Flicking it open, he started to read from where he'd last left off.

Transitioning from Feeding to Food

-o0o-

"Give him back!"

He dangled Fredbear over Evan's head, his little brother too short to reach, even when he jumped. "Why?"

"He's my friend! Please don't hurt him," Evan pleaded, giving him his best set of puppy dog eyes. Elizabeth used to have a good pair of puppy dog eyes too, which was why she was always able to get what she wanted out of them. But she was gone now. Father sometimes caved, but Michael was immune to them now.

"Come on, your toys aren't alive. Besides, if they were, one's already dead," he said cruelly. Seeing the shocked look on Evan's face, he nodded towards the closet at the back of his bedroom. "Check your closet. You'll see."

Evan stared at him for a moment before slowly backing towards his closet door and peeking in. There was Foxy. Without his head.

Evan burst into tears and Michael dropped Fredbear. The toy hit the ground far too hard, confirming his belief; there was definitely something in there.

Before he could say anything, Evan ran out of the room to grab Father, and Father had given him a brutal scolding, hitting him on the legs with the wooden spoon four times before locking him in his room. Despite the stinging red marks on his thighs that burned as he plucked out the splinters, it was worth it.

There may have been nothing inside Foxy, but there was definitely something inside Fredbear.

He was going to find out what was in that damn toy.

Michael sat up suddenly, his heart hammering. He looked around despite the darkness, straining his ears for the tiniest sound. He could hear Geh Ge's soft breathing and his own frantic heartbeat, but nothing else. No footsteps, no voices. He couldn't even see the glowing red eyes of The Nightmare.

He slowly laid back down, rolling over and reaching out to place his hand over his bub. Hearing his little heart beating under his hand reassured him that he wasn't trapped in his own head.

At least for tonight.

He drifted back into a restless sleep. In the dark, he didn't notice that the Fredbear plush had fallen from the dresser.

-o0o-

As much as it pained him to think about it, Michael wasn't going to be by Geh Ge's side twenty-four-seven, even if he wanted to be. No one could be in their child's life every hour for every day, but they had to know that their parents were there.

Which was why he was sitting on Ms. Olivia's couch. Tomorrow was his second interview, and Geh Ge needed to be ready for Michael to disappear and reappear at different times, especially if he got a job.

Michael sighed, kissing his bub's forehead. When he'd first trusted his bub to Ms. Olivia, he'd thought everything would be fine since he had given Geh Ge to Jeremy before and he had been fine, but yesterday had proven him dead wrong. His bub wasn't ready to wake up without him around, and when Michael thought about it, he understood why.

Before he had gone to bed last night, his curiosity had caught him and he looked for the story about Oliver Isaac. While there were no photos of the baby at all, the story was so similar to Gregory's that it couldn't be a coincidence. It was even down to the exact date, time, and town he had found his bub in. Gregory used to be Oliver and his previous parents had ditched him while he had been asleep. No matter how young he was, he'd have to have remembered and understood what had happened, at least on some sort of subconscious level. Maybe not when he was older, but he certainly did now.

"Alright, where do we begin?" Ms. Olivia started as she sat down slowly. She leaned her cane against her leg and pondered the baby in his arms.

"Maybe we can start with you holding him?" he suggested, holding Geh Ge out. Geh Ge looked at him in alarm, and immediately started to wiggle as Ms. Olivia took him, but he rushed to reassure him just like he had when Jeremy had first held him.

"Shhh, it's okay. Daddy's here, see? Right here," he whispered, brushing his hand against his bub's cheek. Geh Ge slowly calmed down, focussing solely on him as he was handed over. With Michael's hand on Geh Ge's head, he slowly turned to look at Ms. Olivia, who gave him a pleasant smile.

"Hello, Gregory," she said sweetly. "Do you recognise me?"

Geh Ge looked back at Michael, clearly worried about what they had planned. He slowly raised his hand away, glancing at Ms. Olivia. She nodded and he leaned back. He set a timer on his phone.

