Light and heat blasted into him as he stepped out through the threshold. He blinked and jolted. A lady with a fluffy red-and-white dog wearing a "DO NOT PET" vest passed him from the elevator they just left. Gregory gasped as Bonnie fell from his grasp. He picked him up, finding his coat–clean and free from garbage–tied around his waist. His arm was still bandaged. Gregory put a hand on his face, a bandage there, too. His fingers pushed up his Monty Gator glasses.
"You're kinda in the way," someone told him. Gregory stepped sideways out of the path of the elevator.
Bonnie? Is this real?
"I… don't… know…?"
Gregory checked his pocket. He found the golf score sheet as well as the Party Pass he had brought in from home. So, he had not gone golfing with Monty that night and thus did not give his Party Pass to the ticket bot. However, he had his golf score sheet… with Monty's signature and note. In his glasses, the chat log and cameras were empty.
The time was six pm.
Okay, so, we tried to leave at six am through the front doors and it brought us back here? Twelve hours in the past?
"Maybe we should try again?"
Without a ticket? No, if we try again, we might get stuck at the front entrance. If we leave, we'll leave somewhere else. Like…
Gregory's eyes drew up to the East Arcade. The fire escape?
"Let's think of a game plan first, okay?"
Alright.
Gregory wandered deeper into the Mega Pizzaplex. It was… jarring how different the place looked lit up and cozy with people than it did empty and dark. His eyes glazed over the signs begging him to go to Monty Golf… Roxanne Raceway… the Starcade. Then, his eyes rested on the stage. There was one way for this night to end. He needed to leave. Maybe all he needed to do was leave with the rest of the crowd after the show. This time without following the white rabbit.
"Hopefully."
Gregory sat at one of the small tables near the wall, lay his head on Bonnie, and watched the stage. He wouldn't get a good look at the glamrocks from here. But he'd be close enough to see them. He let out a short sigh. It was weirdly nice to sit down. Despite having technically not been running around the Pizzaplex for almost seven hours, he was sore as if he did and as if he'd tumbled over the go-kart track. Ugh, time loops kept scrapes and bruises and not just bandages, huh?
Heavy feet thumped the ground beside him and stopped. "Hello, little boy," she chirped.
Gregory sat up and looked into Chica's dark blue eyes. She stood behind him, shiny and whole, back straight and feet in front of her and head up. "Oh, uh, hey, Chica."
"What are you up to? Where are your friends?"
"They're, uh… they're not here. My little sister is having a birthday party and our parents let our older brother take us. But none of my friends could make it."
Chica put a finger to her beak. "Oh, well… I'm sorry to hear that."
Gregory shrugged. "It's okay. I have Bonnie. We'll just wait until the show starts."
Chica hummed to herself and gasped, "Oh! You know what? Cupcakes make everything better. The show's going to take a long time to start. How about I take you to the cupcake factory in the meantime?"
The cupcake factory? Like the one we used to build the giant cupcake to try to kill you with? Gregory nodded and got to his feet.
"I'm sure they make smaller ones."
The boy followed her through the crowd as she cheerfully greeted and cooed over everyone who asked for her attention. Gregory couldn't summon any indignation or impatience, but rather guilt. This was a very different chicken than the one he met last night. Or was it this night? Stupid time travel. The escalators actually worked, so he just needed to watch his step at the bottom and top of the moving steps.
"What is your favorite flavor?" she asked.
"Chocolate and caramel," he answered almost immediately.
"Ooooh~! Those go really well together! No wonder they're your favorite. This is going to be so fun! Do you like sprinkles?"
They passed through the hall leading to the cupcake factory.
Gregory shrugged. "Sure."
The animatronic chicken chuckled. "Well, we have all sorts of decorations, you know. You don't have to have sprinkles. Or any decorations if you don't want any. But we have plenty if you do!"
The heavy smell of every cupcake imaginable met them in the hall before they entered the cupcake factory itself. Gregory jolted, taken aback by the sheer amount of smells. At night, there was hardly anything to speak of. Did the cleaning crew wipe down everything that thoroughly? Well, they probably had to clean out Chica, and whoever could prove they didn't feed her probably didn't get blamed and charged for cleaning her out or something.
"Do you have any allergies?" she asked.
