Chapter Text
“Michael said no.”
He would swear the animatronic sighed. Ballora shook her head slightly in a far too human manner, her tutu spinning almost anxiously.
“I had suspected he would,” her eyes flipped open, training on him, and he couldn’t help but shuffle back and forth on his feet. He had designed Ballora this way on purpose- of course he had, he wasn’t a normal man who knew how to grieve like a normal person… if at all- but he hadn’t realized Ballora would adopt that exact look.
He loved it. He hated it. It was driving him insane. Perhaps this should have been his punishment all along, not whatever Cassidy and the other children had cooked up, though dying over and over again was certainly trying. “I am acutely aware of his feelings towards you, as are the others. I admit, I share similar feelings of distaste.”
“Yes I know, everything here wants to kill me,” he spun on his heel and sat down on the desk. Ever since the children disappeared, this prison had gotten… quiet, almost. Melancholy, empty. It was quite fitting, considering everything that led him to this point, if not a little maddening. “What are we supposed to do, then? There’s no point in asking him again, he’ll only continue to say ‘no’.”
“Did you, perhaps, explain why you wish to study me?”
William cleared his throat a bit and glanced away. There was no imagining it, Ballora definitely sighed, and there was definitely exasperation in it.
“Mr. Afton.”
“He’s a smart boy- incredibly stupid in most ways,” Ballora’s body stiffened up and William rushed to finish his sentence, recognizing the sight of an animatronic ready to pounce. “But smart in many others, you’ve already informed me that he suspected the connection between you and Rachel, and when I asked to perform maintenance checks, he mentioned you specifically.”
“I’ve already checked Ballora as thoroughly as possible. What you’re looking for isn’t there.”
No, he saw no reason to mention what exactly he was searching for. If Michael was smart enough to suspect there was something to search for in the first place, he was smart enough to figure out what William wanted.
“I’m just sitting…” that calculating look, his eyes darting back and forth, assessing William in a way that made him feel inhuman, like a mere thing to be studied. Familiar, blank, unreadable. A gift from Henry, who was just as careful, just as observant. A puppetmaster crafting his next performance. “What do you want?”
“I would imagine that refusing to communicate effectively is a large part of the reason you are down here,” William found it in himself to glare at the animatronic. Her eyes had slipped shut again, no longer posing a threat, though her tone remained condescending and almost mocking. Familiar. “Among other things, of course.”
“It’s at moments like this where I’m reminded of why I continue to bother Michael about you,” he hopped off the desk, properly sitting down in his chair. The night was about to start; it had already been far too peaceful for far too long. “Is this Rachel speaking, perhaps?”
“I am unsure,” Ballora seemed frustrated, too. “If only someone were to communicate with Mike about why it is imperative you perform a maintenance check on me, we might discover the answer to your question.”
Oh, there was definitely some Rachel in there. Before either of them could get another word out, the air shifted, the lights dimming. The room grew cold, the monitors and fan powering on. Ballora’s tutu spun once and she gave him a bow.
“I will return at the end of your shift,” William checked his roster to see who he was dealing with, a small mercy from who he now knew was Michael, and his eyes widened when he saw that everyone was active, everyone turned up to their highest aggression level.
Ballora, seeing the look on his face, giggled in a manner so alive that it made shivers travel down his spine.
“It appears I may return sooner than anticipated,” she turned and left. As soon as she was gone, the clock started, and William scrambled to grab his flashlight.
It was the nightmare Puppet who found its way into his office sixteen minutes later with the promise that this was a nightmare he would never awaken from.
Mike blinked, looking around at the building.
He was in his old office, standing in front of the monitor that Helpy loved to sit on. It was older, more worn-down, scorch marks visible on the walls. He swallowed, dreading what he’d see if he turned the chair around.
“Mr. Schmidt?”
He jumped slightly, turning around and finding the curly-haired girl standing in the doorway. Her attention was drawn from his face to the chair, visibly darkening. “Oh. Is that you?”
“I- “ he studied the chair for a moment, as if he expected it to move or for something to stand from it. “I don’t… we shouldn’t be in here.”
“What happened here, anyway?” They left the office. Mike took a shocked step back at what the rest of his building looked like. It was dingy, abandoned, which he’d expected, but the giant hole in the floor leading down into a deep, dark void that he couldn’t see into… “Was it the fire?”
He was drawn to it. Something about it was familiar, like he’d been there before. Beneath the building, within the void, there was…
He was drawn to something else, too, something in the corner of the room. He tore his gaze away from the hole and found himself staring at a bag with a figure on it. He tilted his head to the side, trying to piece together where he’d seen it before.
