A Guard's life

New Year's eve!

A/N:
So, the first time I wrote this, it ended in death and panic, but I decided that I shouldn't do that, since I didn't even finish the goddamn "Toy-arc" (Toy-mission? Toy-salvation?!). Think it's a whole lot cuter now!
The song above is actually one of my favorites. It's so mysterious and funky! But not many people share my taste in music ^^" (Understandably)

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Phone Guy felt light. Happy. Finally complete.
He had told his employees that they were free to come and go whenever they pleased for New Year.
They were all here since twelve o'clock and haven't left once, except for Jeremy who had volunteered to buy something to eat for all of them.
A year came to an end and it was time to write his reports on his workers. Humming he sat down on his computer and began to open the files where he kept his notes on his workers.
Matt and Ronaldo did fine and he would write that down. The pizza improved and the prize corner... well, the prize corner was at least useful. Less lawsuits about traumatization than last year at least.
Jeremy Fitzgerald got top marks. A great employee, a great human being and despite needing careful guidance, he was a pleasure to work with.
Old Sport joined late and... behaved. Still not be trusted around children, unstable, but fairly easy to handle. Has bad manners with children, but works willingly in springlock-suits.
Vincent, now rather called Dave Miller again, improved revenue and robots, balancing out his destructive nature. Not to be trusted around children, Old Sport possibly a positive influence. If we can't keep them apart, we have to use them against each other.
Mike Schmidt... signed contract number four. Good morals, bad manners. Determined nature again and again shows itself to be a blessing.
Pausing he stared at his screen. Could he write more without losing his neutrality...?
"Simon."
Phone Guy almost threw over his computer, as he jumped up. "Mike? W-what is it?"
"I think it's time to talk."
"Please, it's New Year and we have to keep an eye on the others..."
"The puppet is doing a good job with that. I'm getting impatient, you used your "but it's day x" excuse far too often in this month. We will start the next year with the truth."
"Oh, so you're ready to tell me about yourself?"
"Forcing each other to reveal our secrets, since we can't bring ourselves to tell the truth on our own... I'm ready, but you will start. Simon?"
Slowly PG sat back down, trying to hide his shaking hands by clenching his fist. "Simon... is a name."
"No fucking shit, Sherlock."
"My name. Maybe. I... I can't tell. I'm the Phone Guy, I work here since 1979 as Fredbear's Family Diner was sold and rebranded. I... remember clearly that I signed the red contract. Restaurants closed and opened, but I was in every single one of them. Somehow. I don't know... they expect me to believe that. They let me know about the factory I wake up every time a restaurant needs a boss. They fill my head with memories. I remember working with Old Sport, I remember Dave. In both locations. They tell me I have a wife and two kids and I DO remember that. The kids sometimes wander around here, get bitten for fun, ask me when I start to pay my alimony and well... keeping an illusion up. As if I'm stupid. I KNOW that springlocked worker get send to the factory. They make them into something useful again."
Mike silently listened to his friend getting more and more agitated.
"There are things in my head that don't add up. I remember... having a boss once. With a Phone-head, just like me. I remember preforming in a suit, which would be impossible for someone with the size of my Phone. I remember performing for... my brother? I don't know anymore, I only know that I always worried about him. I don't know why. He called me Simon. Simon, he said, I feel so tired. I want to go home. But for some reason I always pleaded for him to stay. He didn't always, but the times he did were enough." Laughing, or rather coughing, Phone Guy rested his arms on the table. "Then, it happened. One day, it was rainy. That's all I remember. The sound of rain. And words, people talking down to me. We'll see each other soon, alrighty? Afterwards, the manager: Maybe you will learn to forgive me. One day. I'm sorry it has to be this way, but that's... the joy of creation."
Now Mike jolted up, a prickling sensation in the back of his mind. He'd heard that before. On his first day, his purple co-worker in front of him, talking as if crazed by an unseen force, while nausea infected every fiber of his being.
Instead, let's teach them about the JOY OF CREA-
Creation.
"What is the joy of creation?"
"If I knew, I might understand all of this insanity. But I don't."
"Vinc- Dave once mentioned it."
"Well, he has been with the chain for the longest."
Mike tapped with his knuckles on the table. "So, you think Simon is your real name?"
"... I don't know. But those memories... what if it's just a trick?! What if they installed those memories, to test my behavior? To check if I'm getting unreliable?!"
"Who are they?"
"The higher-ups. The people who control the factory, the people who control Freddy's. I never met them personally."
"PG, those memories aren't a trap. That is your real name, your reaction says it all."
"But, what if those reaction are just there, because the memories are there?!"
"We should go and look for your brother! If he exists, your memories are real."
"I'm legally not allowed to leave this place!"
"I could do it!"
"Why would you?"
"To help you."
Simon stood up and paced around the small office. "I don't remember his name. I don't even remember my own last name! The only way I could try to remember is by screwing open my Phone-head with the thing that Dave gave me and I'm ninety percent sure that it would kill me."
"No. I disagree."
"What?!"
