Chapter Text
Monty had another tantrum last night and his couch was ruined, completely destroyed. Like wrecked. You would, without hesitation, sell your soul to be that couch.
Unfortunately, being an unpaid intern only allowed you to order and polish his new nails. What made this internship great, was being able to clock in just in time to see the Glamrock’s closing performance.
Your parents weren't very fond of your late work hours but they dealt with it because it looked mighty fine on your resume. Your mom would leave you dinner to take to work with a drawing of Freddy on a sticky note. She knew how much you loved the Glamrocks.
You were in the repair room down in Parts and Services, hammering out dents on bots and replacing what couldn’t be fixed with a good wack. Monty, who at the moment was the light of your life and simultaneously the bane of your existence, was to blame for the growing traffic of broken bots. You rummaged around your toolbox but couldn’t feel your favorite wrench. You groaned, remembering a friend who asked to borrow it hadn't returned it. You got up from your cross-legged position on your mat to search for the tool yourself.
The night guard, you, and rarely your boss, were the only ones who stayed in the plex after hours. You moved down the hall, a flashlight in hand, to where your coworkers would work on their electric repairs to see if maybe what you were looking for was there. On the way down, you must have taken a wrong turn because you’ve never been here. Endoskeletons littered the walls and shelves. Spare parts maybe. Looked like a graveyard. You were about to turn back when from the corner of your eye, you spotted what the internet had been theorizing about since the opening of the plex.
Glamrock Fucking Bonnie. Well, more like his decommissioned remains. He was a loved member of the Glamrock band but a few months into the opening of the plex, the company said he was in a tragic accident and was never mentioned again. Scanning him with your flashlight, the only thing that let you identify him was an iconic ear that was still in one piece. His entire bottom half was missing, most of his endoskeleton was exposed, his paint glowed a dull watered-down lilac from lack of care, and his face held deep cracks, suggesting it was smashed in.
You felt the ever-abiding pangs of sadness crawl up your chest, the same ones that would strangle you whenever you witnessed an abused dog on the T.V. You squinted. It seems like no one even attempted to fix him.
“Do you think the boss would notice if I tinkered with you a bit?” You asked Bonnie’s inanimate body. He was covered in cobwebs; that was enough of an answer.
Suddenly, “Would I notice what now?” Your manager's voice came from behind you, making you jump. He glances around you and spots Bonnie. “Oh! So that’s where I left him,” Joe, as he likes to be called, stated. “Upper management asked me to put him in storage a while back but I lost track of him. Must have been collecting dust since then. Poor guy.”
“Oh, so, storage? Why hasn’t anybody fixed him? Seeing as he’s kind of an icon.”
“Not sure,” he shrugged, “it would be nearly impossible to repair him, that might be why.”
Nearly impossible. In other words, possible. “Hey, you think I could give it a shot. At fixing him?”
“Uh, I don’t know. They don't want him being messed with.”
"Come on, I can’t make it any worse, and I won't ask for a bonus."
"Bonus—I don't pay you at all," he laughed and shook his head good-naturedly, “Ok go for it, kid.”
“Really? I can work on his repairs,” you smirked, “just to be clear, I can do anything with him?”
“Don’t make me regret this,” Joe rolled his eyes. He helped you move Bonnie to your workroom after warning you that nothing better leave the plex and the public isn’t to know about this.
You were still expected to finish your quota. Bonnie would be a side project if anyone asked, but now you had definite motivation to get your work done early. You managed to repair the family RV when your dad said, “it had a good run.” You could repair a busted-up animatronic.
You giggled silently, thinking about how this would make you look. People would know your name. Your face would be on magazine covers. The mechanic who brought back Bonnie. That settles it, you were going to fix Bonnie.
The next evening, after watching the closing show, you found yourself in the workroom, ostensibly busying yourself while in actuality you were waiting for the day shift workers to wrap things up and leave. Once you were alone, you lifted out Bonnie’s head from the enormous box under your desk. You started taking inventory of all the pieces he had and didn’t have. You were startled out of your work when you heard your coworker behind you.
“I noticed you were basically skipping to work earlier,” Leo said, he was one of the day shift employees, “usually you don’t get this happy until after the show.”
