Author's Note: While I'm half disappointed with Security Breach, I'm also half pleased with it. It certainly has given me a lot of fodder to work with. With SB in mind, I've made some new choices with how I'm ending Last Shift. It's…well, you'll find out. See you at the end.

Warnings: major character death, violence against humans, mostly ghostly antics


Evil returns to the evil doer.


Act IV.
Chapter 22. Home Before Dark

Let it be said Mike was nothing if not quick thinking.

In the time it took for the Rockstars to start lumbering at them, intending to box them in as Fredbear stooped closer and began to open his maw, Mike grabbed Max's arm and yanked them both to one side of the rapidly narrowing hall. By luck, Foxy was on one end, to the left. Mike's free hand scooped up his flashlight, and this earned a livid roar but ultimately Mike was too fast and Fredbear too slow. He and Max ducked into Foxy's blind side and even avoided the hook that swung upwards, whizzing by as they cleared the cluster of murderous and mindless animatronics. And by then Mike had them both at the corner and around it, and he flung them into one of the cleaning rooms, shutting and locking the door as the floor thudded.

But only Bonnie and Chica thundered by, judging by the limp and the bristling, awful squawk Mike could make out as he pressed his ear to the door. He thanked his lucky stars they hadn't bothered to check into any of the rooms, but that too made him realize something was Off. Something was strange. Then it hit him.

"Great, I think they've been reset." Mike groaned, then weighed his options. "Dammit."

"Reset?" Max hissed.

"Bonnie's limping again. He thinks he's in his old body, maybe even at the old restaurant. It may have been the manager using the gang to hunt night guards and punish them, but the Marionette and Gold let it happen." Encouraged it, even. Mike didn't like to think about that.

"Uncle Henry somehow scrambled their hard drives then?" Max tried. "He's making them think it's, what, the 90s again? He didn't even touch them!"

"The golden rule here at Freddy's, Max." Mike sighed. "Whoever has Golden Freddy makes the rules."

Still…

Mike squinted into the dark of the room, eyeing the two tall ears beside Max and then focused on the silvery optics illuminated just by Max's hair. Staring back at him, Scraptrap blinked once in recognition. But there was no awkwardness in his stance, no aggression in his gentle look.

"Except you, apparently. Now how did you avoid Gold's pull?" Mike asked Scraptrap as if he could reply as easily as the question was asked. The bunny only cocked his head, hears bobbing to one side as he rumbled softly back at Mike. And then shrugged.

"Uh, Springtrap actually…might be the cause of that." Max sounded unsure but he tacked on, "Or is the one to thank, really."

"Springtrap?" Mike almost forgot to keep his voice down. "When did you talk to Spring, is he alright?"

Max shifted from sneaker to sneaker, and tugged at his headphone cord.

"Only if 'alright' can mean 'out of his misery', and kind of 'out of yours,' then, yeah." Max looked torn between being somber and relieved. "Not for long though, at least, I don't think much will keep Dad from coming back."

Sensing a story, Mike nodded, his face set and lips thin. He checked the door, and the trio was forced to wait in dead silence as another animatronic wandered by, and judging by the speed it was Foxy. Even worse, he was moving the opposite way the other two had—which meant he'd already circled the building from the other direction.

"We better be careful." Mike warned as he pulled away from the door quietly as he could muster. "They'll expect a security guard in the Office, not any other room. At least, that's what I'm hoping for. You better fill me in, kid, but make it fast. We're on a time crunch."


It was weird, moving through the fog. It was even weirder trying to think through it.

And besides, who had ever heard of yellow fog?

Foxy snarled in irritation at it all, at the situation. He snarled at the damn rabbit when he got to close, he snarled at every little noise he couldn't place and creak under his metal feet that might have given him away. But the noise was empty and absent as he lumbered forward, trying to save old legs that were no longer under him. Still, that's what he thought was Real. Because it had to be, because the leader said so, and no one dared question Fredbear, the original animatronic. Every mechanical, half-halted jerk of his servos made phantom whines and creaks that weren't there anymore. He had obeyed the lead animatronic, pounding down the hall at break neck speed, but no one and nothing had come running out and fled old Foxy's courageous, charging might. So naturally, he gone and pounded on the door to the Office, but that didn't yield any grand results either. He wondered about trying a different tactic, but received nothing but a growl and warning of Parts and Service for his belligerence.

Since when was it belligerent to think?

Ah well. Foxy supposed it didn't matter. The haze his cameras and their lens were trying to peer through seemed to get hazier. Stronger.

Nothing mattered, except Finding. Not a blasted thing.

The joint was so big though, and every look up into the bright lights made him jerk and scowl away, seeking out the dark places. The restaurant, their restaurant, seemed…bigger than normal. Which was strange. No, he needed to regroup. He needed to go somewhere small and tight and safe. He could figure this all out once he was where he was programmed to be. Yes! That was it. Somewhere safe. And dark.

Like his Cove.

Aye, that'd be the best place to buckle down and wait for the cameras! Let the rabbit and the chicken be the ones to stress the night guard, and then when the power was low, Foxy could swoop in and hammer at the door. He was no good at sneak attacks like old Faz. His specialty was loud, fast, and hard.

So Foxy lumbered to where his Cove was on his map.

Only it wasn't there. Nowhere at all, in fact.

Foxy stared at the curtains he'd busted through, snarling unhappily.

That didn't…make sense. None of this made a lick of sense! His anger broiled up higher, fighting and tangling with the yellow haze. He was sure his Cove would be right here in fact…it had to be! So why in blazes wasn't it? The haze seemed to thin, losing its fight in his overworked and stressed out processors. But in its place built up that oh-so familiar irate, heavy, blood-red anger. Foxy finally halted, eyeing the room he'd forced through, his jaw swinging down widely as he twitched erratically. Shelves and cleaning supplies and random items. Nothing familiar. Nothing he wanted or needed to see. Some thing was the matter here. A gleam of purple caught his good eye and he snarled, bearing his teeth and hook and claws as he stomped forward. That was it! Purple! He had to get it! He had to—

"No, Foxy, no! Stop! Stop!" someone shouted, pleaded even. He grinned wider, because Foxy like it when they struggled, when they panicked and blubbered.

"Alex, DON'T!" shouted a second voice. And that voice caught him.

So did hands, cold and clammy and Foxy froze, blinking in the stark, sudden absence of the haze and feeling his cameras ease up on their frantic cycling. His optics rolled down, the orange bright and lively once more. Foxy growled in confusion, but stayed still in the grip of whoever it was that was hugging his raised arm with his hook.

He stared down at Mike, then looked over at Max and relaxed slowly as the events filled in correctly. Mike had been the purple streak, featureless and almost mistaken for the Purple Man. Funnily enough Max, though the suspended corpse was more violet tinted than Mike ever was, didn't register at all to Foxy's haze filled eyes earlier. Almost like he didn't exist to Foxy, or whoever had told him to come find the Purple Man in the first place. He could see clearer now though, and think better too.

"…me thanks, matey." Foxy finally uttered, and he let relief creep along the edges of his words. "Couldn't live with meself if I hurt our lad."

"Neither could your lad," Mike joked weakly, his sides heaving as he tried to relax too, his hand over his heart. "I may be in better shape than I was but I'm not exactly running off Goldy anymore."

"How'd you do that? Alex ain't in me no more." Foxy asked the eldest Afton child, giving Mike a moment.

"I, I dunno. I just…didn't think. I just wanted you to stop. To be you again." Max's cheeks tinted a dark purple. "I know Alex isn't in you anymore but I just…couldn't help it. You guys were together for so long."

"I think I know," Mike grunted finally. "And if I'm right, we're gunna need you to do that to the other three, or our butts are gunna be shoved into teddy bear suits."

Scraptrap made an offended noise, and Mike managed a snort.

"Believe me, there's only one bear I'll be shoved into, and while I love Freddy, it's not him." Mike agreed strictly.

"We need to get you two back together, matey." Foxy rumbled with a curt nod. "Ye be lookin' pale as Death. Pardon the term, lad" he actually tossed to Max, who blinked but shrugged, unoffended.

"I'll be fine for now, Foxy, promise." Mike brushed the fox's worries off. "We need to get the gang back on our side first, because if we're not careful we'll end up—crap,"

The other three turned to see the tall ears filling the door. The amount of noise they'd been making came abundantly clear in that moment, although all of them clearly wished they'd thought of it earlier. Scraptrap and Foxy both tensed, but didn't start a fight just yet.

