Summary: Gregory and Michael have an interesting time on a fun, random holiday. May the Fourth, to be exact. However, one thing Gregory did not expect was to accidentally make a possible friend.

Author's Note: This was not one of the stories I had planned at the time, but around the time it was first written I remembered that May the Fourth/Star Wars Day was coming up and just had to write something. So now you have a short, sweet story about Michael and Gregory, centered around May the Fourth. You can still read it if you're not a Star Wars fan, especially since I tried to make it have just a bit more of a purpose than only celebrating the holiday. It's mostly a random, fun one-shot I wrote, because I could. FNAF and Star Wars are two of my biggest fandoms, and I couldn't just waste this opportunity. Plus, it's the origin of the most popular joke in the series for some reason.

Anyways, happy Star Wars Day! (Even though it's not that day anymore lol.) May the Fourth be with you and enjoy!

Gregory stuck out his tongue in concentration, drawing carefully on the tablet of paper in his lap. The chair he'd dragged into his bedroom didn't feel particularly comfortable, but he ignored it, shifting his position to ease the ache in his back while he retraced the lines of his sketch. He never had been all that talented when it came to drawing, being a child and all; just a bit more talented than average kids his age. This wasn't one of his normal drawings, though. He wanted to make it as detailed as possible.

He took a moment to sit back and examine his work. A sigh of dismay escaped him. Of course, it looked sloppy. Even borrowing Michael's special drawing pencils didn't seem to work.

"How does he do it?" Gregory whispered under his breath. "Mine always look like dumb kid drawings. Ugh." He rested his chin on his wrist, flicking his eyes over the sketch. A knock at the door drew his attention away from it.

"Hey, kiddo." Michael poked his head in. "Feeling up to breakfast today?"

Gregory frowned. Even now, he still wasn't all that used to getting three meals per day. "Um," he said, "shouldn't we, like, save the food a little? Since we're kinda tight on money."

Michael blinked at him, opening the door the rest of the way. "You don't have to worry about that, we have plenty of food right now."

Gregory fidgeted with the corner of the paper. "Right. I, uh, I don't need breakfast. I'm good."

Michael's lips pressed into a firm line. "You sure? It's really no big deal."

Gregory's head dropped. "Fine," he said, "I guess some waffles sound nice."

"Fantastic," Mike said, sending him a faint grin, "I'll get them ready in just a minute." Entering the room, he treaded over to Gregory's side. "So what have you been up to?"

"Nothing." Gregory hastily flipped over the notebook.

Mike stooped at his side and sent him a coy smile. "Nothing, hm? Then what are you hiding?"

Gregory glanced down, huffing. "I was just drawing something, okay? I'm not very good at it."

"Hmm." Michael leaned against the chair. "I've seen your drawings before. They're not bad for your age."

"Oh," Gregory said. He almost forgot he drew something for Michael about a week ago, and had purposely asked Mike for drawing tips and miniature lessons in the past. "I was just, um, trying to draw R2D2. See?" He flipped it over and showed Mike the sketch of the Star Wars droid, trying to hide a proud smile. "It's kinda crap, but he looks at least a little cool, right?"

"Aw." Michael smiled. "I like it. Want me to hang it on the fridge?"

"Uh…" Gregory cleared his throat. "Sure, whatever." Moving carefully, he tore out the paper and handed it over.

"Didn't know you were a Star Wars fan," Michael said as he took it.

"I haven't seen the movies in forever, but yeah, they're kind of cool," said Gregory. "It's May the Fourth, you know." He couldn't keep back a grin. "May the Fourth be with you."

Michael snorted. "Ah, so you're a nerd now."

"Hey!" Gregory jumped to his feet. "I am not!"

"Just teasing you." Mike tussled his hair. "I'll go get started on the waffles. How many would you like?"

"Two?" Gregory replied.

"Sounds good," said Michael, heading for the exit. He paused in the doorway when Lefty edged in around him, rubbing her face against his leg. He gave a chuckle and shut the door behind him. Gregory knelt on the floor as the cat strolled over to him and proceeded to push her head against his hand. He snickered, scratching behind her ears.

"I sometimes forget you really get to stay here," he said, petting the side of her face as she rubbed it against his fingers. "Or that even I'm staying here. It's great, isn't it?" He paused, his eyes trailing between her, the sketchbook, and the calendar hanging on one of the plain bedroom walls. They stilled on Lefty who peered up at him, her single eye narrowed. She let out a mew of confusion when Gregory couldn't keep back an excited laugh. "Lefty, I've got a hilarious idea!"

