Author's Note: This was going to be posted a few days earlier, but for some reason, it wouldn't let me upload the document for ages.

Michael snapped out of his dream with a startled shout. Immediately jolting into a seated position, he put a hand against his head as he slowly recovered his breaths which burst in and out of his body rapidly. Charlie startled beside him. Blinking repeatedly, she sat up.

"Babe?" she said, yawning. "Is something wrong?"

He cleared his throat. "Sorry. I'm alright, just..." A nightmare. Another one. Why did they always happen now? With a shake of his head, he tried to brush off the horrid encounter with the nightmarish animatronics. "Nothing, just had a bad dream."

"Aw." She pecked him on the cheek. "Not too bad, right?"

He sent her a tight smile. "Nah. Just a dream." It didn't entirely feel like that, though...

"Well," she said, with a faint chuckle, "that's what you get for randomly falling asleep, dummy."

"I seriously did that, didn't I?" he said.

"How early did you even drop off?"

"Not too early. Guess I was just exhausted."

Charlie tilted her head, arching an eyebrow. "Please tell me you slept at least once since the other night."

"Uh..." said Michael as he silently scrambled for an excuse.

She didn't even let him reply, giving his arm a gentle smack.

"I was worried about you, alright?" he said.

With a shake of her head, she merely smiled. "Alright, whatever." Their conversation ended there, for the door opened and Charlie's nurse entered. Michael immediately got off the bed and stepped aside, awkwardly muttering indiscernible words under his breath. While the nurse checked up on Charlie's head injury, Michael worriedly stood off to the side. She already appeared to be recovering a little, and the nurse started to leave with this good news.

Michael stopped her near the door, asking, "Do you know when she can go home?"

"I'd say most likely by tomorrow," the nurse replied. "We want to monitor her concussion and make sure no more issues arise. She's lucky that blow to the head didn't injure her worse than it did."

"Ah." He glanced down. "Alright, thank you." With a nod, the nurse left the room. He returned to the side of the bed, where he sat on the edge.

Charlie sent him a small smile. "Stop worrying, I'm alright."

"Worrying? I'm not," he said.

"Yes, you are." She shook her head at him, then winced as soon as she did, he guessed due to the pain. "I'm recovering, Mike. I'm fine."

"I know." He let out a breath. "Just can't believe I almost lost you."

Her eyes shifting downwards, she picked at a thread on her sheets. "It's a terrible feeling, isn't it? Thinking you've lost the love of your life."

He smiled, resting his hand on hers and stopping her nervous fidgeting. "We really need to do better at these life-threatening situations, huh?"

"Right," she said, giving a bitter laugh. "Maybe we do." Her brow creased, and she lifted her eyes back to him. "What even happened after I was knocked out?"

Michael tensed, and after taking a moment to think it over, began to explain. He made it vague, leaving out much of what William had said, and settled for going into more detail over his new suspicion. "The animatronics," he said, "Charlie, I think they're possessed."

"You do?" Charlie said, her brown eyes widening.

He nodded. "How else would you explain that? I've had a slight suspicion, especially about—" he stopped to shudder— "Fredbear, but I think it's all of them. The withered animatronics, anyway, and maybe the puppet. I don't know why it would be, but it entered the room when my father and I were speaking as well."

"Wow." She blinked a couple of times. "Have you told the others about this?"

"Yes, Henry included," said Michael. "They agree it seems possible."

She nodded, rubbing her head and biting down on her bottom lip. After a moment of thinking over everything he'd told her, she laid her hand down and let out a long sigh. "It would explain a lot, minus why exactly they wanted to kill us. If William really did murder those children, you truly think they're possessing them?"

"Yes."

"Which children exactly? Do you think..." Charlie trailed off, a pained look clashing on her face.

"Sammy?" he said.

She nodded, looking down again.

He winced and glanced away himself. "I don't know. But it might be more than his victims, it could...I heard...it..." He ran a hand down his face. "Evan, he—"

"I know, Mike." Charlie touched his arm.

He let out a long breath. "And Elizabeth—I heard her voice. She spoke, her voice came out of that...that monstrosity, Ennard, wherever it is. What are we supposed to do about all this?"

"I don't know," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "But at least we know now." Her grip on his arm tightened. "What do you think even happened to Ennard?"

"I genuinely don't know." Michael wrapped an arm around his torso, where the scar from the scooper remained. "I've tried not to think about it since that night."

"Another problem we probably should have dealt with, huh?"

"Maybe." He cleared his throat. "Think you'll be alright on your own?"

