"So, did you want to go out to Afton Robotics tonight?" Henry asked the next morning, watching a still tired Michael shuffle into the kitchen.

It was almost comical, how he looked, with still bleary eyes and hair that stuck up every which way. He smoothed it, "Oh, yeah, guess so."

He fished a pack of gum from his pants pocket and popped a piece in his mouth, in lieu of breakfast. "Well, I'd offer you coffee but…" Henry trailed off.

Michael sat across from him and shot a tired smile at him, "'Fraid I haven't the stomach for it," his accent bleeding through.

Henry snorted while Michael grinned wide at his own joke. "Anyway," Henry took a sip of his coffee, "We want to get out there before the cops do."

The media circus surrounding both Fredbear's and Freddy Fazbear's after their respective murders was a nightmare and probably played a big part in flat out killing Fredbear's and leading Fazbear's down the road of decline. The news was in a frenzy, nothing bad ever happened in New Harmony or Hurricane! And the cops scrambled to find an answer for not only the affected families but also the frantic media. First, they pointed fingers at Henry but after he begrudgingly let them scour his property, they turned to William, on his accusation.

Though, nothing came of it and William was allowed free. Henry always wondered how "hardass Officer Burke" never found anything.

"Right, when we get back from your place, I'll get those tasers from my workshop and see if they're in working condition."

Michael raised an eyebrow so he explained, "Back at the Jr's location, the employees were using them as a sort of last ditch effort when the animatronics got wonky. I never approved of it though."

"Weren't you out of the company by then?"

"For the most part. I remained as a sort of consultant."

Once more, Michael gave him a smile, "Did they ever consult you?"

"Oh, loads," he grumbled and took a long sip from his coffee, "Listening on the other hand…"

Michael elected to take them over to his place in his own car rather than Henry's truck. When asked, he said he didn't want Henry to look suspicious and that he wanted to get it over with. Henry figured that did make sense. No telling what people saw or thought of Michael. And he didn't have much anyway to his name.

And he really wasn't lying. His home was sparse. It hurt Henry to see. Once inside, he followed Michael to his room. The boy stood at the threshold of it, as if lost in thought. Henry coughed, "Hey, Mike, what do you need help with?"

He turned and pointed at the TV cabinet, "In there are some VCR tapes, bag 'em up...oh! And the VCR too. You don't have one in the guest room."

Henry nodded and dutifully went to do that as Michael disappeared into his room, shutting the door behind him. By the time he had all the tapes together, Michael emerged from the room, in fresh clothes and carrying a box. He set it down by Henry who could see 'Clothes' scrawled in it in marker. He stood for a moment then asked out of the blue, "Did you ever look at Dad's blueprints?"

Henry set the bag of tapes on top of the box and looked at it, "Oh, no. I was waiting for you."

His face was unreadable and he turned away, "You can look at them without me. I have to grab some more things from my room."

Henry didn't mean to upset him. Michael was still struggling with the concept of William as a killer. He couldn't blame him, Henry's initial accusation against his former best friend was merely a suggestion…

Officer Clay Burke returned to Henry and grumbled, "Alright, you're free and clear, we can't find anything connecting you to any of the murders."

Henry, sitting on a log as the cops rifled through his entire property scowled, "Why would there be, why would I kill my own daughter?!"

"We're just being thorough. Do you have any idea who could have done this? Do you have any enemies?"

"Enemies! No, lord no!" He thoughtfully paused, "Listen, the only other person I can think of is Will. But I haven't a clue why he would do it. He loved Charlie, he was her Uncle Will!"

"Thanks for the tip, Mr. Emily. I don't know why either but we'll look into it."

He sighed deeply. It was only after he looked into it himself did he become convinced Will did it. Only few others knew how to operate the springlock suits. The killer used Spring Bonnie and no one knew her better than Will.

It only took a bit longer to pack up all Michael wanted to take. He was leaving a lot behind but it didn't seem to bother him.

Once home, Michael took his stuff up to the room, probably to unpack. He left him to it, figuring he'd be happier doing it himself and putting all his things where he liked. Making the room his own, if you will.

Henry himself went up to his office, opening his desk to take out the items he took from William's. First was the blueprints which he took out and spread into three stacks: the Funtimes, the "N" blueprints and the "P" blueprints.

He didn't bother looking through the Funtimes again, instead looking at the "N" blueprints. And oh, they did not look nearly as fun or friendly as the Funtimes. Unlike them, there was no disguising the function of these.

The top sheet of the blueprints was of a nightmarish Freddy, complete with sharp teeth and claws. There was little to be said of features, as it was obviously a rough draft. There were references to an "illusion disk" and Freddles.