"Hey kids! Pirate's Cove is off-offfff limits!" Bonnie's canned voice declared in over the top delight. "Why don't you come with me? Your old pal Bonnie will play with you!"

"Max?" Mike hissed out of the corner of his mouth, shifting subtly and watching Bonnie's black gaze lock onto him instantly.

"Y-yeah?"

"This isn't really how I wanted to test Scrap's new coding, but life rarely gives us choices when we want them. Ready?"

"No," Max shivered, "But, yeah. Three?"

Mike nodded, then stepped back. Bonnie stepped forward. He seemed totally ignorant of the other two animatronics, or the human edging behind Foxy so that he could sneak around.

"One…"

Another step from both Mike and Bonnie. The bunny's step was bigger, though it was clear he was intending to block the doorway incase Mike tried escaping through it. There were no other openings Bonnie had to worry about, so he kept his attention on Mike almost fully.

"Two."

Max's sneaker squeaked, and then Bonnie's ear twitched Scrap quickly jostled a set of shelves, causing enough ruckus the lavender tinted bunny hesitated, seeming to have an inner debate with himself before Mike pretended to jerk in one direction. Max made it further in that moment, and was just with arm's reach when Bonnie refocused onto Mike with a glare and tensed up.

"Three!"

Mike ducked just in case, but Max was there in time to shove his headphones on either side of the bunny's speakers, having taken advantage of the duck Bonnie did to try and snatch Mike. Max hit play, cranking the dial up to 10. Even from his spot on the floor against the wall Mike could hear Aerosmith crowing from the worn speakers. Bonnie sprang to his full height in alarm, screeching in anger until he paused and quieted, shaking himself a few times as if to dislodge the headphones before he halted again and blinked. Mike sagged in relief when the cherry shade was back in his friend's optics, and motioned for Max to take his headphones back, which the corpse did quickly.

"Sorry, dude," Max winced as Bonnie pulled at an ear. "I didn't know what else would snap you out of it so well. But since you always loved my music…"

"Kid, I do, and it was a great plan. But, holy gumdrops, I'm gunna need new receivers in these things" Bonnie groaned and fretted over his ears with tugs of his paws. "…anyone else hear a ringing?"

"Buck up, rabbit." Foxy comforted, kind of.

"Two down." Mike sighed.

"Two to go." Max finished. "Where to next?"

"Chica's in the kitchen, right Bonnie?"

"Why you asking me? I couldn't hear a bomb go off at the moment," Bonnie complained, but he nodded as Scraptrap knocked on an invisible door with his paw, signaling 'Yes.'

"C'mon, Max." Mike motioned. "Stick close."

"Stay here, Scraptrap." Max warned, ignoring the bunny's worried warble but allowing his bunny to shadow him to the threshold. Still, he allowed the corpse to leave and waited obediently as Mike and Max slunk toward the far back of the restaurant.

Max and Mike edged around the hall to the kitchen doors, both taut and tense as they watched Rockstar Chica push through with the same mindless, lumbering intent the other two band members had displayed. The doors rocked closed with a clang, but thankfully Freddy was nowhere to be found. Small miracles, Mike decided, his jaw clenched tight as he tried to spot the perfect time to catch Chica's attention. She wasn't as fast as Foxy but she wouldn't limp like Bonnie would have. She was dangerous enough on her own but Cakey's extra eyes meant she could check on things in different directions, almost as well as Mangle. It was pure luck Mike had played so often with Mangle that he knew how to account for an extra set of eyes.

"This is so much like my first week here that it's getting spooky," Mike whispered to the teenager beside him, who cast him a disturbed look but tried to remain focused.

"So, wait, all that was true? The gang tried to murder you before you became a Suit? Freddy really did, what, pile drive you into a table?"

"Well, to be fair, Foxy never tried. Freddy, he threw me, actually." Mike hummed in absent correction as they inched closer, trying to stick what little shadows there were in this brightly lit and shiny restaurant. "Broke about half my ribs I think. Luckily Marion put me back together, otherwise I would've been—okay, here she is."

Though Max looked like he wanted to know more about the rest of Mike's history, he nodded and set into action, moving swiftly away from Mike's position in time with the night guard's long steps to the other side of the hall. And then he made a commotion, arms waving and all, grinning when Chica whirled on him with a loud sharp, click of her beak.

"Hey Chica-beaka, lookin' fer someone~?" Mike teased, keeping all his attention on her to avoid any suspicions on the animatronic chicken's part. "Here I aaam,"

She growled, and advanced with more speed than Bonnie had. Mike had suspected correctly, and he was glad he warned Max ahead of time. It meant the kid had seconds to grab her from behind and grip tight, and this time Mike could see the surge of violet that flicked from his eyes before he shut them tight and hugged Chica round her middle. She half halted and staggered to one side, awkwardly braced on the wall as her systems reset. Her jaw relaxed wider to display her extra teeth as the three waited, with Mike holding his breath.

Her pretty pink eyes dropped down into place and she righted herself a bit, looking around in confusion for a moment.

"Oh! Phew, I almost got you!" She moaned in concern, and then fretted over Mike. "You are okay, aren't you, chickadee?"

"I'll be alright." Mike assured with his familiar grin. "Just got to avoid getting murked before we can get Goldy back to me, are you okay?"

"A little tired but my battery will hold." Chica answered, then seemed to truly take in stock of everything and everyone. She glanced down at Max who was still half under her arm and giggled as the kid flushed in embarrassment and released her with a nervous cough. Chica just smiled at him warmly.

"Did you wake me up, Max?" Chica guessed fondly. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Long story." Mike cut in, "but we'll fill you in as we go. First things first, we need to find Freddy. You guys are acting like you used to, and with your new bodies, he could do a lot of damage if we're not careful."

"To you, especially." Chica warned. "Mike—Henry didn't want us just to stuff you. He wanted us to bring you to him. I have no idea why but…"

"Oh he did, did he? Then I think I know where Freddy is. And why he hasn't come to get me himself. So if that old jerk wants me, then I guess I'll be cordial and oblige." Mike muttered angrily as he led them to the supplies room where the others were waiting.

"Then we'd just be walking right into a trap, dude. Bad idea." Max pointed out.

"Yeah, good point. Then I'll be the one walking in. As for you two…" Mike eyed Max and Scrap and his smirk returned.

"You two will be crawling…" Mike motioned everyone in. "Alright gang, here's the plan."

"Listen close, kid," Bonnie warned with a hint of levity to his young tone. "You're about to learn how the scarecrow here managed to survive all these years. Goldy might have been the brawn, but it takes two to make a Suit~"


Walking into the lion's den was never meant to be on the list of easy things to do.

But it was even worse when you knew one of the lion's personally, and more importantly knew in the center of your heart said lion would rather die than harm you.

Even worse that in this case, the lion didn't have a choice. And Mike knew Freddy well enough to know that if the old bear managed to harm him or worse, Freddy wouldn't ever forgive himself.

Mike edged into Parts and Services, his face grim and dark as he eyed the towering Fredbear for a beat. He tried to keep the disgust from his glare but failed, so he checked on Fazbear instead, who stood beside the oldest animatronic with an uncharacteristic, vacant stare.

"THE COWARD RETURNS…FUNNY, I THOUGHT ONE OF THEM WOULD BRING YOU KICKING AND SCREAMING….GUESS NOT."

"Freddy?" Mike called, voice soft in the dark and creepy room. "Everything's gunna be okay, big guy. No matter what happens, I promise I won't blame you."

"HE CAN'T HEAR YOU, YOU KNOW."

Those empty black holes that were in place of Freddy's normally warm, blue eyes did little to soothe Mike's nerves. Freddy made no movement, gave zero signal that he'd even registered Mike's voice. The night guard refocused on Fredbear, on Henry, and eyed his edges. They thinned ever so often, the shimmering glow wobbling in the dark room.

"Not so easy running the big guy is it, old man?" He mocked, grinning when his words earned him a low growl. "No worries, I get it. You could end this all right now but handing him back over."

"I DON'T HAVE TO DO IT FOR MUCH LONGER. JUST LONG ENOUGH TO RETIRE YOU AND THEN PUT TO REST THE LAST AFTON. THEN, MY JOB WILL BE DONE."

