Author's Notes: "The crocus pushed it's little head above the winter snow and said-Oh spring is here, it must be spring, because I heard a robin sing!" Spring is here! Oh, sorry, the season that is, not the bunny. Well, he's here too. But we know that already, didn't we? Shame the others can't seem to figure it out yet...


"That cold ain't the weather. That's death approaching." –Anon


ACT II
Chapter 9. The Family That Stays Together

Freddy's glare was just about ready to burn through his back and right into the arcade game he was working on. At first, Mike hadn't much noticed it. That seemed silly to admit, considering he knew his best friend almost as well as Bonnie, who was programmed to know him in the first place. For him and Bonnie, things came naturally. He and Mike had to earn their friendship badge, but Mike liked to think he had come by the bear's loyalty the honest way. So then, considering their history and that aforementioned closeness, maybe it wasn't such a surprise. After all, Mike mused as he carefully selected some nuts to help screw down the machine's side frame; he was used to old Faz.

"If you're gunna give me the disappointed-bear stare, you could at least come over here and prop the paneling into place for me." Mike hummed idly as he scooped up the drill and shifted down onto one knee.

He received a grunt for his comment, but a second later the shiny blue side was being shoved firmly into place. Mike buried the drill head deep, and went to work, bolts in his pockets and long screws in his teeth.

"We seem ta be having these little talks more often, lately."

"Yehh," answered Mike, his words muffled around the screws. He plucked one of the four free and reached for the next hole. "Ah tolff yuff if wenf fine,"

"Just seemed too easy, son. Even you have to admit that."

Another screw was removed before Mike bothered answering, and when he did it was with some exasperation.

"I'm willinghh to noff look a giff horffe in da mouff, F'eddy." Managed a distracted Mike.

"Well, I ain't."

Mike rolled his two-tone eyes. Freddy never was, though admittedly that was a trait Mike admired about the stubborn old bear. He wasn't too willing to keep poking the bear for once, especially since Freddy was still up in arms over what had gone on with Molten Freddy only a few hours ago. Mike tried not to let his ire show, because all this was only Faz's way of saying he cared, and he just wanted to look after his best friend. Mike felt the same. And he also remembered how Afton had taken apart the Fazes back in his horror show.

'Marion put em all back together back then. Only he's not here anymore, it's just me. I lose these guys, and I lose myself. …Lose everything. I know I won't be able to keep it together.'

Molten Freddy's appearance, it seemed, had shaken them all and given everyone plenty to think about. But there was more to think about too, and Mike wanted to pick the old bear's mind while Freddy seemed in the mood to talk.

"How cumff Maff was—" pluck, "shurphrised bout yer ASL?"

Freddy was silent, and Mike knew it was not because he had not understood Mike's jumbled words around the metal in his mouth. Mike could always count on Freddy to understand him. Mike waited in his own thoughtful silence, but his second glance up to Freddy was finally enough to unstuck the bear's jaws and get him talking.

"Michael…that boy," he corrected quickly, a small chink in the armor Mike spotted immediately but didn't comment on, "taught us the sign language stuff. We ain't always been the gabbing quartet that you originally met."

"Hmm," said Mike, but he hauled his lean body up to his feet, and freed the last screw from his lips, reaching up to tighten it to the casing and body of the weird game, where by Mike's estimate of the coding you had to chase fruit in a maze, not unlike Pac-Man but minus the ghosts.

"Makes sense. I had always thought your kids taught you all the stuff there is to know about being human. But he was here first. So if that was something you picked up from him," Mike stepped back to admire his handiwork, motioning for Freddy to let go. "Why'd he look like how he'd seen a ghost, huh? There's something you're not telling me, Mr. Faz."

The playful lilt to Mike's tone was warm as ever, but worry laced his features. He turned his attentive gaze from one machine to the other, but Freddy he offered a gentle smile.

"Him being here is really dredging things up on you, ain't it pal?" Mike's hand reached out, patting the bear's shoulder protectively. "I know I haven't said this yet, so…I'm really proud of you for going along with this, but I need you to loosen your own bolts a little. Geez, Freddy, you're so pent up I'm starting to get a little uneasy. Bonnie's getting close too, Chica and Foxy will be right behind you. And you haven't scared me like this in nine years."

