Chapter 1: Arc I: Second Chance
Chapter Text
Another day, another interview. At least that’s what you told yourself counting the neon tiles on the ceiling.
This had to be the third this week? Maybe the fourth. Who knew at this point, it was another in a long string that stretched over five months.
You didn’t want to say you was desperate, but the fact you was at a kids pizzaplex and responded to a vague job posting spoke volumes.
“Hello, so sorry for the wait. We had a bit of a snag for this evening’s performance.” An older woman breezed into the office, catching her breath and attempting to fix her hair in her rush. She smiled, “I was thrilled to hear someone FINALLY applied for this job. We’re a little desperate.”
Red flag and a cringe, ”I think it’s time for me to go, thank you for your time.”
“Wait! Please wait!” Frantic fingers snatched your wrist, “Look, I know that sounds bad. But, honestly it’s a cake job with ridiculous pay.”
With a resigned sigh, you sat back down. Ridiculous pay was exactly what you needed. A lot of money for classes that led to nothing but crushing debt and a lack of direction had been your reality the past several years.
“Okay, I’m listening “
A relieved smile and her grip released, “Great, I’m Elizabeth. I’m band manager, hiring manager, pizzaplex manager, the list goes on. But this isn’t about me, this about you!”
It was then you noticed the dark circles, coffee stains on a once pristine blouse, and blonde hair frazzled from a sleek updo as she took her seat across from you.
“As you can tell I’m a rather informal boss, so this will be to the point. The job itself is a handler position for one of our superstars. This is a seven day a week job, eight hour shifts , some travel on the weekends is required, but you’d travel with the band and eat with them. So it’s all comped. Full health benefits that includes one hundred percent coverage with our in house clinic and all surrounding hospitals. Paid time off is included, that you accrue one shift a week. I just need twenty four hour notice if you take off. As handler you are there to help navigate any struggles or hiccups our superstar may have in house or on the road. You ARE NOT a flunky, but will have to do some fetching. Any questions?”
Sounded unrealistic and too good to be true to have not already been snatched up.
“Which band member?”
Elizabeth cringed and your worst fears were confirmed.
The Pizzaplex was famous for two things. It’s family friendly environment and their band.
Freddy and the Gang proudly showcased their members in 80s spandex and glitter. All with their individual personalities and images.
One particular member was also know for their nasty temper.
“It’s for Montgomery, but I’ve talked him and he-“
“Didn’t his last handler end up in the hospital from a mental breakdown? It was all over the news.”
Elizabeth heaved a heavy sigh, reclining back into her chair. “Unfortunately, but-“
“No job is worth that-“
“I’ll pay off all your loans if you’ll sign a one year contract.”
You froze. All of them? That’d give you the freedom to pursue more options than just scraping by week by week, paycheck to paycheck, job to job even.
A small sad smile graced Elizabeth’s face as she took you in. Nerves and all. “This would be a chance to start fresh, no debt and a job for longer than a month. You have wonderful references from your past employers, but seven new jobs this year already? That doesn’t look the best.”
That would be a dream come true. A new beginning without the heavy baggage of your past mistakes. One year, just one, you’d done worse with one year than this surely.
“When do I start?”
With a large smile, Elizabeth rose to shake your hand. “How about now? Let’s get you introduced.”
The Pizzaplex was in full swing for the evening when you both took to the floor. Loud screams and piercing laughter echoed through the halls, you cringed and palms began to sweat.
So many little kids bouncing along with their parents in tow. Neon colors flashed and the loud music thumped, you felt your heart start to race.
With practiced ease, Elizabeth navigated the swarm, scuffed heels and wrinkled pencil skirt, keeping a firm grasp on your elbow so not to loose you. “I know it seems overwhelming, but I’m confident you’ll adapt.”
“A-Absolutely.” You swallowed, almost tripping over a sticky toddler. “Is it always like this?”
“Over summer break it is,” she chuckled and swerved to avoid colliding with a map bot. “But, things should calm down over the next few weeks.”
You nodded, no confidence in sight. At least the job description didn’t include child care. Kids weren’t your strong suit as you discovered during your short term employment at a daycare. Too many things could go wrong with tiny bodies and no fear.
You cleared your throat to derail your thoughts.
“The band should be finishing up their concert for this evening, so we’re just going to head to Rockstar Row.”
“Wonderful.”
The two of you just made it as the band began to file in. Freddy with his signature smile, Chica’s bubbly energy, Roxanne’s unimpressed hair flip, and Montgomery’s blank face. They looked like supermodels, chiseled muscles and glitter stained faces.
Suddenly, you felt self conscious in your simple blouse and skirt.
Elizabeth smiled widely, a warmth in her gaze, “There’s my favorite band. How’d they do?”
Three men filed in behind all button ups and slacks. The tallest of the bunch high-fived Freddy with a grin, “Awesome as always. Best one yet.”
“You say that about all of them.” Another replied, typing furiously on a tablet at Chica’s side. His black hair plated down his back. “It went rather smooth considering we’re down a man.”
“I’ve got the best woMAN for the job!” She proclaimed, stepping aside revealing you completely and all attention followed. “Montgomery, your new handler. I trust you’ll appreciate having someone after such a long gap.”
There was no missing the subtle threat that laced her words.
You swallowed and gave a small wave. “Hello.”
Chica squealed in excitement, catching your hands in her’s. Her pink eye makeup sparkled in the overhead light. “I’m so excited to FINALLY have another girl on the team! Me and Roxanne are drowning in the testosterone! It’s horrible! Do you like to excerise? Do yoga?! Oh! We could have a girls night-“
A firm tanned hand pulled her back from you. Freddy gave a warm chuckle, “Let’s let her breathe, Chica. First days can be intimidating. Welcome to the team, superstar!”
You couldn’t help the ease in your stiff posture. He was all sunshine with his warm brown eyes and shy grin. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, welcome to the circus.” Roxanne scoffed, “I give her a month. The moron chases off everyone.”
A snarl bubbled in Montgomery’s chest. “You’re a one ta talk.”
“Hey now, let’s calm down you two-“
“I’ll calmly introduce ya to-“
“Monty,” Elizabeth growled.
“What?! I didn’ do nothin’!”
The area exploded in argument between the three. Freddy and Chica pulled you back from the triangle of death, looking apologetic. The handlers joined you off to the side all varying in their degree of tiredness as the fight continued to escalate.
“YOU’RE KILLING ME! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT IS ME IN A GRAVE?!?”
“LIZZIE, don’ ya even try ta-“
“You overgrown dinosaur -“
“No ONE pult ya chain, Wolf.”
“I’ll show you pull, Gator.”
A loud clap jolted everyone out of their daze. All eyes fell to the strained face of Freddy. “How about she start fresh in the morning Lizzie? We’ve all had a tiring day.”
“Well, that should be fine-“
You all but ran from Rockstar Row, not stopping until you were in the confines of your car. You clutched your chest and sunk low into the seat.
Maybe you didn’t need a job that bad. Your last paycheck should stretch for rent and utilities. Maybe you could push off your payments.
Maybe just maybe there were other options.
A quick check of your accounts and job postings, confirmed you were doomed to returning tomorrow.
Maybe you could call one of your brothers-
No. Absolutely not. They had helped you enough.
You groaned turning on your old hunk of junk and screeched out of the parking lot. Radio on full blast and dread in your chest, you sighed, “Let’s do this, superstar.”
Chapter 2: The Ropes
Notes:
I finished this up early and couldn't wait to post it, so here it is! I'm working on fleshing things out and getting back into the swing of things. I'm going to attempt to write at minimum once a week, I'm in this for the long haul :)
First day on the job and you face your own insecurities. Things break and cussing ensues. Warning: Monty is an angry dick and you go off the deep end.
Hope you enjoy!
Chapter Text
It was a ripe six in the morning, the sun’s warm rays just spreading across the horizon when your lemon chugged into the Pizzaplex parking lot. Finding a spot this early was simple enough, parking amongst the speckling of employee vehicles congregated to the side. Despite arriving bright and early with no delay, you hesitated as your heart began to thump painfully in your chest. The palpitations increased the longer you stared at the front door.
Yesterday had been interesting to say the least. Although successful in your mission of securing future income, the job seemed more and more daunting the more you stewed on it. It wasn’t necessarily the explosive argument that made you question your life choices; it was the concrete settling into the pit of your stomach at the thought of failure.
You’d already failed, in your opinion, so many times before. Worthless varieties of college classes that had nothing to show for it except debt, a mile long list of attempted careers that you itched to escape after a few months, and a host of people that you owed money to.
Growing up it had been just you and the boys. Three older brothers that were established in their own lives when you came along and a suddenly single father who worked to the bone every day to secure your home. It had been a surprise to the family with the sudden appearance of a little girl, but the four of them took it in stride. You never went hungry and always knew you were loved.
But if they saw you now, hand shaking just trying to pry open the rusted car door, they’d give you absolute hell. That thought alone pushed you to get out of the car. You couldn’t fail now. Not now. They’d given you so much. The least you could do was finish a one-year contract.
With a calming breath, you began the trek to the entrance. Lights began to flicker on, signaling the preparation of opening in a few short hours. You paused to smooth out any imaginary wrinkles on your skirt. In hindsight, it would’ve been a good idea to hang around yesterday even just to find out where to go today. Did you even have to dress like this? You prayed not, longing for the comfort of jeans.
“Aye, newbie!”
A high-pitched scream tore from your throat, whirling to came face to face with same All-American boy from yesterday. In his defense, he tried to suppress his amused grin. “My bad. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Y-You didn’t,” You cleared your throat. “I-I’m fine. I am fine.”
He wasn’t convinced. “Mhm. So, boss lady said you could shadow me today with Freddy and if you felt comfortable, you can be turned loose with Montgomery tomorrow.” He gave your hand a firm shake, “I’m Jackson, by the way.”
The tension began to melt away. “Nice to meet you. Thank you.”
A slap on the back and you crossed the threshold, hot on Jackson’s heels. No swarms of children in sight, thankfully. Last thing you needed was another reason to be nervous. The walk had been pleasant, no strain or awkwardness due to your companion. He talked of college, his hometown, football career (of course he played football), and strategically chosen career choices that brought him to the Pizzaplex.
Jackson had gotten a bachelor’s degree in business management and wanted to get the know the process from the ground up. Before this, he worked in the gift shop and climbed up to working in the daycare alongside the infamous Sun and Moon duo, then rose to handler. From there he wanted to work alongside Elizabeth for a few years and eventually venture out on his own.
A perfect plan. It had been well thought out and paced to guarantee a successful career in business. Something you admired in all honesty, he had found his passion, his motivation to push him forward. A key factor that you had yet to figure out yourself.
What did you want your future to be? You were struggling enough as it was to see over the mountain of tasks.
“So, what’s your story?”
You jolted back to reality, having realized you had walked all the way to Rockstar Row without ever noticing. All the lights were out, and no one was home at the moment. Hopefully, it’d be enough time to get yourself together, “Not nearly as interesting. Jack of all trades and master of none,” you swiped your badge at the time clock and followed your guide into a room clearly marked employee’s only across the hall. “I guess I can add wrangler to the resume.”
“After a year.”
The concrete thickened, “After a year.”
“This is our break room.” The room was a decent size, a white round folding table in the middle with four chairs, four lockers lined the wall, and a charging station set in the corner for tablets. “You’ll meet with us every morning around this time for a team huddle. It’s our time to work out any kinks in the band’s schedules, bounce ideas off each other, and rant.”
The tablets were the brain of the operation as they held schedule times, requests, notes, and messaging center. Each tablet had a corresponding wrist band that connected all team members. Jackson patiently went through each section, what to do about alerts, how to adjust time stamps, responding to appointment requests, and more.
With direction, you logged onto your newly assigned tablet that would be controlling your everyday life and was greeted with a middle finger message from Montgomery.
“Ain’t he sweet.” You grunted, responding in kind.
“Did you just flip off Montgomery,” Jackson’s jaw dropped.
“Just responding to messages like you told me to.”
His arms began flapping like an overgrown chicken, “I-I didn’t mean that?!”
“What? He flipped me off first?”
“He’s in the band?”
“Still not seeing your point here, Boy Wonder.”
Jackson paused, digesting the new nickname, and shrugged in acceptance. “I get your point. But technically we’re not supposed to respond to violence with our own violence?”
You didn’t have words. After a two-minute delay, your brain finally caught up. “You’re kidding me, right? You mean to tell me this dickhead-“
“Team member.”
“Team member,” you hissed. “Can say what he wants to me, but I take up for myself and it’s a crisis?”
Boy Wonder nodded sagely as though it made perfect sense to him. “You can formally file a complaint-“
“And what happens? He gets talked to? I get told not to be so sensitive?” your teeth gnashed. Maybe it wasn’t worth it. Maybe this was a mistake. “Let me point out, you literally have the nicest partner out of the lot, other than maybe Chica, and you’re telling me not to respond with violence?”
Any response seemed to get stuck in his now gaping mouth.
“How has that worked with his past handlers?”
Now you could see his circuits beginning to fry. “Well-That- We….you…..Ugh,” his head dropped into his hands, groaning in exhaustion. “Just-Just try to stay polite and don’t do it on the tablets. They’re monitored. That’s all I’m going to say.”
“Well, well, well.” The door closed. “I didn’t think she’d show after yesterday.” It was Roxanne’s handler, sporting a practiced lopsided smile and extending his hand. “Welcome to the team, I’m Colby.”
He gave off a strong Romeo vibe, red hair carefully coiffed, subtle but masculine cologne, and smattering of freckles across his cheeks.
“Nice to meet you.” You shook his hand.
“I’ll ask your name once you make it past a week.” His grinned widened like the Cheshire’s. “I’m sure you know my concern.
You dropped his hand and pursed your lips when Jackson gently reeled you in by your shoulder. “Don’t pay attention to him. He’s just pissed off that he didn’t last longer than three days with him.”
The charming demeanor immediately melted, leaving only a scowl and reddened face. “The bastard gets off on being a dick. It was three days in hell. Listen, if he asks you to come get him at a certain time, do not. Let him be late, do NOT go get him.” Your hesitation only furthered his frustration, jerking out the closest chair. “Just trust me alright? It’ll save you a lot of embarrassment.”
At that moment, the last member of the team decided to slide in, juggling three coffees and an energy drink hanging out of his slacks pocket. In an impressive feat, he slid the remaining chair out with his foot and landed without a beverage lost. The weariness under his eyes darkened as he began slamming back coffees.
He must’ve have felt your stare on him, turning to shoot you a grin, “Chica’s energy isn’t normal. Gotta keep up somehow. I’m Lee,” a caffeine jittered hand grabbed yours. “You’re in my prayers. Let’s get this over with, Chica’s got a party slash mazercise teenage bash.” He rolled his eyes, taking a deep chug of the energy drink. “This job is gonna kill me.”
Colby sucked through his teeth, leg propped up on the rickety table, scrolling through his own tablet. “You chose it.”
“It was her or…um…yeah.”
The awkward silence that followed was suffocating.
If your job was to be Freddy and Boy Wonder’s assistant, it would’ve been a breeze to fulfill that one-year contract. They were like two pods of sunshine. All smiles, high fives, and good jobs to go around. The only hiccup of the day came at the first show.
The band took to the stage and the floor beneath them trembled from of anticipation screams of the crowd. Just when it felt like your ear drums were going to bleed, Jackson nudged your side and handed you a headset. “It helps some.” He cringed, motioning you to follow his lead putting in on and adjusting the mic. “Testing one, two.”
“All clear.” Lee’s voice filled your ears. “One down, many to go.”
“I can hear you, morons,” Colby grumbled from the other side of the stage. “She gone deaf yet?”
You snickered, checking the tablet, “Not just yet.”
“She show up? I didn’t think I’d see her after bolting yesterday.”
You froze. That sounded a lot like Roxanne. But she wouldn’t, they wouldn’t-Jackson jumped at the glare you pinned on him. Carefully, he covered his mic. “Probably should’ve mentioned they can hear us.”
The scowl on your lips was answer enough,
“Now Roxanne, that’s not necessary.” Freddy chimed in, looking back over his shoulder to give a reassuring nod. “She’s been a wonderful asset to mine and Jackson’s team.”
Roxanne’s snort echoed. “It’s not you she’s got to worry about. It’s that piss poor excuse of a bassist.”
If the floor had swallowed you up whole, you’d die a happy woman. Just end it now.
“Keep a talkin’, Roxanne.” A thick accent rolled sinfully up your spine.
An elbow to the ribs jarred your attention to the blonde next to you, covering his mic. “You alright? You look sick.” Only thing you could manage was a nod. “Alright, do the count off.”
No pressure. Clearing your throat and licking your lips, you focused on the countdown on the screen’s slick surface. Easy enough, focus on numbers. Not on his voice….
Another sharp elbow to the ribs, “Going live team in three, two, one!”
On cue the band appeared front and center on stage, then everything dissolved into lights, screams, and music. Kids and parents alike jumped and waved, glow in the dark rings danced across the dark sea of people, small voices echoed along to the band in jarring harmony. You’d never been to one of their shows before accepting the job here, but now you could see why everyone was so crazy for them. You were tapping along to the second to last song, featuring a heavy guitar solo and bass, when the crack of a string breaking screeched across.
“Who was it? Can we get a pause Freddy? Let them know we’ll be right back on.” Jackson shot off like a well-oiled machine, snatching up the bag you to had stuffed to the brim with supplies.
The answering curse with a thick Cajun drawl was answer enough. Of course, it’d be him and the paleness of Jackson’s face made your stomach upset.
“Will do, Jackson.” Freddy whispered, then switched to the stage mic. “Sorry for the inconvenience superstars! We’ll be back on after a short intermission. Please take this opportunity to stretch your legs!” A murmur of content echoed back and people began to trickle out.
This was ridiculous. Jackson looked like a mixture between anxious and hyperventilating, and you couldn’t get your hands to quit shaking. You’d done nothing wrong. Strings just break sometimes, you’d seen it firsthand at your old waitressing job at a nearby bar that doubled as a karaoke joint. Jackson took a deep gulp, frantically searching through the duffle, when you both froze at the sound of approaching footsteps.
Cue a very tall, very big Montgomery steam rolling toward you both. His short red mohawk mussed and scowl imprinted on his face. Stopping short, his red eyes locked onto yours through his star shaped glasses.
“You.” He hissed, jabbing a finger into your flushed face. “If ya’d done ya damn job, instead of flirtin’ with Cappin’ America over there-“
“My job? What are you-“
“Montgomery,” Jackson slid between the two of you, shielding you from his gaze. “We’re sorry about the inconvenience, but she’s been-“
“Oh don’ give me that shit! It’s her job to double check behind me!” Smoke practically shot from his ears. With practiced ease, he pushed Jackson to the side, and took up residence back in your face. Your back hit a wall and you gulped. “Whatya gotta say for yaself? Ya happy now? Gotta have yer boyfriend fight ya battles, huh?”
Muscular tan arms caged you in and his nose brushed yours. In a daydream, this would be the scene where the guy would kiss the girl. But in this case, he was snarling at said girl.
Shock soon dissolved into bitter fury. “And who the fuck do you think you are? You can talk to me without degrading-“
“Oh, I can degrade ya alright, useless bitch.” He sniffed, blowing of strand of red hair out of his face. “Where were you, huh? Ya’d think if ya were hired to be my handler, ya’d be with me, not Fazbear.”
He didn’t even want a handler. He’d made it a personal mission to make their lives a living hell, until they went insane or quit.
You swung your elbow into his sternum to create distance between you two, hissing “If you’d been listening instead of having your head up your ass, you’d know I was shadowing today and didn’t know I had to double check you. And if you hadn’t been an impatient prick I could’ve told you, even apologized for the inconvenience. I’ll be with you tomorrow, your highness. Now what damn string do you need replaced?!”
Silence followed, his narrow gaze never wavering from yours. Tension so thick it practically solidified in your lungs.
Jackson cleared his throat and you took a breath. “Um, so now that’s been settled-“
“Oh, cut the crap,” Montgomery grumbled. Wordlessly, he reached into the duffle bag, carefully picked a set of suitable strings, and dropped them into your hands. “These are the ones I like, newbie, not that other shit. Think ya can manage that?”
Without another word, he grabbed another set and went back to wherever he left his bandmates, leaving you utterly confused in his wake.
Did you cuss him out?
Judging by the overwhelming stares from your fellow handlers, it wasn’t a fever dream. Your throat was suddenly too dry and tongue was cotton. You’d already been warned once about how you speak to the band. Would they rat you out? They didn’t even know you. Montgomery surely would, a new hire having the nerve. Suddenly, you felt weak, leaning against the wall, thankful for its sturdy presence. There went the dream pay and being rid of your student loans.
God, why was you so stupid?
“I think I’m in love,” Colby smirked wickedly, clutching his chest. “Please tell me one of you two recorded that?”
Lee took a sip of an energy drink. “Since when do we double check their instruments?”
“Um, we don’t,” Jackson said, scratching his neck, confusion evident. “We never have.”
You slid down the wall with a rueful chuckle, letting your head rest on the wall.
Geez, he really was a dick just to be one.
And the show went on.
Chapter 3: Pushing Back
Summary:
You try to do your job and are faced with a cranky rock star. Granted, you are good at aggravating him.
Notes:
Third updated in one week is a record for me lol. Hopefully you all love this story as much as I love writing it. As quick as I get finished with the chapters, I'll post them.
Enjoy!
Chapter Text
The remainder of the shift went off without a hitch, and other than the laughs and screams of children running from room to room, it was silent. Not long after the “Montgomery Incident” it had become clear that the rest of the band had heard every single word, although they tried to hide their secretive looks, you could feel them burning into the back of your head.
Today, on the other hand, was very uncomfortable with the anticipation of what would become of the fight. You were sweating bullets just thinking about it. Would Montgomery rat you out? The other bandmates? Your colleagues? You’d put up a front of not needing this job, but you and your bank account knew better.
But when the next day came, there was no being pulled into the office, no yells that you were in trouble, or threats of termination. The only indication that anything had even happened was the small fist bump Colby gave you during the team huddle.
Which reminded you….
“Do I have to dress like this every day?” You scrolled through today’s workload, which seemed unusually light compared to Freddy’s.
Lee tilted his head toward you, sipping on his second coffee this morning. “If you mean the skirt, then no, just has to be business wear. Fridays and weekends we wear what we want pretty much.”
“How’d you guess-“
Colby snorted, not even looking up at you. “I’ve yet to meet a woman, who wanted to work in those things.”
A light nod in response, then you focused on time stamps and requests. No overlapping so far, which was good, no requests, and no messages this morning. Seemed simple enough. The only thing making you hesitate is you would have to find him today.
A groan escaped you, rubbing your forehead.
“He’s usually in Rockstar Row at this time,” Colby supplemented. “Be sure to knock.”
Another groan and you pushed your chair out loudly, checked your watch, and trudged to the door.
“If you have to put that bastard in his place again, we want it videoed.” Jackson smirked. “You’d be a legend.”
You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes or the uneasy shuffling of your feet. “I’m surprised I didn’t get pulled into the office.”
Simultaneously, all three men stopped what they were doing, shared a silent look amongst them, and gave a simple nod. Jackson’s smile widened. “Listen, you are the newbie, but we ain’t going to go tattle to the boss. We need to stick together and if we did tell, it’d be shooting ourselves in the foot. When he doesn’t have someone, we take turns managing him.”
Lee cracked open a fresh energy drink, “I doubt Montgomery would tell either.”
“Why not?”
“He’d have to fess up on how it all started.” Colby smirked. “And trust me, he’s on thin ice. After his last handler ended up in the hospital, it was his final strike. One more and he’s out.”
With a small nod of your head, you left the safety of the breakroom and ventured across the hall to Rockstar Row.
Time to face the music.
Montgomery was deep in thought, strumming out a melody he’d been working on in his spare time as yesterday cycled through his brain non-stop.
He didn’t want a handler, that he made clear at the beginning of this, but the Pizzaplex being what it was didn’t listen nor care. They shined the idea up and brought up all the positives, to have someone else deal with everything while he focused on being a rockstar.
That’d been the dream after all, for all of them.
The gig had been unexpected and wasn’t exactly their idea of to be a kid’s 80s rock band five days a week. But the offer had been just that good they’d been crazy to turn it down. All of them were all on their last dollar, barely scraping by, when they were approached by the none other than Freddy’s grandfather. It’d been promises of millions, stable roofs over their heads, freedom to create as much music as they wished, and have the weekends free to venture out to other venues.
Seemed to be too good to be true because it was.
His first handler had been nice enough, always addressed him as sir and went out of their way to be nice. That changed when he started exploring other career options, then it was her keeping tabs on him and sabotaging any opportunity of leaving he had. One phone call from Fazbear was all it took to be blackballed from the big leagues. No one wanted to mess with the old man’s money and band, even with Freddy intervening, it’d been too late. The rumors had spread and spread far beyond their reach.
