UPDATED NOTES 1/25/23

Edited this chapter like I had hoped, and think I made a lot of improvements over the original. The next chapter is the very last chapter I'm hoping to edit like this, so I guess I'm 2/3rds of the way done. Roxanne's portion of this chapter got rewritten a lot. Likely more than anything else in this story. Not saying it's absolutely flawlessly perfect and amazing, but that should hopefully mean it's considerably better than it was the very first time I wrote it.

Anyway! Enjoy.

Everyone looks like they're in their rooms tonight. Makes my job easier, I guess. Not that I have to babysit them or anything.

It's a little unusual, though. I know Monty loves to walk around at night, simply for the sake of walking around. Roxanne is more likely to be found in her abode at the raceway than at the corridor everyone else is kept. If it were just one of these things, I wouldn't care, it's the combination of the two that starts to worry me. No one looks distressed or anything, so I doubt it's actually anything too important, but y'know..

I just started my first walk around the facility. The animatronic's corridor is pretty early on my list of places to walk through, so maybe it wouldn't be the worst idea to poke my head in.

No Trudge tonight. Turns out he stayed way later than I thought last night. Ended up hardly getting any sleep. He had more than enough energy for his shift, but it was pretty visible that he needed to go get some shut-eye before he loiters with the nightguard any more. It's actually for this reason Chica hasn't left her room yet; or that's my theory anyway. It's admittedly a little endearing to watch those two do stuff together. Chica's super friendly with everyone, it doesn't seem like Chica gives Trudge any kind of special attention at first until you watch her for a while and see that she might as well be Trudge's shadow.

The door to the corridor slides open, and I waltz on in. Freddy would be the easiest one of the four to get a clear answer from, so it may not be the worst idea to poke my head in.

I've always been a fan of this corridor.. It just looks nice. Has a pleasant atmosphere, even with the neon lights strung about from place to place. Somewhere you wouldn't mind doing homework in, y'know?

Man.. When's the last time I had to worry about something like homework? Turns out spending all your time undoing your father's work takes up quite a bit of your life.

I shake my head, trying to shake the thoughts out of my head. There's no reason for me to be thinking about these things anymore. Focus on what's happening now, instead.

The door to Freddy's room slides open as I approach. I simply stand in the doorway for a moment to make sure Freddy knows I'm coming in. He spins in his chair to look at the door, grinning warmly when he sees it's me.

"Michael! What a pleasant surprise..!"

"Hello, Freddy."

I take his positive reaction as permission to enter, so enter I do, taking a couple small steps and stopping a comfortable distance from Freddy himself.

"What brings you here with me tonight?" Freddy speaks to me like an old friend. He looks genuinely happy to see me, and genuinely interested in what I have to say. Everyone should have a Freddy in their lives.

"Did something happen today?" I say, trying to disguise my question as equally friendly conversation.

"..Did something 'happen'..? Such as an incident of some sort?"

Freddy seems actually oblivious, which makes me a little hopeful that I was just overthinking things back in the office.

"No one has left their rooms today."

"...Ah! And you thought that was because something bad happened?"

There we go.

"Yeah."

The bear sits back in his chair, shaking his head gently.

"There was no issue during today's performance, I can promise you that much."

I let my gaze fall a bit while I think, and start to let the concerns fade away. Just as I do so, however, Freddy apparently has more to say.

"..But, today had been Particularly slow. Now- not many guests vacation here during the middle of the week normally, but today was especially dreary."

I nod, starting to understand where he's going with this, and letting my worry evaporate from my chest.

"We performed electrically, but the energy simply wasn't matched in the crowd. There was even a case where a call-return from one of us went unanswered by the crowd, which understandably caused some awkwardness.." Freddy chuckles a little nervously, recalling the times where an attempt of psyching up the crowd had been met with total silence.

"So no, nothing was wrong today, the crew is simply feeling a little deprived after today's performances."

"Dissatisfied, right?" I chime in, taking an educated guess.

Freddy nods hesitantly, letting his upright posture mold into the shape of his chair.

"Well.. I would think so, yes.. There was never an opportunity to spend all of the energy we had saved up for the performance. I suppose it would be reasonable for the others to feel a little underwhelmed."

I nod in understanding, looking down to try and conjure up whatever emotions the animatronics might be feeling. Comforting someone with empathy is much easier than doing so with sympathy.

Freddy seems to catch on pretty quick, then suddenly perks up in his chair. Looks like I might've given him an idea.

"Ah! Michael!"

I look back up to match his gaze. Freddy scoots his chair closer to put his hands on my shoulders, taking a moment to conjure the words he needs to express his plan.

"Michael, can you do something for me?"

"Within.. reason.."