Two papers were clipped to the Freddy blueprint. The first was of the referenced Freddles, miniature versions of Nightmare Freddy. The second wasn't a blueprint but a detail drawing of Freddy and his Freddles. Weird, this was Michael's, he recognized his style.

The next three blueprints were the rest of the Classics, each with references to the same "illusion disk" and Michael's drawings clipped to them. This was already forming some sort of explanation but Henry felt he was missing something.

The next was Fredbear and Henry hissed in distaste. His animatronic, the one he slaved over and Will was planning to make a perversion of it?!

The drawing clipped to it made it so much worse. Fredbear was hunched over, his muzzle streaked with scarlet. Michael had had a lot of baggage after the bite and here William was planning to weaponize it. Whether he made the animatronic for real or not wasn't what mattered, it was the intent. He resisted the urge to tear the blueprint in two and continued through the stack.

He furrowed his eyebrow at the next paper, as it was just a drawing and not a blueprint with an accompanying one. It depicted a bear near identical to Fredbear except it was pitch black with few features such as bright red eyes and a stomach mouth. Henry frowned deeply. Maybe saying Michael had some baggage after the bite was an understatement. He knew at the time he carried all his guilt deep in his chest and didn't dare let anyone see the full extent. But if it was bad enough to haunt him like this, then no one knew truly how badly he felt.

He sped through the next few, as he was seething at the first few, so he didn't think the next few could be much worse. He was correct as they were only concepts sketched by Will. A little plush rabbit with sunken eyes, a spindly, even moreso than she already was, Marionette with long, tentacle-esque fingers, even a Balloon Boy with a bear trap mouth! What in the good heavens did Will plan using these for?

He sighed deeply, leaning back in his chair. He should be glad it appeared Will never went through with these (and he sincerely hoped not) but he was just angry he thought of them at all! And there was something shady about using Michael's drawings as inspiration, sick even. He eyed the last stack and figured to go through the rest of the items before he went to see Michael.

The last stack must have been refined prototypes. Quite a few were refined versions of those from the blueprints. "Labit" was now Lolbit and was apparently supposed to link up to some sort of network. There was some even innocuous things in there, like holiday versions of their Classic lineup. It was something they had always wanted to do, to make separate fabric skins they could put on the Classics' endos for the holidays. Of course, everything fell apart well before then.

He picked up the disk next. Could this be the illusion disk? It was small and silver with a plastic cap in the middle, housing an LED light. It was dead, so it wasn't going to give its nature any time soon.

He sighed and took the notebook. Immediately he was flooded with disappointment. It was written in code, all of it. He swore as he flipped through it. So close yet so far!

Frustrated, he put it all back in his desk. The tape player would wait until later. He left the drawing of the nightmarish Fredbear though, folded it and pocketed it.

Michael was in the room, sitting on the bed and putting his clothes on hangers. He had hooked up the VCR to the television and had some sort of action movie playing. Henry wouldn't know what it was, they weren't his thing. He looked up and waved. "Looks like you've just about moved in," Henry nodded, surveying the room.

"Yep," he said, popping the p and smiling at him.

Well, now Henry was having second thoughts on asking him about the drawing. He sat on the bed and started, "I went lookin' through the stuff from your dad's place."

Michael frowned, "What did you find?"

"Nothing much new though this is part of it," he took the drawing from his pocket, smoothed it out and handed it over.

Michael's face fell, "This is the thing from my nightmares…"

"Your nightmares?"

"After...the accident, I had a lot of nightmares. And this guy along with a bunch of other freaky animatronics were in them, always trying to hurt me," he looked at the drawing again, "This guy would pick me up and...bite down."

Henry frowned, not needing to ask for clarification. Instead he said, "These were with some of the blueprints, did you draw them?"

Michael nodded, "Dad noticed I wasn't getting good sleep, asked about it then told me maybe it would help if I drew them out. Why...why were they with them?"

A pause then, "Your dad had blueprints of these guys, not complete ones thank goodness."

The paper crinkled as Michael clenched his fists, "Why?! He saw how much sleep I was losing from these guys!"

Henry helplessly shook his head, "He didn't say why."

Michael hissed and thrust the drawing back in his hand, "I don't want to see this thing ever again."

He sighed and hung his head, "I'll finish this up and we can head out."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I want to get that done."

Henry rose from the bed, "Alright, just...take it easy, Michael."

"Will do."

