I do not own Freddy Fazbear or any other Five Nights at Freddy's characters, only my own original characters. Now please enjoy!
Viewer Discretion: depictions of PTSD
—
The pizzaplex sat quietly at the end of a long day. The guests were gone, and the halls were empty as only the sounds of electronic games and settling pipes filled the desolate air. Everything was peaceful and ready for lockup, the time for the building to rest. Soon the automatic doors locked themselves shut before the daily shutdown message crackled over the speakers. "FREDDY FAZBEAR'S MEGA PIZZAPLEX IS NOW CLOSED! INITIATING NIGHTTIME PROTOCOLS!"
When the message ended, the storefront security gates rumbled to life and descended over the entrance, emitting a mechanical creak as they went. The gate was about a quarter way down when a masculine voice called out. "Wait!" they hollered, sprinting as fast as they could down the stairs behind the Freddy statue. "Wait! I'm still in here!" The man hopped down the stairs, hissing when he landed harshly, and felt the impact radiate up his legs. It was painful but didn't stop him as he reached the bottom.
"I'm here! Stop the protocols!" he yelled as he raced across the floor. The gate was now more than halfway. Adrenaline surged through his body as he picked up the pace, dodging debris and lost items the STAFF bots had yet to clean up when he suddenly lost balance. The man crashed to the floor with a painful thud; he felt his stomach skid across the ground before a heavy sound echoed across the lobby, indicating the gates had fully shut.
Pushing himself up in the plank position, the man looked at the doors in a panic and, upon seeing the security gates decorated with the cartoon version of Freddy staring back, hung his head in defeat. He stayed there a moment more before hitting the ground in anger. "Come on!" he screamed angrily. "This is the fifth time this week!"
As he spoke, the man pulled himself to his feet but stopped when a string of dull throbs shot through his front side. He groaned and clutched his stomach in pain. Then, confused by the stinging feeling, he raised his shirt slightly and saw an enormous red mark already beginning to bruise from the dry slip-and-slide ride he had taken.
He stared at the injury blankly before his eyes narrowed in disgust. "Great, just great," he growled and angrily released his shirt. "That's another problem I have to deal with for the next week." He hung his head and rested a hand on his hip, rubbing his hair-covered face with the other.
"Why do they always do this?" he grumbled before sliding his hand up his face, removing his long brown hair and revealing the sizable facial scar unique to the pizzaplex's head mechanic. Gregory sucked in a deep breath and stared at the ceiling. "They know I stay late. They know I leave right before the security gates go down, so why do they insist on closing them five minutes early?!"
Gregory took another deep breath before rubbing his eyes and looking at the door. "It's fine, it's fine, everything is alright." He smiled irritably. "I'll just call Vanessa or whoever is on shift tonight." Gregory chuckled tiredly and raised his wrist where his old fazwatch sat.
He stared at himself in the dark reflection before tapping it with his other hand, but nothing happened. Gregory raised a brow and tapped the glass again, but still nothing. "What?" he asked quietly and continued touching the screen with no result. "Damn it," he cursed under his breath. Then Gregory perked up, remembering his phone in his pocket.
He fished out the small device and repeated the same action but got the same result. He stared at the blank screen, eye twitching. "Are you kidding me? How are they both dead?!" Gregory let out an exasperated mumble and rubbed his head. "You know what, I'm not going to get mad. I'll talk to the staff in the morning. I'm too tired, let's just walk to the security office. No biggie."
Then, without missing a beat, Gregory returned his phone and spun on his heel toward a side door. As he moved, Gregory ignored the bright lights and flashing colors of the restaurant's attractions that illuminated his exhausted face, wondering why management insisted on keeping them on despite running up the electric bill. Finally, he sighed and shook his head, wanting to go home and see his wife and daughter.
Gregory allowed the image of his little family to linger in his mind while he strolled along the floor, putting his hands in his pockets as a tired but happy smile crept across his face; he was excited to get home and sleep because tomorrow was important. Tomorrow his family of three would grow when the Glamrocks finally met his four-week-old child, Izabella Frida.
