A Guard's life

Fallout

A/N: I think we would be better off if I mention it's beta'd instead of that it isn't. Hah. I hope all my previous beta readers are doing fine, I miss each of them ;U;

-

On some days it didn't occur to Simon how terrifying his situation was, quite sincerely.
Now, kneeling in a pool of blood, scrubbing away, he thought of how weirdly normal this situation was to him. How often he had to scrub away blood from places for some reason or another.
Then he thought of the fact that the memories potentially not be his own, but of some other poor phone-fool how owned this head before him.
Quickly he forced himself to stop though, questions like these only lead to him feel uncomfortable with his head, making him start to scratch over it, trying to get rid of an itch that he knew solely existed in his mind and nowhere else.
His head would start to feel heavy and clunky, burning at the point where steel merged with flesh, making him almost wonder if it would be worth it to try and tear it off in order to never feel this awful sensation ever again.
All just because of a puddle of blood vanishing in his rag.
When Old Sport's voice sounded behind him, it was almost a mercy.
"So... what will you tell the Marionette?" The man was leaning against the doorframe, his voice distant.
"To stay in his lane." Simon forced his voice to stay calm, even as the panic bubbled up inside of him. In typical Freddy's fashion, solving one problem lead to three others, which was exactly WHY everyone tended to try and IGNORE issues instead of solving them. "What can he even do? Jeremy is still around after all..."
"Are you threatening Jeremy?" This was appalling to the man and he made that clear in his tone, causing Simon to go back onto the defenses.
"No, no- I would NEVER." Both of them knew that was a lie. Or at least seriously doubted it. "But that doesn't mean that Jeremy doesn't have the habit to get himself in trouble. If the Puppet causes a fuzz, Jeremy will react and nobody here knows in which way. It'd be stupid and unnecessary to endanger him for someone who's already dead anyways."
What worried him much more was what to do with the robots.
There were few options to be honest- aside from the stalling for time, a given for his situation.
The robots would probably end up attacking him. It was already uncomfortable enough when he stayed at home and Ethan shortly left- the animatronics became more and more twitchy and restless, wandering around and eyeing him in a... questionable manner.
He wondered how much of the AI was left in the bots, or if this was simply the children acting on their own accord.
If he wanted to do nothing, he could ask Mike if he could move in with him, living at his place.
...
Quietly he coughed to himself.
Alternatively, he could ask the chaos duo to get rid of them.
That would feel too cruel though, not to mention he would owe them ANOTHER favor after that. Sure, they were murderous monsters, but it wasn't like they had the choice to be. He wished Ethan would have just taken what he could and left, never to be seen again. Heck, if he would have asked, he would have helped him find a way to transport the robots.
So, asking these two wasn't an option either, or at least not one Simon wanted to make. He already took something from them, more than enough, he would not add insult to injury if he could avoid it.
... there was the factory. But there was a fair chance that he would have to explain why he only now informed them of the animatronics they weren't using anymore. That would look bad on his file- and he had already come rather close to being taken out of order once. He'd rather not test their patience again.
What's left?
Well, he could attempt to get them into a storage facility by himself. There were plenty around, they were almost as common as Freddy's itself- though he wasn't sure where the nearest was.
Hm. He could potentially trick them.
It was cruel too, without question... but something had to be done before they would run into the city and destroy everyone there. That would probably lead to a scandal.
Probably.
Once the Freddy chaos left Freddy's, that was when people started having issues- most of the time.
It was hard to predict.
This was a good option- he might be able to check on the locations of the facilities without seeming suspicious, and he probably could lure them there with a few well-placed lies. Not even lies, they would be half-truths at most!
Though, he wouldn't do this alone- doing things alone was him a bit too risky.
Who should he ask?
Mike?
How would he justify to him to lie to the animatronics?
Not that Mike was a moral guardian of any kind, he probably COULD make him understand, if he told him that he had no idea what happened to Ethan...
