Michael emerged from his car, adjusting the patch over his missing eye. Sighing, he leaned against his vehicle and crossed his arms. The pizzeria was still closed, and he knew for a fact Jeremy was still working his shift. Soon, though, it would be over. It ended at 6 a.m. Currently, the time was 5:50 a.m. It had taken every ounce of Michael's willpower to wake up at the ungodly hour of about 5:20, get ready, and drive to this location. Now wasn't the time to be in a rotten mood, but being more of a night owl, he felt on the verge of bursting with simmering frustration.

Shortly, another car pulled in and stopped in a space near his. As he expected, it was John. He exited the car and strolled over to Michael, promptly showing him a ring of keys.

"I can let us into the building," John said. "Jeremy is only a few minutes away from the end of his shift, I imagine he's just wrapping up right now. We can head on in."

"Right." Michael drew away from his car. "Hopefully this meeting doesn't go long, I want to get back home and crash."

"Not a morning person I take it?" John strolled towards the entrance.

Michael gave a short, sarcastic laugh. "Not at all."

"Mm." John searched through the keys as they reached the entrance. "At least you have a night shift, then. Sorry ahead of time if I can't get you the job sooner." He jammed the proper key into the lock and turned. "Hey, but you never know. Maybe Jeremy would like to switch to the dayshift or something."

"Not a bad idea," Michael said. They opened the glass doors and stepped in. Michael couldn't help but shudder, upon seeing the usual cheery atmosphere completely shrouded in darkness. His eyes shifted to the nearest clock as he entered the dining area. 5:58. "Think Jeremy's seen us on the cams?" he asked, his gaze slowly drifting from the clock to the main stage. "Actually, hold that thought. Where are the toy animatronics?"

"Huh?" John turned towards the stage. "Oh, um, I think they roam at night."

"Perfect." Michael rolled his eye. "Hopefully they act nothing like the animatronics at Circus Baby's Entertainment and Rental. I'm afraid they might though, especially with someone tamperi—" He broke off when he turned back to John. Something crept up from the darkness behind him, the tall silhouette of an animatronic. "Um," Michael said, "John, you might want to—" the animatronic lunged forward— "get down!" Michael also leapt forward, ramming into John and sending both men sprawling onto the floor. Toy Chica just barely missed John, staggering forward. The moment she stopped, she spun around to them. Michael shot to his feet and glared savagely at her, trying to hide the fear he actually felt. Toy Chica looked practically nothing like the usual cheery animatronic she was during the day. She had no beak, revealing a wide grin of endo teeth. Her eyes were gone, replaced with black holes, in which hovered tiny pinpricks of white light, almost exactly like Michael's missing right eye.

"What the—" John scrambled to his feet beside Mike. "That's definitely not normal."

"Way to state the obvious." Michael edged away from Chica, who turned in the other direction.

John walked with him, shoving the keys back into his jacket pocket. "Guess your theory of them being violent was correct, huh?"

"No kidding." Michael sighed and stopped near the entrance to one of the halls. "I knew something was up."

"So you think that animatronic was actually going to...kill me?" A look of caution and alarm passed over John's face.

"Not sure." Michael eyed Toy Chica as she made her way onto the stage, joining Toy Freddy and Toy Bonnie who also arrived. She looked completely normal now, as did the other two. The two men said nothing, staring at the trio for a solid minute in pure silence. The odd and frightening experience left them both uneasy, even more than they already were in the darkness of the dining area.

"Well," John said, "we should go make sure Jeremy's alright. If Toy Chica was violent to us, then she definitely was to—"

"Hey!" A voice boomed out, startling both him and Michael. "Who's there?"

"Uh—" Michael spun around, coming nearly face-to-face with Jeremy.

"Oh." The nightguard relaxed as Michael backed up. "Fritz. I thought you were an intruder or something." He cleared his throat, fiddling with his flashlight. Even with just a glance, Michael could tell the man was nervous. He trembled slightly as his eyes darted around, particularly towards the main stage. "Oh, and John," Jeremy said. "What're you two doing here?"

"I'll answer in just a second, first I think we should get some lights on in here." John hurried towards one of the many light switches. As soon as he flicked them on, the eerie atmosphere eased a tad. The dining room now looked brighter and more welcoming, like it usually did during business hours. Michael was not comforted in the least; he never particularly liked this place anyway.

"He's not coming to take my job, right?" Jeremy gestured to Michael. "Because I can keep going, if you need me to."

