"...what do you mean you 'know where he is'?"
Jeremy had been watching blearily from the couch since Michael woke suddenly at the phone's ring. The pair had fallen asleep to some hokey horror movie, that is until his boyfriend shot up like a rocket when the phone rang.
Michael had been so worried for Henry he had been flipping between convinced something bad was going to happen and that he was simply being too paranoid. It even affected his rest; he took a while to get to sleep and when he did, it was restless. Sadly, by how agitated he was, it seemed his fears might have been founded. Jeremy watched anxiously.
"You want to tell me face-to-face? C'mon, Uncle Henry, what the fuck do you mean?!"
"I'm sure I'll believe it. Have you seen what the hell happened to me?!"
"...fine. I'll come as soon as I can. And I'm bringing Cassidy."
He put the phone down and groaned, pressing his hands to his face. Jeremy got up and walked over, "What was that about?"
Michael looked back up at him and explained, "Henry says he found my father."
"Excuse me?!"
He chuckled softly, "Yeah, that was about my reaction. He won't tell me anything but "I want to hear it face-to-face""
Jeremy shook his head, "Wonder what that could mean. He's been gone for a...well, a while so it could mean anything, I reckon. Wonder where the hell he's been all this time."
"You and me both. I'm almost scared to find out," he paused, eyes half-lidded and mouth drawn in a tight line.
Despite his best efforts to appear neutral, Michael radiated irritation and nervousness in spades. Jeremy looped an arm around him wordlessly, letting him speak first. He did, "I wish you could come with...but I cannot put you in that kind of danger."
"I reckon Mr. Afton doesn't like me much."
Michael made a noise of affirmation, "He blamed all of you for what happened to Cassidy."
"...I thought as much."
"It was bizarre...I guess he didn't think his own children could do any wrong," Michael said with a long sigh.
Even years later, the conflicted emotions Michael grappled with was apparent. He had admitted to Jeremy a few times that while he'd be happy to see him, there was also a good chance he'd greet him with a punch in the jaw. Jeremy easily knew of the volatile emotions Michael held towards his father. He was desperate for answers for his condition and a confirmation that his father hadn't abandoned him when he most needed him.
But the anger that lurked under was white hot. In the dark of night, Michael had admitted the fury he held towards his father after processing just who he was. He wanted to scream at the man; why had he done what he done? What even justified that?
Why put other parents through what had broken him?
Jeremy squeezed his arm, "No more of that," he soothed, "Let's be in the here and now."
Michael's eyes steeled and he nodded, "Henry needs me to come soon."
"How soon…? It's early yet," Jeremy ventured.
"...soon, I want to go as soon as possible. I shouldn't have to tell you how my father feels about Henry."
"All of Hurricane must know!" Jeremy pointed out.
"Then you see why I need to head out soon," Michael shot him a wry smile, "I feel like I might have to keep them from each other's throats."
Jeremy nodded slowly, leaning closer until his head rested on his shoulder, "Be safe, Mike."
By the staircase, Cassidy lingered. He had heard the phone ring and curiosity bid him to listen in. He couldn't believe it though.
Someone had found his father in that boarded off room. And worse, they probably put him in the attraction. Michael had been correct to worry about the place and now Henry was in the jaws of the beast! What had he done?!
He edged back up the stairway. Michael was going to come fetch him soon but he couldn't reveal what he had known. But it would come to light and soon. He sulked back up the stairs, a dark pit in his stomach.
Sometime later that day, Henry was startled awake by a banging at the door. Once the initial panic subsided, he realized it was probably Michael. While he was grateful he had come right away, he almost wish he waited, if only for his own sleep cycle. He dragged himself out of bed to answer the door, a very sour looking Michael at the other side. He shouldered past him and sat in the lone, patched armchair in the room, dropping his bag on the floor. He withdrew Cassidy's Fredbear plush and set it beside him.
Henry sighed, wishing there was a better way to go about this. He sat on the bed facing him, "I do appreciate you coming right away, Mike."
Mike nodded then cut to the chase, "You found Dad?"
He nodded slowly, "I did but it's not quite as simple as that."
Michael immediately tensed, "What do you mean?"
"...you remember how Fredbear and Spring were springlock suits?"