"So you really think that's End Game, huh." It wasn't a question and Mike leaned on one hip and folded his arms. "That you can just pretend history never happened? Or that it won't happen again if someone isn't there to be vigilant? Look, I've heard of stubborn ghosts but this goes beyond the pale. I can't do any good if I'm dead, and neither can Max! He's trying so hard to be better than what he was born from! Doesn't that count for something!?"

Mike edged closer as he said this, trying to keep the clock running, trying to buy them time.

"What you want to do, though? This is stupid, Henry, and deep down I think you know that."

"WHAT'S STUPID IS HOW LONG IT'S TAKING TO KILL YOU, BOY!"

Mike hesitated, and when Fredbear jabbed a paw at him and ordered Fazbear to bring Mike to him by whatever means necessary, the man turned and bolted.

"Okay, not what I was hoping for," Mike groaned as Freddy crashed through the doorway behind him and swiped, narrowly missing his back. Mike spared a look over his shoulder, jumping when Freddy's paw swept so close fingers brushed his jacket. "He won't face me himself but I'm the coward?"

The third grab earned Freddy his prize, and he clutched tight and lifted Mike back off his boots, giving him a wide shake. On instinct to survive, Mike yanked his arms free and hit the ground, rolling onto his back to watch Freddy toss his coat and lurch the remaining feet between them, grumbling under his speakers as he did. He was so focused on the graceless crab walk back to avoid Freddy's stomping, he barely noticed the sound of metal scraping softly from behind the Rockstar model, or the soft pop of springlocks. Mike did however, notice the purple blur that scrambled in-between them, as Mike quickly stood up to get Max out of there just in case Freddy didn't snap out of it in time—

But Freddy had frozen. Max had frozen too, shaking hands holding both sides of the shiny, painted plastic face, the same way Mike softened touched or teased him. And though Max didn't need to breathe anymore his sides were heaving with anxiety and fear as if he didn't believe his little gambit would work. Freddy's eyes returned with a sudden click, and he eased back out of Max's hands, but his own paws came up, holding the teen's wrists. The touch looked gentle, or least Mike hoped it was.

"…thank you, Max." Freddy grunted in relief, watching the glow of purple die down in the kid's eyes to their normal, softer hue. "That was a close one."

"You guys won't turn again, will you?" Max worried as Mike joined his side to check on Freddy as well.

"We spend too long near him we will." Freddy rumbled with a frustrated shake of his head. "Can't ignore that pull. He's the boss."

"He only be half the boss," Foxy muttered as the others joined them, heading for the biggest room in the restaurant. "Henry ain't done nuthin' to earn our loyalties in the last few years. Heck, he's been dead fer most of em. But the Cap'n's got a point. We won't be any use to you two if we turn and bite ya without a moment's notice."

"Then you guys need to get out of here, and I mean the restaurant. Go wait in the warehouse. I can open the back door, the flashlight should work for that much," Mike spotted Security's present box on the stage and grabbed it, feeling by the shifting weight the little puppet model was safe inside. He intended to keep it that way.

"Without Fredbear it won't, son." Freddy reminded, until he saw the quick, sheepish glance away from his night guard. "…Michael. What did you do now?"

"Me?" Mike tried for innocent, though it didn't last long. "Okay, look, I know this is gunna sound bad, but I might've brought back—"

"THERE YOU ARE! THIS ENDS HERE, BOY!"

"You hear that?" Bonnie suddenly asked, glancing at Scraptrap who was behind Max, the bunny's ears pricking in the direction. He nodded with a chuffing noise and edged farther behind Max as if to hide.

"What?" Max demanded, and watched his bunny model stretch out his bare finger joints, and wriggling the spread fingers before motioning both paws in tight circles. "Wait, fire!?"

"Oh, great," Bonnie groaned, "As if we didn't have enough to deal with!"

"That'd certainly end everything, though." Mike muttered, eyeing Fredbear's triumphant smile, stained teeth bared and all.

Golden Freddy stormed closer to him, but Mike held his ground, even glanced around him sharply, as if checking something. He'd moved on purpose earlier, keeping Fredbear focused fully on him as he backed up toward the front of the empty area between the stage and the tables, leaving SP box on a table.

"NO WHERE TO RUN AND HIDE NOW."

Freddy straightened when he realized, turning to regard the man calmly and quietly as something seemed to click into place for the old bear. Mike met his gaze and nodded, mouthing the words, 'trust me,' before answering the towering animatronic, fearless and defiant.

"C'mon, old man! You wanted the night guard!" Mike prompted proudly, arms spread wide in mock welcome as he backed up until the stage was behind him. They shivered.

Mike smirked at Fredbear, who actually paused as if realizing something was up.

"Even without Gold I'm a packaged deal, remember? I wasn't alone those five nights." Mike put two fingers to his lips and whistled, the noise shrill and sharp. The lead animatronic laughed mockingly at him when he heard it, and even the gang looked stunned and surprised. SP peeked from her box, drawing their attention for a second. Mike wasn't looking at her though, he was grinning viciously at Fredbear. She vanished into her box with a cry of alarm suddenly, as if sensing something.

The room was darkening.

And then the Fazes and Max noticed the shadows bleeding out from behind Mike, long slithering forms curling up and out from under the suddenly shifting curtains.

Nightmaronnie erupted from the suddenly blown open drapes, stepping into the center of the stage on twisted, slender legs as it loomed over them all. It screeched at Fredbear without remorse or hesitation, the sound bone chilling and cruel, casting one glance at Mike before leveling its livid glare onto Golden Freddy again, who clenched its huge mitts tight and grumbled back.

Golden lunged at them both, but Nightmaronnie sprung deftly over Mike, choosing to crash head long into the bigger animatronic as Mike scrambled to the side, his part done. He snatched up SP's box on his way back to the group's side. Nightmaronnie shrieked and bullied the bear back, catching the force mid step and forcing him to rebalance or topple entirely. The stripped limbs sprung out and wriggled, coiling tightly to distract and enrage the already over worked and angry Fredbear, who howled. The Puppet was much better at evading the heavier animatronic even as the possessed Goldy crashed through a series of tables and chairs, wood splintering and flying everywhere as it chased the quicker creature. Nightmaronnie twisted upwards like silk and crackled aggressively in mocking, scuttling along the ceiling upside down before dropping back down like a spider on the incensed Fredbear just before he could spot Mike again.

"Let's go, everyone out!" Mike motioned, "While he's distracted!" He eyed the original four's frozen, empty bodies on the stage and winced, shaking his head. No time. The fire was getting worse by leaps and bounds, smoke was already filling the room as it trickled in from other parts of the building. More than one spark had been set, and it was quickly growing into one huge fire. They'd be running out of all the Exits if they wasted the small window he and Marion had given them.

By the time the original four were through the back room, Mike paused, hearing a sound he didn't like.

"Mari's in trouble. You guys go ahead, get out of here," Mike ushered, trying to make sure Henry hadn't noticed.

"Oh no," On cue, Fazbear protested and stopped to turn. In response, Mike shoved Security Puppet's box into his arms, forcing him to take it and the animatronic hidden inside. Mike ripped off the blue band and shoved it through under the lid before anyone could stop him.

"Freddy!" Mike growled, "Go! I may not have Gold anymore but I know I can help. If you guys get taken over again, then it will be game over for me and Max, even Marion. Out, and trust me, please. Hey," He gripped Rockstar Freddy's painted red cheeks in both hands, playful but fierce.

"I'll make it out. I promise." He rubbed his thumb over the spot once but removed it, knowing if he hesitated any longer he'd let Freddy change his mind. There was no time.

Why did it always come down to time?

"…you better, Michael Schmidt." Freddy warned, low and unhappy as he let himself and the others be sent out of both Fredbear and the fire's war path.

Mike returned, realizing the fire was burning in a widening circle, and it seemed to be following a strange wall around the smoke filled room. He bent low and covered his mouth to move through the worst of it, but found clear air near the center of the two animatronic's fight.

'As long as Mari can keep the fire off us, the rest will just have to burn.' Perhaps, though, that would be for the better.

Mike spared a worried glance when the Puppet was caught and pinned, but its clawing limbs and lashing strings allowed it some room to crawl free, especially when it wrenched hard on Goldy's already slightly loose jaw and hurried slipped out. Scraptrap tried helping, but he was hollow and lighter and one back hand sent him into the arcade machines with a crashing sound, his optics were still online at least. Another grab at the agile creature earned Goldy a chair being broken across his massive head, which wasn't from Marion at all. Fredbear froze, more so in shock than any actual pain, and he turned slowly, glaring down at the caught in place Max who held the remains the two legs in his hands. Max stared owlishly back, swallowed, but stayed frozen in that piercing gaze.