He leapt to his feet, and snatching up the pad of paper, hurried over to the small table in his room. Right now, the former guestroom was quite barren, with only a table, a bed, a dresser, and some loose things Gregory had accumulated, such as papers, pens, drawings of his and Mike's, and one or two stray toy cars he found in the storage closet. He rooted through a box of this-and-that beneath the miniature table. After fishing around a bit, he triumphantly retrieved his box of crayons.

"Okay, for this joke to work, you've got to be very obedient," Gregory said as he began furiously drawing and coloring on a new sheet of paper. "No fussing at me. You're gonna look great!" Lefty hopped onto the desk and sat, watching curiously while he worked on his new idea. It proved to be harder than he anticipated, or at least the cutting and tying part. But after he managed to find some stray thread and scissors in the closet, he succeeded at cutting and drawing the perfect, make-shift costume for Lefty. It looked quite bad, but it would work for the joke. He'd definitely get back at Michael for calling him a nerd.

"Okay," Gregory said, picking up the paper cape, "hold still." Lefty's ears went flat as he carefully moved the thread around her neck and adjusted the cape on her back. She gave a low, annoyed meow, then shook her head. The cape became askew. "Bad cat," he whispered, adjusting it again. "Keep holding still." Lifting the other part he made, a slightly messy mask, he tried his best to keep it on her head. It was small, so it more-or-less fit, but Lefty was not having it. Meowing and batting at his hand, she squirmed and moved her face in different directions. Gregory groaned. "It's just for a really short joke, you'll barely even have to wear it!"

He froze as Michael's voice reached his room. "Gregory! Breakfast is ready!"

"Shoot!" He fumbled with the crumpled piece of paper. Lefty hopped off the table, where she sat and began washing herself. The cape remained, but Gregory still had the paper mask in his hand. "Ugh, why am I trying so hard with this?" He crouched beside her. Moving carefully and slowly, he slipped the paper onto her face. Her shoulders tensed, but she did not shake it off.

"Perfect!" Scooping Lefty off her paws, he dashed out of his room and went for the dining area. Once he neared it, he slowed and adjusted her in his hands. Mike approached the table, not looking Gregory's way as he set out his food and drink. Fighting back the urge to giggle, Gregory crept over and lifted a squirming Lefty in front of his face. "Hey," he whispered. "Look over here."

"Hm?" Michael shifted his attention over.

"Mike," Gregory said, making fake breathing sounds as he spoke through Lefty's fur, "I am your fathah." He continued the Darth Vader breaths for only a second longer, interrupted by a sudden fit of laughter that forced its way out of his body. Accidentally dropping Lefty, he put a hand against his mouth in an attempt to stifle his guffaws. She landed on her paws, where she gave a grouchy meow then shook off the colored pieces of paper.

"Wow." Michael crossed his arms. "Did you seriously try and make a Darth Vader cape and mask just to say that to me?"

"M…maybe," Gregory said between laughs, struggling to catch his breath. "I-it was too perfect of an idea! I had to!"

Michael chuckled. "Alright, weirdo. Come over here and eat your breakfast. Don't want you to eat too much later, it's getting closer to noon."

"Got it." Gregory plunked down and lifted his glass. After taking a swig of orange juice, he shot Michael a look. "And I'm not a nerd."

"I was just teasing you," he said with a light chuckle. "A lot of people like Star Wars; I know I was a pretty big fan when I was younger."

"You have no right to tease me then!" Gregory pointed at him.

Michael laughed again, settling across from him. "Okay, I guess a guy who saw almost all three movies in theaters can't really talk."

"Ha." Gregory grinned. "Plus, you like soap operas. That's just cheesy."

"Laugh all you like," said Michael, shaking his head at him. "I'll get you into soaps one day."

"Gross!" Gregory crinkled his nose, then set to work scarfing his waffles.

Michael drummed his fingers on the table, his gaze swapping between Gregory and Lefty who circled his legs and purred. "You know," Mike said, "I actually have an amusing story having to do with Star Wars."

"Really?" Gregory said through a bite of waffle. "What is it?"

"Stop talking with your mouth full, and I'll tell you," said Mike with a teasing smile.

Gregory swallowed, scowling.

Chuckling at his expression, Mike went on, "Anyways, I remember it quite vividly. It was a month or so after we saw the second movie for the first time. I was, um…I think twelve, at the time." He shifted his weight. "My siblings and I were in a hyper mood and were randomly acting like the characters; having lightsaber duels, shooting blasters, whatever."