"Fuck, if we can give him ONE thing, then it's that he's fucking honest. He screws with us by making us think he's unreliable and uses that to give us easy solution we don't take, to make us feel useless and stupid."
"What if this time he actually just wants to kill me?"
"Why would he?"
"HE'S A PSYCHOPATH, MIKE."
"Not in that regard. He's a child, Simon."
"Great, Mike the psychologist strikes again. How'd you know?"
"Listen up, you metal cunt, if I know ONE thing, then it's how children think and act! No matter how petty, they always have an explanation for their behavior. I've had to deal with kids NONSTOP, FOR THE LAST MONTH."
"Mind to explain? You usually just stare at them from across the hall and tell them to fuck of when they come to close."
"So... this is one of my secrets." Uncomfortable Mike shifted his position. "I see dead people."
Phone Guy was sure he heard that already somewhere else. Nevermind. "It's not unheard of..."
"Well, I can't guarantee that I'm not turning slowly insane, but I'm pretty sure it's the real deal. Five children, who say that they possessed the Toy-Animatronics suddenly appeared in my flat. They asked for my help to be freed."
"What... what are their names?"
"Gary, Richard, Tom, Suzy and Sally. I don't know their last names."
"That's... them."
"You know them?"
"I had to take care of their parents. Nonstop they cried; Suzy, my little Suzy, where is she, Sally, are you sure you haven't heard of Sally, Tom was always a good boy, he would never run away..."
"Sounds awful..."
"It was. So that was what you were screaming at? The children? Are they... here...?"
"Yes."
Slightly scared Phone Guy looked around, as if he expected to see them now that he knew about them. "But they... they hear me, right?"
Mike paused and tilted his head, listening intensely. "To say it in Suzy's words: We are dead, not retarded, you stupid idiot."
"Wow, she's a charmer..."
"Always been."
"If they hear me I... I want to say sorry. I'm sorry for their deaths, I'm sorry that my foolish negligence caused them this cruel and pointless fate. I wish I could have prevented it, I wish I could at least have been the one to atone for those mistakes. But I'm happy that you found your way to Mike. You couldn't have wished for any better caretaker."
In the face of his friend was one of his rare, small, genuine smiles. "Fucking dim-wit, as if. They say thank you and want to tell you that I abused them and never bought them food and that my stories suck and that..." Mike stopped and growled suddenly embarrassed. "... And nothing. Fuck you guys."
PG snickered. "I always knew you are better with kids than you show. Telling them to fuck themselves is an underappreciated education practice."
"Well, that also was the reason I asked you to delete your PRON. Sally, the Toy Chica needed it to be freed."
"OH. Oh, I'm so sorry, Sally, I swear, I never even looked at it, it was preinstalled for some reason-"
"Shut up. Her words, not mine. I think she just wants to forget about it, she isn't mad. Now, moving on, I wanted to ask you about your "kill count", so to speak."
"Well, seeing as my memories are pretty fucked up, by design and years of abuse, I can only say... uh... I springlocked employees who talked bad about me, made puns, mentioned the incidents, yiffed the robots (if they did it in the suit) and uh... made bad music. Then of course, I regularly framed innocent and guilty Guards for whatever happened to keep the business running, I willfully ignored justice for the kids and sealed up evidence. That's just next to the fact that I hire people and basically kill them by proxy."
"You're a fucking HORRIBLE person!"
"There's a reason why I didn't want to tell you! And I even told you not to care about me."
"I guess. You... comparing you to the others employees, you're still less creepy."
"Naturally...! My turn: What's the deal with your scars?"
Now the Guard leaned back, smirking cynically. "Yeah, what's the deal? Buckle in, this is gonna be a long one. When I was eight I told the kids around me that I was bitten by Freddy. When I was fourteen I told them that I stopped a robbery and got shot, surviving barely. When I was seventeen I told them I had a sport-accident while being on a nifty vacation."
Tense Phone Guy leaned forward. "And? The truth?"
"I don't know. I think my father did it to me. Or maybe I did it to myself. It was a year after my mother was diagnosed with... a sickness. She was in the hospital for longer and longer, the bills were stacking up. Whenever I sneaked into my parent's room, there were papers EVERYWHERE, with big numbers on it. Needless to say that neither I nor my dad took it very well. I broke out of home, misbehaved and all that shit. One day I woke up in the hospital, remembering nothing, but a particularly bad day. My father refused to explain anything. Suspicious, right? Well, the thing that I was ALLOWED to know, was that whatever it was, caused serious damage to my head. I think some part of my skull broke, or something. They put me back together with screws and I think they even had to replace one of the skull-plates. Took the best professionals to not kill me."
"But... how did you pay for that?"
"Ah, I see you paid attention like you never paid alimony."
"MIKE, I LITERALLY CAN'T!"
"Answer is: I couldn't. The only reason why I'm still around, is because the award winning scientist and surgeon, Doctor Deern, choose me to be his pet-project. My father and later I agreed to test his medicine and be subject to different tests on a regular. Not that we really had a choice. These pills..." He took them out of his pocket and put them on the table. "... Aren't even proven to be safe. They aren't right out poisonous... in small dosages. He told me the medicine couldn't be tested on anything else beforehand, I was a pioneer and should be proud. Proud! What a fuckhead. But, well, I shouldn't be alive anyway. They are supposed to keep my hallucinations and anger issues under control."