"Duh." She sent him a teasing smile. "Depends why you're leaving, though."

"I just want to call up Henry, see if we can do anything about the animatronics," Michael said. "Maybe we could investigate them before the pizzeria closes down."

"So it's permanently shutting down then?" said Charlie.

"Pretty sure." He stood. "I can ask your dad though. I'll be back later, alright?"

"Alright," she said. "Be careful. You're still injured, you know."

"I'll be fine." He headed for the door, but stopped as she said,

"Aren't you forgetting something?" When he turned, she sent him a smile and crossed her arms. With a chuckle, he stepped back over. Taking her chin, he tilted her head up and pressed a soft kiss against her lips.

"Love you," he said as they separated. "I'll hurry back." She nodded, then waved as he finally left the room. After making sure he was cleared to leave, he went outside and straight to a pay phone. Muttering angrily under his breath over the cost, he inserted the coins and dialed the proper number. He struggled a bit with his injured hand, but managed to do it as quickly as he could. After two rings, his call was picked up.

"Hello?" Henry's voice came over the line.

"Hey, it's Mike again," he said. "Listen, I just wanted to know if there's any way that we can examine the animatronics before the pizzeria closes. Maybe we can figure out how and why they're possessed."

"Ah, funny you should mention that," said Henry. "I was actually just about to do that exact thing."

"Great minds think alike." Michael leaned against the wall of the phonebooth. "Are you heading over now? I could join you."

"Yes," Henry replied, "they're already starting to close up, so I asked a friend to hold off transferring the animatronics for the time being. I may not have as much power over this company anymore, but I think this is enough to get some investigating in."

"Wait, transferring the animatronics?"

"Yes, I assume to storage."

"There's a storage unit?"

"It's not being used as far as I now, but yes."

"Hm." Michael fiddled with the cord of the phone, twining it around his fingers as he thought over the situation. "This is awfully quick. Do you think they actually ever thought the pizzeria would reopen?"

"I'm starting to believe the same thing," Henry said. "I think they're simply trying to cover up all the scandals and move on as swiftly as they can. It's just how the company does business, it's how William and I used to do it—" his tone dropped, becoming softer, guilty— "more-or-less, anyway."

"We better get a move on if they're closing down quickly." Michael straightened. "Would you mind picking me up? My car's in the shop."

"Sounds like a plan," Henry said. "I'll see you in a few, Mike."

"Alright." Michael hung up, then ran his hands down his face. "Argh, what are we going to do about all this?" With these words, he left the pay phone and sat on a bench near it, where he waited for Henry to arrive. Soon, the familiar car pulled up in front of him, and Michael climbed into the front seat.

"So," Henry said, easing the car out of the parking lot, "I'm not sure if I should mention this or not, but something odd happened shortly before you called."

"Really?" Michael sent him a sidelong glance. "What?"

Henry paused, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "Did you happen to keep—" he stopped to wince— "Evan's plush?"

Michael glanced away. "No. I saw it in the rental shop, though." His voice softened. "Why do you ask?" Henry didn't reply for a moment, turning onto another road. Michael sent him a probing look. "Uncle Henry?"

Henry untensed a little, a smile crossing his lips. "Huh, you haven't called me that in a while."

Michael didn't reply, looking away again.

"But as I was saying," said Henry, "I saw it in my living room. It was on the couch, just staring at me. When I turned away and looked back, it was gone. It had just vanished." He shook his head. "I don't know, maybe I'm just going crazy." He hit the blinker, then turned into a familiar parking lot. Michael hadn't realized how close to the location they'd already grown. He lifted his head and took in the pizzeria. It looked the same as always, except two signs hung on the front doors, labeling the building as closed. Through the windows, he could just barely see folded tables and a large box of some sort.

He cleared his throat and unbuckled his seatbelt once Henry stopped the car in a parking space. "That's weird, I...I don't know what to think of it," Mike said. "Let's just ignore that for now; we have things to do."

Henry said nothing for a moment, gazing at Michael with a concerned expression. Ignoring it, Michael flung open the car door and stepped out. Henry followed shortly, then together they entered the pizzeria. Inside, many of the decorations had been taken down, and all the tables were folded up and now leaned against a wall. To Michael's relief, he didn't see any employees roaming, though he wasn't exactly sure why.

"Probably done tearing down for the day," Henry said, as if he'd read Mike's thoughts. "It's already almost dinner."

"It's really that late?" Michael glanced at the nearby clock. Henry didn't get to respond, for another person entered the area, someone Michael didn't recognize.

