Fazbear Frights: The Fan Files

by AmberTheCritic

With the opening of Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex, a whole new generation of children (and their parents' money) are welcomed into the world of Freddy and his friends! Come play, rock, eat pizza, and forget about those pesky rumors you may have heard; in time, rumors die! Of course, things that die have a way of coming back to haunt us, don't they? (T for spooks and blood).

10. 7: Dress Rehearsal Lock-in

Back. Forth. And back. And forth. And back…

Bayleigh alternated between the balls of her feet and her heels, putting her weight on one until the pain became too much, then shifting to the other.

There were no customers at her register, Grayson was unwilling to hold a conversation as usual, so there wasn't much to distract herself with.

Well. Think of the positives. Bayleigh rocked onto the balls of her feet, balancing against the countertop, You're not outside. You're freezing, sure, but that's better than melting into the parking lot.

She tilted her head to one side, making the muscles in her neck fire back with their complaints.

You're getting paid. In minimum wage and tortilla chips, but. Still.

Bayleigh rocked back onto her heels, withheld a groan.

And hey. At least here, the screaming kids aren't family, so you don't have to do anything about it.

Pain shot through her shoulders as she straightened up.

Really, you're one of the lucky ones.

Remarkably, the thought didn't do much to lift her mood, nor dull the various aches and pains throughout her body.

A few guests were headed in the direction of their food counter, so Bayleigh put on the bare minimum of a customer-service happy face, bracing herself for the interaction.

The man chose Grayson's counter, leaving Bayleigh open for a woman and her young daughter.

Bayleigh found it a little easier to be genuine now, and greeted them, "Hi. Welcome to El Chip's. What can I get for you?"

The woman's attention shifted to the girl, squeezing the hand that was clutching hers.

"Go ahead."

The little girl looked around five or six: straight brown hair, big brown eyes, and an adorable pair of daisy-decked overalls. She stared up at Bayleigh with clear trepidation, edging behind her mother's leg.

Bayleigh leaned over the counter to see her better, "Hi there! What's your name, sweetie?"

With a considerable pause, and a few more reassurances from her mother, the girl whispered her answer.

"Lila."

"Lila? Is that right?"

She nodded shyly.

"That's a pretty name," Bayleigh told her sincerely, "Hi Lila. My name's Bayleigh. Are you going to order all by yourself?"

Lila swayed a little on her feet, not quite able to meet Bayleigh's eyes.

"That's pretty impressive, for someone your age. Are you a little nervous about it?"

This time Lila nodded without hesitation.

Bayleigh smiled, "Yeah? That's okay. It can be scary to talk to people you don't know. A lot of grown-ups feel that way, too. But don't worry! Your mom's right there, in case you forget anything. I'm sure she'll help you if you ask her to."

"That's right," the woman added, "You can do it, Lila. You told me what you wanted; now just say the same thing again, to her."

Lila risked eye contact, so Bayleigh brightened her smile.

"… chipsandcheesepleasethankyou." She spoke hastily, hiding her face in her mom's skirt right after.

Bayleigh did her best not to laugh at the cuteness, "Chips and cheese? That's a good choice. Do you want something to drink, too?"

Lila unhid her face, peering up at her mother for approval.

The mom pulled a smile of her own, shrugging in an exaggerated manner, "I can't tell you what you want, sweetheart. You get to decide."

Lila glanced back at Bayleigh, "Yespleasethankyou."

Bayleigh moved to point at the soda fountain, "Here's the choices you have: lime, orange, grape, and pink lemonade. Which one sounds the best to you?"

Lila pondered her choices with the steely focus of a neurosurgeon, eyes drifting from option to option.

After a long period of silence, she spoke in something a bit louder than a whisper, "Grape."

"You got it." Bayleigh typed the order into her register, "And is that all?"

Lila's eyes returned to her mother and she announced clearly, "Mommy said wants a number two with no cheese because the cheese here is icky."

This time, Bayleigh couldn't hide the laugh.

"Is that right?"

The mother's smile was tinted with embarrassment, "Of course she's able to say all of that."

She finished up the two's order, waved bye to Lila (who returned it before hiding from view), and stretched her aching shoulders once more.

It took a second to feel Grayson's eyes on her, and Bayleigh turned, met by his skeptical expression.

"What?"

He rolled his eyes, "That took long enough."

"She's a little kid. Give her a break."

"We don't get paid extra to be friendly to little kids."

Bayleigh shrugged, having grown accustomed to his attitude by now, "Whatever, dude. It's hard to be friendly and it's hard to be a grump. You and I picked different "hards"."

Grayson looked taken-aback.

"I'm not a grump."

She assumed his previous skeptical expression.

"I'm not," he insisted, "I'm just tired."

"Uh-huh. Well so am I, so. That's no excuse."

The next time she rocked onto her heels, Bayleigh peered into the back, just able to make out the clock.

Twenty minutes to go. You're in the home stretch.

And then, the boldfaced challenge to her "grump" comment strolled towards the restaurant counter, and unfortunately, seemed to be headed in Bayleigh's direction.

Her dear, cherished, never once aggravating coworker, Chelsea.

"Hey Team Grae-Bae," she chirped, her voice oozing, "How's it going?"

Grayson took a tray of food from the kitchen window, "What do you think."

"Make sure you don't trip, carrying all that."

"I'll do it in your direction."

Once he was out of earshot, Chelsea pulled a face, sharing it with Bayleigh.

"What a jerk."

Her agreement would've meant siding with Chelsea, so Bayleigh dug deep and found tolerance for her grump of a food counter coworker.

"I didn't know the jurisdiction of Glamrock Salon branched all the way to the food court," Bayleigh commented, "Because otherwise, you wouldn't have a reason to be here."

Chelsea smirked, placing a hand on the countertop and leaning over it.

"Being a smart-mouth won't make people tolerate you more than they do now. You know that, right honey?"

"At least I've got the ability to sound smart." Bayleigh's eyes flicked to Chelsea's hand, "You just came by to dirty up my countertop, then?"

"I was talking to Dana."

"And?"

"She told me to tell you to go to the daycare. Like, as soon as you can."

Bayleigh's anger chilled instantly, "What? Why? Why as soon as I can?"

Chelsea shrugged, "That's just what she said, I dunno—"

"Did she say something happened to Sun— to the daycare attendant?"

"I told you, I don't know. She just said to go there." Chelsea beamed, "Aw, are you worried about your little boyfriend? Maybe Dana finally lost her cool and broke him."

Bayleigh was already escaping the counter, nearly colliding with Grayson on her way.

"Hey! Where are you—"

She abandoned him and the food court restaurant without guilt or even a passing thought. Bayleigh took the smaller daycare entrance through the atrium, saving her a trip down the stairs; immediately she was let out onto the floor of the daycare, on the same level as the playplace.

Dana was releasing the last kid to his parents, doing nothing to hide her exhaustion as she leaned against the heavy red doors. Her eyes shifted lazily to Bayleigh as she jogged over.

"Hey Bay, h—"

"What happened?!"

Dana blinked, "Huh?"

"Chelsea said th—" She didn't realize until now that she was out of breath, but fought through it, "That— you said to come here— as soon as possible."

It took a while for Dana's mind to catch up with her, but as soon as it did, she laughed.

"Oh. Nah, nothing happened. Sorry to freak you out. No emergency or anything." She propped the door open for Bayleigh to enter, "I just figured you'd enjoy the job more than me. I didn't get enough sleep to handle him, right now."

Bayleigh was still jittering with adrenaline, and the jackhammer that had taken the place of her heart didn't show any sign of slowing down.

"Wh… what job?"

"Don't worry, it all washes off eventually." She let Bayleigh catch the door on her own, then waved haphazardly over her shoulder as she left, "Thanks friend, you're the best."

With nothing else to do, Bayleigh entered the empty playplace, searching the tumble toys and plastic playground for any sign of the animatronic.

"Sunny?" She called out, "You okay?"

The bells gave away his location immediately; Sunnydrop sprang from the ball pit, vaulting over the foam wall surrounding it, and leapt atop the daycare's front desk.

"BAYLEIGH!"

The animatronic was covered head to toe in bright, glittery, multicolored paint.

Bayleigh's exasperation only lasted a moment, overcome by incredible relief at seeing him in working order. In the short trip between El Chip's and here, she'd had plenty of time to come up with a dozen awful scenarios, picturing the little guy in various states of disrepair and…

… well. At least she could ditch those, now. And… focus on her newly appointed cleaning job.

"Buddy," Bayleigh breathed a laugh, "What happened to you?"

Sunnydrop stood proudly, "We finger-painted today!"

"Yeah, I can see that. Were you the canvas?"

He unleashed a loud, tinny laugh, "Oh, very funny, Bayleigh! Finger-painting doesn't have to be done with just your fingers! You can use your whole hand! Your elbow! Your—"

She took one of his hands as he spoke, surveying the extent of the paint. Most of it was dried and had already begun to flake… but at least the fabric of his pants was spared. That would make things easier.

"It's a mess," she told him simply, "You can't work with kids if you're a mess. Let's get you cleaned up. Sound good?"

"Okie-dokie!" He hopped off the desk, latching onto her hand with both of his, "I'm so glad to see you again! I missed you!"

Bayleigh grinned, lifting and swinging him forward a few feet— like parents did with their small children.

"I missed you too, Sunny."

---

"—and then after that, Aaron wanted to play hide and seek, which I said was a fan-ta-bu- lastical idea!" Even sitting, Sunnydrop continued to bounce, "Since he came up with the idea, he got to be the seeker first! Almost everybody ran to the playground to hide, which meant things were going to be very easy for the seeker the first round, but that's okay! That doesn't mean it won't still be fun!"

"Yeah?" Bayleigh continued to work at the glob of blue paint on his right arm, scrubbing furiously with a wet paper towel. Thankfully, someone had the sense to supply the kids with tempera paint, but the sheer volume of stains made up for it, "They still had fun, then?"

"Absolutely! Aaron found everyone super-duper quick! After that it was Kevin's turn, and a few kids hid in the ball pit that time!"

"That's a smart place to do it." Bayleigh tossed the now useless paper towel into the trash can with others like it. She pulled another from the dispenser, wet it at the sink, and returned to Sunnydrop.

"It was! Very, very clever! Ooh!" He leaned closer to Bayleigh, "But the last round was the best!"

"Why's that?" Bayleigh caught his arm again, "I'm almost done with this arm. Keep it still a little bit longer."

"During the last round, it was Jonathan's turn to seek— he was one of the kids who hid in the ball pit, and Kevin found him last. Everyone came up with such clever hiding spots, that time! In the foam playhouse, behind the giant blocks, just inside the bottom of the slide… but we were missing one person!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Cade! No one could find Cade at all! We all helped Jonathan look for him, too!"

"Wait," Bayleigh interrupted, "You didn't already know where he was?"

Sunnydrop tilted his head to one side and crossed his arms, "You can't seek when people are hiding and it's not your turn, Bayleigh! That would be cheating! Everybody knows that!"

"You're right. I forgot all about that." She knew he usually missed her sarcasm, so didn't bother hiding it, "I need your arm back."

"But then! After we'd been looking for him forever, Jared found him!" Sunnydrop barely withheld a giggle, "Do you wanna know where he was?"

"Of course I do. You've been building it up this whole time."

"Under the check-out desk!" Sunnydrop blurted, throwing his hands up for emphasis, "Staff Member Dana was helping him hide and keeping it a secret the whole time!"

"Ah. That doesn't sound totally fair to me," she joked.

Sunnydrop considered it, "Hmmm… maybe not. But it was really funny once we found him! No one was upset, even if it wasn't 100% fair!"

"Gotcha." Bayleigh went for his arm again, "I know you don't want to hold still, but we're going to be here forever if you don't at least give me one limb to work on at a time."

"Oh-ho-ho! Stay here forever?! That sounds like a wonderful idea!"

"Ha." Bayleigh finally banished the stubborn blue stain, "I don't think so."

"I wish you'd come to play more!" Sunnydrop pleaded, almost pouting.

"I come by sometimes," she argued, "Like…"

"Six times!"

She stopped, in the middle of pulling another paper towel.

"Really?"

"Yep!"

"You kept count?"

He nodded proudly, "Of course! I happen to be great at keeping count of things and not forgetting!"

"… huh." She soaked the paper towel in the sink, "Well. Sorry about that. I'll try to come by more often… it's easy to forget things when you're tired."

Sunnydrop stopped dangling his feet off the sink countertop, crossing them beneath himself.

"Why are you tired, Bayleigh? Maybe you need to take a nap, and that will help!"

"No I definitely do, but it won't help that much." She used a hand to keep his head still, searching for a place to begin cleaning, "It's probably because I work here, then go home and work some more."

"Oh? What do you work on at home?"

Bayleigh was hesitant to clean the eye, not sure how waterproof the metal seams were.

"Cleaning. Driving my brothers around. Babysitting."

"You have brothers?!" Sunnydrop latched onto her wrists, "I didn't know that! What are their names?! How many? How old are they? Is one of them your favorite?"

She let him keep hold of one wrist, freeing the other, "I've got four: Blaine's seventeen, Braxton and Bolton are twins— they're both 7, and Breck is 2. And no, I don't have a favorite. They're all trouble in their own ways."

"And!" Sunnydrop added eagerly, "Your staff member profile says you're twenty! So you're the oldest one!"

"I am."

"What do all your brothers like to do for fun?"

"Uh." Bayleigh wasn't sure she wanted to be the one leading this conversation, but she also didn't want to shut him down for no reason, "Blaine likes music. Braxton and Bolton do soccer and baseball during the summer. Breck's too young for any hobbies… he likes fish, though. Like, fish tanks and aquariums and TV shows about the ocean. Oh, Blaine does some kind of… I think it's like, a video game club at school. Either playing them or making them. I have no clue."

"Wow! That's a lot! What do you like doing at school?"

Bayleigh focused on the blotch of green on his cheek.

"I'm too old for school, Sunny."

"Oh! You're right!" The animatronic laughed, "Whoopsie-daisy! I have another question, then!"

She withheld a sigh, "Yeah?"

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"Is twenty not grown-up?"

Sunnydrop tapped his chin, "Is it?"

"I'm not the expert or anything, but… I'd say it is?"

"Okay! Did you become what you wanted to be when you weren't grown up yet?"

Bayleigh said nothing. After finishing off the paint on his face, she gave him a once-over, making a sound of satisfaction.

"I think that's all of it." She crossed her arms, "How did you get paint on your face, anyway?"

"Cade wanted to face paint! I told him that it was a fun idea, but this kind of paint wasn't meant for faces and might make him sick! But it won't make me sick!"

"Makes perfect sense."

"Do you like having lots of brothers?"

Bayleigh exhaled, glad they'd returned to the corner of the conversation she didn't mind having, "They're alright. The twins can be a handful, Breck usually behaves himself, and Blaine just stays in his room and avoids everyone."

Sunnydrop thought in silence for a moment.

"Am I a handful?"

She answered immediately, "No, you're not a handful, Sunnydrop. I like spending time with you."

Sunnydrop sprang to his feet on the sink countertop, "Then why can't you stay here forever?"