"With limited success?"
"... not even." Frowning Mike inspected his bottle. "I just noticed... something. They also stop me from seeing the ghosts. That's... actually pretty odd when I think about it."
"Why...? Well, I mean, if you sometimes see things, which others can't perceive...?"
"No, I'm actually hallucinating. Really. People talking to me, being suddenly somewhere else, interacting with objects that aren't there..."
"Maybe it isn't really connected... what if it just shuts down you hyperactive senses, no matter if they show you the truth or not?"
"Maybe. Whatever, I sure ain't going to tell him next month "Doc, my prescription prevent me from seeing ghosts", or I might get send into the asylum."
"As long as it doesn't harm you...?"
"The ghosts are pretty useful, for I example I can ask them-" Mike looked around. "Wait, where the fuck did they go?!"
They left the office and entered hell.
Old Sport was dancing on one of stages, wearing a tutu and the Freddy-mask, his own animatronic on his head, carrying two torches and was howling like a maniac.
"CAUSE BABY YOU'RE A FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIREEEEEEEEEEEEEWORK! COME ON LET YOUR COLORS BURST!"
Everyone, including Mike, was paralyzed in a mixture of shock and awe. The ghost-children were whispering among each other, he was pretty sure they discussed if they were allowed to be impressed by their killer and if they could cheer or better not.
Poor Simon rushed up and tried to doge the fire. "OLD SPORT, YOU MOTHERHECKER, YOU CAN'T DO THAT! THE FIREHAZARD!"
"I AM THE FIRELORD!"
"YOU'RE GOING TO KILL US ALL!"
"IF MY GOD CHOSES TO PUNISH YOU, HE'S RIGHT! ACCEPT YOUR FATE!"
"HAND THEM OVER!"
"NEVER! WE HAVE TO CLENSE THE EVIL SPIRITS!"
"THE ONLY EVIL SPIRIT IN HERE IS YOU!"
Dave smiled, completely glad. "Phoney, calm down! You can't contain all of that talent!"
Minireena loyally jumped onto the face of the nagging man, obscuring his vision. "Get your... THING off me!"
"Excuse me, it's Alice!"
The giggling of the girl didn't stop even after Phone Guy removed her forcefully. "Would you please stop laughing, I feel like I go insane."
"You went insane a LONG time ago." Old Sport handed him the burning torches, to hug his little girl. "Come here, Alice! Let's go outside and fire some missiles! That's what you're supposed to do on New Year's right?"
"Nah, you're supposed to use lead to predict your future!" Dave pulled out a bit of it, together with a spoon and a somehow burning candle.
"Isn't that poisonous?"
"Yes."
"LET'S DO IT!"
They went into the cold night, thankfully it wasn't snowing though. Jeremy and the puppet had joined, ready to play along. Foxy also curiously peeked outside. "Arr, is it safe to go out? We won't get shot at?"
"Not today, Foxy-boy, we have free reign! Come on out, all of you! It's time to celebrate!"
Freddy immediately rushed out, "breathing" in air he hadn't smelled in twenty years. Chica and Bonnie also joined, even though Bonnie kept his distance to the puppet.
"Who wants to go first?!"
"ME! AND MINIREENA!"
They together slowly poured it into the snow on the ground. After two minutes they picked it up and looked at it.
"It looks like a dick."
Seems as if your fate wants to tell you something.
"Ah, shut it, puppet."
I'm only helping interpreting this sign.
"You go next! Let's see what fate wants to tell you!"
I don't believe in these pagan rituals.
Jeremy actually looked annoyed for the first time. "It's just harmless fun. Pull yourself together." With that he accepted the molten lead and poured it down. "Uh, it's a bird! Or a heart! No, rather a bird... or more of a hammer?"
"Maybe it's just a molten piece of lead." Finally Mike had joined the party.
"Wow, I think the dick was rather meant for you!"
Dave grinned and poured his own fate, not even paying attention to the petty fighting going on in the background. "Look, I've got a knife! But the shadow looks more like a heart... Are you supposed to listen to the lead or its shadow?"
Do you humans even know what the different motives mean?
Everyone was silent.
In that case, why are you doing this?
"To pass some time...?"
Please, let's just get to the explosions.
Old Sport crossed his arms and nodded in total agreement. "I hate that about New Years. Let's make A REALLY BIG FIRE!"
Dave just wanted to agree as he noticed something out of the corner of his eyes. "You do that, I'll be right back!"
Where are you going?
The Purple Man grinned brightly. "Follow me if you're so curious..." Vanishing at the corner into the back alley, the machine decided to leave the body shortly, to make sure. He wrapped himself safely around his friend and stepped into the darkness.
In front of William were... monster.
It were animatronics, but they...
They were disgustingly disfigured. The souls! They had teeth, their eyes glowed, tummy open, ready to swallow, all in purple, smiling, one of them was mashed together, eating itself!
What had he DONE?!
They turned. And smiled at him. "Who's that, father?"
