Chapter Text
It's late at night in Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria.
All of the lights are on, and everyone is gathered in the Prize Room, oohing and aahing at a brightly coloured movie, curled up together with a strangely purple human in the middle.
Or, well. Almost everyone.
Mike frowns down at the letter in his hand, and finds he doesn't care as the paper crumples beneath his fist. The words blurred in his mind, dark ink swimming before his eyes, and he tears them away.
He...doesn't really have a choice, in any of what he's about to do. There's only one right thing, after all, and hey - he got through to most of the things that have tried to kill him. What's one more on the list?
(besides, he knows golden freddy rules through fear and respect, and he knows the reputation is well-deserved. this won't be like last time; he'll make sure of that.)
With a last, scorching glare towards the letters' resting place, he tugs on his coat, jacket, and slings his bag over his shoulder. He does a final check; bills paid for the next few months, no parties Max can't handle, and he has enough food to last him longer than he needs it to - of course, with his luck, he'll need all of it and more.
Once he's happy (or as happy as he can get, at least), he slips through the quieter back door, locking it behind him, and takes a deep breath of the fresh midnight air. Where he's going, there's no way he'll be getting decent oxygen, let alone the crispness of a late-winter breeze.
Mike watches his beloved pizzeria get smaller and smaller in his rearview mirror, and heaves a sigh before turning his eyes to the road.
He has a long way to go, after all.
---
What was that one quote? One's an incident, two's a coincidence, and three's when you worry?
Yeah, Danny thought, staring down at his second email from Mike Schmidt in as many months, this is when you start panicking.
See, it's not like he hates his ex-boss and sort-of-friend, quite the opposite - he's been in awe of the man since he was sixteen, and the feelings only boosted after the events of Circus Baby's - but normally he gets a text, or maybe a letter if the animatronics want to join in. Plus, the last time he'd received an email from him, Danny had ended up mildly traumatised.
So, uh, he was more than a little hesitant to open it. But he'd been recognised as worthy of Mike's torch, so that had to mean something, even if only for a little while.
As always, his catastrophising yielded very little fruit; there was no urgent GET HERE NOW, nor was there a terrifying picture of some nightmarish robot. In fact, it looked...
His eyebrows creased. It looked nothing like what Mike would write, at all. Hell, it seemed more akin to something Bonnie would, if Bonnie was more prone to swearing and stuck in the 80s. And, uh, had opposable thumbs.
Now intrigued, and more than a little concerned, he leans closer to his computer to get a closer look.
To: Day Guard, reads the first line. Already, something's up; Mike used his name, or, if he was feeling really teasing, he'd call him kiddo. Day Guard felt too formal for what they'd been through, and Danny shoved down the irrational feeling of hurt - what if that was all he was to Mike, now?
It continued, along the lines of requiring his assistance and needing him to come back down at his earliest (he doesn't miss the lack of 'convenience'. whoever wrote this email isn't playing around.) or they'll sic S--. It cut off there, into an awful mess of mashed keys, and Danny tactfully turned his eyes away.
Well. There he had it.
With a weary groan, he rises, sending a mournful glance towards his bed, warm and inviting. But he's apparently needed once more, so he packs some clothes and shampoo - he once saw Mike put animatronic joint grease in his hair; he doesn't trust him to even have a working shower on-site - and picks up his keys.
As he walks to his mum's car, he tries not to think too hard about how familiar the whole thing felt.
---
When he finally pulls up to the back carpark (boss always parks at the back, mike had told him, and hero-worship had buried the advice deep) the lights are only on in one room. And, naturally, it's the one furthest away from either of the doors. Oh, joy of joys.
Luckily, Mike had given him an updated version of the keys he'd used a decade ago (they were the same shape, just had a freddy keyring attached), so it was easy to fiddle with the slightly-rusted back door keyhole until it swung open. And, perhaps even luckier, there's no petrifying puppet-thing that jumps him as soon as he's through.