Bayleigh smirked, "Ah, you tricked me into that." She gestured for him to hop off the counter, "If I was around all the time, you'd get tired of me."

"No I wouldn't!" He insisted, "Absolutely not! Never!"

"Yeah, you would. Go ahead and get down from there, I don't want you to fall—"

Sunnydrop obeyed, only to leap up and wrap his arms around her shoulders. Bayleigh quickly shifted to catch him, still not quite used to his constant physical contact.

"But since you're here now—" Sunnydrop leaned over one of her shoulders, invading her line of sight, "—can you stay and play? Pretty please?"

Bayleigh's aching body made its protest. Everything else told it to keep its complaints to itself.

"Sure, why not. Not for very long, though; it's getting late. What do you want to do?"

---

The cubbyhole hadn't changed much since the last time Bayleigh visited it. Still just as dirty, trash-strewn, and depressing. At least the place never seemed to rub off on Sunnydrop, so Bayleigh didn't mention it.

After some searching, she managed to find a dusty deck of cards lodged behind an equally dusty table, and decided she'd try to teach Sunnydrop how to play go-fish. Easy game— how hard could it be?

"Do you have…" Bayleigh mused over her cards, "… any… sevens?"

Sunnydrop shook his head, "Nope!"

She drew a card.

"Do you have… anyyyyy… threes?"

Bayleigh handed the card over. And waited.

"… Uh." She nodded to his hand, "Do you have any threes?"

"Nope!"

"Well the—" She cut herself off with a laugh, "Sunny, the goal is to ask for cards you already have. So you can get all four in a suit and…" She pointed to her own set of eights, "See? Like this."

"Oh… but I want to get them all!"

Bayleigh sighed, "Okay, but that's not the point of the game—"

"I think I'm playing a very different kind of game!"

"Yeah, I think so too."

The door to the cubbyhole opened unexpectedly, leading both Bayleigh and Sunnydrop to stare at the guy who entered.

He, in turn, blinked dumbly back at them.

"Uh. Did I interrupt something?"

Sunnydrop recognized him first, waving energetically, "Hi, Staff Member Harvey!"

It took Bayleigh a bit longer to remember where she'd seen him last: Parts and Services. The whole "blueprints" thing. Right.

"No," she answered him, "You're not, I was— just, visiting." Bayleigh put down her cards, "I mean, I was working initially, I'm not just messing around and loitering, but—"

Harv shook his head, "You're fine, Bayleigh. Just didn't expect to see ya— came by to check 'n see if the daycare attendant needed maintenance."

Bayleigh's self-consciousness spiked, How does he already know my name? Do I have that much of a bad reputation?

But Sunnydrop was oblivious to her predicament, having discarded his cards and hopping to his feet.

"Nope! I'm perfectly fine!" He assured Harv, "Nothing's broken! And— and! No alerts, see?" Sunnydrop skipped over to the emergency relay station, hit a button to turn on the screen, then gestured eagerly to it, "See? Not a single one! Bayleigh showed Staff Member Dana how to clear them!"

Harv crouched down beside the device, looking confused.

"Huh." He scrolled through a few of the machine's options, familiarizing himself with them, "This is new."

"It's really not," Bayleigh commented, standing as well, "It was old and broken when I found it." She fixed her gaze on the back of his head, "Still looking for whoever thought that was a good idea."

Harv peered back at her, "Hey, don't look at me. This is the first time I'm hearin' anything about it."

"Don't you do repairs?"

"Well yeah but—" Harv rubbed the back of his neck, "—on some of 'em, yeah. Mostly just Monty and Roxy, 'n general maintenance and stuff… not really…" He gestured to the relay station again, as if to emphasize his point, "Ms. Sullivan's never brought it up or nothin'. It's never been a problem."

Bayleigh's tone flattened, "No, it has been. But I guess it wasn't at the top of anyone's priority list."

The mounting tension was broken by the animatronic latching onto Bayleigh's arm, shaking it.

"But it's all fixed now, so it's alright!" He insisted, sounding the slightest bit frantic, "So there's really no reason to fight about it, right Bayleigh? Ha… don't you think so?"

Harv chuckled, "Well, uh… obviously you're prob'ly working fine. I do gotta check your friend, though. He's usually the one that has issues."

Sunnydrop's grip tightened on Bayleigh's arm.

"Sunny."

"I don't want to."

Bayleigh crouched down, "Hey."

He turned his back on her, arms crossed and head held haughtily high.

"I don't want to!"

"Hey. Look at me— what did we talk about?"

Sunnydrop drooped slightly, "… taking turns."

"That's right."

He spun around to face her, "But it's not fair! I want to stay longer!"

Bayleigh crossed her arms to match him, "Moondrop needs time to be out, too. Besides, if there's something on him that's broken, we need to find it so that we can fix him. If you were broken, you'd want us to fix you, right?"

Sunnydrop's head fell, "Yes."

She gave into his theatrics just a bit, reaching out to bop his nose.

"I'll see you again, Sunny." Bayleigh smiled, "I work on Monday morning, so I'll come visit after my shift. Does that work?"

Life returned to the animatronic and he straightened up, "Yes yes YES! Absolutely! You promise?!"

Bayleigh wordlessly held out her pinkie, and Sunnydrop did the same, linking it with hers.

"Thanks, bud."

"Can I be the one to hit the light button?"

"Go ahead."

Sunnydrop galloped over to the wall of receivers and blinking devices, "Don't peek!"

"I know." Bayleigh stood, keeping the groan of pain to herself, and turned to face the door. For good measure, she reached over to grab Harv by the arm and turn him around, too.

"Why—"

"Don't ask."

Bayleigh heard the idle jingle of bells, but still, the lights remained on.

"Five," she began, "Four, three—"

The lights clicked off abruptly, leaving just the fading neon that encircled the ceiling. The sound was followed by the click and clatter of metal parts, a low whir… when silence returned, Bayleigh turned around.

"Hi Moony."

Moondrop was calmly perched on a foam tumble toy, already staring.

"Bayleigh." His gaze shifted over an inch, "Staff Member Harvey."

Harv laughed nervously, "Yeah." He peered over at Bayleigh, "Did you tell 'em to call you that?"

She shrugged, "It saves time. The other way feels too… like, stiff and formal, I guess?"

"Eh." Harv hazarded a step in Moondrop's direction, "So Moondrop, I gotta check you real quick for damage, okay? I wanna take a look at your neck, to make sure it's all good—"

When he was within arm's reach, Moondrop scurried off the tumble toy, regaining distance. His gaze never left Harv.

"Don't worry, it'll only take a sec—"

Again Harv was evaded, and the animatronic retreated beneath a table. Only his eyes were visible in the darkness, glowing red and unblinking.

Bayleigh had already moved to join them, sitting rather than crouching this time.

"Harvey's not going to hurt you," she assured, "It's his job to make sure you're working right."

"Ms. Sullivan's job," Moondrop mumbled stubbornly.

"She can't be everywhere at once," Harv told him, "Y'know? I gotta help out once in a while. Really, I know what I'm doin'."

Moondrop retreated further beneath the table, pressing himself into the wall. In response, Bayleigh lay on her stomach to see him better.

"How about this: Harvey can tell me what needs to be checked, and I'll do it. Would that make you feel better?"

The animatronic mulled it over for a while in silence. Eventually, he nodded, making the bell at the end of his cap jingle.

Bayleigh extended a hand to him, "Okay. That's what we'll do, then. It'll be easier if you're out from under the table, don't you think?"

Following another long, scrutinizing silence, her hand was accepted.

"Yes."

Harv kept the check-up short, focusing mainly on the neck joint.

"Shouldn't catch anywhere, or squeak too much at'cha."

Bayleigh manipulated Moondrop's head every which way, "I don't… feel anything."

"Works fine," Moondrop quipped, edging away as much as she'd allow, "Off."

She complied, releasing him, "Show me your hands?"

He displayed them briefly, the repaired hand noticeably shinier than the other.

"He looks fine to me."

"Yeah, I'm thinkin' so, too." Harv typed something into his phone, "I'll go ahead and call it good. If somethin' happens again, just lemme know and I'll get it fixed." He peered up, offering Moondrop a smirk, "Or maybe Ms. Sullivan will, yeah?"

Moondrop didn't acknowledge him, slinking to the opposite side of the room and disappearing inside the blue plastic tunnel in the wall.

Harv snickered, "Nice seein' you too, pal."

"He's been a lot less social," Bayleigh explained, "Since…"

"Since that kid kicked 'em."

She frowned, "Yeah. That."

"Oh, he'll come around after a while." Harv pocketed his phone, "Go back to his ol' life-of-the-party self."

"Right."

"Alright, I'll letcha go back to your cards." Harv offered a wave, "G'night."

"Goodnight."

As soon as the door had shut, Bayleigh followed the animatronic to his hiding place, stopping outside the tunnel.

"He left, Moony."

She heard the clicks of metal on plastic, slow but growing louder as they went.

… until they stopped.

"You okay?"

There was no answer.

Worried, Bayleigh stooped down to peer into the tunnel, "Hey, are y—"

Moondrop feigned a lunge, waiting just inside the opening of the tunnel.

Bayleigh yelped in fear, "MOONDROP!"

He rolled backwards, hissing laughter as he disappeared into the darkness once more.

"You—" She couldn't banish a laugh of her own, "That! Was not funny!"

"You laughed. Was funny."

"Come out here, please?"

Moondrop obeyed her this time, crouching on the ledge of the tunnel and watching silently.

Still just as creepy as the first time she met him. And still just as endearing.

"When's the last time you were out?" Bayleigh asked him curiously.

Moondrop's head tilted, "Tuesday."

"Last Tuesday?"

"Yes."

"How was that? What did you do?"

Moondrop thought in silence.

"… monitored."

"Oh?"

He didn't expand on his answer.

"Did you do anything fun with any of the kids?"

Moondrop shook his head.

"Hm." Bayleigh did some thinking of her own, "… do you want to do something together, before I leave for the night?"

"Clean."

Bayleigh gave him a skeptical look, "You sure?"

He nodded.

"We could neaten up the space up here. It'd probably be more comfortable for you and Sunnydrop, that way."

Moondrop tilted his head in the other direction, seeming to grumble.

"Just gets dirty again."

"So does the daycare."

His huff was unmistakable, "Children need daycare clean. For health and safety." He became very matter-of-fact, "I cannot be unsafe. Or sick. Less priority."

"Well, you're a priority to me." When he didn't reply, Bayleigh continued, "Is cleaning the daycare something that will make you happy?"

The bell jingled as he nodded.

"Would it be okay if I helped?"

"… yes."

"Then let's do that."

---

Friday evening, and Bayleigh was living it up the best she could: trying to see the TV screen past the twins, who were currently doing laps around the kitchen's bar and the living room coffee table.

Their father weaved his way through the sprinting twins, balancing duffel bags and a mesh sack of baseball gear, making it to the door unscathed. Mr. Reed was a big man but otherwise unassuming, seeming withdrawn into his bushy blonde beard and boxy glasses. She vaguely remembered her grandmother mentioning that he was the spitting image of "a late uncle," but the subject was never brought up again. Either way, nothing of him— looks or personality— seemed to rub off on Bayleigh, in the end.

Which, much to her displeasure, meant that most of the comparisons were drawn between she and—

Mrs. Reed planted herself squarely in front of the TV screen, car keys in hand, purse slung in the crook of her arm.

"We're leaving now. We'll be back Monday morning."

Bayleigh looked at her mother's nails. They were green and yellow, the colors of the boys' baseball team. It didn't suit her red hair, but no one could say she wasn't supportive (of the boys at least).

"You know when to feed Breck. Blaine is staying here, too. Make sure he doesn't have anyone over, and comes home before ten each night."

As if on cue, Bayleigh heard the music from her brother's room— thankfully not blasting from a stereo this time, but rather an acoustic guitar.

One that was not his.

"Keep an eye on Breck," Mrs. Reed continued, "Don't just leave him in his playpen and stay in your room all day."

Who do you think I am, you?

Mrs. Reed turned her attention to the twins, "Boys! Time to go!"

"Can we watch Spongebob in the car?" Braxton pleaded, "Pleeeeeease?!"

"No, Teen Titans!" Bolton grabbed his mother's wrist, "I wanna watch Teen Titans—"

"Spongebob, Spongebob, Spongebob—"

Bayleigh could've resolved the conflict, but chose not to. She occupied her mind by trying to decipher the edge of the TV's subtitles, seeing if she could still follow the story.

Mr. Reed stepped through the front door, identified the situation, and moved to return to the car, hoping he'd gone unnoticed.

"Thomas," Mrs. Reed snapped.

She didn't need to elaborate; Mr. Reed slunk back into the house, took the arm of the nearest twin, and began leading him outside.

"Good luck at your game," Bayleigh told Bolton as he was summarily dragged out the front door.

He flashed her a grin, momentarily distracted from the feud, "We're gonna win!"

"You'd better."

The door was just short of slammed, muffling the squabbling that continued all the way to the car. They disappeared under the grumble of an engine, which eventually faded into nothing.

The house was now filled with the low sound of the TV, occasional strumming of an acoustic guitar, and Breck's sporadic babbling.

At last. Relative silence.

Bayleigh took a few minutes to enjoy it, laying back on the couch and letting out a long breath. She'd spent as much of the morning as she could in bed, her aches and pains only doubling from the day before. This weekend wouldn't do much to help it, but seeing as she only had to babysit two brothers instead of the usual four… it was as much of a break as she could expect.

She eventually stood, turning off the TV and making her way to Blaine's room, right across from her own. Bayleigh knocked, then opened the door a few inches.

"They're gone. You can leave the door open, now."

Blaine ignored her, focusing on the guitar chords he had opened on his phone. Of all the Reed children, he was the only one who looked anything like their dad: blonde and brown-eyed, with wisps of fuzz already appearing on his chin. Mrs. Reed's genes, much like her personality, were overbearing, subjecting the rest of the family to red hair, blue eyes, and the tendency to burn by just thinking about the sunshine.

Bayleigh drummed a finger against the door, "And tune my guitar before you put it back."

"Mm-hm."

"I prefer to be asked before you take it."

"Mm-hm." Blaine adjusted one of the tuning pegs, plucked the string, "You gonna order food tonight?"

"No. I'll make something."

"Ugh."

"If you've got a problem with it, you can cook."

"Just order something."

"It costs money."

"You've got a job."

"So that I can save that money," Bayleigh told him flatly, "And get out of here."

Blaine scoffed.

"Never gonna happen."

"You can cook or do the dishes. Pick one."

"I don't cook."

Bayleigh shrugged, "Looks like you're doing the dishes this week, then."

He went back to the guitar, ignoring her again. Bayleigh cut her losses, deciding to check on her other brother instead.

Breck was considerably happier to see her, peering up from his toys when she appeared in the doorway.

"Hey there," Bayleigh greeted, "You want to watch your ocean shows?"

The toddler's face split into a grin.

"Sharks! See the sharks!"

"Alright, show me where."

Breck pushed himself awkwardly onto his feet, proceeding to dash past Bayleigh and into the living room. By the time she joined him, he was waiting expectantly at the arm of the couch.

"Up!"