"Nice to see you again, Henry," he said, coming to a halt in front of them. His eyes shifted over to Michael. "And who's this?"

"Ah yes, um..." Henry paused. "This is, uh..." He glanced at Michael, clearly at a loss whether to use his false name or not.

"Fritz," he said, holding a hand out to the stranger. "I work here...well, when it was still open."

"Oh, right." The man tilted his head and sent him a vaguely suspicious look. He took his hand and shook it anyway. "I'm Scott. Uh...did they ever tell you that you're fired?"

Michael tensed, unknowingly gripping the man's hand tighter. "I guess. Because it's closing, right?"

"Uh, well—" Scott pried his hand from his— "yes, but also uh, they caught you on the footage tampering with the animatronics. And you brought someone with you to your shift, which isn't exactly allowed here, so it's sort of required they fire you immediately."

"Crap," Michael said. "Yeah, sorry about that. I had no bad intentions, I swear."

"Well, if Henry trusts you, then I guess I believe you." Scott shrugged. "Oh! Uh, that reminds me." He rifled around the pocket of his jacket, then pulled out a pink slip of paper. "Here." He held it out to Mike. "You were supposed to receive this."

"What is it?" Michael took the paper and ran his gaze over it. "Ah, a pink slip firing me? Well, the place is closing, anyway."

"That's true," Scott said. "But even so, they said they wanted to fire you for tampering with the animatronics, bringing in a visitor during work hours, and odor."

"Odor?" Michael gripped the pink slip tighter. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"This place has many strange smells; they probably just randomly blamed you for it." Scott waved a hand. "They do that sometimes, when firing someone. Adding insult to injury. I, uh, personally don't agree with it, but hey, what are you gonna do?" He cleared his throat. "Anyways, Mr. Emily, I managed to convince them to hold off on transferring the animatronics to the storage unit for the time begin. Well, the toys and the old suits, anyway." He frowned deeply. "Unfortunately, I think they've already scrapped the old animatronics and are in the process of dumping them in the junk yard."

"What?" The word flew out of Michael, too fast for him to stop. "But we need those!"

Scott blinked. "You do?"

Henry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's complicated. Can you at least check, see if you can get as much of the animatronics back as you can?"

"I'll do what I can," Scott said. "It's nice having you back, been a while since I saw you around here." His attention shifted to Michael. "You, uh, look sort of familiar too." Michael opened his mouth to contradict him, but Scott cut him off, "It's probably nothing. I think I'd remember someone with such a strange eye. It's pretty cool."

"Oh." Michael nearly reached for his missing eye. He'd completely forgotten to put one of his patches over it. Not sure what else to do, he awkwardly said, "Thank you."

"Anyway, the animatronics are all boxed up." Scott gestured to several large boxes gathered near the stage. "I'll go call up someone and ask about the older models."

"Alright." Henry headed towards the boxed animatronics. "And where are the old suits?"

"Still in the backroom, as far as I know," said Scott.

Michael shuddered. "Okay, thank you." He followed Henry to the boxes and, working together, they managed to get one open. They were greeted by the sight of a deactivated Toy Chica, her beak half hanging off. With a shudder, Mike said, "So are we going to examine these animatronics as well?"

"It could be a good idea." Henry nodded. "Only Charlie has seen how messed up they are; I think we should too."

"Alright." Michael started off towards parts and service. "I'll go grab some tools. We should work quickly with the toys though; they were the only animatronics that didn't react to my father and I."

"Good idea," said Henry, his voice fading to Michael as he picked up his pace and left the room. Parts and service felt odd without the various slumped, withered animatronics. Ignoring a looming feeling of dread, he retrieved the proper tools and returned to Henry. They worked as quickly as they could, examining the innerworkings of each toy animatronic. Michael refused to so much as look at Mangle though; the incident with Jeremy was still fresh in his mind. Seeing it all night was bad enough.

Minutes passed, stretching into almost a full hour. Michael became lost in his work, fiddling with and examining every part of the animatronics' innerworkings that he could. Finally, he broke the concentrated silence between them. "It's exactly what Charlie said. Someone's definitely been tampering with them, especially their facial scanners."

"Mm." Henry gave a slow nod. "I don't see how it could cause them to act out like this, though."

Michael tapped his wrench against his fingers, ignoring the throb of his hand. His gaze flicked over every inch of Toy Bonnie. "I just don't know if they're possessed, they don't completely act like it. Or, perhaps they do, but I genuinely don't know." He thought over the terrifying night he and Charlie had experienced, pondering each action the toys had done during those horrid hours. "You know," he said, "there was something strange about the Mangle."

