AUTHOR'S NOTE: In this story, William has three sons. Stan, the crying child, Norman, the foxy brother and Michael, who's the eldest. This also takes place in a slightly different version of FFPS. This story contains a scenario where Michael can meet his father for one last chat.

"This ends, for all of us. End communication."

Michael was sitting in his chair as he heard what were Henry's last words. He stared at his computer screen, which had shut off. Dead like practically everything else in the pizzeria. All the customers had left, so it was just him, Henry and the possessed animatronics. He was going to burn and die soon enough. And frankly, he couldn't wait. He'd been dead for so long, unable to pass on. But now, since all the animatronics were going up in smoke, he could finally join his mother and youngest brother.

He looked up at Helpy, who still kept the same grin as always, even as it caught fire. Michael smiled sadly. Maybe it was just because he was dying and was looking back on his work with rose-tinted glasses, but he hadn't done a bad job with Freddy's. Sure, a few kids got injured or sick, but they were very few and far between. Mostly, the place was like if Freddy's never had any murdered children. It was almost a shame to burn it down, but it had to be done. For the greater good.

As Michael began to reminisce on his life, he heard something that snapped him back to reality. It was some kind of loud stomping noise. He turned his head to his left and saw the unmistakable outline of a giant withered rabbit. His father, William Afton. Or, as he went by now, Scraptrap.

Michael nearly got out of his chair but made himself sit back down. Don't be stupid. He doesn't deserve to see you. Just stay here and burn.

However, for whatever reason, no matter how many times Michael told himself that, he couldn't shake the thought of going up to Scraptrap for one final talk. He hadn't spoken to him since 1990, 33 years ago. Even while he was salvaging him, the most communication they got was Michael awkwardly trying to say something and Scraptrap snarling. He talked with Scrap Baby for a bit during the salvage, where he probably would have cried if he still could, but never with his pathetic excuse for a father.

So, against his better judgement, against what he told himself, against everything, he stood up and climbed into the vent shaft to his left. He crawled through the vent as it got hotter and hotter. It was making him dizzy, but he had a feeling he wouldn't die so soon. It would have taken a bit more time.

Finally, when he got to the end of the vent, he stepped out into the steel room. And there stood his father. Scraptrap was banging on the walls, mumbling to himself. He looked like he was trying to find that way out Henry came up with but scrapped after Michael requested it wouldn't be necessary. Clearly, Scraptrap didn't know that.

"Hello, father." Michael's voice was almost emotionless. Scraptrap took notice and turned around. He smiled.

"Ah, Michael, my eldest son." Scraptrap walked over to him. "I never got to formally reintroduce myself. I must say, I like what you've done with this place. I could do better, but you can't change the past. Now…" He leaned in closer. "Where's the exit?"

Michael scoffed. "Nowhere. Henry removed it. I didn't need it. And neither do you."

Scraptrap growled and placed his remaining arm on Michael's shoulder. "Michael, I'm being serious. Where's the exit?" He tightened his grip on Michael's shoulder, causing him to wince in pain. Scraptrap laughed. "You're as weak as ever. Just like Norman. Even then, Norman was smart enough to light the fire outside the horror attraction. After this, I'll probably go after him."

Michael forced his father's arm off of him. "There is no way out, father. You're going to burn and die. We're all going to be put to rest. You, me, Henry, Elizabeth, Charlie and all the other souls."

"How stupid do you think I am?" Scraptrap's voice seemed to contain enough bile to melt through the steel in the room. "I know there's one way out. And, like it or not, you're going to help me get out." William gestured to the bone that was once his arm that was sharp enough to gouge out someone's eyes.

"There is no way out. How many times to I need to tell you? Besides, you don't deserve it."

Scraptrap chuckled lightly. "Michael, I am your father. I raised you. And now you won't help me? How ungrateful."

This little comment lit a fire in Michael's gut. The fact that his father, after all the abuse he gave him and Norman and sending him to die in his place because he was too cowardly to go himself, was trying to pass himself off as a good father was… almost sickening.

"You abused me. You abused Norman. You never cared about us. You never loved us."

