Chapter Text
You jump back in time to avoid the electrical spark which emits from the keypad on the Records Office door. A newly installed feature after your failed attempt to get in last week. Thankfully, it wasn't much an issue for Sun to work around, though it was for you considering he hadn't given you any warning that it was still active. And you'd been about to grip the handle. Knowing Fazbear Entertainment, that thing probably had like 6 amps being supplied to it for... absolutely no reason.
You voice your discontent to your accomplice, "That could have killed me, you know."
"I’m well aware, friend,"Finally, the door beeps and swings open.
You glare, walking ahead through the doorway only to, mistakenly, swing it back, almost, hitting Sun.
His eyes narrow and you simply shrug, "Oops."
"Let's make this quick, hm?" He pushes the door open fully again and ducks into the space.
You couldn't agree more, frankly. The sooner this was over with, the better. After a failed attempt to get in last week, which you blamed entirely on him, this was probably going to be your last chance to look through files for a while. Unless you wanted to try your luck in the vents. But, considering they found a gift-shop employee haphazardly hanging out of one a few weeks ago, you think you'll pass.
Furthermore, things with the Daycare Attendant, in general, have been a bit sour. Tense, if you would. A large part of that being caused by you and your desire to avoid certain realizations and subject matter. Which you do do best, to be fair. To also be fair, both AI have been keeping your conversations skin-deep.
Moon has once again, skated around the issue at the heart of things and you don't have the time to sit down and confront him about it. So, you're back to the usual routine, he teases you, you offer a few brief quips of your own, and that's the end of your interactions. It, disheartens you, to an extent, but much like the kick to the gut Sun gave you, you argue that it might be for the best.
Sun is, Sun. Nothing has changed as of late. He did follow through on babysitting and your siblings were returned to you safe and sound. Though you will admit at the time it felt like it was all for naught considering you were stressed out during a good chunk of your trip.
"What do you think about this?" Abby asked you, holding up a yellow sweater.
You glanced up from your phone, smiling, "Looks nice, Abs."
She puffed out her cheeks, "Not for me, for you," She shook her head, letting the item drop back onto the rack, "I have plenty of clothes. You, however..."
"Oh," You ignored the jab, and took another look at the sweater, shrugging, "It's fine. I guess. But we're like halfway through April."
"Dude, that's when you gotta buy all your winter clothes, when they're on sale."
You examined the pile of clothes already in the cart, "But this is a tank-top, so by your logic wouldn't you buy it in the Fall?"
"No, yes, I mean," Abby groaned, "I've never had my head hurt while shopping. I hope you're happy."
You nod, answering a message from Sarah about some issue regarding the Fazcade. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Abby toss the sweater onto the pile, faceplanting into it and muttering something.
"What'd you do to her?" You turned to see Bri is back, mall pretzel in hand, "I was gone for like five minutes."
Abby popped up, "They're hopeless, Bri. Completely hopeless."
"She's being dramatic," You said, not glancing up from your phone.
Your phone is suddenly plucked from your grip, "True, but you're also not being a team player. Shopping was your idea, Y/N."
You frown, but relent, "You're right. Sorry, it's just, work has become a lot."
You also couldn't explain that the entire reason for this trip was because of Sun pretending to be you, or that the reason you were being, kind of rude, was because Sarah had you in a chokehold currently. But still.
"Then give yourself some grace and forget about it for a little bit," Bri gave your phone back, smile soft, concerned.
You consider her words for a moment, then nod, "You're right. One task at a time," You tucked your phone into your pocket.
Abby groaned again, "Not a task, fun. The goal here is to have fun."
"Right, fun. I can have fun."
Your friends share a look with each other, and start laughing.
"Hey! I can," You walked over to a clothing rack, grabbing an item at random, "Wow, look at this, it's great. Amazing. Add it to the cart."
Abby was snickering now, hand to her face, "Y/N. That's a onesie. I love you, but I don't think you could pull that off."
At that, Bri burst out laughing and you whipped your gaze back to the item in your hand. They were indeed, red and white-striped pajamas.
