A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I just wanted to let you all know that I read all of them!

"I think some of the staff are growing curious about you," Freddy said, standing just outside the door to the security office, "I hope you don't mind that I attempted to correct some of the misconceptions they had about you. I did the best I could to paint you in a positive light."

"I don't mind," Michael said, flipping through a rather thick phone book, "though I don't think I deserve to be described so favorably."

"You really don't need to go beating yourself up so much," Freddy fretted, "If nothing else you at least deserve the same decency and respect as everyone else."

"Yeah, well, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not everybody else, I'm Michael Afton, the freak who lurks in the darkness of Freddy Fazbear's pizzeria, avoiding anyone and everyone because he happens to be a decayed corpse."

"Afton?"

Michael's head shot up, glancing over to Freddy, before looking back down to the phone book, trying to play it off as if it had never happened.

"I thought your last name was Schmidt?" Freddy tilted his head ever so slightly, confused.

Michael stood up, looking the animatronic in the eyes, "Freddy, I'm trying to work here. Do you mind if we continue this conversation another time?"

"Of course," the bear said reluctantly, "Before I go, do you mind explaining the… decayed corpse line?"

"I'm supposed to be dead Freddy. Had an unfortunate scooping accident a few years ago I'd rather not get into. Now If you'll excuse me, I need to get back to this."

Michael turned back to his desk, when he was suddenly caught off guard by two animatronic arms wrapping around him. For a moment, for one horrific moment, he was overcome with utter terror. All he could think of was how he must have said something wrong. Surely this was it, he had gotten too casual with the animatronics, and now they were going to kill him, just like he had feared. After a few seconds passed, however, he began to notice how… nothing else was really happening.

"Um… Freddy?"

"Yes Michael?"

"What… what are you doing?"

"Hugging you. This is a hug."

"Ok but… why?"

"Because you needed one."

Michael was unsure how to respond. He needed a hug? What did that even mean? No one needed a hug. People needed food, they needed water and sleep, but there was no part of basic survival that meant someone needed a hug to live. After all, he had never once been hugged by his own father and he had turned out… ok, bad example. Maybe he really did need a hug. Michael pulled away from the bear, turning around to get a good look at him.

"While I appreciate the… sentiment, I really don't think now is the time," the security guard said in a detached manner.

"I see," Freddy looked somewhat dejected at the response, "I'll leave you alone then. Let me know when you think it is an appropriate time, and I will be there." He ducked out of the office, glancing back as he disappeared around the corner.

Michael shook his head, sitting back down in his seat. He had had enough distractions for the night as it was. He had originally intended to go straight for the phone book in order to find the number, but upon entering, he had been met with a myriad of demands. First, he had to deal with Roxy melting down over the fact that one of the children had chipped some of her paint, which apparently "ruined her image". After that, he had to convince Monty to not destroy one of the arcade machines just because someone had beaten his high score. Lastly, there was Chica, who despite being warned otherwise, had raided the kitchen and gotten cheese stuck between her joints.

By the time he had the opportunity to find the phone book and sit down with it, over half the night had already gone by. A part of him was beginning to wonder if his job was easier avoiding near death with the old animatronics. He shook his head glancing down at the battered old book. He had only just managed to get to the E for Emily section, when he felt a chill run down his spine. He sat up, a feeling of dread creeping throughout his body.

It's me.

The words flashed in his mind for only a moment, along with the all too familiar image of a Golden Freddy. Michael recoiled back in horror, unsure if this was really happening, or just his mind playing tricks on him.

We're still here.

With that, it stopped. Michael looked around, checking for any sign that someone had been there, though he knew he wouldn't find anything. Ghosts didn't leave finger prints. He shook himself, hoping the horrid chill which came over him would fade. He wasn't used to feeling something so visceral. At this point, he had gotten used to the ever-present pain which came with his body, but this was a different sensation all together.

What was that? He had experienced it once before, back in his first week, but since then it had never happened again. Up until now, he had nearly forgotten about it. A part of him had assumed whatever it was would just fade away along with the other animatronics being taken, but clearly, he was mistaken. We're still here. At the very least, there was nothing ambiguous about that statement. The spirits of the children had yet to move on. It was silly of him to think that getting scrapped would do anything to help them. They were still stuck here. He needed to do something to help them. Whether that was finding the man who killed them and getting revenge, or talking to them more directly, he didn't know. As if he hadn't had enough on his table that night, now ghosts were just another entry on an ever-expanding list!

/

"I just don't get what the big deal is," Monty said, elbow deep in a round of Galaga.

"The 'big deal' is that I don't think Michael's last name is Schmidt," Freddy explained, pacing back and forth through the arcade as the three other members of the band stood on the sidelines, "He's lied and I do not know why."

"Yeah, I get that he's lied," the gater acknowledged, "I just don't get why it matters. I mean, it's not like he lied about something important, like breaking a guitar. It's just his last name."

"I agree with Monty," said Chica, leaning on one of the tables, "I mean as long as he looks after us, who cares what his name is?"

"It is not the name itself which bothers me," Freddy continued, "It is the possible implication."

"What are you going on about now?" at this point Monty was clearly just getting fed up with the fact that he was not being left alone.

"I'm just curious as to why he would lie about his name. He keeps saying that he isn't deserving of respect, and seems to think of himself as a rather bad person. Is it possible that he is hiding some sort of… secret past from us?"