He jerked out of his thoughts and shook his head. "No, no allergies or anything like that."
"Okay! It's always very important to start with that. All conditions must be taken very seriously. Now, let's go find an apron that will fit you. Baking can be messy business!"
They walked around the huge shop-esc building inside of the room, which was turned into an L-shaped hall by it. Intricate, curly designs set in the pink metal stood out on the doors and walls and glass, allowing him to see into the huge kitchen behind the front counter. The nine bots that were there at night had dwindled to three–not including the washer bot–with human adult staff and parents to oversee the children around the appliances. Those too young to use the appliances had an adult or bot use it for them.
Chica opened a cabinet just inside by the back door and pulled an apron out that said "LET'S EAT" on it for herself. Gregory's was much smaller to fit himself and, as he knew from experience with Fazbear merchandise Bonnie would not be there, it was Freddy-themed. The bear had been terrifying at night, yeah, but Chica tried to kill him as well. Now Chica was bubbly and nice and was helping him make a cupcake rather than trying to kill him. Maybe Freddy was nice, too.
She helped him tie the apron behind his back. Chica explained, "We'll need to wait our turn. There are plenty of other kids making their cupcakes. In the meantime, you can imagine what yours will look like!"
A sudden wariness crept up on Gregory. "Hey, um… Bonnie doesn't like being alone, but I don't want to risk getting batter on him. Do you have a bag I can hold him in for a little bit?"
Chica hummed. "Well, I don't think so. I could hold him in my stomach hatch, though. I'll keep him safe until we're all clear. What do you two think of that?"
Gregory nodded. "Okay." She's way too small to hold me, but she could probably hold you.
"She does sometimes carry toys and give out tickets and gifts to kids."
He held out Bonnie and Chica gently took the toy, pulled the loop of her apron over her head, set him in her stomach hatch, and then pulled her apron back on properly.
A free place opened up as a little over half a dozen kids and just under that many parental or older sibling supervision moved off with their new cupcakes. Chica helped Gregory with the ingredients he needed and instructions on how to bake. On occasion, she'd coo over cupcakes other kids had made, giving tips when asked and making joking grabs for them when appropriate. She also encouraged some of the chaperones to help. One gloomy teenage boy in particular dressed in black with a red streak in his short, raven hair watched a few of his younger cousins bake. He wore a Daycare Theater apron, probably because it was the only one that had any amount of black on it–that being Moon, whom Gregory found appropriately scary for an angsty teen. It took some convincing, but Chica managed to get him to make one cupcake for himself. Gregory wanted to hate it, just as he hated the kid's attitude, but he couldn't. Chica was right–it was masterfully done, and Gregory knew he was lying when the boy hissed that he wasn't into baking, reiterating that it was a girl's activity.
"Baking is an everyone's activity!" Chica chirped. "Girls, boys, and everyone else can enjoy baking. Anyone who likes to eat can like to bake."
Gregory scoffed, looking at his pale golden cupcake. "I thought it was more fun than just standing in a corner watching everyone else and I'm not a girl."
"Yeah, but you're like, seven."
"Eleven. I'm not seven."
One of his cousins tipped her head back and groaned. "You're always like this, Gummy! Come on, let's go before you get us kicked out again."
"My name's not Gummy!" the boy snapped, snatched his cupcake, and followed the kids.
His fellow teen snorted. "Monty's been taken, Montgomery. Have you tried Monty_16?"
Gregory rolled his eyes. "Teens like him are so annoying."
Chica turned to Gregory. "Now, Gregory! Don't be mean! Monty's sensitive about his baking skills for whatever reason. It's not nice to pick at people, even people bigger than you."
Gregory gave her a wary look. "Kids can't bully teens."
Chica nodded. "They can. Anyone can be a bully, even on accident. If I wasn't here, would you have teased him about his baking skills?"
He… decided not to answer this.
Her voice softened. "You are a good kid, Gregory. You are so nice and such a good baker! Look at you! But be careful about what you say because sometimes we can hurt people's feelings by accident. Sometimes, they won't tell us we're hurting them, either. So, we should be aware of how people are feeling. Okay?"