Danny smiles to himself, though it turns pained as soon as he realises his thoughts; small mercies are the most depressing to take, sometimes.
It's oddly nostalgic to be back, even if he was here only a month or two ago. One hallway light still flickered, and the office doors were open to reveal the messiest workspace-slash-office-slash-bedroom he'd ever seen. He's willing to bet that, if he went into the kitchen, there'd still be a stain from when he dropped food on his first day.
"Hello?" He calls, ducking into the office to grab the tablet. It's password-locked, of course, but he knows it's going to be something embarrassing and cheesy. Sure enough, it is - Freddy's 'birthday', because Mike is a complete sap - and he's quick to flick to the cameras.
There's no-one in the first few rooms he checks, which is ... unusual, to say the least. But then he remembers the lights he saw earlier, and the movie nights Mike said he'd taken to having, and swallows his unease. He switches to the left hallway, and his heart stutters in his chest.
There's a blur of movement, purple and yellow and far too tall to be Mike no matter how much of a beanpole he is.
Before he can even think what to do - hell, before he can even drop the tablet - something hard and metallic and robotic grabs his arms, and he gasps. The tablet is wrenched from his hands before he can react, and his arms are unceremoniously yanked behind him. A rough hand grips his hair, and he hisses through his teeth.
"Who the fuck are you?"
It's... it's a young voice, and there's no metallic tinge to it. He'd think more on that, but he's more distracted by the pounding footfalls outside the office, and wriggling out of the hold without his attackers noticing.
They do, of course, and he earns his hair a harsh tug for his troubles.
"Who are you?" He spits back, before large purple hands are tugging him free from his confinement and into a warm, safe, slightly bone-crushing hug.
Ah, he takes that back; very bone-crushing. He feels a few vertebrae pop.
"...Hi, Bonnie," he mumbles despite himself, burying his dumbly-smiling face into a purple shoulder. The grip tightens, and he realises suddenly that he can't breathe.
Danny taps Bonnie's side a few times, gasping out a "Lungs, bunny," which Bonnie thankfully heeds. He's set back down on the ground, and he can finally see his longest friend's beaming face. A little embarrassingly, he leans back into his space, resting his side against Bonnie's chest.
"So is anyone going to explain who that is?"
The voice comes again; Danny glances towards the source of it, and is surprised to see a rough-looking teenager and a rougher-looking rabbit animatronic standing across from him. Even more surprising is Freddy frowning down at him, clearly interrupted mid-scold. It was the same expression he'd send to Mike after he did something stupid, which was more often than they'd all like to admit.
"That would be the Day Guard, matey," Foxy's heavily-accented, rather smug voice cut in, drifting in from where he and Chica stood outside the (rather cramped) office. "Ye'know, the lad ye called fer help?"
Disbelief crosses the teen's face, and Danny feels the same; this kid called him here? And then decided to attack him?
"I thought he'd be-- I dunno, taller? Maybe a little stronger?" Indignation arises at that - Danny can't be sure, but he's pretty certain that he's taller than the teenager. Plus, it's just insulting.
It earns him a swat over the head from Freddy, and unsettlingly purple eyes roll before settling on Danny, though not without an unhealthy amount of disdain. "Fiine, whatever. We do need his help," he mutters darkly to the worn-down rabbit beside him, who whirs a little - in sympathy, maybe? "Oh, shut up." Reprimand, then.
He's a little tempted to leave the kid to swallow his pride, but Danny's an adult, now, so he offers an olive branch. "What did you guys call me back for?" And then, because his ego still stings a little, he adds to Bonnie, "it's not a babysitting gig, right?"
(from the infuriated squeak-hiss to his left, the kid heard him. somehow. why did everyone at this goddamn place have super-hearing?)
"Mike's gone missing, lad," Freddy spoke, smoothly cutting over whatever the spluttering teenager was going to say. "Ya found 'im before, so ya can find 'im again, was our thinking."