He looked forward to it, but he had to focus right now. When he finally reached the door, Gregory swiped his access card and grabbed the handle. As he pulled open the door, Gregory's brown eyes glanced down at his hand but jumped when he saw the arm of a child. Gregory yelped and stumbled back, losing his grip on the door and causing it to relock. He breathed heavily, the joyful smile replaced by a startled agape expression filled with puzzlement and alarm.
He gazed between the door and his arms but saw nothing. His hands were normal-sized, and there was no one else around. He was alone. Gregory stared, confused, but as the adrenaline dissipated, the familiar exhaustion returned to him, and Gregory shook his head. "I need more sleep," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose before swiping the card again. "I'm seeing things."
This time he pulled open the door without issue and entered the back halls. He waited for the door to shut behind him, then made his way down the familiar path, listening to the click of his heels against the hard concrete, and allowed his mind to wander again. As he walked, Gregory's thoughts floated to old memories, and he recalled the many times he walked these halls in the past, the hidden corridors that allowed him, the other employees, and even the Glamrocks to get around quickly without being bombarded by the boisterous pizzaplex clientele. They were long but practical, and for Gregory, these walls held many memories apart from his job.
Within these halls, he bonded with the Glamrocks, the robotic family he had come to love. The pizzaplex was like a second home to him; he discovered it after running away as an orphan. He remembered being on the streets, cold and hungry. He was searching for a new spot to stay when he saw the mall-sized pizzeria. Back then, there were way more buildings along the old Utah county road, but now they were torn down and turned into parking lots or covered with sand.
As a prepubescent kid, the colorful cartoon characters intrigued him, and he decided it would be an excellent place to have some fun and spend the night. He recalled sneaking behind a large group and viewing the show where he saw his future adoptive father for the first time. Gregory felt so excited to see the animatronics. He waited in the crowd, pumped for the tall bear to start singing, when Freddy started to glitch and fell to the ground. Before he knew it, the show was canceled, and staff herded the audience out.
He remembered feeling disappointed but decided to go find a place to sleep. He had just located a hidden and seemingly unused room to rest when someone else discovered him, a woman wearing a white rabbit suit. Despite hearing the details from Vanessa later on, he continuously questioned this part, but what he did know was those big red eyes, the hand-stitched fabric, and that oversized bowtie unnerved him to no end.
He remembered her, Vanny was her name, she wanted him to follow her, but Gregory knew stranger danger, so he refused. And that made her mad. Gregory remembered how quiet Vanny was, her voice barely above a whisper. However, after his refusal, her voice got louder and louder. It was so rackety that it sounded distorted, glitched even. He remembered her eyes getting so bright while her mouth seemed to grow inhumanly big before she reached behind her back, and then…
Suddenly the very image of the red-eyed and psychotic smiling bunny flashed before him; her wicked laughter rang in his ears, disappearing as soon as it came. Gregory's soul nearly left him as his hand surged to his face where the large scar lay, the same action he performed when he received the wound as a child. He felt his face and sighed; normal skin. There was nothing out of the ordinary, yet Gregory swore he felt the rough texture of a bandage for a split second. He was beyond spooked now as the recollection of the rest of that fateful night flooded his mind.
Gregory looked around; he was alone. However, he still felt like something was with him; the feeling crept into the back of his mind. But, not knowing what else to do to settle his nerves, Gregory called out. "Hello?" His voice bounced off the metallic walls. He stayed quiet, listening for a reply before he did it again. "Is anyone there?"
Nothing.
He tried one more time to be sure, but the only sound was his own question fading into the building's depths. Finally, Gregory stopped, but his gut still gave him a bad feeling. Soon he resumed walking, albeit much faster. He crossed his arms across his chest defensively, walking tentatively through the maintenance tunnels toward the security office, where he could finally leave.
