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matsumi101 · 2 years

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Synopsis: The second Gabby let the dock gates close behind them they knew there was no going back to whatever this place would offer them; answers, hopefully. They have to commit now, if they want to get through all of this.

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Warnings: Cursing, blood and injury, mentions of abductions

Notes: ahehehe fnaf sb brainrot goes brrrrr. although there is an oc in place i'm writing in 2nd person pov because it's fun. i have a general plot i just need to iron it out as i write. also chapter 1 starts at 1am in game. also, chapter 1 meant for a little bit of dynamic building with other characters. we'll get to our lovely jesters soon for now Gabby needs to have bonding time with Gregory

also character sheet here!!

CHAPTER 1: Intent

Chapter Summary: Stuck in the Freddy Fazbear Mega Pizzaplex, Gregory finds that he's not the only outsider stranded for the night. This begs the next question: what are they here for?

Word count: 7k-ish

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Gregory only had little time before he heard an all-too-familiar thumping that was creeping towards the room he just entered.

Whatever, he thought.

A glance at the mess of papers on one of the desks showing an advertisement spiel for a Fazbear-branded consumable he figured there was no information in that room useful enough to get caught. Fumbling with his flashlight as he rushed to the other exit, he saw that it needed to be charged again soon. Hopefully, the room where the single walkway led to had one. For now, his only lighting was from the kitchen lights just a floor below.

Chica would soon be on his tail so Gregory didn't think twice to open the first door and immediately ran into the security office the second he set eyes on it. With the Freddy-themed flashlight charger the first thing he saw inside, he quickly pried it open and set his flashlight in.

"What the-?"

Gregory whipped around and saw that the room was not empty as he hoped. Blue eyes stared down at him wide with shock.

"What-?!" he yelped.

Panicking, he turned on his heel to bolt, but right behind him was Chica across the hallway from where he came just a minute ago. Before he could respond, he was grabbed by the collar of his shirt and was harshly pulled back into the office. As Gregory stumbled in finding his footing, his vision of white and pink was immediately replaced by a blur of grey, black, and yellow.

You let out a sigh of relief, dropping your hand from the button that locked the door. You peered out the tinted window and saw that Chica had her hands on the door, seemingly searching for a way to pry it open, but for now you were safe. Well, not just you.

It seemed like there was a whole new problem in your hands.

You turned around to face the kid, who was staring back at you. "Kid," you started, carefully but firmly, "what are you doing here?" Gregory narrowed his eyes at you, pressing his lips to show that he wasn't going to give you answers. You thought for a bit before deciding to sit back on the chair, eyes snapping up momentarily upon noticing the young kid reacting defensively at your sudden movement.

"Relax... I'm not-I'm not after you," you assured, pulling town the turtleneck collar that had been covering your face. "I'm no employee. Just snuck my way in here and now I'm stuck."

Regretfully, you added mentally.

Gregory seemed to relax slightly at your words, but he wasn't believing you entirely. "How do I know you're not lying?" he asked. You nodded, understanding his skepticism. "You're not the only one being hunted by these things, plus that lone security guard that's been wandering around alongside them." As if to prove a point, Chica banged on the door and startled both people stranded in the office.

"I don't think this is going to hold her for long."

You turned to face the table with a pair of keyboards and multitude of computers, now looking up for any ways to distract Chica long enough to get out of the office. There has to be an answer here, right?

"What are you doing?" Gregory piped up, alarmed.

"Finding a way out for us, is what."

Gregory observed silently as the monitor screens shifted to different things: one was a set of security cams, another two had documents open, the center one was obscured by your frame, and the fifth one was a different set of cameras. The large screen at the center of the wall nearly took up all the space, and displayed was a single camera view of the kitchen. He watched you for a few more seconds before deciding to do something his own way.

"Freddy, are you there?"

Hearing the star's name made your eyes go wide and turned around so quickly that you could've spun on the chair if you didn't plant your feet firmly enough on the floor. Does this kid have access to the Freddy Fazbear?! Who was he exactly? It was your turn to panic about your unexpected company.

"Chica's got me trapped, and there's only one security door!"

You watched the kid talk to the yellow-orange watch, apprehension slowly morphing to confusion and shock when Freddy's voice came through the tiny device and actually providing help...? At least, you hoped it was help. The last thing you needed was one of the robots tricking the poor kid (and consequently, yourself) into his demise.

"W-w-wait, how's the online pizza delivery system supposed to help us?" you interjected.

"Chica loves pizza!" Freddy answered, seemingly unaware that it was a different person that had asked the question.

