Epilogue: End of an Era

Saturday 28th November 1987, 18:23 PM

They'd called it the Sunset Institute. At least, as far as Jeremy was aware. These days, he was anything but.

Some sort of bandage had been tied around his head, covering everything from his eyes to his nose. It's not like it changed anything for him, of course; though his ears still worked well enough for him to hear people talking, even if it felt distant, his vision remained blurred.

It felt like he was in a void, surrounded only by darkness. He knew that physically he was there, laying on a bed, but otherwise it felt like he was alone.

The voices he heard told him otherwise, yet they were nasty and hateful.

Of course, it wasn't like he could comprehend why. Even if he was able to talk to them, to inquire as to why they detested him so much, he simply didn't feel interested in finding out why. Mostly because he didn't understand why he was even there.

All he could remember was that moment. The moment when the thing, hanging from the ceiling like a spider, dropped down on him. The cold metal pressing down on his cranium, before the crunch that took him.

He didn't know how he felt about it. He could remember that he was scared, frightened of what was happening to him. Now, however, he simply felt nothing about what happened to him.

Even when he heard what he was here for, something about some murders, he simply couldn't muster up the interest to feel anything.

Somewhere else, either right next to him or miles away, he heard two people talking to each other. He believed it to be about him.

"I just can't believe we have to do this. If I have to clean up after that monster every day, I swear…"

"C'mon, man. It's our job."

"Our job? I didn't go into healthcare to be some child killer's babysitter."

"It's, like, five minutes a day. And we got quite the grant from the Government for it, too."

"The Institute got that money, not us. I'd be happy with what happened back there, but that hunk of metal could've at least finished the job…"

"Dude, come on!"

"What? You're gonna get your panties in a twist over that guy? Fitzgerald is a monster. If he hadn't had half his brain ripped out, he'd be in some max security prison miles away. At least there, he would've ended up getting shanked. You know what they do to predators there, don't you?"

If he had control over his eyes, Jeremy would have blinked. There had been a murder? He hadn't known that. Though he wanted to ponder it a little more, his mind went elsewhere, remembering a show he used to watch.

He supposed it didn't really matter what he was being accused of. It wasn't like he could, or wanted, to defend himself. If this was his new life, he supposed all he could do was make the best of it.

Saturday 3rd December 23:36 PM

He'd made a point to have his father buried next to his mother, after the body was recovered. On the hill where they both were laid to rest, it was peaceful.

Although Mike had wanted to stay there forever, he knew that he hadn't a lot of time left.

It had been a week since the incident, at the pizzeria built in 1987. Through either official news reports, or scraps of intel given to him by Caine, he had learnt that all of the Toy Animatronics, as well as the body of his father, had been retrieved. They'd even released Peter Crews.

From what he had been told, the Toy Animatronics had been in surprisingly-good condition. Other than the slight fire damage that could be cleaned, there hadn't been too much damage to their endoskeletons or their costumes.

As for the reputation of Fazbear Entertainment…that was a different story.

Scrutiny would have been a loose term for what they came under after the videos of their animatronics standing there in the street, in front of the burning building they once called home.

Before they had even been able to attempt to cover it up, the house of cards they had been carefully balancing for the better part of a decade fell when the leaked evidence was provided.

Mike knew that it had been the Crucible to leak the evidence. Everything that Caine and his department had uncovered was there; the murder cover-ups, the deaths of the night guards, the silencing of witnesses…it all generated a hailstorm that came back-to-back.

Within a few days, the Government had no choice but to issue a notice of their investigation into the matter, which included getting the FBI involved. From what Caine had told him, it was going exactly the way the Crucible wanted it to go.

The Government had issued a repossession of Fazbear Entertainment's assets. Everything, from the buildings to what lay inside was now up to the Government to decide the fate of.

Mike knew in his heart that had this happened six months ago, he would have likely shrugged it off and gladly walked away. He knew what was going to happen, since he'd been guessing it since Caine had first arrived.