"Yeah," his eyebrows furrowed as he recalled, "Dad must have said a million times to me, Cass, n' Lizzie to not touch them because they were dangerous. Spring failed on him once and that's why he has all the scars. What are you getting at?" he was getting antsy.
Henry sighed deeply, closing his eyes as he explained, "Sometime after what happened with you, your father must have gotten into Spring again. She went off and this time, he didn't make it," he opened his eyes to see Michael in shock, "But he evidently didn't stay dead. He's still in there and he's still kicking. Logan, the guy behind Fazbear's Fright, found him in the old Freddy's and brought him in so he could be the star attraction. But for some reason, he didn't take a good look at him. So he has no idea what his Springtrap really is."
"...you can't be serious," Michael leaned forward, gripping the arms of the chair and his eyes flaring purple, "Dad's smarter than that. Why would he put on a suit that's been in storage for around a decade at that point?"
"I'm as serious as a heart attack, Mike."
Michael held his gaze for a moment more than collapsed back into the chair. "Alright, what do we do now? We can't let him roam around."
"I haven't got that far yet," Henry paused to yawn, "And I don't know if making plans right this minute is a good idea. I do want to make sure you have time to talk to him."
"But he's hostile, right?" Michael scowled, "And you're going back tonight."
"Got to keep up the charade," he shot him a smile, "I don't think he'd be hostile to you. I think he's hostile to me because well, I'm me."
"More reason not to go, let me do it," Michael insisted.
"No, son. It's too risky if our charade is found out. I don't want to risk Logan or his cousin recognizing you. That would get...complicated," he frowned, just imagining how everything would come apart then.
Michael scowled back then sighed, "Fine. I get it. But you know as good as me, Dad's always been clever and I have a feeling death hasn't changed that. Don't get caught."
"Not planning on it," Henry shook his head, "I have to do this."
Michael frowned, taking note of his statement but didn't say anything. Instead he diverted the subject, "You said they found him in the old Freddy's?"
Henry nodded and Mike grimaced, "I was right there with him, that entire week. The boss even mentioned banging inside the walls but I thought nothing of it. Fuck!" he slammed one hand against the arm, "I was so close!"
"Michael, you can't beat yourself up over that. It's the past," he yawned again, "Listen, I booked the room next door for you. Just go up to the desk and say you're Mike and you'll get the key."
Getting the hint, Michael stood, "Right, right."
He picked up Cassidy's plush and tucked it under his arm. Curiously, Cassidy hadn't had anything to say about their father. He frowned, putting one and one together. He slung the bag over his shoulder with more force than intended, "Get some rest."
He left to get his key and once inside his room, he set the bag and plush on the bed. He turned away, his arms crossed, quiet as he stewed over what he heard. Then very slowly and very carefully, he said, "Henry said they had found Dad in the back room at the old Freddy's. Where you were. Do you know anything about it?"
Cassidy cringed inside the plush. His tone said it all. He knew he knew exactly what had gone down. He was asking not for information, but for confirmation. But he stayed stubbornly silent, fearful of his brother's reaction.
"Cassidy. You knew."
"...I did," he admitted.
Michael whirled to face him, eyes blazing brilliant purple, "You kept that from me!" he snapped, "You knew I desperately wanted to know what the fuck was wrong with me but you didn't tell me where Dad was!"
"I'm sorr—"
"Do you know how long I thought he went and abandoned me?! Why...how could you?!"
With a sharp snap, Cassidy manifested, teary and wailed, "I didn't want anyone to find him!"
He could tell he surprised his brother by how his hands relaxed for just a moment. He said in a level tone, "Me and Henry would have handled it."
Ink black tears poured down his cheeks as he cried, "I didn't know! I just wanted him to hurt too!"
This time, he really startled him. Michael's eyes widened, his brother's sudden fire lashing out and scaring him frankly. He looked away, his mind struggling to make a response. Finally, he sighed, "I'm going out. I'll be back. Then we will talk."
And with that, he left, eyes glued to the ground. Cassidy couldn't stop him, nor knew what to say to. Instead, he collapsed into himself, hugging his knees to his chest.
Michael hopped into his car and threw it into reverse, driving back out onto the road back into town. He wanted to seethe, to stew in his anger but yet…
"I just wanted him to hurt too!"
