Hey! If you're enjoying this work, you might like "TMBTS- Short Stories," which you can find on my profile. It's a collection of stories from this universe that aren't included in the main timeline- you can read the latest one on Michael's "becoming a bully" story. Hope to see you there! Thanks for reading!

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Baby's eyes watched the mangle of mess and coil that her companions in the underground had become as they slithered and crawled between the shadows of buildings, following the same sound that had drawn her to this place. Their jumbled bodies scratched and scraped the concrete as they moved, eyes swiveling to check every corner in their travel.

She'd known they'd come. And she also knew they wouldn't hold themselves back from taking the bait laid for them.

Her animatronic ears perked as she leaned forward on the skates she'd fitted for her feet, the mysterious allure of children laughing, oblivious and ready for the taking ringing out for miles.

She knew it was a trap from the moment she'd heard it... but nonetheless...

She watched as Molten Freddy collapsed under the street light illuminating the alleyway, head turning to try and locate the source of the sound. When it remained unknown, it slumped against one of the metal garbage cans propped against the diner's red brick wall, jaw hanging loose, lost for energy.

Her eyes narrowed. Perhaps they were waiting, like she was. Unlike her, however, was that they were waiting stupidly for whatever laid the trap to come collect them.

She could hear their hushed whispers, voices more deranged than usual, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. Disappointed, Baby frowned and leaned back in her hiding place, the scrap pieces of plastic she'd fashioned for her new body scraping the wall behind her... she would wait. And watch. Then, she'd make her move.

She looked down, examining the claw she'd made for her hand.

"Then when?" she had demanded. "When will I be allowed to stay with you?"

Her father's gaze did not meet hers.

"When they are all reunited," he'd answered evenly. "Every last one. We'll have our family back, Elizabeth. I promise you that." His dark eyes lifted to hers. "But only when they are brought together. Do this for me and we can all be together again. We'll never have to be separated."

His words echoed in her ears again, as they did every day, every hour that went by unfulfilled. She had to do this eventually, or he wouldn't give her what she'd promised.

Her gaze lifted back to Molten Freddy as it began to power off for the night.

She wanted so badly to take them right then and there- with her new body, she knew she could... but something about this place and the thing that had drawn them both there made her hesitate.

Something was going on here, and she was going to find out what.

As Baby settled back into her shadowy nook, the sound of a car pulling into the diner's lot caught her attention and she straightened. It was nearly midnight and the restaurant was certainly closed... meaning the only person who might be there would be...

The manager. And perhaps, whoever had set the audio lure.

She rose to her feet, eyes watching Freddy carefully as she glided on her skates around the other alleyway and leaned against its wall, watching the front doors.

A man in a long coat was walking to the entrance where he stopped and examined a ring of keys in his hands, fingering through them to find the one he was looking for. She leaned closer, examining his face. He looked so familiar... but she couldn't place how, or where.

Finding the one he needed, he straightened and his face caught a sliver of street light.

She gasped.

Baby stared, studying Henry in surprise as he pushed open the doors and ducked inside. His hair was grayer, eyes tired, and face more lined than when she'd last seen him, but it was unmistakably him.

She leaned back, thinking.

What was Henry doing here? That was a man she- Elizabeth- hadn't thought of in some time. Yes, her father suspected his role in this somehow, but she hadn't cared much about his involvement either way... until now.

Her ears perked as he exited the building, carrying a small, boxy item in one hand.

To Baby's surprise, she felt a lurch of longing to run out and meet him, one she knew came from the old Elizabeth. She quashed it immediately.

"No." she told herself firmly. "You childish, selfish thing."

Her old desires, and memories, the person she once was hadn't asserted itself in a long time. In fact, she'd hardly needed to negotiate with that part of herself since they were locked in the underground. The soul had been crushed out of her then, or so she thought... she'd need to keep a tighter reign on herself if she was going to fulfil her father's wishes.

She felt the desire die as soon as it came and her eyes focused again on Henry as he circled to the back of his car and opened the trunk.

Her head tilted curiously as the man heaved out a large, black figure and propped it against the car. He raised a hand and pressed something at the back of its neck and fiddled with the object he'd retrieved from the restaurant, and when he did, the figure suddenly straightened.

Baby watched, intrigue only increasing as its one working eye glowed dimly, illuminating the red hat and bow-tie it wore as it looked once at Henry, who pressed another button on his remote. When he did, it strode away from him into the dark maze of buildings surrounding them.

Henry watched it go, an almost regretful look on his face before he closed the trunk of his car and climbed into the driver's seat and left the parking lot.

Baby's eyes followed him, a small smile growing on her face.

"How... interesting."

Michael crossed the threshold of the front door, the smell of dinner wafting his way as he kicked his shoes off. He walked down the hall, breaching the kitchen where Dana was ladling soup out of a pot on the stove.