"Hold on-!"

Despite being baffled by the odd suggestion, you didn't have time to dwell on that thought as Chica had now resorted to more banging and now clawing at the metal door.

"Kid, are y-wait-"

Gregory made his way to the table, snatching up a small container shaped like Freddy's head with a black security cap in place of his iconic top hat.

"I need this. Now,"

Gregory pointed to the center monitor, which showed a menu screen of the online delivery system that Freddy had pointed out earlier.

"Start it," he ordered.

A little frustrated from being repeatedly cut off, you pushed away his arm that was practically up in your face. "Kid, are you sure we can trust Freddy?" you asked, almost somewhat hesitantly. Gregory narrowed his eyes at you, and you silently responded by raising a brow at him.

The two struggled for a bit, the automated introduction from the ordering system ignored as Gregory tried to grab the controls set in front of the monitor with his free hand (the other one still held the Freddy container). Finally, you scooted away a bit so he could stop stepping on you, rubbing the spot where he elbowed your throat. It wasn't a harsh hit, but it definitely took you by surprise.

"Let's see, how do you move this..."

"It's this one-"

"Fine."

The kid glared at you. "Do you want my help or not?" you nearly barked. "Because as much as I don't trust whatever gimmick you got with the bear, there's a deadly chicken right out there that apparently wants pizza more than us dead."

You jabbed a thumb at the door, where you both knew Chica was trying her best to get in. Gregory glanced at where you pointed. A loud bang followed a second later, and the impact seemed to be enough just to leave a fraction of a dent on the door. Gregory looked back at you.

"That is such a weird way to word that."

He reluctantly let go of the controls, and you immediately took it to familiarize yourself. It consisted of a joystick and two buttons, shouldn't be that difficult... hopefully.

"Okay, let's make some pizza," you murmured. "Follow the instructions on the left side of your screen to force the bot to make your perfect mouth-watering pizza," the automated voice instructed, causing you to make a face.

"Right?"

While you busy yourself with the pizza bot, Gregory pressed the Freddy container open. You looked back for a second upon hearing the sound of a party horn, a smile of amusement creeping on your lips upon seeing its source.

"Oh, that's cute," you chuckled, and to your slight surprise Gregory agreed with you.

"I'm, uhh... my name's Gabby."

You returned your attention back to pizza making, just missing the security badge that was taken out from the container. Pocketing the badge, Gregory went back to what you were doing.

"Isn't that the kitchen below us?" he asked.

You hummed in confirmation, watching as shredded cheese dropped from the dispenser the sauced pizza dough was placed in.

A pause.

"...Gregory."

"I'm just here to find some answers, and that's it. How about you?"

You swallowed back a nervous sigh, the metal screeching against metal in the background reminding you that you were on a time limit.

"Alright, Gregory, I think we got off the wrong foot, so let's start over," you said.

Focusing be damned, you preferred to find out how this kid, the one you've been seeing through the cameras running around the plex, was apparently in alliance with one of the very robots that you were sure were out to murder you; at least, you believe they would. You knew about Fazbear Entertainment's history of their robots causing harm and even death to people, so you assumed these ones would be no different. In fact, the very history of the company was why you found yourself in the building after hours, but that's a discussion for later.

"Me?"

"What are you doing here in the pizzaplex alone?"

"First off, I'm not alone, you are." You feigned offense, a hand to your chest and your face contorted to theatrical hurt. Gregory wouldn’t be lying if he said he didn’t find that amusing.

"Secondly, I just want to get out of here. It's like this whole place is after me!"

"And... Freddy's helping you through all this?"

"Yup."

You hummed thoughtfully, using the pause to navigate the bot to the next topping station. "And you believe he's really helping you get out, yes?" you inquired slowly. Gregory glanced away briefly before looking back at you.

"I dunno. He's... different for some reason. He hid me from the security guard when we came across her, and he actually tells me where I need to go instead of insisting to bring me elsewhere or to someone else to do it for me."

"Not... meat...?"

Security guard. He must be referring to the blonde woman that was patrolling the building. "So he's the only one who isn't a threat to your safety, duly noted," your replied.

It was time for the last topping--why the fuck does the free coupon had to be supreme pizza?! If it was plain cheese it would've been so much quicker! There wouldn't have a need for the meat and this... this...

Your quizzical expression matched Gregory's as you both watched what seemed to be sliced sausages dispense from the station. Neither of you opted to comment on it, the station being explicitly labeled as "Not Meat" already baffling as it was.

Bang! That was definitely a new dent on the door.