"Please, lad," Foxy scoffed from his lounging spot across the stage. "Ye weren't scared when he broke a table with yer body. Ye were jus' stupid back then."

"Boy's still like that now." Freddy huffed, but his dry straight man drawl made Mike snicker. Like the others, Mike loved when serious Freddy tossed in a joke of his own. "Got more courage than common sense, he does."

"Fine, fine!" Mike held his hands up in surrender, but he laughed. "I can take a hint. Or a direct body check in this case. I'm being reckless again. I, I know. And I'm sorry."

"Ya gunna do sumthin'bout it this time, son?" Freddy finally demanded. "Or am I gunna be onling to ya half dead down in that blasted Pizza World? Or perhaps hauling yer lifeless hide back ta' hide in Parts, hoping against hope ya wake up this time?"

"Ouch," Mike hissed, shoulders rising in weak defense. He knew some of what the gang went through after he and Gold beat Ennard and chased Springtrap away. He didn't realize it had shaken Freddy up that bad, though.

"Okay, fair…"

"We all be worried about ya, Mikey." Foxy pitched in his two cents, as if sensing when it was time to mediate the two. "And ye know it can drive us near crazy, when we don't know if yer in trouble, or if'n ya need us. We lost a lot matey…don't make the Captain lose more." Foxy's words were handpicked carefully, and with certainty.

'Like you all—like he lost Max.' Mike's lips pressed flat, and he bit his tongue to keep the words in. He didn't need to hurt Freddy anymore than he already had. Especially with Pizza World being brought up again in less than 72 hours. Damn. Mike sighed.

"I'm not going anywhere Freddy, I promise." Mike says instead, replacing his hand on the old bear's arm and leaning in with honesty and trust burning in his gaze. He mustered as much as he can and waits for those glass optics to soften, and slowly but surely, they did.

"Ya stick close, Michael." Freddy rumbled, his dulcet words calming but no less firm. "We got Michael Afton and his Suit skulking around. We got these damn arcade machines tryin' ta tell ya sumthin. And now we got more damn animatronics showin' up in the back alley! An' I don't want it ta be something that shows up that ya can't handle, that we ain't there ta protect ya from."

"I can handle anything that—" but Mike sees that glare appear and he winces, catching himself. "…okay. Right. You're right. I couldn't…handle…some things."

'Afton coming back. Circus Baby lying to me. Turns out I wasn't even their original target. That was supposed to be Max's job. Why do I keep screwing up so much lately, Mari? How do I stop all this without lying to Freddy?'

"I won't take them on by myself again either. I promise that, too."

"Meadow muffins! You'll just use that boy again." Freddy snapped, and there, finally seemed to be the center of most of his ire, aside from Mike's usual recklessness that is.

At this, Mike stood up to his full height, and reminded with a strict comment,

"Max saved my skin in there! He reacted even quicker than Gold, Fred. Now you don't have to like that, but you do have to accept it." Mike's curt glare lessened, smoothing into a soft glance of concern and affection. "This isn't just about me, either. You've never put anything above my safety, especially to the point you have when it comes to hating on Max."

Looking thoroughly put out and scolded, the old bear bot turned away.

"C'mon big guy, talk to me. It's spooky to have you all closed off to me, I got enough eerie stuff to deal with right now."

"…ah can't, Michael. Not yet. Jus'…gimmie more time."

Mike seemed just as unhappy as Freddy to have to be told that, but surprisingly he relented.

"Fine. Listen, I gotta grab a bite, but then I gotta test out Fruity Maze over here. I want you with me when I do, okay?"

"Fine, son." And that did seem to greatly satisfy the old bearbot.

"Okay." Mike relaxed too, feeling more at ease as soon as his best friend was. "Be right back, Foxy."

"Aye, lad."