"Max!"

But the corpse was stuck, trapped in that awful glare as Golden Freddy turned, keeping the hissing, valiantly struggling Nightmaronnie at bay in one grip. The other powerful paw reached eagerly for Max's throat, jaw dropping to prepare to bring him in and simply bite down, fingers gripping fistfuls of his worn shirt as the shock finally wore off and the teen yelped. Scraptrap cried out from where he'd landed into the arcades, the sound more machine than anything, but the noise was a fearful and pained one. He tugged at his stuck arm, barely managing to pull it free without leaving it behind.

Mike, however, actually heard the new sound first, and followed the familiar clanging thuds to see the curtain flutter a second time as a dark red missile cleared the entire front stage in one huge bound, aiming right for the trio.

Nightmare Foxy came down hard, scrabbling for purchase into the surprised Golden's side who immediately roared, abandoning both Max and the Puppet in favor of trying to pry off the brutal Nightmare that had collided with him. All the bear got for his troubles was his hand bitten, the big jaws sinking deep and pulling and clawing away at the suit. Fredbear tried to shoulder check him between his girth and the wall, but Foxy curled up defensively tighter and bit down even harder. Nightmare Foxy buried his claws and roared beside the animatronic's good ear, chomping and clawing and generally doing what he had always done best—making a nuisance of himself.

Golden howled again, but by the time he'd ripped off Nightmare Foxy, Nightmaronnie's strings returned, binding tight and tangling round his legs to try and trip the towering behemoth.

Scraptrap appeared suddenly, ducking the thick arm that pawed near him and shoving hard so Fredbear tripped further into the growing nest of Nightmaronnie's clutches. The bunny looked uncharacteristically furious, and when Gold started to snarl the tattered and worn Bonnie model suddenly roared louder, forcing the bear into startled silence as he stepped fully between Max and Mike. Golden Freddy halted, trying to snarl again, and loom higher as if to force his will on them all. Scraptrap shrieked and denied the pull, sneering boldly when Fredbear realized he could not control this animatronic.

The yellow Bonnie bristled as Nightmaronnie joined his side, hissing insidiously as Nightmare Foxy landed on all fours beside Scraptrap's other side and half-rose, but he too shrieked defiance and rage, spine arching.

None of these animatronics could be fully controlled by Fredbear. Scraptrap's grin widened and he stomped forward, fists out in challenge as he glared down the first Suit.

"Scrap, don't," Max tried, but Mike gripped him tight and held the teenager back.

"Let him do this." Mike argued in a whisper, "He can do this now."

Because something odd was happening.

Fredbear seemed to be having an unwinnable argument with himself. He shook his head and every threatening step forward became an odd, uneven dance backwards as the monstrosity refused to advance on them.

"Now, Mari!"

The Puppet vanished in literal blink, appearing to skip across Realty until he was clear across the smoke filled room to materialize behind Fredbear. Marion drew down and leapt back lightly, claws raking across the ground as the floor boards began to fall away and open up into a vast, horrible blackness in a perfect, huge circle.

At the very, very far bottom was a small red shape, like a bloody little lake being viewed from a great height. Something whirled and howled—the wind, Mike realized—and small items near the opening began to slide toward it, as if drawn in by an invisible whirlpool. Scraptrap, who had followed the Puppet's path with his tight gaze, set his acrylic teeth in understanding and snarled at Alexander, who nodded and bolted off across the remaining dining hall on all fours with some private destination in mind. Scraptrap himself stepped forward again, and Gold stepped back so that his swinging reach didn't harm the Bonnie model. Max spotted that, and blinked.

"Why isn't Goldy—?" Max drew back, stunned and with some hint of horror as he watched his friendly bonnie model match Fredbear's shove paw to paw and keep him from advancing. When Fredbear tried ducking around Scraptrap he was swiped at, even struck across his loose lower jaw, and Scraptrap refused to let Fredbear get near Max or Mike. Fredbear looked less and less confident as each attempt failed, and soon he began pulling away from Scraptrap.

And backing up toward the waiting, gapingly hungry portal.

"You can't have a Freddy without a Bonnie, Max." Mike's shot the kid a sad smile, then nodded to the two animatronics facing each other down.

"You ever feel grief so bad you split in two? That's what Gold's going through. Obey his Creator and kill the animatronic that was built for him or…"

"Or don't. But! But Scraptrap's…" Max paused, trailing off in wonder. He watched Scraptrap physically bully the larger animatronic back, the sight strange to see considering it was Golden Freddy himself he was going up against, so fearless and certain. "He's Springbonnie's spare fur suit…and Springtrap…"

"Saved our asses." Mike perked up when he heard a dragging noise. "Looks like Henry's own words are coming back to bite him. Can't fight your programming, not even Fredbear. Now's your shot, try and get those two apart! We may not get another chance!"

Max steeled himself, waited until Fredbear wobbled just at the edge of the great chasm the Puppet had ripped open, and lunged in.

"Sorry Uncle Henry, there's something you got that Mike needs back," Max pushed his hands in the center of the bear tight and yanked tight on the round, burning ball he felt meet his palms. At first, it didn't budge, and fear raced up Max's spine. Fredbear's arm swung wide, but suddenly metal fingers had Max round the middle. Scraptrap grunted behind him and yanked as Max held tight.

Together, he and his bunny ripped the too-bright orb from Henry's middle.

The man howled, even beyond Fredbear's initial bellow of confusion and likely some pain.

The golden light fluttered and burst apart, electrical bolts disappearing uselessly up into thin air as Gold's gaping jaw vanished last, save for the flaring ball of light that fluttered weakly in Max's hands as he fell safely back onto his bonnie model.

"IF YOU THINK I'M GOING BACK THERE ALONE, BOY—" Henry roared, staggering to try and focus his rage and anger, whirling to look for Mike, who'd slipped the opposite direction in the chaos. He'd moved to help someone in fact, and together he and Nightmare Foxy lugged Springtrap's broken, loose form toward the gaping wide circle. Mike let go of Springtrap and darted round the hole to met Henry halfway, grabbing him from escaping the hole.

"Good news, Henry. Your positions been filled, and you won't be alone." Mike grinned and together he and Henry watched as Springtrap and William both went into the pit. The Marionette cackled in wicked eagerness.

"Say hello to your old friend," Mike muttered then jerked, blinking when Henry's hand caught the front of his shirt just as Mike shoved Henry.

"Why? We'll be going to see him together, night guard," Henry spit, letting himself fall on purpose now, and yanking Mike hard, with him into the emptiness that waited below. Even Nightmare Foxy, who was closest, tried to jump for Mike but wasn't fast enough.

The Marionette, however, was faster, and it shrieked and sprung after Mike without a second thought, managing to slip through the rapidly closing portal as its edges seared smaller and smaller in seconds.

"Mike!" Max, having no other plan in mind but a stupid one, went to throw the bobbing ball in his hand to the man. But he was too late.

So Max tried Plan B instead.

Which meant leaping forward, stomach hitting the old linoleum, shoving the golden orb through the two foot wide opening and pulling his hand back just as it shut, and the world started back up again.

Without the Marionette's strange, psychic protection, the Fire crackled threateningly closer.

The restaurant began to decay and age once more, uncaring as the fire caught along faster due to the brittleness of the building.

Nightmare Foxy whined suddenly, staggering closer to the two remaining souls before slumping, his body beginning to fade and sizzle away. He toppled across the moldy floor and seemed to deflate with a low groan of exhaustion. He nudged his muzzle up at the door as if to tell Max to go, to run. But run to where? The fire had circled them too well by now. There was no way out. Uncle Henry had gotten his way after all, Max decided tiredly.

"Alex?" Max knew, could tell what was happening. "Alex, we did it! Dad's gone! No matter what happens to me, I'm proud of you, okay!? And, and even Arthur and Henrietta would be too. It's okay, Al…"

He wished he could have hugged the kid or something, or had longer with him. But he didn't. He watched the Nightmare fade quietly as the fire wandered ever closer. Nightmare Foxy's fever bright optics were the last thing Max could make out, sizzling in the darkness before they too, molded into the orange flames surrounding them.

