After sitting in the security office for ten minutes, Gregory came to the conclusion that he was not keen on the Freddy Fazbear security guard. It was bad enough that the guy was a gross zombie, but the fact that he appeared to be somewhat competent at his job just made him all the worse. Normally, when adults tried to get information out of him, they usually just became frustrated and left him on his own, at which point he snuck away. In contrast, this guy (Michael, was it?) seemed fairly dedicated to getting the info he needed.

"Look kid, there's no reason to be so difficult. Just give me your parent's number already!"

Gregory merely stuck his tongue out in response, much to the guard's annoyance.

"Perhaps it would be better to try another approach," Freddy suggested. He had been sitting beside the boy for the duration of the interrogation, though he had not said much up to that point. "After all, it's easier to catch flies with honey than with vinegar."

Michael pinched the bridge of his nose, pulling up a chair and getting on eye level with Gregory. The child was getting used to the guards rotted face, but there was still no way he could look at it without feeling somewhat grossed out. He began to squirm, wishing this would be over already.

"Look kid, I'm gonna level with you," Michael said, far calmer than before, exhausted if anything, "My shift will be ending soon, and I'll have to go. If you don't tell us what your parent's number is, then you'll just get handed over to the police, and they'll be the ones in charge of you."

Gregory immediately sat up straight, the color fading from his face, "No, please! I don't want them to send me back to-" he stopped himself just in time, not even realizing what he had said. It was too late though.

"That explains it," Michael nodded to himself, "you're an orphan I'm guessing?"

"I never said that."

"Sorry kid, but you've revealed enough of your hand. Let me guess, the real troubled youth type? Maybe adopted a few times, only to get handed back for acting out?"

"Shut up!" the boy spat.

Freddy placed a hand on Gregory's back, "Michael please, there is no need to upset the boy."

"Based on that reaction," the guard stood up, walking over to the phone, "I didn't say anything that wasn't true."

"Please, I don't want to go back!" Gregory begged, surprised at the desperation in his own voice. Was this really all it took for him to break, for him to lose? He had always thought of himself as much more capable, more so than the adults around him at the very least. Despite this, he had been captured in mere minutes, and was now unable to get away from a bear animatronic and a rotting corpse.

"I know you don't like it kid, but believe me, it's better than the alternative," Michael said, one hand already holding the phone.

"What would you know!" Gregory yelled without much thought, "I bet your parents were just the best!"

The phone slammed down. Michael ferociously whipped his head to the boy, stomping over so fast Gregory thought he was going to hit him. The guard pointed a finger in his face, his once cold dead eyes now alive with fury.

"You listen here," his voice was more collected than expected, but still held a strong sense of passion behind it, "You might think you have it bad, but trust me, if you had a father like mine, you'd be singing a different tune. Tell me, did you ever have to hide your bruises from the other kids at school? Did you ever lie awake at night, having to hear your brother crying in the other room? Did you ever stand on your front porch, bracing to enter the house, because you never felt comfortable in your own home?" Michael stepped back, now realizing that he was the one who had revealed too much. What was it about this kid that got him so… worked up? He glanced toward Freddy, only now realizing that the bear was looking to him with concern.

"Michael… is… is all that true?"

The guard turned away, ignoring the question and picking up the phone once more, "I'm not going to pretend I know everything you've been through, but I'm willing to bet there are worse options for you out there."

"Please," this was the first time the boy's voice came off as truly scared, "I… I just don't want to go back." Despite the man's lack of facial expression, it seemed to Gregory that there was a sadness to him in that moment. A reluctance of some kind if nothing else. He stood there, somewhat hunched over, staring down at the phone in his rotten purple hand.

He set the phone down. Gregory's heart skipped a beat at the sight, not entirely sure what was happening.

"I'll make a deal with you kid," Michael glanced over to the boy, "my shift's going to be ending soon. Once I leave, I won't have any jurisdiction over you. If you just so happen to slip away due to this, and never come back, then there won't be anything I can do about it. Understand?"

Gregory nodded, "Uh-huh."

The security guard reached for one of the keys which was looped on his belt, tossing it to Freddy, "Just consider yourself lucky I have my own shit to deal with and don't have time for kids like you."

"Michael! It is inappropriate to use such language around a child," Freddy chastised, midway through unlocking Gregory's handcuffs.

"That's ok," the boy said enthusiastically, "I already know them all! Shit, piss, damn, bitch-"

"I think that is enough Gregory," the animatronic interrupted, a tad flustered.

"Nice to know that children's vocabulary hasn't devolved much since I was your age," Michael said with a shrug. Gregory could have sworn he saw the faintest hint of a smile on the man's face, but it was hard to tell with the lack of lips.

/

Michael paced around his rather small apartment. He was determined to do it this time. He needed to keep reminding himself that it was no big deal. Really, what was the worst that could happen? Ok, admittedly, a lot could go wrong. As far as he knew, Henry was the one person left who was both alive and didn't hate him. He looked over to the phone, before pulling his eyes away and resuming his pace.

What was the best thing to say in a situation like this? Hey Uncle Henry, it's Michael. I'm a corpse now, but I figured I would get in touch. How have you been? Perhaps that was a bit too casual. Maybe acting a bit more detached was the way to go? Greetings Mr. Emily. I realize it has been quite some time, but I thought I would give you a call and catch up. No, that was even worse. Not to mention he never talked like that. He looked back to the phone, staring at it from the other end of the room.