FATHER.
"Probably the puppet. He's a curious cat!"
"C-can I EAT h-him?!" The bigger one of the merged souls opened its jaw and almost reached for him, but the smaller, crying one stopped him. "Oh no Freddy! That is BAD! We don't eat children's souls in public!"
"If you're quick enough!" Chuckling the Purple Guy petted his fur. "But don't go into the light. It's nice of you to visit me!"
"We wanted to start the first day of the brand new year together! We're a family after all."
The Marionette had seen enough. This was getting bad, no it was worse, there were no words to describe how bad this was. He needed to end this, fast.
If it wasn't too late already.
Broken souls.
Tears. There were the tears again.
Jeremy! Jeremy, Jeremy! We have to leave!
"What...? What happened?"
We have to get to the office, NOW.
"Okay, okay!" Ignored by the others, they vanished back inside. "Could you explain to me what the problem is?"
We have to free the others. Now. No revenge plan and as quickly as possible! They will be turned!
"No worry! I'll help you! As long as you don't want to kill someone!"
No killing! Believe me! We have to burn this place to the ground! That is the only way to free them! Their bodies keep them attached, without it they will be able to leave!
"It's that easy...? I will do it! As long as no one is inside of the building. But I thought we'd need the names of the kids and right now I'm not sure yet..."
The puppet clutched his claws trying not to scream. It would be better that way, maybe they would even find a way to burn the monster alongside the children. There was simply no way in hell the sickness would seep into the cracks this quickly. But what if he was wrong?
"Marion, let's enjoy the evening for now. I'm sure they will like to see the show!"
Defeated the machine calmed himself, trying not to freak out. There was simply no way William would just begin to kill everyone for no reason, right? And if... he wasn't a kid anymore. He had his own tools to fight with.
"QUICK, JEREMY, COME OUT HERE! WE'RE GONNA SUMMON SATAN!"
"Don't do that!" Shocked Jeremy left his friend and ran into the kid's cove, where everything was set up by Dave and Old Sport. "That's BAD!"
"No it isn't! Satan is only a fallen angle, no big deal! It's Mike birthday, we have to come up with something GREAT! Mike likes the edgy stuff, he'll be amazed! This is his kind of party!"
Jeremy crocked his head, not really believing it. "Mike's birthday...?"
"If something goes wrong, we'll just push him RIGHT BACK! Hundred percent guaranteed maybe safety! Or do you want to tell Mike you forgot his special day? If he knew you could have decided between summoning Satan and apologizing to him..."
They boy frowned, but took the offered hands. "That in the middle...?" He recognized the black candles, the goat skulls and the signs, but the thing in the middle looked weird.
"It's a pentagram drawn with strawberry jam and memes."
And truthfully, it smelled sweet, was sticky and spelled things like "here comes dat boi satan!" or "summons satan to wish for domination of the planet in 2006 – dominates pluto"
Were these... considered memes?
They began chanting in an odd language, but Phone Guy materialized out of nothing, together with Mike.
"NO SUMMONING SATAN BETWEEN MONDAYS TO SATURDAYS!" Righteous Phone Guy slapped both members of the chaotic duo on the back of their heads. Mike first nodded fiercely, but then processed what he just had heard.
"Wait, you want to fucking say there's a rule for this shit?!"
"Well, of course, we can't let our employees summon Satan any day of the week!"
"WE CAN'T LET ANY-FUCKING-ONE SUMMON THAT DEVIL-FUCK AT ANY DAY OF THE YEAR!"
"Yes. That's why only Sun- and celebration days are allowed."
"But doesn't that mean that he is actually allowed to do it right now?!"
"No, since celebration days that are to be spent in the pizzeria are an exception."
"So, on a Sunday he could just wander in...?"
"How do you think he is able to enter the establishment? Answer: He isn't. Problem solved!"
A cracking noise sounded and out of the small circle that emitted an aggressive red glow now, coming from a gap in reality. The young boy appeared quite unsure, while the Psychos grinned.
Dave began screaming as loud as he could. "OH DARK ONE, LET THERE BE YOU'RE MIGHTY GLOW, TO BRING ME BACK WHAT'S MINE! I DEMAND BY ALL FIVE OF THE HORSEMEN, THE SHADOW DOGGO AND THE THIRTEEN RARE PEPES THE ETERNAL EXISTENCE OF MY CREATION AND-"
That was the last part, because Mike had shoved him right into the dimensional crack.
Jeremy looked at him with his confused puppy-eyes. Puppy-sign?
"Happy Birthday...?"
"The fuck?"
"Dave told me we would prepare a birthday surprise for you, since we both forget that today is the day... I'm very sorry!"
"FOR FUCKS SAKE JERRY, DOES THIS-" He flailed his arms at the skull and blood "- LOOK LIKE A BIRTHDAY PARTY TO YOU?!"
"W-well, you ARE into edgy things..."
"THERE IS A BLOODY LINE BETWEEN EDGY AND FUCKING SATANIC!"
"Hah, literally!" Old Sport snickered.