Like how Monty never tells anyone he doesn't like that people think he's just some dumb, scary alligator? People way smaller than him can push him around as much as they want, and he can't do anything about it. Gregory nodded. "Okay. I will. Thanks, Chica."
"That's great to hear! Thank you, Gregory! Now, let's look at this cupcake, huh?"
His cupcake was still messy. Multicolor stars peppered its pale gold surface, some of which smudged onto the green and orange zig-zagged cupcake wrapper. "I kind of like this," he stated. "I think the stars are good enough."
"The stars are very pretty!" she agreed. "And they look very good on this cupcake. Ooooh salted caramel frosting on a chocolate fudge cupcake! You have quite the taste in dessert. Oh! One last thing!" She walked back to the wrapper cabinet, shuffled through it, and then came back with an empty cupcake paper–pink with yellow triangles. "Here! An extra cupcake paper! Next time you bake at home, you'll have at least one extra."
Gregory took it from her. Like the golf score sheet. "Thank you, Chica!" He gently folded it and set it in his pocket. "Thanks for helping me."
"Definitely! Now, I'm sorry, but I have a Mazercise class I have to head off to. It was really nice getting to know you, though! I'm sure you're a wonderful friend to have. Speaking of which!" She took off her apron and helped Gregory untie his. Then, she opened her stomach hatch, took Bonnie out, and handed him back–as well as a golden ticket.
Gregory took Bonnie back, automatically holding him under his arm, and then the ticket. "Oh, uh, this isn't mine."
"That's not yours?" she asked. "Well, it's not mine… oh! Goodness, was Bonnie going to surprise you with a Party Pass and I just ruined it? I'm so sorry, Bonnie! Well, he's a very good friend. Maybe next time you come here you can meet my friend Roxy! She loves helping kids race in Roxy's Raceway and sometimes visits the Salon. Or Monty! You might like him, too. If you haven't already met him. Monty's almost always in Monty Golf." She rolled her eyes and chuckled. "He's a fun gator. You'd be fast friends! If you haven't met Freddy already, he's really nice to be around and he would just love to meet you! You have a good night, and tell your little sister happy birthday for me, okay?"
Gregory pocketed the Party Pass. "Okay. I will. Thank you again, Chica! Good night!"
Gregory took his cupcake, set his apron in the laundry tub, and walked out. Chica walked out of the cupcake factory, greeting people, and cooing over kids and their creations as she went.
"Chica has always been so kind and generous. It's a wonder Fazbear Entertainment has kept her around, what with her gifts. Technically, she's only allowed to give out Party Passes to birthday kids. But sometimes stuffed animals she holds will mysteriously have them and gift them to kids instead of her. She's smarter than people tend to give her credit for."
Gregory looked down at his cupcake and then at the tables. He took one of the chairs, set Bonnie down, and ate his messily made creation. Why is she so different at night?
"You saw Monty and how different he was as well. Roxy, Freddy, and the Daycare Attendant have to be the same way."
It's kind of too late to go to Roxy Raceway, though. We'll just have to see them on stage.
"Why? Why don't we just run?"
Time loop, remember? I don't have a ticket and we don't know how it works, exactly.
"True. After the show at the latest."
He tossed his empty cupcake paper away and walked down the hall back to the atrium. Unfortunately, Gregory couldn't shake off his curiosity. He knew entering the raceway would prove to be futile–he wouldn't get to meet Roxy. Even if he did, he wouldn't get to meet her well enough to get her to spare him come night when the white rabbit mind controlled her. That was if he wasn't able to escape after the show and before the Mega Pizzaplex closed, of course.
Gregory walked past a few people to get into Roxy Raceway. With the ceiling lights on, the raceway felt both larger and smaller at the same time, which was weird? Smaller in that it had space and therefore was not an endless void, but larger as in it had a taller ceiling than most any other place in the Mega Pizzaplex barring the main atrium.
Go-karts zoomed over the track. People whooped and called all along the sides, watching their friends and family and random people as they waited or simply watched for the fun of it. Some people shopped for snacks along the balcony on which Gregory had entered as he quickly climbed down the stairs. A cluster of kids played bumper-karts. Roxanne Wolf stood by the starting line, watching the go-karts race. As it was so late, the crowd had thinned.
Right, it was getting late. Maybe he could try leaving through one place–such as the fire exit.