Your face burns and you dropped them, scowl on your face as you walked away, "Why do they even have that out here? Stop laughing! I'll prove to you both I have taste, and can have fun."
While your phone did continue to buzz in your pocket, you ignored it in favor of spending time with your friends. And in the end, did get some things to add to your closet, though you still didn't see the point because your wardrobe was fine-you allowed yourself to spend just a little bit on yourself. Money and time-wise, even though you had little of either.
You don't have much time for anything at all, to be honest. This new job is kicking your ass, mainly because you're doing more than your fair share of the work for said job. Sarah-and Rachel-are still on your ass about this 'red folder' thing and you would have gotten it figured out sooner, expect that you may have shut the door to George's office the last time you were in there and ended up locking yourself out.
And since George's keys are, wherever his mangled corpse ended up, you'd had to wait a bit for new keys to be made. Typically they just call the locksmith and bust the door open, but the other division heads, in particular Jerry of all people, had been insistent that no one outside the company deals with the problem. And that practically no one inside knows about it.
The entire situation is incredibly suspicious, but until you can actually get back into the office you don't know what it all means. Keys should be ready sometime this week, and then you could hopefully put this issue to rest and finally tell Sarah to piss off. Maybe then you could get back to actual engineering work.
In the meantime, DJ Music Man finally got his legs, and now you've started on renovating the West Arcade overall. After brainstorming with Pete (and Tyler), the idea of tunnels came up, and it took off from there. The idea for updating the stage also got brought up, and so you'd been working on designs for that as well.
So in total, dealing with Sun or Moon, was on the very bottom of your list. And really, while this wasn't the ideal situation, it was functional. Practical. What you had intended when you started all of this. You've gotten exactly what you wanted, really.
So why weren't you-
"I'm not paying you to stand around, Bright Eyes."
You snort, "You're not paying me at all. You're broke as far as I can tell." You briefly imagine what the animatronics would do if they did have access to currency. It probably wouldn't go well, you're certain.
"I'm paying you in cooperation and patience, which is currently running very thin," His faceplate emits a few clicks, and then turns back to the papers in his hands.
You swallow a harsher comment, muttering out a simple, "Sure," instead.
Going back to your pile, you're turning up much of nothing. Order intakes from the food supplier, ticket sales, an invoice meant for George-wait. You snag that paper back, reading it over. It was dated from, a couple years ago, before you started working here. The supplies on the list didn't seem to out of the ordinary, steel rods, aluminum sheets, an assortment of different gears, usual things for upkeep and repairs and the likes. But there was one item in particular that stuck out as, peculiar.
To someone without a trained eye, they'd consider it something normal for a purchase order for an engineering department. You, however, knew otherwise. Specifically, it was that Fazbear Entertainment exclusively used 304 stainless steel or a weaker grade-which you'd been working on fixing personally-for almost everything within the Plex. If it was different, that meant it wouldn't be used on the animatronics, but more like the raceway or a similar application.
So then what the hell is 316, the stronger, more corrosion resistant, and more expensive, cousin of 304 doing on this list? You can't think of any applications where it would be needed, and only a small amount was purchased too. A high-quality, medical grade steel had no place in the PizzaPlex.
You look at the name who submitted the form, it's smudged, illegible. The handwriting's a bit bad, too, on top of it. But, however, they had managed to get the entire purchase approved, George's own signature scrawled at the bottom. You snap a picture of the form and put it back where you found it. Could it be nothing? Sure. But you wanted to find that out for yourself. Bring it up casually to one of your teammates who's been here longer than you, see what you can find out.
"Anything fruitful?" Sun asks you a little later.
You consider telling him about the invoice, but then recall the reminder he gave you regarding 'issues that deter from his goals' and keep your mouth shut.
"No, not yet."
He sighs, irate, if it wasn't him it would make you laugh, "Well, it's going to have to be enough. We have less than three minutes now."
You check your watch, seeing that he's right. Guard shift should be changing any minute now.
"I'm telling you, there's got to be something in what we already have and we're just, not seeing it," You start putting files back in their proper places.