"Time to bake. An oven would be ideal."

"Because pizzas are definitely best deep fried," you muttered sarcastically.

"How long's that going to take?"

Thankfully the oven wasn't too hard to spot as it was painted in bright red, perhaps it was a way to mimic the look of the traditional red brick ovens, who knows.

Once the pizza was put in, you took a deep breath to untense yourself. It was now a matter of waiting.

"Maybe around eight to 12 minutes."

"You said you were here for answers. What are you looking for exactly?"

Normally it'd feel like such a short time, but with an animatronic brute forcing her way into the office they weren't sure if that cooking time was short enough.

"Okay, my turn to ask," Gregory declared.

You swung yourself so that you and the chair would face him, propping up a foot on your seat out of habit. You felt like it was only fair for him to ask about your intentions as well.

You hummed as you placed a hand under your chin. You were going to have to condense all that you knew. "I never quite liked the company running this place, to be honest. They've got decades worth of bad history that they somehow kept getting away with even up to now. From the simpler ones like ignored customer complaints to the really terrible cases. Animatronics going haywire, security features malfunctioning, building safety incompliance, those kinda stuff, all swept under the rug. You know about the recent disappearances?"

Gregory shook his head. He had an idea about the ignored complaints at the least, finding some of those filled complaint forms crumpled up and thrown into the bins behind the employees' desks. Meanwhile you exhaled, finding the right words as to make sure you wouldn't alarm Gregory too much with what you'd say next.

"Long story short, lots of missing people. Mostly children, disappearing either within or nearby Fazbear premises. A lot of people believe it’s an inside job, as how it happened before, but there's not enough evidence available to support that. At least, not publicly available."

Gregory looked down at his feet, letting the information sink in. "So you want to know if that's true?" You gave a verbal confirmation, watching as the kid pouted and pondered. You winced slightly at the sound of Chica dragging her fingers against the door, her action making a sound akin to scraping a fork against a plate.

"You think it might happen to me, too?" Gregory finally spoke up, still not looking back at you. "Getting taken without a trace?"

"God, I really hope not."

Somehow the casualness in Gregory's tone struck you with an unnerving feeling. Was this kid not terrified of disappearing and potential death? Or was he already aware of that possibility happening to him?

"Sorry, that must've been, uh, not that swell of an information to hear right now."

"It's fine, I've seen shit before."

"Find a way to help," you replied, "maybe figure out how to stop the disappearances. I don't know if the American justice system would do anything about this, considering Fazbear Entertainment's still up and running despite everything, but there's always something that can be done, right?"

You blinked. You weren't sure if it was appropriate to chide a kid for swearing in this situation. If anything, you've been holding back your tongue ever since Gregory stumbled into the office. If he found more ways to swear through you and his parents found out, it'll be your fault.

"And if you find answers, and if you were right, what would you do afterwards with all that info?" Gregory questioned.

His voice was soft, almost as if he didn't want to ask, but the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could reconsider his choices. Luckily, you were somewhat ready to answer.

That last part was more of assurance to yourself than anything. You've only been in the building for about an hour, but that was more than enough time for you to double guess on your choice to sneak into the place. What started out as a simple internet deep dive into Fazbear history few years ago now led to now; you knew it wasn't an impulse decision. Your family, if they could see you now, would describe it as an obsession gone too far, and a part of you agreed on that sentiment. But, you tried to reason mentally, if this 'obsession' was going to be beneficial, would it really be such a bad thing to have?

You huffed and straightened up on your seat. "Look, I want to help you get out of here, too. I think I can do that while I’m doing my investigation. You think you can trust me on that?"

Gregory finally looked back at you. He examined your face, looking for any sign of deception. He swore couldn't find any, but he wasn't sure in himself if it was actually that or if he was just desperate to have another companion to help him out.

"I don't know yet," he finally admitted.

"So, is your whole, uh, detective thing your job or something?" Gregory asked.

Although disappointed, you already figured he wouldn't trust you so easily.

"That's, that's fair," you agreed quietly.

A beat of silence passed, and only then did you realize how much Chica's fight against the door had slowed considerably. Perhaps it was the smell of cooking marinara and melting cheese making its way up to the office. Seemed like the plan was working.

You shrugged, an unsure grin on your face. "More like a hobby, I suppose..." you answered. Gregory scrunched his face at your response.

"You're weird."

"Well, I'll have you know this weirdo simply wants to help out."

"Doesn't make you any less weird."

Such a harsh kid, you thought.

"Delicious!"