Gregory walked back through Roxy Raceway and then up the escalators to the East Starcade, and through there to the Prize Counter. He let out a breath as he walked straight through the open archway that would hold shutters come night. Jeez how much easier his night would have been if these were left open!
Plenty of kids and adults stood at the Prize Counter, picking out their prizes for their tokens. Gregory tapped his glasses. Unfortunately, his CAMS tab was empty. Darn. So, he made his way around the place as inconspicuously as possible, admiring the toys, eventually backing toward the open hall to the fire exit. Once he was within range, and out of immediate sight as the closest security guard looked away, he crept as quickly as he could up to the doors, pushed on them, and then pulled.
Cli-clunk.
Still locked? Did he have to start a fire or was he still not VIP enough?!
He scurried back to the Prize Counter before he was found. Okay, so, there was the Loading Docks, which he wasn't getting to any time soon being a guest without security clearance. Though there was that vent near Salads and Sides he didn't need security clearance to enter. There were the front doors, which he could get stuck in the front area since he didn't have a ticket. But it was a possibility.
"So, Salads and Sides vent or the front doors. Maybe that free entry pass is there."
Gregory grinned. Right! The free entry pass! Unless they refilled it every evening after guests left, there was a possibility that he could get back inside using a free pass.
With that in mind, he left the Prize Counter along with a growing group of other guests. Confusion was quickly replaced by understanding and then a cold feeling of dread. Showtime.
Gregory edged out of the crowd on the first-floor balcony. A headache crept up on him–an all too familiar sensation that preceded danger. He looked back to see himself before the hallway to Roxy Raceway. In that hall to Roxy Raceway was the white rabbit. She tipped her head so that her ears flopped over, and she waved. He darted off. Her head moved to show her eyes following him, but weirdly, she did not go after him. Instead, she turned back and skipped away.
He squirmed through the crowd, holding Bonnie close to his chest, not bothering to react to the surprised and angry comments. He looked toward the doors but stopped. A kid running for his life through a massive crowd of people would not only be incredibly obvious from the stir he'd make but he would be slowed down by this thick crowd. So, he made a break for Salads and Sides, keeping his head down and staying slow, mumbling apologies, and asking for clearance. A security barrier kept him from reaching the area near it. He, sending a look both ways, climbed over it and darted inside.
He managed to make it partway through the metal vent when he heard the click of little metal legs and the chime of music. He pushed himself to go faster and crawled through the vent, stumbled over the short area of space tall enough for him to stand in, and threw himself into the vent on the other side. He slid down the rest of the vent, thumping into the sides and finally being thrown into the small room with a few red vat things.
"Gregory, why are we here?"
It… is a good idea. Trust me.
"We don't have any security clearance. How are we supposed to get anywhere?"
He grimaced and crept into the break room. Well… there's a security room near here…
"And every human guard in the building's going to go nuts over it."
Okay, what do you think we should do?
"I don't know, but not this!"
Gregory crept up the small technology spaghetti room. Voices and beeping technology emanated from within. The second he stepped through there, they'd see him and he'd be taken to kid jail. Technically, it was a better option than being killed, but still not a favorable option. Footsteps thumped over the grate in the vat room and to the spaghetti wire room. He sucked in his breath and darted to the yellow lockers. Gregory threw himself into one, hugged Bonnie close, and shut his eyes. The door creaked open, the footsteps entered, and objects shuffled.
"…have an hour left on shift. An hour. Jesus Christ. This has to be breaking some labor laws. Hey, I recognize that look. What's up?"
"Nothing, it's… okay, so, Robert told me you said you were applying for other positions. He didn't tell the boss or nothing. But are you really leaving?"
"Well, it's not that I want to, but… Mark and I were talking. It's probably a rumor, but he thinks they're getting ready to fire us all. And you know Mark, he's drinking buddies with the brother of the CEO's side-chick. So, if anyone would know, it would be him. I thought I'd get ahead of the curb. I think you should, too."
The locker beside Gregory opened. He flinched but managed to stay quiet.
"Ha! And what, replace us with those mindless bots? As if. This place would tank in a day, a week tops."
The locker shut again.
"I don't know, the way those corporate idiots think…? They might believe the bots could handle it."