"I know, I know." Bayleigh lifted him onto the couch, taking the remote and navigating her way to the appropriate streaming app, "I'm going to be in the kitchen, so come and get me if you need something, okay?"

Breck was bouncing where he sat, kicking his feet into the couch cushion.

Bayleigh picked the most child-friendly shark documentary she found— which looked like it had been played before— and started it over.

"Remember to stay in your spot," she mentioned, "The couch is for sitting, not standing."

"I know, I know," he replied, doing a remarkable imitation of her. Bayleigh laughed, set the remote out of his reach, and left to get to work in the kitchen.

She didn't have the energy to make two different meals— tonight, everyone was going vegetarian. Bayleigh scoured the fridge and settled very quickly on spaghetti: it satisfied the two picky eaters, and she'd be able to sneak plenty of vegetables into the sauce without their knowledge.

As Bayleigh got to work, she took out her phone to get a playlist going… but changed her mind, setting it down on the kitchen table. Blaine's playing was a decent enough accompaniment, though she had no plans to tell him that.

A few minutes in, Breck started to babble loudly, so Bayleigh peered out over the kitchen's bar to check on him. He was exactly where she left him, kicking his feet against the couch again, transfixed by the TV.

The guitar playing stopped briefly and Blaine called out, "I don't need a backup singer."

Bayleigh smirked at the comment and replied, "He's telling you your B's are off."

There was a pause. Blaine strummed the guitar pointedly.

"Still a little flat."

He repeated the note.

"Better."

"It doesn't even sound that much different."

"Says you and what music experience?"

She was answered by the— in tune— B chord and nothing else.

Bayleigh was in the middle of chopping zucchini when her phone buzzed against the table. The screen told her it was an unknown caller, so Bayleigh silenced it and returned to the vegetables.

And then it rang again.

The phone number was the same, so Bayleigh answered out of curiosity.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Bayleigh?"

She knew the voice, somewhat. Her silence prompted the caller to speak again.

"It's Harv."

"Oh— oh, hey," she greeted, "Hey Harv. What's going on?"

"So I was— uh, I got your number from Dana," he explained, "Hope that's fine."

"Yeah, it's fine. What's up?"

"So," Harv began again, "Uh, first off I'm real sorry I gotta ask at all, but… would'ja be able to take my late shift on Sunday?"

Bayleigh had planned to resume vegetable chopping while they talked, but now she halted.

"What?"

"I know it's super late notice and it's the late shift on a Sunday, but— see, they're not supposed to schedule me on weekends, but ever since they fired Rob, Terrance and David keep doing it anyway, and—"

"I have an early shift Monday," Bayleigh interrupted, "And I don't do maintenance. Why did you call me?"

"Well cause… I mean, cause I saw how good you were with the daycare attendant and— it's really not a lotta maintenance stuff. Not really. More like— they already know what they're supposed to be doing, and you just gotta fiddle with knobs and babysit. I'll leave you a checklist and everything."

The pot on the stove was beginning to boil. Now behind on vegetable chopping, Bayleigh turned down the heat.

"I…" Bayleigh sighed, "No one else can do it?"

"Vanessa's the only one who'll be there that late, so you're not stuck there alone."

"I mean…"

"I swear I'll find a way to make it up to you," Harv insisted, "And I wouldn't be askin' if I didn't already have a strike against me. I can't lose this job, or—" He stopped himself, but continued, "Please, if there's any way you could cover me, it'd help me out a whole lot. I swear I'll make it up to you somehow."

Breck continued to babble in the living room.

… Blaine will be here, if something happens. It's not like Breck will be all alone.

Bayleigh groaned.

I can come home in the morning, take care of Breck, and go back for my shift. Which… is going to SUCK. But. It won't exactly be busy on a Monday morning. I could probably handle it… more or less.

And if Blaine doesn't feel like helping, I'll just tell mom about what happened at his friend's sweet sixteen party, last year. That should convince him.

"What time do I need to be there, Sunday?"

Harv answered immediately, "Doors lock at midnight, so just before that. I'll tell Vanessa to be lookin' for ya— thank you so much Bayleigh, you don't even know—"

"It's no problem," she lied, "Don't worry about it. What… exactly am I going to be doing?"

"Well…" He laughed awkwardly, "Ya ever been to a dress rehearsal before?"

Immediately, her regret increased.

"Yes."

"Basically that. With robots."

"Great."

"It ain't that bad. They listen to ya good enough… just keep 'em from arguing with one another and it'll be over before you know it."

Bayleigh was not reassured, "Alright, then."

"Thank you again, Bayleigh. Make sure they pay you the overtime wage— 's mandatory for work after midnight."

"Mm-hm." The water was threatening to boil again, "I'll be there."

"Thanks Bayleigh—"

"See you."

"See ya."

She hung up, set down her phone… and rubbed her eyes, hit by redoubled exhaustion.

You just can't learn when to say NO, can you?

Apparently, no.

---

Her light blue beetle coasted to a stop in the Pizzaplex parking lot, dark and devoid of cars. Occasional light poles fought off the night in patches, glowing bright and stark white, but they were no more welcoming than the shadows at the edge of their reach.

Bayleigh breathed deeply, stretching over her steering wheel. She'd been lucky enough to catch a few hours of sleep before then, staving off exhaustion for a little while longer. And, to push her head start, she finished off the last of an energy drink, cringing at the awful taste.

She exhaled again, drumming her hands on the wheel, trying to hype herself up.

Okay. Robot dress rehearsal. Glorified babysitting. It's not going to last forever.

The only other car in the parking lot was a boring tan sedan, dirty and undecorated. She assumed it was Vanessa's, and was a little disappointed that there was nothing to tip her off to the security guard's personality or interests. Not a sticker, not a mirror hanger— only an empty bag of peppermint candies in the passenger's seat.

Vanessa herself wasn't any more revealing. She was waiting at the door before Bayleigh came into sight, already looking annoyed with her.

She swiftly shut the door behind Bayleigh, swiping a keycard that activated the heavy metal security doors. They lowered, clanking and clattering until they fully blocked out the glass entrance doors, sealing Bayleigh's fate.

"No one else is working tonight," Vanessa told her flatly, "And I'm not opening them again until morning. If there's an issue, deal with it yourself."

"Mm-hm." Same old helpful Vanessa.

She withdrew a different keycard from her shirt pocket, extending it to Bayleigh, "This gives you maintenance access. Should let you into the places you're allowed to be. If a door won't open, you shouldn't be there. If you're doing your job, you won't have time for snooping anyway. Got it?"

Bayleigh took the card, biting back commentary, "Yes ma'am."

Vanessa gestured to the Rockstar Row entrance, "Rehearsal room is in there. On the right. It's on the door." She muffled a groan, rubbed her eyes, "You can find it just fine, yourself."

"You okay?"

Vanessa ignored the question, talking past the hand that was now pinching the bridge of her nose, "I'm going to be working, so don't bother me unless it's an actual emergency."

Once the apparent headache passed, she gave Bayleigh a disapproving look, "It's anyone's guess why Harvey got a food counter worker to cover his maintenance shift…" She huffed, "But I guess that's not my business."

"You're right. I guess it's not."

It earned her a glare, but Vanessa didn't reply. After a few seconds spent melting under the heated expression, she was spared, and Vanessa stalked off towards the escalators. Bayleigh likewise made her way towards Rockstar Row.

To Vanessa's credit, it was fairly easy to locate the rehearsal room— the glittery, golden, star-shaped sign and neon blue lettering wasn't exactly subtle. A keycard swipe let her in with a cheery beep, and Bayleigh stepped into the room, lights clicking on as she entered.

For one, it was much bigger than she'd expected. The ceiling was just as tall as the one in Rockstar Row, and the walls stretched a good hundred feet in every direction. There was no "radical" Pizzaplex theming: just off-white walls, square-paneled ceilings, eye-numbing fluorescent lights, and stacked plastic chairs. There were a few interesting features of the room, however. In the center was a small raised stage, adorned with instrument stands and boxy black speakers. And in front, a desk overflowing with sound equipment— panels, dials, switches, cords and cables.

Bayleigh took a seat in the squeaky rolling chair that stood before the desk, glancing over the soundboard and its many sliders. Some were labeled, but most were not. She flipped the power switch, watching the many lights and dials flicker to life. The speakers made themselves known, fizzing with a soft white noise that added to the room's tired ambiance.

In the corner of the soundboard, Bayleigh spotted a yellow notepad and picked it up— and to her relief, found the notes left for her by Harv.

The first page gave a rundown of the soundboard itself, which sliders she'd need and which to absolutely never touch unless she wanted to reboot the whole system. She skimmed past the operation instructions themselves, already familiar with the basics.

Second page was her checklist for the night: sound check for animatronics and instruments (she didn't need to make fixes, just take note of them), and a run-through of the four newly programmed songs.

And the third page was a few scrawled lines thanking her, once again, for covering the shift in the first place.

Bayleigh couldn't help but smile, "Alright Harv, I get it."

Well, she had her marching orders, and a little under six hours to get them done. She stretched, trying to loosen the muscles in her back that she had a feeling would be griping at her before long.

First, she had to corral the four animatronics in for dress rehearsal. But, after a bit of consideration, Bayleigh came up with a new "first" for her to-do list.

Something to make the night more enjoyable.

---

Bayleigh made sure to shut and lock the doors behind her, refusing to give Vanessa something so easy to pin on her. She missed the red bricked room and its minimal lighting already.

"Good to go?"

Moondrop nodded, already on his way to the stairs.

"Here, do you want—" Bayleigh jogged to catch up with him, and offered her hand, "Are you alright on your own?"

Moondrop glanced at her outstretched hand, then up at her.

"I mean— usually when we're out, Sunny wants to hold my hand. So we don't get separated."

He tilted his head with a sharp click.

"Been out before," Moondrop replied indignantly, "Won't get lost."

"I know, just if—"

He hopped onto the stair's handrail, sliding down to the ground level and proceeding without her.

"… love you too, buddy."

At least the other animatronics seemed happier to see her. Chica trapped her in a hug and chattered for a few minutes about how excited she was, then how excited she was for Bayleigh to see one of their music rehearsals. Roxy was… considerably less enthusiastic, but didn't argue when she was told to grab her instrument and head to the rehearsal room.

"Miss Bayleigh!" Freddy greeted her as friendly as he always did, "You are here very late tonight!"

"I am," she confirmed, leaning on the doorway of his room, "I'm taking over Harv's shift tonight, to get you all through your music stuff. Does that sound okay?"

"It does! I am sure you will do an excellent job!"

"Yeah, well… we'll see." She started to leave, but returned a second later, "…'Miss' Bayleigh?"

The animatronic's ears pulled back, making his expression appear timid.

"It seemed a bit strange to call you just Bayleigh. Is that alright?"

"Uh." She tested it in her mind a few times, and hid the expression that wanted to surface.

In reality it made her feel like an adult, and she was not a fan of that feeling. But she was much less comfortable with upsetting the nothing-but-nice animatronic bear. So, she settled for the lesser discomfort.

"… yeah, that's fine, I guess." Bayleigh feigned a smile, "Only if I get to call you 'Mr. Fazbear' every once in a while."

Freddy laughed, "A few of the younger guests do, from time to time. I think it makes them seem very polite!"

The last band member to gather was Monty who, admittedly, she hadn't interacted with much. There was that time about a year ago that he'd been around for her brothers' birthday party, but she remembered being upset about something then. Most of the day was a blur, anyway. Minus the sprinklers going off.

Bayleigh didn't barge in his room like she'd done the others, deciding to knock this time.

"Hey, Monty? I'm running the music rehearsal tonight. Are you ready to go?"

The door opened quickly, and Bayleigh side-stepped to avoid the animatronic gator.

"Oh! Hey!" He lifted his glasses to see her better, "Staff Member Bayleigh!" Monty already had his bass in hand, "Ready to rock?"

She grinned, "Sure am."

Once everyone had been herded into the rehearsal room, Bayleigh got to work on the soundboard, experimenting with the unlabeled sliders. Moondrop stood by curiously, scanning the sea of lights and dials.

"Here—" Bayleigh moved the rolling chair over to him, "You can see better if you sit here. But don't touch anything, okay? Eyes only."

Moondrop climbed into the squeaky chair, perching on one of the arms and continuing his survey of the device.

"Cool, right?"

She thought she heard him mumble a reply.

"And let me know if your power starts to get low tonight, okay? I don't know how long this is going to take, so I don't want you dying on me."

He was fixated on a cluster of lights— clearly, they were of more interest to him than anything she was saying.

At least someone's having fun.

"Okay guys," Bayleigh addressed the other animatronics, "So plug in anything that needs to be plugged in on your end. I'm going to…" She searched through the desk's drawer for a sharpie, "… figure… this out."

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Bayleigh kept her tone patient, "Yes Roxy. I know what I'm doing."

"Man, lay off her," Monty chastised, "Staff Member Harvey wouldn'tta put her on the job if she didn't!"

Bayleigh didn't bother correcting him, finding a roll of thin spike tape and a pen. Then, one by one, she began to trace the input sources, labeling them on the soundboard.

While she worked, the animatronics milled about on the stage, and Bayleigh tuned in and out of their conversation.

"… and what else?" Freddy prompted.

"Well!" Chica continued, "After the Mazersize parties— there were three of them today!— I was pretty tired out! Staff Member Elsa said it would be a good idea to take a break at one of the charging stations, but I was having too much fun! There was this little boy—" She squealed, " Ooooh he was the cutest thing! He kept trying to feed me his pizza! Staff Member Elsa told him that he didn't need to do that because I don't need to eat, but he was so determined!"

Monty snorted, "So you took some little guy's pizza?"

"No no no!" Chica hurriedly corrected, "I didn't take it! He offered to give it to me without me asking!"

"Sure he did," Roxanne said, unconvinced.

"They are just teasing you, Chica," Freddy reassured, "Do not worry."

"And!" Chica added, already moving past the subject, "I saw Mr. Smith and his nieces again! They came to play while he was working, today!" She giggled, "I always love seeing them! They're such super-sweet, super-cute girls!"

Roxanne huffed, "They never come to see me. If they're so cute, they should come by the salon."

"But they're already beautiful!" Chica reasoned, "They don't need—"

"Prob'ly a good thing they don't swing by, then," Monty interrupted, elbowing Roxanne in the arm, "Might wind up showing up Roxy and makin' her jealous."

Roxanne was visibly ruffled, jerking away from him, "Shut up! I'm not jealous of anyone!" She smoothed down a wayward strand of her mane, either to pacify herself or make a point, "Who would want hair that curly, anyway? You can't even brush it, or style it…"

Monty snickered, a growling and metallic sound, "Chica stealin' from little kids, and Roxy jealous of other little kids. Y'all don't have better things to be doing?"

Freddy jumped in before the others could, "What about your day, Monty? You had a party to oversee in the golf course, didn't you?"

"Sure did! Whole bunch of kids— some of 'em had their older siblings with them, who were a whole lotta fun—"

"And what about the one you made cry?" Roxanne asked, a smirk evident in her voice.

Chica gasped, "What?! What happened?"

"I…" Monty laughed, but only once, "I wasn't trying to scare the little guy! But I guess I wound up…"

"Scaring him anyway," Roxanne finished for him.

"Aw…" Chica cooed, "Poor thing."

