What if Evan was in Security Breach?

Reflections

And it wasn't.

Chica was suddenly knocked to the side, and she spun to see who was responsible. Gregory turned, shocked to see who he assumed was Evan, but there was something different about him.

He wasn't cowering. His gaze was fixated on Chica, his green eyes replaced by an intense void, two small lights focused on the mangled bird. Blood still fell in small threads down his face, but he acted like it wasn't there. Gregory stared for a moment, but regained his senses and took advantage of the situation, firing the Blaster and rendering her paralysed.

Gregory quickly turned on the generator and ran, realising he should go back for Evan, but for all he knew the boy was right behind him. He entered another corridor, catching his breath here, knowing that Chica wouldn't follow.

He turned and saw Evan right behind him. His eyes were green again, blood gone, but his craven expression hadn't returned.

"I'm staying," Evan told him, his voice completely even.

"You—" Gregory was surprised at the change in demeanour. "I want some answers first."

Evan took a deep breath. "Okay."

"Why didn't you tell me anything?" Gregory demanded.

Evan looked down, likely shameful. "I thought I'd be helping you. I figured if you didn't know, it'd be better. That way all the scary stuff was shoved to the side and we could just find a way out. I've realised now that way of thinking isn't helping anyone. I just...I don't want you dead, Gregory. I don't want another missing kid. I didn't even want the first five."

"Five? Nine are in the newspaper."

"I...was talking about the original. In 1985."

"What, like you were around in 1985?"

"Well, no, I was...dead by then."

Gregory blinked in surprise. "You lived before 1985? That means you're—like—sixty!"

Mild surprise fell across Evan's features. "Oh."

"That's your reaction?" Gregory asked. "A little shock? Is that, like, a dead person thing?"

Evan tensed. "I...well, probably, but..." He paused. "Can we stop talking about that past? Every time you mention it, I just get pulled back to when it happened and I...don't...want that."

Gregory hesitated. "Sure, fine. So...you're saying all those memories were real? Can I mention any of those?"

"Erm..." Evan looked away, his craven expression bubbling back up. "I'd prefer it if you didn't. It's...if I get pulled back to it all, I..." Evan searched for the right words. "I get nightmares," Evan eventually said. "And they aren't just scary dreams. They're physical. They're animatronics. I have seven different ones. Freddy, Chica, Bonnie, Foxy, Fredbear...and my Spring Bonnie plush."

"That's six," Gregory pointed out.

"I don't know what to call the last one," Evan admitted. "I don't like thinking about it. It hates me the most."

Gregory thought back to that void. "Is the Foxy one in a closet?"

Evan's eyes widened, and he took a step back. "You saw them?"

Gregory nodded. "Yeah. They were scattered around this weird void. The further I went in, the more I saw, until I reached this dark room and saw Fredbear—like, the robot, not the plushie—who looked at me with what I think was supposed to be an eye."

"Oh." Evan's voice was small.

"What?" Gregory said.

"Noth—erm...can I not answer this one? It doesn't affect what's going on here, I swear."