"Actually, we came here so you could describe what the nights are like to him." John strolled back over, sending Jeremy a friendly smile. "Since he's your understudy and all, I think it's a good idea. He should know exactly what he's in for whenever the time comes."

"Oh, um, of course." Jeremy nodded slowly, his gaze once again flitting to the stage. "But whenever he does take the job, won't that same guy who's been instructing me tell him what to expect?"

"Sure." Michael shrugged. "But I'd like an explanation from someone who has actual experience working the shift. It was John's idea, actually."

"Ah," Jeremy said. His focus no longer lingered on Michael nor John. To Mike's suspicion, his eyes were fixed on a hall behind them, the very corridor that led to the backroom. Where Fredbear and Spring Bonnie were kept...

"Jeremy?" John said. "Everything alright?"

"Hm?" Jeremy snapped out of his reverie. "Oh, yes, of course. Just thought I saw something move back there." He pointed at the hallway, making Michael shiver with fear.

"I'm sure it was nothing," he said, rubbing his arms.

Faint concern passed over John's face, as he clearly took notice in both Jeremy and Michael's fearful postures. "I guess I could go check it out," John said. "You two talk. Jeremy, remember to let him know what he can expect during his shifts."

"You got it." Jeremy sent him a thumbs up. John nodded, cautiously approaching the hall.

Michael watched him go, then turned his attention back to the nightguard. "Okay, cut the act. I know something's going on during the night. Those animatronics attack you, don't they? I know a thing or two about night shifts in places like this, nearly died myself back at my last job, so you can tell me. I'll believe you."

Jeremy frowned, doubt evident upon his face.

Michael waited for him to respond, but when he did not, he said, "Toy Chica attacked John on our way in, the animatronics have been supposedly tampered with, and you've acted strange about them since I first met you. That can't be a coincidence, hm? Something's going on, they're violent. Now be honest with me. Do they attack you?"

Jeremy didn't even wait a moment to respond. "Yes. Well, kinda." He sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I haven't actually been attacked, but they come to my office, and they seem to be aggressive. Every night, things get a bit worse. It's starting to drive me crazy." He laughed anxiously. "But I can take it. I need the money, and who knows, maybe I'll get a promotion or something. That'd be pretty nice."

"Ah," Michael said, a frown crossing his face. "Listen, Jeremy, you seem like a nice enough guy. If the only reason you're working here is because you need money, it's not worth risking your life. I, on the other hand..." He trailed off, shutting his mouth. He knew he couldn't reveal his true intentions to Jeremy. For all he knew, Jeremy could report him or reveal Michael's identity somehow. While that wouldn't be all that disastrous, it could very well chase away William. Or bring him back, who knew? But it was a risk that Michael did not want to take.

Jeremy tilted his head. "If I didn't know any better, I would've said you're trying to convince me to give you my job."

"Um..." Michael shifted his weight. "No, of course not. If you want it, I won't take it from you. Could you just let me know what the shifts are like?"

"Dangerous," Jeremy said. "I would suggest not taking over my job, if you ever have to. You seem to have a good life, okay? I don't know you at all, but I just want to warn you to be careful. I had no idea what I was getting myself into." He shuddered. "Tonight was my fifth night. Things were worse than usual; things always get worse."

"Tell me how," Michael said. "What do they do?"

"It's not just the toys, it's the withered ones," said Jeremy. "The broken ones in the back."

"Hmm. And what do they do?"

"Come to the office, like the others. Toy Bonnie and Toy Chica enter through the vents, but the Freddy head stops them, and it isn't too bad."

"Freddy head?"

"An old Freddy head, or mask...whatever. I have to wear it; it tricks their facial scanners or something and they leave me alone. Works on the Mangle, too. And that dumb Balloon Boy."

"Hmm. And the broken ones?"

"They're worse. They jump out of nowhere, when I pull down the cameras. I barely stop them with that mask."

"How violent are they?"

"Incredibly violent. And then there's that creepy puppet thing..."

"Does it attack?"

"It hasn't so far. I keep it at bay with a music box, which I frequently have to wind up using the monitors. Confusing, I know."

"Hm."

"Oh, and the mask doesn't work on Foxy. I have to flash my flashlight at him. It glitches him; makes him go away."

"Huh. How do you know they want to kill you?" Michael asked.