The door opened. "They can't be that stupid. …oh, fuck they are that st–"
The door closed.
Gregory waited. He waited and waited in the silence until finally deeming the coast clear and creeping out. He walked up to the doors. Strangely, they'd gone completely silent. He cracked them open, only to find them empty. He walked through the room and hesitated before tip-toeing into the vat room. He was halfway through it, clutching Bonnie tight to his chest, before he looked up and saw a security camera, its red light blinking, staring right at him.
"Get out of here! Come on!"
Gregory half considered going back. He shook off the thought and ran forward. The office room was empty as well. He stopped at the door and looked over the catwalk in the kitchen, finding that place empty, too, but still light.
He winced at the sudden headache and squinted. He ran ahead. Maybe he could grab the security badge and just vault the catwalk into the kitchen and hide if he didn't break both of his legs. However, going into the security room would trap him if the white rabbit found herself outside the door, which she had to as she was so close!
He ran to the door, and it opened.
An off-white paw lunged out of the security office and grabbed him by the front of the shirt. He squealed as he was shoved against the white rabbit, but her paw over his mouth muffled his scream. He squirmed and kicked and clawed at her arm and struck at her sides. The white rabbit pushed through a set of doors.
The white rabbit dragged him down the stairs.
He grew dizzy and wheezed and stumbled as it became harder and harder to breathe enough air through her grip to compensate for his thrashing. The Loading Docks left, and they were again in the Utility Tunnels, alone.
Rapidly running out of options, Gregory went completely limp.
The white rabbit stumbled and her grip on him slipped. She quickly regained her composure and went to contain him again. He slipped out of her grasp and made a mad dash in the opposite direction of wherever the heck she was going.
"Gregory!" she called. "Wait, don't go!"
"Save… it!" Gregory wheezed without looking back. Every muscle he had and more he didn't know he had ached and burned, and he couldn't breathe, and whatever the white rabbit was doing to his head was making it impossible to see ahead of himself or think of an escape. He just needed to find a place to hide.
Gregory turned a corner and kept running. He found a laundry tub and stopped long enough to hop into it and cover himself with whatever was in it. He covered his mouth with his hands, held Bonnie under the blanket, and shut his eyes tight.
When Gregory opened his eyes, he lay curled up under a blanket and his hands sat beside him, one draped over the cyan, red, and blue bunny's body, but not over his mouth. He was breathing normally. He blinked and sat up, dislodging the blanket. Aching, but at least somewhat rested, Gregory peered over the lip of the laundry tub, picked up Bonnie, and climbed out.
"Ugh, hopefully it's not too late," Gregory muttered.
"Hopefully."
Gregory started off down the tunnel at a quick walk. He turned a corner, running straight into another body just taller than him. He huffed and took a step back, looking straight up into a set of vivid green eyes.
"Kid? What are you doing here?" Officer Vanessa asked, more surprised than angry at his presence.
Gregory hissed under his breath and ran back in the opposite direction, ignoring her shout at him to stop. Choose a direction! Any direction! And I chose the exact wrong one! Why is she even here?!
"Because she works here? Though, that was pretty bad timing…"
That's one way to put it. Gregory ran where his feet took him, just looking for an escape. Sore and tired but not overwhelmingly so despite how long he'd been on his feet and his previous run–how long had he been asleep?–he blundered through a couple of sets of double metal red doors already cracked open and shut them both behind himself. He dove into a small "room" on the right wall. A few boxes with glass walls facing outward lined the wall, but one was boarded over, and he squeezed through the broken glass of the one beside it and hid behind the boards.
She followed him inside, hissing to herself, and searched the space. Eventually, she either gave up or imagined he had run out behind her because she turned and left right back through the red double doors.
When he peeked his head out, he found the protective cylinder in the far end of the room and sighed. Great. This again.
Gregory slipped out and walked up the stairs. He stopped as he got to the landing. He knew what would happen if he went with Monty… sort of. What if Monty didn't recognize him? What if Monty just turned around and ate him? They hadn't even seen each other all night, after all. The only animatronic Gregory had met that night was Chica.