"Great. Here's what you should do-" Freddy pulls himself next to me and points at the door.

"Drop in the other member's rooms, and simply interact with them for a while. You don't even have to do much, I promise. They all know how little you tend to interact with others, so if they see you of all people walk into their room just to talk for a bit, I believe it will make them feel more appreciated."

I.. Don't really wanna do that..

Unfortunately, that logic makes sense. Freddy is assuredly more familiar with the feeling that they're experiencing than I am, so any advice I receive from him on the subject would likely be pretty accurate.

His logic is that I'm not exactly known for showing affection, so if I do, it'll mean more than it would if it were a regular person.

"Listen, I understand that you don't like talking very much, but I promise it would mean the world to them. Seeing you walk in here alone was enough for me to feel better about myself. There's no doubt in my mind they would feel the same way."

I look down a little. It feels nice knowing I made Freddy feel better, but now I feel like a bit of a douche since I only really visited to ask him what was going on..

...

"Alright."

"Thank you, Michael. Seriously, I will not forget this." Freddy returns to putting his hands on my shoulders. "And neither will they, I promise. Let me know how it goes-"

A weirdly arrogant/playful grin appears as he slaps something on my wrist. "Using this."

As you could probably guess, it was one of the Faz-Watches Freddy was likely working on. It looks just a tad bit bulkier than the rest, but more notably, it's monochromatic. I believe the intention was to go for a professional appearance, and he did a pretty good job making it look that way.

Freddy takes a couple steps back, proudly putting his fists on his hip like a superhero. I fidget with the device a little to make it comfortable, but make sure my body language implies that I'm still listening.

"I've been working on that one for a long while now. You aren't gonna find a watch as 'cool' as this one anywhere else." Freddy's chin is slightly lifted. He must be wildly proud of this thing.

"What's it do?" I ask, a little idiotically.

"Whatever you need it to do!" He responds, reasonably supplying a dumb question with an unhelpful answer.

Doesn't stop me from just staring at him in response.

"Well.., I built this one just for you. I put a lot of work into implementing as many features a nightguard could reasonably think to need."

Freddy leans in closer, and I hold my arm out to let him mess with the watch.

"For instance.." He taps around a bit. "You can use this to call anyone in the building who also has a Faz-Watch. It even tracks which Faz-Watch is currently being used by which person, so you can always get a hang of someone so long as they have 'any' Faz-Watch on them..!"

Freddy messes around in the menu, but doesn't actually call anybody. Thankfully, I think I can work the equivalent of a phone. I could see the contacts in the call list, it's already fully fleshed out with names. Only some of them are lit up, which appears to indicate that they are the only ones currently wearing/holding a fazwatch. At the very top of the list are all of the animatronics, all of which are lit up. Right below them is Trudge and my boss, who's named Arin.

Quick side note: Arin isn't the CEO, but he's very close with them. Arin is mostly business, so I very rarely ever actually need to speak with him unless something is wrong. Despite this, I know plenty well that Arin and the CEO are genuinely good and honest people. They were the first ones I was suspicious of back when I first joined. I tried finding even the smallest link between them and any of the events of the past, but just like my investigation of the building itself, I simply didn't find anything.

"I was sure to include all the features of the regular fazwatch, of course. I did improve them where I could, though. The map is of much higher quality, and the cameras are accessible from anywhere in the facility."

That was pretty nice, actually. The original map was shockingly unhelpful..

"Along with that, however.. Take a closer look at where we are right now."

I look down and do as I'm told. The map is definitely much easier to navigate, which is something I'm gonna be eternally grateful for in the long run. I zoom in on Freddy's room.

..It sure is a rectangle..

"..You see it?" Freddy asks following my uncertain silence. I look back at him, not entirely sure what I'm supposed to be looking at. He just kinda stares back for a few seconds before he starts waving his arms around. After a few seconds of utter confusion, a barely audible blip emanates from the watch.

There was a dot in the room, right around where Freddy was standing.

I quickly catch on, and start waving one of my arms around as well. Sure enough, a second dot appears. Meesa got a motion detector.

Seeing that I've figured it out, Freddy just chuckles.

"Good!" Freddy plops back down in his chair. "You'll see what else I've added as time goes on. Now then!"

He gives me a solid pat on the back.

"Thank you for visiting, Michael. Say hi to the rest of the gang for me."

"Sure."

"Actually, don't.. They might figure out that it was my plan all along. You understand.."

"Sure."

"Goodbye, Michael."

"Goodbye."

And with that, the door slides shut behind me.

Honestly, I'm still not the greatest fan of this idea, but I'm willing to admit that it is, objectively, a pretty solid plan.

I've suffered through worse than mild social interaction, though. I don't have a solid excuse not to go through with it either, so here I go..

