Parting Gift

"Fred," whispered Goldie. "How… how can you be here? You're dead."

"I imagine you have likely expressed some sort of dumbfounded shock at hearin' the words of a dead man. Well, I'm afraid that's all they are: words. This is just a little somethin' I had made, on the off-chance that you might find this place."

Goldie chastised herself for a moment for allowing herself to be so led on by a recording, then focused on his words again.

"It has been some time since I last heard your voice. Heard anyone's voice, really, other than old Handy here."

The mechanical voice that sounded before came up again. "Indeed, Fred! I am always here to provide whatever assistance you may require. Is there something I can assist you with today?"

"No, thank you, Handy. You'll forgive him, he's a little keen. One of my earliest virtual interface units I designed. He's limited, but even so, very helpful." He stopped as a violent bout of coughing started.

"Severe signs of asphyxiation and internal haemorrhaging detected. A reminder that if left untreated, these symptoms may lead to your inevitable demise within-"

"Yes, thank you Handy, I am well aware. Would you mind shuttin' down for a moment, please?"

"You are welcome, Fred! Entering sleep mode."

"As I said, very keen." He chuckled weakly. "Well, suppose I'd better get on with it." Silence fell again. "It's funny. I had so many things I wanted to say, yet in this moment, none of them come to mind. I suppose the first thing I'd like to say… is that I'm sorry. I had never intended for things turn out in the way they did. The same could be said for a lot of things in my life, but in particular in regards to you and your students. If I had acted sooner against Sid's ambitions, perhaps… ah well. No sense in pondering what might have been."

Another coughing fit interrupted him. Fortunately, Handy didn't.

"I hope that, whatever has happened or whatever state you are in, you are happy and well. If despite my efforts, Sid has managed to discover what I tried to conceal from him, once again I'm sorry. I did all that I could. I never wanted this for you, for any of you. To have to hide who you truly are. I can only hope that, one day, that might change. It's just a shame that I…" He coughed again. "I may not be there to see it.

"Well," he continued after a moment, "I suppose that's it. Oh, but there is one more thing. It's a little somethin' I left for you. I had meant for it to be a surprise, later down the line. Once again, unforeseen circumstances prevented you from seeing it. But now that you're here, it's rightfully yours. In a recurring theme, I once again offer my apologies for how long it took. I certainly hope it is to your likin'. I believe you've been deprived of being able to walk with your students long enough. Well, I suppose that's it then. Take care, Goldie."

If Goldie had any kind of heart, it would be pounding out of her non-existent chest. Instead, her mind was racing, all possibilities arriving only at one conclusion: a synthetic body. Her very own synthetic body! It wasn't just some ploy of the Puppet's, it was real!

She detected an increase in lighting somewhere to her left. Mike was already turning her. A tube for developing synthetics had been highlighted. She brought it into focus, was rendered utterly speechless when she saw…

Nothing. It was empty.

The silence seemed to endure for an eternity. Goldie double checked to make sure the animatronic visual sensors were still working properly. They were. She played back the moment again and again. It didn't change.

"Am I missin' somethin'?" asked Hermana.

"Maybe… maybe it's hidden?" suggested Mike. "Let's try and get a closer look."

Goldie said nothing. They opened the door into the chamber and stepped up to the tube. Still nothing. Not even the faintest trace that there used to be something in it.

Her mind started running through the potential scenarios. Something had gone wrong before it was completed and after Fred died. No, that didn't add up, he wouldn't have said anything otherwise. It was hidden, like Mike suggested. But why would he conceal it, if it was already in a place that served that same function? But then if Sid had found this place in the end and this was where he made the new synths…

"Reverse engineered," she murmured. "That's what you said, Lidiya. Reverse engineered the technology to create his own synths. Assuming there were no other synthetics in production, that could only mean that…"

"I'm… I'm sorry." Her voice came from somewhere at the back of the group. "I don't know much of the details. They said something about using the technology that was already here but… I'm sorry, I really don't know."

"Mike? Can you turn me around to face her?" she asked after a moment. He didn't move. "Mike, let me see her."

"Goldie, whatever you're thinking of doing or saying, please just-"

"Michael Schmidt, I'm only going to repeat myself one more time: turn me around. Now."

She could see his face wince in the reflective surface of the tube. Part of her realised that she might be behaving in an irrational manner, but she didn't care. Mike complied and turned her around. Lidiya's face was the picture of anxious anticipation. Hands wringing. A bead of sweat trickling down her side. Heartrate elevated.