Jeremy's expression neared annoyance, for the first time since Mike met him. "I can just tell, alright? When horrifying animatronics literally enter with the lights flickering and horrifying expressions, I think it's pretty obvious." The look faded, and his cautious expression returned. "I got this job for the pay, and I thought it sounded easy enough. Watch animatronics, make sure a place for children is safe. It seemed simple and fun. But..." He shook his head. "Just be wary, whenever you get the job. I'm not planning on quitting anytime soon. I'm not a quitter, it just gets a little overwhelming."

"I see," Michael said. "No offense, but the pay can't be that good, right? Why are you staying?"

"Well, I..." Jeremy trailed off. "Um, John's trying to get your attention."

"Huh?" Michael whirled around to the distant hall.

John indeed stood there, motioning to him urgently.

Frowning, Michael went over. "I was just getting some good information from Jeremy. What could you possibly want?"

"I think something might be wrong," John replied, keeping his voice low. "Come see this." He gestured to him, entering the corridor. After motioning to Jeremy that he would be back, Michael followed John down the hall and to the backroom. He resisted the urge to immediately leave as he and John entered. Just like before, Fredbear sat slumped in the corner. But Spring Bonnie? The suit was gone.

"Wasn't Spring Bonnie here before?" John asked.

"Yes," Michael replied, his eyebrows knitting together. "That's strange. I mean, Henry said Fredbear disappeared from this room a lot, but not Spring Bonnie. Never heard anything supernatural or strange about it before."

"Is it just me, or are things getting freakier by the minute?" John scratched his head in confusion. "We should definitely report this."

"Mm." Michael turned away, letting out a breath. "It's certainly odd." He shivered once again, crossing his arms at a faint chill in the air. "You feel that?"

He meant to add onto the statement, but fell silent as a soft, childish voice echoed from the corner. "It's happening again. Stop him."

"What the—" Michael spun around to Fredbear. Not a thing about the suit had changed, and he heard no more of the voice. He ruffled his brown hair, shaking his head bewilderedly. "I swear, that voice came from Fredbear. Did you hear it too? Or...or am I just insane?"

John looked him in the eye, and without missing a beat, said, "What voice?"

"Y-you...you didn't hear it?" Michael fell back a step. He swallowed hard, giving a forced laugh. "Oh. Guess I imagined it, then."

John winced. "Maybe you didn't get enough sleep, I think you should go back home."

Michael tensed, fighting back the urge to glare. "But I'm getting information from Jeremy."

"After that, then."

"Eh, fine. Now let's get out of this room, I hate it."

"Right behind you."

The two exited, returning to the main area where Jeremy now stood beside the doors.

"Oh, there you guys are," he said as they stopped in front of him. "I think I'm going to head out now, if you don't mind. Remember what I said, Fritz. Okay?"

Michael paused, debating whether or not to ask any more questions. Ultimately deciding he had enough, he nodded. "Okay. See you, Jeremy."

"See you." Jeremy waved and ducked out, leaving Michael and John standing in front of the glass doors.

"Looks like the other employees are starting to arrive," John said. "I'm working today, so I'll be staying here."

"You're going to tell someone about the Spring Bonnie suit, right?" Michael asked.

"Of course."

"Alright. Just be careful of the animatronics."

"Mhm." John sent the stage a wary glance. "After that incident with Toy Chica, I think I'll try to steer clear of them as much as I can."

"Right. Welp—" Michael opened one of the doors— "I'm heading out then."

John's usual pleasant expression faltered. "Alright." Michael nodded, then breezed out. He halted halfway through the parking lot when John called out to him, "Wait, Mike!"

"Ugh." Michael turned to face him as the man rushed over. "What is it now?"

"I just wanted to clear something up really fast," John said. "I'm a little confused about you, specifically how you act towards me. You seem to like me well enough, but then other times you just act...rude, and strange. Just wanted to make sure everything's okay between us." He gave a short laugh. "It probably seems stupid, but it's bothered me a little."

"I'm rude sometimes," Michael said. "I don't always mean to be, but it happens. Still getting used to having—" He didn't finish his sentence, ending before the final word. Friends. He scowled at the blacktop as memories of his last group of friends crept in, and...a certain incident.

"You sure that's it?"

"Hmm."

"That isn't an ans—"

"That's it." Michael lifted his head. "Sorry if I ever came off like I didn't like you, because that isn't true. And if I'm being completely honest with you, occasionally I acted just a little hostile because you seem to have a thing for Charlie. I don't care if you do, it's obvious how easily someone could possibly fall for her. I should know, since I'm literally dating her. Putting that aside, I know nothing would happen between you two, because I know and trust both of you, and Charlie and I love each other. So, obviously, I have nothing to worry about." He tipped his chin up, a hint of a glare marring his features. "Right?"