No matter what, he would be forced to lie to him. It was hard to go "oh, yeah, I killed that guy because I need to protect Freddy's, to protect all of us."
Mike would go HAYWIRE. At least his instincts told him that. Perhaps he would forgive him, but-
You don't forget things like that.
And Mike would probably have the nerve to argue that they should have let him close down this Freddy's and go on the run, escape the factory and all that nonsense.
Hah. As if they would be able to.
He might not have a bomb build into his head (yet), but there were only few people able to ignore a giant red rotary phone when it sat upon a human body. People would talk.
Sure, he could- and probably would have to- lie to Mike about what happened to the detective. But it would probably bother Mike to see them being moved away.
Locked into a dark cellar.
All he needed was someone who didn't ask question for five minutes.
Shortly he looked up again. "Old Sport, d-"
But the man was already gone.
Well, "already". Phone Guy had been spacing out for quite a while now.
Darn.
He meant to talk to him shortly after this favor-
Whatever, he would have time for that later.
Hopefully.
Who knew what the Orange Guy was up to.
Turns out, not much.
Tired and dazed the Orange Guy sat at one of the empty tables, rolling around the unnatural tool, not really willing to touch it, but the buzzing nothingness in his head pushed him to do it again and again, watching it, as it rolled around.
Lately it was just going up and down, wasn't it?
A few steps sounded and out of the corner of his eyes he saw a line of purple.
He couldn't bring himself to say anything.
It was quiet for a moment.
"Old Sport?" Dave's voice was hesitant. "Mind if I sit with ya for a minute?"
"Since when do you ask about stuff like this?" Finally he managed to look up into Dave's worried face, which quickly turned into a smile as their eyes met.
"You're right, Sportsy!" A bit more cheerful he sat down, his eyes burning into the other man. "Baby's a bit shaken still! It was a whole new experience. You ain't mad at her, right?"
"Hm? Why would I be?" His head hurt, but he tried to smile. It was all getting increasingly fuzzier at the minute.
"... I dunno. You didn't seem to be doin' all that well." Uncertain Dave inched closer, continuing to watch him as he quieted down once more.
Their breathing was the loudest noise in the whole room.
Old Sport closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.
It wasn't that he didn't notice something was off with him.
It was as if something inside of him switch on and off again. Electricity through his veins, as though he was a machine himself.
The feeling was exciting, terrifying and strange, or at least it felt like it as it paralyzed his mind and slowed it all down, making him more of an observer to the actions he started to take.
But as soon as he snapped out of it, guilt and an odd feeling of dread took over, making him question what he did and if it even had been himself. Details got blurred.
It wasn't right and he knew it.
"Dave? Is there something... wrong with me?" It felt ridiculous to ask him. What would he know, as an outsider?
"... not gonna lie, ya scare me a bit lately, Old Sport." Quietly the answer came, so untypical for Dave.
In sudden black despair the Orange Guy rested his head in his hands. "I have no idea what's going on with me, Dave."
Again, silence.
Then warmth.
Surprised Old Sport looked up, a bit difficult now that Dave was resting halfway on him.
"Everythin' will be okay, Sportsy. There ain't nothin' that can separate us!" Giving him the best Puppy-dog eyes, Dave smiled sweetly, managing to get his friend to chuckle a bit.
"That was a double negative Dave. That means that there IS something that could take us apart!"
Pouting the Aubergine tried again. "There ain't nothin' that can't separate us!"
"How about you stick to "there is nothing that can separate us?""
"But that's how borin' people say it! Usin' three negatives shows I'm very smart!" Proudly he grinned. "Wouldn'tn't you disagree?"
"Please for the love of god, STOP." Despite his word having a lightly pleading tone, on his face finally a smile had appeared.
"There we go, that's the Old Sport I love 'n cherish!" Cuddling more into him, resulting in them both lying halfway squished on the table, Dave showed his enthusiasm.