From then on every handler that followed was no different, they’d make notes of everything he was doing at all times just further their agenda, get promotions, and bonuses. The others had gotten too comfortable in their never-ending cycle, and who could blame them. They had it all, money, fame, some freedom, stability, but that wasn’t enough. Montgomery wanted more.
A light knock on the door snapped out him out of brooding, speak of the devil and she’ll appear in heels and a skirt.
“Um, Montgomery? Can I come in? I was just going to go over the schedule for today…..”
A groan bubbled in his throat. Schedules this, schedules that. It was a never-ending cycle of birthday parties, golf, concerts, and meet and greets. He loved the kids, honestly and whole-heartedly, they made the whole situation bearable.
“Montgomery?”
This time he growled, setting his bass against the closest wall, before letting the door slide open to reveal his new nightmare. He tipped up his shades to get a good look at you. “Waya want?”
You blinked, fingers clutching a little tighter to the tablet. “I was just going to go over your schedule with you. Can I come in?”
“Don’t see the point, do ya? It’s on that hunka junk, I do it. Now buzz off, newbie.” He closed the door in your face, trudging back to the couch.
The door slid open and he whirled on the spot to see you walking into the room, swiping wrinkles out of your skirt. A snarl left him. “I thought I told ya-“
“Listen, I just want to do my job. Let me read the damn schedule and I’ll leave. You won’t see me until showtime.”
Tempting. Tempting. Oh, so tempting. But, not enough to keep him from being difficult.
He huffed, picking up his bass. “Fuck off.”
A deep sigh left you, swiping on the tablet until the schedule appeared. “At nine you got a two to three hour slot open for Monty Golf, at noon you got the first-“
“I know the fuckin’ schedule, you bitch. Get outta here. It’s the same every damn day.”
You pinched your nose, took a breath, and cleared your throat. He could see the red starting to creep up your neck. “First concert at noon, then at two-“
“Are ya deaf?! I told ya to get out!”
You ground your teeth, “At two you have-“
Montgomery grabbed you by the upper arms, lifted you out of his room, and shut the door. Just as he began to resume his playing, he heard, “AT TWO YOU HAVE A BIRTHDAY PARTY FOR A FIVE-YEAR-OLD BOY.” You had to be kidding. He let the door slide open. “AT THREE-“
“DO you ever shut up?!” He snapped, crossing his arms across his chest. “I said I know the damn schedule-“
“Listen, I just want to do my job. This is literally a check off for my day,” Your whole face was red and eyes narrowed. “If you’ll just listen to the schedule-“
He shut the door in your face again, trudging back to his favorite spot on his large spacious couch. A pause, hearing nothing but silence, Monty picked up his bass once again. Finally, you took the hint.
“AT THREE YOU GO BACK TO GOLF FOR ONE-ON-ONE TIME WITH THE KIDDDSSSSS!”
At this point, he covered his head with a pillow, wishing lightening would strike you down.
“AT FIVE YOU HAVE YOUR LAST SHOW-“
The table crashed into the nearest wall as he roared in frustration. “WOMAN!”
“AT FIVE YOU HAVE YOUR LAST SHOW! THEN A MEET AND GREET! HAVE A GOOD DAY! I’LL SEE YOU AT THE SHOW!!!”
Just as he threw a couch cushion out the door, you dove to the side and slid down the hall. He just caught the sight of you running around the corner when he let a low growl rumble in his throat.
“I think I can tolerate this one.” Roxanne snickered as she leaned against the very corner you dashed around. “Although her hair looks like shit and cuticles are a disgusting.”
“Roxy-“
She held up a single manicured finger. “It’s not all about you-“
“Coming from ya, that’s rich.”
“Listen, my therapist-“
“You seeing a therapist? Why ain’t ya thrown into the looney bin yet?”
“Jackass.”
“Why was she yelling?” Chica popped into view. “What’d you do Monty?”
“Why do ya think-“
“Who was yelling Montgomery? Are you okay?” Came Freddie joining the party. “You usually don’t start fighting until at least the first show.”
Monty drug his hands down his face. “All ya fuck off, bunch of bastards. All ya!” He turned tail back into his room, throwing something heavy against the door for good measure.
After a few days, you’d run. He was sure of it.
And with that soothing thought, he got back to happily strumming his bass.
It’d been two weeks. Two weeks of you standing outside his room, yelling the schedule like a freakin’ banshee. At this point, you’d just knock to announce the beginning of your assault, and then proceed to make his eardrums bleed.
Two weeks.
Two whole weeks.
Even on the weekends he wasn’t safe. He’d get a voice message on his phone at eight sharp, then would see you on the bus going to whatever venue they had scheduled for the night. After escorting him in, you’d blend into the crowd of patrons and join the other hagglers at whatever table they were at.
It was like a bad nightmare on repeat.
Just seeing you made his blood boil, smiling as you typed out notes on that stupid tablet you kept on your hip. Turning in progress notes on him, he was sure. Letting the dictator of Pizzaplex know his every step, every angry outburst, heck you probably tattled on him daily, made a meeting out of it.
The sound of your laugh grated his nerves. He’d hear your heels click against the tile and have the sudden urge to get drunk. He loathed every interaction, every look, and every word you said.
Why hadn’t you left yet? Stubbornness? A lack of self-preservation? He didn’t know and didn’t want to know. Knowing anything made it personal and making it personal would make you not just another face, another handler.
Not just someone else to make leave.
Then the first month came and went. Everyone was now used to the ritual yelling and prepared with earbuds. It was an expectation that seven-thirty, you’d show up in the same damn outfit you wore almost every day and go over the same damn schedule.
Every. Single. Day.
He made your life hell, between knocking you sideways, outlandish requests, hitting golf balls at you, purposefully causing scheduling conflicts, and breaking strings on random so you’d have to hustle to replace them.
But when the next month went by just the same, Monty was beginning to question your sanity.
August had just begun its reign when you’d showed up on his doorstep like every other day. Except this time, he opened his door, catching you off guard.
Same damn outfit and same damn schedule.
“U-Um, good morning, Montgomery.” You croaked, clearing your throat a few times.
He couldn’t help the satisfied smile. “Losin’ ya voice there?”
Your cheeks bloomed into a dark red. “I can still talk.”
“Unfortunately for me.” He rumbled, leaning against the doorway. “Ya going to do ya usual?”
“Not if you’d let me go over-“
Monty heaved a dramatic sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. The idea of you screaming just one more day made him want to slam his head in the door.
Wordlessly, he extended his hand toward you, “Give it ‘ere.”
“Give you wha-“
“Give me the damn tablet and I’ll read the shitty schedule, as long as ya don’t scream anymore.” He shook his hand for emphasis.
Hesitantly, you looked him over, looking for any signs of deception. There appeared to be none and your throat was killing you honestly.
Reluctantly, you handed it over and he nodded in response. It took Monty just a few minutes to scan over the day, checking to make sure nothing changed. It hadn’t, of course. With another nod, he thought about handing it back to you, but on second thought…
He dropped the tablet to the ground and made sure to crunch his heel into the glass, not stopping until the screen stopped glitching and went black. Thoroughly satisfied, he slammed the door to his room, enjoying the peace and quiet of this amazing morning.
The next morning, he had fully prepared himself to have you screaming back on his doorstep. But it never came.
Finally.
Yesterday must’ve been your final straw. Now on to the next bozo they tried to-
A piece of paper slid underneath his door, cutting off his victory dance.
It was his schedule printed out.
He crushed the paper in his fist, sliding his door open ready to give you a piece of his mind, except you weren’t there to yell at. The only evidence you had been there was the paper in his fist. Monty could appreciate the change in strategy, but it royally pissed him off.
A frustrated roar and he chucked the paper as hard as he could into the depths of his room.
Maybe it was time he changed tactics as well.
All three handlers jumped in surprise, when he practically knocked the breakroom off its hinges.
“Montgomery, what are you-“Jackson began and got cut off by the rockstar raising a single finger.
“Where. Is. She.”
“Where is who-“
“I know that between the three of ya, there’s at leas’ one brain cell.” He slammed his hands on the table, rattling it. “Now, where is the bitch?”
Silently, they exchanged looks amongst each other. Each varying in their degree of confusion and terror. It was Colby who chimed in. “Montgomery, why would we know where she is?”
“Don’ give me that shit,” He growled, “Ya four are tied at the damn hip. Where is she?!”
Another look to each other and Colby shrugged, “We don’t keep tabs on each other. We just meet here every morning to compare notes. All she told us is she was going to drop off-“
“The same damn schedule in the same damn outfit!” It came out as a roar, dragging his hands down his face. “I know the schedule, all ‘bout the schedule! No one’s bugged me ‘bout that damn thing before now, so why-“
“We were supposed to.” Jackson cut in with a timid smile. “We just weren’t willing to be yelled at by you every day. She’s just doin-“
“ ‘er job, I know! I heard all ‘bout it the las’ few months!”
Lee bravely stepped forward. “Listen, we don’t know where she is. She’s somewhere in the building, that’s all we know, and we’ll see her at the first show. If it’s so pressing, you know where Elizabeth’s office is.”
Montgomery shook with fury, steam rising off his skin. Without another word, he stormed out of the break room and stomped down the hall. He’d find you alright and put an end to this nonsense.
You’d been here too long as it was.
Chapter 4: Paranoia
Summary:
You finally crack, Monty faces his paranoia, and a deal is struck.
Notes:
Hello everyone!
In this chapter Montgomery's paranoia is explored a bit more and so is the reader's anxiety/fear of failure. No one's perfect and I'd like to explore the character's faults just a bit more, flesh them out. So hope you enjoy the journey!
Also, I'll be on vacation this week into next week, so any further updates will be next week. I'll be trying to get future chapters wrote up and ready for you all :)
Chapter Text
Maybe it was the extra-large coffee you’d gotten to fight exhaustion or the anxiety from the morning that had your heart pounding and hands shaking.
Printing the schedule, you thought, would be a compromise between the two of you. You’d stay out of his way, and you could say he reviewed it. It’d be a win-win.
The sound of him yelling echoed down the hall from the break room made you freeze. Apparently, he hadn’t agreed with you. Usually, you wouldn’t care to go to head-to-head with the resident hot head, but today you felt at the end of your rope. It’d been three months of fighting every single day, no breaks, seven days a week, every single week. You wanted to pull your hair out.
You could just start half-assing your job, but a small part of you refused to be anything less than thorough. It was the dream job after all.
A crash sounded and you made the decision to put off this fight as long as humanly possible. You needed a break from him, and you’d happily give him one from you.
After thoroughly reviewing your options, you chose to hide in plain sight and where better than his own attraction. Maybe if you’re lucky he’d only glance over the room, before going elsewhere.
You would talk to him…Just not now, anytime but now.
The sound of kids laughing and alligators hissing, alerted you to your arrival to the famous golf course. Only handful of kid were romping and playing this early in the morning, but there was just enough and they were just small enough to put you right back on edge.
Back when you worked at a daycare there had been horrible accident that still woke you out of a dead sleep some nights and left you shaking until it was time for work. When you had started, you’d hoped working so many hours would take the edge off, making you so tired you’d collapse into a dreamless sleep. Unfortunately, it done the exact opposite. Your dreams were so vivid now you’d wake up screaming.
If only you were just an ounce as brave as children were.
With a deep breath, you stepped through the entrance and was immediately swarmed.
“Hi lady!” A beautiful little girl giggled. “You’re Monty’s friend, aren’t you? Why isn’t he here? He always comes.”
A quick glance at your watch confirmed it was time for him to be here playing with the kids. You could text him that he was late….
On second thought, probably not a good idea given the circumstances. You bit your lip, weighing your options; the other bandmates would be busy at this time and all the handlers with them. The tremor in your hands traveled to your knees.
You could do…should since it was your fault.
You could also just leave, but then that’d devastate the kids when they realized no one was coming. With a deep, deep breath you closed your eyes and counted to ten. That’s what dad always told you to do. Breathe and count. Breathe and count.
It was a one-time incident. One time. A freak accident. There was nothing for them to get hurt on here. Finally, you released your breath. That’s right, there’s nothing they could possibly hurt themselves on in here. Plus, the parents were here too.
That eased your trembling and let you give the little girl a shaky smile. “Well..um…Monty’s not feeling the best right now….so…..so..he asked me to come play instead?”
You waited for the disappointment, the crying, the world ending, but none of it came. The girl’s eyes lit up like she’d been given a new toy. “You’ll play with us?! You can be on my team!”
There was no hesitation as she grabbed your hand and dragged you across the green to the rest of the children. Deep breaths, deep breaths. Count to ten. Count to ten. You could do this, you could.
Once surrounded by curious little faces looking up at you with bright eyes, a more genuine smile spread on your lips. “You guys think you could teach me how to play?”
Somehow during the training session you’d become the professional boo-boo fixer. That was partially your fault for being so jumpy anytime they fell. Just a little scratch and you’d be ransacking the first aid kit, but the kids didn’t seem to mind with their cool character band aids. At one point, you were pretty sure you heard them negotiating a trade and couldn’t help the smile.
It became obvious quick that you were better being the boo-boo fixer, then playing golf. The first round you’d been destroyed mercilessly and retired from the game early. You didn’t get off the hook though, oh no, these children were determined to have you play somehow. That’d be how you’d end up running barefoot on the green, chasing the little troublemakers between holes and snatching them up when they were unsuspecting.
The longer you played, the more comfortable you’d become. Maybe, just maybe, this was all the therapy you needed. It was definitely cheaper than the actual therapist you’d visited many years ago, and not as cringeworthy.
Amid all your fun, you’d forgotten all your tasks for the day and had completely forgot that a certain rock star had been looking for you.
Montgomery was on his third lap of the Pizzaplex and you were nowhere to be found. He’d checked in the game rooms, hallways, the breakroom again, asked Elizabeth, his bandmates, but no one in the whole damn building had a clue where you were. Really, he knew he shouldn’t be complaining that he couldn’t find you. Out of sight and out of mind. But just the knowledge you were here, and he couldn’t find you, made his temper rise.
It wasn’t until he went to check Monty Golf for the last time that he finally found you. Just the sight of you had him so surprised he froze a minute, had you been here this entire time?
You were barefoot, playing with the kids, or what he guessed was your attempt to play. You swung and missed the golf ball by a mile, earning chuckles and taunts from the children that flocked around you. A small shrug, then you took off to chase the nearest child, only for a small boy to grab your black skirt. He watched as you kneeled before the child, inspecting his scraped knee.
A pat on his head, then you went and fetched the first aid box from the closest wall. Within a minute, the boy was back to playing with a Montgomery band-aid on his knee, not a care in the world.
It was then that you saw him and he saw the happiness practically melt off you.
You collected yourself, rising to your feet and picking at your skirt. “Good morning, Montgomery.” You croaked; arms crossed across your chest. “Do you need something?”
“IS…uhm….Is this where ya been all mornin’?” He lowered his voice and in just a few steps closed the distance between you, anger bubbling just under the surface.
“I swung by because you weren’t here and there was some disappointed kids waiting.” You muttered. “I dropped off my reports before I gave you the schedule.”
Montgomery snarled, “Reports, huh?”
“Um, yes-“
“I knew it. Ya sneaky lil bitch.” He hissed in your face, “Keepin’ tabs on me?”
You were such a great actress, looking so completely confused you almost fooled him. “What are you going on about?”
His hand shot out, grabbing your forearm. “I talkin’ ‘bout ya spyin’ on me, ya worthless-“
“What in the world-“
“Bitch, an’ reportin’ to the ole man.” He finished with a scowl. “I know what ya’-“
“H-Hold up. What are you talking about? Are you on drugs? If you are-“
This time he dragged you outside Monty Golf and pinned you with his best glare. “I’m not on drugs! My problem is you! You reporting every-“
“I don’t have any idea what you are talking about.” You hissed. “If you’re not on drugs, you’ve been hit in the head too many times. My reports are literally just a simple thumbs up or down, and hell I ain’t gonna lie, I just give you a thumbs up on everything because you’re good at your job.”
The tension began to ease in his shoulders, just a bit. You could just be a really good liar and he’d be played a fool, again. Just as he opened his mouth, you rolled your eyes, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him all the way back to the handlers’ breakroom.
An impatient huff left you as you knocked the door open with your hip and drug him in. Next thing he knew, you were pushing him into a rickety chair in front of an ancient laptop. Before he was even able to say anything, you had leaned over him and logged into your Fazbear account, pulling up all the reports you had written. There were hundreds, all green with check marks, and all marked turned in.
“There,” you heaved a heavy sigh. “Look through them yourself. I don’t get paid enough to be up your ass. I’m going to go get another coffee before I crack.” And out the door you went, being sure to slam it for good measure.
It was all there your notes, appointments, and texts between other employees. Montgomery devoured it all. Every word, period, and comma he analyzed to see if there was some secret code maybe…..
Secret code? Had he really gotten that batshit?
You didn’t really seem like the secret agent type, but neither had the others. But they also didn’t give him full unrestricted access to their account while they went to get coffee. It didn’t make any sense.
The little nagging voice in the back of his head grew louder, the one that insisted that you weren’t hiding anything. That maybe you truly were just here for the paycheck and wanted to do well. He cringed, rubbing the back of his neck. That’d mean he’d really been an asshole for no reason.
But God if you hadn’t been a bitch right back.
A bubble popped up on the screen from Jackson.
Hey, where’s Montgomery? The show is about to start.
Oh hell, was it that late already? His heart sunk, he could practically see the words form on the screen of you saying he’d cracked and was a psychopath hallucinating about spies and secret agents out to get him. He’d be fired with nowhere to go…
Your reply lit up the screen.
He’s not feeling well, I’m handling it. Give out some tee shirts for me? Or Montgomery stickers?
What was she going on about shirts and stickers? His nose smooshed against the screen to make sure he was really reading this right.
Can do. See if you can get him to the clinic if it gets too bad.
I’ll take care of it.
“You done yet?”
The most embarrassing scream left him, whirling to face you. Once, the shock passed, he slowly settled into a scowl, “Maybe.”
It was now he truly saw the dark circles under your eyes. You took a good chug of the caffeine and fixed him with a blank look, “Monty-“
“It’s Montgomery.”
You raised your free hand in defeat, slouching against the closest wall, “Montgomery... I don’t know about you, but I’m hella tired. I’d leave if I didn’t need the money and the contract, I need it. So, you can yell, cuss, throw things at me, and make my life hell, but I’m not leaving.”
“That’s what ya say now. Wait till I’m done with ya.” The chair clattered against the wall as he towered over you. “Ya have no-“
“Aren’t you tired?”
He paused a moment in his rant, considering what you said. The last few months really had been draining for him, but that didn’t mean he was going to roll over either. He still wanted you gone. “I’m fresh as a fuckin’ daisy.”
A loud growl ripped through you, “You think I’m some fuckin’ stalker?! Follow me! Watch me fill out the damn reports if you want! Hell, come to bathroom with me, I don’t give a damn anymore!”
For probably the first time in his life, Montgomery Gator was rendered speechless. Flies were about to start flying into his gaping mouth when he shook his head. “What are you-“
“Follow me if you think I got something to hide, see for yourself. I’ll be earning my paycheck otherwise. Gotta keep your day running smooth after all.” You didn’t even bother hiding the eye roll.
“How is shoutin’ like a damn banshee making it smooth?!”
“You act like a dick and I’ll act like a bitch.”
Unfortunately, you weren’t wrong, this would be an opportunity to see if you were really up to something...
But what if you weren’t? His brain couldn’t even comprehend what he would do if he found you innocent. That’d mean you’d been at each other’s throats for no reason.
“Alrigh’”
You froze, “Alright?”
He gave a slight nod, tipping his sunglasses up on his head. “I’ll follow ya for a month or two, but not to the damn bathroom.” The way you slumped into the wall with obvious relief made him look away and change the subject. “So, we gotta party today or anythin’?”
“You’d know that if you looked at the schedule.”
“To hell with ya and that damn schedule!”
You smiled wickedly, “I’ll drag you with me, superstar.”
Chapter 5: Baby Steps
Summary:
Special Mission stalking handler activated, fighting and bickering all included. Montgomery finds himself with some hard questions to answer.
Notes:
Hello everyone!
I'm sorry for the delay of this chapter. I rewrote and reworked it, added and subtracted, and finally decided to post it. I hope you all enjoy it and it was worth the wait. Please excuse any typos, my tired brain can't read this chapter another time lol. I promise I won't take three weeks next time to post lol. May the writing gods bless me.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The next morning you just wanted to bury your head deeper into your favorite pillow as the alarm clock blared. On one hand you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief, knowing that today would be the first step into hopefully creating a new relationship with the rockstar. A fresh start. Yesterday had went by in a flurry of him peeking over your shoulder and giving you the side eye. Rerunning the day in your mind, you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to him to make him so convinced you were out to get him. A small, nagging voice kept whispering something had happened to him, but what?
God, who were you to be psychoanalyzing?
With that thought, you began getting ready. Shower, coffee (lots and lots of coffee), and grabbing your usual work apparel. It was one outfit that you wore on repeat, but damn if it hadn’t been so freaking expensive that it had been the only business wear you were able to buy. So, it was washed and dried religiously. The generous paychecks helped, but you’d been sending as much as you could to pay your dad and brothers back, leaving only enough for rent, utilities, and food.
So, when you saw said outfit dirty and not washed, you couldn’t help the small bubble of panic creeping up your throat.
You’d been too tired yesterday that’d you stripped and collapsed into bed.
“Great, just great.” You snatched your phone off the nightstand, checking the time and the day, “Yes, it’s Friday.”
Grabbing one of the few Fazbear tee shirts you owned and a pair of trusty jeans, you went hopping out the door to make it on time.
Monty tapped his fingers against the white table, growing more irritable the longer he sat there. You’d said you’d meet him that morning, but of course you never told him when exactly you’d be there, and he never cared to pay attention before. Of course.
And now he had the three stooges looking at him like he grew a tail.
“Um,” Jackson began slowly, looking to his coworkers for reassurance, “Montgomery, this is the handlers’ breakroom…”
“I ain’t fuckin stupid, I can read.” He snarled. The only other option was to stand and wait in the damn parking lot, and that’d be even more stares and idiots to deal with. “I’m a waitin’, gotta problem with that Cappin’ ‘Merica?”
All three handlers exchanged a surprised glance, then directed their full attention to the fuming rockstar.
“Since we-“
“Did I say somethin’ that made ya think I wanted to talk to ya?”
“No,” Colby chimed in, pushing up his sleeves. “But, if you’re not here for us, then that leaves one amigo. Waya want with her?”
“That’s none yer damn business Ronald McDonald.”
Colby’s eyes only narrowed as he leaned forward in his seat. “It’s not, but she’s our teammate. Now what ya want with her, you Chuck-E-Cheese wannabe.”
Monty lunged across the table and of course, you chose that exact moment to walk through the door.
“What the hell?! What are you doing?”
With a snarl, Montgomery clenched his hand just short of reaching his target. Slowly he recoiled, red eyes never leaving his scowling opponent. “Took ya long enough, ya get lost? Any other time ya’d be on my front doorstep yellin’ like a rooster.”
“Never said you had to wait on me,” You already felt a headache come on as you slid into your seat at the laptop.
This was already going so well.
“Lemme get my stuff and we’ll get going ya grouch.” In smooth repetitiveness, you logged and started scrolling. “Looks like you got a double birthday party today, brother and sister at Monty Golf after the first show.”
“Is there a reason he’s going with you?” Colby whipped around to face you. “First, he just comes in here barking about waiting, then you say “we” like you guys are going together? What in the hell is going on?!”
“Blink twice if you’re being held hostage.”
“I ain’ doin’ nothin’ to her, ya damn moron!”
You bounced your leg, waiting for the printer to finish churning out blank reports. “One, because we are. It’s easier than yelling through the door and two, I’m not being held hostage.”
“But…he’s Montgomery, mister big, tall, and get the fuck away from me?!” Jackson now croaked, clutching the edge of the table, fear evident on his face. “Does he got dirt on you? There’s an escape route-“
“Ya bunch of jackassesses!!” The jackass himself knocked his seat to the floor. “Ya got a problem wit’ me?! Say it to my face!”
A heavy sigh and you began gathering your things. Really, you were flattered that your coworkers cared so much about your wellbeing, but as they jumped up to face their fuming opponent you could feel that headache becoming a sharp stab to the temple.
You now understood why Chica complained about testosterone, it was practically choking you in their attempt to size one another up. More coffee was definitely on the check list for the day.
With an exhausted sigh, you grabbed him by the back of the shirt and started dragging him away, “Come on, dumbass. We’ll be late and you were already a no show for the kids yesterday.”