“Roxy?”
The girl turned to her bag, too, and grinned.
“Yeah. Isn’t she cool?”
“You’re right, she is cool,” the girl got excited, taking his hands and dragging him over to her bag.
“Oh! I just remembered!” She unzipped it as he sat beside her, eyes latching onto the tape recorder she was brandishing in his direction. “I found your old tapes! I played one for Helpi once and he said he didn’t recognize your voice, but it still made something interesting happen to him.”
“Something interesting?” The girl nodded, beaming at him.
“Yeah, it was like a part of him actually did know you, and he was going on about ‘Faz-articles’ and fires and death or whatever and- “
“Wait,” Mike sat up straight, staring at her in confusion. “Faz-articles?”
“Oh yeah, for some reason everything starts with ‘Faz’. I guess it’s branding or something.”
He wanted to ask her more questions. He wanted to know more about what she knew. But she stiffened up suddenly and turned, Mike’s head shooting up and his eyes popping open, his breath catching slightly.
He sat up on the bench by the playground, glancing around at the kids; they were playing, having fun, didn’t seem to realize he’d dozed off. He sighed, rubbing at his eyes, trying to figure out all… that.
There had been a pit in his stomach from the moment he woke up that morning. He wasn’t sure what exactly it was; anxiety from the presentation he would have to give to the parents later that day in regards to their kids? Panic at the small twinges of pain he could feel in his arm despite the fact he was no longer living and shouldn’t be able to feel pain? Looming dread at the idea that Jeremy Fitzgerald not only had a daughter, but she was drawn into this whole mess and was likely in terrible danger and there was nothing he could do about it?
Possibly all of the above, it wouldn’t exactly surprise him, but of course it had to be an elusive fourth option, one he never could have accounted for.
It was a break. A small, fun little break from trying to map out their talking points towards the adults; Luke’s suggestion, to his surprise. He was somehow more withdrawn and quieter than Evan, which he didn’t think was possible, but Gabriel assured them that this was just how his brother was.
But then, Susie had turned around, then Gabriel, then… well, Mike wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been expecting, but it certainly hadn’t been…
“Hey, there’s a guy standing there!”
“What? Where-? Woah. I didn’t realize we could get new people.”
“New people? Wh- Fitzgerald?!”
“Mikey?”
All he could do was stare at first, his brain frozen, trying to comprehend… this. And then, everything clicked into place in one go and his thoughts started spiraling and-
“The fuck were you doing there?”
“You have to promise me you’ll stay out of this. I’m not giving you a choice in this matter.”
“I’m sorry… for what I’m about to do to you…”
Mike was on his feet and dragging him away by the hand before he even realized what was happening, everything was hazy and fuzzy and moving too fast and fuck, fuck-
Jeremy Fitzgerald should not be here.
Rachel jumped as the door slammed open, smacking against the wall so hard that a picture fell from it. Mike winced, clearly not intending to open the door with such force, and stormed into the room, practically dragging someone behind him. He slammed the door shut again, once more wincing at the impact, then dragged whatever poor soul was behind him through the house and veering into the kitchen. He came back out again almost instantly, slamming this door shut as well, then shoved both Henry and her into the living room.
His hair was messy and his eyes were wide, shifting back and forth between being a dark, lifeless shade of purple and a bright, almost blinding neon.
…well. That’s new.
Henry immediately tensed up, one hand moving to rest on Mike’s shoulder, but Mike flinched away. Henry froze and lowered his hand again, his face deathly serious.
“What’s wrong?” Mike shook his head and gestured towards the kitchen door almost frantically.
“You know more about what’s going on than almost anyone else here,” his voice was harsh, cold, and it made her think of… “I can’t deal with him right now, so I need you to keep him occupied while I figure out what the fuck is going on- “
“Mike, you need to calm down,” Mike shook his head, giving Henry a glare.
“I’ll fucking calm down. I’m going for a walk to clear my head because right now my head is shit and I can’t deal with him while I’m like this and I can’t deal with the adults while I’m like this so just take care of it.” Mike inhaled sharply, forcing his eyes shut. He took a second to stand there, holding the breath, and then slowly released it. The breath was shaky, uneven and panicked, as if he were barely keeping himself held together. “I- I’m sorry, I don’t…” he inhaled and exhaled again, slightly shakier. “I-I didn't mean… I shouldn’t use that tone, I’m sorry…”
“It’s ok,” Henry reached over, again, and gently took Mike’s hands in his, giving them a loving squeeze. Mike visibly relaxed at the touch, opening his eyes. They’d settled on lavender, a much more scared color than she’d like, but ultimately better than whatever was happening earlier. “Something’s got you freaked out. That’s fine. Go take a walk, clear your head a bit, we’ve got time. Ellie and I will take care of this, ok?”