You wondered if that was what the last thing you'd see too, if you weren't careful enough.

You could've sworn you heard Gregory giggle right after you jumped at the sound of the computer announcing that the pizza had finished cooking and was ready to be delivered. You gave him an unamused look before checking the monitor.

The pizza was now boxed up, and as the bot turned around to deliver it to the office it was instead greeted by Chica standing limply a few feet away. The chicken robot lifted her lolling head, mouth hung open and an eye twitching erratically. In a snap, she shot forward, tackling the robot down (being in its perspective made it seem like you were the one tackled instead, you swore it almost made you jump again). The last thing seen was her looking down at the downed robot before the screen broke into grey static.

"That was Chica, right? Come on, let's go!"

Despite the beckon, Gregory had already opened the door and was out in the hallway. You stood up to follow him, but stopped right before you exited the office.

“Hey, kid!”

“I don’t need your help, I have Freddy.”

“Quit your attitude for a second, will you? You forgot your flashlight.”

Gregory immediately stopped in his tracks, turning to look behind him. Still in the room was you with a hand on your hip and the other holding up the flashlight that was left forgotten in the charging station. He considered for a moment to leave the object to you, but the more sensible part of him knew he needed that flashlight for future use. So, with a bit of shame, he power-walked back to the office and snatched the flashlight. He was expecting you to scoff, or at least show some semblance of pride in his embarrassment, but much to his surprise you neither showed nor said anything about it.

"Offer still stands, I'll still be around. Uh, maybe scream if you need me or something?"

“We’re, uh, heading the same way,” Gabby pointed out awkwardly.

Sure, it wasn’t the most ideal way of calling their attention, but you were no robot that can be easily called by a remote device. The sentiment was nice, though.

"And gain attention of everyone else? I’m good,” Gregory huffed, but he did find comfort in their words in some way. Maybe his first thought was right. He turned to leave but looked back again to see you trailing behind.

“Oh. Right.”

You pushed the second doors open just enough for you both to go through. You let Gregory through first, checking if Chica noticed before you squeezed in the gap and letting the door close without so much of a squeak. You waited for the chicken to burst through if ever, and after a second of silence Gregory was already sprinting down the dock.

As the two walked out of the office, you spotted a piece of paper just under the monitor. It had the words “Security Report” printed on the top, so without hesitation you went and took the paper, stuffing it in your green belt bag and quickly jogging after Gregory.

“Come on, I need to head to the docks so I can get out,” Gregory explained. After heading down the stairs and to the double doors that indicated where the docks were.

The two quietly sneaked past Chica, who was still busy munching down the now disheveled pizza with the poor bot lying beside her.

“Kid, wait up!”

It was but a hushed exclamation as you ran after the kid. Gregory was already at the control bay that was situated beside the door with a green exit lit above, the newly retrieved security badge in hand and a relieved grin on his face. He ran the badge through the scanner by the door, his expression faltering slightly when the badge was rejected. While he ran the card again, you checked around the control bay. Aside from a computer set on the table, there was a strange button encased in thick glass.

"Freddy, I found the controls of the loading dock, but there's nothing else here," Gregory reported.

We could take one of those forklifts and try to bust open the garage door, you thought, but the idea of adding another criminal liability to your name was not pleasant.

You turned on the monitor, which revealed that there was a security lock with a level requirement displayed. You glanced over to the card that Gregory (who was busy talking with Freddy) held in his hand, immediately deducing that the security badge that he had was not at a high enough level to open the door or access the controls. Wait, where and how did he get that?

"Something is not right, someone must have changed the controls," Freddy responded thoughtfully.

"I think we're gonna need a much higher security level to access this," you piped in.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"Easy on the swearing, kid."

Gregory snapped his head at you, lips drawn to a scowl. "What are you, the fucking Daycare Attendant?!" he hissed. You raised up your arms in mock surrender, eyebrows shooting up at the hostility that was suddenly directed at you.

"Kid, listen-"

"Gregory, your foul language aside, who is there with you?"

Gregory looked up at you, his anger now replaced by apprehension. It was like he was asking for some sort of confirmation. Wordlessly, you gave a nod. He slowly moved a hand over his watch, his eyes still on you; making sure you were certain of the decision that you let him make.

"I'm with... someone. He-uhm..."

"They," you corrected.

"They're stuck here too. They helped me with the situation earlier. I want to help them as well."

Despite the soft smile on your face, the silence that followed after Gregory spoke was undeniably uncomfortable. It felt a few seconds too long, and it was enough for Gregory to try and speak again until Freddy's voice finally sounded again.