The walk was long but doable, like the many other times before. Although, right now, something felt different. This wasn't the pizzaplex Gregory grew up in; now, it felt foreign, like the first night he arrived. Gregory knew he was alone but couldn't shake the feeling of being followed. As he passed the hallways that intersected or jetted out from the main path, Gregory glanced down their dimly lit corridors, their rusted pipes and chipped concrete floors only illuminated slightly by the cheap and rather old exposed lightbulbs hanging overhead.
He stared at their walls and the shadows that occupied them, trying to find something to ease his anxious thoughts, only to end with them worsening tenfold. Eventually, he stopped trying and continued moving as quickly as possible, short of running.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Gregory reached the security office, a tiny room built awkwardly in a semi-box circle with two large doors that moved up and down at the push of a button. A mechanism that he had operated before. Gregory knew this area well, and despite years since his escapade with Freddy, the place still left a bad taste in his mouth.
However, the past was unimportant. Now he needed to get home. So in one movement, Gregory trekked to the entrance, took a deep breath, and knocked on the metal door thrice.
He waited, rubbed his shoulders as a cool breeze blew through the room, and knocked again. Several minutes passed before Gregory tried for a third time, but by now, his irritability far exceeded what he could handle for the night; now, he was pissed.
He banged on the door. "Hey? Hey!" Gregory hollered through the thick metal. "Is anyone in there? You activated the security protocols too early again, I was locked inside, and my devices are dead!"
There was no answer. Gregory huffed as he moved to the window five feet off the ground. He peered through the wire-meshed glass and saw that the lights were off without a human presence. Instead, the only light that appeared was from the dim LED neon lamps that reflected the pizzaplex's aesthetic. They illuminated the room but not by much, just enough to show that even if a security guard were here, they were long gone by now.
Gregory furrowed his brow. "Great," he growled, pushing back from the tall window. "They're not here." He closed his eyes. "Probably on patrol on the other side of the damn building."
Gregory leaned one hand against the window while the other rubbed his face. "Fate is really testing me tonight." He pulled his hand away with a sigh, and the moment he did, something caught his eye.
Surprised, Gregory turned to the window again and squinted through the glass. He saw a light flash in the dim room through the dirty but transparent material. And not just any light; the adjacent hallway glow highlighted the unmistakable silhouette of a human. Gregory's eyes lit up, and he banged on the door, never taking his eyes off the figure. "Hey!" he yelled, hitting harder on the metal. "Hey! Can you hear me?"
The person didn't react to Gregory's efforts. Instead, he watched as they started to move and leave the room. By the light of the flickering hallway, he saw them exit the office, looking as if they glanced over their shoulder before turning left into the hall.
Gregory's eyes widened when he saw them leave. "H-hey!" he yelled and pushed away from the wall. Gregory lurched as pain shot through his body from the previous injury but continued to run down the short hall, bouncing off the walls and down the second area. "Hey, stop! Wait, please!" Gregory rounded the final turn. "Hey! Who are…you…" His voice trailed off.
Gregory scanned the area, confused; no one was there. Not a trace of a guard or other living soul. The feeling of dread began to return as Gregory looked around meekly. "Hello?" he said, searching the area for clues. "Is anyone here?"
As predicted, there was no response. More worry spread through Gregory's mind, not because he was alone again, but because it felt like he wasn't. He may be tired, but he was not blind. He saw a figure standing in the doorway and saw it leave the security office. Yet there was no one there; he also never heard the heavy metal sound of the exit door that was notorious in the pizzaplex for being one of the loudest in the entire building.
He looked around as his neck hairs stood on end, then he began to sweat. The nagging feeling at the back of his mind was more powerful than ever, and so was his desire to leave. Keeping an eye over his shoulder, Gregory turned to go. But another flash caught his eye as he was about to take the first step.
Gregory halted but didn't move. Although he continued to see the flickering in his peripheral vision, he still didn't budge. Every cell in his body screamed for him to leave, but it was like he was a kid again, and his curiosity got the better of him. Finally, Gregory straightened his back, took a deep breath, and turned to the light.