You turned to face him, realizing he most definitely would notice Bonnie if he got any closer but you still attempted to block his view anyway.
There was a pause before, “Oh my god,” Leo said slowly. You didn’t know what he was doing here at this hour. He must have forgotten something and had to drive back for it. “Is that Glamrock Fucking Bonnie? Dude, where did you even get him?”
“You’re not supposed to be down here,” you said accusingly, crossing your arms.
“Um, I work here, remember,” he walked closer, phone raised.
You realized too late it was to take a picture. Your eyes widened marginally in worry, “delete it. No one’s supposed to know I’m working on him. It’ll be hell for PR if anyone finds out.”
He raised a brow, “Are you supposed to be working on him?”
You placed your fists on your hips indignantly, “Yes, Joe gave me permission.”
“Ugh,” Leo groaned, annoyed, but proceeded to delete the photo, “he’d let you do anything apparently.”
“Apparently?” What was that supposed to mean?
Yeah, I mean,” he gestured to you jokingly with a playful grin, “how do I—uh, you know.”
You didn’t know, “What exactly are you trying to say, man?”
“You’re an intern, you don’t actually do anything.”
What!” Yeah, you figured that was what he meant. He’s always looked down on unpaid interns. He was once an unpaid intern, he’s just been here longer when a position opened.
“That’s a good thing, that’s a good thing,” he assured, “you just don’t have any real experience in animatronic engineering.”
You grimace, face turning up in anger, you hated when others looked down on your skills. “Whatever Leo, just, let me work in peace.”
He said your name, apologetically but you weren’t having it. “Come on, I don’t mean anything bad by it.” He sighed and after a moment of being ignored, walked out.
“Oh, and don’t go telling people about Bonnie,” You shouted after him.
Freddy was heading to his room after the last show when he bumped into an employee who turned the corner. “Oh, sorry,” He said, then caught the man before he could fall and did a quick scan of his face, “Leo,” the only information that was crucial to know about anyone was their name, birthdate, and favorite Fizzy Faz flavor, so that’s all he had in his database. But he did recognize Leo from the day shift repair team. Freddy smiled, “It’s nice to see you but you should really be getting home.” Freddy was always a stickler for the rules and he knew it. “What are you doing here?”
“Yeah I know, I’m on my way out. I just came to ask a friend something but they’re,” he paused as if choosing his words carefully, “in a mood.”
“Oh?” someone else was in the plex after hours.
“Yeah, they’ve got permission to work on Bonnie’s repairs and now they think they’re the shit,” Leo flinched after realizing he cursed but the reprimand from Freddy never came.
The bear was too busy festering in shock, his jaw wide open. Bonnie was going to be fixed. He was going to see Bonnie. It’s been so long. He was really going to see Bonnie. Wait, who was going to repair him?
“Who is this friend of yours? You say they’re upset?”
“Oh yeah,” Leo grinned, “you should go try and cheer them up, you’ll probably make their fu—uh, freaking week. They’re in the workroom.”
“I’ll head there right away!” Freddy said excitedly, he was so ecstatic, he almost forgot to wave goodbye to Leo and had completely forgotten about getting him out of the plex before it was officially closed. His mind was on his best friend Bonnie and how they’ll get to play together again. God, did he miss him. He had lost hope in ever seeing him when his decommissioning was announced. Whoever this necromancer was, Freddy owed them everything.
Freddy hit his head a few times on hanging signs on his way down. He was just so excited to meet you that he nearly disregarded his environment completely until he reached the workroom. He would have knocked but the door was wide open. Had Leo said the workroom? Freddy regretted leaving in such a rush. Now he might be in the wrong room. There weren’t any of the sounds of clanking metal that usually followed the maintenance crew wherever they went. He let out a sigh, about to turn around and test his luck elsewhere when the sound of quiet puffs of breath reached his ears. Walking back in, he was greeted by a curious sight. You were sitting on the ground, leaning on the side of a large box, and Bonnie’s head on your lap; the underside of his head had wires connected to your laptop.