But things were different now. Sitting down on a bench, he remembered sitting there, on that bridge with the small stream underneath it, soon after the Broken Circuits Incident. Once more, he was sitting there, at a crossroads; the last time he had sat there, he'd acted in self-preservation. Knowing that whilst his guns remained there, he would be incriminated.

Now he was sitting there and he had another choice to make: To allow what was going to happen, ignoring his own guilt. Or to return there and enact his plan, even though he knew it would get him into trouble that he would never be able to return from.

He knew what his answer was. It could only ever end one way.

The moon hung over him as he entered the pizzeria. Seeing how the animatronics were lifeless, he considered going to Foxy and seeing if he was awake. He decided against it, knowing that he wouldn't get a response either way.

Mangle's death had hit Foxy hard, especially.

He was just starting to head to his office when he noticed the door to the manager's office ajar, light leaking out of the void. Hesitating, Mike went over to check it out. He poked his head inside, astounded to see the file cabinets raved through and most of the ornaments on the shelves discarded.

In the centre of the office, sitting at his desk, was Mr. Garfield. He was perusing what looked to be a photo album with fondness. Though he didn't know what would be said, Mike decided to step into the office and talk to him.

"Sir?" Mike mumbled, "Mr. Garfield? You're still here?"

Blinking, Mr. Garfield looked up, "Ah, sport. Sorry, I didn't realise what time it was. I should have been gone about an hour ago, but…I've just been looking through some of my old things…"

Glancing at the photo album, Mike nodded to it, "What's in it?"

"Pictures, from back in the early 80's. The Golden Age of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. It was…so much simpler back then. We knew what we were doing, where the most complicated thing we had to deal with being how to get more customers through those doors…"

"Yeah," Mike scowled, "no need for hiding bodies and covering up murders."

"I guess so. I never intended for it to get so bad…"

Feeling the anger, Mike gazed at the floor, "I don't get it. How? How can you justify any of this?"

Mr. Garfield didn't respond.

"Just how many years has this gone on for? Ten years, at least? Twenty, maybe? I have no idea how long Fazbear Entertainment has been doing this for, how many mistakes they have covered up. I can't say I'd blame you for everything."

"But what happened here? You've got blood on your hands, Charles. Holden White, Lincoln Jones, Glenn Green, Randy Takei, Andy Hewitt, and Wilson Gustin…all of their deaths are on you. God knows just how long that list really is. My name has almost been on that list too many times."

"But more than that…you've known about the animatronics. You knew about Golden Freddy. The bodies that were found, both of the mass murders…I'm sure you knew something about the Marionette, too."

"But the one thing I just can't answer is…why? Why did you cover this up? For your own gain? To appease your masters at Fazbear Entertainment? You had connections to the Fuego Verde, that gang the Police had to clean up after just outside…but then you didn't say anything after you found out that my father was still alive."

"And then I remembered those CCTV tapes you've kept recorded in these file cabinets. Every night, you had footage of me, of the animatronics…you must have known it was me who shot them up, back in August. They would have been enough to put me away for a few felonies, or would have given Fazbear Entertainment enough reason to kill me."

"So, tell me Charles…why? Why did you do all of this?"

At first, Mr. Garfield didn't answer. He slumped, and seemed so small in that brown suit of his. Dishevelled and almost broken, he slightly smiled and winced as he sat up. "Let me tell you a story…one where a man, with no drive in this cruel world…found happiness in the most unlikely of places."

"I was in my thirties when I heard about Freddy Fazbear's Pizza for the first time. At that point, I had lost everything. My wife, my children…but they always loved this one small pizzeria with these funny robots. Something…drew me to this place. I had my business degree and nowhere to go.

Mike remained stoic, yet interested as Garfield explained his side of the story.

"I reached manager with a year, and became manager of the chain in the state by the late eighties. I was selected to lead the rebrand. I tried…tried to prevent what happened five years before from happening again. I had the animatronics equipped with databases and systems to protect the building and the customers."

"I failed. And each time I did so, it felt like my reason for this…that my only connection to my family…my children…was being ripped away from me. When they started trying to kill people, I didn't know what to do. I hoped that one day, someone would come along and fix them. To solve the problem."

Mike grimaced, "And how many people had to die before I came along?"