Foxy regarded the two walking away, then sighed and started to settle back down. He stopped then, half because he felt ice creep into his frame and half because, behind him, Lefty was moving. He quickly shot a glance at the doors—but Freddy and their night guard were gone and clearly distracted.

So Foxy turned to toss a casual glance over his shoulder, humming back as the bear turned it's lopsided head down to look at him. From this angle, it was impossible to see the little puppet that was responsible for moving Lefty's worn frame.

"Devil." He grunted, the only greeting he could offer without losing his temper. After all, Mike had fallen victim to that Midnight Motorist game, and the Marionette had done nothing but stand there!

Even worse, it might have caused it to happen, Foxy couldn't rule anything out. And he prided himself on his instincts most of all. The Puppet didn't respond, at least for a moment it didn't. Then it spoke, and it sounded eerie and haunting as ever.

'It's a good thing Michael promised what he did to Freddy. It is, however, a pity he did not ask Freddy to do the same.'

"Aye?" Foxy eyed Lefty with no small amount of distain. "Plannin' on pullin' strings again, ye devil?"

'I do, Foxy.' The voice from the old shabby bear hissed saccharinely. 'You're not going to like them, but they are going to be a necessary evil. It's what our Creator bids me to do, I must obey to keep my illusions going.'

"Then…ye ain't following Mike this time." Foxy recalled their earlier chat. "Ye be in'it fer the old coot."

'You have behaved well, Foxy, despite your little outburst a day ago. I will tell you something, now, that you can put to our—or perhaps Michael's—advantage. I did not return here on our night guard's merit alone. He is still a good man. He is too good of a man to accomplish calling something as foul and vile as me.'

"…best news I heard all week." And, truly, it was. Foxy relaxed a little, and wandered closer to squint at Lefty. Just behind the bear's slack jawed, gaping mouth, Foxy could see a slip of white that was cracked and muddied moving in the gloom.

'I'm sure. We've put a lot of stock in Michael's usefulness. But Fredbear is old, and Michael has already begun to show the wear and tear of being a Suit. His judgment is off, and he is scared and lost. It's worrying me.'

"Join the club," Foxy snorted, but tried to keep his irritably from showing too much. He wanted to wring as much information that could help Mike as he possibly could. If that meant playing nice with even this little devil, so be it.

'And our Creator is upset. Rightly so. He and I have come back to finish a job once and for all. And he intends to take down anyone and everyone included to do so.'

Foxy tried to stop it, but his hackles still rose and a low snarl of defiance rippled from him. It wasn't anger at the Puppet, not really. Not when it had just made it clear it wasn't in as much control as Foxy had first accused it of being.

'You see my dilemma.' Lefty's one optic glided slowly to stare back at the pirate fox.

"Ain't no dilemma from where ole Foxy stands. Yer always talkin' bout how much the lad means to ya—put yer powers where yer musicbox is, and stand up fer him! Ye be the best offense he's got!'

'I used to be, Foxy.' There's a tired chime from behind old Lefty's front. 'I'm afraid I'm showing my age too. It's taken a lot from me to keep my promises to Henry. Worse, if Michael knew of my actions—he'd be disappointed in me. And worse still, he'd try to free me.'

"…aye, that he would. And…and ye know he'd take his attention off his jobs here. Might even get Henry ticked off…might get him fired." But something else the Puppet had hinted at made Foxy shift in unease.

"…yer trapped? Not, not in there?" Foxy took a stab. The Marionette's answer was chillingly overwhelmed when it replied,

'A new box, the same old rules.'

"Damn." Foxy tugged at his jaw in frustration. "And Henry? He's gunna take out Mike over this? Along with the purple man and the others?"

'All of you. He is hurt, and vicious. He wants to rewrite history. He does not understand there are two Michaels. And if he did, he does not care.'

If Foxy had blood, it would have run cold.

"He thinks Michael is—!? How!"

'Senility. Or perhaps just anger that has gotten older than him, even beyond his bones. I couldn't tell you.'

"Lad's gunna ask me how I know all this." Foxy drawled, "Worse, the Cap'n is wound up tight as you. He's got every nerve on edge, lookin' fer threats and dangers in this place."