Another deep growl. “Imma a lil busy here-“
A hard yank jerked him out the door just behind you and the slam of the door cut him off, “Men.”
“What?! They-“
“I don’t give a shit.” You groaned, rubbing your temple, “I’ll just meet you at your room from now on, okay? I don’t have the patience for the four of you to have a pissing contest every morning.”
Montgomery snorted, crossing his arms across his chest as you began flipping through the blank pages in clear irritation that he chose to ignore, but did notice the lack of something.
“Where’s ya tablet?”
You pinned him with a glare so hot and angry that he thought he could feel the gates of hell open up beneath his feet. “Someone broke mine,” You hissed through your teeth, “that I had to pay for, and my new one hasn’t come yet because I have to pay for it too.”
The look of surprise on his face was so genuine that it momentarily caught you off guard. “They made ya pay for that?”
“Yes! Unlike someone I can’t go throwing and busting things all the time.” His cringe went unnoticed in the anger you directed at the helpless papers in your grip. “Come on, we can’t stand here all day.”
“Aye-“ His hand just missed your shoulder as you turned. “Alrigh’, alrigh’ that may have been-“
“Shitty?” you paused, eyeing the rockstar as he scratched his neck uncomfortably. Much to your shock he did look sorry. How was he supposed to know that staff don’t get the same privilege as them. With that thought, you effectively deflated, “It was, but it’s not like you knew. Just no more costing me money, alright? Truce?”
Montgomery grumbled. “No shady shit, got it?”
“I promise no reporting back to the mother ship.”
He snarled and shook your hand, squeezing it hard enough to make you wince. “Don’ push it bitch.” With another glare, he threw your hand down and began stomping away. “Ya comin’ or not?!”
Maybe this wasn’t your best idea.
No sooner had the two of you crossed the threshold, a swarm of overjoyed children surrounded the rockstar, practically clinging to him in their excitement. The joy was contagious as Montgomery’s suspicion and anger melted into wide smiles while being manhandled onto the course by the flock of chicklings.
You took the opportunity to slip away to make your way to the catwalk above, where you usually set up camp. It hadn’t been your first idea, but when you were trying to avoid the kids and the wrath of a certain band member, the farther away the better. You had just begun to slip up the employee badge protected staircase when a tug on the back of your jeans pulled you to a halt.
“Where ya think yer goin’?”
With a swat, you smacked his hand away from the belt loop he’d hooked. “I’m going to do what I always do. Stay out of the way.”
“Oh no ya ain’, deal was I watch ya work. I can’ watch ya all the way up there.”
You were debating smacking the cocky grin off his face when none other than the little girl from yesterday skipped up. “You’re gonna play aren’t you?! Monty said you could be on my team again!!”
“Oh, did he.”
The bastard himself only grinned, “Ya ain’t gonna say no to this dollface, are ya?”
How could you say no? Those big innocent eyes stared into your very soul and made you crumble. Yesterday hadn’t been that bad. It’d even been fun, before you’d been interrupted.
“Yeah, I can play for a little bit.”
“YAY!” She took off like a shot, racing to tell the growing group of children you were going to play again.
The answering cheers of happiness echoed back to you and you couldn’t stop the cringe. A cringe that did not go unnoticed by the very tall man in front of you.
He quirked his eyebrow upward and begun to open his mouth, but before he got the chance you were dragging him by the sleeve to the small crowd waiting. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
It was the classic standoff girls vs. boys.
Of course, the boys had Montgomery and the girls had you, so it wasn’t too hard to guess who was winning. But the girls didn’t seem to mind as they called their taunts in retaliation to the boys’ bragging.
“Ya’re pitiful,” Monty snickered, “Didn’ ya ever play mini golf as a kid?”
You blew a strand of hair of your face. “No, I did whatever my brothers did, and this wasn’t on the list.” You swung and missed, sticking your tongue out to the giggling children. “
Monty paused and blurted out. “Ya have brothers?”
“Three, all older. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”
Julia, the little girl that was excited to drag you into the game, nodded sagely at your side. “I have brothers too. They’re mean.”
You laughed, swinging and missing the ball again. “They are, but they love you honey, I’m sure of it. Just wait till someone tries to take you out.”
“Ew, cooties!” She scrunched her face up.
“Awh, even me?” Monty pouted, until the little girl started flapping her arms in objection.
“You don’t count!!”
Another laugh and you missed again, forfeiting your turn to the little girl to let her try to save the team. They were crushed, but it was still fun.
The burning of the back of your neck had you looking over your shoulder to face a now pondering rockstar.
“You alright? Don’t think too hard, might blow a gasket.”
He glared in response. “That explains a lot. Ya havin’ brothers and all. Ya got a mouth on ya, that’s for sure.”
“Good thing too, it’s come in handy lately.”
A roll of his eyes and he stepped forward to take his own turn, rolling the new information around in his mind. Part of him wanted to ask more, but another part didn’t want to know. You had volunteered it, he hadn’t asked, he hadn’t wanted to know. That’s right. He was still out to get you out of here.
“What about you?”
Montgomery paused to glance over at you, “What abou’ me?”
“Got any siblings?”
Without even looking, he swung and got a hole in one, reveling in your look of disbelief.
Would this be considered “getting to know each other” or simply passing the time, after all there was only so long you could hold a conversation with kids this age.
He cleared his throat. Of course, he had his bandmates, who he got to see between shows and at night, but outside them there wasn’t much of anyone to talk to. Someone neutral to everything, that could just listen. The longer he stared at you, the longer he wondered if maybe, just maybe you could be his friend……
Until you caught him staring and he gave himself whiplash to look the other direction. Thankfully, you didn’t ask again and he definitely didn’t tell.
The rest of the day went by in a blur of lights, kids, and music. At the end of it all, the two of you sat in the breakroom as you one by one put in your reports and just like the day before, Montgomery didn’t see any sign of deception. A part of him was beginning to feel ridiculous, constantly looking over your shoulder and reading bland reports after each event, but the other part needed the reassurance.
It was a few more weeks of this repetitive game, that led up to that night. You’d long since left for the day with the rest of the employees, leaving him and the rest of the bandmates alone with the persistent map bots that had yet to power off.
“You think we should take this weekend off?”
The loud screech of Montgomery breaking a string cut through the once comfortable silence. The four of them were in Freddy’s room stretched out across various surfaces, much like they did every day to recount stories to one another.
“Why the hell would we?” Came his gruff response, turning his attention to Chica who had turned herself into a human pretzel stretching for the night. “That’s the only time we go out as us…not the Fazbear circus.”
Roxanne paused in painting her fresh manicure. “It is, but I think we could all use a break. Seven days a week is even taking its toll on the awesome me and I’m never tired.”
“What ya’ll goin’ weak on me-“
“The handlers are tired too, Monty.” Freddy answered, pausing to look at each of his friends. “Jackson nodded off during the show.”
Of course, this was about Boy Wonder. Who else?
“Fuck ‘im! We don’ need no babysitters anyway! They only hold us back-“
“Oh come off it, like you haven’t seen yours nodding up while standing.” Roxy chuckled, “Now that was hilarious! Dead asleep and about pissed her pants when I bumped into her backstage.”
“It’d just be the one weekend,” Their fearless leader reassured, patting his tense friend on the shoulder. “Then we’ll go back in one hundred percent better than ever!”
Slowly, realization dawned on the bassist. One by one he looked between his bandmates, his only friends, on this God given Earth, and came to one simple conclusion. It made him sick to his stomach. “Ya’ll already talked ‘bout it, didn’t ya.”
At that Chica flopped out of her yoga pose and began waving her hands in panic. She could already see the steam coming off him. “No-No, nothing like that! We-“
“Ya’ll what? Snuck off without me?! Ya bunch of bastards!”
“No! Monty listen-“
“I’ve listened enough!” He roared, slapping Freddy’s hand off his shoulder. “Ya’ll been sneakin’ around behind my back!”
Roxanne didn’t bother concealing her snort. “No one’s been “sneaking”, you paranoid lunatic. You’ve just been too busy being up your handler’s ass to notice anything else.”
“I ain’ up her ass,” He hissed, “I’m jus makin’-“
“Monty,” Chica interjected in her calming voice of reason. “We know you’re not like that for no reason. We’ve all seen what’s happened and know you’re telling the truth. It’s just that-“
“That what?! I didn’ see ya’ll run off yer spies! Meantime, I’ve been labeled the asshole-“
“Because you are,” Finally, Roxanne rose, setting her hands on her hips as she towered over him. “You need a break and for damn’s sake Monty, get an apartment! We don’t have to live here anymore!”
When they first made it big, the four of them literally had no where to turn. So, as part of the deal, Fazbear built actual bedrooms behind Rockstar Row for them to live in. The accommodations of the Pizzeria were at their disposal, while they saved up and continued to dream big. One by one, they each found somewhere else to live, and the once late nights playing mini-golf, racing, and fazerblast soon faded into him strumming on his bass until the early hours of the morning.
Alone.
It’s not that he didn’t have the money and heck, Freddy even offered to go in half with him somewhere, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet.
Ironic, isn’t it?
He craved to escape Fazbear Entertainment, but couldn’t so much as find an apartment off the property to live in. Somewhere deep inside, he held onto that nostalgia of when they were all together.
But like hell if he’d tell them that.
“Why don’ ya mind yer own fuckin’ business Rox and get that finger out my face before ya lose it.” After a moment of a staring contest, she relented and rocked back on her heels. Chica rubbed her forehead and Freddy had taken to cautiously sneaking glances at them.
Roxanne gave one final eye roll, crossing her arms. “If you’d quit worrying so much about what you can’t control, you’d notice more is all. Least that’s what my therapist-“
Montgomery, even in all his fury and disbelief, couldn’t stop himself. “That damn quack should’ve lost his license fer not throwin’ ya in the nuthouse.”
Chica and Freddy’s laughs echoed through the room and were so contagious that the two hot heads couldn’t help but crack two grins in return. With a shake of his head, Monty slumped into the couch, fingers soundlessly picking at the remaining strings. He guessed one weekend off wouldn’t hurt; it wasn’t like anyone was shaking them down for record deals every night anyway.
Sadly, the question became what would he do with a weekend to himself?
Notes:
It's harder than I thought to keep this slow build up, while not making it a dragging story, but I'm determined. See ya'll next time! :)
Chapter 6: Bottoms Up
Summary:
With the weekend off, you and Montgomery bond over alcohol.
Notes:
Hello everyone!
We finally get into making some progress between the two of you and start getting into the meat of the story. Drinking is prevalent and mentioned in this chapter. Song lyrics are also featured, no not the whole song, just snippets. I do not own the song, lyrics, or anything associated. I just happened to like it and thought it'd fit. If you do not like it the song, I completely support your opinion, everyone has different taste in music :) If you'd like to listen to the full song, it's up on youtube.
As always, I hope you all love this chapter as much as I do and enjoy it!
PS please ignore typos, I've read this so much my eyes hurt.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oU1qcb5steI
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It being a Saturday, you were following the tradition of scrambling to find an outfit to wear to the concert that wouldn’t have you completely sticking out, when your phone dinged.
No concerts this weekend per the band’s request.
Simple and straight to the point as you would expect from Elizabeth.
The band wanted the weekend off? That was a surprise since you knew for a fact the four of them lived and breathed music. On the other hand, they were performing literally every single day. You sure needed a break and all you did was follow around an overgrown man child, much less performing several times a day, plus kid interactions, parties, and concerts on weekends.
What would you do with a whole two days? A whole two days without Fazbear Entertainment having you in a chokehold made you sigh in relief, dropping on top the mountain of clothes without a care in the world. The sky was the limit.
You could go the movies, maybe a bar without the band in tow, sing some bad karaoke, and end the night with getting drunk and eating something greasy that was not pizza. All there was to do was wrangle up the gang to bounce off details with and you’d be off. Halfway to clicking the bubble icon to send a text message, the crushing reality hit you hard.
What gang? You hadn’t been out with them in months, probably less than that due to money. Did you even talk to them anymore? A quick check of your texting history only brought up your dad and brothers, and really, it’d been them texting you to make sure you were living.
Well, you could explain yourself. Surely, they’d understand that you’d been swimming in a mountain of debt and trying to climb out, you’d known them since your college days. They were adults trying to make it too. They probably didn’t even have the same number; you were lucky you still had yours.
There was always social media, which would probably be more reliable to touch base with them anyway. One by one you searched your friends list, high on the prospect of getting out and having actual fun. That excitement got choked out by the discovery that none of them were in your list anymore and that they’d all disconnected with you.
It did sting. Stung more than you cared to admit.
There was always the boys from work, but that hopeful sparkle dimmed out when you realized you never gotten their numbers or connected with them on social media. They were work friends, not going out friends…
But you could have fun on your own! You’d just get drunk at home after everything else. You didn’t need other people to enjoy yourself, it’d be a treat after saving and scrounging every penny. With that thought in mind, you went to get ready to have the time of your life.
You done your makeup to the nines thanks to several tutorials, slid yourself into some fitted jeans and a leather vest, fluffed out your hair, and was ready to have some well-deserved fun. You had made it all the way to the movie theater, only to realize your wallet was not in your purse.
Cue the journey back to your apartment, digging and tossing clothing left and right, with no success. You’d been at it for hours. It was now just after three am, when you collapsed onto your couch at a complete loss. So much for a night on the fuckin’ town and enjoying your first weekend off in months.
“Damnit!” You screamed and threw the closest pillow at the front door. “Where the hell is it?!”
You couldn’t do anything without any money and like a moron, you’d refused to put your card into your phone for contactless payment. But where would it be?! You’d scoured the whole place, even tore your hunk of junk car apart in the search and only found gum wrappers and a Fazbear map.
You froze.
Fazbear.
The Pizzaplex. You’d left the damn thing in your fuckin’ locker after getting tired of dragging it back and forth. A loud groan then you snatched your keys off the floor and sped off into the night so pissed that the devil himself wouldn’t even dare to look your way.
This was the worst night ever.
Montgomery was strumming out the third or fourth song of the night, attempting to work out some kinks in the melody before they went live with them next weekend, when he paused at what sounded like someone screaming. A glance confirmed the tv was on some eighty’s horror movie, what else would it be, and stopped it with a click of the remote.
At night, the place took on a whole new aura of complete and utter silence. The only noise was inside his little bubble he’d built for himself and created on the bass.
The rest of the band had opted to go out for the night, which he declined doing. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go out and have fun, it just felt wrong. Felt wrong that he’d spend a single day away from working towards the main goal: to get the hell out of Fazbear’s clutches.
So, a night in, munching on pizza with cheesy movies, and surrounded by scattered papers with his notes scribbled on them sounded like the perfect night. Sure, he was alone every night. Every single night…..His friends gone to their apartments…..now out somewhere….
Damnit. It’d be too late to catch up to them anyway. Plus, space is what he wanted after their little meeting the other night. They weren’t wrong with anything they said, but despite their reassurances, Montgomery couldn’t shake the uneasiness in his stomach when he’d realized that they talked without him around.
He made it halfway through a chorus, alternating into higher notes with Chica’s pitch in mind, when another yell echoed into the room.
The hell?
Maybe a cleaning or map bot was malfunctioning.
“Stupid fuckin’ Fazbear. Can’t have a single damn night away from this fuckin’ PLAAACCEE!”
Okay, maybe not a bot. What psychopath would be here this late?
A door across the hall slammed, making the window shudder, and summoned him out of his room to look at the closed handlers’ breakroom entrance. The door was still moving from someone crashing it off the wall.
“What the fu-“
You chose then to emerge from the room, charging like a bat out of hell, only to screech and jump back into the door. You clutched your chest, “What the fuck, Montgomery!? What the hell are you doing here this late?!”
“I could ask ya the same thing.” He grumbled, propping himself against the adjacent wall. Slowly he took in the makeup and clothing, it was a far cry from your typical work wear especially with that cleavage. You looked like a rockstar and it made his face warm. “Goin’ out?”
You quirked an eyebrow and followed his gaze. When the realization hit, red bloomed up your neck into your cheeks as you threw your arms over the top of your chest. A scowl marred your lips when he chuckled. “I was. Forgot my damn wallet….Would you stop looking at me like that?! I’m not a fuckin’ piece of meat.”
“Just takin’ in the whole effect, ya bitch.” There was no bite to his words as he tilted his head. “Ya don’ look half bad.”
You couldn’t help but scoff. “Course not, see ya Gator.”
“Whatcha gonna do? Go home? Las’ call was a while ago.” At that, you froze in your trek past him and his throat effectively dried. For Fazbear’s sake, it’s not like he was asking you to marry him. You both simply had nothing to do, so why not…. “Ya like beer?”
And he felt like a moron when you looked at him like he had three heads.
“Do…do I like beer?” You were sure you’d heard him wrong. “Are you drunk?”
Montgomery scoffed. His face was blazing. God, he was an idiot. Was he this desperate? This was you, the bitch that got off on yelling at him and keeping up with fuckin’ schedules, “I ain’ drunk. I was…I…ya know what forget it.”
It was then as he turned to storm off, you noticed the pajama pants he had on and the lights off in the other band members' rooms. He was alone.
Just like you…
Deep, deep down, that hit a nerve in you. Maybe it was your own feelings you were projecting onto the confident rockstar, or maybe you were just that pathetic you would take anyone for company. With the compromise you two worked out, he was more tolerable than usual and what were you going to do at home?
“Got any food to go with that beer?” He stopped short of his door, and you rubbed the back of your neck. “I’m starving.”
He chuckled, “As long as ya don’ mind pizza.”
Metallic cans littered the carpet around the trash can from your failed attempts to toss them in and a pizza box laid open at your feet, eyes fixated on the tv screen. The two of you had gotten along so far, most likely due to the alcohol, and had settled into a classic horror movie with each of you occupying opposite ends of the couch.
A glance your way confirmed that you hadn’t decided to bolt yet but had become comfortable against the arm rest. An oversized tee shirt now covered your vest at your insistence on running to the gift shop before doing anything, which Montgomery suspected may also be the reason you stopped drinking after tossing back a few.
Not a word had been spoken after the mutual agreement of what movie to watch. You remained invested and he took to strumming lightly on his strings, unable to get the transition into a higher notes as smooth as he wanted. He’d been so wrapped up, he hadn’t noticed the credits roll or that your attention was now solely on him.
“That new?”
He flipped himself with a string and cursed. “Would ya quit doin’ that?! Make noise or somethin’.”
You ignored the anger, riding on the comfortable warmth spread throughout you. Good ole’ alcohol. “Is that all you do? Or do you have any other hobbies? Gator golf does not count.”
“Yer gettin’ awful nosy.” He grumbled. “Mind yer damn business.”
“I’m jus’ trying to understand you.”
At that he paused mid strum to glance your way, curiosity getting the better of him. “Why’s that? So ya can-“
“Psht,” You chuckled, “If I was that good at being a spy, you think I’d still be working here? With someone who can’t stand me? I work with you every damn day and don’t know a fuckin’ thing about you.”
“I don’ know nothin’ ‘bout ya-“
Your yawn cut him off. “You don’t ask. Figured if ya wanted to know you’d ask.”
“Well ya don’-“
“I’m asking, Montgomery.” He fully looked at you then. With a huff, you reached down to chuck off your heels. “I want to get to know you even if you are dick, sometimes.”
Pink flushed his cheeks in response. Like hell he’d drink with you again, you were a damn mushy, serious drunk. He could probably convince you to go to sleep without much of a fight, judging by the heaviness in your eyes, but the words felt heavy in his mouth.
It’d been a month following you and four months of you being there altogether, and honestly if he put your bitchiness aside, you weren’t half bad. You were always there…..Granted, it was your job to be there.
“I don’ have any siblin’s.” It took you a minute to catch up, but when you did he had your undivided attention. “Not really got any hobbies-“
“You like Fazerblast?” You were wide awake now, standing to stretch your tired limbs.
“Uh…”
“I bet I can beat you.”
A slow smirk spread on his face. “Oh, can ya?”
“Yep. I win and you have to tell me a new fact about yourself every single day I work here.”
“An’ if I win?”
The look he was giving you had you doubting that newfound confidence. Oh, this was a bad idea. “Whatcha want?”
His smirk deepened. “No more damn schedules.”
“That it? No prob-“
“An’ I wan’ a round of Monty golf.”
“If I win both?”
Montgomery snorted and rose to his feet to tower over you. “It’d be a cold day in hell.”
You couldn’t help but smile, “Better get your coat then Gator boy, time to show you how it’s done.”
True to your word, you were absolutely destroying him at Fazerblast, and he became very thankful he had demanded a round of golf to be a deciding factor. It was round four out of five and you already had two wins, compared to his measly one. The first round he chalked up to being beginner’s luck, but when you had rolled across the floor, shot him, then dashed around the corner he knew he’d got hustled.
Oh, how he was going to enjoy beating you on his turf. Just had to make it there first.
No sooner had the thought formed, you knocked it out of him by diving into him and shooting his vest.
“Round four, winner player one!” echoed in the neon lit room.
You were just about to slide around another corner when he kicked his foot out, making you land flat on your back next to him. You didn’t even try to get up or fight when he sat up just enough to shoot your vest.
“Round five, winner player two!”
“Ya damn bitch, ya gotta lotta nerve hustlin’ me like this.”
You giggled. “I did not.”
“Don’ ya fuckin’ start! That’s a damn lie!” Your chuckles turned into outright laughter. If he hadn’t been so outraged, Montgomery might have been amused. “Now cough it up! Where’d ya learn to play like that?!”
“My brothers, dumbass. You think they played dolls with me?” With a small cringe, you got to your feet, the buzz of the alcohol no longer cushioning your soreness. Maybe you’d been a little extra. “And you’re not gonna beat me in golf?”
“It’s Monty golf, ya bitch, get it right.” He ignored the roll of your eyes and pushed himself up, dusting the nonexistent dirt off his shirt. In a blink of an eye, he had closed the distance between the two of you and had your back against a wall. “An’ I’m not gonna beat ya, oh no, I’m gonna fuckin’ destroy you.”
When the rockstar knocked his hole in one for the millionth time, you merely sighed and ripped up the score sheet. The bastard even had the nerve to walk up to you with that stupid cocky grin on his face.
“An’ that’s a tie.”
“Call it a night or tie breaker?” You stretched up onto your toes, popping several stiff joints.
“Night? It’s seven in the mornin’”
You did a double take and jerked your phone out of your back pocket. Well damn, he was right. You’d been here three to four hours and that thought had your whole body feeling heavy. “So, a tie?”
Montgomery had no signs of being tired, twirling the gold club expertly. “Nah, too easy. How ‘bout karaoke? One song. Winner takes all.”
You really wanted to say no and climb onto the nearest surface to sleep, but the smile he gave you scrambled any thoughts you had of retreating. He looked like he was enjoying himself while being in the same room as you.
“Jus’ one, then bed.”
“Tha’ an invitation?” He purred, admiring the blatant flush on your face.
It took a conscious effort to shrug off his honeyed words and you swore to yourself in that moment to never drink in his presence again. It was too dangerous. “Shut the fuck up and c’mon. I need sleep.
Montgomery hunched over the play list on the tablet on the massive stage. It’d been a few minutes of scrolling and tuning you out, while he searched for the perfect song. Obviously one that he knew to gain the upper hand. Another minute rolled by and you snatched the tablet out of his hands. “Aye!”
Without hesitation, you hit the shuffle button. “I need sleep. You’re taking too damn long.”
He opened mouth to pop off at you when the selection landed on the big screen at the back of the room. Concerned by the sudden silence, you followed his gaze and saw the reason of his hesitation.
He swallowed, “We-we can change it.”
“Ain’t no point. A duet would get us both done faster, cuts out a song. It’s just singing, I’m fine if you are.”
“’course I am.” He rolled his shoulders. He was a professional after all. “Try to keep up.”
You rolled your eyes, picking up your own microphone from the stand. It was simple enough. His lines were in highlighted in red and yours yellow, the main goal of the game wasn’t to sing perfectly, but just as close to the pitch as you could to gain the most points. You didn’t even have to look at each other. It was not a big deal.
“It’s Karaoke TIIIMMMMEEE.” The machine announced and neon lights began flashing around the room as the lyrics rolled onto the screen.
With you both facing forward, thankfully, you saw the first few lines were all his.
“Honey, why you callin’ me so late? It’s kind hard to talk right now. Honey, why you crying? Is everything okay? I gotta whisper ‘cause I can’t be too loud.”
Fuck, you did stupid stuff when you drank. Playing karaoke against a musician? Why just why? His accent only thickened and carried a deep rumble in his chest. If it’d been anyone else, you’d already be a puddle at their feet…..
A kick to the shin drew your attention to the multicolored chorus rolling across. Your now dry throat felt too thick and tongue heavy in your mouth. It was just a game, just a game, why’d you care how you looked…
That’s right….it was just for fun. It’s not like you were performing live or anything. It was just the two of you and you doubted Montgomery cared how you sound, only if he’d win.