Facing the doorway where he had seen the strange figure previously, Gregory squinted into the dark room. From afar, he could see the light coming in through the first window and other illumination coming off the neon lights. However, what caught his attention was a flickering desk lamp shining over scattered papers.
Run. Get away. At least walk! His mind yelled hundreds of similar thoughts as his self-preservation worked into overdrive to get Gregory out. Though it was pointless as his curiosity once again took over. Hesitantly, Gregory walked inside, his arms tense with fear as he reached for the light switch. After finding it, he flipped it on but quickly realized the bulbs were burnt out.
"Seriously?" Gregory huffed, flipping the switch three more times. Eventually, he gave up and stomped to the desk, angry, tired, and hungry. He planted his feet with a grumble and scanned over the contents. The desk was quite large; on its surface were three desktop monitors, a picture of Roxy, a corded phone, a pencil holder, a walkie-talkie, a rickety old fan that desperately needed replacing, and several crushed cans of Fizzy Faz scattered about the table. He blinked and then turned to the papers scattered haphazardly under the light.
He raised a brow and reached for the stack. Gregory shuffled through the papers, only giving them much mind once he reached the final few stapled together. At the top of the packet, he read: "Employee" History.
Gregory cocked his head to the side curiously, puzzled by the quoted word but read on. Below the title were three columns: Name, Date of Hire, and Status of 'Employment.' In a list of employees, both past and present, he recognized more than a few names of people who worked in different departments such as security, maintenance, and human resources, with a few even having a termination notice in their third column; this was indicated by a large red TERMINATED stamped into the box.
Everything seemed normal, and Gregory began to relax, wondering if all the paranoia was indeed just in his head. "I need to stop binging horror marathons with Chica," he mumbled, flipping a few more pages. "I'm losing my m—"
Gregory's voice suddenly cut off. His blood ran cold, and his hand shook as he stared at the last page where eleven 'employee' names were written. He read them slowly, getting sweatier the further he went.
Charlotte Emily—Hired: 1983—Status: TERMINATED
Susan Chico—Hired: 1985—Status: TERMINATED
Gabriel Bearchald—Hired: 1985—Status: TERMINATED
Fritz Fox—Hired: 1985—Status: TERMINATED
Jeremy Usagi—Hired: 1985—Status: TERMINATED
Cassidy Goldbeart—Hired: 1985—Status: TERMINATED
The termination stamp of the last name looked as if someone purposely dragged their finger through the entire word, smearing the ink into a disgusting, dried, bloody mess. By this point, Gregory's body had already pumped tremendous amounts of adrenaline into his system, but it didn't seem to have much effect as he read on. His eyes widened as he saw five more names, all hired in 1987 and all with a big crimson TERMINATED in their third box.
"What is this?" Gregory's voice trembled, his fear seeping through. Those names, these people, he had never met them, but he knew of them well. They were never hired at Fazbear Entertainment, but he knew they never left. He knew the brand's history and knew precisely who would come if he didn't leave this building immediately.
Carefully, Gregory placed the papers back on the desk while a pit formed in his stomach. He set them down neatly and slowly began to back away toward the exit when the old desk fan suddenly burst to life. Gregory screamed and shielded his face as an impossibly strong wind swirled throughout the room.
The desk contents were thrust from their positions and thrown across the office, shattering when they hit the concrete and terrifying Gregory to his core. The man turned and ran for the exit, only to crash painfully against the steel door nose-first.
He groaned in pain but quickly forgot about it when Gregory realized he was trapped. Both doors locked him inside, and suddenly it felt like he was a child again, trapped inside the security office. Hunted by Vanny, the controlled Glamrocks, and the other mindless endos and STAFF bots who sought to stain their metallic claws with his blood.
The wind was deafening, and Gregory watched the contents of the desk whirl together in a tornado at the center of the room. Adrenaline coursed through Gregory's veins, his heartbeat quickened, and his lungs started to fail. Flashes of that dreaded night appeared over his vision, turning his arms into his twelve-year-old self while shadowy figures peered with crimson eyes through the tiny windows at him.