Ms. Olivia tried to keep Geh Ge's gaze on her, but he kept looking around, getting progressively more upset. After ten minutes, he started to whine and wriggle, making her hand him over to Michael quickly. Shushing him, he stopped the timer, rocking his bub back and forth. He calmed down instantly.

"Well, we can't expect the results to be instant," Ms. Olivia said sadly. "I know my little girl always got loud when she was handed to my sister, but she never cried like this." She frowned, wrinkles deepening. "Do you have an idea why he may be like this?"

Michael stilled, keeping his head down. He certainly wasn't going to tell her the truth… but he could come up with a story semi-similar without giving too much away. "The… system I got him from said he was a dumpster baby. Maybe he's scared of being abandoned? I don't know; I didn't think it was possible for babies to remember stuff like this."

She leaned back, putting her hands together, her frown deepening. "We do. Not when we grow up, but scars can remain. Hopefully, if we're gentle, he can handle being without you for at least a few hours." She gave them both a gentle smile. "This will be a slow and delicate process, but we have all of the time in the world. As long as we're patient, he should be right as rain by the end of the month."

"This month? Are you sure?" That seemed so soon. He didn't want to stress his bub out.

Ms. Olivia nodded. "It is, but it will be better in the long run if we fix this early. That way, he can be with whoever you trust to take care of him without him panicking. It's all about trust."

-o0o-

The rest of their day was spent like that. Geh Ge would play with both of them and allow himself to be held by Ms. Olivia as long as Michael was nearby. If he started to get upset, he would be given back, and Michael would settle him down. After a few tries, Geh Ge managed to get used to being in Ms. Olivia's hold for more than ten minutes, even managing to stay still when Michael took a few steps back. The one thing he didn't dare try was leaving his bub's sight.

Halfway through, they decided to call it quits. Geh Ge was slowly starting to get annoyed at being moved this way and that and was making it clear through his irritated growls and vicious glares. Ms. Olivia chuckled as Michael swept him into his arms and kissed his cheek, praising him for doing such a good job.

"I think that went well. He still has a long way to go, but any progress is good progress!"

Michael nodded, smiling at her. "Thank you for helping me today. Are you sure you can handle him tomorrow?" he asked. Jamie, Alex, and Ash would all be in the building in case something went wrong, but he still wasn't sure.

Ms. Olivia shook her head. "Don't worry, I'll be alright. Now that I know what I'm in for, I'll be prepared for you, munchkin," she added, raising a hand up to pat his bub's head. Geh Ge glared at her, growling. "Hey! No growling," she scolded. "He'll be nicer in the morning, I'm sure. Just get him to bed early and he'll forget all about today."

Nodding, Michael stood up and began to leave when he stopped himself. "I should probably pay you for–"

"DON'T even finish that thought!" Ms. Olivia barked, voice sharper than he'd ever heard it. "I don't want a single cent out of you. I get by on my pension well enough. You need that money far more than I do. Now, off you go!" she huffed, shooing him out.

"I'm sorry for offending you," he muttered, feeling embarrassed. "I'm not used to strangers doing things for free."

"Apology accepted," she said plainly, gripping her cane. "It's no surprise – in this day and age, we expect compensation for our work. It's only natural. But when you get to my age, money is the least of your worries."

He turned around once he reached his door. "Thank you."

"It's no problem. Now, hurry up before Gregory gets huffier. He looks like he's about to blow a fuse!" With that, she shut her door.

Michael looked at his baby and was startled at seeing how red his face was. With his quivering lip, watery eyes, and growing whimpers, he was ready to start screaming. Rushing inside, he quickly coddled his bub, running a hand over his head while he wet the face wash again. When his breathing started to even out, he wiped the tears away gently, sighing.