"What's cooking?" He asked, setting his bag down to take breakfast dishes to the sink.

"Chicken-noodle. We made some cheesy bread too since we closed early," the woman answered, bringing bowls of food to the table.

Michael shrugged off his jacket. "You did?" He asked.

"The last party cancelled on us," she elaborated. "Things are getting busier already, though. It seems people missed having a Freddy location in town."

He hummed. "Guess I'm not wasting my time ordering all those new upgrades, then. Where is everyone?"

Dana pulled a tray of toast from the oven and set it on the stove, removing her oven-mitts. "Let's see... Laura went to water the plants in the back and Henry's been running around doing whatever it is he does. He should be back soon, though, he wanted to hear how things went."

As if on cue, the garage door opened as Henry walked in, hanging his bag on one of the mudroom hooks.

"Well, that was less successful than I'd hoped," he sighed, crossing the room to the table as he sat down, running a hand over the blonde stubble on his face- the man had started growing a beard for the first time that Michael had seen.

Michael tilted his head. "What were you up to..?"

The man's blue eyes met his as he dropped his hand. "Trying to track down your old man," he answered in a mutter, looking back at his hands on the table. "He's been, ah... frustratingly elusive." He shook his head and cleared his throat. "But, anyway- what about you? How did it go today?"

"Well... I'm not dead," Michael joked with a small smile. "Really, though, it was a lot easier than I thought it'd be. Freddy hardly moved out of the closet, if at all."

Henry raised an eyebrow as Dana sat next to him and began to eat. "Really..?" He questioned.

Michael nodded. "I kept track of him all day. I'm not sure he even climbed up to the vent."

The man hummed, covering his mouth with one hand thoughtfully. "Strange..." he murmured. "I would have expected them to be active almost immediately."

Dana took a drink from her glass. "Well," she said. "If I know anything about animatronics, they're much tamer the first day or two. Then they start ramping things up."

Michael smiled a little and swallowed another spoonful of soup. "Have experience with that, do you?"

"Lots, actually. I wasn't joking when I said I was a veteran," she replied matter-of-factly, standing to take her dishes to the sink. "And just be grateful you don't have Balloon Boy there to irritate you 'till morning."

The boy's brow furrowed. "What's a Balloon Boy..?"

"Nothing," she muttered with some distant bitterness as she came back to her seat and drained the rest of her glass. "Henry, did you still want help taking those packages to the pizzeria?"

"Yes, actually," he replied as he finished the last of his dinner. "Let's go do that now while we're thinking about it." He stood, and looked at Michael as he folded his coat over his arm. "We'll be back in an hour or so. Call if you need anything."

The boy nodded, going back to his dinner as they left through the garage. Not a minute later, the back door opened and closed.

"Hey," Laura greeted, sitting at the plated seat beside him.

Michael nodded her direction, swallowing the food in his mouth. "Hi. How'd things go today?" He asked. She shrugged, sipping soup from her spoon. "Alright," she answered. "We had a kid throw up after drinking like, three cans of soda in one sitting."

He snorted, almost choking on his drink, and she grinned.

"Yeah, his parents weren't pleased," she continued with a smile. "But as far as I could tell, it was because they wouldn't let him have sweets at home. He was on a total sugar-high with all our party favors."

The boy chuckled as he gazed at her, propping his elbow on the table. "Yeah, I bet they loved that."

She hummed. "Yep," she nodded. "So, uh... you're not dead. That's great."

"No need to sound so disappointed- ow!"

She shrugged, slurping down the last of her soup as he rubbed his arm where she had punched it. "Yeah, it's a total bummer that my boyfriend came home from his work-shift. Whatever will I do?" She questioned innocently.

"Maybe find someone else to be your punching bag..." he muttered, unable to hide the smile pulling at his mouth. She raised an eyebrow.

"Someone else? Nah." She stood, taking her empty bowl to the sink. "Plus, I know I'm totally safe doing- hey!"

She shrieked in surprise as Michael lifted her by the waist and hoisted her over his shoulder, marching out of the kitchen as she squirmed in his grasp. He dumped her over the back of the sofa and she toppled onto its cushions only to look up at him as he smirked innocently down at her, chin propped on folded arms, leaning on the sofa's back.

"You were saying?" He grinned.

She huffed, brow furrowing, but he could see the hint of a smile tugging on her mouth. He walked around the sofa and sat next to her as she got up and scooted close to him.

"But really, how was everything today?" She asked as he turned on a random night-time movie.

He shrugged. "Fine, actually. I guess... well..." he murmured, frowning a little. "Nevermind."

"No, what is it?" She asked.

Michael sighed as he set an arm around her shoulders, brow furrowing in thought. "I just... well, it felt like I was being watched or something when I left today. But I was probably just tired or something, wanting to get home."