"No one should have."

"That still doesn't answer my question…why didn't you report me to the Police?"

"Because in spite of your abrasiveness…I always liked you. You're rough and ill-tempered, but you stood your ground. You persevered. I was rooting for you, since that first week. I couldn't blame you for leaving, but I had hoped that I would be able to train you…to replace me."

That took Mike aback. "Wait, replace? What do you mean by that?"

Garfield coughed, and it was only then that Mike noticed the blood stains on his shirt. "I'm…I'm dying, sport. I doubt I will be around for the next year. It's silly, but…I had hoped that I would die before this. I knew this would happen one day, but I didn't…didn't want to lose my family again. Those animatronics are important to me."

Standing up, Garfield struggled to tighten his tie before picking up his briefcase and putting on his hat. "I suppose, either way…this is the end. Take care of yourself, will you?"

Biting his lip, Mike nodded. "I will, Charles. You, too."

Garfield smiled and tilted his hat slightly. "Goodbye, Mike Schmidt." Silently, Garfield walked past him and within moments, he was out the door, but not before taking one last look at the animatronics he had safeguarded for years.

Sunday 4th December 00:00 AM

As the night power kicked in, Mike sprang up to his feet and rushed out of his office, down through the hall, and towards the dining room. He didn't have a lot of time, and neither did they. They needed to coordinate quickly, before it was too late.

Reaching the end of the hallway, he had to slow down to catch his breath before seeing the animatronics on their stage, gazing at nothing.

Freddy nodded at him as he entered, speaking in a low voice. "Michael. Are you okay?"

"Could be doing better." Mike bit his lip, "How…how about you guys?"

"About as well." Hesitating, Freddy glanced at his friends, "How about the others that went with us? Did they…survive?"

Rubbing his face, Mike looked down, "Caine recovered quickly, but he had to give up the case to the other department, Law. Benji…he, um, had to have his arm amputated. I'm meeting Caine later on, after the shift."

His face turning at the mention of Benji's injuries, Freddy seemed sad. "I'm sorry. No one should have gotten hurt in our stead."

"We all knew the risks. Me, Benji, Caine and Carl…my dad…we all went into that pizzeria knowing we might not come back out."

"I just…" Bonnie mumbled, "I don't understand…we only just got them back…"

"What was this all for?" Chica wept, "Our family gone…and for what?"

Glancing at Pirate's Cove, Mike was dismayed when Foxy didn't join the conversation. Out of all of them, he took the Toys' deaths the hardest. The loss of Mangle had broken him.

But Mike knew that he couldn't give up on him. Approaching the curtain, Mike pulled it back. Foxy sat in the far back, knees curled up, staring at the wall.

"I know how rough this is on all of you." Mike said quietly, "This…all of this…should have never happened. I should have done better for them. Mangle and the Fazcrew…they saved my life. I'm sorry that I couldn't return the favour."

"But you must all know what's coming. What happened when we escaped has shattered any possibility of Fazbear Entertainment covering up what happened. There's been official investigations, and Law Department provided all the evidence they need."

"The Government has started to repossess any of the assets they feel is necessary. That includes Freddy's Pizza and anything inside. I don't know if they're planning on moving you, or keeping you here…but whatever they have planned, it can't be good."

Nodding grimly, Freddy closed his eyes, "I suspected as much. With everything that happened…it was inevitable that they would take action. I suppose there isn't anything we can do about it, now."

"I don't believe that." Mike stated, "Fazbear Entertainment have been rightfully nailed to the cross and whatever happens to them, is a long time coming. But none of you deserve to suffer for it! You've already suffered enough!"

"Which is why I've got a plan. I'm getting you all out of here, far away where they can't find you."

It was almost as if Freddy raised an eyebrow, "Oh? I suppose you're going to smuggle us out of the country?"

"If that's necessary."

Bonnie blinked, "That isn't going to work. If they're investigating…won't they get suspicious the moment they find that we're not there?"

"And then they'll be after you." Chica agreed.

"Then we'll avoid them. Once we're out, it won't matter if they're after us."