"You don't know. That seems to be very much your turn of phrase, isn't it? You didn't know about the children. You didn't know what your boss had done to them. You didn't know about what he did to create his own synths. But I wonder, Lidiya Holland, how much of that is genuine ignorance and how much of it is wilful? How much did you suspect, but chose to ignore? Did you, even for a moment, consider the possibility that those suspicions could be correct? Or was it just easier to not think about it, easier to think of us as 'just machines'? Please, do tell me Lidiya because I'm very, very curious to know."

"I-I-I… I don't know, I didn't-"

"There it is again. You don't know. It's a really good one, isn't it? Say it and that absolves you of everything. But look at them, Lidiya. Really look at them." If she had arm to gesture, it would be at Sid's synths. "You've spent a fair bit of time with us now. Seen things from our side of the pond. Are they still 'just machines'? 'Technology'. 'Synths'. That's all you think of us, really? Or does it just make it easier to look past all of the pain you've helped to cause, the suffering you've helped to perpetuate? Or is that what you told yourself so you could go to sleep every night and wake up every morning, feeling just so grateful at this wonderful opportunity for yourself?"

"I'm sorr-"

"No! No, you don't get to say that, you don't get to be sorry! That body was mine! For a moment, just for a moment, I really thought that…" She detected a tremor in her voice and quelled it for a moment. "But no. Once again, my chance was taken. That body could have had what we needed to turn this around, could have finally given me the chance to experience sensations that I've been denied for over thirty years and all so your boss could complete his one-man vendetta against my creator who just wanted to entertain children! I don't care how much you try to absolve responsibility for your part in this! You are culpable in his crimes, Lidiya Holland and I will never let you forget that for an instant! No wonder Mike hates you for what you did! You're just as bad as Sid!"

She was on the verge of tears. Goldie would be lying if she said she didn't gain some small satisfaction from the sight. She turned and ran back towards the elevator. Goldie's audio sensors detected the sounds of a ladder being used.

Her head was moved and Mike's face filled her vision. His angry, pained expression woke her up from the haze that had consumed her thoughts.

"That was too much," he said. "You're allowed to be angry. That's fine. But don't bring me into it. That's not okay." He set her down on a nearby table. "I'm going to go after her."

He was gone before she could formulate a good response. The atmosphere that had descended after her outburst was far from pleasant. She went through a hundred possible things to try and improve it, but none of them seemed to be good enough.

A flash of purple crossed her vision, moving towards the elevator.

"Bonnie, wait-"

"No, I'm not dealing with this right now."

She left without another word. Hermana followed behind, looking briefly back at Goldie before she did.

"Yeah, I think I need a minute upstairs. The couch in the living room looked pretty comfy," said Clyde. "You guys coming?"

"I think I'll take you up on that," said Jeremy. "Want me to bring you up, Goldie?"

"Not currently, Jeremy. I'm not in the mood."

"Suit yourself. Ted?"

"Thank you, but I shall remain down here," said Theodore. "I'm rather curious to see what this place holds."

The two of them left. The quiet that followed was broken by an awkward laugh from Theodore.

"Well, I suppose it's just you and me then. Yes, rather."

"Don't pat my head."

"Sorry," he squeaked, his hand quickly retracting.

Mike hadn't spoken to Lidiya at all on the way over. She was quiet the whole journey, only focusing on driving. It had been many years, but Mike could still recall that if Lidiya ever went quiet in the wake of something big, the best thing to do was leave her to it. So he had and had voicelessly signalled to Jeremy to do the same.

She'd seemed to be doing a little better when they arrived. Perhaps she hoped that, by providing them with some kind of sanctuary or potential way to fight back, it might win them over to her. Mike couldn't deny that he was grateful they had somewhere to stay that wasn't in the truck. Even if it was on a couch, he was happy to potentially have somewhere to sleep after all that had happened.

But then Goldie had lost her temper. In a way, Mike understood why. A synthetic body was something she'd longed for. But that wasn't an excuse to take out her frustrations on Lidiya. It reminded him of when she'd still been consumed by her bitterness, when they'd first met. He'd forgotten how scary she could be when she was angry.