'Then do not tell him all of it. I can only give you a little more time, Foxy. Henry demands I even the playing field. Tip the scales.'

"…I'm sure yer aware we ain't gunna leave the lad without a fight."

'I count on it.' The Marionette replied with a confident hum. 'Fight me. As hard as you can. Do not go gently into that good night.'

"We didn't the first time." Foxy remarked, sour and sore now, his good mood dampened. "we sure as hell ain't now that Mike's on the line."

'…Our night guard really is something else.' And that was the last thing the Puppet said, whether by choice or by exhaustion, Foxy couldn't tell you.

"Now me problem is…how do I tell the lad this? Without giving away too much of your act, Puppet?" foxy sighed, shaking his head in annoyed frustration and stormed off. He had to think about this. He needed a plan.

The problem was, he wasn't Mike and he certainly wasn't the scheming Marionette. Foxy and Alex were only good for pranks, not plans that involved actually thinking. This wasn't going to be easy.

And if he waited too long, it was going to be too late to save any of them, according to the Puppet.


'Big brother.'

Max paused, leaning back from his work at Scrap's shoulder and paused. He blinked, trying to listen around his music.

'Big brother…'

He yanked the headphones from his ears, paused the Police as they complained about Roxanne. Instinctively held his breath even though he no longer had to.

Zilch. Huh. Maybe…?

"Did you hear that?" He demanded at Scraptrap immediately, and realized suddenly his bunny was looking at the side wall of Parts and Services, head tilted at an odd angle.

His rabbit grumbled at him in confused agreement, then lapsed into expectant silence.

"Your ears working?" it was said in confusion and slight fear, which only flowered in his center when Scrap quickly corrected him.

'No-Ears-No-Noise. Hear-head.' The green bunny signed with confidence. He tapped his skull for good measure, then huffed in annoyance.

"You hear it in your head?" he translated directly, just to be sure, even as he knew he understood Scraptrap.

"…big broooother…" and there it was again.

Max shivered, and this time he saw the effect the voice had on both of them. They were both hearing it then, and it wasn't being spoken outloud, but privately. Too privately. An echo. Maybe a ghost? Man, he hated ghosts.

"…Scraptrap," Max started, desperate and disconcerted. "Stay here."

Scraptrap looked unhappy, but obeyed the command. Unfortunately his hip was loose again, and the time it would take to lock themselves together into their combined Suit mode might be too long for whatever it was calling to them. To Max. And even if there was time to combine, they didn't exactly move quietly together.

No, he had to check this out alone. It was a scary thought, but fear was fine. Fear kept you alive. (Well, sort of. Kept you in one piece anyway.) He didn't need Mike or Bonnie catching wind of this. Helpy was distracted by some tools and one of his cassettes thankfully, and didn't follow him as he slipped soundlessly out the door and headed for the Salvage room.

"Come here, big brother." It was clearer now. It was female, and it was young.

"Henrietta?" He hissed out, peeking into the Salvage room.

It was empty, if incredibly dark and eerie.

Max eyed the far door, the one that lead out into the alleyway.

Forcing his grey fingers to release the door frame, Max Afton pushed himself out into the twilight. The overhead buzzed tiredly, then went out as he stepped outside. That was fine. He pushed mentally back into Scraptrap, asking for help and on his next blink, his purple eyes illuminated like all animatronics could do. The door to the restaurant, to warmth and safety and Scraptrap and Mike, clicked shut behind him. It wasn't locked was it!? He checked with a blind, groping hand to confirm the handle was still loose, which it was. Okay. He had an escape plan, or at the very least, a quick route into the main room where he could lead her and get her discombulated and distracted if he had to. He really hoped he didn't have to, though.

At first, Max stepped slowly to the next door, that would lead into the warehouse.

"Over here!" came the urgent, almost eager whisper.

Dead frame tense and tight as one of Bonnie's guitar strings, Max corrected his aim and took a right, then another until he was standing along the north side of the restaurant. Some dumpsters and a small door to the kitchen greeted him.