Gregory sank to the floor. He clutched his shirt as his chest heaved rapidly; his breaths were uneven as pure fear seeped from his body. His arms began to shake as he held himself up when something smacked him in the face. Gregory grabbed the object with a quaking fist and held it out.
The wind threatened to rip it from his hands, but he held firm, and Gregory quickly realized it was the list of names, and at the bottom were four new ones. He read in succession:
Vanessa Anderson—Hired: 2029—Status: RELEASED
Gregory Anderson—Hired: 2034—Status: TRAPPED
Gregory stopped when he saw the last name; someone he suddenly remembered was no longer around.
Mia Anderson—Hired: N/A—Status: TERMINATED
Tears pricked at Gregory's eyes as the realization dawned on him before the sound of a child crying pierced his ears. Suddenly the wind grew louder, and the jump between his adult view and childhood memories was like strobe lights. Flipping between the regular empty room and several red-eyed figures that crept closer to him after each change.
Every sense was beyond overwhelmed, and just as he felt himself begin to pass out, Gregory read the final line. Izabella Frida Anderson—Status: To be Determined…Then he finally blacked out.
Gregory writhed in pain and struggled as he saw the figures get closer. A yellow animatronic with purple eyes stood behind them as Vanny got in his face and raised her knife; she came down on him when he screamed. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" Suddenly Gregory thrust his fist outward, and his eyes flew open. His frantic strength sent something flying across the room, crashing into another object and causing more things to crash noisily to the ground. The sudden noise caused the children's cries to grow worse, sending more panic through his body. Gregory's vision was blurry and dark; he couldn't see anything as his blood pressure rose.
He curled into a ball as his anxiety attack was in full swing, the strange wailing only making things worse. Gregory felt his chest tighten and limbs weaken; his vision was beginning to tunnel, and the specter of death clouded his mind. He was nearly passed out when suddenly he heard the ringing of a familiar song. Instantly, Gregory was pulled back to reality and recalled where he was. He grabbed his chest and began doing the breathing exercises practiced with his therapist.
After a few minutes, Gregory managed to calm down and slow his heart. He clutched his shirt, and the child's crying continued, confusing Gregory. Once his heartbeat returned to normal, Gregory finally got a look at where he was. It was dark, and the only light came from a small digital clock, but Gregory realized he was in his room and had again experienced a nocturnal panic attack.
While keeping his eyes on the ground, Gregory gripped his blanket until his knuckles were white and reached for his bedside lamp. Suddenly weak light filled the room and illuminated the space. Gregory looked around more easily and quickly noticed the empty side of his queen-sized bed. The undisturbed area where another person should have been forced Gregory to swallow a cry. He backed up and leaned against his headboard; Gregory pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face.
A muffled sniff sounded from him as a grief-filled whisper passed his lips. "Mia." He kept his face concealed, but a tear ran down his cheek.
He stayed like that a moment more when the earlier ringing sounded again. Confused, Gregory raised his bloodshot eyes and glanced over his shoulder. His phone was on his nightstand next to the lamp and clock that read 3:11 A.M. The screen lit up and showed an incoming call from Vanessa. Gregory stared at the device and then stretched out a hand. He hesitated before picking it up and answering the call.
Gregory held the phone to his ear. "Hello?" he whispered, voice trembling badly.
"Gregory? Gregory, is that you?" Vanessa's voice blared through the speakers with a frantic tone. "Is everything okay? Are you hurt? What's going on?!"
Gregory felt his already muddled head spin with the barrage of questions from his adoptive mother. "What?" he asked, more awake. "What are you talking about?"
"You didn't answer your phone. I was worried something bad happened because I couldn't see you!"
"See me?" he repeated, confusion evident. "Vanessa, what are you talking about?"
"The camera in Iza's room. She started crying, but I didn't see you for over ten minutes, then I heard the loud crash, it made her more scared. I tried calling right after that noise, but you didn't pick up your phone, and I was worried something terrible had happened! Is everything okay?!"