"See ya later, little brother…"

Alexander was gone, and this time, he was not coming back.

Something in Max gave way, like so many bricks tumbling out from under a bridge. His hand that had been holding Fredbear's spirit burned in the short time he'd held onto it, and was blistering over. That wouldn't last long though, because they…weren't getting out of here. He accepted that. He staggered one step on his feet and then realized he didn't have it in him to walk, let alone run or push through debris or flames. Max drooped, kept upright only when he felt something gently, carefully, grab him from behind and pull him backwards. Uselessly, spent, and frankly given up, Max closed his eyes and let Scraptrap take it from here.

He didn't know if he would ever wake up again.

Somehow, he was less concerned about that than he should be. He just hoped wherever he ended up, he and Scrap would be together.

"We did do it, right?" Max mumbled, exhausted and nearly unconscious. "Dunno just…seems too good…t'be true…"

There was the sound of closing springlocks closing tightly all around him, and then nothing but fire snapping and popping, and the building caving in, bit by broken bit.

But they had done it.

Outside and overhead, thunder warned of rain to come.

Scraptrap slumped against the back of the stage, ears drooping as he watched their End slowly edge closer and closer to them. He purred, but it was mostly to comfort the now unresponsive human hiding in his frame. There was no answer.

Scraptrap paused then, looking up into the white circles of light, studying the creepy string of pearly square teeth that curved below the eyes. Shadow Freddy was just before them and the purple bear was pointing up, and Scraptrap tiredly follow the jabbing, insistent paw to watch the ceiling begin to split and crack above them. Scraptrap curled in as he heard it begin to go, bracing himself for the worst of it. Down it all came.

He'd protect Max from everything for as long as he had to.

As long as he could, anyway.

The fire burned on, higher and taller, a great big blazing yellow gash screaming up into the night sky, the black smoke making the stars hide.


It was the weirdest sense of déjà vu Mike had gone through in a while.

Because this was familiar, lying where he was—wherever that was, anyway. Lying on one side, curled up and crumpled, dragging crusted, aching eyes open as they tried to bring the world into focus. Before, he had been the one holding little Security Puppet. But now, someone was holding him, and it was big and slender, and despite the thinness to the limbs it was firm, and protective. And he felt safe, safe as he felt when Freddy hugged him, or when Gold took over. Mike eased himself up to one side, forcing an arm under his body as the sun fell over them. The sun…? Wait, no…that wasn't right.

Mike looked up, half aware of the Marionette rising tiredly as well, having broken Mike's fall through Limbo and the Afterlife. The two watched the descent of the golden orb, which wasn't the sun at all. The puppet's music box rolled quietly, starting a few absent notes up as it watched, the noise Marion often made for relief.

Mike stretched his fingers out when it was close enough, and relaxed when warmth swarmed down over his entire frame and the golden glow surged and then shrunk instantly into him. It filled the aches and the pains, molding into Mike like plaster over a crack, strengthening them back together. He didn't need to look in a mirror to know his eye was gold again, or that he had the strength of ten men.

'My Suit.' rumbled Gold's deep, soothing tenor. 'Well done, Michael.'

"Welcome home, big fella." Mike whispered, deflating back to lie in the dark, bristly grass and finally take proper stock of where they'd the hell they'd ended up. Limbo again, it seemed. Deep Limbo, too. Mari trilled when Mike offered a hand up to cup the porcelain face, rubbing a thumb over its last red cheek. He even managed a smile when the creature's strings vibrated like happy cat's tails at the touch, and the puppet melted into his affections.

"Saved my ass again, Mar." Mike thanked, realizing if he'd fallen here hard enough it wouldn't just be broken bones that he would have had to worry about. He could swim just fine, sure, but he had a feeling that red water wasn't actually water, and it wasn't some place he wanted to end up. Or someplace he would have been able to get out.

"Of course I did." Marionette replied, sounding amused and frank as ever when it addressed Mike. "You're my best friend, Michael. What else could I have done?"

"Well, when you put it like that." Mike snorted, fighting a blush. He pulled his hand back, realizing his wrists no longer twinged and that the Puppet's strings were frayed and floating into the wind once more. He sighed, realizing their little deal was over.

Honestly, Mike could have laid in the grass here for longer, half under the Puppet and entirely spent, body no longer aching in pain but rather in tired relief. But he felt the familiar nudge from the spirit in his bone and it put him on edge.

'Michael.' Gold directed him to look. Mike glanced up and to the right, peering through the thick grass along the edge of the lake.

Henry was sitting on the stump where the red Freddy shadow had been, fishing but watching them with amused interest. It seemed to take the Puppet a second to realize too, but when he did Mari immediately gave a malevolent hiss and moved to shield Mike from view, as if he was the one who needed protecting, his frayed strings arching like angry snakes.

"Henry." Mike said in calm, steady challenge as he motioned for the Puppet to stay calm. "I did what you told me to. What…one of you told me to. I think. It's hard keeping track but you uh…you look…Good."

The man looked whole. And kinder. Mike decided not to call him out. They'd both been through enough.

"All me now, son." The old man assured with a respectful nod. "The world's been set back to the way it should have been. Brought back William, and this time, he's got no body to go back to. See for yourself."

The Bonnie model that leaned out from beside Henry where he was sitting was so shiny he hurt to look at. Mike barely got a glance at him before Fredbear was just suddenly and immediately there, standing beside him and Marion. Even the puppet shifted slightly, but neither Henry, Mike nor it made a sound as Fredbear stalked at the young again model, looking dazed and stunned but hopeful. Springbonnie watched Goldy advance, and he seemed to perk up.

"There you are, my Goldy-bear." Springtrap may have looked like Springbonnine in this world—his bow shiny and his ears perfect and lively—but he sounded like the Springtrap Mike had come to know. Calm, tired, and voice soft. Still, it was full of a deeper emotion when he addressed Fredbear.

"I know you wanted me back, but that isn't going to be possible anymore. Perhaps it is for the better. I think you'll be alright with my replacement. I choose him myself for you. Let me look at you in this light, how old you've gotten~ Still brave and big as ever, though, aren't you?" Mike was startled to hear the bunny teasing his Animatronic, then melted when he felt Gold's warmth and affection from across the clearing.

Henry turned away from the two, letting them have their private moment. He jiggled the fishing rod, then eyed Mike once more.

"Been pulling on strings, boy. Got us all into trouble." Henry spoke, and his eyes glinted in interest when Marion folded back over Mike once more and refused to budge this time, possessive as ever.

Mike winced, then deflated, shoulders lowering in shame. Before he could apologize however, Henry suddenly spoke up again.

"And? It got us out of trouble, too. I'll be damned if I know how you did it, but you did get the Marionette from me. Set it straight, even. Taught it some humanity. So I'm gunna give you some good advice, and I suggest you take it. You pull on them strings one final time. See where they lead. Imagine what might happen, if it's only you that does it? Say…" Henry glanced across the water, watching the scarlet waves ripple and bubble briefly before smoothing over. As if something had struggled to get out but couldn't.

"You ever heard the story bout the Velveteen Rabbit?"

Mike paused, then closed his hanging open mouth, lest he come across as rude.

"I…uh…I have. Sure." He glanced warily from Henry to the Marionette, and realized the Puppet was gone. Fear spiked his heart and he rose in concern, casting around desperately.

"Mari!?" He called, as frantic as his aching, spent soul could muster. No answer. He frowned at the surrounding forest and then eyed the old man fishing again.

"Gone back up there. Make sure you've got a body to go back to, knowing the Puppet." Henry hummed. "It's very fond of you, young man. You better not take that for granted."

"…are you giving me your blessing to do what I think you are, Henry?" Mike managed, feeling cold and hollow all over. But within, deep within, was the stirrings of some small flame.

Hope.

"Just, seems to me like you got the good rabbit now, whose brains and Suit could be picked. An animatronic that became Real from nuthin' more than Love and Trust. That Michael…he always was a good kid. Never on time thought. Still. Might be a good place to start. Who knows what the future holds?"

'You do.' Mike realized grimly as he tried to rise. 'Or, you trust me enough to try something you accused William of fucking up. Or…maybe the part of you that was mad at me for it…was jealous. Because there was someone you couldn't save when she needed it.'

It was then he realized Fredbear was no longer projecting beside Springbonnie. The two had finished their reunion and he'd apparently returned to Mike fully.