"I told you, I didn't mean to—"

"I'm pretty sure I've never made a kid cry," Roxanne commented, examining her nails, "It must just be you, doing that."

Monty flinched, "I—"

"I am sure it is alright," Freddy cut in again, keeping his tone light, "Maybe you only surprised the boy? They are quite small, and… well." He chuckled, "We certainly are not. Perhaps that is all it was!"

"Yeah!" Chica piped up, "Besides, you're not that scary, Monty! Only a teensy tiny bit." She pinched her fingers together, leaving only a little space between them, "Thiiiiis much!"

"Heh," Monty replied, much quieter than before, "Yeah..."

Freddy clapped him on the shoulder, "The older guests like your "intimidating" aspects, do they not? I do not think it is a bad thing at all." He peered over at the soundboard, "Miss Bayleigh? Are you ready for us?"

"Huh?" She'd zoned out a while ago, forgetting where she was, "Oh, yeah. Sorry. I'm ready when you guys are."

Animatronics— she was listening to a bunch of machines talk to one another. She forgot that fact more often than not, but every once in a while the reality of it smacked her in the face. If you closed your eyes and ignored the occasional mechanical whir or speaker distortion, it would be indistinguishable from a living, breathing, run-of-the-mill person.

People— that's what she kept mistaking them for. Normal people.

… normal people who were going to cooperate with her for this dress rehearsal, if they knew what was good for them.

"Ooh, 'Miss' Bayleigh?" Chica repeated, "I like that! Can I call you that too, Staff Member Bayleigh?"

"If you want," she answered, trying not to sound too exasperated, "Or you could just use Bayleigh, too— 'miss' kind of makes me feel… like, old."

Roxanne picked up her keytar, "Alright, Miss Bayleigh."

Bayleigh smiled, tightly.

"Harv's note says the first thing to test is individual levels. So, making sure your voices are the right volume and you're annunciating right, then making sure your instruments are in tune, the right volume, you're able to play them right…" She made a circling gesture with her hand, "All that good stuff. It looks like…" Bayleigh found the input she was looking for, "The center mic is the only one that should be on right now, so that's the one I'll have you use. When one of your friends is doing their sound test, keep quiet until it's your turn."

Chica was already bouncing where she stood, "Can I go first? Please?"

"You'll take forever," Roxanne complained, "Just let me get mine over with, first."

"Hey, come on." She'd already slipped into the tone she used to discipline her brothers, "It doesn't matter who's first, as long as someone goes." Bayleigh pointed, "Freddy, how about you go?"

"Why does Freddy get to go first?" Roxanne immediately questioned.

"I—" Bayleigh huffed, "He doesn't have an instrument to test, so it'll be fastest."

Moondrop mumbled something, making Bayleigh turn his way.

"Sorry?"

"Then he should go last," Moondrop repeated, idly tapping the bell on his nightcap, "Easiest for last, when you're tired from the others."

"… that's. Not a bad idea." She looked back at the group, "Is that okay with you, Freddy?"

He nodded, "I do not mind going last."

"Cool. Thank you."

"So?" Roxanne asked, "Who's going first, then?"

Bayleigh tightened her grip on the back of the rolling chair, "Moondrop? Who should go first?"

He continued to toy with the bell, speaking so only she could hear him, "One you need the most patience for."

"Roxy it is."

Despite Bayleigh's simmering frustration, Roxanne did her part seamlessly: voice worked, keytar was in tune, and she played an impressive riff on it when asked.

So, of course, it could only go downhill from there.

"Okay, Chica, can you play your A again for me? It sounds a little off."

When she wasn't answered, Bayleigh looked up from the soundboard.

"Hey. Chica."

The animatronic jerked to attention.

"Huh? Did you say something?"

"Play your A string, please."

Chica did as she was told, "Ooh, that doesn't sound right."

"Didn't think so. Do you think you can tune it by ear or—"

Chica was already humming to herself, turning the tuning peg until it hit the note she was looking for. She strummed the guitar, then looked at Bayleigh expectantly.

"Much better, right?"

"It sounded like it." Bayleigh needlessly adjusted one of the EQ dials, "Okay, I want to make sure the guitar itself is working right, because I know all sorts of things can go out on electric instruments. So can you go ahead and—"

She saw that Chica was once again peering off into space.

Bayleigh frowned, "Chica."

Chica flinched, "Huh?" She blinked a few times, "Did… oh! I'm supposed to tune…" Her memory seemed to catch up to her, and she stared blankly at her guitar, "… I'm…"

"You uh," Monty spoke up, "You did that already, Chica."

"I… did?" She looked at the other animatronics in confusion, then Bayleigh, "When?"

Some kind of glitch, Bayleigh reasoned. But it didn't feel right, somehow, to say that outloud.

"Just… a second ago." Bayleigh scribbled something on the notepad nearby, "Your instrument sounds like it's fine, so you can stop now."

"Oh!" Chica replied, back to her chipper tone, "Okay!"

And then there was Monty.

"Be careful you don't mess up," Roxanne told him, "You'd be the first one."

He growled at her, "Shut up, Roxy."

"Let him do his sound test," Bayleigh reprimanded, "Go ahead, Monty. Let's hear the bass."

The animatronic hesitated at first, but eventually he plucked out a few notes of a scale.

"Do that a few more times, while I check the instrument."

Bayleigh shifted the volume up and down, adjusted the reverb, then returned the levels to normal.

"Sounds good."

"Dunno if, uh…" Monty looked at his bass, then her, "Somethin' might've been off, there."

"I didn't hear anything… you think a string's out of tune?"

"Could be?"

"Play them one at a time for me."

He did, and Bayleigh shook her head.

"Nope. Sounds in tune."

"Yeah?"

She gave him a look, "I mean, you're hardwired for music, aren't you? You'd be able to tell better than me."

Roxanne suddenly snickered, but tried to cover up the sound by fixing her hair.

"What?" Bayleigh all but glared at the animatronic wolf, "Is there a problem?"

Roxanne shrugged innocently, saying nothing.

"I think," Freddy piped up, "That it sounded in tune, Monty."

"It's fine," Bayleigh reassured, "Really. And if it's not, that's an easy fix. You can tune it against Chica's if you need to. No big deal!"

Monty's earlier bravado seemed to have run out, as much as he tried to prop it up.

"Yeah," he echoed, "No big deal."

Bayleigh sighed, then left the soundboard desk, "Oh, give it here, Monty. Let me see."

She was handed the boxy orange bass, and after adjusting herself under its weight, she plucked the thick strings one by one. They barely budged (heavy-duty stuff, given their metal-clawed player), so Bayleigh was forced to strum with her thumb, needlessly fiddling with the tuning pegs. By the time she was finished, the instrument sounded just the same as when she'd been handed it— only now, her fingers strung.

"There." She handed it back to Monty, "Try it now."

He strummed the bass with less effort than her, then offered a sharp-toothed grin.

"Better?"

"You know it!" Before she could evade him, Monty reached out and ruffled her hair, "Thanks, Miss Bayleigh!"

"Alright—" She blew the hair out of her face, but it wasn't enough to hide the smile, "Okay, you're done. Let's let Freddy go, so we can actually work on songs."

Freddy, golden child he was (and with only his voice to test) was over and done in only a few minutes. Bayleigh tried not to let her relief be too obvious. She made the mistake of checking her phone for the time.

12:45.

"Oooookay," she breathed, "So that's done. Finally. That means now we have…"

"Band practice!" Chica cheered.

"Band practice," Bayleigh repeated, with much less zest, "That's right. Harv wrote down that there are four new songs that should've been… programmed into you?" She glanced up for confirmation, "Right?"

"Yep!" Chica replied, "We had our monthly check-ups last week!"

"Bug fixes 'n stuff," Monty clarified, "The bigger stuff that can't be patched up remotely."

"Ah. Well…" Bayleigh tapped a finger against the soundboard, "There's four songs. If we can keep rehearsal time for each of them to… like, half an hour… we can come back to any that give you trouble, with the time we have left. Okay?"

"We will do our best!" Freddy assured her.

Bayleigh fished some additional microphones out of a pile of their black cords, untangling them one by one. Her knees protested against the crouching, but they weren't nearly insistent enough to cripple her (yet).

Moondrop, meanwhile, had lost his perch on the rolling chair's arm, and was now slouched over in the seat. He let his arms dangle down, rhythmically tapping the dirty gray carpet.

"Are you bored, Moony?"

His tapping continued.

Bayleigh joined him at the desk, sitting so that she could see his face, "Do you want to help me with something?"

Moondrop stopped tapping.

"I need to pass out these—" She held up the microphones "—to everyone. They should be able to set up their own mic stands. If I plug in one at a time, can you give the microphone to the person I tell you to?"

He sat up, then returned to perching on the chair's arm.

"Yeah?"

Moondrop nodded.

"Awesome." Bayleigh handed him the first microphone, "Freddy's already got his, so why don't you take this to Chica?"

Without so much as a word, Moondrop vaulted himself over the soundboard and other equipment. Bayleigh labeled the spike tape beneath the microphone's input with Chica's name, idly listening to the animatronics mill about— she heard Chica thank Moondrop sweetly, and something about him being "tiny and cute." Not quite the description she'd pick, but…

Moondrop was back at the desk, peering over the soundboard.

"Next one goes to Monty." She held out the microphone, "Here you go."

The input was labeled, and Bayleigh readied the last. Roxanne was in the middle of setting up her microphone stand, seeming to struggle with one of the extending parts.

Moondrop returned, and Bayleigh gave him the last microphone.

"For Roxy," she said, "See if she needs help with the mic stand. If you can't get it either, I'll just take care of it."

The few seconds that it took for her to glance down and label the input was all the time needed for a scuffle to break out.

"Get off!"

Something metallic clanged to the ground, and Bayleigh's eyes snapped towards the commotion.

"I said I can do it!" Roxanne stepped over the fallen microphone stand to swat at Moondrop, who visibly flinched, "I don't need some creepy thing touching m—"

"Hey!" Bayleigh snapped, "Leave him alone!"

Roxanne met her with wide eyes, caught off guard by Bayleigh's enraged tone.

But she didn't back off just yet, "You do not try and hit him! You could really hu— you could break him, with how much bigger you are!" Bayleigh pointed at the fallen microphone stand, "I asked him to help you with that. He was being nice. You do not do that again. Do you understand me, Roxanne?"

The other animatronics were silently watching both her and Bayleigh, equally shocked by the incident. Eventually Roxanne seemed to droop, and she stared at the stage floor.

"… yes, Staff Member Bayleigh."

Moondrop had slipped away from the stage during Bayleigh's scolding, and she barely caught sight of him slinking beneath the desk, disappearing into the darkness of the gap.

Bayleigh did her best to be rid of the lecturing tone, "When you guys are ready, we'll check the other microphones. And we can get started."

While they finished the last of their set-up, Bayleigh stepped back to peer under the desk.

"You okay?"

She caught the glow of his eyes for only a second before he hid them, vanishing into the dark once again. Bayleigh just pushed back the rolling chair, giving him more space.

The music tracks were loaded onto a flash drive plugged into the soundboard itself. Bayleigh tested the volume, then reset the track.

"Alright. Let's… see how this goes."

---

There was this kid Bayleigh knew in high school. Ironically enough, his name was also Bailey— spelled the reasonable way. During their junior year's spring production, Bailey had fumbled his way into a lead role, while Bayleigh was lovingly slotted into the booth crew. Not that she was still bitter.

Anyway, Bailey— reasonably-spelled, and ironically unreasonable Bailey— had the endearing habit of not turning off his body mic during intermission, when he remembered to wear the mic at all. This led to that year's infamous incident, involving certain embarrassing janitor closet activities being blasted full-volume across the audience of pearl-clutching parents. Which, in turn, led to Bayleigh getting the chewing out of a lifetime from the school's theater director for leaving the microphone volume up.

Bayleigh was the lighting director that year. The vice principal's daughter ran sound.

Must've been a coincidence.

All that to say, 2AM rolled around, and Bayleigh was beginning to almost miss working with high school theater kids. And dear god did that put her in dire straits.

She told Chica one time that a verse was late, and the animatronic had an emotional meltdown. The rehearsal was put on hold so that Bayleigh and Freddy could calm her down. Bayleigh repeated ad nauseum that she wasn't upset, she wasn't telling Chica that she did a bad job, just that she made a mistake. It wasn't the end of the world. They would fix it and move on. After which, Bayleigh was hesitant to so much as look in the animatronic's direction, worried anything less than a smile would set her off once again.

"Okay," Bayleigh breathed, "So Roxy, obviously you know the song, because you're doing your part right. Which is good. But you're coming in early every time, after the first chorus. A little loud, too."

Roxanne huffed, but still refused to meet her eyes.

"It's not my fault that everyone else is too slow and quiet."

Bayleigh bit her tongue before answering, patience teetering, " No. If you're playing with a group, you stick to the original timing, unless everyone agrees to speed up. Or the whole song will get thrown off."

Monty snickered, "Yeah Roxy. No one's gonna wanna play with you if you keep throwin' off the song—"

"Don't," Bayleigh interrupted, "That's not helping, Monty."

"Think of it this way," Freddy ventured, seeming just as peppy as the start of the night, "Part of performing together means compromising for one another, so that everyone is able to show off their unique talents. That way, each of us gets an opportunity to be the star!"

Roxanne snorted, "Right. That's what it is." She needlessly fussed with her bangs, "Not so that we can all stand in the background and make some people more popular than they already are."

"Stop." It was more exasperated than forceful, "We're never going to finish, if this is the attitude you've got. Now, get ready to try it again, and keep in mind what I told you about timing. Chica, can you try and—"

Chica had spaced out, staring at one of the walls.

"Okay, you know what?" Bayleigh flipped off the sound board with a sharp click, "I think we need a break. I think I need a break. So that's what we're going to do."

"For how long?" Monty asked.

"Five."

"Minutes?"

"No, seconds," Roxanne answered sarcastically, "What do you think?"

"I was just makin' sure—"

Bayleigh didn't bother diffusing the situation, moving the rolling chair away from the desk and crouching down to peer underneath.

"Can I hide down here with you?"

Moondrop stared at her in silence, then shuffled into a corner, granting her room. Bayleigh crawled into the small dark space, needing to lie on her stomach to fit comfortably under the desk. Her shoulders ached, and she tried in vain to stretch them, which only resulted in a sharper pain.

"Ugh." Bayleigh peered up at Moondrop, trying and failing to smile, "You okay?"

Moondrop had pulled his legs to his chest, arms wound tightly around them. The bottom half of his face was obscured, leaving the glowing eyes to peek over his knees.

"Too bright." His voice was harsher than usual, "Too loud."

"I'm sorry, Moony. You want me to take you back to the daycare?"

He shook his head.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded.

"Here, I'm taking up all your space—" Bayleigh shifted, lying on her side with her back pressed against the desk, "There. So you don't have to curl up like that."

Moondrop sat with his legs crossed, but kept his hands clasped in his lap. He stared down at them, thumbs tapping against one another.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Moondrop ignored her. Bayleigh recognized the nervous fumbling that had begun in his hands.

"What's making you upset, buddy? You can tell me."