How would he react? Would he even believe him? It had been so long, for all he knew, Henry had probably assumed he had died a long time ago, right alongside the other Afton children. Surely the news that he was still alive would be a positive, right? Especially considering Charlie was… no longer around.

Michael strode over to the phone, reaching down shakily. To think, he had managed to conquer his fear of killer animatronics, but this was what set him off. Then again, maybe hanging out with the Glamrock gang had made him go soft? No, that wasn't it. He was fairly certain that no threat of bodily harm could scare him; his life was just endless pain at this point. The threat of losing this, however, was another matter entirely. He didn't have many human connections left. Even if he could make new ones, then that would still mean that the relationships he had formed before being scooped would be lost. From here on out, everyone he met would simply view him as a monster, just like that kid had. There were the Glamrock animatronics, but they were different. They weren't the same as real relationships, even if they sure felt like it at times. On the other hand, who was he to judge? Every day he felt a little less human, who was to say he was any different from the other monsters his father had created.

Henry would. He always knew what to say.

Michael dialed the number, placing the phone to his ear, waiting for someone to answer.

"Hello?"

It was quicker than last time. Michael was caught off guard by the rapid response. He had assumed that he had at least a few more rings before having to say anything, but it seemed like that was no longer an option. He had to say something. Anything.

Oh god no, it's happening again! He so desperately wanted to say his name, to tell Henry that he was right there and wanted to see him, and how he was searching for his father… but he couldn't. He just couldn't.

In a panic, he managed to say, "Henry… it's me."

For a moment, there was nothing but silence from the other end. The wait for a response felt unbearable. Had he heard him? Did he need to repeat himself? Michael pondered saying something else, but was unsure if he was able to.

Eventually, Henry responded, "William?" His tone was dour, like facing the devil himself. Just hearing the name made Michael feel unwell; what was worse was that he apparently sounded like the man, enough to confuse Henry if nothing else. The one benefit he had considered his newly decayed appearance to give him, was that he no longer looked like his father, though apparently even now he could not escape the man's shadow. To think, even his voice was beginning to betray him. After spending so many years in the US, he could have sworn that his accent had faded, but it seemed that was not the case.

"No! It's Michael!"

"Oh!" Henry stammered, "Oh my God."

Michael could only guess what the old man was feeling in that moment. Was it pure shock? Joy? Horror? Intellectual curiosity? For all he knew, Henry could have been weeping on the other end, though he didn't want to hold out hope for it.

"Michael… is… is it really you?" Henry's voice had a genuine vulnerability to it this time.

"It is."

There was another pause.

"I'm… I'm sorry," Henry said, shaken, "I didn't mean to bring Him up. I just… I just thought…"

"It's fine," Michael cut in. In truth, it was hard to ignore, but he was eager to move onto something else, "Look… Henry, I know it's been a while…"

"That's certainly one way of putting it. I thought you were dead!" he said it with the tone of an impassioned parent, one who was angry, but clearly cared about the safety of their child above all else.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean for it to be so long but… well, I don't know, things just got away from me!"

Henry laughed, "Michael please! Don't go apologizing! I might be mad, but I'll be damned if this isn't one of the happiest days I've had in a long time!"

Michael sat down on the bed, not quite sure what to say in response. Henry was happy. He was genuinely happy to hear from him.

"Listen," Henry said, "why don't you come by the house. We'll catch up."

Michael immediately felt his phantom heart sink at the words. He couldn't let the old man see him like this; he would suffer from shock upon the mere sight of him. Not to mention… Henry probably wouldn't be nearly as happy if he knew what had happened to him.

"Oh, I-I don't know if I really have the time."

"That's no problem, you name the date, any day works for me! I'll set aside my schedule for it."

Michael grit his teeth, trying to think of the best way to handle this. He couldn't just hang up now, and even if he did, there was no doubt Henry would just call him back. Maybe it was best to just be honest, or at the very least brace him for what was to come.

"Look, if we are going to meet in person, then there's something you ought to know…"

"Yes?"

There was a pause. Michael ran his hand down the side of his face, pondering the best way to explain his… condition.

"I've… I've changed since you last saw me. Physically I mean, well, not just physically but… well it's hard to describe."

"Just tell me. There's no way something as minor as your physical appearance is going to affect the way I feel about you."

Michael chuckled, "You say that now, but wait until you see the state I'm in. I suffered uh… oh how do I explain it? It was kind of a work place accident… well… ok it started with my father-"

"Did he hurt you?!" Henry cut in, clearly concerned.

"I think it's best if you just see for yourself when I get there. I'll explain it all then."

"Ok."

"I'll stop by Saturday. Does 10 work for you?"

"10am? It's a bit early, but I suppose."

"No, 10pm. It's better that I come by when it's dark out. Less chance of anyone spotting me."

"But why would… oh I see, your 'appearance'" Henry paused, "Very well, it works for me. If that's what you feel is best then I shall ready myself for Saturday."

"Great, I'll see you then," Michael was about to hang up, when a final few words on the other end caught his attention.

"I'll see you then Michael, love you."

"Love you too… Uncle Henry."

With that, he hung up.