So with a deep breath, you dove headfirst into the chorus with him, thankful for how his voice smoothed over the cracks in yours as you hit the notes with him. You made it over the first hurdle and your run slid onto the screen.
You could do this. “I can’t believe I’m calling you tonight. And baby I’ve been dreaming of you. Does she know you’re talking to me? Will it start a fight? Cuz’ we both have so much to lose…”
The death grip on your microphone loosened when you saw his foot tapping in time with you. As the second chorus started up, you found yourself smiling and a rough hand snatched yours’ to spin you. A laugh bubbled free of your throat as the song wound down and his hand caught you by the waist.
“That was actually-“ You saw nothing but his red eyes boring into yours. All emotion wiped free from his face. You fought for the words to come out, “What’s-“
“WINNER PLAYER TWO!!! WAY TO GO ROCKSTAR!”
You weren’t a bit surprised as the lights flashed on Montgomery’s side of the stage and merely grinned, the last drags of adrenaline buzzing through you. “Good job, superstar. No schedules for you.”
It took another beat before he came back down to Earth and snatched his hand off you like it burned. “Not too bad…..for a rookie…I mean.”
A final check of your phone clock confirmed it was now nine in the morning. That headache when you woke up was going to hurt like a bitch. “I better get going, it’s nine now.”
He blinked once, then twice, then registered what you said. “Oh- oh yeah, guess ya better.”
The walk back to his room was thick with silence, you from exhaustion finally slamming into you, and who knew what was going through that head of his. He wouldn’t even look at you now. Although that wasn’t new.
Once you slid in, you began gathering your heels and found your purse and keys flung off somewhere. You’d just turned to leave when you collided a very tall and muscular body towering over you. In one smooth motion, he snatched the keys out of your hand and shoved them in his pocket.
“Ya should prolly sleep here.”
“What are-“
“Take the bed and I’ll take the couch.
You were about to protest, when he physically pushed you into the bedroom and gave you a firm glare. “I mean it. Yer a lightweight. I’ll give ya the keys when ya wake up and make damn sense.”
“Montgomery-“
“Shut ya mouth, get in bed, and get some sleep, cher.”
Without another word, the door separating the two rooms slid shut, leaving you very confused. A beat and another, and then another when your scrambled brain caught up.
“The hell did you call me, you bastard?!”
No response came.
Notes:
If you have any suggestions or ideas that’d you like to see please leave them below!
Chapter 7: Days to Follow
Summary:
Feelings are evolving and a new player joins the game.
Notes:
As always, hope you enjoy the chapter!
Chapter Text
“Remind me why we’re here on our day off?” Roxanne groaned, shoving the tangled mass of her white hair out of her face. “C’mon Chica, I’m still hung over. It’s too bright and I can hear colors.”
Chica merely rolled her eyes as the two of them scanned their employee badges at the main entrance and began the trek to Rockstar Row, “Because Roxy, he’s our friend and he is usually the first one out the door when we go out. Something’s wrong.”
“But-“ A sharp look and all complaints were cut off with a huff. “He’s a whiny bas-“
“Friend. He is our friend.”
Chica had thought he knew, just knew that they would be there for him no matter, but she was beginning to have her doubts. After their conversation about having the weekend off Monty hadn’t been acting the same towards them. Chica did know the bassist was a bit paranoid, but who wouldn’t be after everything he went through? He was a true honest friend, one that’d be there for you through thick and thin.
They had all seen the results of his first handler’s deception, someone who had the honor of being called a friend and betrayed his trust. Ever since then, it was an endless cycle: Fazbear himself would reach out, offer the big bucks to watch him, then they’d either quit or be run off by Montgomery himself.
Montgomery’s biggest weakness and strength was how bold he was. He caused waves. He was upfront and honest about looking for other opportunities and it cost him.
They made it to Rockstar Row with no incidents, Chica being the steadying presence to keep Roxanne from toppling over. They’d just started making their way down the line when she caught sight Montgomery’s lights still on like a beacon.
He’d been all alone.
That thought was enough to make her nauseous. They’d all went through dark times together and had even lost a dear friend to that darkness.
Chica snapped back to attention when Roxanne shoved herself free, staggering to the very door they sought. His curtains were drawn over his window, but there was light shining through the cracks.
“AYE! Open up!” She banged against the door, sunglasses askew.
Nothing but silence answered her and Roxanne’s hair stood on end. “Listen you overgrown lizard man! I’m hungover as shit! You open up or I’m barfing all over your pretty door!!”
Still nothing.
Mid swing Chica snatched her drunk friend’s wrist, before she banged yet again on the abused door. With a shake of her head, the guitarist pushed the door sensor and the door slid open without any hesitation, leaving Roxanne awed into silence.
The man of the hour was sprawled out on his couch, cushion over his face, and surrounded by empty beer cans and pizza boxes. The relief had Chica almost collapse on the spot. He was okay.
The sight had been enough to snap Roxanne out of her stupor with a snarl. “Wake up! If I can’t sleep neither can you!” With superhuman strength she jerked his limp body off the couch and onto the floor, then took said spot.
“The hell!” Montgomery roared as he jumped to life, pulled out of his restful sleep. He was still trying to figure out what was going on when he spotted just who was on his couch. “What ya doin’ ya madwoman!?”
“We came to check on you! Poor ole’ Monty. All alone.” She sneered, kicking the closest can to her. “I told you he’d be fine Chica. Can we go home now? My head’s busting.”
The bassist growled as he climbed to his feet. “Ya think it hurts now, jus’ wa-“
“I’m sorry we bothered you!” Chica jumped between the two of them, blocking his line of sight. Montgomery deflated with a sigh and crossed his arms. “It was my idea, I was worried about you since you didn’t come out-“
“And I told you.” Roxy huffed, “He was fine. Just being a pansy.”
“I still wanted to make sure!” She ignored the grouchy keytarist, her hands now carefully laying on his biceps to keep him focused on her. “I didn’t want you to think you were alone. Your friends are here for you!”
Montgomery opened and closed his mouth, seemingly a loss for words, when his bedroom door slid open. He couldn’t help but cringe at the sound and wanted to bury his head somewhere when both his bandmates turned to see you standing there. You looked like a hungover mess with a nest of hair and smeared mascara, grasping the door frame as you took in the scene before you.
“Alone my ass!” Roxanne cackled.
Chica’s jaw was on the floor and red bloomed across your cheeks. “It’s not what it looks like.”
That only made her laugh harder. “The hell it’s not! Here Chica was worried and he-he-he oh my god this is priceless!”
Montgomery covered his face. You really did have the worst timing.
Chica was still trying to form words, when Roxanne fell off the couch with tears now streaming down her face. “Whole new meaning to up her a-“
“Roxanne!” You were floundering, steps still wobbly and head swimming. “It’s not-“
“Then what are you doing here? In his bed!,” She howled, trying to sit upright. “So she really got on your good side-“
“Rox. Stop. You’re embarrassing her.” At the sound of Chica’s stern tone, she all but deflated in disappointment. Once satisfied with her bandmate’s silence, she turned her attention to you with a concerned smile. “You okay, sweetie?”
Wordlessly, you bobbled your head, still trying to orient yourself in the too bright, too loud room. Chica’s smile brightened as she grabbed your forearms and helped ease you onto the couch. Once you were settled with a blanket around your shoulders, she turned to face the still silent bassist.
“So…” She began, her grin now blinding.
Montgomery groaned, “She forgot her wallet. She had nothin’ to do, I had nothin’ to do, so we-“
“Oh, we can see what you-“
“Roxanne, hush,” She snapped. “Go on, Monty.”
“We drank some an’ hung out. Tol’ her to take the bed to sleep it off is all.”
Chica nodded in understanding, patting his arm in reassurance. “We’ll get out of your hair now that we know you’re okay. Make sure she gets home safe Monty. Come on Roxanne, let’s get going now.”
“But-but Chica-“
“I’ll make you that hangover drink you like and call your therapist so you can argue with her.” To that she perked right up and bounced to her feet, making sure to her sunglasses were still in place as Chica grabbed her arm to guide her out. “We’ll see you two tomorrow.”
“Oh yes we will-“
The door slid shut.
With a relieved sigh, your head fell into your open hands. Blissful, beautiful silence. Just what you needed to try and work your way through the gloss of alcohol on your memories. All the while, pointedly ignoring the towering bassist in front of you.
“Damn, bitch. It’s only two.” He grumbled, dragging his hands across his face, pink still warming his cheeks, “Ya good, cher?”
“Yeah,” You swallowed, wiping the cold sweat off your forehead. You felt like an idiot, getting drunk and stranding yourself here. “I’ll be out of your hair in just minute-“
A scoff cut you off. “Go back ta bed. Damn lightweight. I’ll wake ya up if it gets too late.”
You were ready to fight, to insist you could drive, but the roll of your stomach had your mouth clamped shut. The warmth of the sheets and the pitch black of his room called to you. You wanted nothing more than to go back into hiding, but deep down, you knew if you went back to sleep, you’d not wake up until tomorrow.
You were embarrassed just from Chica and Roxanne finding you, much less if the whole Pizzaplex saw you stumbling out of his room.
“I..I need to go home. I won’t get up…”
Montgomery huffed, still trying to wipe the pink from his face. If only it worked like that. “C’mon, I’ll take ya home.”
Eyes wide, you scrambled to your feet, “No, it’s okay, really-“
He was already pulling a pair of boots on, completely ignoring the internal panic you were having. “It’s either I take ya home, or ya stay. I doubt ya want anyone seein’ ya here tomorrow.”
Before you could refuse again, he threw you a sweatshirt and was at the door waiting. You did really want to go home and get in your own bed….and take a good hot shower. With a sigh, you yanked on the garment and reluctantly followed the rockstar.
“Ya can hang on, right?”
“What?”
The ride to your apartment had been brief, thanks to his motorcycle, and you managed to get up your steps without much trouble. Montgomery stayed in the parking lot, keeping his gaze carefully on you as your trudged up the stairs and gave him a meek wave at the entrance. Once the door shut and he was sure you were settled in, he took back off in the direction of the Pizzaplex, letting the purr of his bike tune out the persistent voice in his head telling him this was a mistake.
He shouldn’t have let you sleep in his bed, shouldn’t have invited you to get drunk or to hang out. It’d all been just one giant mistake. He did not have fun and did not enjoy your company.
With firm determination, the bassist kept repeating this mantra long after arriving back at the plex and into the late hours of the night. The thrum of his bass helped keep any more pesky thoughts at bay as he rattled the window to his room, until a ping of his watch shattered any and all concentration he’d had.
It was from you.
Thank you.
It was those two small words that had his cheeks warming and teeth grinding. Back came the nagging whispers at the edge of his mind that he attempted to reel back in strumming out anything and everything on his bass.
He would not reply, would not even give it a second thought. You were just being nice, that’s all, just being a good coworker by thanking him. It did not mean anything. Nothing at all.
Why did you have to start being so damn nice? What happened to the chick that got back in his face and cussed him into retreating? Where was the girl that lived to make his life hell yelling on his doorstep? When did he come to expect your company at his side? How had you gone from being always at a distance to suddenly being within reach…?
With a sudden snarl, he tossed his bass onto the couch and gripped his head in his hands, like he could squish all ideas associated with you. After several tense moments, he slowly picked up his phone and typed out a simple response before throwing it across the room, shattering it.
You’re welcome, cher.
Tomorrow was going to be hell.
All too soon, your alarm clock blared that Monday morning had finally arrived and shoved you out of bed. Some carefully placed makeup to help conceal any signs of sickness and your usual work wear, and you were out the door in record time. Compared to yesterday, you could run a marathon all the way to work, but didn’t have to thanks to public transportation, since some someone still had your car keys.
In no time it seemed, you were hopping off at the bus stop and walking the remainder short distance to the Pizzaplex. During the stroll, you finally checked your phone. Thankfully, you hadn’t missed much, just a few spam emails and a text from Montgomery.
Wait..
You did a double take, stopping in your tracks to reread the text message. It was from him, so you weren’t hallucinating, but maybe you were misreading the “you’re welcome” part.
Checking the time, you jogged the remainder of the distance, allowing the brisk morning air to sting your lungs. The Pizzaplex soon came into sight, and you slowed to a brisk walk through the parking lot. You tried to steady your shaky breathing as you made it inside, beginning the trek to Rockstar Row. You’d just made it onto the floor, when you saw Elizabeth flagging you down and her expression far from happy. Oh Fazbear, she knew. She knew about your drunken escapes over the weekend. You were done for. Fired.
Your stomach knotted as you approached her. It took several dry swallows before you were able to speak, “Morning Elizabeth.”
“Good morning,” She sighed, hand propped on her hip. “Montgomery trashed his room and his bass, again. Maybe if you warn him, he’ll listen, because he sure as hell isn’t listening to me! Higher ups will replace furniture and his bass, everything else is up to him. If he does it again, that’s it, he’ll have to find somewhere else to live and buy his own bass.”
Well, you weren’t expecting that and it showed on your face judging the small laugh from Elizabeth. She patted you on the shoulder, still grinning, “You’ve hung on this long, don’t let him run you off now.”
With that, she vanished back into the administrative offices, leaving you standing there stunned, but relieved. You weren’t fired and you still had your job.
On the other hand, you still had your job and now had to go face down the fire breathing gatorman as they called him.
A loud groan and you began heading in that direction, “Let’s get this over with.”
You could hear the window rattling even as you approached the room. This was far from the first tantrum you’d come across in the several months you’ve worked with him, but this was the first time you didn’t know what he could be pissed about. He had the weekend off and you thought he had a good time….
A firm shake of your head dislodged that thought and you stepped into the war zone, despite the roars of anger. No sooner had you crossed his threshold, did the crash of the TV echo back to you. His short red mohawk was mussed and his skin almost matched it in color to a T. With an arched brow, you watched as he pulled his foot back out of the TV screen and noted the smear of blood through his jeans.
“Least you’re up to date on your tetanus.”
Montgomery jerked ramrod straight, spinning to face you with a face full of venom. “The hell ya doin’ here?! Get OUT!”
You rubbed your forehead. “You done?”
“WOMAN. I said GET OUT. Are ya deaf?!”
“Uh huh,” You sighed, taking in the deep claw like marks imbedded in the walls. “How’d you manage that? Got a new manicure yesterday?
“You fuckin’ bitch-“
“I guess you’d have to use a knife.” You continued, ignoring the rockstar now storming towards you. You met his burning gaze head on as he stopped short of you and held out your hand expectantly. “Cough it up, big guy. It’s going to be a pain in the ass to fix that plaster-“
“Wha’ are ya goin’ on about ya’-“
“Bitch, yes, yes, everyone knows I’m a bitch. ANYWAY. Give me the knife and tell me what’s going on.”
His eyes narrowed, scowling, “Ya think we hang out one night and yer my friend-“
“No,” You breathed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “But I am your handler. If you’re pissed it’d be helpful if I knew why-“
“And ya ain’ my damn therapist!”
“There’s an idea, maybe I can get the number from Roxanne.” You’d turned to leave the room to do just that, when a rough hand grabbed your arm and yanked you roughly back in.
“Like hell-!”
“What the hell do you want from me, Montgomery!!?? You won’t tell me what the fuckin’ problem is! You want me to just act like you didn’t just trash your room and your bass, again!? Elizabeth just told me that they’ll only replace your furniture and bass this last time-“
He scoffed, looking way too smug to be standing in the middle of a shit storm. “Fuckin’ hilarious, ya think I give a damn ‘bout that?!”
“She said they’d kick you out.”
That caused him to pause. “She…..what?”
“She said they’d kick you out.” You repeated on the verge of trying to shake some sense into him. “I don’t know why you live here but-“
“That’s none yer damn business!”
Again, with the yelling. At this rate, you weren’t going to make any progress.
With a sigh, you kicked your heels off your feet to the side of the room, glancing at your watch, “Okay, kiddos usually come through here after first show at twelve. That’d give us about three to four hours…”
“The hell ya goin’ on ‘bout.”
“Fixing your room, try to keep up swamp breath.”
Fix his room? Were you still drunk?
“If we start now, it should at least be good enough for pictures if we can haul the broken stuff out and patch up the walls…”
“Yer….” He grabbed your arm again, though not as rough to make you look at him. “Yer goin’ to ….help me?
“I thought we already established that. Yes, I’m going to help you. Did a few beers fry you that bad?”
Montgomery’s shoulder fell and all signs of anger wiped off his face. “Ya….it’s not yer job..”
“I know that. We don’t have a schedule to keep up with anymore, remember?” Your small rueful grin stung more than he would’ve liked. “I’ll just give Jackson a heads up, so they can do what they need to. It won’t be perfect, but it’ll work.”
The last dredges of steam and hot air seemed to leak out of him, leaving nothing but what appeared to be genuine surprise. A quick pat to the hand on your arm and he dropped it, watching as you typed away on your watch.
“Okay, good to go. I’ll go down to maintenance and see if we can borrow some stuff.”
“I’ll do it!”
You paused halfway out the door, arching an eyebrow. Montgomery was now rubbing the back of his neck, “I…I mean, I’ll go. It’s my mess.”
A smile brightened your face. “Alright, I’ll flag down a cleaning bot to see if I can borrow an extra broom.”
Elizabeth reclined in her plush office chair with a sigh, arms crossed as she examined the email she just received. It was from the head honcho, Fazbear himself, which was never a pleasant surprise. The email was sparse and straight to the point, like usual.
Came across this in the security footage and found it inspirational. It’s time to renegotiate contracts with the band. I’d also like to schedule a time for the two of us to sit down with the newest handler, look at adding to her duties, and possible adjustment of pay. Promptly.
William Fazbear
Owner of Fazbear Entertainment
A chill ran down Elizabeth’s spine as she chewed on her thumbnail. On the computer screen was none other than you and Montgomery, singing and dancing on stage. That didn’t make a cold sweat break across her neck, oh no, it was that in picture perfect clarity you could see Montgomery’s face.
It was the fact that during the whole video, Montgomery was smiling.
Chapter 8: Surprises
Summary:
Gossiping hens and growth to come..
Notes:
Hello all!
I'm deeply sorry for the delay in posting of this chapter and this is a compilation of two months work. I was suffering from writer's block and fatigue of being an adult. It's not much, but I hope you all enjoy as always and I'll see you next time!
Chapter Text
When you had sent a message that you would be helping Montgomery fix up his room and not to expect you during the concert, Jackson thought he had to be reading it wrong. He’d been so fixated on his watch, staring in complete and utter disbelief that Freddy noticed his lack of attention.
They were in the middle of a kid’s birthday, it was unusual taking place so early in the morning, but parents were often determined to have Freddy be present on their child’s special day. So much so that there as little regard given to the time of availability.
The birthday boy, now seven years old, had just blown out his birthday candles, sparking a joyous round of applause. This was soon followed by the birthday boy’s eldest brother throwing a chunk of cake at his sibling, and as it usually does in a room full of children an all-out food fight went into swing.
It was then that Freddy noticed his handler’s absent, open mouth stare at his watch. Normally, Jackson would’ve already stepped in before the chaos erupted by redirecting the child’s attention or stopping the fight once it begun.
“Jackson, is something wrong?”
Said handler snapped to attention, taking in the mess around him and jolted into action. After handing out plenty of baby wipes, helping the parents settle the siblings into a game, he returned to his partner. Although, it was clear his mind was still on whatever was on his Fazwatch.
“Is everything alright?”
Jackson rubbed the back of his neck, once again glancing at the watch. “I guess so. Just got a message that she wouldn’t be attending the concert. Something about helping with Montgomery’s room.”
There was only one she that came to mind associated with his friend Montgomery. Freddy couldn’t help the small cringe. He had heard the uproar and anger echoing from the bassist’s room when he arrived early that morning. He had also heard the whispered giggles between Roxanne and Chica about that weekend and what they’d seen.
The idea of Monty making a new friend, especially with his handler, sounded wonderful to Freddy. “She’s helping with his room? That’s nice of her.”
“Yeah…it is.”
“They seem to be getting closer. I often see her playing golf with him and the kids now.”
“She…what?” Jackson gaped. “They’re playing golf together? Are we talking about the same two people?”
Freddy nodded with a wide smile. “That’s what I thought! I can still hear them fight, but it’s nice to see Montgomery get along with someone new.”
Jackson had known you two were spending more time one on one together. It’d become a common occurrence to go into the breakroom and find Montgomery hovering over your shoulder as you entered your daily reports. Any questions were often cut off by the bassist’s burning glares or venomous scowl.
“Maybe I should check on them….”
“That sounds wonderful! Once the party finishes up, let’s see if we can lend them a hand!”
As the duo entered Rockstar Row, they were met with the buzz of bickering.
“I don’ know who ya think ya are but put that down!”
“It’s fiiiinnneee.”
“WOMAN!”
A loud resounding crash had Jackson and Freddy both jogging to Montgomery’s door. Jackson wasted no time barging in, only to find the two of you having a glare off, covered in green paint. Freddy soon followed and couldn’t help himself.
“Monty, why are you covered in paint?”
The bassist in question let a growl rumble in his chest, smearing the paint on his face with the back of his arm. “This….This….THING had the bright idea to try an’ carry paint up ‘ere.”
You rolled your eyes, ignoring the green streaked in your hair. “You said you wanted it to look good for the kids! Green spotted flooring looks better than white patches on the wall.”
“If ya’d jus’ listened-“
“Me?! You wanted my help!”
“No ma’am!” He jabbed a finger into your face, “No! I told ya to get out! Ya deaf banshee!”
Instead of the inevitable explosion between you two that he’d come to expect, he watched as your face cracked into a small smile that was soon followed by a laugh. Monty continued to look at you as if you lost your mind, but eventually he deflated into a grin of his own.
Jackson blinked and rubbed his face. He had to be hallucinating. Freddy, however, wasn’t as hung up on it as he was.
“It’s wonderful to see you two getting along so well!” He clapped his hands together, “We came to offer our assistance-“
“Beat it an’ take Cappin’ ‘Merica with ya. I already got one headache. I don’ need three.”
Despite being shoved from the room and having the door forcefully shut in his face, Freddy’s smile only widened and Jackson’s confusion deepened.
By the time the evening concert ended, and the kids rolled around for their photo-ops there was no evidence of his previous temper tantrum other than the new green spots decorating the carpet.
None of the excited children gave the flooring a second glance, but instead focused on asking him why he hadn’t been at the concert and pleading for their pictures to be next. He took it all in stride with nothing but giant smiles to be had for his little fans, excitedly taking the time to pose and talk to each and every one.
And to think, he almost missed all of this, because he got so upset over what? Montgomery paused, eyebrows scrunching together between photographs. Why had he been angry again?
His change in demeanor had caught your attention on the sidelines with the cooing and fawning mothers. After all, who didn’t love a bad boy with a soft spot for children? You were about to approach when his gaze caught yours. Slowly, but surely, confusion hardened into frustration.
As soon as he saw your questioning glance he snapped back to attention for the next kiddo. Meanwhile, the mom currently hanging on your side persistently kept asking when you decided to add a green stripe to your hair to match Roxanne’s.
The hours ran by painfully slow from that point forward, practically ticking down to the last photo snapping in his face. Eventually, he gave his last fan an eager hug and waved her out the door.
It was only then he saw you sag against the wall with a relieved sigh. “Thank god, if I got asked one more time if you were single I was going to scream.”
He nodded absently, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He couldn’t remember the last time someone helped him. Years ago? He knew it’d been a solid year since Freddy had dared to try and offer him help alone, much less Roxanne and Chica. His outbursts had become too frequent to keep up with and after repeatedly being shut down, they all gradually quit offering.
Yet here you were, a persistent thorn in his side.
“If we leave now, we can play some golf with the kids before the birthday party this evening.”
He snapped back toward you, “We?”
“I mean…if you want me to?” You laughed, pulling back your paint-stained hair. “I can stay on the catwalks if you want.”
“Uh…,” He had expected you to but, hearing it out loud had thrown him off. “Yeah, the kids ‘xpect it.”
You chuckled once more, pushing off the wall and brushing passed him without another thought. “Well come on.”
You didn’t turn back to see the hesitation clear on his face or the way he mussed his mohawk in thought. But you didn’t get the chance to either. With a sag of his shoulders and a rueful smirk, he’d closed the distance between the two of you and was back at your side.
Maybe not all thorns were bad.
Chica squealed. “Really?!”
She, Freddy, and Roxanne were holed up in the salon that was closed for a late “lunch”. Chica was seated in one of the plush chairs with her friend flipping her hair this way and that as Freddy had finished delivering his bit of gossip to them.
Roxanne clicked her tongue, pushing Chica’s head forward once more and gave her a warning glare through the mirror. “If ya don’t stay still I might as well shave you.”