Sun stands over you now, waiting, "Or, we're simply not looking in the right place."
"Where else is there? This is the place for every single file this company has."
The door is held open for you, "Not every file, you forget there exists an entire online database that we've yet to gain access to."
"Yeah, yeah, working on it. Being a division head and a team leader isn't easy, y'know?" You scratch your neck, yawning. Even the thought of work is making you tired right now.
Sun joins you in the hallway, "I wouldn't. My purpose is to facilitate a Daycare-What are you looking at?"
You point. Your focus is down the hall, where a figure is messing with the vending machine. They seem to be trying to figure out how to get it open, pulling at it, kicking, punching numbers. Typically this wouldn't perturb you. But one look at the axe that's leaning against the wall beside them has you feeling otherwise.
You feel Sun slowly pull you back into him, his own form covering yours in the shadowed hallway.
"What are you doing?" You hiss.
A quiet click, "Doing you a favor."
The phrasing rubs you wrong, especially after the last 'favor' he did for you. You make that clear, squirming and speaking under your breath, "I don't care, you're the last person I want touching me right now." If you're gonna die, you sure as hell don't want to go out like this.
"The feeling is mutual, Starlight, but I really must insist if you value your life you'll stay. Still."
But it's too late.
The figure stops messing with the vending machine, and turns to face you both. Then they raise a hand, waving. If they didn't notice you before, they definitely see you now.
"sh*t," You whisper.
In a swift movement, Sun has picked you up, and takes long strides down the corridor in the opposite direction, back where you both came from. You peak over his shoulder, the figure is still at the other end of the hall. They've stopped waving and instead, give you a thumbs up. Which you do not return because you are very confused.
You make it back to the Daycare, unscathed and not caught by any one or any thing. Including the night guards. So you count that as a win. Besides that though, this trip didn't yield many results, in your opinion at least.
Sun sets you down again when you're in the clear, and you're all but too happy to be out of his arms once more.
"Guess that'll be our last trip for a while," You state, brushing yourself off.
Sun closes the Daycare doors, "Unfortunately, I believe you may be right. Until the basem*nt dweller's identity has been solved, it may be for the best to work on alternative methods of investigation."
"So what you're saying was that I was right."
A few clicks, "No, that is not what I said."
"Mmm, I think it was," You smirk, shrugging while you're at it, "It's okay, you don't have to admit it. I know how hard that is for you."
Sun scoffs, arms crossed,"You're unbelievable."
"Thank you," You take a quick bow, "I try."
He huffs, and you start to laugh, and then remember the words he spoke after mini-golf.
You sober up, "Well, I should get back to work," You head back over to your bean bag, sitting down.
He glances back over to you, watching for a moment or so, his rays clicking to one side, "Right."
You open your laptop up and get into work mode again. After the adrenaline rush from a little bit ago, you're now wide awake, ready to tackle, something. Anything really at this point you're so beaten down from the world right now. Getting just something done to completion would give you the dopamine boost that you desperately need.
You work on tackling more customer complaints, since that's such a mindless task and you want it done as soon as humanly possible. You've gotten to the point where you can't even bother reading them, it's that bad. Everything is always the same, lines are too long, pizza has too much sauce, pizza doesn't have enough sauce, the animatronics are always too busy. On and on, you have to go through these same things. You almost wish you had something worse to deal with just for a bit of excitement.
"Very to the point tonight, aren't you, Diana?"
"You noticed that," You comment, typing away an angry email to Sarah. You won't actually send it, bit too many swears to be considered professional, but it makes you feel better for at least a little while.
Moon descends into your field of vision, hanging upside down from the wire, "Of course. I don't have much else better to do."
"I gave you the internet," You snort, "You hardly have any reason to be bored if that's what you're saying."
"On the contrary, I find your exchanges to be, amusing."
"That's one way to put it," You swipe your coffee the same time he reaches down to snatch it himself.
The naptime attendant's eyes narrow, and in return you shrug, smirk on your lips as you sip your drink.
"He has his reasons, you know."