His metal fingers tapped against one another, producing sharp, rapid clicks. The jittering looked to be snaking its way up his arms. Before it could get any worse, Bayleigh reached out and took one of his hands.

"Moondrop."

His head jerked up to watch her, suddenly becoming deathly still.

Bayleigh was undeterred, "What's bothering you? Besides the lights and the noise?"

The animatronic stared at her in silence.

"… not my fault."

"What's not your fault?"

"Being creepy."

Bayleigh frowned, "You're not creepy."

The sound he made was distorted, but she was sure it was a scoff.

"I mean it, you're—"

"Scary," Moondrop interrupted sharply, "Creepy."

"Buddy…"

"Not my fault," he repeated, "Follow the rules, like we're supposed to. Do what I'm supposed to, when no one else does. Doesn't work." Moondrop continued to fumble with his hands, despite Bayleigh's being in the way, "They don't like me. They're scared."

"Moondrop, it's okay—"

He shook his head, making the bell on his cap jingle.

" No ," he stressed, "Don't want to be like him."

"Like who?"

"The other one."

"Like… Sunnydrop?"

He made an aggravated sound, "Don't want to be like him! Don't want to be loud and annoying and loud—" He repeated the sound, "Don't want to be that!"

"And you don't have to be," Bayleigh reassured, "Who said you have to be like Sunny?"

Moondrop's anger seemed to fizzle out, and he stared down at his and Bayleigh's hands.

"They like him better." He still fumbled his hands, but it was listless now, "Being loud. They like him. He gets drawings. Doesn't scare them." Moondrop's voice was quiet, as feeble as his hands had become, "They don't like me."

Bayleigh tried to sit up, bumping her head against the desk in the process and needing to stoop uncomfortably.

"Hey… Moony, it's okay. It's okay— you don't have to be like Sunnydrop to make people like you—"

He freed his hands from hers, turning to face the back of the desk.

"No, listen," she insisted, "I mean it. It's not true that no one likes you. I like you, right? We're friends!"

Moondrop didn't look at her.

"And I don't like Sunny more than you— I don't like one of you better than the other. You guys are so different that… like, you can't compare the two of you. It's impossible." Bayleigh muffled a pained sound as she readjusted herself, "And you know, lots of people like quiet, chill people better than loud energetic ones."

When he continued to ignore her, Bayleigh huffed, then tapped him on the shoulder.

"Come on. Look at me, Moony."

He granted her a sideways glance, just a glimpse over his shoulder.

"I mean it. You're not scary. And it's not true that no one likes you." She smiled, despite knowing that exhaustion weighed it down, "And you know what?"

"What," he grumbled.

"I think that someday, once you meet more people, you're going to make a friend who likes you the best out of all the animatronics."

Moondrop scoffed.

"I do!" Bayleigh laughed, "I mean it. I think you will— you're awesome. It's ridiculously easy to like you. But it'll only happen if you give it a chance."

He turned, only half facing her, and crossed his arms. The hand-fumbling returned, fingers clicking against his arms.

"… you're probably bored just sitting under here, aren't you?" Bayleigh sighed, "Here, let's… give me a second."

She reached up, blindly feeling around the surface of the desk until she found what she was looking for— she lay down again, phone in hand.

"See if you like this."

Moondrop eyed the phone curiously, creeping closer to get a better look.

"You use your fingers to work it." Bayleigh showed him, navigating the screen, "This is the camera. This is where you can listen to music— the buttons on the side control the volume. Don't text or call anyone, please. And… I don't have that many games… uh— oh, yes I do. Here— you can see if you like any of those. It's mostly word puzzles and like, some plant-growing sim I haven't touched in forever." She held out the phone, "And you press the button at the bottom to go back to the main screen. Does that all make sense?"

Once again, he'd found something far more interesting than her, and Bayleigh's question was ignored as Moondrop swiped the screen back and forth.

"Guess so." She patted him on the back, "Have fun, bud."

She squinted as she exited the space beneath the desk, returning to the bright, loud rehearsal space. Roxanne and Monty were still going at it, onto the name-calling stage, while Freddy was talking to Chica, likely to keep her from spacing out again.

"Okay," Bayleigh spoke up, "Break's over. We're going to leave the first song alone for now and come back to it later. Let's try the second one."

Everyone wandered to their places, and a moment later, Bayleigh started the music track.

First cue was missed. Someone was in the wrong key. Chorus came in too early. It was the musical equivalent of an angry raccoon in a trashcan. With no timing. Rolling down a hill.

They didn't even make it to the second verse before she stopped the track.

"Ooooookay." Bayleigh groaned, "So… that's obviously not working out."

"That's puttin' it politely," Monty muttered.

"I think we'll need to try it without the track first," Bayleigh swallowed her mounting frustration and took a second to rub her eyes, "If you guys had like… a drummer or something to help you keep time, it would make a world of difference."

"Ooh, a drummer would be super cool!" Chica commented, "I don't think there's ever been a drummer in the band before! It's too bad we don't have anyone that can do that instead—"

"We could spare Monty." Roxanne chuckled, "He wasn't supposed to be the bass player, anyway. Or do music at all. I'm impressed he can even hold a tune—"

"Roxanne, be n—"

"Shut up, Roxy!"

Bayleigh flinched at the sudden explosion. Monty had wheeled on Roxanne in a matter of seconds, and was currently advancing on her.

"Whoa— guys, hold on, don't—"

Roxanne only backed up a step, holding her ground against the angry animatronic. But Bayleigh saw how much she'd shrunk, losing the cocky posture from before.

"She—" Chica stammered meekly, "Monty, please don't be mad. She was just kidding—"

"Well it ain't funny!" Monty only left a few inches between he and Roxanne, "I told you to quit bringing that up over and over again! You think I like bein' reminded about that all the time?!"

The tension in the room was thick, layered on by the awful tone Monty's voice had taken. Bayleigh, undeterred by the conflict, left the desk to approach the group.

"Monty, hey. Chill." She raised a hand, intending to grab his arm, "She's just trying to get a rise out of you and—"

She couldn't tell what happened first. If it was left to her, she would've been hit as Monty jerked his arm back, rebuffing her touch. However many hundreds of pounds of force that would've been. Into her bare hand.

But she wasn't. Because, apparently, Freddy's reaction time was much better than hers. Bayleigh lost sight of Monty as she became engulfed in the shadow of the animatronic bear, who seemed to be standing much taller than usual.

" Monty. Watch yourself." Freddy's voice had a rumble she'd never heard before, and it made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, "You will hurt someone, if you are not more careful."

Bayleigh's brain rebooted itself, and the reality of the situation hit her like a flurry of pop-up notifications: the several-hundred pound animatronic almost reduced her hand bones into a sack of toothpicks. Because he got angry. All at once, she felt very, very small.

… she was not working with people . This was never safe.

Her wrist was grabbed and Bayleigh jumped, returning to the present. Moondrop pulled her, sharply, away from the other animatronics and towards the desk.

" Move," he hissed, " Back."

Bayleigh obeyed, not in the state of mind to do much else. Slowly, she tuned back into the conflict at hand— Roxanne had edged closer to Freddy, who separated her and Monty with a protective arm.

"— just because you make a mistake now and again does not mean that you are not as good as—"

"As what?" Monty snapped, "Not as good as who? Bonnie, you mean?"

Freddy visibly stiffened, but offered no reply. So, Monty continued.

"You think I don't know that?! That I'm just some stand-in that's been around too long and worn out my welcome?! I know I ain't as good as Bonnie was, and ain't even supposed to be here at all!"

He squared up with Freddy, "But Bonnie ain't here, Freddy! 'Case you haven't noticed, he's gone! Who even knows when he's gonna come back, if he ever does! So you're stuck with second best, and there ain't nothin' anyone can do about it!"

Monty thrust a claw into Freddy's chest, as if daring him to react.

"So if you've got a problem with that," he continued, his voice quieter but much more severe, "You go right on ahead and say so."

Every eye was on Freddy. Bayleigh readied herself for the worst, with no intention of breaking up a scuffle between animatronics, again.

After a pause that seemed to stretch forever… Freddy turned his back on Monty, walking off the rehearsal stage. And a moment later, out of the rehearsal room entirely. The door shut, leaving silence in its wake.

"… whoa." Roxanne whispered.

Bayleigh lowered her voice accordingly, surprised she had it at all, "Is that…"

"Normal?" Roxanne shook her head, "No."

Chica had her arms wound around herself, "He's never gotten that upset before… do you think he's okay?"

"He's fine," Monty snapped, with only a shadow of his previous rage, "Let 'em go."

"Shouldn't we…" Chica barely mustered the courage to speak "… go find him? And make sure?"

"He's fine," Monty repeated, tone rising, "Not like he's gonna get lost."

He took off his bass, shoving it onto a stand and making the whole thing clunk threateningly, "He'll come back."

The other animatronics looked to Bayleigh for instruction; self preservation advised her not to contradict the gator.

"He'll… come back," she repeated, "Pretty soon, I bet."

---

"Pretty soon" dragged on until it became "any minute now," then "before the hour's up." But 2:30 became 3, and still, there was no Freddy.

Everyone had found their own isolated spot in the giant rehearsal room, a healthy distance away from one another. On the bright side, it didn't look like another scuffle would break out, what with no one speaking to one another… but it was a very dim bright side.

Bayleigh was fighting the urge to doze off, aided by the less than comfortable desk chair; she let her legs dangle over one of the arms, using the other for a stiff, sorry headrest.

Beneath the desk, she heard her phone chime— she lazily extended a hand.

"That's a text. Let me see."

Moondrop grumbled.

"Come on. I'll give it back when I'm done. Who's the text from?"

"… says… "Baby Bear"."

Bayleigh shot up in her seat, "Oh— yeah, give me that—"

He gave her an approximation of a skeptical look, "That is not a real name."

"It's—" She eventually managed to snatch the phone from his hand, "Nickname for my brother. It annoys him."

Bayleigh hurried to open the text, eyes skimming across the message: it was a meme. Something about getting up at 2AM to snatch a can of garbanzo beans.

She audibly exhaled, panic abated, and tapped out her reply:

Ha ha. It's late. You're supposed to be sleeping.

Not long after, Blaine responded:

yeah I was then breck woke me up cuz hes crying

Welcome to older sibling life! (Give him a few minutes to see if he'll go back to sleep on his own. If not, go to his room and let him know you're there. If he still doesn't sleep after that, you'll need to hold him for a while).

fine…..

Bayleigh snorted at the passive-aggressive message, "Brat."

She heard an animatronic approach the desk, so Bayleigh instinctively stiffened— until she recognized Chica's voice.

"Ooh, is that your phone, Miss Bayleigh?"

"It is."

"Aw, it's so cute and tiny! So much smaller than the other guests have!"

"I—" She stammered, "Yeah, it's a few generations behind the current one. It used to be my dad's… I mean— it works just as well, right?"

"Can I see it?"

Bayleigh passed the phone to her, and the device was immediately engulfed by Chica's giant hands, making it inoperable— she giggled at the predicament.

"Alright," Bayleigh sighed, holding out her hand, "Give me back my tiny phone."

"Tiny in a good way!" She insisted, "It's adorable!"

"Uh-huh." Bayleigh pulled up her camera, "Say cheese."

Chica held up a pair of peace signs, "Cheeeeeeese pizza!"

Bayleigh took a few pictures, then showed Chica the various filters on her phone— the more colorful, the better. She insisted on taking Bayleigh's picture next, but the "giant animatronic hands" made that less than ideal; they settled for selfies. Several of them.

"Roxy!" Chica called over, "Come take pictures with us!"

Roxanne was pretending to care about her keytar, playing chords without much enthusiasm.

"Pretty please? It's super fun!"

Roxanne hit a sour note, and she cringed.

"I know you're big on pictures, Roxy," Bayleigh encouraged, finding it a bit easier than usual to humor the animatronic, "You could probably teach us a thing or two about it."

"Yeah!" Chica agreed, "You're the best at taking pictures! Can you show us how to do it like you do?"

Roxanne turned, slowly, her eyes narrowed.

"… well. Since you asked so nicely."

Immediately Bayleigh's personal space was invaded as Roxanne nitpicked her pose: she tilted her head down, straightened her posture, urged her shoulders back, and spent a solid two minutes on neatening her braid.

"Ugh," Roxanne muttered, "Do you even brush your hair?"

"No, I groom it like a cat," she said flatly, "Spit and all."

The sarcasm was caught, and Roxanne huffed a laugh.

"It's frizzy."

"We can't all have perfect fake hair like you, Roxy."

"It is perfect, isn't it?"

The animatronics squeezed into the photo on either side of Bayleigh, and to her surprise, she looked… slightly more decent than usual.

"Huh."

"Oooh Roxy you have to see the fun things you can do with the pictures!" Chica urged, "You can add stickers to it!"

"Stickers are for babies," Roxanne replied haughtily, "I'm too cool for them."

"Or maybe you're not cool enough for them." Bayleigh held up the phone, "See if your claws work on the screen at all. They should be small enough."

With the girls occupied, Bayleigh turned Monty, still sulking in the furthest corner of the room, "Monty! Want to take pictures with us?"

He kept his back to the group, not doing much of anything. He did seem to shrink in on himself a little, when she called over to him.

"You sure?"

She saw him shake his head, and her pity grew. Bayleigh sighed, then began to alternate between the balls of her feet and her heels, rocking back and forth to alleviate the creeping pain.

"… hey, girls," Bayleigh spoke up, "Go ahead and give Moondrop back my phone. We'll find something else to do."

Chica obeyed without protest, and Bayleigh beckoned for Moondrop to join her.

"I have a job for you," she told him, "Go sit with Monty for a little bit, would you?"

Moondrop grumbled, "Don't want to talk."

"You don't have to. That's why I made them give you the phone back. You can just sit over there— so he's not by himself. And he knows we're not mad at him."

Moondrop grumbled again, more dramatically, and she stifled a snicker for his sake.

"Please, Moony? It would help out a lot." She tried to reach out and pat his head, but was evaded, so she added, "Monty knows what it's like to scare people without meaning to, too. I think he'd appreciate the company."

The comment made him pause, considering Monty a moment.

"… too many bright colors to be scary."

She didn't bother hiding the laugh this time, "Why don't you tell him that, then?"

After a few more seconds of consideration, Moondrop grumbled, quietly. Then he sulked off in Monty's direction.

"Thank you, Moondrop."

Once she was sure he wasn't going to be swatted at again, Bayleigh returned her attention to the others; Roxanne had picked up her keytar again, so she headed over.

"Hey, Roxy? Could I try that?"

"Can you actually play?"

Thanks for the vote of confidence.

"I can play piano? That's not too different, right?"

Roxanne scoffed, but did hold out the instrument. Bayleigh hid the struggle it took to get the strap over her shoulder, and immediately realized her mistake.

"Oh." She adjusted the keytar's neck, " Oh this is weird."

"Mm-hm." Roxanne crossed her arms, "Not so easy, is it?"

"Well hold one, just…" Bayleigh tried to orient herself to the new playing position, "Give me a second…"

There were far fewer keys than she was used to, but given that she only had one hand at her disposal, she wasn't too worried. Bayleigh tried a few scales, and when they didn't give her any trouble, she played something much less boring.