Tiredness swept over Mike like a forceful ocean wave.

"Hey, no. W-wait…Hen…Henry—" He had more questions, like always.

"You look after my little girl, Michael. And my animatronics. Remember, if you don't…I'll know." Henry tapped the side of his temple knowingly and smirked.

"Freddy will tell me."

Beside the log, Helpy peeked out, shiny and whole once more. He waved brightly to the stunned Mike and beside him, Plushtrap peeked out as well from beside Springbonnie's legs. The little Funtime waved good-bye to Plushtrap before running over to Mike's side, helping himself to grab the man's jeans as Mike felt the world see-saw out from under him.

Mike's heart ached, and he grinned weakly.

'Let's get you back, Michael.' Gold thrummed. 'You and I, we could use a good night's rest.'

Mike hummed back, or at least he thought he did. He tried to, anyway. But then his eyes became too heavy to close, and he really was so tired. What could a little sleep hurt?

When it was only him and the two Bonnie models, Henry sighed the sigh of Contentment. Of relief.

Springbonnie, surprisingly the practical one these days, glanced at him sideways.

"Do you think they'll be able to find it?" the rabbit asked softly.

"I would think so. Place that big, that popular. It'll be impossible to ignore once they start looking fer it. You said you warned the kid."

"Hmm. …and do you think they'll be able to stop it?"

"Ah, now that. That is a different question, Springbonnie, my dear. If anyone can, it'll be those two. Can't have a Freddy without a Bonnie after all, which reminds me…"

"Yes, Creator?"

"You gunna be alright, pal?"

Springbonnie turned his bright emerald eyes to stare out across the lake.

"I think I'll mange just fine, thank you. Besides, my Goldybear assured me it was not good bye, but rather, 'so long.' I'll see him again someday, when he and Michael reach the end of their Togetherness." The bunny sounded pleased and almost hopeful, even at peace with his reminder. "In the meantime…"

"In the meantime," Henry nodded agreeably, "Why don't we fish a while?"


When the dreary, drizzly rain finally began to slow, the fire was thankfully already dying down. The rain just helped it along, actually.

And soon all that was left standing was a few burnt outer walls, some blackened wood framing, a chunk of stage, and some crispy, gutted metal cubes that at one point might have been the arcade machines. The kitchen was somewhat distinguishable, but Chica didn't even pay it a passing glance. There was nothing in there for her that was important any more. What was important was searching the wreckage for survivors. For any sign of Life. However, they couldn't even reach or see the stage. Rocket Ride was completely useless and disfigured beyond belief, and Freddy wondered why he'd give almost anything to hear it play one more time with Helpy inside. Maybe because it would mean some normalcy, maybe because it would mean Mike's laughter would be soon to follow. Someone had already suggested using Security Puppet to pinpoint at least Mike's location—except he'd removed the band, of course, probably for some stupidly noble reason like he didn't want to scare or alarm SP if she couldn't find him, or if he did find him and he was…already gone. Freddy Fazbear set the little present box down onto a dry section of side walk, relieved that the hour wasn't coming on them soon, and the little puppet model would stay inside without coming out to find Mike on her own.

Right now it was just him and his band, left standing amongst the ashes of a restaurant with nothing to show for it. Again.

'The damn Puppet was right,' Freddy thought bitterly, angrily. 'History never changes.'

Standing alone and tall and—incredibly—in their old fur suits and yet feeling…different.

'Fine. Maybe history changed some.' He didn't know why he felt the need to argue with himself, but Freddy ignored that too.

"Freddy?" Bonnie was the only one brave enough to question the lead bear as they all began to root and dig and search. Even Foxy was silent, big muzzle down and focused as he lifted and pawed.

Freddy, in the middle of moving aside a wall and marveling at the ease, tossed Bonnie a searching, expectant look, but it was tight and impatient. Bonnie, bless him, didn't seem to take it personally.

"Me and the others think—look, we feel real good. Brand new almost. Like we did in the Rockstar's bodies. Only we can't help but noticed we're…not in those bodies. Almost like it never happened. You uh, you don't think that was Mike and the…the you-know-what?" A heavy implication.

One Freddy didn't have time for. Or wanted to think about too closely.

Freddy turned to look at the barren, charred stage where their empty bodies once stood. He choose not to answer at first, and merely studied what little he could make out of the once polished and immense stage. Their bodies were gone, of course, they were gone because they were wearing them again. Like a switch being flicked, like two thin black fingers being snapped. Like the world had righted itself in the time it took for the rain to fall and the fire to die out, leaving ashes and reality in its wake. The dreams and the horrors were over. It was night, but no night lasted forever. Dawn would come soon, time would wander on.

"Don't know. Don't care." Freddy tossed aside the wall on the outer skirts of the building's frame, knowing it wasn't in danger of being in their way or…landing on someone.

Someone's.

"Right." Bonnie sighed, and turned back to help Foxy with a bigger piece of table that was stuck tight but had a hopeful looking gap under it, big enough to maybe fit a scarecrow of a man or even a corpse with a smaller Bonnie unit.

Half an hour later and all they had to show for it was their old endoskeletons—which confirmed Bonnie's suspicions to the point Freddy felt sick. A computer feeling sick was a weird enough concept on its own, but he did nonetheless. The Rockstars were gone, but their strong, sturdy, wonderfully durable and new insides were in them. No old parts, no mismatched joints from Pizza World. Freddy felt strangely detached from it all, and he couldn't find a lick of good will in him to be grateful for the Puppet's strange switch it had granted them.

None of it mattered.

Not without their kids.

"Maybe…" Chica started somewhere near Freddy's left, and he tried not to snap at her, thinking he already knew where she was going with her comment, but he held his tounge. "Maybe we're looking in the wrong places?"

"…how so, sis?" Bonnie replied, pausing to give her an odd look, his ears half cocked curiously. "We were by the back door, there's no way anyone got past us into the warehouse. And the front door sure didn't work."

"Aye," Foxy agreed, but then jabbed his hook pointedly, "But we only been checking them small openings…"

"I, uh, I can give you guys a hint, if you want."

Everyone, but especially Foxy froze, and turned as one unit.

Shadow Freddy stood near them, wobbly and cobbled together in a tight knit cluster of purple, smoggy darkness as ever. Gradually, the shadows began to fade and sink downwards in a soft wuff of air.

"…Scott?" Foxy drawled in wonder, and immediately his tail began to wag. "Lad!"

"Hello, hello! Long time, eh gang? Well, for you, not for me. I've been here the whole time." Scott rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, some forgotten instinct from when he was alive. "Thought my disguise was pretty good, but I could never figure out talking, well 'cept through the phone lines. I think Jeremy managed it better than I did. Bonnie's always were so chatty…I been practicing though! Can everyone hear me alright? I think my time's almost up, actually…"

"You always showed up when some disaster was about to happen!" Chica accused, then paused. "Although I don't think you ever caused any, come to think of it…"

"I was trying to warn you guys." The man drooped. "Course, I tried warning the night guards that came after me, and look how well that worked out…"

"Aye. And you taking out Afton fer us?" Foxy said, "What was that, then?"

"Something I've been wanting to do for a looong time, Foxy." The man managed to grin lightly. "It felt good to get back at him, even if I wasn't the one who took him out technically."

"Ya still helped." Freddy grunted, then lapsed into silence. "And, uh, we're sorry fer killing ya. If we'd known…"

"Ehh, water under the bridge. I've had years to get over that. Especially when I knew what had happened to you. I didn't stick around for that. I stuck around for the same reasons Alex did. And since that's done, well…you guys know how ghost stories end." The guard turned to study the slip of orange in the sky, or perhaps he was counting the stars as they winked out, one by one.

"Looks like my shift's finally ended. It'll be nice seeing what's waiting for me out there. If I see your kids, I'll tell them about you, okay? Thank you for all you've done, gang. Henry, the real Henry, would be proud."

"Wait! Ya mentioned a hint?" Freddy called, paw outstretched as if he could stop a ghost from doing as it pleased and moving on.

"Oh, right! Sorry," Shadow Freddy flickered into existence once more in place of the old night guard, pearly smile waving as if rippled in the water. "Chica was on it, guys. Try looking for an animatronic instead, over by the stage. I think Scraptrap made it there before the roof caved in…"

Shadow Freddy faded the brighter it became. A slip of sunrise peaked through the clouds and pierced Shadow Freddy through, making him twinkle out of existence.