"Hm?" You look up, setting your drink back down, "You mean Sun?"
Moon nods.
You roll your eyes, "Sure, don't we all. I shouldn't have tried to trick him, I get it. I know better now," You look down at your hands, fidgeting, "And I'm remorseful, even if I haven't been the most transparent about it. When I should be."
You continue, leaning back in your seat, hands in your lap as you stare up at the glow in the dark stickers on the ceiling, "Though to be fair he got me back pretty good. Being framed for murder more than makes up for a bit of faking it for the pursuit of knowledge. And he did the same thing to me too," You wag your finger at Moon.
The bot chuckles, "I wasn't judging you, Andromeda. You'll see no ill-will from me for being, on the offensive."
"Good, I was afraid I was going to have to get physical about it."
Another laugh, "And what would that entail?"
"I dunno, but you wouldn't want to find out," You put your fists up in the air, knocking them together, "You've caught these hands before, be a shame to have to use them on you again."
"Consider me afraid."
You hum, reaching down for your coffee again.
"What I meant," You hear a few clicks, "Is that it's not your fault. It's a case of opportunity, rather than intent."
You wave your hand, "Oh, I know that," You did not, but now you're committed, "Don't tell me you want us to be friends now, do you Moon-man? I can't even seem to handle one robot friendship," You half-mutter the last part.
"You should give him a chance yes, but keep your distance," Moon grips the wire, faceplate spinning, "Or it's going to cost you again."
You nod, thinking on the advice. Suddenly something clicks for you.
"That's why you're mad," Your eyes widen, "You don't want me to get hurt by Sun again. Right?"
The Attendant's faceplate spins a few times. Not responding. Then, "Yes. That's it," There's a spillover of binary that happens then, but you don't think much of it.
You scoff, voice soft, "Well why didn't you just say so?"
More binary, "It was a matter of, timing. I needed it in order to, collect my thoughts."
"Takes a month or more to collect your thoughts?" You ask, amused.
"I procrastinated," Moon's hat jingle as he shifts, "And, confrontation, is not my strong suit."
You laugh quietly, sitting up, "I can tell."
"But, while it has been some time since you've offered it, I accept your apology. If you'll accept mine."
You pull your knees up to rest your chin on them, "I don't know, in a workplace environment being over three weeks late is means for termination."
"Perhaps upper management could look the other way just this once if an offer is proposed?" Moon twists into a different position, tease light.
"Bribery? How bold of you, Mr. Moon," You feel a smirk settle on to your features, "Upper management is listening."
His eyes narrow, gleeful, "Would knowledge of the location of an onsite espresso machine be of interest to you?"
You lean forward, eyebrows raising slightly, "Very much so, in exchange for continuing your employment at the Y/N Friend LLC?"
He nods.
"Hmm," You tilt your head back and forth, then offer your hand out to the bot with a quick nod, "Upper management accepts this deal."
Both of you snicker as you shake hands.
"I can't believe you'd go against your programming like that and allow for caffeine consumption to occur under your watch."
"Well, I never said the machine was currently operational," With that, Moon zooms back up into the darkness, chuckling all the while.
You cup a hand to your mouth, scowling, "I'm going to write you up for deceit and mistrust against your employer!"
"You can try," You hear somewhere up above you.
You get the keys to George's, well, your new office, on Thursday. However, Gabe has a doctor's appointment, and you volunteered to help out with the Outdoor Adventure club's fundraiser after school. So the soonest you can get back and at least set yourself up for Friday is that evening during soccer practice.
You'd left Gabriel upstairs in Sun's care, which you're sure he delighted in given that the Daycare hasn't started summer hours yet. Or maybe not, who's to say with him. Regardless, you had work to do tomorrow and you didn't want to spend your short shift cleaning up the disaster area that was your former boss's office space. It was also only seven, so Basem*nt 1 was still relatively occupied with Parts n Service crew and some maintenance staff.
The keys turn the lock with a click, and you push the door open. Turning on the light, you cough as you realize the amount of dust that's collected in here. Guess it's been longer than you thought.