"And what's that?" Henry asked.

"Its eyes never looked like the others," Michael said. "Sometimes the toy animatronics' eyes were black and, well, sort of looked like mine. Not much, though." He gestured to where his right eye had once been. "Mangle never entered the office, but its eyes did look like this. However, only when Withered Foxy was in the hallway with it. If those animatronics truly are possessed, do you think they had some sort of influence on the toys? Maybe all their strange behavior is a combination of the spirits and whatever my father did while tampering with the toys?"

"It's an interesting theory," Henry said. His body grew tenser, and anger clouded over his features. "I just don't understand what William was trying to accomplish, tampering with them like that. It's as if he wanted this place to shut down." Michael blinked, and nearly commented on this, but Henry went on, "Anyways, did Balloon Boy or the Marionette show any signs?"

"Balloon Boy was just flat-out annoying so no," said Michael, "and as for the Puppet, um...it never showed up, because Charlie kept the music box wound up, but it did appear and help scare my father off."

Henry's brow creased. "I see..." He cleared his throat. "Well, we can check it out too, then. Let's get the toys back in repair and close up these boxes. We can go look at Fredbear and Spring Bonnie."

Michael resisted the urge to shudder again, nodding. "Alright."

"Unless you just want me to go and look."

"No, I think I should too."

"Alright."

They did just as they said, sealing the toys back up and packing them away. After they shut the boxes as tightly and neatly as they could, they walked in the direction of the backroom. Michael willed himself forward, each step practically like climbing a mountain. He still hated going back there.

"Alright then." Henry pushed open the door and stepped inside. "Let's see if Fredbear..." He trailed off, falling completely silent. Michael came in beside him. The moment he did, he froze up. The darkened room was empty of everything except Spring Bonnie, which sat slumped in the corner. The other suit was nowhere to be seen.

"Um," he said, his voice dropping, "where's Fredbear?"

"Must have vanished again." Henry rubbed at his beard. "This isn't good."

"That suit's got to be the most supernatural one here." Michael turned away. "It teleported; I swear it did. When Charlie and I were here, it came and vanished in an instant. Just constantly." He shook his head. "And...and something I never mentioned is, I swear, I saw it in the hallway as well. Only it was—" he paused— "this is going to sound stupid, but...a head? Maybe I was just hallucinating, but..." His words faded.

"I think we can pretty much confirm it and the old animatronics must be possessed." Henry sighed deeply. "Those poor children. How had I not seen this sooner?"

Michael lowered his head. "Maybe we've been looking at this the wrong way. We were so set on finding and taking down my father, I...I overlooked all the signs. We should find William still, but I think our main goal needs to change. The children—" he turned and looked Henry in the eye— "I don't know how we'll do it, but I think they need to be set free."

Henry nodded faintly, his eyes shifting between Michael and the floor. "I've been such a fool. I should have known from the beginning William was up to something; I should have known. All those missing children, the lengths he took to make sure nothing bad came out about the company, and—"

"Stop." Michael placed his hands firmly on Henry's shoulders. "It's not your fault. This is all my father, he's the one who killed those children and caused all this. Don't blame yourself for a moment." He drew his hands back to himself. "Got it?"

Henry only paused a moment, before giving a slight smile and nodding. "Alright. Now we let's go check out the Marionette and see if Scott's turned up anything."

"Right." Michael left the room, sending Spring Bonnie a final disgusted look before slamming the door behind him. Halfway back up the hall, the two almost ran straight into Scott who hurried down the corridor towards them.

"Ah, sorry." Scott backed up. "I was, uh, just coming to update you on the old models. I've been calling around for ages now, and unfortunately, I think it's too late." He sighed. "They were scrapped, don't even know where they dumped the remains. Sorry."

"I was afraid of that." Henry shook his head. "Thanks anyway, Scott. You've been helpful, but could you do one last favor?"

"Sure," Scott said. "What is it?"

"Don't tell anyone about this." Henry brushed past him.

Michael followed as Scott said, "Um...okay, I guess I won't. Why exactly are you doing all this though?"

Henry stopped by the entrance to the dining area and looked over his shoulder. "Just wanted to look over my animatronics a final time, check out the situation for myself. CEO business, that's all. I doubt they need to know."

"Ah." Scott nodded, giving a slightly forced smile. "That makes sense. Anyways, it was nice seeing you again. Let me know when you leave, so I can finish closing this place up for the night."