He knew Cassidy had the capacity for anger. His years of nightmares were testament to that. But they just hadn't talked about it after the initial apology. Michael had even forgotten his typically meek brother did it at all. So the revelation he harbored so much anger towards their father wasn't irrational but it did throw him for a loop. Not to mention he had actually hurt him. Michael simmered in these thoughts as he drove.
He didn't drive aimlessly, instead driving around until he found the fairgrounds on the other side of town. Amongst like abandoned stalls was Fazbear's Fright, daunting and dominating the landscape like a sleeping beast. If he wanted, he could break in, take things into his own hands. See his father right then and there. Would he be hostile to him? Be happy to see him? How much of the man was left within the machine?
Better yet, how would he himself react to seeing his father in that state? Would he recoil in disgust? Would that lingering anger overwhelm him, despite everything? Could he even muster up any relief at seeing him or was Michael's image of his father just too tainted?
He didn't stop instead continuing to cruise along, alone with his thoughts.
He cruised through town for a while more, simply appreciating the quaintness of it. Hurricane was in a weird limbo between small town and something more. After Fazbear's kicked off, it enjoyed a small boom that quickly crashed after the Missing Children's Incident. His father and Henry had fostered an image of safety so when that was shattered, people left, fearful for their children and themselves. The town was now a shadow of its former self, full of empty buildings from when the mayor had thought they'd grow.
Here though in Price it was small yes but bustling. Everywhere was decorations for Halloween; storefronts draped with fake cobwebs and stick on decorations on the inside of windows. A few shoppers turned to look at the unfamiliar car prowl through but turned away, unbothered by it.
Something had to be done about his father lest this town get caught in his trail of destruction.
He headed back to the hotel after. He stepped inside the room to see his brother had retreated back inside the safe confines of the plushie which he had also turned away from the door. Regret flooded Michael and he looked at the ground, "I'm really sorry Cass, about yelling at you."
For a few moments, his brother didn't respond, making him think he wanted to be alone. He was just starting to turn away when his brother emerged, black tears dried on his cheeks. He murmured, "I'm sorry Mike, for keeping what happened to Dad a secret."
"I think...I think I understand why you did that," Michael murmured as he sat on the edge of the bed, his own fiery anger coming to mind.
Cassidy knew he didn't understand the intensity of his rage but he was content in keeping his brother in the dark about that. He drifted over to sit beside him.
Michael asked quietly, "Could you at least tell me...what happened?"
His brother nodded slowly, "It was dark and Dad showed up at the old pizzeria. He was...really upset, I think. I heard him making a racket, smashing up my frie—the old animatronics. I wondered if maybe I should do something but at the time, I didn't know if I wanted to show myself.
That is, until he ran into the safe room. They had left Fredbear in there along with Spring Bonnie so I saw it all. He started to put Spring on because Charlie and the other spirits were after him. When he smashed up the animatronics, he freed my friends. They were trying to back him into a corner.
So I jumped out and scared him into the corner."
"The corner?" Michael questioned.
Cassidy nodded, "The corner where the roof had caved in. It was starting to rain."
"...oh."
"You can guess what happened then; the rain caused the springlocks to fail. We left him there, hoping he would die. He did, for a little while but my friends didn't move on. Because he woke back up. The new owners came and rebuilt the animatronics, which re-bound them to them. They were even more stuck than before.
They started to lose themselves. That's why they went after night guards. They couldn't process that they already "killed" the Purple Man. They thought since they were still there, he was still alive. And since no one but me went into the room, since it was boarded up, they never figured it out."
Michael frowned, "He really was there, that entire time."
Cassidy was quiet for a moment then said, "I don't know how much of Dad is left in there but its plenty. He's more aware than you'd give you credit for and even though he can't remember, he's still sharp. If Henry was smart, he wouldn't go back in."
"I wish he wouldn't. But, I think it's because he feels he has to do it."
His brother faced him, eyes wide before it clicked, "For Charlie."
Michael nodded, "For Charlie."
He sighed, "I hate it. But I guess that's why he won't budge."
Night came sooner than Springtrap expected but once midnight came around, the system roused him from his slumber. He didn't necessarily have to obey the command but considering there wasn't much to do in the day, he was content to let it lull him to sleep. He stood, easier than the previous night to his delight. He hurt less too as he stretched rusted gears. Perfect. He looked up at the camera and let his jaw drop, leering at the hapless night guard. Then he headed out.