"Lad," Foxy choked out quietly, "we already be on the plank, ready to be pushed. Nothin' good will happen if ye join us."

"None of us are walking the plank!" Mike gritted his teeth. How could they not understand this? How could they not be behind this? "Caine never took the truck we used to transport you guys back! But the Crucible will go and retrieve it any time now, so our window is closing! We load you guys up, and travel north. Once we're past the border into Canada, we head over somewhere nice and distant. Alaska, maybe."

Freddy shook his head, "And after that? What will you do for money? What will you do to power us, fuel us?"

"We'll figure it out."

"No. You won't. Because you'll go down with us, if you insist in this path."

"So be it."

But Bonnie joined in, siding with Freddy. "Mike…this is just going to get you hurt, or worse! They're probably watching this place and the moment they see something suspicious…"

"Mike, honey," Chica looked at him with sad eyes, "the detective said you would be in the clear and the Police wouldn't go after you. If you do this, I don't think he can do anything for you."

"I'll deal with that when it comes."

"Ye can't do anythin'," Foxy mumbled, "that ye haven't tried before. The time has come. Ya gotta run and don't look back. Save yerself."

Those words chilled Mike to the bone as he remembered the similar words that Caine had spoken to him days before. "No. No! It's not over yet! We still have time!"

"Michael…" Freddy said quietly.

"We don't have time to argue about this! We can figure things out, once we're gone!"

"Michael." Freddy repeated, more forceful.

"I can find a job somewhere, and I can get anything that you guys will need! We just have to—"

"Mike!" Freddy sternly repeated, halting the night guard in his track, "Please, just stop! What you're saying…it's not real! It's not going to happen!"

"But—"

"This is over, Michael."

"No! It isn't! It can't be!"

"It's been over for a long time. What is happening…this guillotine has been hanging over us longer than any of us know. What happened here…because of you, we've managed to forgive ourselves. To see the demons who were truly responsible. For that, we thank you. But…that doesn't change the fact that the consequences are still there."

"But it shouldn't be you who pays for it!"

"Maybe. I'm not sure. But what I do know…is that you shouldn't, either."

"You don't understand! I walked in here myself! It was my decision! I don't have anyone else, now! My mom…my dad…I'm alone! You four are the only thing I have left!"

"That's not true."

"I failed you." Mike whispered, feeling the tears trickling down his cheeks, "I…you all went there to protect me. The Toys, too…I should've done more…you…you don't deserve this!"

Freddy watched him for a few moments before speaking. "You've given us more than we could ever repay. You gave us our purpose back, brought our friends back to us…helped us remember the truth. Michael, what you have given to us is something that I never would have expected. All I ask from you now…is just this one thing."

Mike looked up through tear-stricken eyes at the bear, who looked down at him with sad fondness.

"Go live your life, Michael…" Freddy said quietly, "and stop living under the shadow…of this gang of tired, washed-up mascots."

Mike sobbed as he rested his head against the bear's chest. For his part, Freddy placed one hand against his back and patted it. Leaving his embrace, Mike felt the other animatronics come to his side and for a brief few moments, Mike almost forgot his woes alongside his unlikely family.

He knew, no matter how much he wanted to ignore it, that this would be his last ever shift with them. But he was keen on making it last as long as possible.

For what felt like an eternity, Mike spent his time with each of them. He played games like hide-and-seek, chess with Freddy, and watched their shows. The Fazgang eagerly played as many songs as they could, with interims of Foxy recounting his tales as a pirate, which Mike listened to eagerly.

It was as if for a brief few moments, they could forget the reality that had broken each one of them time and time again.

The time eventually came, the cracks of dawn appearing in the distant views they had created once they had taken down the barriers blacking out the windows. Once the night power ran out and six am arrived, they knew it was time.

He made his tearful goodbyes to those strange animatronics he called his friends before he left. He broke out into sunlight, feeling the rays of cold hit him. He pulled his coat on tight against him as he walked through the parking lot.

Stopping, he felt the eyes on him. He turned and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight.

Just by the entrance of the pizzeria, with the doors swung wide, the animatronics stood there. With sad eyes, they waved him off. Smiling, Mike waved back, trying to ignore the fresh tears before he continued walking down the parking lot towards the sidewalk.