"Oh, so that's what this is about," John said, briefly looking down. "Of course, you have nothing to worry about, Mike. Charlie and I are only friends, we always have been. I'd be lying if I said I didn't at some time or other have feelings for her, but I didn't act on them, and she didn't once even act like she noticed." He smiled faintly. "Besides, Charlie truly seems happy with you, which makes me happy. I think you're a sweet couple, and I know you'll treat her right." He shrugged. "Let's just not let it make things weird. So, uh, friends?" He held out a hand.

Michael relaxed, glancing down at John's outstretched hand. With a smile, he pushed the offered hand away. "We're already friends, John. I'll see you later." With these words, he walked off, leaving John standing there looking pleasantly surprised and relieved. The two waved at each other, then Michael slid into his car and drove back in the direction of his house. He frowned and adjusted his hold on the steering wheel. Despite the nice interaction before his departure, he was left with uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. Not only had it been revealed that the animatronics were, in fact, violent and obviously meant Jeremy harm, but the Spring Bonnie suit vanished. And that voice he heard come from Fredbear, well, he'd heard it before. Within his head, in fact. The eerie voice of an unknown child...

Michael attempted to shake these thoughts off, but as the day progressed, they continued to hanker him. Eventually, he realized he needed a break from the stress, and so, he called up Charlie. She answered almost immediately, her familiar voice already making him relax a little.

"Hello?" she said.

"Hey." Michael smiled. "It's me. How are you doing? Migraine any better?"

"Surprisingly, yes," she replied. "Just a dull throb now and then. I went back to work today, and, uh...things are a little crazy. There's something going around about a Spring Bonnie suit, and I saw a lot of people panicking, but nobody told me what about."

"Hmm," Michael said, his heart sinking. He called her to get away from those horrid thoughts. "Yes, um, did John tell you about our discovery?"

"He did, and that Jeremy told you some things. So the animatronics really are dangerous?"

"They are. Jeremy even told me some actions they do at night, and how to keep them off."

"Huh. That'll be handy later."

"Yes. I'm worried though...about a lot of things."

"Me too."

"Sometimes I wonder how this will all turn out," Michael said, "and if all of this work and wondering is for nothing. What if my father never returns?"

"He will," said Charlie, her voice growing tighter, "and then we'll stop him."

He nodded firmly. "Of course. But let's stop talking about that for now, save it for work or when we're discussing it with the others. Let's talk about us."

She giggled. "Us? What about us?"

"Hmm." He fiddled with the cord of his phone. "You know, they opened a new restaurant on the other side of town. It sounds quite good, if you want to go."

"Ooo, is it that Italian restaurant?"

"It is."

"Great! I love pasta."

"Heh." He smiled. "Are you going to get the sauce all over your face again?"

She gave an overexaggerated gasp. "I did no such thing, Eggs Benedict!"

He chuckled. "Whatever you say." He glanced at the clock in his living room. "It's already almost six. Can I come pick you up?"

"Sure, as long as you don't get pulled over for speeding," she replied. "We could always just meet there, too, but...alright, you can pick me up."

"I'll make sure to get a million tickets when I drive you there," he said. "See you in a few, babe."

"Alright!" She hung up. He did the same. After changing his clothes to something only slightly more formal, he dashed back out to his car. Already, he could feel his stress lifting as he drove to Charlie's apartment building. She waited for him outside, and the moment she saw his car, darted over. She tried the door, but after discovering it was locked, tapped on the window. He almost reached to unlock it but stopped himself and proceeded to pretend the button to unlock the doors wasn't working. She tried again, only to receive the same response, Michael faking the apparent break of the locks. Charlie continued to tap on the window and send him annoyed looks, clearly not buying the act.

When he finally unlocked the door and let her in, she playfully smacked him on the arm. "Not funny."

"Really? I thought it was hilarious." He pulled out of the lot while she buckled. They chatted all the way to the restaurant, and as usual, had a relaxed and enjoyable meal. Up until the end, that is, when Michael's stomach started acting up. That often happened, considering he didn't have much of one left.

"I told you that you shouldn't have eaten that entire meal," she said, gazing at him concernedly from across the table. "You're supposed to take small portions."