The drive over to Afton Robotics was quiet and tense as they sped through the mostly deserted highway. Afton Robotics was a good distance out of Hurricane, nearly in the middle of the desert. It certainly helped with the atmosphere; hopeless and desolate. Henry typically found the desert nights to be beautiful but the building stretching ominously over the highway made them anything but.

They parked and Michael got out first, shining his flashlight over the parking lot. It was deserted. He flicked the flashlight off and walked up to the door, punching a code into the keypad. The doors opened and he smirked, "You'd think they'd change the code every so often."

"As bad as those people who took over Fazbear's," Henry shook his head as he caught up to him.

The pair set off, Michael leading him to the back to the elevator. They stepped inside and the machine whirred to life, a little jingle playing as they descended into the depths. In an attempt to alleviate the awkwardness, Henry murmured, "That's some...elevator music, huh?"

"Yeah, really sets the mood of going straight into a pit of killer animatronics."

A ding and the doors opened. Michael naturally took up the lead, shining his light over the room then shining it through the windows for good measure. "Alright, let's start in Funtime Auditorium. It's the biggest."

Henry eyed the vents on the floor, "Are we…?"

"Yes," and Michael dropped to his knees, shimmying his way inside.

"I swear," he sighed as he followed him.

Once inside, Michael shone his light over the room. Other than a few stray parts here and there, it was empty. He relaxed to a degree. His light shone over the door at the fair end of the room and his lip curled.

"Whatcha lookin' at, boy?" Henry asked as he stood, wincing with effort.

"Nothing you want to see," he mumbled cryptically, "That's the Scooping Room."

"Oh."

He shone the light along the edge of the room, landing on a door halfway down the way, "That's the er...parts and services, right. I don't think there's anything worth anything in there," his light went over a door at the nearer end to them, "But that? I haven't a clue what that is."

"Sounds like a good place to start."

They crossed the room in silence, Michael in the lead. He unclipped the taser off his belt, eyes scanning the room as they went. There was nothing here, he tried to rationalize. Ennard couldn't have made it back within the day. But yet, he worried.

Finally, he opened the door.

Inside, it was lit by three bulky monitors, stacked on each other and flickering static, casting an eerie glow to the room. On the same desk was a computer, powered down. Behind it all, on the wall was a keypad and above all this, an ajar vent. Michael scowled, "Hey, what is this doing here?"

He stalked up to the desk and swiped something off of it; the Fredbear plush. The walkie-talkie it had been holding clattered to the desk. Henry stepped in behind him, "Isn't that your brother's?"

"It's one-of-a-kind and," he flipped it upside-down to show the "C.A." stitched into it's paw.

He raised an eyebrow at the fallen walkie-talkie and picked it up to speak into it, "Hello?"

The plush crackled then mimicked, "Hello?"

The two looked at each other, eyes wide. Henry shook his head helplessly and Michael scowled once more. "I'm going to check this out," Henry sat in the chair and booted up the computer.

"Right," Michael tucked the plush under his arm, having no intentions of leaving it behind.

He inspected the keypad. Now what could that be for? With a little thinking, he punched in the first year he could think of. It played a little click of affirmative. 1983...of course.

The screens changed, to where they had been barely 24 hours earlier. "Um," Michael said, alerting Henry who was patiently waiting for the computer to finish booting.

He looked up, "Isn't that your house?"

"Why…?" Michael narrowed his eyes, he was getting tired of asking that.

He looked back at the plush as it clicked, "Walkie-talkie must have been to talk to Cassidy and the screens to watch over him...or me and Elizabeth after the accident."

Henry bit back a comment of how creepy that was. Instead he tilted his head, "You reckon?"

Before Michael could respond, the computer booted to where it had been before it was unceremoniously powered down. Henry couldn't parse exactly what was going on in the paused footage. Michael took a step forward, squinting. It clicked. He was looking in a mirror at himself, hunched in a heap with Ennard hovering like a vulture.

He stumbled back, hit the wall and slid down to the ground, wheezing, "Nooooo…"

Henry was up like a shot, "Michael!"

He dropped to his knees beside him as Michael clutched the Fredbear plush like a lifeline, eyes wide with terror. His chest was heaving in a panic. "Mike, it's going to be alright. They're not here, you're here with me," he spoke in a panic.

A memory came unbidden of Henry comforting someone just like this, many years ago. He shook his head to clear it. He had to be in the here and now.

Luckily, Michael was getting himself back in control. Henry sighed, "Maybe we should go home. I can't see any evidence of Will being here."

"But the computer—"

"Even so, he's not here now."

Michael looked at the plush, eyes hooded then he nodded, "Let's get out of here."