"Will do." Henry ducked out. Michael trailed behind him, all the way to the prize counter, where a box stood. Mike assumed it held the Marionette, and sure enough, when they opened it, the unsettling puppet stared at them from where it sat in its present box. They didn't spend nearly as much time examining it, for they found nothing out of the ordinary, minus when Henry first touched it and it spazzed out for a split second. Other than that, there was nothing.

After this, they stayed just a bit longer in search of Fredbear, but when they did not find it, they knew it was best to leave. Bidding farewell to Scott, they left the pizzeria and reentered the car where Henry said, "Well, we didn't exactly find anything new, but I think that was worth it."

"Yes, I just wish I knew what to do next." Michael stared out the window at the various buildings blurring past. "If the children's spirits are still out there, what can we do to help them?"

"I'm not sure, Mike." Henry breathed a sigh. "But if I know my own company, they're not going to stop. I think they're already planning a new location with different animatronics."

"Fantastic." Michael groaned in annoyance.

"It could be a good thing, though," Henry said. "Another chance to lure William, and perhaps see if the children return."

"True." Michael nodded slowly. "When do you think this will happen?"

"Could be years."

"Oh."

"But I think you and Charlie deserve time to rest."

"Charlie said the same thing. But what about...my father?"

Henry's lips tightened, as did his grip on the wheel. "I'll keep an eye out for him, but as long as he doesn't appear to be going after more children, we should wait it out. As much as I hate to say it, I think he's gotten away again."

"Yeah." Michael pressed his forehead against the cool glass. "I think you're right. Can you take me back to the hospital? I promised Charlie I'd come back as soon as I could."

"I was planning on it," Henry said. "I wanted to visit her too."

"Mm." Michael hummed. "Still can't believe what happened."

Henry paused a moment. When he spoke, his voice was much softer. "Me neither."

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence. When they arrived at the hospital, they were allowed to visit Charlie, and headed to her room immediately. She beamed at both of them the moment they entered.

"Thank goodness you're alright." Henry bent over and hugged her.

She hugged him back. "Yes, I'm alright. The doctor says I'm already recovering a little, I'll probably be out of here by tomorrow."

"That's a relief." Henry drew away and sat in a chair beside the bed.

Michael did the same, sending Charlie a smile.

She smiled back. "So," she said, "did you find anything out?"

"Not anything new, really," Michael said, "but we do have a slight idea of how things will turn out, and what we're going do. Not exactly, of course, but it's better than nothing."

Her expression brightened even more. "Great. Tell me all about it."

~One week later~

"This is the blandest food I've ever tasted." Carlton set down his sandwich with a grimace.

"I told you it was," Jessica said. "Not sure why you chose it anyway."

"Because I don't listen to you," he said, some laughter entering his voice.

She shook her head. "Anyways, why exactly did you ask to meet us here, Mike?"

"Just to thank you," Michael said. "Charlie and I really appreciate it. You didn't have to help us out at that job, but you did, and I don't know, I'm just really thankful."

"Oh, it was nothing." Marla waved a hand. "And you didn't have to take us to a restaurant just to thank us."

"Eh." Michael shrugged. "I also didn't just have to call you to thank you."

"I think it's a nice gesture," Jessica said, stirring her straw in her drink. "So what's next for you and Charlie?"

"Well..." Michael gazed out the window of the diner, the very place Charlie worked before they got their job at the rental service. "The pizzeria's closed, and we don't really have a way to find my father. For now, I guess it's just back to normal life, until we get a shot at finding him or helping those spirits."

"That makes sense," John said with a nod. "Let us know if anything comes up. I can't exactly speak for the others, but if something like this happens again, I'd like to do something." The others expressed their agreement.

"It's terrible what happened back then." Marla glanced down. "I had no idea."

"Neither did I," Michael said, holding back a sigh, "and I want to do everything I can to fix it." He cleared his throat. "Anyways, what are you guys doing next?"

"College," replied John. "I'll be leaving town soon, and I think Marla's doing the same."

"Yep." She nodded.

"I have a business out of town," Jessica said, "but I'll stop by from time-to-time, like the others I'm guessing will too."

"I'm just sticking around here." Carlton jerked his shoulders into a shrug. He straightened a bit in his seat. "Hey! I've got a good idea." Excitement took over his face. "What if tonight we all go to that bowling alley where we first met Mike? It could be in celebration of surviving our idiotic jobs at the pizzeria."