"Yeah, yeah," Michael said through gritted teeth. He kept an arm wrapped around his torso, in a futile attempt to cover his stomach, as if that would do anything. "I'll be fine in a minute, just—" He stopped talking, for his throat tightened. He clamped his mouth shut and started taking deep breaths through his nose. Throwing up on a date? That was something he certainly didn't want to do.

Charlie frowned deeply. "I'm done, anyway. I can just ask for the check."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, barely getting the word out before he shut his mouth tightly once again.

"Pfft." Her frown turned to a soft smile. "It's not your fault, Mike. That dumb spaghetti's to blame."

"Are you referring to the spaghetti I ate or Ennard?" he said, untensing as his stomach grew less sick.

Charlie chuckled and took the bill from a waiter. "Funny thing to compare it to. Should we split the bill?"

"Sure," he said. "I'm starting to grow broke again."

"Once you officially get your job, that shouldn't be a problem," said she.

"Hopefully." He winced. "Fazbear Entertainment isn't the most generous with their salaries anymore." She gave a short, sarcastic laugh and nodded.

The two paid, then left the restaurant, though by now Michael already felt considerably better. Charlie thought it a good idea for him to walk it off, so they drove to a nearby park with a pretty walking trail and took a stroll. It was a beautiful time, really. Michael and Charlie walked side-by-side, holding each other's hands while they strolled through the trees, in the midst of a quant park which gradually grew darker as the sun set. They went on in silence for a while, simply drinking in the atmosphere and each other's company, exchanging occasional smiles. All-in-all, after all the stress of scrambling to get jobs at the pizzeria and the ever-present need to find William, it was just the occasion they needed.

"This was a good idea," Michael said. "It's quite nice here."

Charlie nodded. "My dad used to bring me here all the time, I loved it."

"Didn't we come here once?"

"Yep. It was that time you accidentally tripped and fell in the pond."

"Oh, I forgot about that."

"You were wet for hours."

"Yup. Not fun."

"I thought it was." She laughed and poked him in the arm. "Clumsy dummy."

Michael scoffed. "I am not clumsy!" As he said this, he tripped over a rut in the path, nearly falling and pulling Charlie down. "Ah." He stopped in his tracks and facepalmed. "That was horrible timing."

She laughed harder, pointing at him.

"Stop it." He sent her a look, feigning anger. "It's not funny." She shook her head, still laughing. "No, seriously, Charlie." He snickered. "It's not that funny, why are you still laughing?"

"I...I don't know," she said, breathlessly speaking between laughs. "I just...just can't stop." Sending her an amused smile, he pulled her into a hug. She buried her face in his shoulder and continued to laugh hysterically, her guffaws now muffled.

"You know, cheerios, you're ridiculous sometimes," he said.

"So are you," she said, having mostly recovered from her laugh attack. She looked up at him, laughter still sparkling in her eyes. "By the way, are you feeling any better?"

"Mhm, mostly." He drew away and strolled to a bench beside the path. He settled on it, Charlie sitting beside him. "And your migraine hasn't been acting up?"

"Oh...no." Her pleasant expression faltered, and she looked away. A short silence followed as she continued to stare at the ground. All evidence of happiness and laughter in her face had vanished, replaced with an expression Michael couldn't quite interpret.

"Hey." He took her chin and turned her face to him. "Is everything alright?"

She blinked, then sighed and brushed his hand away. "Everything's fine, but I should really tell you something, um—" she lowered her head more— "I think my migraines come from the fact that I'm starting to remember...that night."

Michael stiffened. "Oh."

He wrapped his arms around her as she cuddled close to him and spoke, "I don't remember everything, but ever since your father told me about that night and then I got this job, I've just been slowly remembering everything. Part of me wants to, but another part of me knows what happens and...and doesn't want to remember. Every time I start to, I just feel horrible."

"Traumatic memories are hard," he said, rubbing her back and hugging her tighter. "I know that better than anyone. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I don't know," she replied. "Guess I just assumed you thought I'd already remembered it all. I hope I don't see Sammy d-die, I...I can't—"

"Shh." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "It's alright. If you ever need help or someone to comfort you, just come to me. I don't want to see you looking all gloomy, that's my job."

She nodded. "Yeah, I know." She still didn't look completely comforted.

Michael drew away a little, once again turning his face to him. "It'll be alright, love. My father won't get away with what he did to you and Sammy."

She smiled faintly. "I know."

He leaned closer, whispering, "I love you."

"I love you too." She kissed him.

Author's Note: Just a little setup and fluff before the peril and angst starts. I mean what? Nothing bad is going to happen...totally...