Henry ended up driving home, something Michael didn't complain about. He rubbed the head of the Fredbear plush as they pulled into the driveway. Fredbear stared back innocently.

Once they parked, Michael got out ahead of Henry. Henry stuck his head out the window, "Hey, Michael! In a hurry?"

"I'm going to bed."

"But you're going to miss—"he disappeared inside, "...your show."

Henry sighed deeply. Well, he couldn't blame him. The past few days must have just been an onslaught of one thing after another to his emotions. He wasn't sure if it was a perfect comparison but after losing Charlotte and his dreams and his wife leaving...he felt sometimes like he just wanted to sleep too.

Michael collapsed on his bed. He groaned into the pillow and rolled over, setting Fredbear on the other side of the bed. He frowned and said to it, "I miss you, Cassidy. Everyday, if you can believe it. I really wish I could go back and...sock myself in the face. Tell him he's a little brat and he needs to appreciate what he has...it's not going to be there forever."

The plush stared and he sighed, closing his eyes, soon going off to sleep.

His eyes snapped open and he stared at the ceiling. He was back in that room. He lifted up his hand. And he was back in his teenage body.

He sat up, dread crawling up his spine. He took the flashlight and clicked it on. He was having those nightmares again.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Michael slid out of the bed and crept to the right door. He paused. All quiet. For good measure, he shone the light down the hall. Nothing.

He repeated this for the other door, the closet and the bed. Nothing was here, no monsters, nothing. He should have been glad for no monsters in the dark corners but all he felt was dread. He pondered what to do as he sat in the middle of the room. Well, it was worth a try.

Despite his better judgment, he stepped into the hall. "What's the worse they can do? Kill me again?" he tried to joke but it fell flat. He started to creep down the hall.

The hall stretched ever onward, feeling miles long instead of just a dozen feet long. Doors lined it, all shut. Michael kept swearing he could hear something behind him but nothing ever came.

Finally, he emerged downstairs and jumped.

In the middle of the living room, was the four Classic animatronics, hunched over in sitting positions, weathered and worn. They were situated in a semi-circle around a large gift box with the Fredbear plush on top. It's eyes were alight and seemingly fixed on him. One by one, each animatronic's eyes came on, shining in the dark. The box's lid shifted and a spindly hand came from under, lifting it just enough for something with bright green eyes to stare back with. Fredbear began to crackle then his speaker began to play, "Help...help...help...HELP!" it screamed!

Michael startled awake with a cry. He stared at the ceiling, where the shadows reached far. His eyes drifted to the clock on the side table. It was 6 am. He stared back, numb to actually process what he had just seen.

It wasn't a nightmare, not quite. Weird dream, yes, but nightmare, no. Should he be grateful for that? Perhaps but it still clung to him.

Days passed and Michael did not dream again. He didn't mention it to Henry, barely having any idea on what it was himself. Today, he was out in the yard. In fact, he had been out there the past few days. He nagged Henry for something to do to help and, despite Henry's insistence he didn't have to, Michael continued. So he eventually relented and gave him a list of things to do around the yard, if he really wanted to. Which he did, not only to help, but to keep himself busy.

Today, he was raking. And thinking about the dream, like he had the past few times he was out here.

Did the dream mean anything or was he just stressed? If it did mean something, what? Was someone calling out to him? Henry seemed to be of the mindset that there was ghosts within Freddy's but why would they call to him? They didn't know him and hell, he was the son of who killed them!

He raked a little more violently. It didn't make sense, at all. And there was the matter of the thing within the box. He remembered the Marionette, having seen it before it debuted and hearing stories from Jeremy.

Jeremy...they were good friends for a while, especially after the accident. All of Michael's friends split after that apart from him. Jeremy understood he didn't mean to do it. They might have remained friends if Michael hadn't moved away in a bid to get away from Freddy's after Jeremy's own accident. Man, he missed him too. Maybe he was still in the area. No, then he'd have to explain everything to him and that...that was a lot.

He leaned on the house, admiring his handiwork. He'd eventually have to get a hobby but this did help. He leaned his head back, looking up at the cloudy autumn sky. Something caught his eye.

Up in the window above him, his window, was the Fredbear plush. Except it was facing out, instead of in, like it should. Mike stared at it dumbstruck but didn't have much time to think about it because someone was coming up the road. Immediately, he dropped the rake and retreated towards the back. He lingered until he saw it was a cop car. Then he bolted in, yelling, "Henry! Cop coming up the way!"

"Cop?" Henry looked up from what he was doing but Michael had already gone upstairs and out of sight.

Shortly after, there was a knock at the door. At it was none other than Officer Clay Burke. Henry's eyebrows raised, "Officer Burke? What is the problem?"