With an insulted noise, Old Sport tried to crawl away, a bad decision, because as soon as he was more on the table than under Dave, Dave followed, causing the table to tumble over, leaving both of them on the ground.
A harsh sting flashed through Old Sport's back and the hand on his face didn't help either, but he realized he felt a bit better now. Wrestling with the disorientated Dave to sit up, he quickly check around for the syringe-esque machine, just to ensure it was nowhere near him.
It lied somewhere in the distance, the middle part that had appeared to be glass not damaged in the slightest. It was probably something else then... he would have to put that thing away-
Suddenly he felt a small, warm pressure of lips on his cheek and snapped around to see Dave grinning a few inches away from him.
"Sportsy, quit gettin' distracted! You'll just be moody all again!"
This sudden amount of closeness made Old Sport grew flustered, once more he tried to crawl away from his Purple Friend and his bright, earnest and downright disarming eyes. "D-Don't just sneak up on me like that!"
"Sneak?! Sportsy, ya really ARE off today! I was right next to ya the whole damn time!" His grin stuck firmly in place, as he stood up and offered his hand to his Orange Buddy. As soon as said hand was grabbed though, the guy dragged him up with an expectant strength and held him up. "What'cha even thinkin' about Sportsy?! Tell me!"
Like a wet towel he hung in Dave's hands, looking mildly disgruntled at the guy. "I'm trying to understand what's going inside my mind. I don't want to scare you. That's not me."
"I know it ain't you. We all do." The Purple Guy held him. "But that doesn't mean you ain't still there, deep down under- whatever is happenin' at the moment. And that you won't ever be leavin'! I know ya will come back to your sense eventually, no matter how bad it looks at any given time! So no matter what, I'll be here with ya. Purple and Orange, forever together!"
"... together forever." Old Sport smiled again.
"What I said! Glad ya agree!" With that he hugged him tightly and smiled sweetly as the gesture was reciprocated.
Much to Dave's disappointed, their relaxed quiet time was interrupted as the door opened and Jeremy entered, the Puppet leaning on him almost, seeming upset.
Their eyes met and Dave smile simply widened.
"'ello Pupper 'n Jerry! How's it goin'?"
Jeremy's face made it seem as though his friend's mood had infected him, with his expression being more confused-worried, than angry-worried. When he saw his two friends cuddling though, he at least attempted a smile.
"Hey! We, uh... we're fine... I think." A soft sigh accompanied it.
The Marionette didn't let his eyes waver for one moment, firmly fixated on the psychotic duo, anger clear visible. If it could it would probably attacked them right away, but it was obvious it would lead to nothing useful for anyone.
Not yet, at least.
A more tense voice joined the conversation- if you could even call it that.
"Ah- uh- Marionette... we, uh... we have to talk." As soon as he had caught wind of Jeremy having arrived, he had hasted into the main dining hall.
Gotta ensure the menacing machine wasn't flying off the handle, right?
Jeremy dropped the somewhat forced smile to now fully embrace the worry he was feeling. "D-Did something bad happen-?"
"Oh- oh no, don't, uh- don't worry. Jeremy, would you be a dear and quickly check if all the doors are open- or closed, depending on what they should be?" Kindly Simon requested, waiting for Jeremy to overcome his hesitation and Marion to release the boy from his clutches.
The machine floated over towards him, filling Simon with an ill feeling in the stomach. It was easy to forget when he was hiding inside the bag or generally standing next to Jeremy, but this creature was... wrong.
The way it moved through air like it was water was just... uncomfortable. Slow and unsteady, the legs useless, the body too bendable, too pliant for the humanoid body it tried to emulate.
It towered over him, staring down with its dead, plastic mask, the anger not visible, but palpable in the stare it gave him.
He simply signed him to follow, not sure if this would be his end. There was the HOPE that the Marionette wouldn't have a fit of rage for the sake of Jeremy, but nothing was guaranteeing it.