Oh, even after all these years, he still couldn’t bring himself to look at Bonnie’s broken face. So instead he stared at you. He gave you a scan and smiled at your name. He also noted you were deep asleep. He’s only ever seen toddlers at the daycare sleep and the occasional exhausted child. This is the second time an adult has slept in his presence. For the longest time, he and his friends had believed adults required external stimuli to fall asleep. A purse had been left behind once in the Pizza Plex with a bottle of sleeping pills. If no one came and got their things from the lost and found after two months, the items would end up in the dumpster.
Since Chica, Roxy nor Monty cared if the adults around them seemed to be fully rested, Freddy took it upon himself to help adults sleep when they looked tired. He still has them, the bottle stuffed into the back of one of his plushies. But now he knows better. He smiled after remembering when he got a husband in trouble with his wife for missing over half their child’s birthday party. It was Moon who had to explain to everyone that yes, adults do sleep and that what he had in that bottle was meant to help insomniacs.
With that information, his pool of people in need of his assistance shrunk drastically. He wished whether someone was an insomniac was information he was privy to know. You were probably not an insomniac seeing as you could fall asleep in such an uncomfortable position. But you were most definitely depleting yourself. It wouldn’t hurt if you took a nap here and there and Freddy still had plenty of sleeping pills. Your lovely face sure as heck helped him make up his mind. He walked closer. He hadn’t expected Bonnie’s fixer to be so cute. He would gladly help you sleep if it meant he could see this face more often.
A loud, “CLANG!” interrupted him and startled you out of your power nap. Oops, he had kicked over a fire extinguisher.
You jolted up, fumbling with the infirmity on your lap before you remembered your name and what year it was. You looked up to see the leading star of your dreams hovering sheepishly over you. “Am I still dreaming?” You mumbled out before turning red. You groaned internally. Of ALL the first words you could have possibly said to Freddy.
He chuckled. Hot damn, he’s even more of a dilf up close.
“You are fixing Bonnie, correct?” He asked kindly.
“How did you..?” You cursed Leo’s descendants and then thought actually, it was ok if Freddy knew. He had a right to. Freddy and Bonnie were a pair back in the day. Best of friends, inseparable. “Nevermind. Yeah. he’s in pretty bad shape though,” that seemed to be the wrong thing to say because Freddy’s expression dropped. You were about to stutter out an apology when his expression lightened up significantly.
“But you’ll be able to fix him right? You can do it?”
You were about to tell him not to get his hopes up. That you were only trying and that you had no official experience with fixing animatronics but Freddy was staring at you as if you hung the stars and invented frosting. You bit the inside of your cheek. No, you weren’t going to tell him that. Ah, what the heck, you couldn’t say no to your idol if you tried. It felt so good knowing you put that expression on his face.
You immediately find yourself grateful for your choices when you tell him, “Don’t worry, Freddy, I’ll fix Bonnie up,” and Freddy practically dances around the workroom.
“Oh superstar, you don’t know how important this is to me!” He lifts you in a bear hug. You let out a breath and quickly hug him back as he shook you side to side. A giddy laugh left your lips. Freddy feels like he’s won the lottery with you. He sets you down but doesn't release your hands. The bear holds them up to his chest to show the sincerity in his next words. “If you need anything, and I mean anything , anything at all, just ask and I’ll get it,” and he means it. There’s nothing in the world he wouldn’t do to see Bonnie again.
“Ok, Freddy, I’ll come to you,” You assured.
“Thank you, I thought, well, it doesn’t matter now. Thank you, truly. I owe you the world.” He gave you one last hug and you savored it.
You giggle into your hand when he sends you a wink on his way out. You felt yourself burn up and your giggle turned hysterical from there. That wink drives you for the rest of the night. You know it couldn’t have meant anything, he sends winks to the crowd during concerts all the time but you can’t help but feel a zoo explode in your tummy anyway. You suppress grins and fond sighs the rest of your shift the same way you suppress hiccups. The bear never left your mind.
That is until you crossed another animatronic’s path on your way out of work. This time you were awake enough to feel and hear the thumping of their feet as they headed towards you. You stopped since you had never been this close to any of the Glamrocks prior to a few hours ago therefore, it took you a few seconds to realize one of them was heading your way. You couldn’t believe your luck. You were going to meet two animatronics in one day.