Gregory nodded, listening while he ate.

A slight grimace crossed Michael's face. "William overlooked us a lot, never really joined in our games. Just this once, though, we somehow roped him into our make-believe." The grimace faded, now an expression somewhere between amused and smug. "You see, my brother and I didn't have actual lightsabers. Instead, he used one of Elizabeth's batons and I used a wiffle bat, you know, one of those yellow plastic bats."

"Uh huh." Gregory nodded again, this time slower. "Where is this going?"

The corner of Mike's mouth turned up in a smirk. "Near the end of our make-believe, I was dueling a less-than-enthusiastic Darth Vader, aka, my terrible father. I…may have gotten a little too into it, and when he pretended to fall down injured, I accidentally struck him on the head. Hard."

Gregory paused, halfway into lifting a bite of waffle to his mouth.

"He almost got a concussion," said Mike. "He was then ticked off at me for a while, but it's a memory I think of from time to time, just to laugh at him. The look on his face was priceless, and I still remember the loud thwack when the bat hit his head."

Dropping his fork, Gregory laughed outright. "Best May the Fourth story ever! That's what he gets!"

Michael chuckled along. "Thought you'd like that."

Gregory shoved the final bit of his food into his mouth, then after chewing and swallowing properly, downed the rest of his orange juice. "Thanks." He hopped to his feet.

"Mhm." Michael hummed, already cleaning up his place. "Make sure you take Lefty's costume thing to your room."

"I'll just throw it out," Gregory said as he snatched up the pieces of paper.

Michael stopped in the entrance of the kitchen. "You sure?"

"Yeah, it's not like they're super good or anything," Gregory said, strolling towards the trash can. "Just made them for a joke."

"That's alright." Michael breezed over and pried the paper from Gregory's hands. "I can store them somewhere."

"Sentimental much?" Gregory crossed his arms.

"Oh, hush," Mike said, entering the kitchen. "Any chaotic plans for today?"

"I was just planning to go ride my bike a bit," Gregory said.

Michael paused at the sink, a frown finding its way to his lips. "It's still big for you."

"Duh, it's not like I could grow much in the last few days," said Gregory.

"Because you're short?"

"Oi!"

"Hmm, that sounded a little British."

"Gah, shut up!" Gregory covered his ears and rushed out of the room. "I'm going to the dirt road!"

"Have fun and be careful!" Michael called after him.

"Yeah, yeah," Gregory said as he fumbled with the doorknob. Flinging it open, he hopped off the porch and to the yard, where he'd left the bicycle. He rolled it onto the sidewalk, and swung himself on, just barely managing to start pumping the pedals before it could fall over. The wind whooshed around him and blew his hair while he rushed down the sidewalk then around the nearest corner. He couldn't keep back a grin, pedaling harder and zipping around a couple strolling through the neighborhood.

"Just don't lose speed, and you won't fall," he said, veering around another corner. He sped down the more hidden sidewalk. Stray branches snatched at his arm as he roared past, but he paid no mind to it. He had a mission in mind: go as fast as possible, then launch himself off the first bump in the upcoming dirt street. Who cared if it ended in disaster? He grinned, turning sharply onto the dirt road. His legs ached and the whirring of the old chain rang in his ears. "Here we go!" The first tire hit the bump. He cried out, jerking the handlebars to the side as the bike leapt forward and crashed back down. Both tires spazzed out, and he just barely managed to jolt the handle in the other direction, steadying the bike. With a whoop of excitement, he kept going down the road, taking joy in the many bumps and ruts. So far, so good. He hadn't fallen.

He thought he was in the clear, determined to reach the other end of the secluded street with no mishaps. No such luck. As he zipped around the nearest bend, he didn't see the other approaching bike in time. With a yelp, he squeezed the brakes, but already his fate was sealed. Both bicycles collided, sending their riders to the ground. Gregory landed hard, his leg pinned by the metal and a hand scraping across the dusty road. Giving an angry grunt, he kicked the bike off and sat up. Dirt layered his clothing, and his hand, elbow, and knee all stung. He shot the other rider a glare as they also sat up.

"Oh." The young boy blinked at Gregory. "Sorry." He gave a short laugh. "I didn't know anybody else rode here."

Gregory acknowledged this with another grunt. Rising to his feet, he began brushing himself off furiously. He knew Michael would be quite displeased seeing him return home, covered in dirt yet again. The stranger hopped up beside him. "I haven't seen you around before. What's your name?"