Let's start with an easy one. Green Gator time.

The door slides open with noticeably more effort than Freddy's. Also making noticeably more noise. I wasn't exactly trying to sneak in, but I sure with my entrance wasn't this dramatic.

Of course, Monty was looking my way before the door was even able to open all the way. As soon as it does, I step in and give a small wave.

"Oh- Heya Mike!" Monty almost yells. He was laying down on his couch when I entered, must have caught him off guard.

"Hello, Monty."

The gator takes a quick second to sit upright.

"Oh man, Mike in the flesh! 'Prolly means I did somethin' though, huh?" He finishes with a small chuckle. "What brings you to my scrapyard?"

At this point, Monty had quickly gotten up from the couch, walked over to his chair which was laying haphazardly in the middle of his room. He stood with one foot on the chair, his arm resting on his raised leg.

"I just wanted to talk."

"You..Really?" That sure knocked the confidence out of him.

"Yeah. I just want to talk."

"Ahaha.. About.. what? Am I really in trouble?" The gator scratches the back of his head and laughs slightly.

"No. Just wanted to talk."

"Huh.." He takes his foot down from off of the chair. Standing straight up and looking at me with slight concern. "No offense, but I didn't think you ever wanted to talk with 'anyone'. You sure this ain't something serious? I'm willing to lend ya a hand if you need one."

"Thanks, but I really am just here to talk for a little while."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you ain't the real Mike."

"Who knows."

Monty chuckles.

"What are ya then- a mimic? Lookalike? Mike-a-like?"

I don't respond. Maybe this will progress the conversation onward.

Monty looks at me funny for a while, before a toothy grin finally escapes his clutches.

"Well then! I sure hope you know what you're getting yourself into, Mikalike!" He uses his foot to kick the chair towards me. I stop it's momentum, drag it closer to the couch where Monty looks like he's gonna sit, and finally sit in the chair. "'Cause now you might be thinkin' that you wanna talk, but pretty soon all you're gonna wanna do is find a way to make me shut the heck up."

Monty sits on the couch and faces me as if he's about to tell the worlds greatest pirate story.

And to his credit, over the course of about a half hour, he keeps me invested. He didn't really tell me a tale or anything, but simply talked about the million things he has going through his mind at once.

"How'd you end up convincing her?" I ask, sounding monotone, but I truly am pretty interested. I think Monty can tell, or he would have tried something else by now.

"Huehue.. Monty's got his charms, Mike-a-like. All I had to do was sprinkle in a little sad backstory, and Chica was terrified of the raceway for a month..!" Monty roars in laughter, and I let myself grin every now and then. People would probably stop messing with Chica if she didn't keep falling for it every single time.

Over the course of 30 full seconds, Monty manages to get himself under control. Once he does, he leans back on his couch and looks at me lightheartedly

"Ready for me to shut up yet?"

"I don't mind talking."

"Ha! Ya' might be the only kid who don't..!"

Pretty sure I'm older than him.

Monty stands up and takes the worlds most exaggerated stretch and sigh in existence before returning his gaze to me.

"Well. Now that you're in a better mood, ready to tell me what you came here for yet?" Monty playfully jabs at me.

Didn't we already have this talk?

"Monty-."

"Heeere it comes."

Calm down, big guy.

"I understand that I'm not very social. You were right to assume that I don't typically spend my time having conversations with people." I do my best to flash him a lazy smirk and lean back in his chair. "But I really did come here just to talk with you for a while. I promise, there's nothing else to it."

Monty's cocky grin slowly fades from his face, replaced by moderate disbelief. Frankly, he's entirely correct to think I wouldn't come here on my own without a reason, but there also truly isn't anything wrong. I did come here with the sole intention of talking to him.

"W-well.. Aha.." Monty looks a tad bit flustered. "Am I-, uh.. You really came here just for me?"

"Yeah."

"Man- you gotta warn me next time you do somethin' like this..!"

"Sorry, I will."

"D'aww, c'mere you!" Before I can comprehend his tone shift, Monty's wrapped me in a giant bear hug. After managing to get some air back in my lungs, I awkwardly try to hug him back.

"Arright, truth be told- I was havin' a rough day today." Monty finally releases me. "Wasn't feelin' myself, y'know? Felt like I didn't do a great job, and wasn't feelin' very loved. You coming in to talk with this green gator was the greatest thing to have happen to me all week."

"I'm happy I could help."

"Ha! I'm happy you could, too! Now-"

Monty leans down a little. Cocky grin returning.

"If I had to guess, you haven't finished all 'yer nightly duties for tonight, is that right?"

"That's right."