Officer Burke, or Clay Burke, was a big part of the investigations into Freddy's back in the 80s and was fiercely determined to get to the bottom of them. Probably still was. However, when he never found any conclusive evidence for William's involvement, Will was allowed free. No doubt a sore spot for the officer to this day.

Clay replied, "We're looking into the disappearance of William Afton, Mr. Emily. May I come in?"

"Well, sure," Henry stepped aside.

He knew Michael had the common sense to stay out of sight. It would be an interesting thing to explain otherwise.

He led him into the kitchen where Clay consulted his notes, "The Afton Robotics people called us, said Will hadn't touched base with them for some time. Obviously very unusual for their CEO. I wanted to know if you had absolutely any idea of where he may have gone."

"No, sir. Haven't seen nor talked to Will since after he was let free."

Clay whistled, "Guessing that did a number on ya'll's relationship? The whole accusation?"

Henry, vaguely annoyed, nodded. "Anyway," Clay continued, "Now, I wanted to ask because we did find his car. Out behind the abandoned Freddy's. Looked it high and low for him but nothing. We haven't a clue where he went from there."

Henry raised his eyebrows once more, "Why would he be there?"

"We have no idea. No evidence of what he was up to or even where he went. If you asked me, I'd say he never left but obviously that isn't the case."

Henry nodded.

"Now, this next thing is off the book," Clay closed his notebook and Henry perked up, "Michael Afton, his son, is also missing following some frankly bizarre rumors."

"Rumors?"

Clay's mouth tightened then he waved him off, "Like I said, rumors. He seemed to have split town from Enterprise. I have no idea what to make of it but I have half a mind to say the disappearances are related."

"Well, I haven't talked to Michael either," Henry lied, "But I hope he's alright. Sorry I couldn't help more."

"Nothing you can help," he rose and tipped his head at Henry, "Have a good evening, Mr. Emily."

"And you too, Officer Burke."

He watched him leave and only got a few moments to reflect on what was said before Michael stepped into the kitchen, "What was that for?"

"It was Officer Burke."

"You mean hardass Officer Clay Burke?"

"The very one and same. They're looking for your father."

Michael frowned, "Did they find anything?"

Henry paused bur he couldn't lie to the boy, "His car was behind the old Freddy's but no one knows where he went from there."

"Something did happen."

"I'm not saying that. He could have skipped town for all we know."

Michael frowned and started for the door.

"Michael, don't go looking at the pizzeria for him," Henry warned, "The place is crawling with cops and the last thing is we need is them to see you! Not only for the obvious reason but because Clay very much made it sound like he thinks your and your dad's disappearance are connected!"

Michael shot him a defiant look and for a second, he thought he was going to ignore him. Then he hung his head and sighed, his arms dropping to his sides, " So this is it. I just...I wanted to ask him why."

"You know they've looked through that place thoroughly. It's Burke we're talkin' about. We'll just have to wait for him to come back. William will come back."

Michael frowned tightly then left without another word. Obviously, he didn't believe Henry. He wasn't even sure what to tell Michael. He himself was sure Will would come back, he had to so Henry could show everyone what he did. He sighed deeply.

Michael closed the door behind him and sat on the bed, drawing one leg up to his chest. Why wouldn't his dad come back for him? Didn't he want to see if he was okay? Was he frightened maybe? But he knew he loved him. He wouldn't abandon him unless something happened, risk of getting arrested or not.

Maybe he shouldn't want his father to be here but he had so much to ask. Why did he kill those children? Why did he build the Funtimes? Why did he send him down there?!

All his repressed emotions and thoughts were bubbling up and Michael was struggling to keep a lid of them. He wanted to throw something, to break something! Or even to just cry or scream! He didn't want to be angry at his father but he was. His actions, everything he did, tore their family apart. Tore even Henry's apart. All those good times were gone. How could his father have done that, to deprive those children of their happiness? He didn't understand and didn't know if he could.

He turned to the Fredbear plush and shakily grabbed it, hugging it against his chest. The only one left was his mother, who separated from his dad when he was but a boy, albeit amicably. She lived in Montana now. Michael hadn't seen her for so long and how could he, in this state?

He could call, he supposed. Not tonight, not like this.

But...he could call someone else.

He stood, walking over to the landline, taking Fredbear with him. He dialed and waited.

Predictably, it went to voicemail. That was okay, he expected that. He sighed deeply, "Father, its me. Michael. I don't know when...or if you'll hear this but...I did it."

A pause then with more conviction:

"I did it. It was right where you said it would be..."