"You've really been through a lot, haven't you bub?" he whispered sadly, kissing his crown. Geh Ge's speech became slurred as he rested his head lazily against his shoulder. Before he could even set him down, Geh Ge was already sound asleep.

After tucking him in, Michael started doing housework. He picked up the laundry basket and took out the trash, throwing one in the wash and the other in the bin before returning. Then we washed the dishes and let them dry, grabbed the vacuum from the cleaning closet on their floor, set it to its lowest setting, and started cleaning the floor.

He did the kitchen first, then the bathroom, and then the rest of the room. It was only as he approached the dresser that he noticed that something was off.

On the ground was Evan's plush toy, which was odd because Michael should have noticed it when he got dressed today, right? Turning the vacuum off, he leaned down and picked the old toy up, thinking about last night. It wasn't the wind that had done this because there wasn't any at all – the window had been shut last night and even if it hadn't been, there wouldn't be enough to knock the toy down.

It was in desperate need of repair. Some of the fabric had started to wear down, and the toy's left arm was tearing at the shoulder. The eyes would need to be replaced as well, as the metal holding them inside had rusted through, creating red rings that stained the fabric.

He looked over his shoulder. While Geh Ge was still asleep, it felt like something was watching him. Similar to yesterday, his hands felt like they were wrapped in candyfloss. Deciding that whoever it was had no way of harming him (or maybe didn't intend to), he called out the only name he could think of.

"Evan?"

There was no response. No movement, no rush of wind or opening cabinets, no eerie whispers or groans. Nothing. Embarrassed, he put the bear back up on the dresser, but the feeling didn't go away. He sighed.

"I don't know who you are, but you better not be here to cause trouble. I won't stand for it if you do," he said as plainly as he could, even if the threat was clear. Whatever it was still didn't respond, so he pushed it to the back of his mind and continued to work.

-o0o-

"Alright! Now, Gregory, Daddy is going to be gone for a while, okay? So be good for Ms. Olivia," Michael said gently, kissing his bub's forehead before handing him over to her.

Ms. Olivia smiled, taking him just as gently. "I hope we can be better friends today, munchkin."

"Eeeh?" was all Geh Ge said, looking back at Michael.

He stepped back, poking his nose before he made to leave. "Don't worry, bub. I'll be back before you know it!" He looked back at Ms. Olivia. "Thank you."

"It's no problem, Dearie. Good luck," she wished, waving goodbye. She gently took Geh Ge's arm and waved it, "Say bye!"

He looked at her incredulously. "Brreei?"

Michael grinned as he waved back, only stopping once Ms. Olivia went back to her room, attempting to distract Geh Ge from Michael's absence.

Jamie and Alex were already up, their music making vibrations run up his legs, Steve had already left for work, and Ash was in his room. He rolled his shoulders as he entered the car park, shivering as a cold wind struck him. It was so cold that he had a feeling that spring wasn't going to be arriving on schedule.

While the laundromat wasn't very far, it was the traffic he'd have to worry about. Walking would be a better alternative, but that meant he'd be on foot for twenty minutes. When he thought about it a little more, though, it was probably quicker. Sighing, he memorised the location on his phone and headed off.

-o0o-

It was a very pleasant walk. Sure, there were a lot of people on the street, and the never-ending honking of cars and shouts of angry drivers wasn't very kind to his ears, but it was definitely faster than driving.

He arrived fifteen minutes early so he could scope the place out, and he was surprised. The laundromat sat on the corner of a busy street and was very large, but well kept. The walls were cream-coloured, and the signs and accents around the doors and windows were a pleasant aqua. It was rather peaceful-looking compared to the rest of the street.

The door creaked and a beep signalled his arrival. He looked around, almost in awe because he'd never seen so many washing machines and dryers in one place before. Dryers lined the right-hand side of the room while the washing machines lined the back. On the left was a long row of tables with plastic mats on top to help people fold their clothes, and tucked into the far-left corner in its own little nook was what he assumed to be the security desk. A computer sat on top and a set of lockers were behind it, no doubt containing some lost property.