Roxy glanced up from her mirror. She had been fiddling with her eyelashes as the conversation had been going on, but this clearly grabbed her attention. She exchanged eye contact with Chica and Freddy, while Monty still played his game.

This was the first time any of them had truly been suspicious of someone, and all four of them knew it. The fact that it was Michael of all people was especially shocking. If anything, Michael was the most trustworthy person in their lives. Not a single member of the day staff had displayed even a hint of the same care with which Michael had showed them, personally fixing any damage, helping to make sure they were well maintained. Even if it was just to keep his job, he did it with a lot more care and skill than most people had.

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Roxy offered, "we can't know anything for certain until we have the facts. Freddy, weren't you the one who just earlier today told Aiden and Jessie that they should rely on first-hand accounts, and not baseless rumors?"

"Yes."

"Well, there you have it, you're doing the same thing you accused those two of. You're creating rumors based on one little detail."

"I suppose you're right," Freddy took a seat on one of the chairs, looking rather defeated, "I guess I just wanted to figure out what Michael's story is. He keeps everything so close to the chest, I figured if I could help him open up a little it would make things easier."

"We've only been here for a few days, that sort of thing is going to take time," Roxy stated.

"I know."

"Don't go feeling bad about it," Chica comforted, "It was a noble goal."

"I suppose," Freddy agreed, though he felt the use of the word 'noble' was not particularly earned.

"It is a weird name though," Monty commented, prompting the other three to look over to him.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm just saying that Afton isn't a common name. With some research, it would probably be pretty easy to find out the full story."

"We're animatronics stuck in a pizzeria, how are we going to do research?"

"Relax, I'll just tell you myself," all eyes, even Monty's, turned to see the security guard standing at the entrance to the arcade, "I've been listening in on your little conversation via the speakers."

Freddy stood up, looking rather nervous, "My apologies for talking behind your back like that Michael, no offense was intended."

"I'm not mad Freddy," he said with a wave of the hand, "Believe me, I've had much worse said to my face, and besides, you have every right to speculate." He took a seat at one of the tables, trying to come off as casual.

"So, are you going to spill the beans or what?" Roxy asked, setting her mirror aside.

"Roxy, that is rather rude," Freddy chided.

"I'm just saying what we're all thinking!"

"It's fine," Michael said, "The answer is yes, in a manner of speaking, I am here to… well, to set things straight if nothing else." All four animatronics stared at him intently, waiting on what he was about to say next. Michael shifted, rather uncomfortable at all the attention. "First things first, I don't want any of you gossiping to the day staff about this. The only reason I'm telling all of you is because I don't want unneeded tension around here."

"You have our word," Freddy vowed, with nods from the other three.

"Very well," Michael began, "As you already know, my real last name isn't Schmidt, it's Afton, Michael Afton. I used the alias because my father… let's just say if people knew who my father was and what he has done, then it would cause considerable complications for me. I know you're a bunch of animatronics hot off the assembly line, so you probably don't know much, but this company has a bit of a bloody history, one which I had the misfortune to be born into. The name Afton carries with it the sound of death, the worst kind too. I'm not perfect, I've never pretended to be, but if anyone is going to stop my father from committing more murders, then it has to be me. And so, I came here, under an alias, hoping to find… I don't even know at this point, but I wanted to help in some way. No matter what I do, I always find myself ensnared in his shadow. Each crime he has committed, it haunts me in a way, as if I was there to witness it myself. I may be a monster too, but I'm at least trying to put things right before I die.

"I'll happily embrace the fires of hell, once I know all lose ends have been tied up, and justice has been served to the man who has ruined the lives of so many. Until that time, I am forced to walk the Earth in this corpse of a body, knowing nothing but pain or numbness. All I ask is that you allow me to carry out this goal in peace."

The animatronics stood there, not entirely sure how to respond. They had been programed to entertain children, not give thoughtful answers to people seeking revenge against their fathers. Michael stood up, not expecting them to say anything in turn. He began to walk out of the arcade when he felt a hand upon his shoulder.

"Michael… wait," it was Freddy, "I… I don't think any of us will ever be able to properly understand what it is you are going through, and I won't pretend that I do. If nothing else though, you need to understand that even if I ever had my doubts, I never for a moment suspected that at your heart, you are not a good man."

"Your too generous with me Freddy," Michael sighed, "You hardly know me."

"I know enough," with that, the bear took him in for another hug.

"Oh, not this again!" Michael complained. Before he could break free, Chica joined in, then Roxy, with a somewhat reluctant Monty coming in last.

"Michael, we want you to know that we care about you," Freddy said.

"And this is what people who care about each other do," Chica added.

Michael grumbled, as far as he was concerned, this hugging was only a waste of time. At least, that was what he thought at first. As much as he didn't want to admit it, there was something nice about knowing there was someone (or something) out there that actually cared about him. He had always told himself that this was something he never really needed, but in truth, that was only because it was something he had never truly had. The only people who he had ever loved were long dead now, leaving him all alone. He never wanted to feel that pain again. To know what it felt like to lose someone, there was no reason to go putting himself through it again.

Then, all of a sudden, Michael realized he was suffering from a slightly different kind of pain, "Uh, guys? I think you're crushing me," he wheezed. The animatronics immediately backed off, somewhat embarrassed.

"Sorry," Freddy apologized.

"It's ok just… maybe don't do it to anyone who still has their bones intact," he turned around, pausing by the exit to the arcade, "You were right by the way… I think I might have needed that."