"Doesn't matter," Gregory said, yanking the bicycle out from under the other kid's.

"Sorry for bashing into you," said the boy. "I didn't even see you."

"Guess we were both going pretty fast." Gregory turned away. "See ya." He started away, wheeling the bike beside him and glaring at the ground. He never liked interacting with other kids, not since he was shunned and poked fun of so many times in the foster homes. There was a time when he longed to spend time with them again, but such feelings were ignored, shoved away. Right now, it was just him, Mike, and Lefty. And that's how it would stay. Anybody else would just stab him in the back.

"Hey!" the boy called after him. "Hey, wait!"

Heaving a sigh, Gregory halted and turned to the stranger with a petulant look.

He stopped in front of Gregory. "I'm Tony, by the way. Just, y'know, in case we bump into each other again. Hopefully not literally next time though, right?" He gave a short laugh.

"Uh huh," Gregory said, continuing on his way.

To his dismay, Tony walked with him. "And your name?"

"Gregory," he said.

"Ah okay," said Tony. "You live around here?"

"None of your business."

"Oh." Tony slowed to a stop. Gregory kept going, frowning deeply. This was the first time any other kid had paid attention to him in a while. It didn't matter, though.

"Hey!" Tony called again, causing Gregory to stop, annoyance stirring in his stomach. "Just one more thing!"

Dropping the bicycle, Gregory stalked back over to Tony. Frustration tinged his voice. "What is it now?"

Tony sent him an almost devious grin as he neared. "Have you ever heard the creepy story about this road?"

Halting, Gregory tipped his head to the side. "What are you talking about?"

"This road," Tony said, gesturing up and down the thin, dirt street. "It's got a secret story behind it, you know."

"Really?" Gregory said, interested, despite himself. "What is it?"

"Well, I don't know if you want to hear it." Tony crossed his arms. "It's pretty creepy. Think you can handle it?"

Gregory snorted. "Trust me, I've seen worse."

"Well, okay then." Tony shrugged. Lowering his voice, he leaned closer and said, "This is one of the only dirt roads in town, and I was always really curious about it. So I did some investigating, and guess what I found?"

Gregory blinked, waiting.

"It's haunted," Tony said.

With a sigh, Gregory rolled his eyes. "Sure. I've seen real haunted stuff before, do really think it is?"

"You didn't even let me finish the story." Tony punched him lightly in the shoulder. Gregory cringed and fell back a step, but Tony didn't seem to notice, continued on, "You see, it's said that one night, way back near the beginning of Hurricane, there was a woman who was found dead here. People say she was walking home that night because her carriage got stuck in a rut, but she never made it. Several days later, her family found her body in the ditch, mangled and rotting."

Gregory unwillingly shuddered.

"Some people say they still see her sometimes," Tony said. "Walking up and down the street. And every time someone has tried to pave this road or get rid of it, they've gotten really ill or strange disasters started happening. Once, somebody who was planning to turn the dirt into blacktop just dropped dead out of nowhere!" He leaned even closer. "Sometimes, if you come here around the exact time she died that night, you can still see her standing in the ditch or walking up and down the road." He moved his finger back and forth, whispering, "Up and down, and up and down, and—"

"Boo!" Gregory lurched towards him. Tony yelped and jumped back. Bursting out laughing, Gregory pointed at him. "Who's the one who can't handle it now, huh?"

"Not cool." Tony shot him a look.

Gregory just laughed. "Whatever. You know that's probably made up, right?"

"Maybe," Tony said, "but it could also be real. You said you've seen haunted things before, so you obviously believe in ghosts, right?"

Gregory shifted his gaze towards the ground. "Yeah." Pushing off unwanted thoughts, he looked back up. "But that's just ridiculous. It's some old, random story people tell to scare each other."

"I'll prove it to you." Tony headed in the opposite direction of Gregory's bike. "I'll show you the ditch."

"It just a ditch," Gregory said, following.

"Nuh uh. Look." Tony stopped at the side of the road, pointing down at a muddy decline beside it. "It's bigger than the rest of the ditch, right? And sometimes, I swear, the dirt looks darker than usual."

Gregory peered down at it. With a small 'tsk' sound, he said, "Yeah right."

"Fine then" Tony said. "If you really don't believe this is haunted, I dare you to come down here and stand beside the ditch at midnight."

"Oh, of course it's midnight," said Gregory. "What am I gonna see? A blue force ghost?"

Tony snorted. "Hey, you're a Star Wars fan?"