For what he knew would be the last time, Mike Schmidt left Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, his night shift over. But he knew that another chapter awaited his arrival.

Sunday 4th December 07:23 AM

Mike stared out at the large stretch of water in front of him. Though he knew it couldn't be more than a few kilometres, he couldn't see the other side of it due to the fog. Readjusting his holster so that it fit more comfortably, Mike was glad that he had finally gotten around to getting his concealed carry permit.

Sitting down on the seat of his bike, he saw the movement of metal up the road. Squinting, he noticed that the sleek sedan that drove down the road was black. It pulled up on the roadside opposite of him.

Pushing the door open, Thomas Caine stepped out, placing his hat on his head, wearing his brown trench coat. He nodded to Mike as he laid his eyes on him, and Mike walked across the street to join him.

"You've got a motorcycle." He mused as he joined him.

Mike shrugged, "And you're driving. You got your licence back?"

"Aye. Is that a recent buy?"

"Yep."

"At least we won't have to carpool, anymore."

Nodding, Mike sagged, "What's your plans, then?"

"For one, I'll be out of the country. Italy, specifically. Will be there for the next year."

"What's the case?"

Hesitating, Caine seemed somewhat bitter, "None, I'm afraid. After what happened, I was asked by Sanders to go on paid leave. So, held against my will, I'll be going on vacation with Sam. Carl will likely be joining us. I managed to get his vacation time refunded."

Mike couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his throat, "I can almost imagine you sitting on some beach in Sicily, begrudgingly drinking a Martini."

"God, don't put that thought in my head."

They both laughed for a moment, before falling silent. Concerned, Mike glanced at him. "Why were you put on paid leave?"

"After the Prometheus Protocol was ended, and I was recovering, Donovan successfully petitioned for access of the Fazbear Case. Law Department now has full control over what they do with it. In typical Donovan fashion, he has decided to do nothing and let better men deal with it."

Mike nodded grimly, "So he's letting the Government go forward with their repossession?"

"I'm afraid so. Our gambit failed, Mike. The Crucible are happy with the outcome, of course. Fazbear Entertainment have been nailed to the cross, and the deaths of the night guards will be avenged."

"And are you happy about that?"

"Surprisingly? No. Not particularly. The most we were able to do before we lost control was use the evidence we got to prove Jeremy Fitzgerald's innocence. It's been given to both the Police and the News, so it'll be circulating within a matter of days. Of course, it's not like it matters. With Jeremy's condition, he'll never leave Sunset Institute, anyway."

Nodding, Mike gazed at the cold sun hanging in the sky. When the detective didn't say anything, Mike glanced at him and was confused when he saw the thoughtful, almost worried look in his eyes.

"What's up?" Mike asked him.

Caine blinked, "Sorry?"

"There's been something on your mind since you arrived. What happened? You saw another bear ghost?"

Laughing, Caine shrugged, "That would be typical, wouldn't it?"

"So what's up?"

Caine didn't answer at first. He shuffled nervously, seemed to question himself, then sighed and relaxed against the car. "Sam's pregnant."

"Wow." Mike did a double-take, and in spite of himself, smiled, "Dude…congratulations!"

"I didn't even know, until a couple hours ago. She's been waiting to tell me. I guess she didn't want me distracted during the case."

"I can understand why."

Hesitating once more, Caine glanced at him, "We, uh, had a bit of a chat before I left, and…well, we were bouncing between names, but once we know if it's a boy or girl…and if it's a boy…I wanted to know if you'd be okay with me calling him Spencer."

When Mike didn't respond, Caine flinched.

"Sorry. I understand if it's too soon. I can choose a different name, if you want—"

"No." Mike responded, "No, I like it. It'll be good. To know that a bit of him is still there…living onward."

"He'd be, either way, Mike. In you. I just…I just don't know how to do this. I've been in countless gunfights, been on death's door thrice in just the last year, and witnessed so many horrors…and yet, this is probably the most terrified I've ever been."

A small smile formed on Mike's face. "Don't be. You'll be fine."