And tucked alongside the dumpsters, terrible and wiry, leaned what remained of Circus Baby.

She smiled up at him. Her sectioned face seemed…off, as if the parts used to build her features didn't quite slot together but she forced them to anyway. She must have rebuilt herself, because the Funtimes certainly weren't with her anymore. While the roller-skates were more amusing than anything, the worst part about her recycled and cobbled together design was certainly the awful claw taking the place of her right hand now. It looked too unwieldy to be hugely effective, but he also didn't move closer. He didn't want to be in reach of that thing if his little sister lost her temper, as she used to be so apt to do.

"Oh. Hello, big brother." Circus Baby gazed in impassive boredom, as if he'd caught her by surprise and she wasn't terribly pleased. "Mikey."

Max swallowed.

"…hi, Henri. You…you uh," What do you even say in a situation like this? "You don't look…so great…sis…"

"Tch. Looked in a mirror lately, stupid?" She murmured snidely back at him, and Max bristled.

"Don't you start." He warned, forcing down a scowl.

"You started it—"

"Enough," Max cut in, feeling an annoyance only an older sibling would ever learn. "Look, what do you—what do you want? Why did you call me?"

"I didn't do anything. Why are you always blaming me?" Circus Baby simpered, sounding hurt and offended. "I haven't seen you in ages, Mikey, and this is how you treat me? Not since you disobeyed Father, and left us. Left your own family. Deserter. Traitor."

Max stayed silent, his face stony. He wasn't going to let her get under his skin. He couldn't.

"All he did was try and help you, try and make you Perfect, and what did you do? You ran away! Like a stupid little coward, afraid of his own shadow—"

His hands folded into fists at his side. The walkman at his hip clicked to play but no sound came out. Cold fingers scrambled to shut it off.

"Getting to be a Suit, powerful and free, but no. He was going to give you to Goldy, too, but you weren't ready, you weren't there. Instead Daddy got locked away and that Gift Giver took control again."

"So what? Puppet's gone." Max went for casual, for unbothered. "We're the only Suits left. Fredbear's gone, too."

Circus Baby's smile widened, sick and amused, and it irritated him to no end.

"And yet here we are, hiding in the dark and unable to be ourselves because of one stupid little night guard. He's a coward too, you know. He runs and hides just like you." She chuckled, then added on, "He's no better than you, Mikey."

"Don't talk about him like that." He bit his tongue too late, and cursed himself when her green optics alighted on him with a look of intrigue and slyness.

"No? Why not? Because you don't want me to, Mikey?" When he didn't answer, she went on. "Do you like him? Is he so special? Everyone bleeds the same, big brother."

"My name's Max now, Henri. Either get to your point or I'm going back inside. And I'm coming back with Mike and the original four and my Suit. And from where I'm standing, Scraptrap and I can trump you just like we always could. You may have been Dad's favorite but I'm the oldest, remember?"

"I remember." Circus Baby scowled briefly, the expression on her horrible and metal features cracking like a mirror before she smoothed them over.

"It's what you don't remember that interests me. Fine. Maybe I haven't been around as long as you, but I've learned things." She picked at one of her jagged sections of plating, the color clueing him in that it might have belonged to Ballora at one point. "What about you? What have you learned, 'Max'?"

"None of your business. And you stay away from Mike."

"It's hard to stay away from that sound, though. It's so…inviting. Promising. Is there going to be a party soon? Is this place going to be filled…with children?" and his little sister's tone was suddenly less her and more robotic. Hungry, downright ravenous even. She leaned forward, her fans whirring and frame clicking as she began to get excited just at the thought of luring children into her reach and—

Max's stomach lurched.

"I'm warning you, Henrietta." He snapped, relieved when she actually flinched back. He still had it. Even without Scraptrap, he had it. "You start anything, and Scraptrap and I will finish it. And you."

"You're no fun anymore, big brother." The animatronic pouted playfully as she leaned back and rested more fully in the corner. A submissive enough gesture. Good.