"Only your job was idiotic, Mr. Janitor," John said with a laugh, "but that sounds like a good idea."

"Mike was rude and left early last time." Jessica crossed her arms and sent him an obviously faked angry look.

"Yeah, sorry about that." Michael chuckled and shook his head. "I was even less social then, nor in that good of a mental state. I'm still working on it, but I guess..." He fell silent, his gaze flicking over each person that sat at the table with him. They looked at him quizzically, clearly waiting for him to finish his sentence. He didn't, lost in his thoughts—lost in the realization...that he had friends. He knew he did, had known Charlie's friends started growing close to him as well, and yet, now the realization was striking him full force. He'd been alone for so long, hadn't had any real friends in years. After meeting Charlie, it had only been her, he was still alone; had no one he could depend on and confide in but her, and perhaps Henry. But now they were here. They flat-out said they would help, when they didn't have to. They literally had. And that was something Michael wasn't used to, something that gave him a sudden hope and happiness he hadn't felt in ages.

"Mike?" John said.

"You good?" asked Carlton.

Michael smiled, nodding. "Yes. I'm fine, just enjoying this—being here, with actual friends." The others looked a bit confused by his words, but shrugged it off and continued the conversation. Once everyone finished eating, they said their goodbyes, agreeing to meet back up the bowling alley later, along with hopefully Charlie. Afterwards, Michael lingered by his car, fiddling with his keys and smiling faintly. His father was still out there, the terrible man that embittered Mike with even a simple thought of him, and Michael had no idea what would happen to the souls of the children, possibly of his siblings as well. That angered and saddened him, but at the same time, it gave him a flood of determination. He knew they could fix this, somehow. But in the meantime, he could finally let himself relax a little, simply enjoy his time with new friends and a girlfriend he was more grateful for than he could ever express.

As if on a cue, a sudden voice called out across the parking lot, "Mike!" His smile fading, Michael lifted his head and turned in the direction of the shout. Charlie wound around the parked cars and dashed towards him.

"Charlie?" he said as she came to a halt in front of him. "What are you doing here? I thought you had a splitting migraine and decided not to come."

"I did, but then I started to feel better, so I came," she said between breaths, winded from running. "Looks like I'm a little late."

"Yeah, just a little." Michael chuckled. "But don't worry, we all made plans to go to that bowling alley tonight."

"Really?" She grinned. "That's good, you can show off your terrible skills at it then."

"You are never going to let that go, are you?" he said, shaking his head at her.

"Nope, never." She stuck her tongue out at him. He gave a small laugh, glancing down and taking one of her hands. She held it back as he brushed his thumb against her fingers and sighed. "Something on your mind?" she said.

"Hmm?" He looked back up. "Oh, just thinking. Feels like only yesterday, I was on my own...but then I met you again, we got that stupid job, and now look at us."

Charlie tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I just never expected to have a life even close to happy," he said, "and there are still a lot of problems." He gripped her hand tighter, his jaw clenching and familiar anger brewing in his stomach. "Like my father, just...just things we have to deal with. But..." His grasp loosened, and he smiled at her. "But I think life is better than it's been in a long time. I'm looking forward to whatever comes next."

She smiled back. "Me too." She gave a little laugh, glancing down then back up. "You know, I never would've imagined that we...that we would..." She fell silent, laughing again.

"We would what?" Michael's smile grew amused.

"Oh, come on," she said, nudging him with her free hand. "Did you ever expect to date your best friend? Especially after only a month since re-meeting?"

"No, I guess not." He gave a short chuckle. "But truth be told, I, uh...developed a slight crush on you a few years before that point, anyway."

"Aww," she said. "Little Mikey crushing on his bestie."

He glared, his face warming up. "Oh, shut up, cheerios. Can you really say you're any different?"

"No, I guess not." She giggled and took his other hand. "All teasing aside, I like where we are right now. It feels right; I didn't even think for a moment it was strange, or that we'd ruin our friendship. I love you." She smiled up at him, a warm look shining in her dark eyes as she held his hands tighter. "I don't know what's going to happen next; if we'll catch your father, set the children free, or discover any other mysteries, but no matter what does happen, I'll be with you every step of the way."

Smiling back just as warmly, he released her hands and put his arms around her waist. As her arms wrapped around the back of his neck and they moved nearer to each other for a kiss, he whispered, "And I'll be with you."

Author's Note: Michael and Charlie are so adorable, aaahhh!

And so ends the fnaf 2 arc. Just one more little bonus before the end of the fic. Thank you so much for reading this far!