"Vanessa, please calm down," Gregory said, rubbing his left eye. Then quickly brushing his scar before continuing. "Everything's fine; I…I had another nightmare. I must've knocked something over when I woke up."
Vanessa went silent. "Did you have another panic attack?"
Gregory's eyes lowered. "Yes." He paused, wrapping a hand around his curled knees before speaking. "But everything is fine now. I performed the breathing exercises Dr. Talbert taught me." Gregory stopped and raised his head. "Wait, did you say Iza was crying?"
"Oh, uh, yes," Vanessa replied. "There was a crash that seemed to frighten her."
"A crash?" Gregory mouthed the words as he turned to the right. On the far side of the room, he saw that a shelf and several picture frames had been knocked to the floor and shattered on impact. Several shards of glass and a broken piece of wood surrounded the area while a busted but operational baby monitor played the harsh screams of the scared infant.
"Gregory? Gregory, are you there?" Vanessa asked, getting worried again. "What was that sound?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here." Gregory pulled the blanket off himself. "Uh, Vanessa, I'll call you back. I'm going to comfort Iza."
"Are you sure? Do you need me to come over?"
"No, I can take care of it." Gregory stood up, rebalancing his shaky form. "Besides, aren't you at the pizzaplex?"
"Yes, but I can leave. I know you've been through a lot in the past week, and I—"
"I'll be fine," Gregory said, cutting her off. "I'm still a father, after all. Right now, my daughter's needs come first."
Vanessa went silent again but sighed. "Alright, but call me if you need anything. I'm here for you."
Gregory smiled softly. "Thanks, Vanessa."
"No, problem," she chuckled. "We're family; it's what we're for. Me and the Glamrocks. We're here if you ever need help."
Gregory closed his eyes and breathed. "I know. Thank you for that." The crying reached his ears again. "I'll call you later."
"Alright, I love you."
Gregory's head raised, surprised. "I love you too…Mom." Then he quickly hung up the phone before she could reply. He dropped his hand, stared at the wall, and then pulled himself to his feet. He walked to the door and entered the hall. The sound of infantile wailing became louder with each quick step until it was practically at his ears.
Gregory stuck out a hand and opened the door, finally meeting the terrified shrieks of his baby. He rushed to the side of the room, where a small bassinet was pushed against the wall. A tiny infant, only five weeks old, scared and without a mother, lay inside, screaming her little lungs off as more tears ran down her red face.
Gregory's heart broke as he turned on a nearby light. "Iza," he whispered and leaned into the crib. Gregory hooked his fingers gingerly under her neck and butt before raising her up; he rested her head in the crook of his elbow and began to walk around the room.
Iza continued to cry the entire time, and her breath became irregular. Racked with guilt for scaring her, Gregory whispered quiet apologies as he tried to soothe her fear. Eventually, he went to a tiny music player and pressed play; a slowed-down music box version of the Toreador March began to play.
As the soothing notes played their way through the song, Iza's cries ultimately calmed, and once she was quiet enough, Gregory sat down in a nearby rocking chair. He slowly moved back and forth, and soon Iza was quietly resting in her father's arms, sleeping as if nothing occurred.
Gregory breathed out, relieved she finally settled. He opened his eyes and stared at his daughter. Although she was quiet again, the guilt continued. This had been the fifth time he had woken her up with panic attacks this week, but this was the worst yet. "This can't go on," he said to himself. "Before I had your mother, but now…" His sentence stopped when the image of his late wife entered his mind, a woman who had died only a week prior.
He curled his fingers protectively around Iza's sleeping form. "I'm your dad. I'm supposed to protect you, but I can't even seem to do that right." He gritted his teeth. "I'm like a kid; I need reassurance from other people to be okay, but what am I supposed to do?" Gregory leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "I've had these nightmares since I was thirteen, but they've only worsened. And now they're affecting you."