Heaviness settles over the office, in which Chica hisses something at the bear - "Be a little gentler, Fred, he just got here!" - but it's muffled under the thrum in his ears. Mike disappeared every now and then, it was just one of those things, but going missing...
His stomach growls, and he jumps at the chance to think of something else. "I'm, uh..." he begins weakly, edging out of the room, "going to get breakfast."
---
Now, sat on a cloth-less table and ignoring Freddy's disapproving glances, stomach full of Chica's excellent cooking, Danny settles his elbows on his knees. "What happened?"
"It was a few weeks ago now," Chica starts once she realises no-one else is going to. Instead, they're looking anywhere but at him - except for the teenager, now known as Max, who's drilling a hole into the side of his head. "We were having movie night, and he must've just slipped out halfway through, because when we were putting Max to bed he was gone!"
"D'you know why, or anything? Did he say anything to you?" And this was directed at Freddy, who was suddenly very interested in the tiling of the floor. But the tenseness of his frame was telling, and from the sympathetic glance Bonnie shot him it was clear Freddy had beaten himself up over this every day.
"He didn't... say anythin', but he got these letters, an' always looked real unhappy ta get 'em. But we can't find 'em, so the lad probably burnt 'em." Freddy's voice was rough with static, and Danny felt a twinge of guilt at the sight of the leader looking so downtrodden. It made sense, sure, but something itched at the back of his mind.
"Yeah, we searched everywhere when we realised he was gone," Max said, "but there was nothing. Hell, we even went under his creepy little desk, parts and service - nothing. So he must've burnt 'em."
Danny frowned, drawing his crossed legs in closer. "Why would he burn the letters, though? Surely it'd catch you guys' attention if he started fires 'round here, and, besides, he knows you guys wouldn't give up 'til you knew what he was doing.
"In fact," he starts, snapping his fingers and rising, "I'll bet he just hid 'em. Gimme a moment."
Bemused, the group watches him disappear into the Parts and Service room for a minute, only to emerge with a crowbar in one hand. It was decorated with little cartoon Freddy faces. But as he approached the stage, crowbar raised, there was uproar.
He jumps, something akin to fear flickering through his eyes, and the animatronics shrink back a little. But then he rolls his eyes, a little scoff escaping him. "One broken board won't hurt, guys, chill out." And, with no further ado, he smashed the crowbar into the stage.
Max lurches forwards, a yell catching in his throat, when Danny straightens up with a victorious grin, a thick wad of paper in his hands.
"Ah? Ah? What'd I tell you," he says, grinning smugly as Max crashes into the stage beside him. "Hmm, let's see. All addressed to Mike, and the dates say they're recent. This is what we're looking for, I think."
But as he reads through the letters, his smile fades. Right from the start, they're full of thinly-veiled threats and sweetly-worded insults, making no secret of his boss' Suit status. Besides that, there are mentions of a Michael who Mike apparently took under his wing, and a whole lot of profanities.
Danny's heart drops into his stomach as he reaches the final letter, a short, succinct thing. Aside from the addresses, there's a single sentence written.
You know where to find us.
He turns it, more than a little freaked out, and sees pencil scribbles in Mike's near-illegible handwriting. There are curses, directed both at a guy named Henry and another called Afton, and half-finished ideas around the edges. But, in the middle, he's written an address, and circled it three times. His pencil broke the page.
Circus Baby's Pizza World. Oh, joy of joys.
"...Is that it, kiddo?" Bonnie says, voice breaking through the haze. He looks up, and his grimace answers their question. Four stony gazes meet his, and he realises, distantly, that he's in for a longer trip than he expected.
"Yeah. There's... a lot," he replies, but before he can continue the letters are snatched from his hand by none other than the grumbly teen beside him. Frantic purple eyes scan the pages, eyebrows furrowing further and further with every line, and Danny feels a pang of sympathy. "It's not pretty, at all."