Blinking, Gregory shifted his weight. "Yeah, kind of. Why?"

"You literally just mentioned a force ghost," Tony said. He paused a moment, then his eyes lit up and he said, "You know, me and my friend were planning to have a marathon and watch all three movies today. You wanna come over? I bet you'd like him."

Gregory tensed, familiar caution filling his body. Why was he still tolerating this boy? And who would be so careless as to invite somebody they just met over to their house? Shaking his head, Gregory turned away. "Nah. Doubt my dad would let me, and besides, I barely know you."

"Guess there's only one option then," Tony said.

"What do you mean?" Gregory glanced over his shoulder.

Tony retrieved a stick from the ground, then pointed it at him with a grin. "Lightsaber duel."

"Pfft." Gregory rolled his eyes. "No way." He continued on towards his bike. His footsteps halted as he felt an unfamiliar object lightly jab him in the back.

"Ha," said Tony. "Beat you."

"What? No!" Gregory spun around to him. "I didn't want to fight."

"Yeah, but I stabbed you, so you lost." Tony jerked his shoulders into a shrug.

"No." Gregory snatched another stick from the tufts of grass beside the road. Pointing it at Tony, he got into the proper fighting stance. "Rematch!"

"You're on!" Tony dove, his "lightsaber" at the ready. Gregory swung back, thus beginning one of several make-shift lightsaber duels. It went on for longer than Gregory meant for it to, soon ending with the two boys literally tackling each other and rolling around in the dirt. So much for not getting dirty.

By the end of the fight, Gregory knew he should return home, so as not to worry Michael. The two boys waved at each other as they left. "I'll see you later, Greg!" Tony called over his shoulder. "Remember what I said about that ditch! Come at midnight sometime and tell me what you see!"

"Yeah, whatever!" Gregory called back, finally grabbing his bike. As he wheeled it back towards the proper sidewalk, he frowned. Oh crap, he thought. I just accidentally made a friend, didn't I? He slammed to a halt and cried out, nearly releasing the bike. A figure stood beside one of the trees lining the sidewalk.

"Whoa, whoa." They stepped out, revealing themself. Michael sent Gregory a sheepish smile. "Sorry."

"Jeez, Dad!" Gregory shook his head. "You almost gave me a heart attack! Why were you hanging out there like a creep?"

"It's been a while since you left," Mike replied. "I came to see what you were up to, make sure you were alright."

"Then you decided to be a creep?" Gregory said.

Michael shook his head, chuckling at him. "No, of course not. I was actually just about to leave."

"Yeah, well, I am too now." Gregory went on his way. Michael treaded beside him, the two strolling along the sidewalk beneath the bright blue sky. "I missed lunch, didn't I?"

"Mhm," said Michael. "I can warm it up for you, though. Should still be good."

"Good," Gregory said.

"So—" Michael sent him a curious smile— "I saw you playing with another boy. Did you make a friend?"

"I, um, I don't know." Gregory looked down. "I-I haven't had a proper friend in forever, I just…ugh, I don't know. Should I even be friends with him?"

"There's nothing wrong with having friends, Rory," Mike said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You two were obviously having fun, and as long as he seems like a nice enough kid, it would be good for you."

"Eh." Gregory shrugged. "Guess it just feels weird playing and talking to other kids again. I haven't been a normal kid in a long time." If ever, really. He shrugged Mike's hand off. "But whatever. If I see him again, I guess I'll talk to him."

Michael paused, then with a softer smile, he patted Gregory on the head (which he grunted in annoyance at.) They spoke of other things on the way back to the house, Gregory relaxing a tad, after the previous interactions. The rest of the day was pretty much normal; no horrid things happened, no new or exciting things either. Gregory was a strange mixture of emotions when he headed for bed that night. He puzzled over the day silently while he readied to sleep, but stopped short when he spotted something lying on his bed. A piece of paper. Lifting it, he couldn't keep back a laugh and a fond smile. It was one of Michael's drawings, left for him to find. It depicted Gregory himself, covered in dirt with mussed-up hair and wearing the outfit of a Jedi. He wielded a stick, which he pointed down at Lefty, donning a Darth Vader outfit. Though the Gregory in the drawing grinned and looked ready for battle, Lefty simply stared at him with a less-than-amused expression, clearly not inclined to duel.

Gregory hung the picture beside the bed, then settled under his covers. He smiled up at it, his eyes slowly slipping shut. "May the Fourth be with you, Dad," he whispered, then giggled at his own joke as he snuggled farther under his blankets, ready for whatever the next day held.