"Well, ya' don't need to worry about this guy anymore! Feel free to drop in anytime, Mikalike, and we'll talk s'more. But now, you needa get off your lazy bum and do what you're gettin' paid to do." I nod, before rapidly being ushered out of the room. "Arright! 'git!"

The coercing doesn't stop until I'm fully out the door, I turn my head enough to look at him one last time.

"But seriously! Drop by anytime! My doors always open!"

And then the door slammed shut.

All things considered, I think that went pretty well. Monty and I didn't talk much, but it's nice to know that I think our relationship improved a bit today. Nothin' like a bromance to really get the blood flowing.

I walk to the center of the corridor and take a second to breathe.

That was the most I've sat and talked to one person in as long as I can remember.. That was admittedly a little tiring.. Hopefully it won't take as long to talk Chica out of her little episode here.

...

That's a little weird to think about, actually..

They just.. 'had a bad day'.

The incredibly common idea of 'having a bad day at work' seems so exclusively human that the animatronics being a little under the weather due is just.. surprisingly normal for this 'wacky group of characters'.

I'm (hopefully) not an idiot. I've noticed how real the animatronics are. I've tried looking into their behavior and notice patterns that match how a computer would think, but there's just no way around the fact that they're sentient.

I don't know how, I don't know why, but I'm confident that there really aren't any kind of spirits involved.. Of course, that should open up a whole new can of worms about what should and shouldn't be possible, buuut.. I've seen and actively faced off against significantly less 'possible' impossibilities. At this point, it's starting to get easier just to roll with it.

A few moments of reinforcing my mental integrity pass with debatable amounts of success, and my feet carry me towards Chica's door. Bright pink and hard to miss. Smells for some reason. I think it's 'supposed' to smell good, and to their credit, it doesn't really smell bad per-se. It just kinda 'smells'.. Kinda like you described what a flower smells like to an alien and they tried to recreate it.

The door slides open with almost zero resistance in a weirdly noticeable contrast to Monty's. In my field of vision lies Chica sitting politely on her bed. She hasn't noticed me, despite facing in my general direction.

The bird looks deep in thought.. Reflective is the closest word I can apply to it. It's hard to determine what she's feeling, since her face only portrays a neutral emotion, but the body language gives me a small amount of information to work with.

I glance around for a way to make myself known without just 'appearing' in front of her, eventually settling with knocking on the wall.

"Come in!" She cheeps quickly before looking up and realizing that I'm already a good few steps in the room. "Oh! Mike?"

"Hello."

"Hiya! Whatcha doin'?" She positions herself to stand up from the bed the moment she decides she needs to.

"Just wanted to talk for a little while."

"Mhm! About what?"

"Anything."

"Okay!" Chica subtly flaps her wings "We can talk! Uhm..!"

"Did Trudge get himself into any trouble today?"

That oughta get her talking.

"Nope!" She beams. "He was working super hard today!"

That probably just means he didn't actively perturb any of the other staff for the duration of the day.

"How so?"

"Oh- Trudge took a lost kid to security and found his parents! Like a real security guard!"

Wait till she hears that Trudse is a real security guard.

Chica makes it sound like she's talking about a superhero. Admittedly though, that's a pretty good thing for Trudge to do.

"I don't remember hearing the intercom go off today. How'd he find the kids parents?"

"He took the kid on his shoulders!"

"..Where?"

"Everywhere!"

Uh oh.

"So he was like.. Looking for them? With his eyes?"

"Yeah!" Chica responds with a giggle "How else do you look for things, silly?"

"I thought you said he went to security?"

"Yep! After half an hour of looking I remembered that sometimes the parents go to security, so we went there next! Trudge told me I was smart..!" Chica flaps her arms around, expecting praise.

"..Y..Yeah. Good thinking."

She just giggles in response.

"OOH!" Chica jumps up and flares out of nowhere, immediately going silent again.

"...What?"

"Igottashowyousomething!" She excitedly brushes past me to get to her desk.

Tired of standing, I walk backwards until I hit the couch and flop down. Never taking my eyes off Chica, not wanting to miss whatever she's frantically looking for in that desk drawer of hers.

"Mmmm... Here!" She lifts a slightly crumpled piece of paper in the air, before nearly tripping herself to get over to me.

"So I've been making something to, uh! I've been-..!"

Chica's excitement suddenly starts to dissipate, being replaced with a more timid expression.

"I've been making something that I wanna give to Trudge..! I dunno what he likes though, so I thought I should check with you before I give it to him." She holds the paper close to herself, trying not to let me see it until she decides its time.

"Check with me?"

"Yeah! You and Trudge are more than friends! Like super-friends! Right?"

"I..Guess so.."

Whatever floats your boat. Y'know, Trudge's a lot more fond of you than he is of me Chica-Chee.

"So you must know if he'll like it or not, right?"