"For Foxy's sake-" Phone Guy stomped his foot. "Where is he?! And will he clean that mess up himself?!" He looked at the unholy mess on the floor, the skulls and candles ruining the clean ground.
"I kinda pushed him into hell."
"Oh. Well, nothing to worry about, I'm sure he will be fine. Jeremy! Since you obviously helped him, you will have to clean up all the candles! Same for you, Old Sport!"
"Y-yes, sir!" Poor Jeremy was confused beyond belief. "Did we... actually open a portal?"
"It's New Year! The realms connect at these spots... neat, right?"
"Did we kill Dave?!"
"Oh no, I'm sure he has fun." Old Sport was humming and cleaning the spots that needed care, not irritated in the slightest.
After they finished, they were allowed to attend a short celebration of Dave's "first day away" as they called it. Old Sport didn't appear to enjoy it particularly, but accepted his glass.
Right as they took their first sip of the champagne, the entranced opened. In there was a well-dressed man in a suit, with the Purple Guy over his shoulder.
His gaze lied disapprovingly on Mike.
"I hereby return your worker to his rightful place. I will strongly advise to not ever bring him anywhere close to my property, since the next time it will be seen as a deliberate attempt of sabotage and accordingly punished."
With those words he dropped him off and turned into dust.
First they just stared at the slowly standing up man, then at each other and at last started to surround him. Right before Phone Guy wanted to touch him, Old Sport jumped on top of his friend, probably breaking his back.
"HOW WAS YOUR FIRST LEGAL VACATION EVER?! I'M SO JEALOUS!"
"It was great, Old Sport! I managed to eat three demons and almost bathed in the Styx! But as I started to strip for the succubois, I was thrown out."
"Aww, sound like Vegas! Too bad I couldn't touch the portal quick enough..."
"Next year we'll go together!
If Mike's disapproval had physical weight, the X-men would call and ask him to join, because of this magical ability. They'd all be dead as well, because the weight would create a black hole and end the whole universe.
"I wish you were tortured beyond insanity. Never fucking tell Jerry lies again."
"Don't blame me! You never told me your birthday and since you had to have your birthday ONE day this year, we chose to just celebrate it now! I even made you a cake!"
"As if I'd eat anything you made."
"That's one hell of an insult! The kids LOVE my cakes!" Shrugging Dave picked up the cake he had hidden under a stack of party hats. It was a giant cake, still warm enough to make the icing on top of it melt a bit. There were letters, made out of marzipan, which spelled out 'one year closer to death!'
Jeremy immediately went up. "Can I have a piece?! Please?"
Smugly grinning at the uncomfortable Marionette, who had just floated in, the Purple Guard cut a piece of and handed it over to the drooling boy, who laughed brightly and bit into it without hesitation.
"IT'S GREAT!" Was what Jeremy probably wanted to say, but it was muffled into an "IWTSWAT!"
Dave understood him anyway, smiling prideful. "Well, I've been working on these skills since I were nine! If I brought cake to school, I could bribe the other kids into playing with me. When I think about it, it hasn't really changed since then."
"Waifu material, right there!" The words were on a thin line between joking and full on sarcastic, as Old Sport grabbed himself a slice to bite into.
As even PG grabbed one, Mike growled. "So, you're all just gonna trust him like that? He could drug us!"
"Why?" The honest tone of Purple Guy's voice set off the Guard's balance. "Why would I?"
"Because it's fun?! Good god... alright, yeah, fuck you, let's do this. Sit down here, fucker, we're going to discuss this. WHY would you do that? WHY for example, hypothetically, not that I EVER would think that of you, but WHY would you kill children you fucked up piece of shit?"
The smile of the psychopath brightened again. "Oho, I think I feel some hostility! Back me up on this one, Alice! Why would ANYONE chose to EVER end a child's... existence?"
Giggling and twirling, the small ballerina climbed off Old Sport and on the table, posing gracefully.
"That's a good argument, Alice! Thanks for the support!"
Yet, before the Minireena could retreat, Mike grabbed her fragile body. "You can't let him get away with this! This isn't your body, this isn't your family or friends, you have to fight-"
All of a sudden he felt sharp teeth sinking into his flesh, despite the animatronic not even moving, and flinched. The light flickered around him.
In the dark he could see her.
A small girl, skin like porcelain, her tutu still intact, glass-like butterfly wings out of her back. Her face was the same shade of porcelain and looked plain dead, her golden locks rivaling with the golden glow in her otherwise black eyes.
They were just as cold and artificial as the rest of her.
She tilted her head and smiled an empty smile. Silence was crushing his ears until her little, thin voice broke it for a moment.
"Why? This is me."
A hurricane of sound flooded his mind, words screamed and whispered and asked and begged and laughed and cried and all that was left it's me, me, me, why is it me, me, why WHY WHYISME IT'SMEWHYWHYWHYWHYMEMEMEMEME!
He reopened his eyes, laying on the floor, Jeremy's and PG's worried face hovering around the corner of his vision.
In some distance he could make out Orange lecturing his kid. "Don't just make Mikey spasm out! That's dangerous! You're supposed to behave when I take you outside!"