Max pressed his lips flat, and studied her more closely. He was glad she hadn't called his bluff. Well, it was half bluff. He wasn't kidding when he warned her over Mike. The guy was kind of an idiot, but he was friendly and warm. And he was Freddy's now. If nothing else, Max wanted to protect the night guard for Freddy, even if neither knew it, even Freddy still hated him. And…some small part of him could not let go of Mike himself, the way the older man had grinned at him. Digging out his cassettes Bonnie had kept, trusting him to be on his side when he interrogated Molten Freddy earlier.

The problem was Dad though, like it always had been. He needed Springtrap lured here. He's was pretty sure Mike was hoping for that too. Circus Baby had followed the sounds only Suits and some animatronics could hear. It was how he and Scraptrap had found their way to the new restaurant, after all. She must have been following Ennard after she got kicked out of the hivemind, and that naturally lead her closer to hear the restaurant's call. If he was lucky, Springtrap would be following her, might even be headed this way already. But if she got away, she'd warn Dad, no questions asked there. If she was taken down before she could tell them anything she knew, they'd regret it as soon as Springtrap and Afton appeared. And she must know something, she had to. He could feel it. Henrietta always knew things and didn't tell people. She liked manipulating people, and Circus Baby even more so.

Protecting Mike and the original four was enough work for him and Scrap, he didn't need any more odds stacked against him.

"Don't come in, Henrietta. I'm serious." And now for the cherry on top of the sundae he knew she couldn't resist. "And whatever you do, the old warehouse is absolutely off limits. Don't even look at it."

"Why?" she demanded, optics flashing greedily, taking the bait hook, line and sinker. He had to keep his grin away to keep the ploy up. "What's in there? Something good?"

"Nothing you need to know about, or get into." He shoved as much indifference and dislike into his tone as he could muster. "Okay? Seriously. Don't."

Even with her size, it would take more brains than muscle getting into the warehouse. Once she did she was at least contained, too. He'd just have to make sure he relocked what she picked open. He wasn't worried about Molten Freddy or the useless Rockstars.

'She and the other Funtimes are still fighting, I'll bet my walkman on it. Henrietta isn't gunna apologize; she isn't gunna make nice with them. Maybe I can pit them against each other. Give me and Mike a better chance at coming out of this whole mess alive. Erh, well Mike alive."

It was worth a shot, anyway.

"What are you going to do about your new pet, that night guard?" Damn, he had hoped the warehouse was enough to keep her distracted. But, no. Henrietta always wanted what other kids had. Didn't really help Dad had showered her with anything she could ever want, either. That hadn't changed. Circus Baby ended up being a strong, stable and deadly Suit. He and Scraptrap were given yesterday's scrapes and told to piss off. Something's never changed.

"I'm going to keep him away from you lot, because this isn't about him." Max snapped before he could stop himself. Double damn.

"Did he tell you that?" asked his baby sister, her voice older than it should be for the age she died at. "Or are you assuming things again, stupid?"

Now, that? That caught him off guard. What did she…?

"…what?" he managed, eyeing her as if she'd sprouted another head.

"Nothing." Henrietta rose finally, showing how much taller she was than Max now.

"Did you know Freddy models are his favorite, Mikey? They are. Just like Uncle Henry." She stayed still but leaned her head down toward him, the wires of her odd pigtail tufts bobbing lazily.

"So he'd never want a Bonnie model like you around. He doesn't need you."

"He doesn't, huh?" Max squared up calmly at his little and bigger sister. "And I suppose you all do?"

"We're your family, big brother. We need you. Family stays together."

The problem was, as much as he wanted to deny it, the concept was…distracting. He was lonely. He had Scraptrap, but he couldn't just keep going as he was. Mom was gone and Dad wasn't gunna be saved, he was certain about that. But having his sister back…

He'd lost Alex and Artie for good, after all. How much did he have left? Why was the concept of killing his father so much easier to swallow than Circus Baby, who seemed just as unstable and vicious, right to the very bottom of her code? Because even now, staring in the dark into her emerald optics, he could remember. She was still his baby sister. He held her when she was born. He read about sudden infant death syndrome and slept in her nursery for a week.