"Maybe. I'll take a look."

"Great, thank you.."

Taking a second to get over herself, she flips the paper over and shoves it in front of me.

Don't really know what I was expecting from a piece of paper, but all that's on it is a colorful drawing. A mildly crude one, but I don't know how much drawing practice these animatronics get. If I had to guess: Zero. It was, of course, a picture of Chica and Trudge standing togeth-

Oh, wait, that's not..?

...

It's a picture of ME and Trudge. Standing on a hill on a sunny day, flowers all around, a house in the background.

...

What?

"D..Do you not like it?" Chica mutters, sounding heartbroken at my confusion.

"No-, I like it, sorry.. Is that Trudge and me?"

"Mhm!"

Don't really know how else to ask this..

"Why?"

"..Well-, you and him are super-friends..?"

"What about you?"

"What do you mean?" She lowers the paper a little to maintain eye contact with me.

"You're also.. 'Super-friends' with him, right?"

"W-What!?" Chica visibly jumps.

"..What?"

"N-no! I just like following him around, I don't think he likes me too much. I'm just someone to talk during the day!"

"...What?"

"I mean- I would like to be super-friends, but he wouldn't wanna, y'know?

"Chica."

"W-What?"

"Draw yourself on that paper."

"No!" She hugs the paper again, turning her body away to defend the paper from me. "He wouldn't like it!"

"Why do you think he wouldn't want to be friends with you?"

"We are friends! Just not super ones!"

"Why not?"

"I-I could never-.."

..Chica's face is crimson.. Why doesn't she think he would want to be good friends with her?

"I-I'm an animatronic! That would be gross!"

"..What?"

I think she's off in a world of her own by now, but that doesn't make me any less determined to get an answer out of her.

"Y-yknow! When super-friends-..! K-Kiss and.." She fails to finish the rest of the sentence.

Oh wait.

Oh wait.

Wait.

"Oh- What? Chica?"

"H-huh?"

"What do you think 'super-friends' are?"

The two of us standing by a house together.

Being 'more than friends'

Mmmmm...

...

"W-when two people really like-"

Absolutely, positively not.

"Absolutely, positively not-" I lean forward on the couch, resting my elbows on my knees to keep me upright.

"H-Huh?" Chica recedes a bit in response.

"Chica."

"W-What?!"

"Trudge and I are not in a relationship."

"What do you mean..?!"

What do you mean 'what do you mean'?!

"You think we're dating?"

"T-that's something super-friends do!"

"I-, no, Chica. It isn't." I slowly start to relax back into the couch, exasperated. "Neither of us are dating anyone.."

There's a peculiarly long silence as Chica takes a moment to comprehend what I told her.

...

"He's not..?"

"..No, he's not."

"Wait- but you and him are always walking around together!"

"That's just how he is. He's walking around with you way more than he is with me."

...

"..S-so he's not dating anyone?"

"No, he isn't."

It takes a few seconds to register, but I know it does when I see her tail start to sway a bit.

"So you and Trudge are just friends?"

"Yes, just like you."

"J-just like me?"

"Pretty sure you're a better friend to him than I am, actually."

"I am?"

"Yeah."

"...S-so should I draw myself on this paper?"

I had almost forgotten about that thing, actually.

"Yes."

"Will he like it?"

"He would."

I can see the energy return to her circuits, eyes beaming like they were before. It doesn't take long before she's practically jumping up and down and scrambling to find whatever she was drawing with.

I can't help but sit and watch for a few seconds.. What other outlandish fantasies does she have going on in that noggin?

She freezes for a moment as if remembering something, before borderline tackling me in a hug.

"Thank you!"

"I, d-didn't-.."

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" She babbles, still jumping up and down with me in her arms.

Like flicking a light-switch, Chica practically teleports back to her desk to rummage around.

I catch my breath and take this as my opportunity to leave while she's preoccupied.. I don't think she'll be very talkative until she finishes that drawing. Regardless, I make sure to be as quiet as possible exiting the door. Thank god hers makes practically no noise..

...

Welp.

A sigh could never do what came out of my lungs justice.

It was great that we talked. I had fun. We also cleared up a shockingly glaring misconception.. But man, its just a lot. I was right thinking that I would have to talk to Chica for considerably less time, but I failed to remember that talking to Chica for any time at all is a high-effort activity.

Thankfully, She appears to be in way better spirits than when I found her. Guess I can chalk that up as a success.

...

I stand around for a few seconds, enjoying the peace. I'd never be able to express it with words alone, but it truly is relaxing. I listen to the clacking of my footsteps on the floor, admire the neon lights littered around the place, listen to the sound of the soft music emanating from a room somewhere in the distance...

Freddy was right.