Nothing was guaranteeing that they wouldn't eradicated by a meteor or some eldritch abomination for their sins, so why even worry about this.
They entered the office, the doors stayed open, for both of their comfort.
The Puppet didn't waste any time. "What did you DO?"
"What were YOU trying to do?" Simon shot back, crossing his arms.
"So it WAS you."
"Do you really think someone trying to burn down the restaurant would simply get past me? Granted, it wasn't actually me, but like hell I will be upset about someone who wanted to get me killed dying." He couldn't help that little lie.
"It did-"
But he wasn't having any of it. "No. Now listen to me Marionette, listen to me carefully. Ethan is dead. Shouldn't bother you, you have plenty of dead adults on your conscious already. But, before you do anything stupid, remember; Jeremy is still around. Don't drag him into this, neither of us WANTS that, even if I WILL fire him and lock you back into your box if I have to. There is nothing stopping me from this aside from me liking Jeremy and wanting to be kind. You have gotten NOWHERE and you will reach NOTHING except breaking Jerry's heart. You gambled, you lost, now you better be a good loser and play nice."
"How DARE you talking like that to-"
"We will have a lot of problems coming up. Potentially. Someone needs to get the animatronics into a safe place, you know? Will you-" But he got interrupted.
"I won't help you with anything." The Marionette hissed.
Without missing a beat he continued. "-do it? Or will you let your spite get the better of you and do what's worse for them by leaving them out in the open, where they might wander into the city and will- who knows what. Probably get incinerated or something. If you'd like to help me prevent that, then you'd lead them and calm them down. You care about them, right? Or are they nothing but cannon fodder for you?"
The Marionette finally was quiet.
Simon continued, even bolder than before. "I don't want them to be caught in the crossfire either. Just like Jeremy. You kept them here, you owe it to them to make sure they are somewhat safe."
"... they will not go anywhere when they found out what you did."
"What WE did. If you wouldn't have gotten involved, nobody have done something so drastic- neither Ethan nor Dave and Old Sport."
"No. No, you can't guilt me into this, I won't-"
"Okay. I don't care what you do. But the kids need help... any sort of help. I think it would be better if we would convince them instead of me having to use force at worst. You would make convincing them much easier."
It was quiet for a minute.
Marion stepped back.
"I- I will talk to you about it later. I need to clear my head."
Looking at him now, he seemed much less intimidating.
More pitiable.
Maybe he should feel more sympathy for this old, entrapped soul.
But this was too important to let pity take over, pity could become a dangerous flaw.
The Puppet had already left through the door, as he called after him. "Don't take too long, they will ask for Mr. Cross and I don't want to tell them anything that could ruin this!"
He wasn't sure if the animatronic heard it, but he was certain the machine was aware of it anyways. How couldn't you be?
With a sigh he turned to the monitors, trying to get his mind back on track for his day job. There was so much to do, the daily routine as well as having to talk to Mike and-
"S-sir?! What- what will you have to tell the animatronics...?"
Jumping a bit Simon turned around to see Jeremy.
Oh gosh darnit.
"A-ah. Jeremy. I- uh- wanted to talk to you about it anyways. The thing you asked about with, uh- Mr. Cross? It, uh- escalated a bit."
"Escalated- what happened?!" Jeremy asked, a little panicked.
"Ethan tried to burn the whole restaurant down, not caring if people were inside. And your FRIEND helped." Slightly annoyed the Phone Guy shook his head.
"That's awful! I will have a word with them, they can't just-"
Quickly Phoney snapped up at that and put his hand on Jeremy's shoulders. If he had only more TIME- "You CAN'T. He is in jail now, because he did that and it was VERY illegal and dangerous."
"Oh... uh- I can visit him there, right? I didn't mean for things to go so wrong..." The boy obviously felt bad, making Simon force a smile.
"No- no... he isn't in jail HERE, he is in jail back in his hometown- we did him that favor, because his family lives there and can visit him every day!" Smoothly he lied.