After some searching, he found Lidiya outside on the grass. She was hugging her legs, her chin rested on her knees while she stared blankly across the expanse of trees that surrounded the house. She didn't say anything when Mike sat down next to her. Not at first.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she replied in a monotone.

Mike waited for more. Nothing came. He tried to think of something else.

"That stuff she was playing back," she said suddenly. "Was it real? Did he actually…?"

"Yeah. He did. I was there, so was Jeremy. He was going to…"

"Oh god." She covered a gasp with her hands. "Mike I… I'm so sorry. I had no…" She trailed off and buried her head. "There I go again."

"But you didn't know. You weren't even in the room. That's not your fault."

"Sure, maybe not that. Still…" She went quiet again for a minute. "Do you really hate me?"

Mike was taken aback. "What? No, of course not. She… she's just angry. She didn't mean it."

"Hmm." Silence followed again. "You talked to her about what happened between us?"

"Well… I mean, yeah. She's my best friend and uh… well, she gets nosy."

"Right." She let out a little laugh. "Only you would become best friends with an AI, Mike."

He laughed as well. "Come on, like you wouldn't. I still remember that Commander Data poster you had on your wall."

"Shush, you're not allowed to judge." Her smile faded away. "I really thought I'd landed something great with this job. I really did. But it was all a lie. All of it." Her hand found a nearby pebble, moving it around in her hands. "Turns out my boss is a child murderer along with being a borderline mad scientist and he didn't even hire because he thought I was good, but because of…" She stood up suddenly and threw the pebble as hard as she could. "Fucking bastard! I did everything for him, everything I was told and this is how he…!"

She kicked the ground near her and folded back up again, breathing heavily. Mike didn't really know what to say or if he should say anything. The last time he saw her this worked up was the night that everything changed between them. When it all ended.

"I'm… I'm sorry," he murmured.

"Me too." She looked in his direction, but not straight at him. "You know, even after I had been there a while, in the back of my mind I was thinking 'what's the catch here?' Sure, there were some legal disclaimers. Don't divulge any details about your job, don't engage with the synthetics beyond necessary work. But I loved it so much, I really did that it was just easy not to think about. Look where it's got me."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm in pretty much the same spot," said Mike. "I only took the job at Freddy's because I was desperate and looking for work, any work. I had no idea it would lead to… well, this."

"Weird how it works out, huh?" A small smile tugged at her lips. "You should have seen how I was when they first brought them in. The new ones, I mean. I thought it was some weird joke and when I found out it wasn't… I can't even begin to describe it."

"You're telling me," he said. "I thought it was just going to be an easy job in a kid's restaurant, then one of them comes screaming out of the dark at me after making me feel like I was in a horror movie. Don't want to think about how loud I screamed."

She tittered. "Bet that was fun. I screamed too, but for better reasons. I never got much in the way of direct engagement with the ones for the Fun Palace, other than what I read in reports. Anytime I got to see them, they'd usually be deactivated and I only had to make note of their vital functions in a dormant state."

"No engaging unless necessary," Mike quoted.

"Yeah, the boss was pretty clear on that. The only time I ever saw them in action was when they were performing in the restaurant and even then, I was busy with… well, my own assignment." She looked off wistfully. "I was so close to cracking it, I really was. Guess it's a good thing I didn't. One less black mark against me."

"Lid, look…" Mike sighed, taking a moment to think. "She's wrong. Okay? You're not like him. Not even close. He used you, like he has with everyone else. She's just… angry. Having a body of her own meant a lot to her and… I'm not saying what she did was okay, I'm… I'm just saying."

"Still have a way with words, don't you?"

"Yeah, that's me."

An anxious expression came over her. "But what about what she said? All about suspecting, but not doing anything?"

"If you had… look, if you had, he'd have probably just fired you. He sounded like he was playing things really close to the chest when it came to keeping you away from any of the really bad stuff he was doing. I mean, you're not trying to defend him or excuse him anymore. You know the truth now. It's a lot to process, I get it. Just don't beat yourself up too much, okay?"

"Okay," she said. "Thanks, Mike."

"It's fine. I get it. If you'd told me before I started this job what I would have ended up doing, I'd have laughed. Now though..." He looked back at the house. "They deserve to be happy. That's all they've ever really wanted. I want to try and help give them that.

She regarded him for a moment. "You really care about them a lot."