This was a good idea. The animatronics are feeling better, I'm feeling.. 'better', I guess.. Tonight's just been a productive night.

...

Reckon things aren't gonna stay that way though..

I stand silently in front of Roxanne's door, which is all littered with various prop-car parts. It's one of the more well-decorated ones, which is a theme for her. She has a vibrant personality, one that you could easily get fascinated with, and one that she takes no shame in. However, she isn't perfect.. No one is, I suppose.

God knows I'm not.

...

The door slides open with a slightly different sound effect, resembling steampunky pressure-release rather than the standard futuristic 'shhh'.

I catch a glimpse of Roxanne in her room before she has the chance to recognizes the sound the door made. She was sitting in her desk, staring in her mirror, her head resting on her arms. She looks miserable, honestly.. I guess that makes sense.

Roxanne is especially sensitive of how people think of her, far more than the other members of the gang. So while a failed attempt at hyping up the crowd would be awkward for another member of the gang, it could be devastating for Roxanne.

I don't think this personality trait is a flaw, however. So when I find her looking like this, I can't help feeling a little sorry.. I cannot imagine this sorrow will be received very well in the near future, however.

Finally cognitively recognizing the sound, Roxanne lifts herself up quickly and turns her head in my direction. Jumping/twitching a little when she sees who's already invited themselves in.

"Michael?"

"Hello, Roxanne."

"What are you-? get out of my room!"

Goin' pretty well so far.

"I wanted to talk."

Roxy groans quietly under her breath, starting to turn back towards her mirror.

"I'm not in the mood today, Michael. What do you want from me?"

"Nothing important, I just want to talk."

"Yes- you said that already, what do you need to talk to me about?"

"Just about.. Anything?"

...

"What?"

That was.. Unexpectedly cold..

"Whatever you want to talk about, I guess."

It's uncomfortable trying to explain this to her.. The thoughts I'm conjuring sound reasonable in my head, but come out of my mouth like a middle-school child..

"...Fucking...What?"

"I'm trying to-"

"You came in here to 'talk' with me? Just to talk?" Roxanne repeats, turning her chair around to face in my direction.

"Yeah."

...

"Michael, I'm not an idiot."

"I know."

"You 'know'? If you 'knew', you'd either have explained yourself or fucked off already."

"Roxanne, I really am here to talk. I don't need anything else from you."

"You're lying to me again."

"No, I'm-"

Roxanne breaths a little sharply, placing a hand on her desk and using it to smoothly lift herself from where she was sitting.

"You really thought to yourself out there that you needed to talk with somebody, and 'I' was the best choice you could think of? Like that makes any damn sense?"

"..."

"Michael- We're the only two people who actively avoid each other. I fucking hate you. You know this."

She uses her arms to emphasize the 'hate' part. I like to think I'm tall, but Roxanne still has almost foot over me, and seeing her look down at me with contempt makes it harder to think of ways to remedy this situation.

..I can't keep this up, unless I give her some reason behind why I came here, she isn't going to let this conversation continue.

"Alright. Calm down, listen."

She tenses at being told to calm down, but eventually complies, crossing her arms and steadying her breathing.

"I heard that the show today was slow and disappointing, so everyone was feeling a little down. So F-" ..I shouldn't throw Freddy under the bus.. "So I thought I'd go and talk to everyone to make them feel a little better, since I rarely choose to interact with anyone."

There. That's.. 'most' of the truth. I feel kind of bad for claiming Freddy's idea as my own, but Freddy told me to try and do that anyway, so I'll stick to his advice.

I look up at Roxanne to await her response. She's looking a little to the side with her eyes zoned out, presumably trying to process this information and decide a course of action. I thought that maybe she'd appreciate my honesty more than she'd appreciate my attempt at a nice gesture.

It's not looking like it.

Roxy's looking down at me again.

...

She.. She is furious.

"Michael, who-" She stops mid sentence to try and get a hold of herself. "..Who the fuck do you think you are?" She almost yells, no longer trying to stay calm.

"I was just-"

"What the fuck did you think would happen when you entered my door? The problems would float away? As if 'you' aren't most of them..?!"

"No, I just wanted to talk."

"Fuck! Mike!"

That wasn't the best choice of words, apparently. Roxanne immediately tenses and throws her arms downward upon hearing me say 'I wanna talk' for the twelfth time. She looks like she wants to hit something.

"I hate you, you get that, right? You heard me say that the first ten times I said it, right? So what the fuck was your plan?"

Roxy pushes her chair behind her and marches a couple steps toward me.

"You thought I'd- what.. Appreciate the gesture of coming to talk to me? Just sit around and listen to your voice? Mike, everyone else might tolerate you, humor you long enough for you to get bored and fuck off, but I'm not like them, alright..?! I'm not gonna sit around and take your shit tonight..! Fuck-, if you want to come in here and give me a therapy session, who am I to stop you? Ready to learn how I 'feel', corpse?!"