He stuck his hand in his pocket and ran his fingers over the golf score sheet and the cupcake paper. The boy took a deep breath and walked through Chica's door. Her elevator took him up to her room. It let out a quiet, warbled ding before the lights flickered out. The doors opened halfway. Gregory squeezed himself out. When he pressed the button, the doors closed and refused to open again. Muffled music from a guitar emanated from Chica's green room.
Well, this is it, then.
"Chica is such a nice gal. Once she recognizes you, you won't have anything to worry about. But it never hurts to be careful."
The guitar music tapered out. Gregory looked up at the security door.
The door opened, revealing the silhouette of the chicken animatronic. "What are you doing here?"
"Wait! Wait, I-I'm stuck here." Gregory stood up and held his hands in front of himself. "I need your help escaping. Please, I just need to get out of here. I'm being chased by some murderer lady in a rabbit suit. You remember me from earlier, right?"
Chica hesitated and then nodded. "Gregory. Gregory! Oh, little boy, you're so frightened!" She stepped forward so that she stood in front of him. "I'm so sorry if I scared you. Of course, I'll help. A murderer in a rabbit suit? Oh, that sounds terrible. If we hurry, we can get you to the front doors before the Mega Pizzaplex closes. Come here. It's dark outside." She led him into her room and rummaged through a drawer in her vanity. Chica pulled out a cupcake keychain and held it out for him.
Gregory accepted it and pressed down on its squishy face. Something hard on the back of its "head" clicked and its eyes glowed. He clicked it again, and its eyes glowed purple. On the third press, it turned off. The thin keychain itself attached to the flame on the candle. "Thanks, Chica!"
Chica cooed, "Oh, you're welcome! Now, we should get you out of here." She tried to open the door, but it clicked back. "Hmm, yeah, I thought so. We should get you up into one of those vents." She pointed up at the two vents in her walls. "Then you can hop out and open my door from the outside! What do you think?"
Gregory nodded. "Good plan! Um… how do we open them?"
Chica set a finger on her beak. "Well, how about you stand on my shoulders, and you can reach the vent like that? We'll still need a way to open the vent."
The kid looked at her maintenance room. "Do you have a screwdriver back there?"
"I don't think so, but you can check! I'll keep thinking of something else in the meantime."
Gregory nodded and ran into the back room. He couldn't see any screwdrivers. He did see a discarded coin, though. He picked it up and ran back to Chica. "Hey, Chica! We can use this quarter. I know how to unscrew things with coins."
Chica gasped. "Really? Wow! You're so clever! Okay, here. Climb up on my shoulders." She got down on one knee and held her hands out. Gregory carefully stepped up onto her hands and, biting back a gasp, grabbed onto her head with a few fingers–one arm still held Bonnie and the quarter stay pinched between his thumb and forefinger–as she lifted him onto her shoulders and stood up. She held him by the ankles and stood up straight underneath the vent above the door to the maintenance room.
Gregory carefully unscrewed the vent register with the quarter. "You know, I bet Monty's first response would have been to tear off the vent."
Chica laughed. "Yep! Roxy, too, probably! Freddy may have opened it himself. But I'm not very tall, and I can't jump, and I don't have claws. So, I have to find other solutions to problems my friends might not have to think about. Besides, this is much more fun, don't you think?"
Gregory chuckled. "Yeah! Breaking into a vent as a team! We get to–whoa! Oh no!" He gasped as the coin slipped out of his hand. He tried to snatch it out of the air, but it fell out of his grasp, bounced over the floor, and rolled under the couch. Well, that's what he got for unscrewing a vent with one hand. Thankfully, he could pry the third screw the rest of the way off with his nails, and the vent register slid off. "Well, I lost the quarter, but the vent's open. Thanks, Chica! I'll be back soon."
"Be careful!" Chica slowly let go of Gregory, though she kept her hands near him.
He tossed Bonnie into the vent and pulled himself up. He picked up Bonnie again and started moving. He only passed one vent register this time.
He stopped at the end of the vent, pushed Bonnie out first, and then hesitated at the memory of pain. The last time he was in this vent, and he threw himself out, he cut himself on something. He looked over the edge of the vent and found a sharp edge. So, he adjusted his grip on the edge accordingly and threw himself out feet first, catching himself with his hands on the edge to break momentum so he wasn't falling as far. Gregory plucked Bonnie off the ground.
The time was eleven-thirty pm.