She hummed thoughtfully, tilting her head to his shoulder. "Hmm... maybe..."

The boy shifted, eyes mindlessly watching the TV screen. "Probably isn't a big deal." He murmured.

They sat in silence for a few minutes with the volume low, eyes drooping in the dim light of the living room before Laura curled up closer to him with a relaxed sigh.

"It's been seven years since we met, hasn't it?" She said quietly.

"Yeah... about."

Silence passed for another few moments as one of her hands found his free one, bringing it to her lap to hold it. "I still remember the first time I saw you." She murmured.

He looked down at her curiously. "Yeah?" He asked.

"Yeah. I thought you were a total dork."

Michael snorted. "I'm glad to know I make good impressions." He joked.

He watched as a tender, reminiscent smile grew on her face while her fingers traced the faint lines on his palm. "I thought you were a total dork because you volunteered to fix the projector in Ms. Brown's class when it wasn't working, when no one, not even the janitor could get it working just right. But you actually fixed it," she spoke.

He couldn't help himself. "Well, that was the general idea."

She smacked his hand lightly.

"Ow," he said, though he didn't mean it, smiling as her fingers resumed their tracing, exploring every freckle and scar.

"Well... turns out you weren't just good at fixing stuff. You were good at a lot of things, but really, you were just humble. You weren't all proud and haughty like the other boys were..." she murmured in a soft and quiet tone, gaze unfocused. "You were quiet and modest... I liked that."

Michael considered this as he watched her hands continue their gentle ministrations, but said nothing while he hoped for her to say more about these things she hadn't before said.

Laura went on.

"You were so talented. And kind to everybody- but you still stuck up for yourself, and for me when people didn't treat us right," she spoke. She looked up, gazing at him as if searching his expression.

"I think it was your eyes I found first," she whispered. "When I looked at you, I could tell what you were feeling because you had nothing to hide. You didn't pretend to be someone you weren't," she uttered in a soft breath. "For so long, I wanted someone to trust, and I realized I could trust you. I knew just by looking into your eyes... I knew you'd been hurt by something, too."

Michael's shoulders relaxed.

"I told you what happened to my brother when I did because I thought... if you didn't want to be friends with someone like me, I might as well know sooner than later," he murmured quietly. "I didn't want to lead you along only to break it all with the truth."

At that, she gave a small smile. "Yeah," she said. "That's what I guessed."

She looked back down at their hands and breathed out a quiet laugh. "And when you did, that's when I knew you could be friends with a person who was newly devastated over their parents divorce. And I was right. You let me feel all that hurt and never minimized it."

Michael raised an eyebrow. "How could I not?" He questioned.

"You'd be surprised."

They said nothing for a few moments, the TV movie entirely forgotten as they relaxed in each other's presence.

"I guess you could say we had that in common," Michael finally spoke quietly. "We both wanted someone to trust. I'd never had a friend like you before."

Laura held his hand and curled closer. "And I, you," she returned. His arm wrapped further around her as he took in the comforting warmth of her touch, the gentle tickle of her hair on his cheek, and the press of her body next to his. She sighed.

"It's... funny... how early on I liked you," she admitted. "I can't even tell you how many times I wanted to just... hold your hand, or sit next to you, or keep our hugs going just a little longer."

He peered at her with a small frown. "Why didn't you?"

She shrugged, head turning away for a moment. "I guess I thought it'd scare you off or something and that you wouldn't want to be my friend anymore. I didn't want to risk it, especially since... I thought you wouldn't feel the same," she muttered. "Who would?"

Michael turned his hand up and held one of hers, looking intently at her. "Who wouldn't?" He asked.

Her head tilted to look at him. "I was just your weird friend, right? A common-as-clay outcast who couldn't get her parents to stay together just a little longer."

The boy frowned. "That's not how that works," he said gently.

She sighed. "I know. But it's how it felt."

He held her closer, head tilting onto hers. "Well... you know. I was more than shocked when I told you what I did to Evan and you chose to stick around anyway. I guess you weren't the only one feeling..."

"Worthless?" She finished quietly. He nodded.

She breathed out softly. "Yeah. I could see the regret all over. I knew you didn't mean to. I knew you did that because you were hurting."

Michael's eyes stared forward as he recalled his father's screaming words of admonishment without any trace of mercy, and the suffocating shame he'd felt then returned for a brief moment. But it quickly faded as he remembered Laura, thirteen-years-old, bearing pain of her own but also meek understanding as he told his tale. He remembered for the first time feeling truly forgiven for what he'd done.

He pulled her closer, nose turning to her hair as his eyes shut. "I'm really glad I met you, Laura Rose," he whispered.

Her arms wound around him and hugged him tight. "Me too, Mike," she returned. "We're gonna get through this. We're going to save them. One way or another."