He gently hugged her. "I want them to stop, but they won't. It's hard to calm down, and the only ones who could give me quick comfort were your mother and—"
Immediately Gregory shot up, careful not to wake the infant, and turned his head. Against the far wall, he saw plushy versions of the Glamrocks, gifted to them when Iza was born. "My father." Gregory looked at the small clock on Iza's wall: 3:40 A.M. "Freddy would be done with his recharge cycle by now."
Gregory darted his eyes around as he thought. "I would get in so much trouble for doing this, but…" He glanced at his daughter, running a hand through her surprisingly thick black infant hair. "But for just one night, I need the comfort. I'll make it up to him later and explain myself to my boss, but right now, I need him. And hopefully, it will be better for you too."
The rest of the time was quiet as Gregory dressed and packed the car. Before buckling her car seat, he loaded a small overnight bag with things for Iza, including a portable crib. Next, Gregory grabbed his phone, access card, and fazwatch before starting the car and pulling out of the driveway.
Twenty minutes passed, and soon he pulled into the pizzaplex parking lot, empty apart from a few cars belonging to the overnight staff, Vanessa included. Gregory frowned when he saw her car. "She's going to kill me after this."
Gregory parked the car and turned off his headlights, careful not to be seen. He removed Iza's baby carrier from the vehicle and, dressed in dark colors, made his way to the employee entrance. He stared at the closed door, remembering what happened the last time he snuck into this place before swiping his card.
The lock opened with a beep, and Gregory walked inside. He made his way through the maintenance tunnels, carefully avoiding the areas with cameras until he found the entrance to Rockstar Row. Although tired and exhausted from lack of sleep and carrying the baby and her stuff, Gregory cracked open the door.
Once he was sure no security guards or STAFF bots were around, Gregory crept through the opening and across the floor. Although, along the way, he passed by the other Glamrocks' rooms, he saw Roxy, Chica, and Monty all doing their own thing without noticing him or probably thinking he was some passing mop bot and heeding him no mind.
Finally, he arrived at Freddy's room, the curtains were drawn, and it was quiet inside. He reached the door and held out a hand to knock. He hesitated before rapping softly on the metal.
At first, there was no response, but soon Gregory could hear muffled talking within that got louder as the person drew closer to the door. "Don't worry, Vanessa," Gregory heard from inside. "We'll keep an eye out for anything str—" At that moment, the door opened, and Gregory came face to face with the orange Glamrock. Again, there was silence before Freddy said. "Vanessa, I'll call you back." Then he hung up.
More silence ensued.
"Gregory?" Freddy asked, eventually breaking the quiet after a few moments. "What are you doing here?"
Gregory kept his eyes on the floor, his hair hiding his face from view. "Freddy," Gregory began. "I…" Gregory could feel tears start to slip down his face. "I…" His grip on the carrier tightened. "I need you. I need you so badly right now." His voice cracked on the last words.
By this point, Freddy already kneeled down and met Gregory's eye level. Despite the tangled mat that was Gregory's hair, he could see several tears drip from the man's chin.
Freddy's eyes softened, and he reached out a large hand, resting it on his son's shoulder. Then he stood up and gently took the baby bag from Gregory's hand before guiding the human in.
"Sit on the couch," Freddy said, locking the door behind them.
Gregory did as told and set Iza beside him, still sleeping peacefully in her carrier. Freddy walked to his maintenance area and returned with a large cup of water a few minutes later. He held out his hand. "Drink this."
Gregory said nothing and took the cup; he drank it quietly as Freddy dug through the baby supplies and found the portable crib. He carefully set up the bassinet, the same way Gregory had so meticulously taught him, and gently moved Iza to the bed without waking her. She was barely the size of his palm.
Once she was secure, Freddy finally turned his attention to her father and his son. He looked at Gregory, who had finished the water and sighed. "So what's going on?" he asked, his calm voice echoing through the room.