Mike nodded. "After what happened with, well, us, I had a hard time making any new friends. Like you said, always had a way with words. Trying to find work didn't really help either. They changed that and… I matter to them. I make a difference in their lives. I-I know it's weird, but it's the truth. I'm uh… I'm actually dating one of them."

"What?!" Her hands flew to her mouth. "Which one? Wait, it's not Goldie!"

"No, god no! It's uh Chica. The small one in yellow?" He could feel his cheeks go red. "She's just… she's nice and she cares a lot. She's really gentle and kind, always listens. She's… yeah, she's really amazing."

She went quiet again. When Mike looked at her, she was smiling.

"She sounds like she is. I'm happy for you, Mike. Really."

"You don't think it's weird that I'm dating a machine?"

"Well, what about this isn't weird when you think about it? And… it's hard to keep that perspective when there's all these emotions going on. You can't programme that. Well, you can in a way but let's not get into that." She untucked her legs and breathed a little easier. "I still need some time to, well, adjust. But I'll get there. Least I can do to make up for what's happened, right?"

"That stuff is on Sid, not you."

"I know, but I still want to do something. It's either that or just sit and cry and I already met my quota for that." She wiped at her eyes and attempted a grin but was stifled by a yawn. "So let's go… go get him!"

"Maybe after some rest first?"

She nodded and stood up, stretching out. Mike did as well, but paused when something crossed his mind.

"Hey Lid?" He took a deep breath and managed to look her in the eye. "I wanted to say that… that I'm sorry. For what happened between us in college."

Lidiya stared at him. "But… but you said that you didn't regret-"

"I know I did. And that was stupid. Everything I did back then was. You're right. I was… entitled, too caught up in this idea that I had of us that I didn't… I didn't stop to think." He broke eye contact, looking at her shoes. "Prison gave me time to think about a lot of things. You… you were one of them. I mean, even without that, with everything happening now, what does college drama even mean?"

"That's not how I would describe it, but yeah." She brushed her hair back behind her ear. "I'm sorry too, Mike. I can't deny that I had a hand in… what happened. Takes two to tango, right?"

"Yeah," he murmured. "So… we good?"

She nodded. "We're good. Come on, let's go and try to get a little rest."

The two of them walked back towards the house. A pair of leaves settled on the spot they had sat, before being blown off again on the wind.

"What do you think of her?" Jeremy asked Clyde. "Lidiya, I mean. You think we can trust her?"

Clyde shrugged. "Hard to say. Like you said, she was right with Hawthorne up until now and that's only because everything fell apart. Or she might be legit. I don't know. Guess we'll have to wait and see."

"Seems about right. Guess it's a good thing that we've got her here, where we can see her."

"If you say so."

Silence fell between them. Jeremy looked across at Clyde, another question rising in his mind. It was one that had been repeatedly occurring to him following the revelation of the fragments and that he couldn't ignore. He even had word straight from Sid himself about his suspicions. But asking it… that was another thing entirely.

"You going to keep staring longingly at me or do you have something you want to say?"

Clyde's question brought Jeremy back to his senses. He didn't even realise how long he'd been doing it for. He'd been going over how to ask what he wanted to several times in his head, but he couldn't bring himself to. How do you even begin to approach what Jeremy wanted to say?

Still, it was the first chance he had to speak to Clyde in a while. He should take it now. All he had to do was ask.

"It's… a little hard to say," he admitted.

"Well we're not going anyway. Least I'm not. Say what you want to say or I'm just going to go to sleep."

"Okay." Jeremy took another moment. "So… you know that Sid used the kids to, well, make you guys?"

Clyde opened one eye. "Wow, just opening with that, huh?"

"Hey, I said it was hard to say."

"Well you've said it now. Yeah, I do know. Sort of wish I didn't but I do."

"Yeah that can't be easy to live with." He paused again. "Look, what I wanted to ask was… I wanted to know if you, when it happened… I mean, after it was done did-"

"You want to know if the fragment of your brother got put in my head."

Jeremy blinked a few times at the bluntness of the statement. His expression must have given Clyde his answer.

"Is it because I'm the only one among my group that's black?"

"I mean, at first but then Hawthorne himself even said so. I kind of figured he would, but still."

"Fair enough." He sighed. "I had a feeling this was coming. Look, Jeremy, to tell you the truth… I don't know."

"But how can you not? It was in your head, you had to have some idea."

"Yeah, it was in my head, the same way a tumour is."

Jeremy stood up from the armchair he occupied. "Hey that's my brother you're talking about!"