His hated guard was indeed in because right off the bat he was coaxing him around with the voice lure. Frustration mounted and he struggled to resist the system's insistence to find the children. For some reason, it was one of the few demands he couldn't resist. Perhaps because he had made it the suit's prime directive; to find and entertain.
Something inside his rotted skull clicked; he had made this suit. It wasn't just his suit that he was inside it but he quite literally created it. So he had built his own trap. He pondered this as the night guard tugged him to and fro.
Of course, he remembered. He remembered deft but scarred hands screwing in parts, laying fabric and attaching it. Spring Bonnie was her name. She was the realization of his dreams, the vehicle for his wants and desires. It was almost poetic they were together in the end, man and machine.
She would help him wring that night guard's neck. He couldn't pinpoint why but the act seemed like it would be poetic too.
William was being fierce tonight, Henry noted. The other two phantoms had materialized as well. Foxy crouched in the corner sometimes, ready to pounce lest he catch his eye. Freddy limped across the window, which got him once as he had thought Springtrap escaped his attention.
Finally, the systems booted back up and he continued to look.
Frustrated, William was considering a new venue. The large vents that sat on the ground were big enough for him to shimmy inside. It wasn't comfortable by any means but he ignored it. The act of crawling through vents tickled his mind but nothing materialized so he continued, dragging himself inside the cramped space. All this faint deja vu was frustrating. By this point, he thought perhaps he was powered by that same frustration.
Henry swore when he couldn't find Springtrap. He tabbed through the cameras and he was nowhere to be found. Perhaps...he clicked through the as-of-now neglected vent cameras.
There was was, dragging himself through in what looked uncomfortable at best and downright painful at worse. His eyes were wide and slightly glowing, making him look desperate to get to him. Shuddering, he tapped the vent block.
Down the vent, a sheet of metal came down with a final shink! Springtrap practically roared, static interlaid with the sound of scraping metal. The sound rebounded through the vents and into the office, sending a further shudder through Henry.
He was desperate to get to him, Henry realized. Willing to put himself through any pain, any discomfort just to find him and end him.
If Henry wasn't at such a disadvantage, he'd be inclined to agree that the feeling was mutual.
Springtrap's frustration was nearly unbearable as he dragged himself from the vent. He wished he could move how he liked, free of the suit's programming, and tear into that office and kill that night guard. He hated him, he hated him! Since he saw his face, he wanted nothing more but to strangle him.
He wasn't quite sure why but he knew this man was someone he knew once upon a time. His instincts told him that he hated him more than anything and he wasn't going to ignore those. He grumbled, static spitting from his voicebox.
He decided he wanted to know who the night guard was before he wrung his neck and for that he'd have to get another good look at him. He'd have to move faster, change his routines and hide in new places. The spirits were restless too, he could tell by how charged the air was. They tended to leave him alone, for some reason. For that, he was confused but grateful. With determination, he moved on.
It was halfway through the night when William got particularly vicious. Henry didn't know why; maybe him blocking him from the vent pissed him off. He didn't care why, just that he could repel him. It seemed Will was moving faster than his usual shambling pace so that if one of the phantoms scared him, he'd be all the closer.
Not to mention, he had changed his usual haunts. This was calculated on his part. Michael had been correct in his assessment; it didn't matter how much of Will remained within Spring, he was still as smart as he had ever been. So Henry had lost Springtrap.
A burst of movement startled him and his head snapped up, caution of catching sight of the phantom Freddy thrown to the wind. But no, it had sprinted by. How…?
To his horror, a nasty green-gold hand creeped around the door. Springtrap's head followed as he leered at him. Without looking at the tablet, he tabbed a camera back, keeping the ancient animatronic in his sights. But William didn't move to attack. Instead, he stared, almost like he was studying him. Like he was trying to place who he was.
Was that what he was doing? That didn't bode well. He tapped the audio cue which sounded down the hallway. He swallowed thickly, "Alright, Will. Go away now."
The rabbit's head slumped and he shuddered. Henry gritted his teeth. There was no way he could take him down. He cursed himself for not bringing a weapon of some sort. At least he'd go down swinging then.