"... I should at least call him..."
"And take a daily call away from him? He isn't upset at you, he knew what he was doing. Leave him to reflect and reconnect with his beloved family, okay?"
Jeremy still looked unhappy, but Phoney knew he won. "... maybe I am the one who is upset... w-what about Evelyn?!"
God, he wished sometimes that Freddy's wasn't a spider web in which every fly knew the other.
"She, uh- well- you know, when I said what he tried- he did it to save Evelyn. And it turned out, he uh- succeeded! He thought he would have to- burn down the whole place, but uh- the display of true fatherly love was enough to bring them uh- hope and peace. They're in a better place now, Jerry."
First the kid smiled, then slowly a bit of distrust crept onto his face. "Sir, are you sure about that? I- I'm really sorry to ask this, but- we were wrong before..."
"Jeremy." Sometimes it was a benefit to have no expressions at all. "I was there. I am VERY sure everything was fine. Not to mention, the bodies crumbled, so, uh- where could they even possibly be?"
"C-crumbled?" Jeremy seemed mortified.
"Yes- their bodies- but, uh- after y'know, after their souls... left? They said goodbye and all of that- floated around-" At this point he was just making shit up, he should have planned all of this out better beforehand.
Thankfully, Jeremy had the habit of believing what he wanted to believe. In quiet wonder he stepped back, not actually looking at anything anymore. "... I would have liked to have seen it myself. I- I feel like I should have apologized to them."
"Of co- wait why?" Surprised Phoney stared at him. Of all of them, he had the LEAST guilt on him-
"... I never... helped them. I talked to them each and every day and it... never clicked. Were- how much were they AI, sir? How aware were the children?"
It stayed quiet for a moment.
"Jeremy. It's over now. Some things won't get answered and we have to live with that. Please... don't, uh- worry anymore. Okay?"
The boy looked at him, then shook his head. "I wish this all could have been... different."
"So do I. But- letting it haunt us won't make anything any better, right? Sometimes... sometimes bad things happen. Sometimes we make decisions we could have- made better in hindsight. That, uh- won't change us though. Nothing can. We have to take what we learned and, uh- apply it to the future! So- try it! What did you learn, Jerry?"
He tried his best to be cheerful and motivated, but then he saw Jeremy's expression.
Not angry.
Not cold.
But somehow... distant.
Again the boy- guy shook his head. "... could you have protected him, sir? From prison, I mean?"
"... no." Shameful he looked aside, now deeply regretting this whole conversation. It felt as though Jeremy was seeing through his lies and playing along, so he would have to suffer on his own about how abhorrent of a person he was. How could he abuse Jeremy's trust like this? Everyone's trust. He was just awful. "... I wish I could have, but at some point, it was in his own hands. I can't protect people from their own decisions."
At least this was the whole truth.
"Then... I hope he will be back with his family soon." Jeremy walked off and took the weird pressure in the air with him.
"... I hope so too." Quietly Simon mumbled to himself. If there was anything good in this world, then the detective and his family would meet back up in heaven. Maybe he should be jealous of Ethan. He was done now.
Once more he turned to the screen, deleting the tape from last night. Better get it done now.
When he looked back up, Mike was leaning in the frame.
Fantastic.
Everyone just queued up it seemed.
But he didn't really have the energy to do the whole spiel again.
Neither said anything, until Mike finally rose an eyebrow.
Simon sighed. "Ethan is gone and I- I don't know enough to tell you anything. Can I, uh- get around this somehow?"
The man stepped inside, but at least he shrugged. "I don't know. Can you?"
"MIKE I SWEAR TO GOD-"
"Listen, you don't have to tell me anything, but I will judge you for it. If you can handle that or not is not my fucking choice." He eyed him. "You'd probably fucking feel a hell of a lot better though."
"I don't- uh- Mike. It's fine- I really can't say much more. He's gone and I, uh-"
"What about the animatronics?" Mike kept staring at him, filling Simon with discomfort.