Even now, as he gives absent responses to the animatronics, his mind is racing. He has to go to Circus Baby's, if not for Freddy's insistence that they find Mike then for Danny's own peace of mind. For all they know, Mike could've cleared the place out and be heading home now.
But that kind of confidence preceded the harshest of falls, and Danny had learnt first-hand not to make life-or-death assumptions around Freddy's.
"-ny? D-y. Danny!"
"Whhuh...?" Oh, shit. He'd been zoning out, and now found himself under the impressive scrutiny of four children's entertainers. Chica, who'd just spoken, sent him a concerned look, but there was an underlying tension he didn't want to think too hard about.
"Are you okay?" At his nod, her mechanical shoulders slump. "...You're going, aren't you? Where he went?"
He knows there's no point lying; she's come to the conclusion he had just moments prior, and there was never any question of it besides. But it still makes his chest ache to see her look so downtrodden, and he's hopping off the stage before he can think otherwise, gently knocking his head against her arm.
"I'm sorry, Chica, but I've gotta. I'll be back soon, though, alright?" A mournful purple eye lands on him, which feels a little pre-emptive - he's not even dead yet! "And I'll bring Mike home, maybe even in one piece. You can count on that."
His weak, rather pathetic attempt at humour makes her sniffle some, but she manages to muster up a smile. "Yeah. Yeah, okay, I'll have a feast ready for when you get back."
"Thanks, Chica." He allows himself another few moments resting against the mechanical warmth, but yawns. "Ah, I'd better get some rest in before I leave. Is there anywhere I can sleep?"
Bonnie rolls his eyes as Freddy mutters something about teens and laziness, even though he hasn't been a teen in about eight years, and tugs at his hand with a large purple paw. "Mike's room is a complete tip, but you can probably get to the bed just fine. C'mon, this way."
Danny yawns again, and allows himself to drift, comforted by the presence of his favourite bunny.
---
When he wakes up, it is not to the sweet melodies of birdsong, nor to the warmth of sunrays on his face. No, it is to an irate teenager standing on his bed, one slipper in hand, the other having been thrown at his face. When he notices Danny's awake, Max's scowl deepens further.
"Get up already," he hissed, throwing the other slipper at him for good measure. Danny hadn't realised Mike knew what slippers were. "We should've left hours ago, he could be in danger right now!"
"Hnnrg..." Danny mumbles, kicking his legs to dislodge Max. "Gedd'out, man..."
"Five minutes, Day Guard," Max said again, sending one last venomous glance towards him before the door slammed shut behind him. Somehow, the hulking rabbit behind him had seemed apologetic, if a seven-foot killer robot could look apologetic.
He groans, rubbing his hands down his face before rolling out of bed. Thank god, he'd been able to shower and brush his teeth before he slept - he was honestly in awe that Mike had a working shower - so he felt relatively refreshed. Or as refreshed as one could be on three hours of sleep.
While he didn't think Max would actually barge in the moment his five minutes was up, he did think he'd just steal his car instead, so he dressed in record time and swung his bag over one shoulder. When he opens the door, Max's impatient frown is right outside, and he jumps.
"Let's go," Max says shortly, and is turning on his heel before Danny has a chance to reply. His bunny friend follows him, and they disappear out of the back door. So, they're coming too. The more the merrier, right? he thinks, a little hysterically.
"...Okay?" He replies weakly, a minute too late, and can't even bring himself to jump when Bonnie appears at his shoulder. The awkward shuffle of his feet and flighty glances towards the Dining Hall tell Danny all he needs. "Guess you're coming too, huh, big guy?"
"If you have room." He really, really didn't, but he saw Mike's van out back. "'sides, bet you'll be glad to see such a beautiful mug every day, eh?"
Laughing a little, Danny led the way out, a little gratified to see Max sat angrily on the pavement beside the van. "Whatever you say, Bon."
"Hey!"