The guitarist merely rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to Freddy leaning against the counter. “What else did you see?”
“That’s all I saw before we got kicked out.” He chuckled.
Roxanne snorted, “I’ve been saying since the beginning he’s been up her ass. When are you going to learn it’s best to always listen to me?” Colby choked on his water, earning a glare in retaliation. “Got something you want to say?”
“Oh no, don’t mind me.” He drawled, still gasping for air, “Continue on, your greatness.”
The keytarist’s eyes narrowed as she took hold of her cutting sheers. “Keep it up, you’re due for your trim soon.”
The redhead smirked and reclined back onto the bench he was seated on between his two fellow handlers. Jackson stayed hard at work as always, working on Freddy’s ever-changing schedule to ensure that they wouldn’t be late for any events. Meanwhile, Lee was sprawled out on the cold floor, limp with exhaustion and lack of will to live from the grueling Mazercise routines he was forced to participate in this morning.
“Roxy! Focus!!” Chica chirped, hands flapping as she leaned towards Freddy. “Did I tell you that she was here with him over the weekend?!”
That had all three handlers’ heads snapping upward in unison.
“She what?”
“Yes!!! We came to check on Monty, since he didn’t go out with us, and she was with him!”
“In his bed no less.”
All three men didn’t blink, remaining frozen as Freddy’s jaw dropped. “Already?”
“Oh, don’t listen to her. It wasn’t like that. Poor girl was embarrassed enough as it was.” The guitarist scolded. “I believe him when he said it was innocent.”
Roxanne laughed, “Sure, Chica. They may not have done anything, but when have you ever heard of Monty letting anyone in his bed. Hell, I’ve been drunk plenty of times and he’s never offered to let me sleep in there.” With a flip of her hair, she shifted her weight to her other hip and began trimming the frayed hairs. “He’s threatened anyone who’s ever went near his room. He’d rather have hookups in supply closets than anyone step foot in there.”
Chica bounced in her seat, “It’s so cute.”
“That’d explain a lot.”
Everyone froze and turned to Jackson, who was too focused on the tablet to have noticed the sudden change in the atmosphere at his comment. Colby and Lee glanced at their friend once more, before Colby elbowed the man out of his work daze to notice everyone’s eyes on him.
Roxanne quirked a brow, then pointed her sharp shears at him. “Cough it up. I have ways of making you talk.”
Jackson gulped, looking to Freddy for help, but found none. “W-well….I mean. He’s been in the breakroom with her a lot.”
The three rockstars froze.
“He’s been in the breakroom with her?!” Chica shrieked.
Colby shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah? Is that a big deal or somethin’.”
Suddenly the handlers were surrounded by their charges, each baring their own mischievous smile. Chica squatted down to Jackson’s level. “What else do you know little birdie?”
“Cher, if ya gonna hang with me, yer gonna have to get better at golf. It’s embarrassin’ that my own handler can’t play.” Montgomery looked all too confident, arms crossed behind his head and smug smirk on his lips. You shook your head in response and focused on your notes.
It was the end of the day, kids and parents begun filing out the doors and lights began to dim at the attractions. The two of you were making your way back to Rockstar Row to finish up your paperwork, then call it a day.
“You’ll get over it ya cry baby. They didn’t put golf as a requirement for this job.” You squinted in attempt to make out your own scribbles. “Be happy I ain’t making you buy the bottle of shampoo it’ll take to get this paint out of my hair.”
The bassist subtly nudged you out of the way of oncoming traffic, allowing you to bob and weave through the departing crowd without even noticing his help. “That was yer fault.”
You slapped his side, not even looking up to see his smirk widen or the brightening of his features.
“Aye, cher, ya got any plans?”
That made you stop and finally tear your attention away from your hieroglyphics. “Not much outside of taking a shower and sleeping.”
Montgomery rubbed the back of his neck. “Ya wanna stick around or-“
“You want me to stay?” You repeated, clearly confused. “I thought we weren’t friends.”
Red began creeping up his neck as he began looking anywhere but you. “W-We ain’….m-more like acquaintances….”
“Acquaintances?”
“Y-Yeah, not friends….but..maybe….” His normal cool composer was beginning to crumble and your smile began to widen much to his horror. “Y-ya know what, forget it. Yer crummy company anyway.”
The bassist shoved his way past you, stomping the remainder of the way to the double doors that led to Rockstar Row. What could he expect? You’d say yes? He’d been a dick to you and even then you helped him clean his room so he could do his meet and great with the kids.
“Waya got in mind?” He froze in his tirade, whipping around to face you with surprise evident on his face. You couldn’t help but chuckle, “Just saying I’ll destroy you in karaoke this time.”
Montgomery’s once tense posture slowly relaxed and his scowl melted into his usually cocky grin. “Tha’ so?”
“Oh yeah, been practicing a ton.” You lied easily, resting your hands on your hips. Gradually, your charge made his way back to you, and you prayed that the burning heat on your cheeks wasn’t showing as he towered over you, “Think ya can handle it?”
His sharp canines gleamed in the overhead light. “Bring it on, cher.”
Chapter 9: Not Just a River in Egypt
Summary:
Stupid fights and denial.
Notes:
Hello all!
Thanks everyone for all the comments, kudos, bookmarks, and subscriptions! They make my day every time. I wrote this in one day, so please excuse the typos, I'll come back and double check for them. Hope you enjoy as always!
Chapter Text
The following weeks had gone by in a flurry of Monty Golf, karaoke, and Fazerblast. It somehow had turned into a tradition that after work, you’d stay after to spend some one-on-one time with the bassist. With every song and game, the two of you played, you seemed to get that much closer. It started with him beginning to share one fact a day with you. You’d even pointed out that he didn’t have to, but your protests went unnoticed.
Each day you’d get a new piece to the ever-building puzzle that was Montgomery Gator. Gator wasn’t his real last name, but of course a stage name, like the rest of the band. It’d been corporates idea to have each member be associated with an animal and Louisiana had been his home in his younger years. It was easy enough to see how he got his.
That’d explain the cartoon characters of the band as animals posted across the Pizzaplex.
He’d met Freddy and them in his teen years, after they had already formed a band. Someone named Bonnie had taught him how to play the bass, before he had left the band. He was an only child raised by a fiery mother. He loved gumbo, but it had to taste genuine. Not the “knock off” stuff that many restaurants in the area served.
Those were just a few of the things he had decided to share. Of course, you took it all in with a grin on your face.
Then he stopped watching you put in your notes at the end of the day. Sure, he still tagged along, but it became obvious he wasn’t genuinely paying attention to anything you typed. A sharp contrast to the months before.
That was when your “problem” started. It’d be a lie if you said you didn’t enjoy spending time with him, he was funny and always kept you on your toes. But the abnormal amount of time you spent with a gorgeous rockstar, who you’d started to see in a different light, began to take its toll on you……
It was another after-work bonding session, you were perched on the edge of the stage, trying to catch your breath and wipe the sweat out of your eyes. Amongst the numerous rounds, Montgomery had decided you needed to learn to sing, after all where was the challenge? He was a professional.
Each time you felt like acid had been poured down your throat. Who were you kidding? You’d never sung with effort a day in your life and these guys did it seven days a week.
You evened off your breaths and cautiously sipped on your bottle of water. Thankfully, you’d learned to come well prepared with plenty of water, since the bassist opted to have you dance while you sang with him.
“My favorite colors are green an’ purple.”
You arched a brow and turned to face the very cause of your misery, who had begun stretching as though the past hour had been a warm-up. “Like Barney?”
Montgomery scowled. “No! Not like fuckin’ Barney!”
“You are a kids entertainer, I don’t judge.”
“Yer jus’ tryin’ to piss me off now.”
A smirk quirked your lips, “Is it workin’?”
He flipped you off, making a laugh bubble free despite your sore abdomen. “Keep it up, cher. Keep it up.”
Warmth pooled in your cheeks as you jerked your head back forward. What was your problem?! Sharply, you shook your head and hauled yourself up to your feet, checking your Fazwatch to see the late hour.
Tomorrow was a Friday, which meant double the kids and triple the parties. Montgomery had started scrolling through the tablet in search of new material, probably for another round.
With a sigh, you stretched up onto your toes, enjoying the small pops of relief down your back. “I’m going to call it a night, tomorrow is a Friday.”
That got his attention. In an instant, Monty looked up to see your shirt hike up just enough to show a sliver of flushed skin. Red began to creep up his neck as he found the screen of the blank tablet much more interesting. The tablet had become his favorite fidget toy. Whenever he got hung up on what to say or couldn’t help but stare at the strands of hair that clung to your neck….
He cleared his throat. “Damn lightweight.”
You merely rolled your eyes, collecting your belongings and hopping off the stage to begin the hunt for your car keys. They always managed to not be where you last put them. Or it could be this job had finally drove you insane after six months dealing with your partner.
Just as you spotted them, a large hand swiped them up. “Am I gonna have ta keep track of ‘em, cher?”
You fought and fought hard to keep the shiver from rolling down your spine at the rumbled growl. Maybe it was time to get Roxanne’s therapist’s number. He was a rockstar, you were the freaking help compared to him. This was just a job, just a job. Just a paycheck…
“C’mon, I’ll walk ya to yer car.”
That got your attention. You couldn’t help the mild panic sweeping through you. You did not need any more time around him. “Y-You don’t have to do that! Really! It’s just a few feet-“
His hot red glare made your mouth snap shut. “I’m not askin’.”
“Montgomery-“
“Monty.”
“Huh?” You could not have heard that right, you were hallucinating. “Did you spike my water?”
To that Montgomery tipped his star shaped glasses up on his head, “I’m gunna pretend ya didn’ say tha’, cher. Now get yer ass in gear.”
“I don’t know just who you think you are Montgomery-“
“Monty,” He hissed through his teeth. “Call me Monty.”
“What’s the big deal?! I’ve always walked myself to my car.” You insisted, irrational anger bubbling beneath your skin. “Suddenly, I’m not capable?”
The bassist suddenly found himself at a loss for words. What could he say? You weren’t wrong, much to his frustration. Hell, he didn’t even know why he was doing this. All he knew was he gotten so used to turning and seeing you there…
Oh, hell no. No. No. No
He tossed you the keys. “Alrigh’ see if I care.”
At that moment, he knew he messed up. The small crack in your anger let an ounce of hurt shine through. By the time his mind caught up with his mouth, you had already retreated out into the night, slamming the door for good measure.
Fuck.
“Fuck.” Elizabeth slumped into her seat, looking up to the neon tiles.
It had been hard, but so far, she’d been able to delay meeting after meeting with Fazbear. The last one she attended only resulted at him yelling at her, questioning what was so hard about setting up a meeting with you.
It wasn’t hard at all. You wouldn’t have a choice in the matter. It would go like every other handler’s had gone. All smiles and fake pleasantries, offering up a huge pay raise in exchange for your loyalty to him and a small clause of you keeping an eye on Montgomery. If you refused, you’d be blackballed from everything associated with the Fazbear name, which happened to be most of the state.
Elizabeth rubbed her forehead in thought. There had to be a way around this, a way to prevent the old bastard from sinking his claws into you like he had all the others.
With a sigh, she looked at the security footage from the night before. She was the manager after all. Anything and everything that went on in the Pizzaplex she knew. Elizabeth knew the two of you were spending more time with each other, she’d seen the way Montgomery had started sneaking looks at you when he thought no one noticed and saw you smiling more frequently at him.
A loud ping of a new email drew Elizabeth out of her stupor and made her cringe when she read the contents. Seemed like Fazbear had gotten tired of waiting and decided to set his own meeting.
He’d be here in a week. A week. Seven small days to figure this mess out.
She could prevent this. She could. She just had to think outside the box.
She owed it to Monty.
After all, she’d been his first handler.
Okay, maybe you had overreacted. The soured thought crossed your mind as you swiped your badge bright and early the next morning. As much as you hated to admit it, you’d gotten practically no sleep that night. Too busy replaying the scene over, and over, and over again until you were ready to claw your own eyes out.
Eventually, after hours of fighting off the plaguing thoughts, you succumbed to some self-reflection. If it’d been anyone else, would you have acted like you had last night?
Nope.
You wouldn’t have cared in the slightest.
You only cared because it was him. Any other band member or even handler, you would’ve thanked them and talked their ear off all the way to the car. But noooo, you and your damned pride.
He’d even asked you to start calling him Monty…
God, you had to pull yourself together. Just because you were having thoughts and feelings, didn’t mean it was Montgomery’s fault. He hadn’t done anything to deserved being yelled at.
Alright, maybe he deserved just a little yelling for thinking he could boss you around. But just a little.
It was with that thought you pushed open the breakroom door, ready to face the inevitable music, when you froze in the doorway. Standing in a united front just inside the entrance was your fellow handlers, each had their arms cross, and disturbingly blank expressions.
“Uhh, good morning?” Without warning, Lee snatched your free arm and drug you inside, shutting the door behind you. One by one you looked at the men, before giving up. “What’s going on?”
Colby cupped his chin in dramatic thought, “Oh what could be going on? Do you know what’s going on Jackson?”
“Not a clue.”
“Lee?”
“Clear as mud.” He responded, breaking his stance just long enough to sip an energy drink. Then, he fixed his dark gaze on you. “What is going on? Huh, cher?”
You quirked an eyebrow. “Okaaayyyy. You guys gonna spell it out or-“
“What the fuck are you doing with Montgomery Gator?!” Colby exploded, dragging his hands down his face. “I mean we all thought you were a little crazy having lasted this long but damn I didn’t know you were insane.”
Your mouth open and closed, trying to form words with no success. Jackson took it as an opportunity to speak up. “We’re worried. We know you can take care of yourself, obviously you can. But this has gone past work relations.”
“We’ve noticed some things.”
“Like what?” You threw your hands in the air. “What is there to notice?!”
“He’s flirting with you, chica.” Lee deadpanned. “You may not see it, but we can. Hell, Montgomery may not even know what he’s doing. I’ve been here a while and I’ve never heard of him having a relationship.”
No. NO. You could not let the idea creep back in. You needed your job. You didn’t need this. You absolutely couldn’t do this to yourself. After all your hard work, months of catching up on debt, you would not-
“Cher?”
NOT NOW.
With a cringe, you turned toward the now open doorway to find none other than Montgomery Gator. Of course. You watched as he gradually looked from handler to handler, until his red gaze landed on you. Instantly his jaw locked and his back straightened, now staring down the three men in the room.
“We got a problem?” He rumbled, arms crossing across his broad chest.
“Not at all.” Colby snorted, looking all too smug. “Just our usual team meeting every morning.”
The quirk of the bassist’s brow showed he thought otherwise. “Awful loud for a meetin’”
“Wow, look at the time! We better get going! Come on, the kids will be waiting on us.” You chuckled nervously, grabbing your partner’s shirt in retreat. “C’mon Monty.”
His attention snapped to you, forgetting about the three men he had begun to size up. Still in quiet astonishment, you were able to drag the superstar out the door with no complaints.
“Maybe we don’t need to worry about her.” Lee broke the silence, sipping on his energy drink for that morning. “We might need to worry about him.”
You had decided to stay on the catwalks for the day. Monty would be lying if he said that didn’t make him suspicious. He still needed to talk to you about last night but didn’t want to invade your personal space, especially after the fight. You’d been acting off since he went looking for you this morning and found you in the middle of an interrogation circle. The sight alone made him begin to see red, until……
You called him Monty.
He should’ve stayed to figure out what was going on, not let you drag him away. With a groan, he rubbed his jaw, partially watching the kids take their turns at the next hole, but also trying not to keep track of you up on the catwalks.
It’d been a long time since you went up there, months even. Why now? Were you that mad? A flash of the hurt in your eyes came back to mind and made him drag his hand down his face. He needed to get a grip. This was his career. These were his kids. He’d do anything for them, anything.
A creeping thought, just a whisper at the back of his mind, told him he may do anything for you too……
His gaze turned to the ceiling in exhaustion. This was going to be a long day.
You didn’t know how long you’d been up on the catwalks, soaking in the cool breeze and rhythmic click of your heels on the metal. That’s what you missed about being up here. It gave you a chance to gather your thoughts without eyes on you. In the earlier days, before the truce, you’d loved it. But now, you couldn’t help the noticeable absence of a certain superstar from your side.
It made you sick to your stomach. This was the best job you’d had in years; the pay was unbelievable, and the benefits were nothing to sneeze at. You didn’t want to mess that up. This was your ticket out of debt.
Regardless of your feelings, you did owe him an apology. With a heavy sigh, you leaned against the guard rail, watching the kids below run and scream in excitement. But there was a noticeable lack of a large man with a green and purple leather jacket on.
“Yer awful nosey.”
The most ungodly scream tore from your throat, whirling around to come face to face with none other than the reason for your headache. “Shit Montgomery! Don’t do that!”
A small smirk quirked his lips, leaning against the railing beside you. “Didn’ take ya as such a scaredy cat.” The glare you gave in response only made his smirk turn into an all too confident grin. “So, do ya plan on us making it to the show on time? Or we skippin’?”
Oh hell. A quick check of your Fazwatch confirmed that they were only minutes away from being late. How long had you been up there? How long had he been up here?
“You’re getting too comfortable playing hooky.” You muttered, beginning to type out a quick text to Jackson to say the two of you were on your way. Thankfully you’d finally gotten around to get the other handlers’ numbers; it was much easier than typing on the watch. “C’mon, let’s get a move on.”
You didn’t see the smile fall from his face or the way his eyes widened as you began to trek past him. But you did notice the suddenly large, calloused hand that wrapped around your wrist and gently tugged you back to face him.
“A-About last night.” The neon lights only highlighted the red now staining his tan face. “I-What I mean is….uhm….”
“I’m sorry.” You sighed, pulling your arm free from him to cross your arms across your chest. Looking at the guard rail seemed much easier than looking at him right now. “I shouldn’t have yelled….well, not that much anyway.” Finally, you gazed at him, arching a brow at his flustered state. “You were trying to be nice, and I appreciate it. But you do not tell me what to do. If you’d like to do something with me, you ask, not tell me.”
Slowly, he processed your words. You had been mad, that’s why you were avoiding him.
“I-,” He cleared his suddenly dry throat. “Alrigh’.”
Only then did that oh so familiar grin grace your lips. “Is that all you wanted to talk about?”
No. No it wasn’t. He wanted to know why his stomach was in knots and why he could not stop fidgeting. He hadn’t noticed just how close you were, until then. The sweet smell of your fabric detergent and shampoo was making him feel like he was drowning.
“Sure.”
“Okay then,” You chuckled, turning away once more. “You coming?”
Montgomery Gator wasn’t a chicken. He was cocky, self-assured, and knew what he wanted. But in the haze of butterflies and anxiety, all he knew is he wanted to ask one more thing.
“Can I walk ya to yer car tonight?” Your gaze could’ve pierced straight through him, confusion obvious on your features. “I-I…I mean, if that’s okay with you? I know ya can walk yerself.”
In the minutes it took for you to process what he had said, he thought he was going to tear his hair out. Why? Why you of all people? I mean sure, you were always around, but you were supposed-
No, you weren’t.
A tiny amount of reassurance calmed his nerves. You weren’t supposed to stay after hours, it wasn’t your job to eat pizza with him, or talk with him. You didn’t have to help him clean his room or play golf or Fazerblast with him. You didn’t even have to let him teach you how to sing, which he knew deep down had been an excuse he’d made to keep you there longer. But you had agreed to all of it and he knew all too well you wouldn’t do something you didn’t want to.
So…
So did that mean….that you…
“Sure.”
Monty snapped out of his trance and your smile widened. He swallowed, hands shoving into his pockets. “Sure?”
“Yes, you can walk me to my car tonight.” You repeated, pink began to flush your skin. “But only if you get your ass in gear and make it to the show on time.”
A comfortable smirk quirked his lips. “As long as you start calling me Monty.”
“Alright, alright, Monty. C’mon.”
Without another word the two of you began to descend the catwalks.
Oh, you were in so much trouble.
Chapter 10: Secrets
Summary:
Secrets amongst friends and parking lot deals
Notes:
Hello!
This is probably the longest chapter I've wrote at 10 pages. Not so much fluff in this one, more about answering some questions and moving the plot forward. As always I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter Text
The last concert for the evening had reached its peak. The crowds’ screams echoed throughout, and the music vibrated the floors. Freddy and the Gang were giving it their all, pulling out all the stops to end the night on the highest note possible.
However, that atmosphere did not carry over backstage. The four of you were in the usual positions, attention fixated on the tablets as the concert boomed through the headsets. The longer the night went on, the louder the music got. It got to the point that you had to turn down your mic.
Luckily or unluckily, your thoughts had gone away from the noise and was fixated on what had happened early. The whole situation played on repeat, making your hands sweat and shake. You swiped your hands over the dark material of your skirt and took a deep breath, feeling your stomach roll in rebellion.
Why did you agree to let him walk you out tonight?
Well, why not? You were a grown ass woman, not a kid with a stupid crush. Why couldn’t he walk you out?
It’s not like it meant anything. He was being a nice…. acquaintance?
That’s exactly what it was. You had yourself worked up for no reason.
The notion that Montgomery was flirting with you even sounded ridiculous. He couldn’t be. Why would he? With all the options he had, from the single mothers at the plex to the ladies that saw him at the weekend performances, why settle for you?
“Aye, you alright?”
You jumped and turned to your partner. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine.”
Jackson pursed lips, brows creasing in concern. “You sure?” He looked you over, the concern only deepening at the sight of your flushed cheeks and pale skin. “You look sick.”
Well, you did feel like crap, fitting that you would look it too. You swiped your hands over your skirt once more, guising the gesture as straightening the fabric. He had good intentions, all the boys did. That morning’s questioning was nothing more than worried coworkers trying to talk to you.
“I’m alright…just tired.”
It wasn’t a lie. Although deep down, you knew there was a bigger problem than a lack of sleep.
“Does it have to do with Montgomery?”
You could’ve choked. God, did everyone have to bring him up? With a sigh, you reasserted, “I’m just tired.”
“Uh huh. Sure, it’s not.” He scoffed, glancing at his tablet then back to you. “You’re a crap liar, you know that?”
Now you were getting aggravated.
“I. Said. I’m. Tired.” You grit through your teeth.
Jackson raised his hands in surrender, a humorous glint in his gaze. “Okay, okay. You’re our teammate, we just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
You knew he meant that to be reassuring, but all it did was make you curious. “How would I get hurt?”
“I’m not saying you will……I’m just…Montgomery….” A loud groan left him. “Listen, it’s not safe.”
“What’s not safe?”
“Hey genius!” Colby chimed in over the screech of Chica’s guitar. “Your mic is on. Everyone can hear you.”
All color drained from Jackson’s face and the beginnings of a cold sweat started to dot his forehead. It took a minute for you to register what had been said, but when it did it hit you hard.
If Colby could hear them, that meant the band could and if the band could then Monty……
Oh.
OH.
This wasn’t going to be good.
Chica’s gaze cut to the bassist next her as the static on the other end silenced. Thankfully, someone caught on and disconnected the mic system. As much as he tried, irritation shown through Montgomery’s performance. She could practically hear his teeth grinding over the music.
She had heard what had been said, so she knew for sure he had.
Slowly, Chica backed toward him, allowing Roxanne to take front and center with Freddy. A silent look amongst the three confirmed that this needed to be handled before they finished. Once beside him, the heat of his furious red glare could’ve burned through her. He was almost vibrating with restrained anger.
“Monty, don’t.” She whispered so the microphones didn’t pick it up. Gently, she nudged him with her hip. “You don’t know what they were talking about.”
“Tha’ so?” He ground out, “Sounded to me tha’ ole Boy Wonder was tellin’ her I’m dangerous.”
It was no secret that Montgomery had become very fond of you. Which Chica suspected ran much deeper than that, so to hear his name and the word dangerous in the same sentence associated with you had been the breaking point.
Chica cringed, “We don’t know for sure. All we heard was-“
“I’m kickin’ his ass.” He rumbled deep in chest as his muscles coiled in anticipation. “It’s been a long time comin’.”
“Monty, no-“
And right on cue, the concert ended with the final strum of her guitar. Hesitantly, Chica watched as her bandmate’s scowl deepened and body went rigid. The crowd’s cheers fell on deaf ears. The bassist kept up appearances, waving to the fans like he usually did and participating in the end of the show bow. But almost as soon as they righted themselves, the lights came back on, and the crowd began to trickle out did he drop the façade.
Montgomery slammed his bass onto the closest stand and turned to make his way backstage. Freddy jumped into action, putting himself in the line of fire.
“Now Monty, we don’t know-“
The steam practically shot out his nose. “Move it Fazbear, unless you wan’ some too.”
“Jackson wasn’t saying-“
“Wha’ the fuck did it sound like to ya, huh? She’s my….my-“ A loud snarl and shake of his head. “Forget it, now move.”