Springtrap was frustrated. The system was urging him to go find the child, right now, right now, right now. He dug in his feet, determined to resist. He needed to place where he had seen this man. The memory was right in his fingertips. If he could reach just a little further, he could remember.
Go find the child, now, now, now, now, now.
Finally, the system won over and his body started to move. He howled angrily, helpless to stop its trek to the "child". Henry let out a sigh of relief as he watched him go. He just knew William was watching him as he left but at least he was gone.
As the machine moved, Springtrap replayed the man's visage in his head, what he had said.
"Alright, Will. Go away now."
He was Will, he must have been as that was what the night guard called him now and before. Who was Will? He was Will but who was he? Who was he truly, this man inside the machine?
He poured over his memories of the night guard, determined to find a clue, a scrap of just who he was.
"What are you doing here."
He stood at the threshold of an office, some papers in his hand. There was another man in the office, it was that man. He was looking at him with a withering glare. He stood a little higher, "I'm not here to argue, Henry. I'm here to formally relinquish my share of the place," he held his papers out to him.
Henry took them none too gently and scanned them, "I don't want the place."
He gritted his teeth and said with faux patience, "I don't bloody care if you want the place or not. I don't care. Sell it, abandon it, I don't care. Just sign the papers so I can wash my hands of this."
Henry glared at him but turned to set the papers on the desk. He fished a pen from his breast pocket and began to sign, not so much as looking at what they said. He noticed his former partner never quite turned his back on him. Finally, he was handed the papers back and Henry asked, "So the pizzeria is mine now?"
He nodded and Henry grinned viciously, "Good. Go away, you're no longer allowed on the premises, William. I never want to see you again."
"Oh, don't worry," he turned to walk away, "The feeling is mutual."
William came out of the memory like a deep diver, disoriented but relieved. The man's name, his name was definitely William. And the other man who had the night guard's face was named Henry. He rolled the names around in his head and found them to be true. The name had held a familiarity when Henry had called him it the previous night but this confirmed it.
He had hated Henry back then too and the feeling was obviously mutual. What had he done? Well, nothing good but also nothing he felt guilt over. With the memory in mind, he continued the hunt.
Henry didn't get a rest until morning came and William returned to the back of the establishment. He really couldn't do another night of this, he thought as he leaned back with an appreciative sigh. He lifted one hand to his neck to feel his heart hammering away. Between William, the spirits and the faulty equipment he wouldn't have to worry about his old friend killing him because the heart attack would get him first. He gave one more glance to Springtrap's slumped over form before turning off the cameras.
William listened to the quiet building as Henry left, the door clanging behind him and through the attraction. He waited a few more moments before concentrating on moving. It took nothing to get the suit moving despite it being past "quiet hours". He really had to sell it because he could only break the facade once.
Now, as long as he stayed out of the reception area and no one came in, he had unbridled freedom to explore the attraction and see what other memories he could dig up.
Once again, Logan was parked outside with his van, holding a breakfast sandwich for him as he leaned on the back of it. Henry took the sandwich with appreciation. He noticed Logan was positively electric, nearly bouncing on his heels. After he took a bite of his sandwich he asked, "You're begging for me to ask you what you found so what did you find?"
Logan nodded excitedly, flapping his hands as he did, "That lady did have something good! You'll never believe what it was!"
Henry raised an eyebrow so he turned and grabbed the handles for the back of the van, throwing the doors open. He couldn't help the sharp inhale he took.
Curled in on herself, dirty, dingy and with a cracked mask was the Marionette. Automatically, he reached for her, the tips of his fingers stoking her mask. He looked at Logan, his voice cracking, "You really did find her."
Logan nodded, "You're fond of her?" he asked.
"You can certainly say that."
Logan looked back at the Marionette, "Apparently the lady inherited her from her late aunt. Begged me to buy her. Said she'd move around in the night and make a whole racket, like a broken music box."
Henry felt his heart break. "So what do you plan to do with her?"
"Uh, not sure yet. I figured I'd hold onto her just for a little while. Going to go put her in the attraction to store her later on this evening."
"Right," he had to find her before he enacted whatever plan he had. He had a few thoughts brewing in his head about that, ideas he'd have to run by Michael. Who most certainly would have to be convinced.
"Well, I will see you tonight," he bid Logan farewell as he headed out.
Tonight, when he'd end William, one way or another. And bring Charlotte home.