"Shoot— no," Bayleigh corrected a mistake, "There— I guess I'm lazy and use two hands for that. Whoops."

"Hm." Roxanne huffed, "It could've been worse. I guess."

She knew it was as close as she'd get to a compliment from her, so Bayleigh let it slide.

"Thanks."

"You did so good!" Chica encouraged, a little too enthusiastic to be believed, "Can you play anything else? Can— oh!" She scrambled to pick up her own instrument, "What about guitar? Can you play that?"

Bayleigh swapped out instruments, again struggling under the weight of the thing, and tested the strings: solid and unforgiving. So, it was disappoint the cry-happy robot chicken or lose the skin on her fingertips.

"Do you have a pick?"

"Uh-huh! There's an extra one in the teeny tiny pocket in the back!"

Bayleigh fished it out— the plastic pick was designed like a pizza slice.

I'll say it again: lousy company. Cute branding.

"Alright. This should go better."

And it did! Once she'd adjusted to the force it took to actually strum, Bayleigh was able to play like normal.

"You can do two instruments?!" Chica sounded gobsmacked, "Wow!"

"I can do a couple more, just not as well," Bayleigh replied, focusing more on her playing, "Drums, bass, ukulele… I learned violin when I was little, but never really got the hang of it—"

"How do you know so many?!"

"They made me the fill-in person," she explained, "People were constantly ditching the youth service at church, and since my mom always made us go, they figured it would be a good idea to make me fill in for whatever worship member was out. So, I had to learn the different—"

"What's church?"

Bayleigh stopped, remembering who/what she was talking to. She hesitated, but quickly decided that teaching theology to robots was way beyond her paycheck.

"Nevermind." She awkwardly shifted the guitar strap, "And I mean, it's not so hard to play… just… learn the easy chords that always pop up in songs. You know—" She played the notes as she talked, "C, G, Am, F… for the… you know, the basic chord progression. And then maybe D… E pops up a lot too, or Em…"

To prove her point, she picked out the notes to a song, struggling a second with a trickier chord but eventually making it, "See? Nothing too hard."

"Does it have words?"

"What? The song, just now?"

"Yep!"

She didn't like where this was headed, "It does."

"What are they?"

Bayleigh hesitated, "Uh."

"Can you sing?"

"Everyone can sing."

Roxanne didn't let her slide, "Can you sing well?"

"… I assume so." She found her chord fingering very interesting, all of a sudden, "I've never gotten booed off stage before. That has to count for something."

"Prove it."

Maybe it was about time she went looking for Freddy. He'd been gone for a while, after all—

" Pleeeeeeeease?" Chica begged, "I wanna see!"

"You can't get stage fright if you're not on a real stage," Roxanne told her matter-of-factly.

"That's not how that works."

"And you can't say you're scared of performing in front of people, when there aren't other people here."

That made her feel oddly guilty, distracted from the nerves. "You're people."

Chica giggled, "No silly! We're animatronics!"

… she didn't like this discussion anymore. So, to stop it from continuing any further, Bayleigh gave them what they wanted; she gave herself a longer intro than necessary, and sang, keeping her voice below the sound of the guitar:

There's a new world somewhere they call the promised land

And I'll be there someday, if you could hold my hand

I still need you there beside me, no matter what I do

For I know I'll never find another you

There is always someone for each of us, they say

And you'll be my someone, forever and a day

I could search the whole world over until my life is through

But I know I'll never find another you

"And after that it just like, goes into the bridge and pretty much repeats, so I don't need to do anymore. You get the idea— it's way more 60's than you guys probably play, so I get if it's not—"

Her ears were assaulted by a high-pitched squeal that was unmistakably Chica's.

" It's so cuuuuuuute!" She practically shook Bayleigh by the shoulders, overloaded with excitement, "We never ever get to do any cutesy love songs like that! I wanna hear the rest!"

"You know, if you all would've shown this much enthusiasm while we were rehearsing your songs, maybe we would've been done by now."

"We'll rehearse later," Roxanne told her slyly, " After we hear the rest. We've got all night, don't we?"

Bayleigh made a face, "Says the one who's never been sleep deprived a day in her life—"

"Can I back ya on it?"

They'd forgotten about Monty until that moment. He'd managed to sneak up over the course of their conversation and was idling a few feet away. One of his claws was jittering against a bass string, giving his nervousness an uneasy soundtrack.

The three girls shared a look between them: a mix of wariness and a bit of pity. Bayleigh tried to gauge Roxanne's mood especially, but the lack of expression made this nearly impossible. So, it looked like it was down to her.

"Sure, that'd be cool." She nodded towards the group, inviting him in, "I'll show you the chords."

He'd relaxed considerably by the time he was ready to play, and listened diligently to Bayleigh's instructions.

"If you just come in on the downbeat, that should be enough," she told him, "Once you get the hang of the chords, you can add on where you feel like it. Don't go too crazy though, since you're going to be grounding it—"

A series of tinkling bells distracted her, and she suddenly remembered who was missing.

"Monty, where's—"

"My new pal?" Monty turned around, "Hangin' around, last I checked!"

Moondrop managed to balance himself on Monty's tail, unbothered, more interested in Bayleigh's phone.

It made her grin, "You two get along, then?"

Monty cackled, "What, like it's hard?"

Well, now he was just showing off.

Once Monty had his marching orders, Bayleigh took the time to teach Roxanne some of the chords as well— she gave the animatronic the more interesting accompaniment, resigning herself to the simple melody.

"I stole your guitar," Bayleigh joked to Chica, "So—"

"That's okay!" She assured, "I can just watch!"

"No, that's no fun," Bayleigh joked, "How about you come sing with me? It's supposed to have a melody and harmony part, anyway. You'll pick up on the chorus pretty quick."

Chica gasped, "Really? Can I?"

"It won't be nearly as good without you."

Bayleigh was crushed in a hug, only barely avoiding the fate of an empty soda can. Once she was free, she returned to the sound board, making sure everything was set as it should be.

Moondrop held the phone within her line of sight, "Your brother."

She read the text quickly:

what are you even doing this late at nite? illegal stuff?

Bayleigh had an idea.

"I'm going to borrow this for a few minutes, Moondrop. That okay?"

"Fine."

She propped her phone up on the desk, willfully ignoring the time and depleting battery life, adjusting the camera until the animatronics were all in frame. Satisfied, she began a recording.

"Okay," she told the group, "We'll do each verse once, so you're familiar, then run the whole thing all the way through. It's okay if you don't get it perfect— it's just for fun."

That went out the window in an instant. Any time one of them asked for clarification or to try out something different, Bayleigh was unable to move on until there was no room for confusion. Roxanne picked up the song quickly, and for the most part, waited patiently for the others to do the same.

"Very good," Bayleigh told Chica, "Listen to what Roxy's playing, though. I'm on harmony, so I'm going somewhere different than you are. You have to focus and stick with her."

"You got it!"

"Feel good about your part, Monty?"

"Good as I'm gonna!"

"Well, you've got it down, so you should." Bayleigh took a second to flex her aching fingers, "You think we can do the whole thing from the top?"

"We might as well," Roxanne answered, "No sense in delaying perfection."

Bayleigh snorted, "That's the spirit. I'll give us four, then we'll go. Be ready."

She knew, even in the midst of the music, that it was the best they'd done since the night began. Sure, maybe she was a little biased… but Chica stayed focused, Roxanne didn't jump the gun or speed past them, and Monty looked like he was finally enjoying himself.

If she'd known this was all it took to make them cooperate—

The song came to a close, and Bayleigh's fingers cried in relief.

"Nice work!" She congratulated them, "You see? It doesn't sound half bad when you're not biting each other's heads off."

Chica gasped, "What?! But we'd never—"

"It's a joke, Chica," Roxanne told her flatly, "She means fighting."

"Fighting?" Monty laughed, "Us? Nah, we'd never! We're all pals here!" He clapped Roxanne on the back, "Ain't that right, Roxy?"

She narrowed her eyes. Then, with a dismissive huff, neatened her hair.

"I could be stuck with worse band mates."

" Awwww," Monty teased, "That's her sayin' she loves us, if I've ever heard it!"

Chica dashed over, taking the opportunity to catch Roxanne in a hug, "We love you too, Roxy!"

The look that Roxanne sent Bayleigh could've burnt through a brick wall.

"Alright, leave her alone." Bayleigh took off the guitar strap, "Chica, come get this, please. I'm going to go see where Freddy went— he's been gone long enough. While I'm out, you three practice that second song we were working on. You know what you should be doing now, right?"

Monty offered her an exaggerated salute, "Yes ma'am, Miss Bayleigh!"

"You can take the phone back," Bayleigh told Moondrop as she passed him, "Make sure they behave, alright?"

"They will. Or they'll be punished."

"You do that, bud."

The moment Bayleigh stepped out into Rockstar Row, the lack of fluorescent lighting almost made her fall asleep on the spot. She sucked in a breath, then huffed it out again, slouching until her arms dangled alongside her knees.

Time to go bear hunting.

… and, if she happened to come across a source of caffeine along the way, so be it.

---

Unsurprisingly, Freddy wasn't in his room, but Bayleigh didn't leave right away— she needed to see if Dana had been telling the truth about the mini fridge.

The neon in this room wasn't eye-bleeding: a faint blue and orange, glowing against the warm red walls. On the ceiling, a giant black star was bordered with blue, obscuring a fake night sky.

In the shadow of a red couch, Bayleigh spotted it: a silver and red mini fridge.

"No way." She breathed a laugh, "Dana, you're the best."

The explanation she'd been given was something about "easily accessible refreshments for guests," but Dana had framed it more as an open secret amongst long-time staff. Take what you need, but replace it before you're caught.

Bayleigh crouched down to its level, but when her knees began to scream, she resorted to sitting. She opened the fridge, welcomed by a wave of cold and a small army of brightly colored cans.

Someone had packed in as many ice cream bars as humanly possible, wedged between cans of Fizzy Faz. Bayleigh sifted through the spoils, hoping to find a pink lemonade amongst the orange and sour lime.

Near the back, she thought she saw a grape soda, but the color was off. Curiously, she shoved her arm into the fridge, trying to grasp the can past all the others. All she succeeded in doing was tipping over the front row of cans, causing several to roll under the nearby couch.

"Ugh." Bayleigh surrendered herself to sour lime, setting it aside so she could clean up her mess. She stuffed a few cans haphazardly into the fridge, then lay across her stomach in order to reach the few that had tried to hide in the shadows beneath the couch.

Her hand came into contact with something soft. She whipped it back, panicking at the thought of encountering a rat. But the thing hadn't been furry, she realized, just… soft. Plush. If she squinted, she could make out the shape of the thing, pressed all the way back into the wall.

Only her fingers reached it, not enough to get a grip on the thing. Bayleigh sat up, fitting as much of herself as possible between the fridge and couch, putting her closer to the object.

Finally she was able to pinch the edge of it, and pulled it into the light.

A dusty plush toy. Bayleigh wiped some of the dust bunnies off the larger blue bunny.

Bonnie.

"… huh." Bayleigh turned it over in her hands, examining the details. Red jumpsuit, a bow tie with a star in the center, fake leather cuffs… he fit in with all the others, for sure.

Which begged the question: where the heck was he?

Bayleigh couldn't stand to shove the thing back under the couch, propping it up against one of the couch's pillows. Once that was done, she collected her sugar-filled soda, cracking it open as she stood and downing half the can. As an afterthought, she grabbed another from the fridge.

Once her veins were filled with a 50/50 mix of blood and caffeine, her brain shook off the rust of exhaustion and started letting good ideas come to the forefront: she could either wander the massive Pizzaplex for the next few hours, or she could not do that and find a security office, instead. It would have video feeds from the cameras around the building, letting her find Freddy without doing laps around the place.

Using her handy dandy new access card, Bayleigh let herself into a back hallway, searching for a sign to direct her to a security office. But of course, that would make things too easy! Naturally, there were no signs, no maps, no labels— zilch. It didn't help that Bayleigh had never actually been to a security office before, so she wasn't even sure what she should be looking for.

… okay, so. Maybe it wasn't just good ideas her brain was creating for her.

Many of the upstairs doors wouldn't open at her keycard, so Bayleigh stuck to the lower levels. She encountered tons of storage space for merchandise, cleaning, food… which she was pretty sure should've been refrigerated.

One of the staircases went down, down… until it deposited her on a dark ground floor. The lights were spaced out, leaving long stretches of shadow between them, and the hallway before her echoed with a constant, low drone.

I guess… it's not too out of the question that a security office could be down here?

Her footsteps bounced off the plain white walls as she passed a series of gray, windowless doors. If nothing else, security would've been labeled, right? She didn't investigate any of these rooms, not wanting to spend any longer down here than she had to.

After a bend in the hallway, Bayleigh found herself facing a set of heavy orange doors with push-bars. She tried them, but the doors didn't budge. Not expecting much, she swiped her keycard.

There was a beep, then the thunk of the door locks disengaging.

"Huh." Bayleigh paused, but only for a moment.

Vanessa did say that it would only stay locked if I wasn't supposed to be in there… so, it would follow that if it DOES unlock…

She pushed open the door and slipped inside.

It was even darker here, lights only shining where the hallway bent or split off into others. Even more unnerving, the main hallway sloped down from where Bayleigh stood, rising at random intervals and looking like it narrowed the further it went.

No doors that she could see from here. But there wouldn't just be a hallway that went nowhere. So… onwards.

Many of the branching hallways led to pointless dead ends, making Bayleigh backtrack each time she wound up in one. They gradually pinballed her to another official-looking door, this one red. It was either this, or continue down the pitch-black hall to its left.

One keycard swipe and she was in.

Bayleigh made sure the door shut quietly behind her before turning around… and once her eyes adjusted to the dark, a chill shot up her spine.

The room was small, ceiling much lower than the others. But most striking of all, every surface was covered in colorful padding. Upon further inspection, Bayleigh spotted an overturned plastic table and chair, sized for a young child. Some of the lighter padding displayed dark scuff marks, a few beginning to spill their foam from nicks and scrapes.

The only break in the foam was a large sheet of black glass embedded in one of the walls; Bayleigh slowly identified it as a one-way mirror.

She tried to logic her way past the alarms flashing in her mind— it wasn't out of the question that this place would have a testing room, right? To make sure the animatronics would interact with people correctly… that's all this was! A dark, creepy, abandoned testing room.

And, given that it was the furthest thing from a security office, she was going to leave, now!

Bayleigh didn't hesitate, turning on her heel and throwing open the heavy red door, only stopping long enough to make sure it didn't sla—

Something glowed in the pitch-black hallway. Two small pinpricks of light. A few feet taller than she was.

She stared. The lights stared back.

… and the rest of the figure slowly became visible.

It was a little shorter than the other animatronics, and much skinnier. Wires snaked around bare metal beams, exposed joints and sockets, and the otherwise featureless form.

Bayleigh's heart was hammering in her throat, violent enough that she was afraid she'd cough it up. How had she missed it the first time? And who the hell thought it was a good idea to leave this thing in the middle of a dark hallway?!

Her previous curiosity had evaporated by now, and Bayleigh resigned herself to asking Vanessa for help— assuming she was easier to find than literally anything else in this place.