Mike’s eyes darkened again and his hands twitched in Henry’s grasp.
“But- “ he cut himself off, biting his lip, then nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah. Just… yeah. I’ll clear my head. I’ll be back, just… I- I dunno…”
“We’ll handle it, Mikey. I promise.”
Mike exhaled one more time and nodded, pulling away suddenly and marching back out of the room, out of the house, down the path and out of sight. Rachel and Henry stood there, staring after him, neither moving. Finally, after what felt like ages, Rachel cleared her throat loudly and made Henry jump.
“Well. We can’t handle anything if we just stand here. Into the kitchen we go.”
“My name is Jeremy.”
“There- it was an explosion. I… we were being chased, I think…”
“Can I go back? I'm not done yet, I need to save my daughter- “
“There’s no choice for me to make, Mr. Alligator. I won’t stay here. I won’t forget my promise, and I won’t forget Cassie.”
Jeremy nearly dropped what he was holding- a small vase with a single flower in it- when the door suddenly swung open. He didn’t recognize the woman on the other side, though he thought she might vaguely resemble Elizabeth. Same hair, if he thought about it, same eyes…
“Well damn. I was expecting a serial killer.”
“Ellie.”
“Will, maybe.”
“Ellie.”
Jeremy set the vase back down, folding his hands behind his back respectfully. He had zero clue where he was, who these people were, or what was going on- all he knew was that, one moment, he was talking to a glowing red alligator and the next he’s being dragged by the arm into this weird house and locked in the kitchen. Not the worst way to go, he supposed, since he literally died in an explosion.
He thinks.
Man, he was confused.
The two gestured to the table and they all sat down; he was tense, nervous, but if these people could help…
Henry Emily; he knew Henry’s name, he’d met the man a couple of times, back when they were alive. Before the bite, before Elizabeth, he and Mikey were just kids who were sitting at the diner, Mr. Emily coming over to introduce himself and check in on them. He was nice, a little awkward, but Mikey was relaxed and comfortable around him, so Jeremy was relaxed and comfortable with him, too.
Henry Emily, the father to Charlotte- Charlie. He built the Puppet to protect her. She was killed, anyway.
He’d never met the woman before, but when she smiled at him, it became obvious who she was. Elizabeth’s hair and eyes, Evan’s little bell-like voice, Mikey’s smile… she reached over, took his hands, gave them a gentle squeeze.
“I’m terribly sorry about-“ she gestured around the kitchen. “-this. We, um… we don’t usually get new people.”
“I… I’m dead, right?” Jeremy gently extracted his hands from hers. She didn’t seem bothered by it. “If I’m dead, but I’m here, that means you’re dead, and… I guess I can’t blame anyone for not wanting new people here.”
Her smile widened slightly and fuck, yeah, she was definitely Mikey and Evan and Elizabeth’s mother. Mrs. Af- (“Rachel, hon, call me Rachel; definitely do not mention my husband- “) folded her hands on the table, her eyes soft and warm and welcoming.
He was still a bit hesitant to trust her, though. His mom, his wife… but Rachel asked, “How did you get here? What happened?” And he had no clue how to answer her.
“I-I’m not… really sure,” he twisted his fingers together under the table, a habit he thought he’d grown out of years ago. Why was he so much younger than he should be? “But I know why I’m here. I need help- my daughter needs help. I was told that someone here could help her.”
Henry Emily and Rachel stared at each other knowingly. Jeremy shifted around a bit; he didn’t like those looks, like they knew exactly what he needed, how to help, but they wouldn’t, like it would only come back to haunt them if they tried…
After a moment, Henry Emily exhaled deeply, nodding to himself.
“We’ll talk to him. We’ll take care of it- “
“Henry, are you s- “
“We’ll take care of it,” he didn’t sound so sure. He sounded like there was nothing to be done and he just didn’t want to admit it. Well, Jeremy was warned that coming here would hurt in the long run- whatever. He didn’t care what he had to do, just as long as Cassie was safe. “Until then, though, we have to get ready… do you wanna help, or would you like to stay here?”
“I- “ Jeremy shifted around again. He’d like to help Cassie. In time, dude. Just be patient. “I could help, I guess… what are we doing?”
Henry Emily’s smile turned forced.
“Preparing for an execution,” Jeremy didn’t like the waver in the man’s voice, almost as if he wasn’t entirely joking.