"Then, I will help them out as well."

A sigh of relief.

You shoved your hands into your pockets, watching as Gregory continued to talk to Freddy. You asked if you needed to introduce yourself but Gregory insisted he can handle it, so you told him you'd look around the dock to see if there was something of use there. When you spun around to look at the area, you were immediately overwhelmed by the sheer size of it.

"Uhh..." You could hear your own voice echo in the vast space.

Of course; it was a loading dock, a place meant for large vehicles to drive around in and large amounts of packages to be transferred through. There were forklifts, crates (made out of metal and wood), boxes, and pallets. Some were covered with tarp, and when you went to pull one off of a stack of boxes you were immediately greeted with a cloud of dust that nearly brought you to a coughing fit. You weren't up to busting each container open, it'd take forever, and without a crowbar in sight that option didn't seem doable in the first place. There really wasn't anything useful in the docks, even if you walked around to look some more. At least, nothing useful you could carry. You headed back for Gregory, who seemed to be done talking to Freddy.

"Shush it," you whispered urgently when Gregory began to thrash around. "Someone's coming."

You stared at the kitchen doors a little longer, your walk coming to a near halt. You never even realized you failed to respond to Gregory, not even after yanking him towards you while making a break towards one of the large containers. That damn door just creaked open by a bit, and you weren't going to stand around to watch it open fully.

Before Gregory could complain, you clasped a hand over his mouth, tight enough that he couldn’t pry it off but loose enough to not restrict breathing.

That seemed to make him stop just slightly, making it easier to bring both of you behind the container you were aiming for. When you felt him relax fully, you took it as a cue to let him go. You put a finger to your lips and Gregory, although visibly pissed at you, nodded in confirmation.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Come out, come out wherever you are…”

Chica.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting Chica seemed to have left. You took the risk and peered above the container, shaking off the horrifying image of Chica waiting at the other side of the container this whole time. In reality, the docks were empty. No terrifying robot in sight.

Unfortunately she seemed to be done with her snack and was now trekking around the dock. Her pace agonizingly slow, at some point you could hear her walk a little too close for comfort (you could've sworn you saw her hover just barely above the container; for the love of fuck, please don't get any closer). When she finally walked away, you let go of your breath that nearly left you lightheaded for keeping in for so long. Geez, you didn't sign up to be in some sort of horror show.

Well, technically you did, but you didn't anticipate it to be this intense.

"Okay, coast is cl-OW!"

Your hands quickly flew to nurse your foot. "What was that for?!" you exclaimed. Gregory huffed, crossing his arms as he walked away. "That's for dragging me without warning; you could give me a heads up, you know!" he retaliated. You could feel the corner of your lip twitch, but bit back any form of retort.

He's just a kid, he's just a kid, he's just a kid... you chanted. Do not be pissed.

"Come on, slowpoke."

"You crippled me immensely, gimme a sec."

"Drama queen."

"Jerk."

"Y-you... you okay?" you stuttered.

Gregory looked behind to stick his tongue out at you, but karma soon hit him in the form of locked doors. You witnessed in full glory the poor kid ramming straight into the kitchen doors, the sound of his impact the only sound echoing throughout the place. You let out a snort, but swallowed the rest of your laughter just as quickly.

Just a kid, you reminded yourself.

"You don't suppose the number on the doors has anything to do with that security badge you got, do you?"

Gregory's face was tinted red with embarrassment.

"Dandy," he murmured sarcastically.

Unfortunately you failed to pick up said sarcasm and replied with an all too enthusiastic "that's good!" that got you a silent glare from the kid. "You know, I didn't get through these doors myself earlier," you explained. Inspecting the red double doors, it didn't have any white number on the upper corners, unlike some of the ones you saw before. "I had to follow one of those white wheeled bots to the kitchen, but when I couldn't open the doors I knew I couldn't go back from where I came."

"Come on. I saw another door earlier, we might find a different way back to your buddy."

Gregory moved a hand to his pocket, where the said badge was kept. "Why?" he asked. You shrugged. "Just a guess, I guess. I wouldn't be surprised if this place is heavily locked like some fort."

You tried to push the doors open with a little more might, but it didn't budge at all.

You unfolded your collar to cover your face again and then put out your hand. Gregory looked up at you, then down to your hand. Then back up to you again. Then down again to your hand. Then he scoffed and moved past you, bumping your hand along the way.

"I'm not a toddler."

"Right, sorry. That was a little silly."

"Really, you're gentler than most," Gregory deadpanned.