And then, like that, he was gone.

The fox and chicken were both near a large section of the stage, where some of the curtains hung about a foot in a clump of tatters. It struck Freddy as odd that the once shimmery curtain had survived the fire best they did, since he was sure they weren't up to code in the original building. He paused when Foxy and Chica heaved as one and the ceiling and wall split almost cleanly, sending up a flurry of ash and dust and other junk. The Fazes waved at it uselessly, then froze when each of them spotted a yellow paw, wide and flat like Bonnie's.

"Michael!" Glass crunched under the bear's hurried steps, and helped the other two as Bonnie followed him just as quickly.

Scraptrap whined in reply, shaking his head out and scrambling to try and stand. His optics were silver, although it was clear he was full of the kid. It just seemed Max wasn't awake to help much. Scrap eyed Freddy but hummed, low and throaty and questioning. He looked suspicious but not irate. Just cautious. Freddy couldn't blame him.

"Just tell me if he's alright." Freddy managed, hearing the static in his whisper and wincing internally. It wasn't Faz to show such weakness but damn if those two didn't bring that out in him.

Scraptrap blinked once, head canting as if in question. Instead of signing anything, the bunny finally relaxed and nodded once. The old springlocks began to click-clack open and soon enough Max was revealed, even if he was quiet and still. When Freddy's paw gripped his shoulder to ease him out, the teenager stirred, and the gang made various noises of relief and concern.

"That's one." Bonnie reminded quietly, sounding depressed that he had to say it at all. He let Freddy worry about taking care of Max while he addressed the green and yellow bunny that was closing itself methodically. "Where's uh…you seen Mike anywhere?"

Scraptrap turned to stare at Bonnie.

"…or Goldy?" Chica asked, following Bonnie's train of thought.

Because, it stood to reason, if Max and Scraptrap had enough to Suit up, then perhaps Golden was somewhere in the remains of the building too. He was sturdy and certainly had sheltered Mike from worse incidents.

"Hey, wait'a second," Bonnie frowned. "Fire's supposed to send Spirits right off this mortal coil, how come yer kid was okay? Uh, not that we're complaining it's just…weird."

Scraptrap perked up, apparently pleased he could answer them. Even Freddy glanced over in query when he heard this questioned asked, and the Fazgang all watched as once as Scraptrap puppetered an invisible toy using wriggling, splayed fingers.

"Oh." It seemed to hit them all at once, then. "…oh."

"Freddy, I-I don't think Mike's..." Chica didn't even finish her sentence.

She didn't need to. The statement was clear. And so final. 'Coming back.' After all, the old adage was Afton was the one who always came back. There was never anything said about Mike or Goldy being able to. And this would be just like the damn Marionette, too. Giving them back their first kid only to make it a trade for the one Marion really wanted. It could argue they weren't defenseless, could remind them that Mike had come here of his own volition, that his—and theirs—lives were forfeit for these last five nights.

Gripping the last living Afton tight and protective, Freddy watched with tired, broken relief as Max opened those strange violet eyes and blinked warily up at him. Freddy watched several emotions flicker across the little punk's face, realizing Max was probably still caught up in the past and that he assumed he was still low on the Faz's totem pole of opinion. That he was no longer special. Freddy eased the kid's worries away with a reminder, a simple rake of his messy bangs off his eye even though they flopped back into forward disarray the second his paw was gone. He almost chuckled when Max seemed to melt into the touch, and Freddy realized then how long Max had gone without much physical interaction from another living creature. Aside from his Bonnie model of course…

"Freddy?" The kid's voice was raspy and dry, but solid enough. He cleared his throat before he spoke again, however. "S'matter?"

Freddy paused. He'd forgotten how easy Max could read them all, could read him. He supposed it had plenty to do with the fact Max had been with them since before they were even stage ready, let alone capable of thinking and learning.

"Jus'…happy yer safe is all, son."

"What'bout Mike?" he asked it so matter of factly, albeit tiredly, that Faz and the others hesitated. He was far to expectant to be out to hurt them all, and anyway, Max wouldn't hurt them like that. Neither of them, frankly, wanted to be the one to tell the kid the truth, but…

"Son, Mike didn't make it out in time. We're guessing he held back Henry and then held the door shut while the place—" Because Max's alarmed look was worrying. No animatronic wanted to upset a kid but—

"W-what? Wait, no. No! Mike's right there, man! Isn't…isn't he?"

"Oh boy, how hard did the ceiling fall on him?" Bonnie worried, but they all watched Max scramble to sit upright in Freddy's hold and point in a seemingly random direction.

"I'm not crazy," Max snapped, actually sounding a little mad, "Look, right there? Can't you…can't you guys…?"

For a brief second, as he stared at the empty, looming pile of what appeared to be the east ceiling and the hall, as well as the old office. Freddy wondered if Max wasn't looking at a ghost. And then he wondered why the hell none of them could see ghosts anymore, and why that had changed. Only it hadn't. They could still see ghosts, they'd just seen Scott after all…

And then something black and white was slithering up under the wreckage as if on cue. It scratched and pushed, bumping it up and out and making the debris and chunks of plaster and molding crumble or roll away. There was so much of it, and it was so heavy. And there was music box music, faint but there, tinkling for a few notes before there was a final, stubborn shove and the walls that had tipped together into an open A shape folded backwards to reveal a horrible, tight cluster of bunched up stripped limbs that had framed a small area while everything had collapsed around it. First, the limbs revealed Lefty the bear, his head hanging but in well enough shape that his body must have warded away the rest of the potential pressure and some of the fire, because Lefty was singed in several places. His body clattered uselessly apart, empty and hollow limbs flopping down along the tile. His job was done.

Mike was lying in the middle and under all of that, of all the boneless, creepy limbs and even of Lefty. If Freddy didn't know the true nature of the shabby animatronic, it almost looked like two animatronics had come together to save their night guard. Instead, of course, it was just one. But it must have taken everything that single animatronic had to pull off such a thing. Helpy pushed out from Mike's limp arm, smiling cluelessly and brushing himself off as he toddled over the wreckage, reaching for Foxy's tail. For once, the fox didn't snap or even glance at him, he merely let Helpy tug and hang off it while everyone gaped at the sight before them.

The tired tentacles slithered backwards into the darkness under the broken little desk, with the sort of heavy slinking that screamed exhaustion. The music halted with a creaking grind, broken and brittle once more. Silence reigned. Nobody moved, not even Freddy, though everyone glanced worriedly from Fazbear to Mike. But it was followed barely a minute later with a very alive sounding cough, and Mike warily uncurled his body and tried to get one hand and arm under him. He looked out of it but his eye was gold again, though he didn't answer anyone at first when they called his name, not even Freddy. Mike was staring down at the floor, and Freddy's alarm kicked up several notches.

When Freddy and the others got closer, they realized why.

Lying in Mike's other hand was a large chunk of smooth, curved porcelain. It was a clean enough cut, so Freddy let that suddenly shaking, very human hand grip it tight and tried not to worry too much.

"Son," Freddy started, then stopped. Even he didn't know what to say in a situation like this. They'd never really seen anything quite like it. The Marionette was known for its selfishness, not…not this.

"…Mari says hi." Mike's tone sounded emptier than Freddy felt, but the bear only sighed.

"Oh, Michael." But the life was returning back to the old bear's frame and expression. It warmed further when Mike glanced up at him, hair a mess and covered in dirt and looking, frankly, like he'd dug his way out of someone's grave to return to them. His eyes were wide and raw, and searching Freddy's expression for any strength he could borrow. Freddy melted even more when Mike offered him a tiny, fragile smile.

Freddy gripped the young man by his collar, as he so often did, and lifted him to his feet.

"Lookitcha, boy." He play scolded, "Like sumthin' the cat dragged in."

"Thanks," Mike replied, trying to snark but having little left in him to truly mean it. What he did look was grateful, and he allowed Freddy to brush off what he could in terms of dust and dirt and smudges.

"Everyone okay?" Mike called as he stood patiently under the bear's big paw, and the night guard quietly tucked the porcelain chunk into his pocket as he studied them all with more clarity.

"Back to normal, huh?" The man gave them a rueful smile. "Kind of sucks, I could have gotten used to your new bodies."