Gregory stayed quiet as Freddy moved around the table and sat beside him on the couch. "I—" he gulped, scratching his hand nervously. "I had another nightmare that ended with a panic attack. I punched the baby monitor, and it crashed against the wall. The sound woke Iza up and…I just don't know what to do anymore." Gregory buried his head in his hands. "I'm losing sleep, and this is the fifth time since the funeral that I've woken her up."
Gregory started to tear up as he continued to recount the story. "I keep seeing myself back here as a child with Vanny. I keep seeing him. Every night I feel like I'm dying. Like I'm being drowned over and over. I could handle this before she was born, but now I'm scared; I feel like a failure. I—"
Before Gregory could finish, he felt himself pulled into a hug. The sudden contact stunned him, but he returned the embrace quickly before the waterworks followed. For the next ten minutes, that was how they stayed; Gregory cried into Freddy's arms while the protective bear enveloped his adopted son in a hug.
Finally, Gregory pulled away and rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry for coming here so late. I just needed to be around someone. It's been hell since Mia died."
Freddy's ears dropped upon hearing that bit. "Don't apologize," he stated gently. "Don't ever apologize for grieving your wife or the trauma you suffered." Freddy used his blue claw to move the brown hair from Gregory's face, finally seeing his son's tired eyes. "While I might not be able to be around you twenty-four-seven, Gregory, don't ever think you aren't welcome here. My door is always open, and so are my ears; I'll listen to anything you need to talk about."
Gregory raised his head, met Freddy's blue optics, and lowered them again. "Thank you," he said, scratching his hand, then a thought crossed his mind. "Did I interrupt something before?"
Freddy wrapped his arm around Gregory's shoulders. "No," he replied. "It was just Vanessa. I'm assuming you used your card key to get in?"
Gregory nodded.
"Well, apparently, it was recorded, and the security staff thinks the system is malfunctioning because of it."
Gregory's eyes widened. "Oh man," he breathed. "I have so much explaining to do." He started to get up, but Freddy pulled him back down. Gregory looked up in surprise.
"I will tell them," Freddy said with a solemn expression. "For now, you sleep. You look like you haven't had a good rest in ages."
Gregory scanned Freddy's face but eventually gave in. He lay on the couch after Freddy got up and rested his head against a pillow. Then he looked at Freddy, who sat on the floor between him and Iza. "Sleep, Gregory. I will keep watch for tonight." Then wiped a tear from his son's face.
After he pulled back, Gregory gave a small chuckle and reached to touch Freddy's arm. The animatronic covered it with his other hand. The man smiled. "Thank you for everything." He felt his eyes begin to get heavy.
Freddy smiled. "It's no problem, Gregory. Now rest."
Gregory nodded and closed his eyes, never moving his hand. "I love you, Dad." And he was out completely.
The comment caught Freddy off guard, but it was quickly replaced with a warm feeling. "I love you too, Son." He smiled and turned away. He stared at the wall and was suddenly filled with rage at the pain Gregory felt. He wanted to find that glitch and stop him. The feeling quickly grew but stopped when Freddy thought he saw red glowing on his face. He shook his head. "That was weird." Then promptly brushed it aside.
Similarly, as Gregory closed his eyes, he heard Freddy's response and felt a sense of security he had not experienced in a week. His body relaxed as he cracked open an eye and gazed across the room.
Gregory saw a poster for the all too familiar Princess Quest video game on the far wall. A growl formed in his throat; he wanted to trap that monster and make him pay. Gregory felt his consciousness slipping away, but he muttered a final line just before he was out for good. "I will make you hurt for what you did to Mia and my family, even if it's the last thing I do." Then everything went black.
Everything hurt and stung; it felt like something had repeatedly torn her apart from the inside out. A deafening ring played in her ear, and blotches of color filled her vision. Where am I? Iza wondered as she felt the need to fall back asleep. Her strength waned, and the desire to give in was too tempting.
Iza allowed the darkness to reclaim her. However, just like before, something pulled her back. Except this time, it wasn't a sound, but rather two large hands shaking her aggressively as she opened her brown eyes in a panic.