God, he wished he would have had a bit more time to prepare some lies. "... I will probably have to store them somewhere. We have facilities around where they're safe and sound without a chance to, uh- go berserk on anyone."
"What will you tell them?" Mike asked.
"Not- not sure yet." He blew some air out, trying to destress. "If I tell them the truth, don't you think they might uh, you know- freak out?"
"If you lie to them though, you're fucked next time. Sometimes one lie is one lie too much, no matter the intentions behind it."
"I know, I know." At least he wasn't being forced to answer Mike's unspoken questions. God, he probably looked really miserable right about now actually, he just realized.
And the staring he got didn't make it better.
Mike WANTED to know.
He should probably tell him.
... or maybe not, maybe he should take this into his grave.
The Marionette could tell him. Even if he didn't KNOW anything, he could lie about it. It was his word against his own, right?! Maybe he could-
His head hurt.
Finally Mike opened his mouth again. "So. We are getting them down there and then tell them we're doing our best to find Ethan?"
Shit.
"I- I mean- yes, but- where would we even start?! What if- I think he might be dead, Mike. I think Dave might had a run in with him. He- I- he sneaked in here regularly, at least the cameras say so and the tape from last night is deleted-"
"Great. We can ask him." Mike wasn't batting an eye.
"Wh- what if it turns out he did it and we- hit a sore spot and are next?"
Again, Mike just looked at him weirdly, making the Phone-head even more anxious. "I thought we agreed that sooner or later we need to stop them anyways?"
"Yes, but not while they are AWARE of what we're trying!"
"We could frame it as something good, right? They don't know about what we want to do. And if they didn't do anything, we know there's something going wrong out there."
"B-But what if they lie?!"
"Weren't you the one telling me that Dave tends to say the truth?"
"That- gosh, that was probably a year ago! Maybe longer! People change, and I-" Finally it clicked. "If we ask for Ethan, they know we are in contact with him. It would, uh- give us away. Why else would we keep in contact with him?"
Finally, that actually gave Mike pause. "... but what if he needs help?"
"For what? Do you think he was kidnapped? If he was kidnapped- first, by WHOM and secondly, if it were Dave then he would DEFINITELY lie to us, he would have EVERY reason to." Aggravated Simon put a hand on Mike's shoulder. "We have to play it safe."
"Nothing at Freddy's is safe! Working at Freddy's is entirely unsafe!" Annoyed Mike scoffed. "I don't care for him as a person, but-"
"Mike. We concentrate on getting rid of Dave and Old Sport in a nice, quiet and clean fashion, okay? Because no matter what happened to Ethan, that is what he would want to get done. If he's alive, then he's fine and he will be disappointed that we wasted time searching for him. If he's dead, well- then we can't do anything for him anyways and need to take care of what he would have wanted us to. He would agree, getting rid of the killer comes first to protect everyone."
Mike's eyes wandered over his (lack of a) face as he clearly was a bit torn, leaning closer. "What if he is in serious trouble and if we don't do any-"
"Yes, what if? What if we go out of our way to search for him and when we come back something awful happened to the animatronics?! What if they fully lost their mind by then?" Insistent he stared back at his friend.
After a few seconds Mike finally withdrew himself.
Was the conversation finally over?
"Then we better get our fucking plan on the way. We haven't been-"
"If Dave REALLY had something to do with Ethan disappearing, then he will be on high alert. I-"
"So we just are supposed to do fucking NOTHING?" Finally Mike exploded again, anger quickly washing over him.
"No- no, that's not what I meant." Weakly Simon protested. "All I am saying is that we might need to lay low with what we are doing- uh- you know. Maybe pick a location where we can lure them to, consider what to tell them and- well, I, uh- I already considered if we should maybe- lure them into the basement of my house and- burn it all down."