The four of you were gathered, listening as the shouts and pleas grew closer and closer. Montgomery all but ripped the velvet curtain down to get to his target.
Freddy had locked his arms around his friend’s torso in the vain attempt to hold him back, but only managed to get dragged across the floor by his heels. Roxanne and Chica were close behind, Chica begging him to stop and Roxanne egging him on.
None of it broke through the haze of anger that suffocated him. How dare that goody two shoes ever insinuate that he’d be a danger to you.
In his furious rampage, he only saw Jackson. Oh, he couldn’t wait to show him just how pissed off he was. Finally, Monty shook Freddy off him and snatched the handler off the ground, fisting his hands into his polo and slammed him up against the wall. The blonde’s feet dangled in the air.
“So, ya’ think I’m dangerous, huh?”
“Not helping your case much.” Jackson swallowed, “How about we talk about-“
Montgomery snarled, teeth shining in the overhead light, “I’ll show ya’ dangerous-“
“Montgomery Gator. Let. Him. Go. NOW.”
That sounded like…
It distracted him just enough that Freddy was able to regain his lock around the bassist’s waist, then slam him to the side. Jackson dropped to the cold metal floor, taking in a deep breath as Colby and Lee helped him back to his feet.
A fierce growl echoed as the rampaging rockstar knocked the singer off of him with a thud. With practiced ease, he bounced back on his feet and turned to finish what he started, only to come face to face with you.
Pissed would be an understatement. You were so red that you had almost turned purple. If it’d been anything else, he might’ve taken that as a sign, but no he was focused on getting his hands on that little liar.
He attempted to weave around you, but you matched his steps thanks to all the dancing he had taught you. It was with an irritated snarl that he charged in a vain attempt make you move. You didn’t budge an inch as you snatched him by the collar of his shirt and tugged him down to your level, putting him nose to nose with you.
“Cher, move.”
Your eyes narrowed, “Not happening.”
His teeth ground, why couldn’t you listen just this once? “Damnit woman, why can’t you-”
“Do you think I would let someone else tell me how to think?” Your nose brushed against his unintentionally as you tightened your grip on him. “I’m capable of forming my own opinions, Monty. What’s going to happen if you hit him? He gets the day off and you get canned.”
Those words shattered the bubble around the two of you. Everyone else bled into view and the anger resurfaced. With a snarl, he jerked free from your hold as if it burned.
“What’s dangerous?” He growled.
“What?”
“Ya said it’s dangerous,” A sneer marred the superstar’s lips. “What is?”
To that, Jackson gave a wry chuckle. “Think about it. What is one thing in this whole place you would consider dangerous?” He nodded his head toward you, “Especially to her.”
It felt like ground fell from beneath his feet. There was nothing in the whole plex he would consider dangerous to you…..except…..
Colby’s sigh brought him back to reality, “Listen, just watch her, okay?”
Montgomery was going to be sick. He had thought about it when you were hired, but in the months together, the threat had only become a whisper to him.
He swallowed dryly, “Ya…. Ya know?”
Chica joined in, sadness oozing off her as she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Monty, we all knew. I told you we knew what you were going through. I wasn’t kidding.”
The pieces started to fall into place. One by one he sorted through the conversations with his friends, and it all started fitting together. What sense would it make to only make sure he couldn’t leave? One band member can easily be replaced, but all four?
“So….I wasn’ crazy?”
“Nope, as unfortunate as that is.” Roxanne quipped, joining her handler’s side to use him as the prop he was. Colby rolled his eyes but shifted his weight to accommodate her. “We just happen to be good at making deals. But she has been here for six months. It’d be about that time.”
“What the hell is going on?” All eyes landed on you then and if looks could kill they’d all be six feet under, “If this has to do with me, don’t you think I should know?!”
The silence spoke for itself. With a snarl, you left the stage and were out of sight.
This is dangerous.
That is dangerous.
But no one would say what was dangerous.
Why couldn’t anyone in the damned Pizzaplex ever make a point without talking in circles?
Your stomach twisted into tight knots the more you thought about it. Everybody had look so pale….so scared. But it’d make too much sense to tell you what the problem was, or what was putting you in this so called “danger.”
Let’s just talk around you.
With a scowl, you snatched your bag out of the locker and slammed it shut. Thankfully, it was time for you to leave. You’d get the hell out of here and go home. If no one wanted to have a grownup conversation, then they could have it amongst themselves. You were done.
You had thought, had, that out of all of them you could trust Monty to tell you the truth. He sure didn’t have a problem any other time saying what was on his mind. Why was it a problem now? You were supposed to be…. Acquaintances? Friends?
A groan and you tried to rub away the mounting headache. Maybe you just needed to go back home. There was that internship at the tech company your father worked at, or maybe even take that secretary job your brother kept bringing up at his engineering job.
But you had already quit so many times…...
Embarrassingly, this was the longest job you ever held. Plus, neither of those jobs could even compare to the money you made with this gig. It’d take you forever to pay everything back on those salaries. You couldn’t fail…. not again…not this time.
A deep breath and you jerked the door open, ready to go home.
Or you would have if you hadn’t run face first into a sturdy chest. After months, you knew all too well just who it was, and it had your nerves back on edge.
Your eyes squeezed shut and reluctantly you let him gently guide you backwards into the breakroom. Once the soft click of the door shutting filled your ears, did you finally face the music.
“Cher.”
“What? You going to tell me what’s going on?”
Monty cringed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Now, isn’t really a good time-“
You snorted. “Well damn, ain’t that convenient.”
His red eyes darkened in response. “Cher-“
“Don’t fuckin’ cher me.” You hissed, pulling out of his grasp. “Now tell me what’s going on Montgomery.”
He refused to look at you, head tilting this way and that, scanning the break room with his eyebrows furrowed in thought. Once satisfied, he began turning over tables and chairs, making sure to run his hand underneath.
“You want to share with the class.”
Monty huffed, pulling your locker open and sticking his head inside to check the top. “Just give me a damn minute woman, I’m a lookin’.” Eyes narrowed in concentration and teeth ground. After he was certain that he had looked at every possible knock and cranny, did he shut the door and moved onto the boys’ lockers. Theirs didn’t even budge as the locks rattled. “Damn it.”
“What-“
“Can I walk ya out?”
You had agreed to it earlier, but that had been before…“I don’t-.”
Calloused hands gripped your wrists to bring your attention back to him. “Please.”
Hell must have frozen over. You blinked and tried to respond but found yourself at a loss for words. So, you gave a reluctant nod and watched Montgomery’s shoulders sag in relief.
“Great,” With a forced grin he began to lead you out. “We’ll talk outside. I promise ya.”
The walk to the car had been tense and awkward. You still didn’t know what to say and the towering bassist looked like he was walking on eggshells. The silence had become still and unnatural compared to the normal conversation that flowed between you.
Then your car came into view, tucked into the darkest corner of the employee parking section. Almost sensing your discomfort, the hold on you tightened just a fraction.
Your dad would have given you a good piece of his mind, reiterating how parking in lighted areas was one of the most basic rules of safety. Harder than it sounded since there wasn’t a single source of light near the employee spaces.
After what seemed to be an eternity, the two of you finally reached your dinged up, miscolored vehicle. At one point it had been silver, but after many wrecks and accidents it had been left a mishmash of multiples greys and some whites. That was the very reason you’d gotten it so cheap.
Silently, Montgomery released you and went to the closest window. Eyes narrowed in concentration as he shoved his sunglass up for a better look. One at a time, he went to each window, searching for who knew what, until he was satisfied.
His empty hand reached toward you and you couldn’t help but gawk. “You want my keys?”
A small cringe, “Jus’…. Jus’ trust me?”
Well… you made it this far, there was nothing secretive in there anyway. So with a roll of your eyes, you fished out the keys and tossed them to him.
It didn’t take him long to go through your trunk and all the seats in the small car. It was the same procedure with each, running his hands under the seats and then the sides. Just when you thought you’d be able to go home Monty reached for your bag.
“You gotta be kidding me. Just what do you-“
“Trust me,” He stressed again.
You gave a defeated sigh and handed it over. Silently, he did the same as he had done to car and when nothing came up, he returned it to you.
You gazed expectantly at him. “Sooooooo…. “
He rubbed the back of his neck. “We need ta talk in the car.”
Oh, sweet lord. You could feel your temples throbbing. With gritting teeth, you slid into the driver’s seat and waited until he got seated to finally snap.
“WHAT the hell is going on?” You hissed, throwing your bag into the back seat in frustration. “Why did you-“
“Give me a second, damnit woman.” He groaned, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbed his forehead. After a moment collecting himself, he finally spoke “Do ya know who Fazbear is?”
“Freddy?” You guessed, sarcasm dripping.
His eyes narrowed, “No, fuckin’ Freddy isn’ a problem. At most he’s annoyin’.”
“Monty, as much as I love when you talk in circles,” You swirled your finger in the air. “Could you just please tell me what the actual fuck is going on? No guessing.
“It’s Freddy’s grandpa. He owns the plex an’ pretty much us.” Tiredly, the rockstar sunk into the seat. “Ya remember when I thought ya was a spy?”
“Really? You did that?”
The look he gave you made it known that the sass was not appreciated. “Ya really do got a mouth on ya.“
“You like it.”
A low growl rattled his chest, “As I was sayin’. He’s the one who recruits the handlers as spies. I though’ I was the only one, ‘pparently I’m not. We can’ talk about it in the plex... could be bugged-“
“Oh my god, I knew you were paranoid, but fuckin’ bugs? “
“Tha’s what Cappin’ ‘Merica was goin’ on about. That’s what he was sayin’ was dangerous.”
“W-What?”
“Yer bozo “teammates” were hired to spy on their own band member and report back to ole’ Willie to keep us under his thumb. If he knows we’re tryin’ to leave, all it takes is a phone call and we’re stuck again. I tried to leave, tha’s how I ended up fuckin’ nuts.” Montgomery scoffed. “Ole’ fart would lose millions if we walked.”
Limply, you pressed your hot face against the cold material of the steering wheel. On one hand you wanted to call him a liar, kick him out of your car, and go to bed. But on the other, that did explain a lot of quirks of the job. The ridiculous pay and benefits, all the free time available to roam and spend time with the band, the reports that you filled out at the end of the day.
The world would’ve been much easier if only Monty was a paranoid nutjob.
“Cher, ya gotta be straight with me. Have ya met him yet?”
“Yet?” Came your rasped reply. “You mean I’m going to?”
“Prolly, ya have been stubborn hangin’ in there, hun.” Just thinking about it made him release a low laugh. With the hard part finally over, he turned look at you and raised a brow. “Ya lookin’ kinda pale there.”
“Can’t imagine why.”
A warm smirk quirked his lips, but the longer the rockstar stared at you, the more it slipped away in realization. “Cher, you need to quit.”
Your head snapped up so fast it made your vision go blurry. “The fuck Monty!”
“I jus’ told ya, the ole man-“
“I’ll say no.”
“Ya can’ jus’ say fuckin’ no to William Fazbear.” He asserted with a firm shake of his head “He’ll destroy yer life.”
“Ain’t got much of one to “destroy” as you put it.” Came your snorted reply. “Besides, he actually pays pretty well.”
That was apparently the wrong thing to say. “Cher.“
“Oh, don’t cher me. I need this job, at least just a while longer. I’ve almost paid everything off.” Montgomery looked like he wanted to shake or choke you one. You chuckled, patting his arm in reassurance. “I’ll be alright. I promise, I’m a big girl.”
“I know but-“
“Are you scared I’d say yes?”
He didn’t even hesitate, “Fuck no, but-“
“I said I’ll be fine,” It like felt hours you’d been sitting here in your small car going back and forth. Your bed was beginning to call for you. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll tell you if anything fishy goes on, okay?”
“But-“
“When am I not beside you?” You laughed.
Embarrassing as it was, he was practically glued to your side anymore. Red stained his cheeks and then he noticed the dark circles under your eyes and your small yawns.
“Alrigh’. But you gotta tell me if anything at all happens.”
“I will, promise.” You gave a tired smile, and silently held up your pinky.
“Yer cheesy.”
“Oh, hush and just do it, ya cry baby. You had your chance to run me off and messed it up.”
With a final roll of his eyes, he hooked his finger around yours and smirked. “Ya know wha’ this means?”
“We’re friends?”
He choked, “We…uh….sure. We’re….friends. But wha’ I was sayin’ was tha’ this means I’m walkin’ ya out every night.”
Before you could protest, he hopped effortlessly out of the car, slamming the door behind him. You couldn’t help but shake your head as you watched the bassist stroll back inside, turning to wave at you just before he disappeared through the doors.
“Cocky bastard.”
Without another thought, you turned the keys and the old lemon chugged to life.
Unfortunately, you didn’t see the two shiny lights blink on underneath your car or see the spider-like shadow jump onto the concrete before you left the property. Silently, the dark silhouette scurried along the ground, staying out of sight, all the way until it scaled the side of the building and retreated into the ventilation duct.
Chapter 11: Night on the Town: Part 1
Summary:
Scheming friends and girl time.
Notes:
Hello everyone!
I wanted to thank you all again for the support you've given me! I honestly didn't think anyone would like the story when I first published it and am tickled to see everyone's reactions. The next part is almost ready for posting, just needs some tweaking.
Like always, I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Text
Everyone knew Lee thrived and lived on his caffeine. Between Chica’s energy and the overwhelming work schedule, he needed it to even function throughout the day. But of course, every high ended on a crash, which he was currently sleeping off on this beautiful chilly morning. He could’ve slept well into the evening after yesterday’s tiresome events and planned to, until a familiar bang on his front door woke him up.
Only one person in his life had the balls to come to his house before one in the evening.
“Ohh, Leeeeeee~!” Came the sickly-sweet voice. “I got you coffee!!”
At least Chica knew to bring a peace offering. With a defeated sigh, Lee stumbled out of bed and threw on the closest shirt as he made his way to the door.
Over the several years of him and Chica working together, he’d come to expect this. The rockstar being the health-nut, yoga, and Mazercise person she was, rose with the sun every morning, ready to take on the day. The first time she’d come to his house, he’d honestly ignored her. He practically spent every day by her side, what could she possibly want?
But Chica, being Chica, had continued to knock on the door throughout the day. After a few hours, he’d caved and let her in, only for her to collapse on his couch sobbing about her friends. It hadn’t been intentional for her to play peacekeeper amongst the band, but it’d come so naturally she hadn’t even noticed until she snapped. She could never be just Chica, she was Roxanne’s emotional support, Montgomery’s shoulder to lean on, and Freddy’s partner in crime keeping smiles on everyone’s face.
That left little time for her to take care of her own emotional needs. She had just needed someone to talk to, that she didn’t have to worry about burdening with her problems. Lee’s solution for everything was to roll with it and drink caffeine. And it was that very trait of his that had her popping up on his doorstep every Saturday morning.
The handler fingered comb his long locks back and opened the door to be greeted by the traditional sight of Chica smiling with a tray full of coffees. And if he knew Chica, being the wonderful person she was, she probably even asked them to make the coffee extra strong, just the way he liked it.
Slowly, Lee’s lips quirked up into a tired grin, rubbing the remainder of sleep out of his eyes. “C’mon, you know where everything is.”
She didn’t need to be told twice. Smoothly she slipped past him, and practically skipped her way into the kitchen, “Soooo….”
Oh boy. So this wasn’t going to be a heart to heart. “So? What’s goin’ on?”
“How much have you looked into Monty’s handler?”
Ah, so that’s what this was about. Of course, it’d be about Monty. Montgomery had become his charge’s center of concern after Roxanne had her mental breakdown. His constant anger put her on edge and worried her that’d he may take drastic measures to get his “freedom”.
Carefully, Lee picked up one of the hot beverages and took a slow sip. “The usual. Old jobs, family, school.”
A small nod, then she seamlessly slid up onto the counter like she did every time they were in his kitchen. “So, if I asked if there was an old job nearby….”
“There’s a few,” He quirked a brow. “Something specific?”
Meticulously, she began to twirl a lock of her white hair around her finger. “Would you be able to tell me if our girl had broken any hearts or had any secret admirers…..”
“From what I can tell, she pretty much kept to herself. A fling here, maybe another there. Maybe a boyfriend or two. But she’s never left a job because of someone.”
A small pout twisted her lips, “Awh, so no exes we could drop in on?”
Not exactly what he had expected to hear, but from the years of working together he could see where this was going. With a sigh, he fixed the rockstar with an amused look, “How about you just tell me what exactly you’re wanting to do and I’ll see if I can get it done.”
“I want to know if someone had a crush on her, or…or maybe fond?”
Oh no, no, no, no. “What are you up to, mi pollita?”
“I miiiiggghhhtttt want Montgomery to get jealous and realize what’s in front of him.”
“Why?” She refused to meet his gaze and his eyes narrowed. “Chicaaaaaa, how do you think that’s a good idea? Leave them alone.”
“Okay, okay just hear me out,” She pleaded. “I don’t want them to be forced together……but maybe a little nudge? I know you’ve seen it too! He’s been so happy lately.”
Why? Just why? The handler drug a hand down his exhausted features, “Chica, it took them months, literal months to get them to where they actually enjoyed being around each other-“
“I know! I know! But what I was thinking is if we could find somewhere that, I don’t know, an employee was fond of her or maybe an old flame? We could take the night off and just so happen to drop in. See what happens.”
Now he could feel the tension building at the back of his neck. She had good intentions, Lee knew she did, she just wanted everyone to be happy. You just so happened to be what got the hot head to stop being such an ass. He considered the request, quietly swirling the remains of his drink around in the foam cup. It was a solid plan, easy and convenient.
But also, you and Montgomery were not idiots. All it would take is one slip up and one of you were sure to figure out what was going on, and that would be a nasty blow up. A final glance at her fingers nervously twisting in her lap and Lee could feel himself caving.
“On two conditions.” She practically fell off the counter in excitement, grasping his free hand with her’s. “We don’t interfere. Just drop in and what happens, happens. And Roxanne cancels the concert so she can handle gatorman. You baby him too much.”
“Of course!” She squealed, bouncing in excitement. “Roxanne’s on her way to! I thought ahead on that. So, you can do it?!”
“Should be able to find something on her phone. Hacked it not too long ago. Pretty boring texts if I do say so myself.”
This isn’t exactly what he had in mind when he worked to get his IT degree. Years of hard work and hacking on the side to pay the bills, only to amount to hacking into your cellphone. Which reminded him, he really needed to tell you about updating the security on that thing. He practically walked into it and made himself at home.
The small creak of Chica rocking on her heels drew his attention back to her. She was nibbling her lower lip, eyeballing the white door at the end of the hall with bright pink flowers decorating it. He couldn’t help, but smile.
“Go ahead. She’d kill me if she didn’t know you were here.”
An excited squeal and the superstar was out of sight, and almost out of mind, until the sound of girlish giggles filled the air. With a small shake of his head, he gathered his caffeine bribe and headed to the office to get some work done.
Hopefully, this didn’t blow up in their faces.
The smooth strum of the bass echoed throughout the empty Pizzaplex. It was like every other Saturday morning with Montgomery sitting center stage, tweaking and tuning at the set list until his fingers burned. It had to be perfect. Even if they hadn’t had any offers, it was the pride in the matter. They were out representing them, not Fazbear Entertainment's eighties, spandex version of them. He had just finished the song, looking over the notes wondering if maybe he could ask Chica to sing a touch higher on the bridge, when a ding shattered his concentration.
Raw fingers jerked his phone from his jean’s pocket, and a small grin spread on his lips. If anyone asked, he had not gotten a new cellphone just so he could text you privately. No way. That’d be ridiculous.
Honestly, he was surprised you even texted him back. You could’ve been lying, for all he knew, when you shrugged off everything he unloaded onto you like it was nothing. Spies? Espionage? An old fart evil dictator?
Hell, he didn’t want to put up with it and it was his fuckin’ life.
Another ding and Montgomery finally swiped open your message.
I’m up. Something wrong?
Can’ just wanna talk?
Talk my ass.
Carefully, he set his bass back on its stand and plopped onto the rickety chair he had pulled up on the stage. Of course, you’d be suspicious, the times he texted you on your personal phone could be counted on one hand. But it was that small, nagging voice asking if you’d even reply to him…If you’d even want to deal with him…
Now come on cher, don’ ya miss me?
Don’t you need to be practicing, mister superstar?
Montgomery snorted, running his fingers through his mussed red hair to ignore the nervous jitters. Impatiently, he tapped his foot as he typed out a quick reply to you.
Have been, thank ya very much.
Good. Don’t make your fingers bleed this time. I’m low on Band-Aids. See ya tonight.
That’s it? Not what he had been expecting or really wanted. You were a chatter box in real life but sucked at texting. Maybe he could call you? A small smirk curled at Montgomery’s lips at the thought. Friends called each other, he could totally-
But, what the hell would he say?
“Uh, hi, waya doin?” The bassist grumbled under his breath, cringing at just how cliché it sounded. With a groan, he rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the ceiling like an answer would drop into his lap. “Jus’ wanted to talk to ya? …. Gah!... Freakin’ pathetic...”
“At least you finally admit it.”
That sound alone was enough to make him want to flee. He was not in the mood to be dealing with her snarky ass this morning, but of course Roxanne couldn’t have cared less if he wanted her around. She was going to make her presence known. The soft click clack of her boots echoed up the stairs and across the stage, until he could physically feel her glare burning through him.
Montgomery sighed and finally faced the keytarist. “Roxanne, don’ fuckin start. The hell ya want?”
Roxanne grinned wickedly, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head. She looked way too happy. “I was told to come tell you tonight’s gig got cancelled.”
The floor fell out from under him. They got cancelled? But- But the place had requested them?! Or at least, that’s what he thought Chica had told him the other day.
He gaped, “The hell?! They wanted us!”
“They didn’t cancel.” Roxanne snorted, shifting her weight to her other hip, “We did.”
“What?!” Came his roared reply, the chair he had been seated on crashed to the floor.
She didn’t even flinch. “Don’t start your crap, Gator. We rescheduled for next week, Chica’s decided we need a fun night out. No business.”
“We fuckin’ just had-“
“Not everyone likes to work seven days a week like you, moron. Our last break was months ago.” An evil glint sparked in her eye, “Thought you’d remember, since that’s when your little girlfriend spent the night.”
Despite Montgomery’s best efforts, a wave of heat began to creep its way up his neck. He ground his teeth in frustration, only making his bandmate’s grin widen.
A snarl rumbled his chest as he shoved a finger into her face. “She ain’ my fuckin’ girlfriend.”
“Oh puh-lease, Monty.” Came her cackled response, “If she asked you to jump, you’d say how high, cher?”
“She’s not-“
“Save it.” With a satisfied nod of her head, she tipped her glasses back into place and adjusted her jacket. Casually, ignoring the towering man trying to melt her with his glare. “That’s between you and her. We’re going out, I sent you the address while you were drooling on your phone. Oh, and yer girl is comin’. You might get lucky if she’s drunk enough.”
Really, Roxy knew she should feel sorry for the big oaf. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him so…at peace and happy. A small spark of jealousy ignited within her chest at the very thought. She didn’t have someone to make her demons go away, but maybe someday she would, and she hoped she wasn’t as oblivious as Monty when that day came. Even though they fought and bickered like siblings, Roxanne did want Montgomery to be happy. And if she could help make him see the light of day by pissing him off a little as motivation, then she’d do with maniacal glee.
But maybe the drunk comment had been a touch too much.
“Rox, shut yer trap.” He spat, practically shaking with his rage. “Ya don’ know nothin’!”
She quirked a brow. “I don’t, huh? If that’s the case, as her friend, you’d support her then.”
That made him stop short, “Support what?”
Hook, line, and sinker.
“Listen Monty, I’ll lay it out for you. Nice and simple.” She patted his shoulder, making the condescending in her tone extra thick just for him. “If you don’t snatch her up, eventually someone else might. And if you can’t see that she likes you too, you really are pathetic.”
Leaving the bassist floundering like a fish out of water, she straightened her jacket cuffs and did her best runway walk out of the Pizzaplex with her head held high. It was only once she made it outside, did she deflate and rub her forehead. Mission complete. With her nudging and bravado, Monty would surely come if not just to see if you showed up. A deep sigh and she pulled a cigarette out of her pocket, lighting it with a practiced flip of the lighter and greedily gulped down the soothing nicotine.
Chica and her ideas.
The sun had just begun to set, painting the sky beautiful shades of oranges and reds in its wake. Meanwhile, you were scrambling around the small apartment, digging through clean laundry and tearing through your closet in a desperate attempt to find something you hadn’t worn.