"Ah, weren't us though laddie, not really. Sides, we got to keep the innards of 'em. That's good 'nough." Foxy said, pointedly ignoring Bonnie's mutter to Chica about how Foxy wouldn't have wanted a new body if it meant keeping that parrot, to which she giggled under her beak in agreement.

"You did?" Mike blinked as he picked himself somewhat clean of junk and plaster with Freddy's help.

"Yeah, check it! No more limp, Mike!" Bonnie bragged.

"And my wrists are moving great, too!" Chica swiveled them in a complex twist to show him.

"That's something, then." Mike took in stock of the ruins they now stood in, and sighed. "So much for the restaurant…although I guess it never really was a restaurant, then. Some of this stuff looks like old, as old as our joint."

"But in worse shape." Freddy agreed, finally stepping back a bit, giving Mike space to pick himself out of the small shelter he'd been found in. The lead animatronic followed Mike's path. "This place ain't fer us, son. Never was."

"No, I guess not." Mike sighed, but spotted Max and Scraptrap and grinned. "Hey kid, good job in there. I couldn't have done any of that without your help."

"Uh, oh, sure, don't mention it." Max's gruff shrug wasn't taken too personally by Mike. It was obvious the kid hadn't exactly been thanked much or acknowledged so much for this long. Mike supposed all he could do was keep it up, and prove to Max the kid was as good as everyone knew him to be.

"You okay?" Mike hedged, seeing the way Max's gaze was stuck on the burnt ruins a little too long to be over something small.

"Huh? Yeah! Sure, no…I'm. I'm good. This was just…a lot." The understatement of the century. Still, Mike knew a closed off person when he saw one.

"It usually is." Mike agreed with weary sympathy. "But it wasn't something anyone should go through alone, either. I don't care how strong you are. I'm glad you two are okay, Max."

"Aye, besides," Foxy nudged Mike's shoulder and leveled his hook toward the eastern sky. "No more sad faces. It be sunrise, maties. Look! We made it."

And so it was.

The world brightened by the minute, but though the sun was heading upwards, the world still remained crisp and chilly. A cold wind whistled cheerfully through the remains of the old building, the rain wouldn't freeze but it wouldn't do any good to just stick around this desolate, awful area. Freddy moved to shelter the two humans with his frame, but otherwise everyone was silent for a while. This would take more than a few quiet moments to process, but right now this small, unsure and simple moment would have to do.

"Now what?" Max finally asked, his tone small and uneasy beside Mike. Mike, for his part merely sighed and shrugged. He began to fumble for his wallet.

"First things first I am getting the cheapest, no questions asked hotel that 75—er, make that 50—can buy. Then I'm going to take the world's longest, hottest shower and then I'm going to eat a vending machine or two." Mike seemed to perk up just as the mere suggestion of his words, his smile returning as he zipped up his coat against the bitter wind and buried his hands in his pockets.

"…the food inside, right?" Max managed.

"Yeah, maybe."

"You better get a big room, I ain't sleepin' in that creepy van, dude." Bonnie warned as they headed for the ancient machine sitting innocuously in its parking spot. "That crappy thing might not even turn on!"

"She's sat for longer than a week Bon, and worked just fine. Also, you don't sleep." Mike retorted. "March, rabbit."

"Fine, but I'm sitting near sis! She doesn't take up so much room."

"Ye watch yerself, rabbit." Foxy muttered, then his tone turned toward annoyance as he whirled and shooed Helpy away, as if now just noticing him. "Be gone, ye little pest!"

Helpy giggled behind a paw and toddled for the van when he saw Mike pointing.

Mike wasn't paying much attention to what was going on, worrying about finding a place to stop, worrying about finding enough food to sate his usual ravenous appetite, and then trying to figure out the best way to get home. Especially if it snowed, or rained or worse. He had plenty of other things on his mind too, of course. Things like ghosts and worries and fear and loss and hope. How to find the supplies he would need, if it would work, and how much blood, sweat and tears it would take to get him up and running. Then of course, there was the GL-Trap that Max had said Springtrap had warned them about. He wondered why Springtrap hadn't warned him about it before, then had to come to grips with the likely chance that Afton had managed to set up more dominoes before being pulled in by the fake restaurant's allure, so of course Springtrap wouldn't have known until it happened. That left Mike wondering what a GL-Trap could possibly be, what the GL would stand for. Well, that too would have to wait. A careless glance into the back of the van made him pause though, because he only noticed one pair of tall ears folded down to avoid rubbing along the van's roof. Mike blinked. Ignoring a growing argument between Foxy and Bonnie, Mike turned and realized Freddy was behind him like always. That was normal, Freddy was always the last to load before Mike.

But Freddy was looking at something to their right, and Mike followed his friend's gaze. He softened at the awkward glance the corpse tossed them, still lingering beside the old building. Scraptrap had picked up Security Puppet's box. Max's fingers fiddled with his headphone cord. Scraptrap, for his part, perked up when Mike caught his gaze and took a bold step with box and all, and when Mike's own grin returned the bunny model seemed to purr.

"Winter's coming, kiddo. What, you gunna stay out here? Not happening." Mike remarked, then jerked his head at the van. "C'mon. You can ride shot gun. Scrap, you can sit in the back with the others, okay?"

The bunny nodded eagerly and tugged poor Max along with a free paw. Still, the kid was sitting sheepishly in the passenger seat by the time Mike slammed the back doors to the old van and hopped up behind the wheel.

"Mike, I uh…" Max shot him a sidelong glance before shrugging, "Thanks. For…yanno, for back there. For this. You don't have to do…"

"Don't mention it." He hummed as he rolled the engine over. "You're family kid, right? We got your back."

Max looked surprised, confused and touched all in one. He looked like he wanted to say something more before a purple paw moved over between the seats, dumping the cassette case into the stunned teenager's lap.

"Here ya go, rockstar! Pick something really hopping, okay?" Bonnie demanded, as if they'd done this before.

"But keep the volume down matey! Some of us be trying to rest our batteries back here!" Foxy warned, sounding more like he was scolding Bonnie than Max.

"Awh, Foxy, let him have a little fun!" Chica cooed. "After all, it's Maxxie's first road trip with us!"

"Aye, and it'll be his last if ole Foxy goes deaf from that blasted rock nonsense—"

"No, Helpy, you do not need to be upfront, c'mere. Stay with me. Sit! Darn little fool…"

There was startled, sleepy chiming, followed by a gentle rowl from Scraptrap.

"You better stay in your box, SP," Mike warned as he started backing out, having heard her tiny peals of confusion. "This is gunna be a big adventure for you, sweetie."

"She is. Just checking to see if you were still here, I think." Freddy reported.

"I'm still here." Mike caught Max's eye and winked. "Me and Fredbear both. Even better, we got a Bonnie again."

Mike managed to hide his surprise when Max glanced up from the cassette he was loading into the van's tape deck and smiled shyly back.

'Yes, Michael.' Gold's voice rumbled from within him, sounding contented as Mike sounded affectionate. 'We do.'

And off they went. The road twisted down to the main stretch, into farmland and toward the small town they'd head through before meeting the highway. By now the clouds had taken over the sky, grey and deep and dark. They sat, crowding each other as the burnt building and the ancient, empty warehouse sat, innocuous as before and open to the world. Nothing stirred, no creaks or whispers sounded. All was empty, and quiet and calm. After all, like Mike had warned, winter was approaching. Soon it would be covered in snow, and whatever had walked there wouldn't walk again. The thing about winter, of course, was that what happens in winter is not death. Not really. Things go dormant, not dead. Winter freezes, sure. Winter was brittle and sharp and stinging. But then spring would take its place, and soon enough the world would awaken.

And maybe, when the snow melted, something would grow there again. Not something horrible, but some small, with tiny red petals, or perhaps wandering ivy. Maybe green would creep and crawl its way over, flourishing over what one was. Nature had her own way of filling in the cracks, and patching up the holes. She just needed winter to rest before doing it. But it would be Life, not Death, that returned first. And if it did Return, it would do so alone. Mike Schmidt and his animatronics, nor Max Afton and his animatronic, would not be there to see it. No one would be.

They were going home, after all. They were going home to their restaurant, small and shabby though it was on the outside. Inside, it held Life, and Love, and a Family. Much like a black, old bear once had, their true restaurant hid something spectacular on the inside. First, though, Mike and the others had to get back.

After all, at a restaurant like Freddy's Pizzeria, it is always a good idea to be home before dark.


oh? No, I didn't mean this end~