This time you vowed you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself. Be casual, be cool, you chanted in your head. Monty turned the corner and stopped when he spotted you.
“Hey, you the one fixin’ Bonnie?” He looked you up and down—wait. Was he checking you out? No, no way. Right? He didn’t even look to be in a good mood. It took a herculean might not to let your eyebrows rise to the ceiling.
“Yeah, Mr. Gator,” you said, and his jaw opened, seemingly caught off guard by your formality. So far so good, “Yeah, I’m working on him,” there, you answered him. Now shut up and don’t freak him out. “Also, I just wanted to say I loved your solo at your last show—all of your shows really but I can only go to your last shows, the whole band’s shows I mean—” so much for your plan of staying cool. His eyes widened for a second before he grinned down at you, patiently waiting for you to finish. You might as well go all the way, “I’m your biggest fan by the way,” that seemed to have gotten him good. He kept the same expression but his tail began to wag behind him.
He threw his head back in a thunderous laugh, it wasn’t mocking but you still felt like hiding under your shirt. Before you could make a bigger embarrassment of yourself, he spoke, “‘Biggest fan’, aye?” His smirk widened, “Bigger fan of me than you are of the rest of the band, right?” he asked but what he really wanted to know was if you were a bigger fan of his than you were of Freddy.
“Oh yes,” You said automatically, in fear of disappointing your idol but he took it as confidence in your answer, “You’re my favorite. Can you uh,” you brought out your Monty themed lanyard and a pen then held them out to him, “can you sign this?”
Somehow, his smirk widened, and his tail wagged violently behind him, “Sure thing Cher, anything for my biggest fan.” He twirled the pin expertly between his fingers and even though you’ve seen it done a dozen times online, the magic had returned because it was Monty doing it. He signed your lanyard and held both items out to you. You couldn’t help but let out a quiet squeal as you put your now most valuable possession around your neck. He laughed again and gave your head a ruffle. You just kept making a fool of yourself. You hoped Monty didn’t mind.
Monty in fact, was loving your attention. He could stay here and listen to you stutter sweetly about him all night. It’s been a while since he’s had one-on-one time with such a fanatic fan. This is what it was all for. He placed an arm on the wall and leaned closer, “Hey, so you really gonna fix ol’ Bonnie?” His voice was low, as if not wanting eavesdroppers to hear.
“Yeah, I’m getting his processor cleaned out. It might take a while. I know you’re close with Freddy but maybe don’t tell him. He seems desperate for good news.”
Monty paused. Blinked and then blinked again. It took him a moment before the information hit him. You thought Freddy and he were friends. Freddy was his rival, barely acquaintance. He had forgotten the public didn’t know that.
“Right Right, don’t worry Cher.” Monty and you began walking towards the back exit. “Ey, speaking of Freddy,” Monty had an embarrassing story of Freddy reserved for when he came across those who were both Monty and Freddy fans and while he saw you as a Monty fan, it couldn’t hurt to steer you away from liking Freddy, “We’ve always been told never to dance with cake in storage, But Freddy had been dancin' for a fat minute, and I guess he forgot a damn cake in him cuz hours later, he opened his storage and it looked like a unicorn died in there. The whole thing had melted from the heating system. That's how we found out why Freddy can’t dance with cake.”
You leaned on the exit door and your laugh could have killed a lesser man. Monty had to consciously stop his tail from swaying.
They really went overboard that time so it was strange when the guard hadn’t even come down to check on them. Moon, being the sneakiest, glided over there and checked on the guard. This also happened to be when they realized the security guard took naps at midnight.
“That’s—that’s amazing, man I wish I could have seen that. If only I had started working here sooner.”
Monty wondered why this was the first time he had made contact with you. He came looking to get some answers out of you and left feeling lighter. “Maybe you will,” he felt like getting up close to you and he didn’t know why. Maybe it was because you were leaving and he was having such a nice time. “Hey, you got a shift tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“Great,” he pushed his sunglasses up, “I’ll meet you at your workroom after the show, if that’s alright with you Cher?” Monty asked.
You nodded vigorously then pulled yourself together, “Yes please,” that didn’t sound like you were holding it together. Monty wanted to hang out with you. You must have been a saint in your past life or something because this was a dream come true.