It's hard to know where to begin, you didn't bother changing stuff around in order to keep up the illusion George was still in here. Therefore, you had literal piles of scrap to sift through-you weren't going to let any good parts go to waste you know-on top of organizing the desk and shelves.
The place needed a makeover, a glow up, if you will. If you planned to be spending any time in here beyond basic corporate needs, that is. It smelled musty like a machine shop, and George's organization style wasn't one you'd ever been really fond of.
You decide to go through the scrap first, getting at least part of a pile done before you nick your finger and quit. You've got nothing to wipe off the shelves, and they mostly consist of old manuals and engineering textbooks, so you doubted there was anything worth the effort of throwing away. You might read them, even. If you got bored enough, that is.
Next week is when you'll be calling off this 'training' Sarah's been putting you through, it's been long enough. You almost think she's getting tired of it as well, but that's probably wishful thinking. Therefore, you should have plenty to do in terms of your own work load.
The desk is exactly how it was that night in November. Or pretty close to it, anyway. You might've shuffled around some papers to look for something once or twice, but that's about it. The, now old, forms take you back. You'd been struggling just to become a Senior Engineer, make just a bit more money to help get by. Now you were the division head. Frightening to think about, really.
You stack the old forms in a pile, along with the other things on the desk. You stare at the photo frame sitting on the corner. You take it, and set it right side down onto the stack of papers.
For some reason, the picture reminds you of the folder you're supposed to be going through. You search through the drawers, not finding anything. Though 'red folder' wasn't a great descriptor, if you're being honest.
Your only guess is that it must be in the locked drawer on the left side, the big one. You try the keys you were given from the locksmith, no luck with any of them. You almost wonder if it's now lost to time with your old boss, when you think to reach a hand under the desk, feeling around under the bottom surface.
After a couple seconds your fingers snag on something jagged. Pulling it out it is, indeed, a key. You hold it up, looks like it'll fit.
You grin to yourself, "Same trick every time, huh old man?"
George did the same thing with every key he wanted to keep hidden. You know, because that's how you'd found the keys to the storage rooms in Basem*nt 3, and found the scraps for the Daycare Attendant's head. They'd been hiding under the Basem*nt 1 conference room table. As was the key to one of the vending machine supply closets.
Sure enough, the key opens the drawer and it creaks open. It's a lot heavier than you were expecting. Inside there's some spare parts and-oh. Wow.
That's a lot of red folders.
You reach in, pushing them around and see there's a stack hidden underneath the ones which were hanging. That's, a lot of red folders.
You check the label on one, it reads 'Cases 30-42, Oct-Dec 2XXX'. You pick up another, 'Cases 57-63, Apr-Jun 2XXX'. You skim the contents briefly. Then another. And another.
They're all, they're all incident reports. Written largely by the guy you remember from the Records Office files. And these are, a lot more graphic, than the versions from upstairs. And there's so many more of them, for that matter.
You're starting to realize that your old boss may have been a bit busier than you thought. And that you may have just gotten yourself in further over your head than you'd first assumed.
Again.
"Oi, George, where've you been? Haven't had sh*te to eat in ages and you haven't been-You're not George."
You turn, very confused and slightly alarmed. You jump, startled. The folder in your hand almost slipping from your shaky grip.
Standing behind your new desk-and you for that matter-is a person wearing blue coveralls you recognize from Parts and Services. Underneath you can see a dingy yellow shirt and ragged dark blue tie. Honestly, the coveralls aren't in great shape either and- why are their hands purple. Why-you look up. Your heart drops to your stomach. Fear crawls through your limbs and has an iron grip on your entire form.
They're wearing a whiteish mask. With bear ears.
You start screaming.
The person in the mask, also starts screaming.
You are both standing there screaming at each other. You out of fear, the stranger, you have no idea why they're screaming.
Not knowing what else to do, you grab for your taser in your pocket and jam it into the person. You do not think to turn it on.
So now you are standing there, still screaming, with the prongs of your taser practically impaling the person in front of you.
Oh, and they're also still screaming.
So much for that glow up.