Sitting in the wheelie chair was a woman reading a magazine. She looked up as he approached. "Hello," she greeted, looking him over.

"Hi. I'm Michael. I'm here for an interview at eleven forty-five with," he paused and read her name tag. "You."

Her eyes widened in realisation. "Oh, right. I didn't expect you to be here already. Well, since there's no one around, how 'bout we just jump right into it?"

Michael looked around, deciding to just stand awkwardly in front of the desk since there were no chairs aside from the ones nailed to the ground in front of the window. She held out her hand and he shook it. "I'm Daniela Petal. It's nice to meet you…?"

"Michael Afton."

Daniela smiled, but he didn't miss the way her eyes widened slightly. "Right, let's get down to business. What made you want this job?"

No icebreakers? Well, here he goes... "I've been a night guard for a long time, so I'm used to the long hours of staring at screens and keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. It would be a better idea for me to take a job like this then to start on something unfamiliar."

"Alright then. Where did you work beforehand?"

"I've worked at nearly every Freddy's location in Utah until they shut everything down. I was considering working at the horror attraction they opened up at the amusement park, but it burned down before I got there," he lied.

She raised her brows. "Damn, that's a lot of experience. So a day shift would be a nice change, right?"

"It would be."

"Well, hopefully we can go back to our proper hours if my boss approves," she said. "That's all I need to hear."

Michael froze, trying to work out if this was some sort of sick joke, or if she was being serious. "But don't you have more questions for me?"

Daniela shrugged. "Do you have a criminal record?"

"No."

"Then we're good. I'm not passing up an opportunity like this. All those teens are gonna think twice about stealing people's stuff once they see you."

What was that supposed to mean?

"Pardon?"

"Uh, well," she laughed, realising what she'd just said. "Sorry, but you're a little scary looking. You're tall and you've got all of those scars – kids don't mess around with adults that look like you." Daniela turned to her computer, typing something up. "Hold on a sec, I'm just emailing my boss."

He stood there awkwardly, deciding to look out of the window as something to do. The window had crystallized over, making the world outside look blurry.

The both of them jumped when her phone started to buzz. "It's him. Alright, I'm just going to shoot to the bathroom. Be back in a sec!" she called, rushing over to a door at the back where he guessed the toilets were.

He sat down on one of the seats by the window, looking around. Every now and then, he could hear her voice bouncing off the bathroom walls.

"Yep… eyes… I know… next week? Can do. Looks fine… identical… you said… experience… think? Yeah… alright, I'll call you later," her voice became clearer as she started leaving the bathroom. He quickly averted his gaze to one of the washing machines at the other end of the room, which was filled with colourful clothes.

"Alright, he said he wants you in as soon as next week, if that's okay," she told him, putting her phone back in her bag.

"That's alright with me. What time do I start?" he asked, not being able to contain the mixture of excitement and nerves that ran through him. Had he really gotten the job?

"Well, since you're taking the day shifts, I can finally get enough sleep to run the night shifts. The hours will be from six-thirty to five-thirty for you, and six-till-six for me. Think you can handle that?"

He hesitated. It was too late to decline the job but… six am until five pm? How was he going to fit some time in for Gregory? "I think I can, but…"

"But…?"

He had to ask; if he didn't, it was going to bite him in the ass later. "I… it's just that I have a son. Would it be alright if I could bring him in sometimes?" he asked, hoping his request wouldn't get him kicked out. She stared at him.

"You have a child?"

Why did she sound so shocked? "Yes. He'll behave himself – he's only three months old – and I'll keep him close so you won't have to worry about him breaking or crawling into anything."

"S-sure. As long as you keep an eye on him," Daniela stuttered out, sounding breathless. "I'll have to tell my boss. I should have asked about that sort of thing beforehand. Hah, sorry." She shook her head. "Don't worry, this won't get you fired or anything. But I'll call him later. Here, let me show you around," she suggested.