Monty heard his fans run loudly at your plea. “You’re alright company,” he said, then walked away. Alright company was a cover for you being like fucking therapy.
You grinned and stepped out of the plex, then turned just in time for him to also turn and throw a peace sign at you. Your grin spread wider and you threw a peace sign back. His eyes could still be felt on your back when you turned to your ride. You used all your willpower to walk like a normal person.
The next evening, at the last performance of the day, Monty couldn’t see you but the thought that you were somewhere in the crowd had him puffing out his chest like a peacock and playing his bass with more vigor than he’s had all day.
His bandmates took notice of his suspiciously good behavior but didn’t comment since they were also in unusually happy moods. Freddy more so than the others and it was all because of a certain mechanic.
Monty walked off stage and made a beeline for your workroom.
“Dang, he hates your breath that much, huh?” Roxy gently elbowed Chica, “I told you to wash your beak last night.”
Chica huffed but smiled anyway after elbowing Roxy back.
“Do you think he’s going to visit the mechanic?” Freddy asked. Something about that thought didn’t settle right with Freddy. He didn’t understand why.
“Probably, I should go see too. I wanna ask how long till Bonnie’s back,” Chica cooed, “You already went to see the Lone Mechanic, right Freddy?”
Lone Mechanic, as the animatronics had heroically christened you after hearing you were going to fix Bonnie.
“Huh?” Freddy hummed, caught off guard, and brought out of his thoughts, “oh, yes I have,” he said before joining his friends on their way to their rooms.
Monty on the other hand, headed to where he promised to be last night. The show was over and now he was finally going to see you. How had he made it his whole life without someone like you to keep him grounded. Just thinking about you had him grinning. He was in such a hurry he almost missed the workroom door. The sliding door pulled apart silently at his presence.
You peeked out from around the corner wearily. You didn’t want another Leo situation, but then your face morphed into elation at the sight of him. “Monty!”
Oh yeah, that’s just how he liked to be greeted.
“Cher!” Monty called back just as enthusiastically. You were just perfect.
“I saw your show again. And you're probably getting tired of hearing me say this but it was awesome .”
“I could never get tired of your compliments,” He could perhaps live off of them. He hoped you never stopped. Was this all it took from him to unwind? He could have been here with you this whole time instead of festering in his envy for Freddy. He was already in your space but the urge to get closer grew. So he did. You didn’t seem to mind, still grinning from ear to ear. For that reason, he tested his luck and took another step.
And as if his luck had actually run out, the brief period was interrupted by a few knocks. Monty looked back to see what dolt dared interrupt this precious moment. You looked around Monty and found Leo leaning against the door frame.
"Good evening," Leo said.
It was until you showed up, Monty thought but he didn't growl like he so desired. Who the heck was this?
“It’s an ok evening,” you joked with a half-grin, trying to break the strange air in the room.
"Hey listen,” his eyes flickered up to Monty, not wanting an audience, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge the gator, “I’m sorry about yesterday. I guess I was sort of out of line, I know I can be annoying sometimes—"
Understatement of the century. Now this time, Monty did growl. His patience was wearing thin, this conversation seemed like it was gonna drag on.
Both the humans looked up at Monty, concerned.
Leo’s stare conveyed annoyance. He pushed himself away from the door frame and said, “I was thinking I could make it up to you by,” the last word was stretched, in an attempt to add suspense for the surprise behind his back but it only brought annoyance to the animatronic. Leo moved to the side to get a better view of you and pulled out a pair of shiny silver slips. “Tickets to Manic Parade!”
Oh. Oh no. You made a face subconsciously. “Leo, are you… asking me out?” Not only did you not want to string Leo along, but you also wouldn't even be able to enjoy yourself at the concert. You didn’t even like Manic Parade. Leo knew very well your favorite band was the Glamrocks. You declared it to the dark of the Plex all night sometimes. You, now jokingly dubbed by your coworkers, as the fangirl who would "pay Freddy to step on me." A line that was said in an incredibly echoey empty Pizza Plex. The plex had said it back to you to your slight embarrassment but you were the first one to burst out in giggles so your friends weren't too guilty about your new title.