He rolled his eyes. "If you want to call it that."

"Clyde, come on! Just give me something, please."

"There's nothing to give. Sorry, that's all there is to it."

Jeremy slapped his forehead with his palm. "Right, thanks a lot. Really helpful, Clyde."

"Look, what do you want me to say? Huh?" he snapped. "To tell you if your brother has a message for you from beyond or something? I'm not a damn psychic!"

"But he talked through you! I heard it, we all did. You can't tell me that there's nothing you don't know about it!"

"I can, because I don't." He pressed his head into his hands and sighed. "All I know is that sometimes, I'd get these bad headaches. Like, really bad. Started after we first got woken up, stopped while the Puppet ran the show and started again when he was gone. Then I find out that it's because a piece of the kid that was used to make me and died because of it is the cause, it gets scooped out and that's it. Happy?"

The annoyance that Jeremy felt at what seemed to be Clyde's usual, apathetic attitude didn't last long in the wake of that. He'd been so desperate to know about his brother, he hadn't actually thought about the person who was most likely connected to him. Clyde didn't look at him, his eyes fixed on the floor while rubbed his palms together.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I guess Goldie told you."

"A few days ago," answered Clyde. "Billy tried to help us with it. I guess we all did. But it's still hard, you know?"

"I know. Some days are okay, others… not so much."

He looked at Jeremy. "How do you handle it?"

"The best you can. I try to keep myself busy or not be on my own. You can't do it all the time though and that's… that's when it creeps back in. Knowing that he'll… he'll never…" Jeremy felt a lump in his throat that kept him from finishing.

"Sometimes," said Clyde, his voice bordering on a whisper, "I felt something. This… crushing, pressing feeling from somewhere in me. In my head. I mean, you know me, I'm pretty… well…"

"Laid back?"

"I was going to say lazy as hell, but sure, that works," he said with a snigger. "But this… it was different. Like this part of me that was so weighed down that it just pulled everything else down with it. It felt so small, but… I couldn't get away from it. It didn't feel like it came from me, but from something else. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah. Billy talked about something similar. A feeling of sadness that didn't come from him."

"Sounds about right. If I ever felt really… well, like that feeling did, that's when I got the headaches. The Puppet, he'd keep them from happening but then when we got out…" He pressed his fingers to his forehead. "I forgot how bad they were."

"They didn't look great. Didn't sound great either." Jeremy looked down at his hands. "You kept saying about how pointless it all was. How much it hurt. I keep thinking, is that what it was like for him? When Bobby died, were those his…?"

Clyde shifted in his seat. "I don't know. I never remembered saying that stuff. But if that's what he was saying, then…"

The conversation died for a moment after that.

"What you said before, about feeling like there was a weight pulling you down," said Jeremy. "I feel like that sometimes too."

Clyde looked at him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. When I'm alone and there's nothing else. It all just… God… I just miss him…"

Clyde said nothing. Jeremy didn't expect him to. He tried not to cry, but he couldn't stop it. It just happened. Jeremy vaguely heard the sound of footsteps. Clyde was knelt in front of him when he looked.

"Look, for what it's worth… I'm sorry. Really. I don't have all the answers. Or any answers, really." He laughed without humour. "Same as usual, right?"

"It's fine," sniffed Jeremy.

"You okay?"

"Not really but… that kind of helped. Thanks."

"Sure." He gripped Jeremy's shoulder firmly, who in turn gripped Clyde's arm. "Look, if it's all the same to you, I think I'm done with this."

"That's fine, me too." He wiped his eyes, leaning back in the chair. "What do you think's happened to them? The fragments, I mean. If Sid got what he wanted out of them, do you think they'd keep them?"

"Don't know, don't care. I'm done talking about this."

"Okay, okay, we're done now. Question for another time I guess. Thanks again, Clyde."

Clyde was quiet for a moment. "Yeah. You too, Jeremy."

Yellowscar1: I think it depends very much on perspective xD

Arc of Carona: Not sure if Hawthorne appreciates the irony but we certainly do xD

Alanuki: In a manner of speaking, yes xD

Vyrhys: Well all AIs together, isn't it? XD As for what Spring will do, it depends very much on how he's received by the others. We will simply have to wait and see

Guest: Sort of xD

Monkey999Boy: Thanks will very much be open to interpretation when they see what he's done xD