She really pulled of the "I'm guilty and somewhat sorry, but in the end it was pretty fun, right?" laugh.
Whatever that was what he had seen... it was more than a kid and less than a human.
"Mike, please, do you hear me?!"
"Fucking Phone-face, I'm not deaf!"
Relieved his friend helped him up, tightening his grip for a second, before letting him go. "What happened?"
"I'll tell you... later. It's complicated." Restless Mike stood up and checked his surroundings, which haven't changed much. Determined he grabbed himself a slice of cake and walked out. "We'll see us in a minute, I'm off."
The shot and explosions were yet to start, but the anticipation had filled the night air. It was time.
"Gary." As soon as they were out of earshot, the Guard spoke. "We will get you out of here, before this year ends."
"U-uhm... how?"
"You tell me! I have cake in case you want to celebrate something! Anyway, I won't let you roam around this place, while that thing is here, this went on for long enough."
Helpless the boy fumbled with his mask. "The problem is... I want to hear how my parents are. But the others told me that it's bad to think about my... previous existence. Still, I can't get them out of my head! My mother, my father, my little sister..."
While Mike couldn't really understand his feelings, he still had an idea. "How about I call them? What's the number of your home?"
"I never could remember..."
"For fuck's sake, Gary, get your shit together."
"I'm sorry..."
"Well, I'll ask Simon, he should still know it, after all they were in... contact."
But before he could stand back up, the Phone-head wandered in. "Are you..."
"Ah, there you are. Do you still have the number of Gary's parents?"
"Why...?"
"I need to talk with them. Now."
"Mind to explain anything? What was that just now?!"
"Something is wrong with Orange's little puppet, but that isn't the first thing I have to deal with. I'm so close to get rid- I mean free the souls of the children that were inside of the Toys. I only need to talk with Gary's family."
Unsure his friend leaned over the computer, checking through some files. "Usually... we delete those numbers after closing down the establishment..."
"Oh."
"But..." Some more clicks. "Maybe..."
The pause stretched into eternity until Mike couldn't wait any longer. "But?! But the fuck?! TELL ME!"
The shoulder of the man sunk down. "No... there's no more information on them. I don't even remember their last names."
"HOW?! IT WAS JUST-"
"Phone Guys aren't supposed to dwell on the past. They take those "useless" memories and wipe them. It's to save dataspace. The only reason I remember their actual names is just because I've couldn't sleep for one night without thinking about them..."
"The names of dead children and their families. Useless. This place is rotten to the core."
Sincerely depressed Simon sat down next to him, mirroring Gary's posture to a T, despite not being able to see him.
Mike clutched his fists, getting angrier and angrier by the hopeless atmosphere. "Stop whining, you little bitches, we're going to find a way! For one; there have to be articles about that, children don't just vanish without anyone caring. California, missing children, November 1987. Put that into the search-engine, PG, or I'll do it myself and that could result in the computer getting damaged."
Surprised Phone Guy began tipping again, getting a result in no time.
Gary Baker, nine years old. A lively smiling boy, with fluffy brown hair and brown eyes, the picture was a little blurred since the kid couldn't sit still.
Gary smiled sadly as he saw that name and picture. "Yeah... that's me. We came for a vacation, visiting a relative... I wanted to visit Freddy's, since we don't have them in Britain.... I nagged them for days. Let us go there! It's brand new!"
Tears dripped down the mask.
Phone Guy, who couldn't see the kid, watched Mike's expression change as he looked at something invisible. He carelessly sat down next to PG and began clicking around on the computer.
But then he stopped again, growling. "I don't like your fucking attitude. Where's the fucking problem?!"
Tapping again, Mike paused, listening. "Well, your decision, but you better a-fucking-nother solution for your freedom. It's been long enough!"
It was irritating, to say the least, how naturally Mike interacted with air, as if... well, for him there most likely was normal. For him there was more than air.
"Do you at least want some cake?"
If he'd think about it, it was pretty f—hecked up to give the cake his murderer made to the dead kid... but who cared anyway? At this point nothing gosh darn mattered.
No, no, no, keep your spirit up! You're the Phone Guy, ring, ring! Think of something!
"Hey, how about we... we could set of some smaller fireworks in preparation? Or..."
"Or let's fucking KILL someone. That's what it always ends up to be anyway." Afterwards he made a waving motion towards the space next to him. "ARGH... SHUT UP! It was a fucking joke! Yeah, come on Simon, let's burn something down."
Before the boss could intervene, Mike had left.
Fire.
The Phone Guy liked fire and hated it the same.
What do you KNOW?
His duality would be his end. He knew that at least.
Silently he sat down in front of the computer. A new year was close, a new start began. Begin with the beginnings and ask yourself what do you know?
Well, he knew that the robots were possessed. Actually, basically every animatronic of this franchise was getting possessed, sooner rather than later.
This couldn't be a coincidence anymore.
And no, just saying that simply because they were killed here made them possess the machines wasn't enough. That doesn't usually happen!
William Afton and Henry Miller, two brilliant young minds decide to open an establishment, despite them having potential for so much more. After all, Miller brought the abilities of metal into the public eye and worked endlessly on the potential use. If you nowadays lost an arm and got a mechanical replacement, you could almost not feel the difference.