“No—yes! I mean—if you want it to be, it doesn’t have to be… a date?”
Monty had the strongest urge to throttle him by the neck or toss him out of the room or hide you behind him or just anything that halted this interaction in its tracks and he didn’t know why. All the rage that had simmered down in your presence was accumulating, boiling over, again within a few seconds of Leo talking. And that’s when it hit him. He liked you. He really liked you. Liked you enough to get pissed when a dweeb like Leo held your attention. He was about to lose you before he could even have you, right as he realized he wanted you. That thought made his cooling system work itself into exhaustion, steam escaping from his maw. Before he could take action and rip Leo’s face off in a rage, you stepped around him to face Leo better. Oh no, were you actually going to accept his proposal? He felt something he’s never felt weighing down his insides, fear.
Your ears redden, and frowned, covering up your embarrassment with anger. How could Leo put you on the spot like that? He probably thought with an audience you’d say yes. He probably thought with a mediocre apology he could get his way. You weren't in customer service, you worked behind the scene so you wouldn’t have to deal with entitled pricks like Leo. You were having such a nice time with Monty, growing something beautiful. “Uh no, ” blunt and to the point. Exactly how you’re supposed to deal with these people, “sorry Leo.”
Monty’s shoulders relaxed a smidge and a smirk threatened to invade his maw; he felt like letting out a sigh of relief. What was he even worried about? You were smart enough to not want to be seen with this idiot.
“No?” Leo’s smile fell. “That's—that's ok, we can just go as friends.”
“No Leo, I mean I don’t really want to go. I’ve got a busy schedule.”
“It’s on one of your days off,” he shook the tickets as if beckoning you like a dog.
“Leo I…” You paused, “Wait, how do you know my days off?” That knowledge was kept private between manager and individual worker, “we don’t even have shifts together.”
A brief expression of guilt passed Leo’s face before he swiftly covered it up with a shrug and a sheepish grin, not elaborating on how he knew.
“You know what,” you said, waving a hand around, “forget it, the point is I’m not going.”
Leo’s whole nervous-guy-asking-his-crush-out demeanor fell. His face scrunched up, agitated, bewildered at the rejection. “But I already bought the tickets?”
“Then return them.”
“They’ve got no refund—”
“Then go with someone else.”
“But I—”
“No.” Your voice was barely above your normal volume, enough to display irritation at how done you were with this conversation..“I tried to be nice, bro, but you’re not getting the hint. I don’t want to go,” You said slowly, patronizingly, “I don’t even like Manic Parade, they suck.”
At that Leo turned livid. He appeared to want to get in your face but you weren’t more than superficially worried. While he may have been bigger and badder than you, you had the biggest baddest man of steel at your back equipped with serve and preserve protocols.
“It’s real music,” Leo said, clenching his fists, “not that static trash you’re obsessed with.”
You smirked. He was digging himself a deeper grave. “Management will hear about this. You’re slandering the Fazbear name,” management would also hear about his pushy behavior.
Leo scoffed but still stormed out. “Whatever.”
Wow, Monty was in aw. He’s never seen someone rage quite as calculated as you. Watching you when you’re mad is so much more satisfying than punching a wall. You were more than a mechanic or technician, not only brains. You were strong, just like him. You were the full package. All his pent-up fury left. Just like that, faster than it came. All you had to do was speak and Monty was pudding in your hands. He was so dazed the moment that he almost missed your next statement.
“I wasn't going to go to that concert. Not when the best show’s here.”
Whoever said flattery gets you nowhere lied. He’d get the whole gang to perform right now if you asked him to.
Now that he could put a word to what he felt, he no longer felt confused as to why he wanted to bottle up your smile, immortalize it so he could hold it when the nights were lonely and the violence called to him. He continued to bore holes into the door Leo left out of. How could you ever like a loser like Leo? Couldn’t even bring himself to ask you out. Monty would be the better option for you. That thought made him giddy. Yes, you could do so much better. The gator would never make you this uncomfortable. Monty might not be the model gentleman but he respects your space, your choices.
From the peripheral of your eye, a gleam of something mythical caught your attention. Monty brought his base with him. “Wow,” you mumbled out automatically, awestruck by such a legendary item.