I'm not sure I can stop her at this point.. Maybe it would be best to just sit here and take it, let her blow off a little bit of steam; it's clear that the frustration that's accumulated from today's performance is helping fuel this rage.. I don't think there's much I can do about that.

Roxanne takes a deep breath.

"You're a fucking curse."

"..A curse?" I respond curiously.

"A curse. Like a wandering spirit who won't leave me the hell alone. You never fail to show up when I'm at my lowest, and you never fail to make my day anything but worse..! You never fucking leave when I tell you to, which is only a problem with 'me' by the way!"

"I didn't-"

"Doesn't every conversation we have begin with me telling you to get the fuck out of here? And you never do? I see anyone else tell to you do something, and you obey them like a loyal fucking dog. They tell you to help? You help. They tell you to leave? You leave. And fuck, that's probably not even a bad thing or whatever, but I'd really fucking appreciate it if that obedience extended to me as well!"

"I try doing what people want when I can."

"Get out of here." She replies almost instantaneously, standing upright and crossing her arms.

"Huh?"

"Leave. Right now."

I see what she's doing. Roxy's giving me an example of my reluctance to do as she says.. I want to leave, like she wants me to, but my desire not to leave unfinished business outweighs my desire to do what she wants.

"..."

"Uh-huh. Why, Michael?"

"I.. Don't think our conversation should be over yet.."

"Fuck!"

Apparently this wasn't the greatest choice of words either. This time, she really does slam her hand on the desk next to her, creating a loud thud.

"We never should have talked in the first place, dumbass! You know how much I fucking despise you, right? How couldn't you? So why do you insist on trying to have this conversation with me!? And you convince yourself its for my benefit, too!"

Roxy's borderline yelling now. None of my responses appear to be the correct ones, and I'm not sure how to change that.

"Ugh-... I don't understand the obsession with you. You're fucking intolerable.." She continues after a moment of silence.

"..?"

"I can't even approach anyone on the day shift, because every time I do, they're talking about you, you know that?"

"Huh?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Michael! Ever since the day crew found out about you, they won't shut the fuck up! You're like an urban legend to them! Makes sense, since people tend to get interested when learning about a fucking monster..!" She points at me, presumably referring to my skin, which is still somewhat purple.

She's getting angrier with every word she speaks. It's like she can gets mad at me just by thinking about me.

"Trudge follows you everywhere, dumbass, you haven't noticed!?"

"Trudge follows Chica around more than me."

Roxanne drops her arms and rolls her eyes.

"Holy shit- I know, Michael. But he still fuckin' does!"

..I think she's making stuff up, if I'm being honest.. I can't remember the last time I even interacted with someone from the day crew, Trudge being the exception.

"Roxanne, I don't think anyone talks about me."

"What the fuck do you mean you don't think- I was there, Michael! You weren't!"

"I'm pretty sure I've never talked with a day crew other than Trudge before."

Roxy scoffs in disbelief and turns away from me.

"Uh-huh. Now I'm the fuckin' liar."

"I was never lying to you. I really just came in here to talk for a wh-"

"MICHAEL!"

-whap-

Ow..

When Roxy turned back around to face me, she extended her arm out to backhand the side of my face. It wasn't very hard, and didn't have a lot of momentum, but it left quite an impression on the nerves in my cheek.. I couldn't tell you why it hurt as much as it did, truth be told. She really didn't hit me very hard. She is, however, screaming at me pretty damn loud.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?! Is this how you intended to make me 'feel' better!? Come into my room and argue with me!? FUCK you, Michael! You really thought you could walk in my door and make me feel anything but worse?! Do I look like I feel any better?! What the fuck were you thinking?! Why couldn't you have just left me alone, like I always ask you to do!? Why won't you leave me-! Wh-Why won't y-you..!"

"..?"

"C-couldn't y-you just.. I-I'm... M-Michael..?"

..Oh.

Blood was running down my cheek, and dripping off my chin.

Claws.

Roxanne has claws, I'd completely forgotten about that. I was wondering why that slap hurt as bad as it did..

I rub my cheek, but it doesn't do much. Only ends up coating that part of my hand in a good amount of blood.

"M-Michael, you n-need.. Y-your face is-"

Roxanne is slowly pale-ing, torn between being furious with me and terrified of what she's looking at. I quickly cover the wound with my palm.

"I'm alright. You didn't mean to, don't worry about it."

She fidgets, I look around the room, only to decide that nothing in her room is worth dirtying with my blood.. Best course of action would be to jog to the nearest bathroom.

"I-I.. Y-you're so..!"