If you were honest with yourself, you knew it wasn’t the lack of outfit choices that had your nerves torn up. Not many people find out they were secretly hired to be a spy and that one of the co-worker’s grandfather was secretly an evil dictator holding everyone hostage. If you were halfway sane and not so money hungry, you would’ve quit.
At least that’s the lie you told yourself.
You had just narrowed it down to your typical leather vest and a rather plain blouse, when the buzz of your phone made you jump to attention.
A quick check showed it’d been Chica. Normally on the weekends, she ran the show and would make sure you knew where to go and where to be there. The only exception was if they took the night off, then Elizabeth would notify everyone. But as you scrolled to the new message, you found the complete opposite.
Hi chickadee! Concert for tonight got cancelled, we’re all going out to have some fun! Here’s the address, see you there?
A night out? A night off? Last one of those had been months ago and even then, you knew Montgomery had thrown a fit. Just how did Chica manage this? But a night off did sound so good and it’d feel wonderful just to have fun, especially after yesterday. Not having to worry about the eyes in the sky or bugs listening in.
Okay, see you there.
Just as you set your phone down to find some jeans, another buzz made you stop.
Me and Roxy are outside. Let us in?
That you did not expect.
Did she text you from the freaking parking lot?
Slowly, you lifted a blind from your window and there they were, leaning against their car and Chica’s phone in hand. Even going out for the night, the two oozed rockstar status from their hair to their shoes. It made you cringe. How could you match that? You’d look an orphan in comparison.
But you couldn’t leave them outside and it almost dark.
After telling Chica to come on up, you all but dashed to your closet, trying to find something, anything that’d help you blend in. Of course, there wasn’t much. You’d just started digging through some shirts you saved from your college days when you heard their approaching footsteps.
“Oh, little birdie~! Where you at?!”
“Oh, shit. Chica do you see this?”
You all but jumped out of your skin, whacking your head against a shelf and turning to face your guests. Slowly, Roxanne slipped her glasses off and began her inspection of the small bedroom. But her gaze paused on the sparse closet, almost looking outraged. “Is this all the clothes you got? Damn girl. This is just sad.”
Red flooded your cheeks. “When have I had time to even go out?! I got bills to pay!”
Soon Chica popped her head over Roxanne’s shoulder, then tsked in her motherly manner. “Now Rox, not everyone is a shopaholic like you.”
“Excuse me,” She snarked, striding into the room with all the confidence in the world. “My therapist said it is perfectly healthy to have shopping as an outlet.”
Chica narrowed her gaze. “Pretty sure she said in moderation.”
“Yeah, yeah, same thing. Now scoot, let’s see what we got to work with.” Without even acknowledging you further, the silver haired beauty all but knocked you out of the way and began leafing through the rack. “Maybe with the right makeup….”
“Not that I don’t appreciate the company.” You began reluctantly, eyeing the two women who were bickering over a shirt. “But why are you guys here?”
That got their attention. Both rockstars whipped their gazes toward you and the mischievous grins on their faces made you hesitantly step back.
“I told you, I wanted girl time!” Chica chirped, looping an arm around your shoulders. “We don’t get to do this stuff with the boys. I thought tonight would be a good time.”
You could believe that. After growing up with all brothers, you were aware of how tiring it could be to be constantly surrounded by men. But that didn’t explain one thing.
“How did you even know where I lived?”
“Oh! That!” The guitarist gulped, repeatedly patting your back as though it’d make an answer appear for her. “W-We…um…”
“Employee data base, duh.” Roxanne quipped, examining the jeans she held. With a nod, she held onto them and dove into of college shirts you’d stuffed in the back. “It’s basic information, not hard to get at all.”
“Uh huh, easy as that?”
“Easy as that.” Chica chuckled, “You care if we give you a little makeover? It’d be fun~!”
You didn’t believe her for one second. Chica was a worse liar than even you, but there was one plausible way the could’ve found out. You flushed.
“Monty tell you where I live?”
Chica almost gave herself whiplash and Roxanne cracked her head off the same shelf you had. “Damnit!” She snarled, rubbing the top of her head. “How does he know where you live? Something you need to tell us?”
Oops.
“Oh, um, he brought me home when I got drunk…..”
“Sneaky bastard,” Roxanne sniggered, “Maybe he’s not a moron.”
Before you could question any further, the two had swept you up in a whirl wind of clothes and makeup. Chica had begun the process of making your skin sparkle, while Roxanne carefully styled your hair, even if that meant cutting an inch or two. All the while, they gabbed and bickered back forth, occasionally asking your preference on color or accessories.
Despite your suspicions, you soon found yourself enjoying the primping and girl talk. It was a nice change of pace compared to the normally testosterone soaked conversations you were forced to listen to everyday.
“Earlier, what was said about the employee database,” Roxanne began as she tugged an unruly strand of hair into place. “I was talking about your Fazbear account. It’s got all your information on it, dumb dumb.”
You gave a small nod, eyes becoming heavy the longer the “makeover” went. The Fazbear profiles did have a lot of hidden features that you didn’t bother to look at, maybe you could have even got the boys’ numbers off of it.
“Okaaayyyy and perfect~!”
The two rockstars stood before you, each looking thoroughly satisfied with their work.
“Gotta say girl, you do look nice.” Roxanne noted as she made sure not a stray hair was out of place. “Not as good as me of course, but maybe third or fourth runner up.”
“Don’t listen to her.” Chica scoffed. Gently, she grasped your shoulders and began to guide you back to the bedroom. “Now come on, let’s get you dressed and get going! This is going to be so much fun!”
“Oh yeah, entertaining for sure.”
Lee had just shut the front door, making sure he had his wallet, keys, and phone. A final glance inside reassured that Julia and their older brother Michael were settled right in for the night. He almost made it off the front steps when his phone buzzed.
A heavy sigh and he glanced at the message.
Please hack into her Fazbear profile and add her address!! We made a slipup! Thank yooouuu :)
A small grumble and he turned to unlock the door. Looked like he’d be late for tonight’s fun. If they made it out of this unscathed, Lee became thoroughly convinced that Chica would end up being death of him.
Chapter 12: Night on the Town: Part 2
Summary:
Smiles and dancing.
Notes:
Hello everyone!
I finally finished this chapter. I'm still not happy with it, but I probably won't be after rewriting it four times in one day. Not much plot, just a dash of fluff before I destroy it all.
As always, I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Text
The bar itself was nice on the outside. The rustic wood siding and cow skull hanging from the front entrance contrasted heavily against the establishments they normally frequented. The parking lot was already packed for the night, couples and groups laughing and dancing their way in. Slowly, the smooth notes of the music they played eventually drifted out and into the night air through the cracked doors and windows.
Not bad.
Not his taste, but not bad.
Carefully, he swiped over his messy red hair and straightened his black shirt, before heading in. After presenting his ID at the door, Montgomery began wading through the crowd of patrons for the one person he knew would be here if you weren’t. Right on cue, Freddy threw his hand up into the air, waving frantically with a giant smile on his face. No matter where they went, Freddy was always first on the scene. He’d make sure everything was up and ready to go, or in this case he managed to grab one of the few booths tucked into the corner.
“Monty! Glad you came this time!”
Said bassist tipped his sunglass down, “Uh huh, tha’ the brightest blue ya could find?”
The singer paused, glancing down to the neon blue dress shirt. “Is something wrong with it? Not bright enough?”
“It’s fine, Fredbear.” Colby snorted, casually leaning back into the seat. “He’s bein’ his usual jackass self.”
Monty smirked and slid into the opposite side of the booth. “Don’t ya got Roxy’s ass to be kissin’?”
“Montgomery, there is no need-“
“You lookin’ nice there.” The redhead grinned wickedly with a mischievous spark in his eye. “You dress up for a certain someone?”
“Ya wanna go, Lucky Charms?”
Colby smirked, “Didn’t your girlfriend break up your last fight? Oh, what would she think if she saw you fighting another one of her teammates? Not exactly boyfriend material.”
Monty about launched himself over the table when Freddy jerked Colby out of the way and took his place. “This is a rare opportunity to have fun! We shouldn’t be fighting.” Their fearless reminded them sagely. “The girls should be here soon.”
“What’d they do? Roll around in glitter?” Jackson snorted, gaze locking on an attractive bartender across the room. “We don’t get a lot of nights off. They better hurry up or-“
“Or what Boy Wonder?” A bitch she may be, but oh, she was so good at putting Cappin’ “Merica in his place. Roxanne casually propped her hip against the back of the plush seats, cocking an eyebrow at the suddenly pale blonde. “Ain’t no one stopping you from getting your rocks off. Go shoot your piss poor shot.”
Colby choked on his drink and Freddy ran a tired hand down his face. Discreetly, the bassist gave her a high five, smirking smugly. A quick glance confirmed she was alone, “Um, where’s Chica?”
Roxanne’s smile sharpened. “Since when do you care where Chica is?”
In a series of huffs and curses, Colby shoved Jackson next to Freddy, so Roxanne had a seat next to him. If Montgomery knew any better, he would’ve sworn her face softened at the gesture, but if she had it was gone just a soon as it appeared
“Are you being mean Roxanne?” With a little nudge, Chica hopped into the empty spot next to the keytarist. “Leave them alone, this is-“
“A night out for friends and fun and blah blah blah. Where’s she at? Wasn’t she with you?”
“Oh! She knew a few of the bartenders and stopped to talk. Apparently, she used to work here.”
But being ever the gentlemen he was, Freddy seemed genuinely concerned to hear you being left by yourself. “Maybe I should go help her,” The singer offered genuinely, only to be jerked back down by Jackson. “Jackson, do you need something?”
Roxanne smacked her forehead and Chica cringed, “Um…I think she’s fine.”
“Well, if you insist.”
“I think I found her,” Colby tipped his beer toward the end of the bar. “Looks like she’s still talking.”
Monty about gave himself whiplash trying to find you in the multicolored crowd, but when he did his stomach flipped. The damned butterflies came back with a vengeance as he drank you in.
You were casually leaning against the worn counter, tight jeans, and a rhinestone studded blouse that hung tantalizingly off you shoulder…. It’d probably been the happiest and most carefree he’d ever seen you. You laughed at something one of the bartenders said and the smile you gave was blinding, practically shining like a star…
Montgomery cleared his throat and let his gaze casually drift away.
Chica’s smile widened.
Another laugh bubbled free from your throat as you listened to all the gossip you’d missed. Out of all the places you had worked, this place had been one of your favorites and the only job you hadn’t quit. There was never a boring day between the great coworkers, awesome pay, and even better tips from the regulars. You’d only been here a little over a month but had thought you found your home. Of course, it didn’t last. Business slowed down and cuts had to be made to keep the place afloat. You being the last hire made it inevitable.
“Girl! Put your application back in!” The brunette, Ashely, across you insisted. Her hair tossed in a messy bun and perfect manicured nails clicking against the counter, “We’ve been booming since we added the karaoke stage.”
The male to your right, Justin, snorted. “Drunks sing, charge them to sing and you get rich.”
Another round of laughs and you wiped a stray tear from your eye. “I’m actually here with my new coworkers. New job. Sorry.”
The blonde to your left, Melody, sighed and sunk onto her elbows. Her ponytail fresh and sleek without a strand out of place like always. “Of course. You were one of the best handling angry drunks.”
Oh, the irony in that.
“Brothers do that to you….”
“So, where’s our replacements?” Justin nudged your shoulder, “Gotta size up the competition.”
Justin had been the one to train you when you first started the job. You’d been casual friends, but didn’t keep in touch once you were terminated, like with Melody and Ashley. Not that you didn’t enjoy spending time together. The four of you just never went outside of work to spend time together.
With a roll of your eyes, you turned and pointed to the group. Everyone smiled and waved at you in response, except a certain rockstar sitting on the edge of the booth.
Montgomery looked far from happy, eyebrows furrowed, and hands balled into fists under the table. Slowly, the smile slipped from your lips. You stepped forward to approach him, but came to a halt by a hand on your arm pulling your attention back to the bar behind you.
“Oooo, you work with some hotties girl!” Ashley giggled, batting her lashes at a suddenly very red Freddy. “Can you get me their number? Any of them!”
Melody pinched the bridge of her nose, waving a dismissive hand at the squealing girl. “Ignore her. She’s fresh on the market.”
“Who’s he?” Justin muttered, nodding to the reason of your nervousness. “The one who’s staring at you.”
A dry gulp, “He’s…. He’s a friend.”
Ashely’s smirk widened as she gazed to Melody, then you. “Just a friend? I mean he is looking pretty hard at you, hun. Ain’t he, Justin?”
Justin hummed in response with a quirked brow. “You want the usual?”
“Yeah, sure…. You still remember that?”
“Sure do.” His warm smile made a surprised flush splash across your cheeks as he slid behind the bar with practiced ease. “Go on, hun. I’ll bring it to you, go join your friends, on me.”
You were just about protest when a large, familiar muscular arm reached around you with money in hand. The stiffness in your posture instantly melted as you felt his chest begin to press into your back.
“Nah, it’s on me, bud.” Rumbled Montgomery, sliding the cash across the counter tipping his glasses down just enough to check you over. “Ya good, cher?”
No. No you were not. He wasn’t supposed to look like that while being that close, tousled hair and smoldering red eyes. You were NOT okay. There was no hiding the pink that flushed your cheeks or how you instinctually leaned further into his grasp. Part of you worried that maybe this wouldn’t be okay, but all doubts vanished as he slid his hand on your hip.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
He hadn’t planned on coming up to you at all. There had been no reason to. You were obviously enjoying talking to your old coworkers and seemed perfectly safe from his view. But when Montgomery caught sight of the male bartender’s lingering gaze on you, he’d went rigid. Was that how he looked at you? Eyes bright and smile wide as your ex-coworker seemed to inch toward you bit by bit. It was then, he found himself on his feet making a beeline toward you, ignoring the following taunts of his friends.
Slowly, Monty cracked his jaw, glancing down to see you now leaning comfortably into him. “Ya know ‘im?”
“Yeah, he trained me when I got hired.” You mumbled, tilting your head just enough to see his flushed face. “You want somethin’ to drink?”
“Nah, cher, I’m good…um…do you wanna…” The rockstar licked his lips as he fidgeted with one of your belt loops, “Ya… wanna dance?”
You quirked a brow, “You want to dance with me? Ain’t you the same one who claims I got two left feet?”
“If you won’t I sure as hell will!” Came Ashely’s shout from the other end of the bar, excitedly she waved and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Hiiii, handsome!!!”
Monty chuckled in good humor, gaze drifting back down to you still nestled nicely between him and the bar. The sight made those knots in his stomach tighten. “So…um….”
Maybe you wouldn’t want to dance with him out in public. After all, dancing together would be nothing new, you’d done it plenty of times before. But somehow this felt different than that, like it meant something.
“Yeah,” With that one smile you shattered his train of thought, and his heart began to thump painfully in his chest. “I’d like that.”
Chica bounced in her seat, “Oh my god, look at them!” She whispered in Roxanne’s ear.
Taking a casual sip of her beer, she gazed over the rim of her glasses. Monty all but had you pinned against the counter, and you were practically glowing. Roxanne couldn’t help but smirk as she watched the rockstar turn a dark shade of red deeper the two of you talked.
“Um…. You still want your drink?”
Monty could’ve ripped the little punk’s head off.
Your face flushed as you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, “Oh yeah, thanks Justin.”
Justin nodded once more, glancing you over, then him. “He’s not your boyfriend, is he?”
You choked on your drink and Monty went rigid behind you.
“Um….”
Montgomery knew the answer before you said it. Everyone did. But that didn’t stop the grind of his teeth or how his hands balled into a fist when you finally answered.
“No,” You swallowed. “He’s a friend.”
“Oh,” Justin’s smile widened, obviously relieved. “So… would have the next dance with me then?”
The hesitation was clear on you face as you nibbled on your bottom lip. Silently, you glanced at him, looking for a sign of what he didn’t know, but with a sigh you turned back forward, “Yeah, that’s okay with me.”
The punk’s smile brightened as he gave you a small nod, “Be just like the old times. You still remember the steps?”
“I might,” Came your chuckled reply, “Still got those steel toed boots in the back?”
Justin laughed with a shake of his head. “Of course, hun. Go have fun. I’ll see you.”
Without another word, he went on his merry way, clearly ignoring the fuming bassist left in his wake. Montgomery was so caught up in plotting the man’s murder, he didn’t notice you’d moved until you grabbed his hand.
“Ya comin’ or not?” You grinned.
You couldn’t catch your breath for laughing so hard. Dancing had never been one of those things you enjoyed. The dancing you grew up with had rules and strict steps that had to be followed. If you messed up, suddenly you were a failure.
But dancing with Monty had never been like that. Even though you were sure you crushed his feet a few times, it never stopped him from twirling you until you were dizzy. Steps didn’t exist with him, it was just fun, and wherever the two of you happened to go.
When the song finally came to an end, the grin got wiped clean off his face as he released his hold on your hand. A small tap to your shoulder alerted you that Justin had come to collect his dance, and that singled the rockstar disappearing into the masses.
“Ready?” Justin questioned, raising his arms out for you.
With a hesitant nod, you grabbed hold of his hands and gave him your best smile.
You already missed Monty.
Roxanne reclined in the booth’s seat, taking a long drag off her cigarette. “So, you gunna tell me why he’s dancin’ with you girl?”
“She’s not my girl, Rox.”
“Good lord, don’t you get tired of saying that shit?” She groaned, throwing her head back to stare at the wooden beams above her. “Did he ask?”
His hands fisted under the table, “She said yes.”
“Mhm, did she agree because she wanted to? Or because you didn’t give her a reason to say no?” When no answer came, she stamped out the cigarette into the ash tray in front of her. “Do what you think is right.”
That had him almost jumping from his seat. “The hell kinda pep talk is this?!”
“The kind you get when you’ve screwed up not even an hour into the fuckin’ night,” She hissed as she rose form her seat. “Maybe it’s the fuckin’ labels. Maybe you don’t even like her like that. If that’s the case, then stop flirting with her. Cold turkey.”
“She’s not-“
“Does she look fuckin’ happy, Monty?”
He almost didn’t want to look, but gradually he glanced over his shoulder. Like any time before, he immediately found you in the crowd. You were smiling, but it wasn’t the same grin you were sporting earlier.
Roxanne pinched the bridge of her nose. “God, where is Chica when I need her? This pep talk shit is her thing.”
Montgomery snorted, “Last I saw she was dancin’ with Lee.”
“Of course, you lot are gonna kill me.” She stabbed a finger into his face. “If she makes you happy, be with her. Don’t get hung up on fuckin’ labels. Those are for everyone else.” After another swig of beer, Roxanne hopped out of the booth and began to make her way towards Freddy. “Now, for everyone’s sake, go get your girl and have fun, you moron.”
With one final twirl the song ended, and you finally relaxed enough to breathe properly. Well, you hadn’t remembered all the steps, but you were pretty sure you bruised some toes.
“Your feet okay?” You chuckled awkwardly, glancing at his wincing face.
“Yeah, yeah, hun,” Justin laughed, “I knew what I was getting into. You wanna do-“
“Nex’ dance is taken.” You arched a brow, turning to come face to face with a rather smug looking bassist. towering over you. He raised his eyebrows, “As long as ya wanna.”
Justin chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked between the two of you. “I thought it might." With a pat on the back, he made his way back to the bar. "It was good seein' ya. Have fun."
Once he was out of sight did you turn to gaze at the rockstar. “Next dance is taken, huh?”
“If ya want.” Montgomery shrugged casually. “All of ‘em can be, ya know, if ya wanna.”
You blinked once then twice, making sure you weren’t hallucinating. “Monty, you don’t have to do me favors. If I didn’t want to dance with him, I’d just sit out."
“So, this is wha’ Rox had been spoutin’ about,” He grumbled beneath his breath, then shoved his hands into his pockets. “Cher, wha’ I’m sayin’ is I wanna dance ‘em all with ya. That alrigh’?”
That got your full and undivided attention. Red began to creep up your neck. You had to misheard that, it almost sounded like he implied he wanted to be your only dance partner for the night. "You what?"
Your heart was practically in your throat as Montgomery closed the distance between the two of you. Smoothly his hand found yours, lacing his fingers through your own. A small squeeze and he brushed his other palm long the small of your back.
“I came tonight to spend time wit’ you.” He rumbled his chest, red eyes boring into yours.
Your mouth became too dry. Something subtle had changed in the way he looked at you…
After beat, then another a small smile spread on your lips. Hesitantly, you stepped forward and looped your arms around his neck. “Well superstar, you better watch your toes.”
The rockstar chuckled as he let his embrace settle around your waist. “Bring it on, cher.”
Chapter 13: Wake Up (Revised)
Summary:
Hello everyone!
I was rereading this chapter for the millionth time and I really wasn't happy with it. So, I've made additions and rewrote a lot of the content. The bones are still the same, I've just tweaked the delivery. I'm much happier with it.
PS sorry for the reposting, I changed enough of it I felt it needed reposted.
Hope you enjoy as always!
Notes:
Dreams and nightmares.
Chapter Text
The night’s air bit comfortably into his too hot skin as he followed you outside the bar. Montgomery would be lying if he said he wasn’t staring, even though he definitely was not staring at you…..or the flush on your cheeks and the strands of hair sticking to your skin…
“You okay?”
He blinked, then shook his head. “Yea’, yeah, I’m good.”
You stretched your arms above your head, popping your back with a small smile. “This is the most fun, I’ve had in a while.”
“‘Cause yer hangin’ with me cher.”
You didn’t bother hiding your eye roll, “It’s a miracle you can fit that head of yours through a doorway.”
He had told you that he came just for you and that wasn’t a lie, he’d never seen you outside of the Pizzaplex. You were still you, but it was if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders as you danced and laughed with him. A glance over his shoulder confirmed the rest of the crew was far from being done for the night. Chica was talking Lee’s ear off, Colby had fallen asleep in the booth and began drooling on Jackson’s arm, and Freddy and Roxanne were sitting at the bar trying to out drink each other.
“My favorite color is red.” Montgomery’s attention shifted back to you. You were sitting on the curb, bare feet stretched out in front of you as you stared up at the starry night sky.
“Like Elmo?”
You snorted, turning to give him a smirk. “No, not like fuckin’ Elmo.”
The rockstar chuckled in response and lowered himself onto the curb next to you. “What else ya like?”
“Daisies,” You mumbled as you propped your chin up on your knee. Slowly you leaned against his side, “And maybe you.”
Monty choked. He could not have heard you right. “Cher, how much did ya drink?”
“Not enough apparently,” Came your dry chuckle.
There were two ways this could workout. Either he could either try to play it off as if you never said anything at all or do something stupid. After another beat of silence went by the blush on your cheeks intensified and you began to pull away, discomfort beginning to overshadow your moment of confidence.
“I….”
Words had never been his strong suit and he blamed that very fact for the reason why he was gaping at you like a fish. He could see you become rigid the longer the two of you sat in silence. With a deep breath, he licked his lips. He could end all of this nonsense now, tell you he didn’t feel that way, and everything could go back to when it was simple. He was Montgomery freakin' Gator. He didn't get tongue tied, especially over a bitch of a coworker. But, the longer he stared at you, the lower his gaze began to drift until it was fixated firmly on your lips.
Monty had always been confident in what he wanted. So, why hesitate now?
“Cher?”
“Hmm?”
He licked his lips and swallowed, “Can I kiss ya?”
The bassist could practically feel the sweat running down his back as he flexed his fingers at his side. The five seconds you stared at him seemed like an eternity. Slowly but surely, a small smile spread on your lips.
“Mhm.”
He didn’t need to be told twice as he leaned in to close the distance between the two of you……..
And moment was when Montgomery fell out of the bed and landed flat on his face. It took a moment to reorient himself between what he thought had been reality and the dark abyss of his bedroom. With a shaky breath, the rockstar ran his hand through his mussed red hair and swallowed.
Saturday had been a bad idea. Plain and simple.
He had wanted to kiss you. That he couldn't play off no matter how he looked at it. The two of you were leaning against one another, talking and laughing on the curb outside the bar, and he wanted to kiss you. Except, unlike his dream, he hadn't had the balls to act on what he wanted. No, instead he offered to take you home. He didn’t walk you up the stairs or even walk you to your door. All he could see happening was you turning him down, despite how flirtatious you'd been that night or how he'd catch you looking at him-
The sharp beep of his cell phone had the rockstar jumping from his daze and checking the time.
You'd be there soon. “Damn it.”
Monty only hoped he'd be able to look you in the face today.
When Elizabeth got hired, the Pizzaplex was still bright and shiny with newness. Although many years ago, she could remember it like yesterday. Fazbear had personally managed the building back then and hired her with little to no references. For her, it’d been a dream come true. She had no degree and even less confidence in herself.
She could remember being starstruck when she’d first met the band, after following them online for many years, and being so excited to start. The relationship she formed with Montgomery had been fast and steady in the beginning. Like her big brother, he’d joke with her and tried to make her as comfortable possible as she tailed him.