You opted to tuck your hands into your pockets, glancing down as you followed Gregory towards the door you mentioned earlier.

"Hey, uh," you began quietly, "sorry about the rough handling earlier."

You both entered the door, and were met with tiled pale yellow walls, grey floors. and dim fluorescent lights overhead (actually, they were so dimmed that you could barely see without the flashlight, which you had your own. A small black one, just as long as a pen). Rows of lavatories and toilet cubicles lined the place, the strong scent of detergent and bleach making the impression that they were in some sort of cleaning area.

You continued forward after finally finding a door that could be opened, dodging the cleaning bots and, on occasion, Chica. Every once in a while you both found hiding somewhere, be it in a shower, an empty cart (don't think about why it smelled so weird), or in a locker. The silence now heavy from the tension of potentially getting caught, and it was making your stomach turn with unease. After a while, you and Gregory were met with a difficult path upon entering the laundry area.

He didn’t fail to notice your horrified expression at what his statement implied, but he shrugged it off and began to inspect the doors.

“Are you… okay?” you asked hesitantly, following close behind.

Gregory gave you a once over before huffing and walked faster without a word. You absentmindedly rubbed your fingers of your free hand together, still hung over Gregory's words. You wanted to prod, worry bubbling in your chest for this kid you just met, but if his sudden harshness towards the doors that didn't open when he tried were of any indication of how he felt towards the topic, it was the cue that you shouldn’t ask any further. You found yourself instead quietly apologizing to him yet again, which was responded with a hardly-hearted "it's okay".

Hallway it was, then.

The place was riddled with bots either patrolling or cleaning the area, and there were so many of them that it was difficult to mentally map out a route. You had to weave through the multitude of tables set all across the room, making it look like an obstacle course than anything.

“Ugh, who needs this many bots in this one area?” You groaned, and you heard Gregory hum in agreement.

There wasn't an option to head back, as not only were the kitchen doors inaccessible, but Chica was still patrolling the rooms behind you. The only way was either the blue exit door or the path between the washing machines that led to a hallway. You weren't sure where the latter led to, it's hard to see from where you were. Flashing a light towards the exit door, it became clearer that it had a number at its corner.

Taking a deep breath to calm your pounding heart, you braced yourself for what needed to happen: more sneaking. "We got to get across," you told Gregory. "Let's split. Easier to run if one of us gets caught. Would you be okay with that?"

"Splitting's fine, it's just one room to cross. Hopefully."

Gregory looked at you, who was waiting for his confirmation. "Wa-wait, you actually want my answer?" he sputtered out. He honestly thought you were being rhetorical. You nodded.

"We stick together if you don't want to split." He gave you a look.

Hopefully. It seemed like the word that's been thrown around a lot tonight, whether internally or verbally. Either way it was still an all around sentiment.

"Look out!"

With a nod, the two parted. Gregory chose to weave through the center areas, so you decided to walk near the walls. You tried your best to be careful with the shelves; some of them contained bottles overhead and below that you were sure to drop if their resting spot was rattled enough.

Kinda like avoiding a bee's nest, you humored yourself.

Except the bees were inanimate objects.

Perhaps there was a better analogy for it, maybe--

Your train of thoughts was cut short by Gregory's warning. You looked ahead to see a cleaning bot coming around a table and cutting close to where you were. You immediately scampered backwards when the bot turned the corner, and although it narrowly missed bumping into you, you were soon met with another problem when you felt your back hit cold metal.

Well now you done goofed.

"RUN!"

"I-I-I'll be fine!" you responded. "Just go!"

Your voice managed to go above the bellowing sirens of the security bots. Gregory didn't need to be told twice and bolted to the hallway, weaving through the bots that were still fixated on you. As soon as he exited the room he turned around, but to his shock you were running back to where you both came.

"What are you doing?!" he called out.

You looked back, flashlights not only blinding your vision but also providing you a very much unwanted beacon. You pulled down your collar and took out the whistle around your neck.

So there's a certain point where the security bots would stop locking in once alerted. Good, he could use that for later.

Stealth be damned. You got security bots after you and soon Chica would join them. Not waiting for Gregory's reply, you blew your whistle and sprinted back to the showers. Gregory couldn't do anything else but watch your fleeting figure, the sounds of your whistle still loud but slowly fading.

"You better come back," he mumbled in frustration.

Observing the security bots, he hummed in contemplation, watching as they stopped chasing after you and instead returned to patrolling. They even stopped their alarms.