"I don't know about that. How can…how can I be a father? Someone like me…I just don't know if it's right. But I guess I have to make the best of it. The least this kid deserves is a good childhood…even if he could do with so much better."

They remained silent for a moment before Caine remembered something. "Right. Forgot to mention…I've got something for you."

Opening the car door in the front, Caine retrieved a large duffle bag. Passing it to him, he didn't waver when Mike raised an eyebrow. Hesitating, Mike opened the duffle bag.

Inside, to his shock, were stacks of green.

"I had the boys in my department count it all." Caine said, "$100,000, in total. I wanted to get more for you, but this was all I can wrangle out of the Crucible. We've also ensured that you won't be pursued by the Police, in case your name comes up in the investigation."

Mike felt his breath grow short, so he forced himself to breathe. "Tom…thank you. But…what about Fazbear Entertainment?"

"I probably shouldn't mention this to you, but I've also requested that you be monitored and protected for the next year. Until we can guarantee that they won't go after you. It would take a lot of work, anyway. We made a point to have your information wiped off their system."

"A new start," Mike mumbled, "just as you promised."

"You deserve that much, if not more. So…what's your plan?"

"Me and Benji…once he's ready to move, we're heading to the other side of the country. Try to forget everything that happened. His uncle has some land over there. Nice and empty. We can try to make a life for ourselves, over there."

"That's good. Not many people get that chance." Caine fell silent for a moment, "Mike…I'm sorry."

Not sure how to respond to that, Mike allowed him to continue.

"I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you. The animatronics…I was wrong about them. They weren't murderers, or monsters. They were a bunch of scared, wronged kids, dealt a hand that shouldn't have even been in the deck. Maybe if I had seen that earlier…this wouldn't have happened."

Mike shook his head, "I don't think so. I think…this is how it would have gone either way. They were doomed from the start."

"Maybe." Standing up, Caine took in the view of the lake, "In that bag, I've left a number. If you ever need anything…help…then call it. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thank you, Tom."

"As of now, the Fazbear Conspiracy case in officially closed. But to me…it's not even close. We're out of leads, but I'll keep it monitored, and if you ever want help to pursue it, I'll be there. You can count on it."

"There's a lot of unanswered questions." Mike agreed.

"And I just hate unanswered questions."

Smiling, Mike shook his hand when it was offered.

"Goodbye, Mike Schmidt, for now at least."

"And you too, Thomas Caine."

Stepping back into his car, Caine slowly drifted away. Walking back over to his bike, Mike secured the bag on his back before starting to drive away. He waved at Caine, who waved back, before Mike went down the opposite way.

Mike smiled as he drove down the road. He knew that whatever was in store for him, he was going to make the best of it. It wasn't just for himself, after all.

This was for his mom and dad. And for that silly gang of animatronics that were routing for him.

But either way…he had a strong feeling that this wasn't the end of his experience with Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.

The End…for now.

So, that's it.

Almost eight years ago, I started trying to write this story. Countless tries, countless discontinued attempts.

I've finally overcome a obstacle that has eluded me for the better part of a decade.

Now before I talk about what comes next, I just wanted to thank each and every single one of you for reading this story. Just remember that if you ever want to voice your thoughts, show your support, say what you think will happen, or to voice your complaints or criticism, please don't be afraid to do so. I'd rather know if I'm doing things correctly or not, rather than not knowing at all.

I wanted to thank vaetta for their support of the series so far. Having longterm readers and supporters is great to have.

Most of all, I would like to thank TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3, Cheah, for their constant support throughout this. It would be an understatement to say that this project has been difficult. Over a hundred-thousand words...it's the longest project I've ever made. You kept me motivated to keep with it, even when it got difficult. I talked with you about it through PM, but I loved the fan art you made. It made my day, seeing it.

Now...as for what happens next. This isn't the end, of course. We're heading to FNAF 3, next. I should warn you that there will be a time skip and it's going to be quite large. I'm talking about decades, technically an entirely new millennium. It's been weird, writing in the 90's, but we're going to more familiar territory, here.

Until then...I will be seeing you all later.