A bit calmed by this actual possible approach of the situation, finally Mike realized he might was putting Jeremy out there in trouble by having him be the only reliable guard out there. The restaurant was giant after all.
"... that sounds like a start." Mike shook his head and stepped back. "But how-"
"I will figure out more details, but we really have to get out there back to work now. If something happens and this place gets shut down anyways, this all was for nothing and we won't be able to do ANYTHING."
The guard looked at him, then growled in defeat and turned to leave, Simon following closely until falling back, getting lost inside of the crowd.
All he could feel was that he was tired.
It was hard paying attention to the customers.
It was hard paying attention to the animatronics.
The whole day slowly became blurry and fuzzy around the edges.
Things made less and less sense.
Thankfully though nobody ACTUALLY needed him. They needed someone to rant and complain at, someone to blame before storming off or someone to tell everyone to calm down.
Sometimes someone who said sorry when nobody else was willing to.
All he wanted deep down was to return home and sleep.
But even if he were at home, he wouldn't be able to relax, and he knew it.
There the admittedly hardest task was waiting for him.
He was being quiet. Everyone was, surprisingly enough.
Even Dave and Old Sport kept to themselves, though they seemed to be happy with just each other at the moment. Smiling and whispering.
Simon felt envy as he watched them.
Sometimes he wanted to shed all this guilt that had been stocking up on his conscious, to go the simple route and embrace being a bad person to not feel any guilt either.
He tried!
It didn't work.
What came back first, the guilt or the belief that he might not be as awful as he probably objectively was?
People quietly said their goodbyes at the end of the day.
Surprisingly enough for once the chaos duo left first, Phoney only catching it on the monitors while tidying the office.
Fine by him.
At some point he felt a presence behind him, the Marionette was towering in the doorframe, making himself barely small enough to stare down from his position.
Simon was too tired to waste time. "You have decided on if you want to help me?"
Slowly the being dragged itself into the office, radiating a form of hurt he had often been able to feel, back when the Puppet was locked into his box, forced into a constant state of dazing. Despite being locked in, the feeling always managed to seep everywhere, even into the office.
"Yes. And I have to say no." Before Phone Guy could say anything, he continued, each word seeming to be a pain to him. "I... can't do it. Not... not again. I cannot lie."
"They say things become easier the more often you do them." Phoney bitterly shot back.
"You of all people should know that isn't true." Watching the human wince, the Puppet only whispered "I did what I thought was right. And I still think what I did was right. I never truly lied to them. You can do this on your own, can't you?"
Phoney felt a numb pity in his stomach, wrestling with anger about being left on his own with this matter. "What if they ask for you?"
"You will know what to say. You always do." The machine passed him and sank down onto the office chair. "I will take the nightshift."
Coward.
The word was stuck in Simon's throat as he was certain he wouldn't be able to force them out without hearing Mike's voice echo in it.
But it was a thought of this.
Without further comment he turned to leave, quickly, quietly, before Mike could catch up to him and offer him to come by.
Good lord, he might would do so anyways, because everybody knew Mike never did the sensible thing. Okay, RARELY.
For now he was alone though and walked home, his mind filled with dread.
Dread.
Dread, dread, dread.
Dread had become her main emotion.
She felt dread when she was alone.
She felt dread when she looked at her friend's vessels.
She felt dread when she knew she was struggling to recognize them due to it.
She didn't want to be scared of her friends.
They weren't monsters.
They weren't.
None of them.
Not even she.
Freddy, I'm scared was all she wished to say to him. But she was even more scared telling him of what she was scared.
It was hard enough in these bodies already, bodies that were begging to break but not allowed to.
If any of her friends would tell her what she KNEW she looked like to her face, she might simply crumble on the spot, her last resolve to continue existing broken.
His name wasn't even Freddy.
She felt like she was going mad.
Where was her dad?
Why wasn't he coming home?
Why wasn't he coming to get her?
The terror she experienced was too familiar, back in the day when she first woke up in this body, watching him frantically searching the location-
Why didn't he recognize her?