She began the long walk back through the hallway, approaching a corner she'd need to turn—

Bayleigh skidded to a halt. As she suspected, the footsteps didn't stop when hers did. Her eyes snapped in the direction of the sound, back towards the doors.

The endoskeleton watched her with bright, unblinking eyes. Only half of it was obscured by the shadows now.

"Oh!" Bayleigh squeaked, not intending to make a sound at all, "You— you move!" The skin of her palms became cold with sweat, "I didn't know you d—did that!" She tried to take a step backwards, but her knees threatened to give, "Hi!"

The thing didn't respond. It was just as still as the first time she'd seen it.

Every muscle fiber in her body was bristling, commanding her both to run and not move at the same time. She was stuck in stasis, shaking uncontrollably— her teeth chattered over the thundering of her heart.

She was able to take a step back, then immediately braced for an attack. When none came, Bayleigh clumsily slipped around the corner and out of sight of the thing, almost tripping over herself in the process.

Just keep going, she coached herself, Just go— just go, don't look back, just GO and you'll be fine—

There was a turn she was supposed to take up this way— amongst the dead ends there was a hall she needed, to get her back to the orange doors, back to the lights, to safety—

A hall presented itself on the right. She wasn't certain, but she thought… maybe, it could've been…

At the other end of the hallway she'd just left, she heard them again. Heavy, metal footsteps.

Bayleigh took the right side hall so quickly that she blindly rounded the corner—

She shrieked, recoiling from the second bare endoskeleton. It was standing like it had been caught in the middle of a step, eyes fixed on the hallway corner.

Nope nope nope— no, she was out, she was OUT OF HERE—

She stumbled backwards, back into the hallway—

The first endoskeleton had sealed the distance between them in the short time she wasn't watching it. It stood, motionless, a hand extended towards her.

Bayleigh was too terrified to scream, reaching frantically behind her to find the wall. After an agonizing search she found it, and without breaking eye contact with the endoskeletons, she slunk backwards, using the wall to guide her.

Blinking didn't even feel safe, anymore. Step after step, the endoskeletons grew further away. She scanned them both, waiting for the smallest twitch to alert her of their next move.

The wall ended, and Bayleigh stood by the entrance to another hallway. There was no sense of direction in her mind by now— she knew there was a turn, but couldn't remember where. With the countless dead-end hallways, if she took one wrong turn, the name would become horrifyingly literal.

Above the endoskeletons, the dim hallway lights flickered. When it returned, the things had moved the tiniest bit.

She broke into a sprint down the hall.

It was longer than the others, which gave her a spark of hope. She thought she recognized this one— and if she did, that meant those wonderful orange doors would be just around—

Bayleigh was faced with a dark dead-end.

" No!" She blurted, verging on tears. It took longer than she hoped to talk herself into turning around, turning back— she had to go back— if she wanted to make it to the hallway before those things got there— she had to get there— before—

The lights above her, throughout the entire hallway, went out.

Bayleigh went still. She pressed her back into the wall behind her, sliding down it until she was sitting. The shaking began, outside of her control— it made the keys in her pocket jitter.

Stop, she begged herself, Stop— calm down— please stop—

Somewhere, she heard footsteps. The narrow halls distorted the echoes, making their distance impossible to discern.

Bayleigh cut off a cry, forcing a hand over her mouth. She tried to breathe slowly, silently, but her body wouldn't obey.

Footsteps grew louder.

A hand flew to her pocket, hoping to pull out her ph…

… phone. That she left with Moondrop.

Footsteps entered her hallway.

Everything moved so slowly. Bayleigh stared into the darkness, feeling her stomach start to sink through the floor. Even if she could see, the tears in her eyes would have blurred whatever was out there, lurking—

Footsteps, so close— right there—

Light blinded her, making Bayleigh yelp and shield herself.

" WHAT are you DOING back here?!"

Bayleigh's terror gave way to relief, the rush making her fumble her words.

"V—Va—" She almost choked on the lump in her throat, "Vanessa!"

The light wasn't lowered, "What did I tell you about not wandering around?! What could you possibly need back here? Are you insane, running around in the dark?! What, is it more fun for you this way?"

Between her words, Bayleigh heard it— heavy, metal footsteps. Coming closer.

" Vanessa." Bayleigh struggled to stand, " Vanessa—"

"Stay where you are!" She snapped, "You don't need to be—"

"Vanessa listen to me! There's—"

"Bayleigh, I won't tell you again! Stay down—"

Light glinted off a metal beam, as it moved towards—

Bayleigh dove for the flashlight, wrestling against Vanessa to force it in the direction of the endoskeleton. It froze, towering over them both, mere inches away.

Vanessa's breath hitched, and Bayleigh felt her stiffen… but only for a moment.

"God, not these things again."

She turned to look at Bayleigh— since the light was no longer blinding her, she could see Vanessa's expression. It was not nearly as petrified as Bayleigh had expected it to be.

Nope. At most, she looked annoyed.

"This wouldn't have been a problem," she said calmly, "If you hadn't gone where you weren't supposed to."

The keycard let me in!

"Come on," Vanessa snapped, "I'll get us out of here— but you have to listen to what I tell you, or we're both screwed. Can you manage that?"

Bayleigh withheld a few more choice comments, wanting a way out more than she wanted the final say.

"Yes ma'am."

Vanessa grabbed her by the wrist, "I'm going to walk. You walk backwards. Keep looking at them— don't do anything else."

"How am I supposed to see them if you have the light?"

"I'll sweep it back!" She growled, "I don't want it grabbing me either, obviously! Or do you think you'll get us out of here faster?"

They heard the whir of machinery, and Vanessa flicked her light over— both endoskeletons had gained an inch during their argument.

"Go," Bayleigh surrendered, "I'll do it."

"Yeah. That's what I thought."

Vanessa had the decency to keep her pace slow, letting Bayleigh walk backwards at a steady pace. She fell into the rhythm of checking the hallway before her, then shining the flashlight over her shoulder— each time, Bayleigh was sure the endoskeletons made it a little closer to her. They remained frozen, distance was put between them… until Vanessa needed the light again. And the metal footsteps returned.

"How close are we?" Bayleigh whispered.

"Close enough." Vanessa scanned a hallway, "Mm. Here." She pulled Bayleigh along after her, "One more turn."

"Light— please—"

The endoskeletons had made it a little over a yard away. She was sure she saw the last remnants of motion as they froze in the light.

"You're fine," Vanessa insisted, "Just do what I told you and you won't get hurt. Simple as that."

"Yeah— that's easy for you to say— since you're not watching them come after you!"

"If you don't like how I'm doing things, you can make it back yourself. You want to do that?"

"Light—"

"Do you? Or do you want to listen to me?"

"Vanessa, light—"

"Yes or no."

" NO I don't— Vanessa—"

The light revealed the endoskeletons, mere steps away.

"Now." Vanessa tightened her grip on Bayleigh's arm, tight enough that her nails dug into the skin, "Anything else you want to complain about?"

For the first time, Bayleigh found it very easy to keep her mouth shut.

They walked a bit longer, coming upon the last turn that Vanessa had mentioned.

"Door's just past here," she told Bayleigh, "We're going around a corner. Eyes on them."

She obeyed, trying to keep her shaking at bay. Just a few more steps, and they were out— she'd be safe, and out, and done with these horror-movie rejects—

Vanessa took the corner fast. Bayleigh tripped, landing flat on her back. She blinked up at the dark ceiling before she realized her mistake.

Her leg had been grabbed before she could sit up, and the pull began—

The flashlight's beam flashed across the endoskeleton for a fraction of a second, giving her just enough time to see it slammed into the thing's jaw. The lens shattered, and the light flickered— the endoskeleton, in the sparse bursts of light, staggered backwards, reeling from—

"Get up!" Vanessa grabbed Bayleigh by the back of her shirt, throwing her into a run, "Go!"

They both sprinted to the now barely visible orange doors, looking back more than they did forwards. The flashlight threatened to fail them, flicking off for seconds at a time and giving the endoskeletons all the head start they needed to regain lost ground.

Bayleigh threw herself into the push bar, flooding the doorway with faint but welcomed light. Vanessa joined her a moment later, and together, they slammed the door shut. Not more than a second later, a crash erupted from the other side. Metal fists were hammered into the door, gradually slowing… until, at last, they faded entirely.

Vanessa took a second to breathe, propping herself up against the wall. She peered down at the flashlight in her hand: totalled.

"Great." She tossed it to the floor, the heavy clunk breaking the surrounding silence, "Perfect! Just what I needed tonight!" Vanessa straightened up, wheeling on Bayleigh, "You see now, why I want you people to just let me work alone at night? Instead of needing to stop every ten minutes to fix your mistakes—"

Bayleigh had curled up on herself, head cradled between her knees. Once Vanessa had stopped talking, she heard the crying.

"Wh—what?" It sounded a little sharper than she meant, so Vanessa repeated herself, "What? Did it grab you? What's the problem?"

She didn't get an answer, other than further crying. Vanessa idled where she was, hoping the problem would solve itself; she was never good with crying people.

"… you tripped," she ventured again, "Did you hurt yourself then? Hit your head or something?"

Bayleigh swallowed a cry, finally revealing her face.

"I'm sorry." She hiccuped, "I'm sorry I didn't know— the card let me in— I—" It took a second to get her voice back, "I was looking f—for a security office— and got lost—"

"What did you need a security office for?"

Bayleigh wiped off her cheeks, bright red and blotting out her freckles, "Please don't— make a report and— tell Terrance, please— he'd fire me for anything—" She hiccuped again, losing a little more of her composure, "I'm not trying to mess around, I promise— I promise, I don't want to lose this job— I n— I need the money so I can finally move away from home— I don't— I don't want to get fired— please, I'm sorry—"

" Okay," Vanessa interrupted, "I get it, okay. I'm not going to say anything. It's— it's not a catastrophe, alright? Calm down, already."

She leaned against the wall, waiting for Bayleigh to recollect herself, looking everywhere except in her direction.

Bayleigh cleared her throat, but her voice still betrayed tears, "Sorry."

"It's fine." Vanessa bounced a leg uncomfortably, "You're going to want to stop crying. The animatronics can practically smell it on you, when you do. Then they'll never leave you alone."

She cringed as soon as she heard herself, the tiniest remnants of guilt digging into her mind. So, begrudgingly, she continued, "It's no good, anyway, getting you fired. Just runs the risk of you getting replaced with someone worse."

Okay, well. That wasn't exactly a step up.

Bayleigh pushed herself to her feet, using the top of her shirt to wipe off more tears. She glanced at the doors, then Vanessa.

"What were those things?"

"Standby endoskeletons. In case an animatronic has a major malfunction and needs to be replaced."

"Has… that happened before?"

"Eh." Vanessa played with her answer for a second before granting it, "Not a replacement. So far they've all been fixed, for the most part." She checked her watch, "They're finicky, when they're not programmed to be a specific personality. Do things like—" Vanessa jerked a thumb towards the doors, "—that."

Bayleigh raised an eyebrow, "That doesn't seem like it's safe."

"Who knows. I'm just here to follow marching orders." Vanessa stooped down to collect her broken flashlight, "Doesn't mean I have to like them."

Bayleigh rubbed her eyes, only succeeding in making them redder.

"Why did you need a security office?" Vanessa repeated, "Is there a problem?"

"Ugh." Bayleigh fixed her with a flat look, "Everyone was getting on each other's nerves instead of practicing their songs."

Vanessa's lip twitched into a smile that she quickly smothered, "Sounds like a normal night."

"Freddy walked off at one point, so I was trying to fi—"

"What time?"

"What?"

"What time did he walk off?"

Bayleigh thought, "Uh… I don't know, like… 2:30? Maybe?"

Vanessa made a quiet sound, but didn't share whatever was on her mind.

"… I figured I'd try to find the camera feeds," Bayleigh explained further, "Instead of going around the whole building—"

"No need." Vanessa stood up from the wall, "I know where he is."

"What? Where?"

"Same place he always runs off to." She started for the staircase, "Let's go."

Bayleigh was not about to be alone again, knowing what waited on the other side of those heavy doors. She hurried after Vanessa, hoping she'd make it up the stairs despite the adrenaline crash.

"Remind me to grab a new light, when we pass the office. The place never has lights on inside. Waste of power."

"Yes ma'am."

---

Vanessa led her to the atrium, making a bee line for the second level, and into an area Bayleigh had somehow managed to overlook until now: Bonnie Bowl.

The place was dark and quiet, but Vanessa seemed to know exactly where she was going, heading for the opposite side of the room past an ice cream bar, booths, and a vast sea of bowling lanes.

Sure enough, Freddy stood before a small stage encircled with red curtains, not doing much of anything. He didn't even notice their approach until Vanessa shined her flashlight in his direction.

"This isn't where you're supposed to be, Freddy," she said flatly, "It's only the tenth time someone's had to tell you that. Do we need to put up a sign?"

Freddy flinched, "Officer Vanessa! I… am sorry. I know I should not—"

He stopped mid-sentence, and Bayleigh felt his eyes lock onto her.

"Miss Bayleigh?" His voice betrayed concern, "Has something happened?"

"What? No, why?"

The animatronic stooped down to see her better, "You have been crying! What is wrong?"

Bayleigh's face burned, "Oh, nothing, I wasn't—"

"She said you ran off," Vanessa interrupted, "So she came looking for you."

His ears pulled back, giving him a look of horror.

"I did not mean to—" He turned back to Bayleigh, "I am very, very sorry I have caused you trouble. I did not mean to upset you."

"You didn't," Bayleigh replied quickly, hurrying to beat Vanessa to it, "Don't worry about it— I'm fine, I swear. It's not your fault."

"Maybe you should remember this," Vanessa told him coldly, "Instead of wandering off, next time."

"He's fine," Bayleigh insisted, "You're fine, Freddy. It's okay. Really." She reached out to pat him on the arm, "It's okay."

Vanessa didn't stifle her impatience, flicking her flashlight beam towards the door.

"Go, then. You've got less than two hours to wrap up whatever you were supposed to be working on, all night." She frowned, "Or do I need to make sure neither of you get lost, on the way there?"

Bayleigh's comment was cut off by Freddy's, "I will not wander off again, Officer Vanessa. Miss Bayleigh. We will return to where we are supposed to be."

It took a massive hunk of resolve (and a wave of renewed exhaustion) to talk Bayleigh into following after Freddy, instead of holding her ground and dying on the hill that was this argument. As soon as they'd re-entered the atrium, Bayleigh locked onto Freddy's wrist, bringing them both to a halt.

"I mean it," she repeated, "It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong, okay? Vanessa's just dead set on being a massive b—"

"I should not be roaming where I am not supposed to go," he replied, almost monotonously, "It is… not safe." Freddy's eyebrows rose cheerfully, but his ears still drooped, missing the memo, "It is late, is it not? I think I have kept you all waiting long enough."

They'd only made it to the escalator before Freddy asked, noticeably quieter than before, "You… are alright, aren't you?"

"I'm fine, Freddy."

"You are not hurt?"

"I'm not. I promise."

"You are not upset?"

"I'm not upset."

"You are sure?"

"I'm sure."