Meanwhile you found yourself squeezed into a locker. It wasn't that bad of an issue considering your stature, but purposely calling the very thing you were avoiding to your general location made your hiding spot feel too cramped for your liking. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, and if you didn't calm yourself you felt like it'd be thumping loud enough to give out your location.

At least Gregory got out, you thought. It'd be better if I did too, though.

"What..."

Not a minute later the ground rumbled slightly.

Chica was here.

You took a deep breath, clutching your hands together and pressing them close to your chest. Calm. Down.

Carefully, you peered out the louver. Chica was looking around the lockers, hunched over as always but her head raised attentively; she was actively searching.

For you.

When she turned your way you noticed her eyes had a purple glow, and if you squint hard enough you'd see it flicker to a different shade for a moment. Darker? Lighter? You couldn't quite tell, but it was definitely different.

"Where are you...?"

You soon regretted letting that slip out of your lips. Your hands now flew up to your mouth, your heartbeat picking up its pace yet again. Chica's head remained staring at your direction, unmoving as the rest of the body turned to align with it.

Now you're royally screwed.

You pressed further to the back of the locker—not that it would help anyway—while Chica stomped closer. She fully ignored the bench that was in front of her, and the sound of its metal legs scrape harshly against the tiles made you wince. Thankfully, you were able to muffle that.

The eye lights were harsher up close, and even if it was filtered by the locker's slats it felt like it burned your skin. Chica was so close now, you could hear her mechanical parts whirr and click at her every move. You clutched your face tighter, praying oh so desperately for the robot to walk away. You couldn't risk making another sound, not even a breath- wait, were you breathing? Could you breathe? Should you? Oh god, you hoped you wouldn't pass out, and more importantly you hoped you were still breathing. The panic in your chest gripped too tight for you to figure it out.

Without warning, Chica shot her hand forward and pulled a locker open; so far open that she nearly ripped the door out of its hinges. You froze, hairs at the back of your neck standing as your blood ran cold.

The stillness lingered for a second.

A second too long.

Slam!

It took all your will not to make another sound, instead squeezing your eyes shut and tightening your grip on yourself even more. The row of lockers you were in rattled at the impact of Chica slamming the empty container shut. Had she moved one more to her right and you would've been dead meat. Instead, with a disgruntled huff (robots could do that?? If it was a different situation you would've marveled at it, but right now it only made Chica all the more humane and terrifying), she gave the room another once over before storming out.

"Jesus lord almighty," you wheezed out in between pants. You really thought you were done for.

A moment passed before you burst out of the locker you hid in, practically collapsing on the floor. Your vision spun and your head throbbed, and it didn't help that you were gasping so erratically to catch your breath. You were trembling badly, you could tell from the way your hand slipped while trying to grasp on the misaligned bench.

You needed a minute on the floor or else your knees would probably give out if you tried to stand. Jelly legs, you remembered, was what they called it. Your imagination of Chica being so terrifyingly close to you became reality and was now seared in memory.

You were alive, at least. And oh so lucky to be so. After all, you wouldn't have much of a story to tell if you were dead now. Just another corpse for Fazbear Entertainment to sweep under the rug for poking their nose where it shouldn't be. You'd prefer to not add in to that body count, especially now you got a kid to look out for as well.

Ah shit, the kid. You nearly forgot you left Gregory to his own devices (though if said devices included Freddy Fazbear, you figured it wasn't an asset of his to belittle) so you could keep Chica away. You needed to get back to him, make sure he was okay. You remained sitting on the floor for a bit more before deciding to get up. You were in a much better state than a few minutes ago, but you couldn't help but notice that your hands were still shaking.

Didn't matter. If you could stand you could walk.

Pulling up your collar/mask, you retraced your steps back to the laundry area; back to Gregory.

--------------------

This place was an absolute maze.

Even after the odd bot in yellow gave you a map (and a mini heart attack to boot), you were still lost in the seemingly endless grey hallways. A lot of doors weren't accessible to you, given that you had no security badge to your name. Made you wonder if Gregory entered through the ones he could open.

"Entrance lobby," you read aloud.

Well whatever, you're in this shit show now. You signed up for this.

You wondered if you should look for Freddy instead.

After all, it was much easier to look for a bright orange 7-feet bear than a small, scrawny kid in such a large place. The thought of facing one of the Glamrocks was not a pleasant feeling however, regardless if he was Gregory's ally.

“Ah, fuck my stubborn ass,” you grumbled, taking a turn.

You were regretting your decisions even more. You could’ve easily avoided this situation and had done your investigation in a different, safer way, but the second the docks gates closed behind you there was no turning back.