Someone please make it stop.
It had been terrifying, nobody hearing her, nobody seeing HER, only a chicken robot they passed casual comments over-
Nobody except the bad man talking to them.
It felt like nails on chalkboard.
The thought that maybe if they would have listened to him, that maybe, maybe, they would have had it better, they wouldn't be so alone-
But the bad man lied, he always did.
The Puppet said so and they all knew it was what bad people do.
She still couldn't help but wonder how they would have ended up if they would have listened and be good kids like he demanded of them.
It was a very scary thought, but less so than thinking of being so alone again.
Her friends had gathered close to her, they were a ball of metal.
It brought no comfort.
She could feel their fear and sadness vibrating in her skin, amplifying her own bad feeling so much more.
They never talked.
Not about back then.
Puppet said it would not be good.
It wasn't good to talk at night.
And what for even?
Remembering would only hurt.
All that mattered was that the bad man had to die and all that helped him.
Turned out the bad man had a lot of friends.
How can a bad man have so many friends?
No time for questions. The Puppet was awake so rarely anyways.
She felt bitter at the betrayal.
She was glad nobody got hurt anymore.
But him of all people at the shoulders of a friend of the bad man?
They were still lonely.
And now it was hard to remember.
Thinking was hard too.
But she was scared of not thinking again.
She still remembered well the state of confusion, pain and fear they were in first, where it was too overwhelming to stand next to each other for too long because it mixed up their minds, when any sort of light would make them crave to tear their eyes out and when there were nothing but husk seeking release.
When they craved blood because they believed it would help.
A lie.
Seeing her father helped.
She tried to roll into a ball.
She was a big girl, she promised him. That was why she wanted to see Freddy's.
She was a big girl, she could be left alone for a small while.
But Dad didn't come back all day and now her chest and head was hurting.
Not hurting him had helped.
The Puppet lied to them, like the bad man.
A loud noise.
Every noise was loud to her.
Door.
They all perked up.
Bonnie hated the Phone man.
Foxy was scared of the Phone man.
She pitied the Phone man.
He was moving in, stopping in the doorframe, looking at her as she scrambled to try to stand up.
Where is my dad?
She wanted a voice to ask questions.
This man understood though, even without hearing a word.
"I, uh-" He looked at her through the dial. Insect eyes, insects had lots of little eyes dad had said. "... isn't Ethan with you?"
Cold dread sank into her stomach and she was shaking.
The other three noticed her distress and began howling.
It didn't make things better.
"I- oh, c-calm down." The man kneeled with her, but didn't touch her. That was good. She didn't want to be touched. She wanted her dad. "I'm- I'm sure he will show up soon. He's- he's probably currently doing something very important to help you! Uh- probably- probably finding a place for you to stay with him... ha... haha..."
Her head snapped up.
She was desperate.
She wanted it to stop.
No matter who she had to listen to.
Bad man, Puppet, anyone.
She was willing to kill this man if it meant for it to stop.
But it wouldn't, would it?
The eight insect eyes stared at her and she didn't want that.
Standing up she tried to put distance between them, not caring what the others did.
Dad wouldn't leave her alone again.
Right?
Not now that he knew she was here.
"I, uh- listen. We- I mean- there could be-"
She left the room, hearing two heavy footsteps behind her. There was no endurance left for whatever he wanted to say. All she wanted to do was lie down and pretend this was all nothing but an incredibly long nightmare.
Freddy stayed behind.
Good for him.
He always managed to keep a cool head and would probably be able to listen what the Phone had to s-
HIS NAME ISN'T FREDDY!
It hurt.
It was scary.
And there was nothing she could do about it.
So she laid down and closed her eyes.
Thinking hard of her bed.
Maybe she would wake up someday.
She hoped it would be soon.

-

A/N: O h b o i
I hope you enjoyed! Even if it was a rather talk/feel-heavy chapter :v