When she learned to crawl, he was the first one she'd seek out.

And now?

The monster wearing his sister as both shield and weapon smiled viciously at him, in terrible promise.

'Why can't I ever save someone like I'm supposed to? Dad was right. I am a screw up…'

"Family stays together, huh?" He parroted with an angry look that his sister ignored.

"Mother and Father both used to say that." As if he needed reminding!

"Yeah, well, she's not here and as far as I'm concerned, he checked out a long time ago too."

"Brat." Circus Baby called after him, but she watched him walk away.

He was too proud to run.


He made it safely back to Parts and Services, and was glad he no longer had a gag reflex. He wanted to throw up.

Scraptrap took one look at his expression and wobbly frame, and immediately tried to rise.

"I'mokay," Max rushed out in one creaky breath, trying to calm himself and his bunny, "F-fuck, dammit. Henri. It was Henrietta, Scraptrap."

The bunny growled, but realized the kid's headphones were up, and he was shaking like a leaf. Max's panic attacks were less common these days, and music always kept the kid grounded, but this time…things felt different. For a beat, Scrap almost wished that night guard was here. He seemed the type to comfort even if he couldn't understand, and Max needed all the security he could get right now. In the same thought, he was equally glad Mike wasn't here, because Mike usually had Freddy looming after him like an over-protective shadow, and Freddy was the last one they needed to see this situation.

Scraptrap settled back down slowly, but his optics lowered into a tight glare. It lessened a fraction when he gestured 'Come here' and his boy obeyed, stumbling to his side where he collapsed like a house of cards. Seconds later and he was leaning heavily onto Scrap's hollow frame, each seeking comfort from the other. The green and yellow rabbit leaned right back, speakers crackling softly with an attempt to soothe the shaken teenager. It worked, because it always did. Scrap was pleased when the kid finally removed his headphones, and paused his music. He seemed calmer already, but he kept close, hiding in the shadow of the bot's frame. If he wasn't currently being worked on, Scraptrap knew the kid would have climbed into him already, and put them in Suit mode.

Scraptrap allowed him as much time as he could to regain his nerves, and as Max's panic cleared from his features, he signed so the teen could see.

'Want-what?' A wise question, but Max had to calm down before he had the energy to answer. He shook his head, ran a frustrated hand through his grey-blonde mop.

"I can't fucking figure it out, man. She said the restaurant called her here. Well, we know that's true. It called us."

'Yes.' Scraptrap signed, then huffed thoughtfully. 'You—mad.'

"…I am, y-yeah. Sorry. Did you feel it?" Even apart, they always felt the other, emotions and thoughts and hopes. "Sorry." He apologized again.

"She…threatened Mike. And I couldn't chase her off, either. Even if I did, Scrap, the restaurant would lure her back. She knows its gunna open soon. I dunno where Dad is. But he…he can't be far. You can't hear anything outside?"

'Lead.' Answered his friend simply. He was pretty sure, anyway. He knew it wasn't his ears malfunctioning.

"…dammit. Okay. Well, good news then for us, means Bonnie can't either." Still, that brought another nagging thought to the forefront of Max's mind. "…so, so then how did she call me out there? You heard her too. But you can't hear through lead."

'Dunno.' Scraptrap signed a shorthand gesture for the phrase, one Max and he used often.

"…great. Either she's developing more powers now that she's out running around by herself as a Suit, or…" Max trailed off, forcing down another shiver.

Because, no. Uh-uh. That was impossible. It had to be.

"There was only one other animatronic that could mimic voices perfectly, Scrap."

Grimly, Scraptrap caught on, and nodded. Then he moved his creaky paws, and making the fingers dance as he pretended to be a puppet master guiding his puppet along a set of strings. The normally cute gesture was more chilling than if Afton himself had ripped the door off its hinges and stormed in.

"…oh, god. Fuck." Max whimpered and covered his eyes, trying to block out the rest of the world except for his bunny.

"Let's hope it was just her. It's gotta be. It can't be Game Over for us yet, Scrap." Max begged for both of them.

"We're so close."


This is fine. Everything's fine. :)