Even people who lost their head could be recovered under the right circumstances, saving personality and most memoires.
So... why opening a children's restaurant?!
If metal could replace a head... a brain...
Shivering and sweating, Phone Guy powered down the computer. Someone was watching him. Someone KNEW what he was thinking. Someone...
"Heya, Phoney! Wanna come out?" Dave smiled at him, as he jerked up.
"Y-yes, I was just... checking something..."
Almost sympathetic, his co-worker helped him up from his chair. "Why are you worrying so much? I already told you I'm on your side, so you can't actually lose! I will keep this place safe."
"Excuse me when I say that I would feel much safer I you simply wouldn't be here..."
"You're excused. But you're pretty wrong with your statement."
They exited the office. "Dave... or Vincent, or whatever. What... what are you doing here? What do you want from this job? You work for TOKENS."
"I signed the red contract."
"What is your real name?" The words slipped out, just like that.
"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me!" Laughing the Purple Guy slapped his back. "You're a curious Phone, aren't you? Well, you know, curiosity killed the cat, but the marionette brought it back! Continue your way and you may even manage to surprise me one day. Just..." His voice lowered, not particularly threatening, rather... well-meaning. "... play fair, alright? It's all fun and games, until someone tries to break the peace and I DON'T want that. I'm happy! I want to spend the next year with Old Sport, you, Mike and of course Jeremy! It could be nice. Don't ruin it by thinking you have to act on uncertain assumptions."
Humming the man let him go and ran towards the exit, where animatronics and humans were roasting marshmallows together, chattering quite friendly.
Dave threw himself on the spot next to Old Sport and stole the freshly roasted sweet, by biting it off, right as the guy wanted to eat it himself. Slowly Old Sport laid an arm around his friend, pulling him face to face.
"I'm THIS close to shoving you into the fire."
"No you're not~"
"Oh, you doubt me?!" Pouting, more jokingly than anything else, Old Sport put more marshmallows onto his stick and held them over the fire. Dave did the same. They waited in silence until they were molten and brown and the Orange Guy slowly tugged them back out. Of course, Dave made his move as swiftly as ever, but he didn't expect to get the whole stick shoved down his throat. Howling he jerked back.
"Old Sport! You burned my throat! OW!" Accusingly staring at his friend with betrayal in his eyes, he rubbed the hurt area.
"Pff... that was worth my two marshmallows!" Snickering the man leaned back to the package, but stopped as Dave shoved his own prepared treat towards his face. They looked at each other resentful.
"Now you're just making me feel bad!"
"Just accept it, Old Sport." Now a smile was back on his face. "I'm the better person after all."
"Screw you, you son of an aubergine." And with that he nibbled the sweet away.
"For you anytime, my-"
"GET A FUCKING ROOM YOU TWO, THERE A PEOPLE TRYING TO RELAX HERE!" Mike's stare promised no quick death. "AND I MEAN A LITERAL FUCKING ROOM, WHERE YOU GUYS CAN FUCK, SO I DON'T HAVE TO FUCKING WATCH YOUR SICKENING INTERACTIONS ANYMORE."
Jeremy raised a brow. "But... isn't it nice that they get along? It's better than everybody fighting..."
"I'd prefer the fucking fighting any day of the piece of shit year that will follow!"
The smile of his younger co-worker hadn't faded, but the puppet had assumed a more hostile position, staring him down. "You don't need to angry, Mike, you'll find someone special soon! In the meantime, we can share our sweets if you want!"
He groaned. "It isn't... about the marshmallows... argh, whatever. Are the explosives ready?"
Old Sport beamed. "YES! ALL FIVE HUNDRED OF THEM!"
"That's a little... excessive..." Phone Guy apprehensive glanced at the giant stack in the corner, but the three pairs of disappointed eyes (counting only the human ones) aimed at him stopped him from furthering the conversation.
All together they set up for midnight, getting caught up in a discussion about if Old Sport could shoot Minireena into the sky with a firework and if underwear would be sufficient as parachute. The Purple Guy went around handing everyone twelve grapes.
"It's a New Year's tradition in Spain, I think. Eat one for every ring of the bell and make a wish, so it'll come true in the next year. No worries, by the way, these are seedless grapes!"
"Oh that sure is GRAPE news!" Old Sport violently wiggled his eyebrows. Phone Guy was raising his index finger, ready to lecture him on how awful he was, before Mike interrupted him.
"This a tradition that surely GRAPES everyone's attention right away." He high-fived with Old Sport, wearing some sort of guilty satisfaction as expression.
Phone Guy tried his best to keep his screams internal, Jeremy and Dave grinned and the puppet shook his whole body, turning towards the manager.
Screw putting the small ballerina onto a firework, can't we send off these two?
"I wish. I wish so much."
Smiling cunningly, Old Sport leaned over to Phoney. "In the good old days, puns were PUNishable with death... what changed your mind, hmmm Phoney? Surely not that you LIK-"
"SHUT! IT! I might change my mind!"