William narrowed his eyes as the flames began to move into the room. "Michael, I did love you. I just had a hard time showing it. I still love you. Now, please help your dear father out of this hellhole." William was clearly trying to sound loving, but he could barely mask his hatred. This only ended up angering Michael even more. His face contorted with rage.

"Oh, now you love me? Now you care? Where was this when you were trying to kill Norman in Fazbear's Fright? Was was this when you were trying to bite my head off in the salvage room? Where was this when you were crawling around the vents, trying to find me so you could rip him apart?" His father didn't say anything. "Answer me!"

Scraptrap sighed and glared at his son. "Sharp as ever. You were always a disappointment, son. Norman was worse. Even Stan, looking back, was a coward. The only one who had promise was Elizabeth. She could have been like me. But you just had to kill us all."

Michael glared back, even though silently, he was feeling unnerved. William's attitude had changed since he last talked to him. William was being a lot blunter and more outwardly aggressive, always seeming as though he was a few seconds away from snapping. Whether this had been the result of his springlocked-induced cabin fever or if only now he wasn't hiding the monster he really was, Michael didn't know or care. "You're a monster. Pure evil. I'm so glad I left with Norman when I did."

Scraptrap scoffed. "Norman. I must say, he did a good job fending me off at Fazbear's Fright. But he didn't do good enough. After all, I'm still here."

Michael smiled grimly as the flames finally began to surround them. The room was finally on fire. "Not for long."

As those words left his mouth, something snapped inside of Scraptrap. He roared and pinned Michael to the wall. "I survived one fire Michael! I'll survive this one just as easily! And then, I'll kill more children! You'll die for nothing! Nothing!" With this, he stabbed Michael in the chest with his bone-knife. Michael gasped in pain. Scraptrap's face contorted into a grin as he unhinged his jaw. Without saying another word, he leaned forward and bit down on Michael's skull.

A searing pain spread through Michael's body as he screamed. Even though destroying his brain wouldn't affect him, it had decayed and was useless like the rest of Michael's remaining organs, it hurt like hell. Scraptrap dropped Michael and turned to the wall. He punched a hole in it, much to Michael's shock. Henry hadn't taken into account how strong the animatronics were. Michael had asked him and Henry told him that he honestly didn't know. Scraptrap looked at Michael and grinned. "Goodbye Michael."

Michael tried to force himself up but fell again. He told himself he could fight back, even though it didn't really matter, but he couldn't get back up. Then, over the sound of his father laughing, he remembered something… A repressed memory...

Michael stood in front of the giant yellow rabbit standing in the corner, looking at it plainly. Stan was hiding behind him, shaking. "It's just a costume, Stan."

Stan pointed at the rabbit. "It's scary. He's just standing there. He has no eyes."

Michael sighed and walked over to the lifeless costume. He brushed away the dust and activated the springlock mode. Almost instantly, the rabbit came to life. It smiled and waved.

"Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza! The best place on earth!"

This seemed to please Stan, who began to hop up and down with joy. "Thanks, Mike. You're very brave."

Michael smiled. "Thanks."

"Now when I see a scary big thing, I'll tell you so you can sort it out."

A few words of that memory echoed in Michael's head. Namely 'brave' and 'sort it out'. He needed to be brave. He needed to sort his father out.

He needed to fight.

Without a word, he stood up and grabbed Scraptrap by the neck. "Get off me, you purple freak!" He slashed at Michael, but Michael spun him around and punched him in the face, causing him to cough up a few bits of rotted flesh. Michael turned towards the flames.

"Goodbye, father."

With that he threw Scraptrap into the roaring flames. The monstrous rabbit emerged a few times, howling and screeching in agony. He pointed towards Michael as if talking to him twice. Eventually, however, when he emerged, he fell in front of Michael lifelessly. His mask had melted off and his skull was going next. William Afton was dead.

And he wouldn't come back.

Michael stared at his father's corpse, finally feeling at peace. Justice had been administrated to William. He looked up at the ceiling as he felt the flames lick his feet. And he smiled. He could finally ascend. The flames began to rise up to his legs, but he barely felt it. The only thing he felt was happiness.

And just like that, he was gone.