He made a low sound of thought, letting Bayleigh know he was still unconvinced. She did what she could to change the subject.

"Hey, so… where is Bonnie, anyway? I totally forgot about him before Monty mentioned him. Other than the bowling alley, there's not really anything with him on it, is there? Why is that?"

Freddy waited for her at the bottom of the escalator, but didn't move any further.

"He…" Freddy's eyes drifted back to the Bonnie Bowl sign above them, "… is on a break."

"For how long?"

"I do not know."

"So he was here before?"

Freddy's eyes shifted.

"Yes."

"When did he go on break? Like, how long ago was that?"

"… I… do not remember."

"You don't r…" She paused, "Is something wrong?"

"No." In the next instant he corrected his tone, "Of course not! Nothing is the matter. It has been a very long night, has it not? I think many of us are very tired by now. Would you like to continue to the rehearsal room, Miss Bayleigh?"

Bayleigh held her tongue for a moment, looking him over.

So he could lie. Badly, but still. She considered mentioning the plush she'd found in his green room, but… really, what would that do? He was upset enough already. No sense in making things worse.

"… that's probably a good idea." She rubbed her eyes, "I'll follow you."

They walked silently through the atrium and into Rockstar Row. The air conditioner, full blast as usual, was able to jolt Bayleigh a bit more awake, as unpleasant as the feeling was. Her brain lurched forward a few steps, sending a jumbled idea to her mere steps from the rehearsal room.

"Wait."

Freddy stopped just short of the door, turning quickly, "Yes? Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I just wanted to talk to you for a second, before we head inside."

He rejoined her, stooping to be closer to eye level, "Of course! What do you want to know?"

"No, I mean…" Bayleigh looked at him for a second, then sighed, "Long night, right?"

He tilted his head, seemingly in agreement, "It certainly has felt that way."

"Yeah, I think so, too." Bayleigh crossed her arms comfortably, "The bickering doesn't help with that, does it?"

"It… does not." Freddy made a low sound, "I am sorry you had to see that. They do not usually act this way. Everyone is quite friendly and happy to be here, I can assure you!"

"I get it," Bayleigh assured, "You don't have to apologize for them, you know. It's not your fault. People just have days like that— even friends. It happens. Doesn't mean you did something wrong, to cause it."

"I understand."

"Good." She offered a smile, "And you do a good job of keeping everyone together. You've got conflict resolution down if nothing else."

Freddy laughed, almost embarrassed, "Oh, well."

His laughter was infectious, and Bayleigh did the same, "No, really! You do a great job. I know they all probably feel better when you're around to tell them what to do." She mock-punched him in the arm, "Don't feel bad, alright big guy? You're good."

Freddy looked at her without speaking. Eventually, his expression relaxed, and to her surprise, he reached up and ruffled her hair.

"Thanks, Bayleigh. Right back atcha."

He entered the rehearsal room, leaving her alone outside.

That. Was not Freddy's voice.

…

… it was late. Her mind was playing tricks on her. Bayleigh blinked repeatedly, pinching the bridge of her nose as if that would clear everything up.

Let's finish the job before you lose it, entirely.

She rubbed her eyes one more time as she entered, hoping to get rid of the last traces of any tears that had stuck around. The animatronics had crowded around Freddy, speaking over one another in excitement.

Moondrop was perched on the rolling chair and turned lazily as Bayleigh approached— then abruptly bolted to life, almost tumbling from the chair as he hurried over to her.

"What? Is everything oka—"

He grabbed the bottom of her shirt, yanking her down to his height and examining her face with concern.

"I'm fine," she immediately assured, "It's— Moony, nothing's wrong. I don't know how you guys are so good at seeing—"

Ignoring her, he stooped to check the spot on her leg that had long since healed, and used to the gesture, Bayleigh guided his hands away from the area.

"I'm not hurt. Nothing's wrong. I promise." She tapped his arm, "Moondrop. Eyes up here?"

He did.

"I'm okay. Okay?" When he didn't reply, she repeated herself, "Nothing's wrong. I promise."

Moondrop eyed her a little while longer… then twitched and released her, returning to the desk. Before Bayleigh could join him, he met her partway, holding out her phone.

"Oh. Thanks." She took it from him, "Did my brother text again?"

He shook his head, bell jingling. Bayleigh sat in the rolling chair, withholding a grunt of pain. Before she knew it, Moondrop had perched on one of the arms, watching her with unblinking eyes.

"Did everyone behave?"

He nodded.

"Good." She bopped his nose before he could evade her, "Thanks for keeping things in line, bud."

Moondrop grumbled, but didn't leave the chair's arm.

"So since you guys had so much time to practice," Bayleigh addressed the band, "That means the second song is going to be perfect now, right?"

"You know it!" Monty answered confidently, "We're gonna get it right on the first shot!"

"Well, let me hear it, then."

Chica stooped to pick up Freddy's microphone, holding it out to him.

"Freddy! We had so much fun while you were gone!" She told him excitedly, "Miss Bayleigh taught us a whole new song! And! She sang it with us, too!"

"She did?" Freddy flashed Bayleigh a smile, "Wonderful!"

"It was decent," Roxanne cut in, "Decent enough."

"Can we play it again, Miss Bayleigh?" Chica pleaded, "Since Freddy didn't get to hear? Pleeeease?"

"We'll see." Bayleigh checked the inputs, "If we finish at a reasonable time. Maybe." She gave them a look, "Which definitely won't happen if we keep talking about it instead of playing."

Chica squeaked, hurrying to put on her guitar and get in place, "I'm ready I'm ready! We can start!"

"Alright then. You guys know what to do." She started the music backing track, "Rock and roll me."

---

Blaine was, shockingly, too big for the crib he was currently stuck in. Both his legs dangled over the side, and the toddler mattress didn't offer much in the way of back support. He'd never bothered to grab his glasses from the nightstand upon being woken up, so the mobile above his head was a fuzzy blur, spinning idly.

A spot on his shirt went cold— Breck had begun to drool in his sleep, sprawled out across his brother's chest. After much trial and error, Blaine discovered it was the only way his brother would stop screaming and go to sleep.

He hadn't bothered to figure out how he'd slip out of the position, without undoing hours worth of work. So. Here he was.

His phone buzzed beside him, so Blaine picked it up, squinting in the light. Once it no longer hurt his eyes, he held the screen close to his face, struggling to make out the message he'd been sent.

Finally, Bayleigh (though his phone had her labeled as "Tigger") had replied to him— by sending a video.

Blaine stared at the thumbnail, blinking a few times before taking another look.

No, he'd seen it correctly the first time. His sister was standing amongst a bunch of tall, colorful robots. With instruments. On a dinky little stage.

"What…" he whispered, "The…"

He immediately played the video, needing to slam down on the volume button within the first few seconds. By some miracle, Breck was unbothered, only shifting a bit in his sleep.

Bayleigh was talking to the robots like they were people— and weirdly enough, they were responding like them, too. For a minute he wondered if they were just like… people in costumes? But the voices, from what he could hear, were clearly mechanical. They moved like machines, too. It was an odd mix of human and not quite human.

Creepy.

Once they finally got to playing, Blaine scoffed.

"Why are you making the 80's guys play hippie music?" He breathed, "Missed opportunity, dummy."

The video ended, and Blaine typed out his reply:

weirdo. And your Bs are flat.

He downloaded the video to his camera roll, immediately hopping over to social media to drop it in a post. While it uploaded, byte by tedious byte, he went back and forth on the caption. Eventually, he settled on:

"my sisters cooler than yours, just sayin #bandpractice #freddyfazbears #nightshift"

Blaine wasn't worried— he had her blocked on this account. There was no chance of her coming across the compliment.

---

The clock struck 4:45 AM, and at long last, rehearsal came to a close. The band was as close to "tired" as animatronics could feel, running a little slower than the start of the night.

"Wow," Chica mumbled, "I am sooooooo sleepy…"

"My battery's gonna konk out on me in a couple'a minutes," Monty joked, "Think that means it's time to call it."

"Use your charging station this time," Roxanne told him, voice droning a little, "Instead of making me walk all the way to Fazerblast."

"What? You can't manage the three minute walk?"

"I shouldn't have to, if you would just use—"

Moondrop scurried over, yanking the microphone from her hand.

"Quiet," he hissed, "Sleeping."

"Sleeping?" Roxanne questioned, "What do you m—"

Her gaze shifted to the desk, answering her own question.

Bayleigh propped her head on one of the chair's arms, legs pulled up to fit in the seat with the rest of her. Her face was half obscured by hair, creating a messy mask of peace.

"Awwww," Chica cooed, "How cu—"

Moondrop hopped onto the back of the chair, looming protectively over her.

"Quiet," He demanded, more severely this time.

Freddy kept his chuckle to himself, speaking as softly as his speakers allowed, "The Pizzaplex will open in a few hours. We should take the opportunity to charge, then return to our rooms for the day ahead."

Chica nodded, "You got i—!"

" QUIET."

She covered her beak, offering a meek thumbs-up instead.

"Goodnight," Freddy told his friends, "Good job, today!"

Roxanne offered a lazy finger-gun, "Good morning, you mean."

"Always gotta be Miss Technical about it," Monty huffed, but he repeated her gesture, "Night, Freds."

"Goodnight, Monty."

The three animatronics left the room one at a time. When Freddy returned his attention to Moondrop, he realized the daycare attendant had gathered up the last of the equipment— microphones, stands, cords— and returned them to their proper places.

"You are very good at that," he commented, "The daycare must be spotless, with you tending to it."

Moondrop grumbled, switching off the sound board and crouching atop it, watching Bayleigh.

"… I think she will be alright, if you wish to leave her here," Freddy advised, "I am sure you need to charge for—"

"No."

Freddy stopped, "Oh." He thought about it for a moment, "Would… you like to wait with her here, then?"

"Too bright."

"Hm." This wasn't exactly leaving him a lot of options. Freddy looked at the sleeping Bayleigh once again, filtering through solutions.

"Perhaps… you know of a better place for her to sleep, then?"

This idea wasn't shot down immediately, at least. Moondrop grumbled, sofly.

"If you do, I would be happy to bring her there."

The daycare attendant's head snapped—audibly—in Freddy's direction. The threat was easily received.

"I will be extremely careful," he reassured, "Do not worry. We will not allow a guest or staff member to be hurt, correct?"

Moondrop stared at him, then shifted his attention back to Bayleigh. He fumbled with his hands for just a second before grunting; he hopped off the desk, bounding to the rehearsal room door, and waited expectantly to be followed.

Freddy was slow and methodical as he gathered Bayleigh into his arms, calculating each move to ensure it wouldn't result in a slip or jostle. She was light, but most things were to him. Once he was confident in his hold, he joined Moondrop, whose red eyes bore right through Freddy's outer casing.

"She will not fall," Freddy promised with a chuckle, "Do not worry."

They slowly made their way out of Rockstar Row, into the atrium and towards its east end. Freddy cast a cautionary glance to the upper levels, relieved when he didn't see any sign of Vanessa; he wasn't eager for another surprise encounter, that night.

Immediately he discouraged the thought— Officer Vanessa was a valuable Pizzaplex employee! She took her job very seriously, is all. She… was fair. Perhaps not nice, but fair. She followed the rules, so that they would all stay safe. Which… made her good. Officer Vanessa was good.

Even when she didn't act like it.

Freddy followed Moondrop into the pitch black Superstar Daycare, up its carpeted stairs and into the theater. He watched with curiosity as Moondrop sprung into the air, flashing a light onto one of the movie posters on the wall. Somehow this revealed a door, and a trash-strewn hallway behind it.

"I did not know this was here," he admitted, "What is this room?"

Moondrop ignored his question, scurrying to the end of the hall and opening the door. He waited for Freddy in silence.

The room beyond wasn't much cleaner, or any more welcoming than the hall. Freddy looked around for a comfortable place to set down Bayleigh, but nothing struck him as especially suitable…

Moondrop shut the door behind them, crawling to a blue plastic tunnel in the wall.

"Wait," he hissed, "Here."

He disappeared inside, not needing to wait for an answer. Freddy idled patiently.

A pillow was tossed out of the tunnel, hitting the floor with a plush thud. Two more joined it. Another, much larger than the others, popped from the small tunnel entrance, and Moondrop tumbled out after it.

Freddy laughed, "Do you think those will be enough?"

Moondrop's expression was likely a glare. He pulled another three pillows from the tunnel in response.

"Come. Here."

Freddy did as he was told, waiting for Moondrop to adjust the cluster of pillows to his liking (much of it looked like nit-picking to Freddy, but he didn't say so— he was in no hurry). Once he was done, he looked up at Freddy.

"Careful."

Freddy knelt down, lowering Bayleigh to the pillow mound. Moondrop, apparently unsatisfied by his level of caution, took one of Bayleigh's arms to guide her down as well.

"There. You were right. I am sure this is much more comfortable than the chair."

"Mm."

"Goodnight, daycare attendant."

"Mm."

Moondrop waited impatiently for Freddy to leave— once he had, he adjusted a pillow that was bothering him. He rose and circled the pillow mound, scouting for anything that might've shifted in the process. Satisfied, he crouched, content to watch her again.

In the back of his mind, a battery alert made itself known— 30% power remaining. He peered over at the charger… before deciding he'd make the other one do it, instead.

Speaking of which.

Moondrop climbed back into the tunnel, sifting through the disorganized mess that Sunnydrop had inflicted on the space, until he found paper and an unbroken crayon.

He crawled partially out of the little hideaway, setting the paper down to carefully inscribe his message:

"DO NOT WAKE UP. NEEDS TO NAP."

Moondrop placed the warning down beside Bayleigh, checking once again that nothing had gone awry in his absence.

It hadn't. For now, at least, things were… acceptable.

He watched her in silence until, little by little, contentment eased in. Moondrop relaxed as much as he was able to.

"Nighty night."

Before he left her to sleep, Moondrop took the phone out of her pocket, slipping back into the tunnel before he could be caught with it. He'd already decided he wouldn't play with the arcade machine tonight— made too much noise, for someone sleeping nearby.

He'd left one pillow in the tiny hideaway for himself, which he curled up on top of, settling in for the remainder of the night. Moondrop opened the music app, which he hadn't been able to explore yet. He didn't expect to find much; there had been more than enough loud, obnoxious music over the last few hours—

A tab on the side showed some of her playlists. One was labeled "Chilltime Beats."

… maybe. That one would be okay.

---

Thank you for reading! Long time no see! There's been a whole movie released in between the last chapter and this one… hey, maybe I'll get this story done before the inevitable sequel! But I wouldn't hold my breath. I'd really like to get another chapter done soon, but WOW, it is going to be a lengthy one. As in, the longest one thus far (not including this one, whoops) has been maybe 21K words, and I have a funny feeling the next one will be about 10K longer than that. Oof. Well, we'll get there when we get there. Until then, happy holidays (and if you're reading this when it's long since passed the holidays, save it for next year) and thank you again for reading. As always, feel free to leave any comments or critiques you have— I'm always open to hearing how I can improve or what you'd like to see more of.

(Oh, and happy two-year birthday to this story! And happy 4 month anniversary to this website's stat counter being broken! Here's to what I'm sure will be many more!)