"Owwwwww, Phoney's getting RUUUUUDE!"
Now the murderous duo high-fived each other as the poor man began to make error-noises out of stress. Mike couldn't help but smile slightly as well. Quickly he turned to the other side, so they wouldn't get any wrong impression of him.
"Two minutes 'till midnight!" Jeremy squeaked and got his grapes ready, holding half of them up to Marion, who declined. They got in a good position to see the night sky, standing next to the animatronics who had watched the sky for hours already, seemingly not getting enough.
The most unfriendly of the guards went over to his friend and patted his head gently, before sitting back down with him, getting ready to activate their own fireworks.
With the sound of the bell they ate their grapes and wished their hearts out. Everyone, even Mike who thought it was silly, closed their eyes.
Orange Guy who was finished first, snatched the lighter out of Phoney's hand and activated as many fuses as possible. Howling euphoric he tried to be louder than the explosions in the sky and fell around Dave's neck afterwards. "HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
Dave picked him up and twirled him around and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "The happiest of happy New Years to the loveliest human existing~!"
It was hard to see in the dark, but Dave could have sworn that his friend's face was glowing red. Oh, how he hoped for it to be the case...
Jeremy hugged the puppet tightly, smiling as bright as the glowing sky. "Happy New Year, Marion! Let's make this year the best of our—existence!"
Happy New Year, Jeremy. It took me far too long to find you.
They both were surprised as Old Sport joined the hug. "HAPPY NEW YEAR, YOU BEAUTIFUL CHILD-MINDS! STAY THE WAY YOU ARE!"
"Happy New Year, Old Sport! It's so nice that you're part of our place!"
Orange Guy didn't even bothered waiting for the puppets response and attacked the last two guys. Mike was using Phoney as a meat-shield. "Take him, not me."
Defeated Phone Guy allowed his unsettling co-worker to wrap his arms around him, as he only patted his back. "Happy New Year, employee. Don't... uh... just keep it happy, alright?"
"Yessir! Happy New Year!"
Dave had set off the next wave of fireworks, laughing. "GET THIS YOU COMMUNI-"
Jeremy had hugged him and laughed as well, while the Marionette only snarled. "Happy New Year, Dave! You were great last year, I can't wait to see what you'll do this year!"
"Same for you, kiddo! Never vanish, we need you here!"
"What could happen to me! I have great friends, work a great job and all in all never been happier before! There's no way I would ever go away from here!"
Phone Guy smiled bittersweet as he overheard these words. Mike slowly got back out of his hiding spot, staying close to his partner.
"Happy New Years. All of you." Shortly he paused, reddened a little and turned towards PG "And especially you Simon. You grew as person, at least it feels like it, so... we're going to... we'll start this year together and stay like that until we both achieved our dreams."
Surprised and somewhat flattered, the man laughed. "That... could take a long time."
"I'm fine with that."
Fairly awkward they now stood next to each other, both with hot cheeks, until Phone Guy pulled Mike into a sincere hug. "Happy New Year, Mike. I've never been excited for a new year before."
After a heartbeat, Mike hugged him back shortly and pushed him away. "Personal space, for fuck's sake..."
If Simon still had a normal face, the grin on top of it could have rivaled Dave's. Now he simply glowed out of the dial like a torch.
Purple Guy nudged Old Sport and signed towards them. "WHO'S NOW SUPPOSED TO GET A ROOM?!"
But that couldn't ruin Phoney's mood anymore. "IF YOU MEAN BY THAT TO GO BACK INSIDE, THEN ALL OF US, AFTER ALL IT'S TIME FOR A NEW YEAR'S GAME!" Humming to himself, the man reentered the establishment, waving the animatronics to come along.
They played until next morning, but after Old Sport summoned Exodia while playing monopoly, Freddy began screeching without pause and Dave trying to force Mike to participate in a competition to stuff his face with hundred grapes at the same time to look who managed to eat more, they decided to go home for today and rest up. It was a new day after all.

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A/N:
Doctor Deern is called like that as a reference to Fran Bow and because I absolutely hate making names up. Speaking of! I googled American last names and BOI, are they weird! Noble? Mclean? MCCALL (totally Simon's last name, it fits too perfectly)? BEST? V I N C E N T? It's kinda funny and kinda weird...
And yes, I reminded myself that Gary is a happy little British boy and changed the name I picked! :33
Fun fact: All puns are made up on the spot, spontaneously, to achieve the maximum cringe – you're welcome. Have yet to ever google specific puns for the story and I don't know if I should be proud or ashamed...
FOR ALL OF YOU! I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT NEW YEAR'S! VIRTUAL HUGS FROM ME TO YOU! No matter how you choose to spend it, with family, friends or just relaxing on your own, I hope you're happy and have a positive following year! My wish for New Year is that more people would write Old Sport/Dave! (please, I'm addicted, I NEED THIS, why isn't there more out yet?!)
Really, if you ever considered writing or creating in general... JUST DO IT! The internet is not all that cruel, as long as you try! (Or maybe I was just very lucky...)
Writing this story is amazing, encouraging and fun, thanks to your kind words! THANK YOU ALL!