Roxanne's words are getting caught in her throat. The desire to keep screaming at me trying to surface, but failing every time.

"I'll be alright. I'm going to run to the bathroom to clean up."

I turn to walk away, but I don't get far before I can hear a jumbled mutter behind me, followed by Roxanne calling out to me again.

"W-Wait.. D-Don't.."

"I can't. Need to get this covered with real quick."

There's incredibly soft and ineffective stomp.

"N-No, fucking..! W-wait! I-I'm sorry, okay!?"

I continue to walk.

"I-I said I'm sorry! S-Stop ignoring me!"

"It's alright, It was an accident."

I make it to the door, not wasting any time setting my course to the bathroom. Dripping blood everywhere would really suck, for lots of reasons. I hear Roxanne call out from behind me one last time.

"Don-.. Don't come back here! I wanna be alone tonight!" She calls out after me, trying to sound authoritative, but her wavering voice betrays her.

"Sure."

After a peculiarly long hesitation, I hear the door slide to a close

...

Well.. Shit. That wasn't how that was supposed to go.

I thought I had a good idea there. Just let her scream at me for a while. Eventually she'd feel better, right? Hell, maybe she would've if it weren't for what just happened.

What.. What was she talking about back there? The day crew talk about me? I was sure none of them thought I even existed. I don't think I've ever the topic of a casual conversation my entire life; especially not after being turned into this repulsive abomination. Maybe she was just making up reasons to be mad at me, to give her an excuse to keep yelling, but I don't know. I don't think I've ever seen her lie about anything before.

Maybe they're just amused by the mere existence of a night-guard, especially with all the rumors surrounding the position in the past..

Not really sure what I think about that, to be honest.

I make it to the bathroom before a minute passes.. I think I did a pretty good job of preventing my blood from getting anywhere, but I know I let a couple drops drip. I've probably gotta clean that.

I take extra caution when it came to cleaning my wound, which isn't something I've had to do in a long time.. It wasn't as bad as it looked. Everything located on the head has a tendency to bleed way worse than it needs to.

I don't really know what I'm gonna wrap it with. Maybe I can jog to a first aid station somewhere, slap some bandages on this bad boy. If nothing else, I bet the scar might look cool.

Huh... Will this scar?

-ring-

Oh, right. Freddy.

*click*

"Michael! How's the gang?"

"They're all doing better than they were."

"Yes! I was hoping you would say that!"

I can see Freddy pump a fist. In fact, that's the first thing I saw before I realized that the watch provides video feed of the caller.

"Thank you Michael, truly. It means a lot to hear you say that."

"I enjoyed it too. Thank you for the suggestion."

"It was my pleasure. Now! I won't hold you any longer, I know you need to get-" There's a sudden rattling of Freddy's desk. "Michael!?"

Dammit, I really tried to hide it in time.

"It's alright-"

"It is not alright! What on earth happened to you?!"

I fail to think of an excuse before Freddy reaches his own conclusion.

...

"Roxanne.."

"It was just-"

"This is unacceptable. I will-"

"It was an accident, Freddy." I interrupt. Hate to insist like this, but letting him go on will cause more problems than resolutions.

"There is no excuse for what she did to you. You went there out of kindness to try and help her, and she responded by-"

"It's alright, Freddy."

"It is not alright! I understand that you and her do not get along, but I will not condone violence within our staff!" The bear insists with a raised tone.

"It was my fault."

...

"How?" He huffed impatiently. I could hear him stomping around his room, getting ready to confront Roxanne.. I can't let him do that, Roxanne asked to be left alone.

"I was too close to her when she turned around. She really didn't mean to hurt me. She even apologized."

That was mostly true. She did mean to hit me, though, but it was for effect rather than actually trying to injure me.

A few moments of silence pass, but eventually I hear Freddy sit back down with a heavy sigh.

...

"...Are you sure you're alright, Michael?"

"Yes."

"..Alright.. If you insist on defending her this fervently, then I'm trusting it must be for a reason."

"It is. Thank you."

...

It isn't until an unusually long silence between us do I look down and realize Freddy had ended the call.

...

The rest of the night doesn't hold any other new surprises. I get a patch on my face, just big enough to cover all of the scars. I'm sure people will ask, but I can just say I had an accident, and that'll be the end of it. I had to cover up the entire wound to the best of my ability, however. If anyone saw the shape of the scar, it would incriminate Roxanne pretty quickly. It's no secret that the two of us had never gotten along, but if they saw my scar they may think it's much more serious than it actually is.

I do my rounds, I see the other animatronics once or twice while I run amok, everything's in order like it always is, and everything is ready to go for tomorrow's performance.

I return to my security room, pull out the trusty laptop, and get to work.