Monty was pulled out of his thoughts by the small sound you made. Had it been anyone else, they wouldn’t have heard you but Montgomery was an animatronic. He smirked. “Yeah,” He shrugged coolly, a smirk adorning his face, “I forgot to drop it off at my room on my way here,” in reality he was so single-minded to get to you, he had completely forgotten about the base in his hand. “You don’t mind do you?” Monty teased, knowing damn well you didn’t.
“No! I uh, I don’t mind. You can play—I mean if you—you can leave it here if you want or…” Why were you like this?
“Hey,” While Monty found your rambling cute, he still mercifully interrupted you, “Wanna hear me play something?” He said and sat on your desk.
“Yes please,” you squeaked out.
There was that plea again. God, what must it be like to hear you begging? His fans kicked into action but he covered the sound up by playing today's starting show. The one from the morning. He figured you hardly ever heard their morning shows, on the whole, you working at night gig.
Was Montgomery Gator really giving you a private performance? How was this your life? A week ago you didn’t even think you’d ever spend more than a few minutes in any of the animatronic’s presence.
That's how nearly the rest of your shift went.
Monty would keep you company, playing his bass and when there was a lull in your attention, he would give a dramatic solo, standing and bopping his head for effect. You would drop everything and stare in wonderment. He loved the faces you made. He took shots of all your awed expressions and stored them under the file Lone Mechanic . Hmm. Something was wrong. He changed the file name to, My Lone Mechanic . Much better.
Unfortunately, good things only last so long. His battery was running low and he would need to head to his changing station ASAP. He ignored the warning pop-ups in his hud. He wondered if management would let him move his charging station to the workroom. Or better yet, move you to his room.
He got up off your desk and pretended to crack his back. “Right, so I’m about to pass out. Same time tomorrow?”
“Ah, no,” You spoke sadly for the first time about your free weekend, “I don’t work on the weekends.”
WHAT!? “What?” A whole weekend without you. How was he gonna live through that? He was getting worked up but he didn’t show it. Monty stayed cool. He didn’t want to seem clingy in front of you by complaining. His fans whirled louder and he prayed to whatever entity that orchestrated his life that you couldn’t hear them.
“Yeah,” you moaned, then smiled, “But I’ll spend the entire break thinking of you ,” you sang the last word out and got the reaction you were looking for. Monty stiffened and the sound of fans speeding up reached your ears. Your expression shifted to one of glee. Had you embarrassed him? Was that the animatronic equivalent of a blush? You bit your lip. That shouldn't be as endearing as it is. He never made fun of your embarrassment so you’d repay the favor and ignore the sound.
“Damn right you should,” Monty mumbled out. On his way out, he threw back a wink. You couldn’t help but be brought back to Freddy. The alarm you set on your laptop caught your attention. Nice, Bonnie’s system was finally clean enough to understand. You scanned through it with Bonnie’s manual in hand. After a few minutes, you came across a GPS transmitter program. You went over the manual and yep, there it was. Bonnie had a GPS installed somewhere along the lining of his endoskeleton.
You shuffle over to the box that held the rest of Bonnie and rummage around, careful not to cut yourself on sharp parts. You find the GPS instantly on the backside of his endoskeleton. Surprisingly it’s still active when you connect it to your phone. This actually made sense. The Fazbear company must have had this installed in case the animatronics were ever stolen or lost.
What didn’t make sense was the Self-Destruct protocol you found in Bonnie’s coding. You squinted, feeling confused. What the actual fuck did that mean? Flipping through the manual, you found Self-Maintenance, Self-Scan, Self-De-stress but nothing mentioning Self-Destruct. You quickly opened the protocol with your laptop and realized it had been used once before. You must have read the program five times in horror before shutting your laptop. The Self-Destruct protocol was designed to do just that. Have the animatronics essentially commit suicide.
Why would a child entertainment system have something like this? Why would the Fazbear franchise insert this into their animatronic when it’s worth so much? You felt your hands clam up. Oh god. What if Bonnie’s not the only one with it installed? You had to tell the others.
Bonnie’s decommissioning was not an accident.