"If I exit this door here I should—ah, here we are—woah..."

Get yourself together, Gabby! you scolded mentally after catching yourself staring for a minute too long. I gotta find the kid.

The lobby was larger than it looked in picture, and it clashed greatly with the unpainted walls you'd been stuck in.

Neon lights and LED screens adorned the pink walls, illuminating the place a lot more than you'd anticipated (so many colors. It's so fascinating to look at). Shops were on every side on both floors, each one one way or another Faz-themed, because why wouldn't be.

Fake palm trees lined the stairs and potted plants scattered the area as a welcoming contrast to the unnatural colors. At the center stood a golden statue of none other than Freddy Fazbear, just on top of a decorative fountain. Your mouth hung open as you marveled the place, and if the eerie silence were of any discomfort you clung onto the awe of the lights and decor.

You finally managed to move your feet to explore—no, not explore, but to look for Gregory. The lobby alone was large, you weren't quite sure where to start. Ground floor, maybe, but there's a lot of ground to cover. Maybe...

"No, that's stupid," you stopped yourself. But maybe stupid won't be too bad?

You looked around. Only one security bot circling the fountain. You found it weird that there weren't more, but you weren't complaining. You let the the bot wheel further away before you cupped a hand around your mouth.

"Gregory?"

This time, you got a response.

Your voice bounced back to you as the only response from the empty halls.

Eerie.

At least the bot wasn't alerted by it (a conflicting behavior, you noted, from what you experienced earlier. Maybe the bot had a certain hearing range). You walked around more, dodging the singular bot until you got across the center of the room. You bit the inside of your cheeks, contemplating for a second before you called for the kid again.

"Over here!"

"Help me please!"

You spun around wildly, trying to identify where the noise came from.

"Down here, in the vents!" Gregory called out.

You could hear rattling, and after a few more turns without somehow getting yourself dizzy you spotted the vent grates that were shaking just slightly. You hurried over, and as you got knelt closer you could hear the absolute panic in his voice.

He was trying to open the vents. "Hold on kid, I got you," you assured. You were already zipping your bag open, fumbling to get your swiss army knife. It didn't take long for you to find it and flip to the screwdriver. You began to undo the screws, trying to block out Gregory's pleas for you to hurry up as it was only making you antsier.

"Come on, she's after me!"

"We need to go now."

As soon as the last screw was off the grate practically flew open. Gregory sprung out of the vents like a jack-in-a-box, nearly sending you backwards.

Before you could even get a word out he was grabbing you by the back of your outer shirt and pulling you, and that was what dragged you from a squatting position to a sitting one.

They (she?) started sprinting.

You reached for your item that you dropped before scrambling back to your feet.

"Who the hell's after you?" you dared to ask, and as if to answer, a static-riddled giggle reached your ears.

You looked around frantically, but this time it didn't take as long to spot a pair of red glowing eyes within the dark of the room beside you. The shaded figure raised their hand and offered a little wave, but before you could process that or make out any more of their features—

Really.

Fucking.

Fast.

"What the fuck?!"

Another call from Gregory was enough for you to get the message. You booked it to the elevators, not daring to look back at whatever was now after you. It was no animatronic, at least, unlike the ones you were familiar with. You knew there were more of them, but you didn't know if there were those that you weren't aware of; that the public wasn't aware of. It wouldn't shock you if the Pizzaplex opened up as something else during the lull of the night.

Gregory was already at the second floor and waiting inside the open elevator, a hand over the doors to keep it from shutting. A part of you honestly wouldn't put it against him if he had left without you. Running up the stairs made your legs burn, but you couldn't care for that right now.

"Come on, come on, come on..."

You weren't going to make it. At least, not without your chaser getting in the elevator as well. You didn't want that. "Shut the door!" you yelled, earning a wide-eyed stare from Gregory. You weren't even halfway up the stairs.

"You won't make it!"

"I will!"

The reassurance felt lacking, but hearing you say it again compelled Gregory to finally drop his hand from the door. Just a few feet away now, and the door was just beginning to close, he was certain you'd make it. The footsteps behind you drew closer, faster even. You looked up, sending an apologetic smile to Gregory.

"Sorry kid!"

Gregory watched in shock as you took a sharp turn, bolting down to your right instead of straight ahead. "No, wait!" he cried out. He tried to go for the door, force it to open back up, but he was a fraction too slow and only found himself pressing his hands against the cold metal. From the other side of the door he heard the faintest thud, and then silence.

A jolly tune played and the elevator ascended.

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