Michael followed her around, listening closely to what she was talking about, but he wouldn't deny how nervous he felt. He wondered if he had done the right thing, but it was too late to go back now.

-o0o-

It was one pm by the time he got back home and he was exhausted, more emotionally rather than physically.

It wasn't hard to catch on and memorise what his job was. It was literally just having him sit in the corner to watch the place, checking the cameras to catch if people were stealing, walk through the place when it was quiet so he could check that all of the machines were empty, and if he saw anything, he was to put it away in the locker, keeping the keys on his person during his shift. If someone walked in and claimed they had lost something, he was to get a detailed description of what they'd lost just to make sure they weren't trying to steal anything. When his shift was done, he was to wait until she arrived, hand her the keys, then leave.

There was no uniform, but he had to stick to their dress code of pants, long-sleeved shirts, and polished shoes.

"I'll be there to say hello on Monday and to give you your name tag. Don't be late," Daniela warned him.

"Ms. Olivia, I'm back," he called out. He could hear her feet shuffling behind the door before it opened. She held a finger up to her lips, shushing him.

"Gregory's asleep," she told him, making sure he swore to keep quiet before she let him in.

"Good afternoon, Dearie," she whispered. "Gregory was a little rowdy after you left, but he fell asleep an hour ago," she explained as he looked over the couch and found his bub tucked on top of some pillows. Seeing his little bub so peaceful helped him relax.

He sat down, taking his bub into his arms as Ms. Olivia joined him. "So, don't keep me in suspense! How'd the interview go?"

Michael smiled. "I got the job."

Ms. Olivia clapped her hands together quietly, beaming at him. "Oh, that's wonderful! When do you start?"

"Next week."

Her smile faulted. "You don't look too happy. What's wrong?"

"I'm just tired is all. I guess it's the rush of relief that's hit me," he admitted, leaning against the couch.

She nodded in understanding. "At least you'll have some time to pull yourself together. Rest here for a bit. Are you thirsty?" she asked.

He blinked, not realising how dry his mouth was. "Yeah, but that's okay."

"Nonsense. Do you like tea or coffee?"

Michael resigned himself to her kindness. "Coffee. I'll need it if I'm going to stay up for the rest of the day." He looked over to the kitchen, watching her slowly pull things out. "Do you want any help?"

"No, Dearie. You rest."

He closed his eyes, sighing. "Thank you."

-o0o-

It was quiet in his old home. The wind made the house creak, and the thin, wooden walls weren't able to keep the bitter cold out, but he managed. He hobbled away from the old telephone by the door, leaning heavily on his cane. His skin was wrinkled and both his beard and hair had turned completely white and were far too long. His vision was poor, to a point that he needed glasses with lenses that were far too thick, but he couldn't afford them, so he moved slowly with cheap ones from the pharmacy, half blind. People would pass by and help him cross the road, thinking him to be in his nineties, but he wasn't.

No one would believe him if he told them he was seventy-seven.

He slowly sat down on the old, flower-printed couch that was a putrid, vomit-yellow colour. It creaked under his weight, even though he was only a hundred pounds. He was no longer as strong and spritely as he used to be – he hadn't been for some time.

Thirty-five years in prison tended to do that.

He raised his head, looking at the array of photos that sat on the mantle atop the lit fireplace, the light only deepening his wrinkles. Stress, prison, and a crippling lack of self-care had caused him to deteriorate until the point that the only thing keeping him alive was determination and a thirst for revenge that wouldn't allow him to die until it was quenched.

Through the flickering light, two photos stood out. The first was of the used-to-be family of five standing next to his own, but the photo was torn so that the tallest was missing. The second was of two children sitting together in the playground. The little girl sitting on the swings was only four, and the little boy pushing her was twelve…

The old man sighed. "It will be good to see you again, Michael."

TO BE CONTINUED…