That all changed with one phone call from the head honcho.
After months of success, William Fazbear had gotten wind of Montgomery submitting the band’s album to a recording company and responded with nothing short of fury. At first, she didn’t think anything of it when he asked her to start taking notes throughout the day. Elizabeth figured it’d be to help keep track of fan interactions, any incidents that happened, and so on. Of course, it didn’t stay innocent. Notes turned into detailed timelines, then turned it was debriefing phone calls, until she was borderline stalking the bassist. It was then she put her foot down and said enough was enough.
But being a young, single mom, Fazbear knew exactly where to hit her to make her buckle.
She had opened her locker one day, only to find a photo of her son at school with a single word written across it in sharpie.
Choose.
That one word was all it took. She didn't put up a fight or question him any longer. Swiftly, she rose through the ranks, until she managed the Pizzaplex with its state of the art security system and handlers documenting every small detail. With eyes and ears everywhere, eventually William Fazbear stood back from the business and allowed her to run it independently on site. After all, what danger was she? He knew she wouldn't so much as step a toe out of line with her child on the line. But he underestimated one thing, the anger of a mother when their child is threatened.
After a few years of keeping the ship nice and steady, Elizabeth decided it was time to begin making some changes. It all happened at a glacier's pace so that it wouldn't raise suspicion. First, she gradually weeded out the handlers that accepted Fazbear's deal. With cameras everywhere, it didn't take too much effort to find them slipping up at some point. What took effort was finding their replacements, and even when she did, there was still the occasional handler who would jump at the chance to make more money.
But, her luck changed when she found Jackson, a hard-working man who had glowing reviews all throughout the Pizzaplex and wanted to climb through the ranks honestly. After him, it seemed everyone else fell into place. Colby shuffled through the door needing a high paying job, but something he could juggle while he studied for the Bar. Then came Lee, who she found buried in IT department hacking into some private accounts associated with the Plex.
Then there was you. A girl down on her luck who just wanted a job. Elizabeth, although desperate to fill the position before the old bastard could, had been hesitant to give you the job. You reminded her of herself, money hungry, but she’d seen that small spark of stubbornness in you and took a chance.
And that chance is how she got in this situation, shuffling into work Monday morning as she realized she may have made a mistake. Elizabeth spent the weekend fretting about how to delay the inevitable with no results so far. Hair frazzled and dark circles tattooed beneath her eyes, she locked her vehicle and began to go toward the entrance, only to freeze.
Where the trusty old sign had been posted at the end of the parking lot, was now standing an LED advertising billboard. It announced a new attraction coming soon with its flashing lights and neon colors, then faded into a pizza ad.
Elizabeth all but ran inside to be greeted by the sight of a construction crew already hard at work, wooden panels dividing the site off from the rest of the atrium, and tarps advertising patrons to stay away.
Her heart jumped into her throat and palms began to sweat.
New construction was always overseen by the owner.
But-But he had said a week-
“Ah, Elizabeth. There you are.” All color drained from her face as she whipped around to face her boss. The nightmare himself, William Fazbear, gave her a patronizing smile, “Why don’t we take this to your office? We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”
Monday always seemed like the hardest day of the week to climb out of bed. It didn’t help any that you didn’t set your alarm clock like you should have and was getting little to no sleep.
You were used to the nightmares, those were a constant in your life anymore. But, what was new was the night terrors that had started not. Every night without fail, you'd wake up screaming bloody murder, clutching your aching chest, and would then begin crying hysterically. What caused this shift, you hadn't figured out yet, but all you knew was trying to sleep was like pulling teeth anymore.
But that had been the furthest thing from your mind that morning as you all but run through the front door to clock in on time. You skid through Rockstar Row, one heel almost falling off and your hair all but ruined from your haste as you swiped your bade. Finally, you could relax. A quick glance to a certain bassist's room showed light filtering through the cracked curtains and the occasional thump coming from inside.
At least you didn't have to kick him out of bed this morning. After a swipe over your clothing and readjustment of your hair, you began the trek to his bedroom door, ready for the two of you to start the day when you froze at the sound of someone calling your name.
Elizabeth was a sickly shade of pale, nervously biting her lip. "I need you to come to my office."
Just as you were about to respond, Montgomery’s door slid open and the bassist strode out with his usual confidence. But when he caught sight of the blonde, all swagger and smiles melted away. "Lizzie?"
Elizabeth cleared her throat once more, pointedly ignoring his burning gaze. “You need to come to my office, Mr. Fazbear is here to see you."
A growl rumbled his chest as he fixed his ex-handler with a venomous glare. “The hell is goin’ on?!"
“You know damn well what’s going on.” She hissed in return, hands shaking at her sides. "We've been through this enough."
“She ain’t goin’.”
Elizabeth pinched the bridge of her nose. “Monty-“
“Don’t Monty me, Lizzie,” He snarled, now stepping in front of you. “She ain’t-“
Your warm hand laying on his forearm stopped him cold.
A small, rueful smile quirked your lips. “It’s fine, Monty.”
That was hardly comforting, judging by the rockstar’s look. “But-“
“No buts. I’ll be okay.”
Before he could make a move to stop you, you'd slid past him and made it to Elizabeth's side. They all knew this was going to happen, expected it even, but nothing prepared you for the saddened glance Elizabeth gave you and how it curdled your stomach.
The walk to the office had been tense and suffocating as you strode through the clinically sterile business offices. A chill ran down your spine at the overwhelming feeling of eyes following you. Eventually, after what seemed to be a decade, the two of you made it to her office and stepped inside.
It was just how you remembered it from all those months ago. Plush office chair, bright neon tiles, coffee rings decorating the desk's surface. Except this time, your gaze froze on the lanky man in a crisp suit now sitting behind the desk. His lips quirked up in what you could only describe as an attempt to smile, gray-blond wispy hair wild as he steepled his fingers in front of him.
“Thank you for joining me.” His tone just as icy as the room you stood in. With a flourish, he gestured to one of the chairs in front of him. “I know you must be busy with your duties, but I like to personally meet all new members of the team.”
You forced a small smile, “It’s a pleasure.”
“Now, down to business. I’ve noticed that you and Montgomery seem quite close.” That was the moment his smile turned poisonous. “You have lasted longer than any other handler before, even Elizabeth. What is your secret?”
You tried to muffle the surprise and suppressed the urge to look at your boss. She'd been Monty's handler? Why hadn't he said anything-
Fazbear cleared his throat, jolting your attention back to him.
“We got to know one another.”
William did not look convinced. “Just like that?” He tilted his head to the side, glancing over your stiff posture. “I’ll admit, I’ve not seen a handler spend so much extra time with their band member after hours.”
The blood in your veins froze as he turned one of the computers in front of him around. As plain as day on the bright screen was clips of you and Montgomery. Everything between the two of you eating pizza on stage, to running and laughing through Fazerblast, to even the karaoke/dance sessions you'd have. Months and months of images flashed across the screen, making your stomach knot. You knew there were cameras, everyone did. But, you didn't expect to see them so close to the two of you. Based on the angles it became obvious these cameras had served no other purpose, but to watch you.
His grin sharpened, “I’ve come to offer you a promotion of sorts. Nothing too outrageous or demanding. I want you to report to me personally, from now on-“
“She can’t.” All eyes fell on the shaking band manager seated beside you. Almost, hesitantly, Elizabeth straightened her spine and cleared her throat. “She’s resigned as Montgomery’s handler.”
You…..what? When? You never agreed to that-
“That so.”
A firm nod and your boss's gaze hardened. “She applied for the assistant’s position in the clinic and they are overjoyed with the news of having help.” William grit his teeth and Elizabeth allowed her lips to quirk up into a modest smile. “I’ll begin searching for a replacement-“
“There will be no need,” He asserted as he straightened his tie and smoothed his hair. The temperature in the room seemed to drop. “Given the lack of development since they’ve been initiated, I’ve decided it’d be best to cut down funds by doing away with handlers all together. Be sure to find the remainder of them positions within the Pizzaplex.”
“Very well, mister Fazbear. Will that be all?”
“For her,” He conceded, tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes. “Go ahead and let Montgomery and the others in, since they so graciously waited outside the door.”
Right on cue, you heard a thump and the sound of Roxanne cursing. Of course, they’d be eavesdropping, what else would you expect from them? Elizabeth rubbed her forehead with an exhausted sigh as she opened the door to reveal the band, trying and failing from looking suspicious.
William smirked, “Ah, my wonderful grandson. Come in, we all have a lot to talk about.” You rose from your seat to depart the room, only to be halted by a raise of the owner’s hand. “No need to leave so soon, take a seat.”
That was the last thing you wanted to do. You wanted to be far, far away from the dead stare in that man's eyes and the knowing looks he gave you. With a small nod, you reluctantly lowered yourself back down, and forced your gaze forward. If you looked at them, you'd break. You'd want nothing more then to drag all of them from the room.
“So, Montgomery, I assume you’re very disappointed to have lost another handler.”
You squeezed your eyes shut as you heard his sharp intake of breath. “I-I have?”
“Oh yes, it seems your handler has voluntarily taken a pay cut to work in the clinic.”
You fisted your hand in your skirt. Montgomery tried not to show a reaction, but had been so blindsided by the comment he couldn’t stop himself from looking at you. The complete and utter shock on his face had not gone unnoticed.
“Elizabeth just made me aware of the change today. Must have been a sudden decision.” William chuckled, reclining in his seat, “Although sudden, you could say this has been inspirational for me. Starting today there will no longer be any handlers. The current staff shall be offered other jobs within the Pizzaplex, of course. I trust the four of you have adjusted well enough to manage your own time.”
No one uttered a word, the silence practically rung in your ears.
“Good. Now about your own contracts. Weekends will no longer be free for the four of you to tour on your own. With demand skyrocketing and more adults and teenagers coming in, I’ve decided your weekends would be best spent here. The Pizzaplex shall begin opening on the weekends, later in the evening for the older population.”
Montgomery growled, ready to give him a piece of his mind, when Freddy’s hand pulled him back. “Grandfather, the deal was-“
“Deals change, Freddy.” William glared, “This is best for the business-“
“But sucks for us,” Montgomery snarled, shrugging Freddy’s hand off his shoulder. “You-“
“This is final. It’s not up for negotiation. If you feel this exceeds your duties, feel free to find employment elsewhere, Montgomery. The band contract has never had an allotted time any of you must stay here.” A devilish smile curled on his lips. “But don’t forget contracts are binding to Fazbear employees. They may change positions within the Pizzaplex, but if they leave before the contract is up then all earnings will be forfeited, and they will owe the company every cent back.”
The ground dropped beneath your feet. Damnit, you didn’t even read the damn thing you’d been so eager to get that paycheck. Why were you so stupid? You knew better. But, the damage was already done.
With a smug, satisfied grin, Mr. William Fazbear rose from his seat. “I’ll be back in a month’s time to check on the progress of our new attraction and see how the new changes are taking effect.”
Without another word, he breezed past the fuming band and strutted out the door with all the confidence in the world, leaving nothing but ice in his wake. No one moved as they listened to the click of his polished shoes fade. Only after several beats of stagnant silence, did Elizabeth feel it was safe enough to stand. Quietly, she closed the door to her office with a click, then sagged against the sturdy surface. You dropped your head into your hands, trying to rub the headache forming away, when Monty decided to shatter your thoughts.
“What’s goin’ on?” Monty roared. You whipped your head up to find him now standing over you. That look he gave you ...“Cher, why didn’t ya say anythin'? I thought-"
“Calm down,” Elizabeth sighed, dropping her head back. “It was all my hair brained idea. She didn’t know. Hell, should’ve just let her sign her life away.“
“The hell she would!” He seethed. “She needs to not come back-“
“SHE is sitting right here.” You exhaled, exhaustion dripping off of you. “Monty, I told you. I can’t quit.“
His hands were on your arms before you could react, hauling you up to face him. “That was before! That was when ya’d be with me! Like fuckin’ hell are ya gonna stay here now!”
“I signed a one-year contract.”
The bassist’s mouth clicked shut as his grasp softened. “Ya…ya signed a-“
Elizabeth groaned, “I offered her a one-year contract in exchange for complete repayment of her student loans. She’s only half-way through. If she quits, then she’ll have to repay all of it.” With a heavy sigh, she met the bassist’s hot glare head on. “I wouldn’t have offered it if I’d known he’d do this. I was desperate to fill the slot before he could.”
“See! No problem then,” Freddy voiced with a small smile spreading on his lips. “Just give the money back-“
“You think I still have it?!” You laughed incredulously. “I pay bills and had my family to pay back-“
“Maybe they could give it back?”
“Hell, no! I am not asking them for that money back. It took me this long to even pay them.”
A rough hand on your chin turned your attention back to the rockstar in front of you. “Ya can’t stay here. I’ll pay-“
“You will not! I signed the contract without looking at the damned fine print, I’ll finish the fuckin’ thing. What’s he going to do to me? Kill me?”
Silence fell over the group, your cheeks searing hot as you felt your blood pressure skyrocket and Montgomery’s stare practically burning through you.
“You know as well as we do that she’ll be fine as long as you comply.” Roxanne’s snort shattered the tense atmosphere. Slowly, she shifted her weight to the other hip and sighed. “We gotta be smart about this.”
With a scowl, the bassist released you, stomping to tower over his bandmate. “Oh an’ what’s tha’? Roll over?!”
“No,” She snarled, “Not doing anything stupid. You think you’re the only one who would care if he fucked with their handler, ya moron?!”
Finally, Freddy slipped between the two. Hands steadying his two quaking friends “We’ll be careful." He reassured with a pat. "We’ve been working up to this. All we got to do is wait out their contracts and then, we can leave.”
Chica looked like she was going to cry and Roxanne looked like she could chew through metal in her fury.
"Why stay here?" You uttered finally, gaining the room's attention. "What do you guys think will happen to us if you leave?"
No one gave you an answer, but the somber silence spoke volumes.
"Because," Chica sniffled, wiping a tear from her cheek. "You're our friends and if we leave.....he'll do something horrible... because he knows we care..."
Knots began to twist your insides as Freddy gave you a small smile, "My grandfather is a horrible man, but a smart man. He knows how to keep what he wants inside the law and knows how to make someone's life a living hell." Before you could question further, he turned his attention to Elizabeth. “How long do they all have?”
“Around seven months. I renewed their contracts a month after she hired.”
The singer nodded. “Okay, seven months. We’ve done this for years. We can do it for seven months and we can all leave.”
But why did you have the feeling it wouldn’t be that easy?
Chapter 14: Do You?
Summary:
Feelings.
Notes:
Hello everyone!
Sorry for the long delay. I struggled as to what should happen this chapter and decided our babies needed some time to get some things out in the open. It took me forever to get this to where I liked it and tried my best to have them deal with the emotions realistically.
I hope you all enjoy as always and I'll see you next time!
Chapter Text
“Ain’ too late to run.”
A small smirk graced your lips, “I believe we’ve went over this.”
Montgomery grumbled under his breath, focusing on the main entrance as he shifted his hold on the box in his hands. Although your locker hadn’t had much in it, just a few odds and ends, the stubborn bassist had insisted on carrying it and walking you to your new job site.
The clinic itself was located on the other end of the building, conveniently tucked into the wall next to the gift shop on the first floor. It had a bright white sign with neon red letters above a set of glass double doors that had the cartoon version of Freddy with a stethoscope around his neck. A few children and parents already occupied the chairs lining the walls, waiting for their turn to be seen.
It was bittersweet moment.
As temporary as being Montgomery’s handler was supposed to be, you hadn’t even begun to look for another job for when your contract ended. Through the late-night karaoke sessions, the laughs, and long talks, you’d stopped counting down the days and started looking forward to them. Maybe it would be for the best to put some distance between the two of you. The meeting with Fazbear made one thing clear, that you were nothing but leverage against Montgomery and that left a sour taste in your mouth.
With a heavy sigh, you checked your watch and decided it was time to bite the bullet. Like it or not this was your new job, and you didn’t want to make a bad first impression.
“Remember with the birthday party schedules to pay attention to-“
“Yeah, yeah,” Monty groaned. “I know. Watch party times and party rooms. Bring extra strings. Show up early. Blah, blah, blah. Yer actin’ like I don’ know what Imma doin’.”
“Alright, alright, stay out of trouble.” His hot glare only made your smile widen as you reached to grab the box from him. “You’re going to be late, mister I can manage myself.”
Calloused hands clamped over yours, holding them in place as he peered down at you over the rim of his sunglasses. “Meet ya here at quittin’ time? It’s the same time, righ’?”
Your throat dried up. Had he been that close the whole time? “Uh….Yeah?”
His red gaze burned into yours, a cocky smile spreading across his lips. “I’m still walkin’ ya out, cher.”
With the whole evil dictator subtly threatening everyone and everything being said and done, you’d completely forgot you’d agreed to that. “You don’t have to-“
“What? Ya think I’m gonna bite ya?”
And just like that you were blushing like an idiot. That predatory look on his face had made it cross your mind.
Reluctantly, you had to admit to yourself liked flirting with him. Loved every single minute of it. But now was not the time. Not with everything going on. You couldn’t-
Monty’s grin turned positively devilish, “Yer gettin’ awful red, cher.” Smoothly, he tucked a stray hair behind your ear. The sight of red spreading up your neck only made his smile widen, “Somethin’ the matter?”
The bastard was enjoying this way too much.
“OKAY. Time to go!” You snatched the box from him, taking a step back. “You’re going to be late-“
“Wha’s the rush, darlin’?”
“Montgomery Gator, get your ass in gear! Those kids are waiting.”
“Ya didn’ seem ta mind Saturday-“
“Monty!”
A low laugh rattled his chest. “I’m just flirtin’ with ya a lil, cher.”
“Friends don’t flirt.”
It was a flimsy defense that you pulled out of your ass and he knew it. You were absolutely drowning, and he was loving it. Those stupid knots in your stomach were starting to make you sick, when the feeling of his warm breath wafting across your cheeks brought you back to reality. He was nose to nose with you and that confident smile never budged.
“Ya were a shitty friend anyway. I’ll see ya this evenin’.”
Before you could even respond, he’d already began to make his way to Gator Golf, strolling oh so casually away as if he didn’t just destroyed the already fragile boundaries of your relationship.
And that was where Montgomery’s good mood stopped.
The day turned into an absolute shit show after he dropped you off and there seemed to be no end in sight.
Mondays normally were busy, but this was just insane. Kids seemed to be climbing out of the walls and parents yelling about every little thing. To top it off, not a one out of the four of them had a single fucking clue how to read those damn party schedules. Concerts, meet and greets, and time with the kids was practically programmed into them at this point, but those damn parties knocked them all off quilter. The handlers had always kept track of those.
Vaguely, Monty remembered you trying to tell him something about the schedules this morning and wanted to ram his head into a wall for not letting you speak. No, he’d been too busy trying to assert how he felt about you.
You were right, friends didn’t flirt with each other. After Saturday and his dream last night, he had no choice but to reevaluate what the hell he felt. With you off in a new department, who knew who you’d come across and what’d they do. Bastards could come in right under his nose before he got the balls to do anything.
“I WANTED CHICA!!!”
The kid’s ear-piercing shriek echoed as he all but ran from the party room and slammed the door behind him. Wrong party. It was the third time today he’d done that, not to mention the ones he hadn’t even been there for.
With a scowl, he tipped his glasses up and jerked the now wadded up piece of paper out of his pocket. How the hell had you deciphered this mess every day? The party room numbers were wrong for starters, not to mention the lack of band member assignments or a start time.
He had almost gone a whole year without a handler, how had he made it to parties then?
Oh…..
Boy Wonder and the Wonderettes.
They’d tell him, then disappear until another party came up.
“YOU’RE NOT FREDDY!!!!”
The door next to him ricocheted off the wall and Roxanne emerged, her usually perfectly coifed hair resembled a nest with chunks of cake and icing smeared on her cheek. A scowl marred her lips as she rubbed her face clean with the back of her arm, “Damn brats-“
“I’m going to call corporate!” Came the outraged cry of the screaming child’s mother.
“Go ahead!! Tell him I said to fuck off while you’re at it!” A scandalized gasp and the rockstar kicked the door shut. “Like I said, damn brats!”
“Traumatize ‘nother one, Rox?”
Her gaze narrowed into dangerous slits. “Don’t start your shit, Gator. Today ain’t the day.”
“Nice hair.”
Roxanne knew how to sucker punch with the best of them, something he was reminded of after she cracked him in the ribs. Satisfied, she began picking at her appearance. “Have you heard from her?”
“Who?”
“Who do you damn think Monty?” She snarled, jerking her cellphone out of her pocket. “Can’t get Colby to fuckin’ take the time of day to tell me how to read this thing.”
Monty didn’t bother hiding the eyeroll, “Ya could just run over there.”
“To the daycare? Hell no? That’s a ruined outfit waiting to happen. I already have to redo my hair and that’s at minimum a two-hour process.”
“Forgive me, yer majesty, I wasn’ aware.”
“Why don’t you just prance right on over to the clinic and ask your girl?”
Montgomery didn’t need to look at her to know she was smirking. He could hear the damn attitude a mile away.
“Rox, mind yer fuckin’ business.”
Cue a red-faced parent storming out of a nearby room, practically foaming at the mouth as they jabbed their finger in their direction. “I will report you both! There are children-”
“Fuck off!” Both rockstars snarled.
Thankfully, the joint combination of their murderous looks was enough to send the adult scurrying back into the room and out of sight.
With a heavy sigh, Monty rubbed the back of his neck. As much as he hated to admit it, Roxanne was right. They were making it nowhere on their own and the three stooges were in the depths of hell with the daycare twins.
Plus, he’d get to see you and try to make you squirm again.
Roxanne smirked as she watched the Montgomery’s face heat up. With a shake of her head, she began the trek to the stairs to head back to Rockstar Row. “Tell her I said hi.”
Elizabeth’s phone had not stopped ringing and she could not bring herself to care. After the first dozen calls from parents demanding a refund or discount, and some just to cuss her out, she’d gave up on being peacekeeper. Instead, she’d taken to forwarding all her calls of the day to Williams’ number.
Damn the consequences. He made this mess. He could hear all about it.
The clinic had looked so deceiving from the outside looking in with the cheerful colors splashed on the walls. All to hide the chaotic mess lurking underneath its surface.
As you soon found out, the clinic hadn’t been set up to handle the swarms of children that showed up daily with one doctor, one nurse, and one Xray technician. It was supposed to be a glorified band-aid station and somehow had become an urgent care. Everything and anything came through those doors from cuts to limbs sticking out at awkward angles.
Your job was to be the nurse’s extra set of hands and damn did she need it. There hadn’t been a chance for you to have new job jitters. Eileen had caught sight of you and all but hauled you inside, throwing a set of scrubs and her extra shoes at you.
Eileen had been a registered nurse for a long thirty years and had decided to come to the Pizzaplex to retire with ease. Least that had been the plan, but as you helped her splint a two-year old’s broke wrist, call an ambulance to transport the patient to the hospital for surgery, and toss a basin under a vomiting child’s head, you realized both of you may have made a mistake.
The day had already been a mess. In between train wrecks, Eileen taught you everything she could. Between taking vital signs, cleaning rooms, and how to best bandage a squirmy child’s injuries. By the time lunch rolled around, you collapsed onto floor and leaned against the closest wall.
“You’re doing good, sugar. Especially for your first day.” Eileen’s reassured with a comforting pat the shoulder as she took the lobby chair next to you. “Sorry for the rough start.”
“N-No problem,” You swallowed. “Is it always like this?”
“Every damn day,” The older woman ruefully chuckled, smoothing her frazzled gray hair back into a new bun, “Could’ve cried when they told me I was finally getting some help. Don’t get me wrong, I love the kids and helping them, but sheewww I can’t roll like I used to. You’re quick on your feet and that helps a lot.”
A sharp knock brought your attention to the locked front door, and you were met with the sight of a cocky bassist. Monty pushed his sunglasses up onto his head, giving you a small wave with a smile that definitely should not have made you blush.
But good lord it did, and it hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“Now that’s something I don’t see every day. The band don’t usually come over here,” Eileen arched a brow, glancing between the two of you, then a wide, knowing smirk spread on her lips. “Now I know where I’ve seen you! You were always with him at the concerts.”
“Y-Yeah, that’d be me,” You chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck. “Needed a new gig. Old one got deleted.”
Solemnly, the nurse nodded, then pushed herself to her feet with a symphony of pops. “Sounds like Fazbear. Go on and spend some time with your boyfriend, just be back in an hour, sugar.”
“He’s not my-“
The protest died on your lips as she vanished around the corner.
Impatiently, the rockstar rocked on his heels, watching as you hauled yourself to your feet with a cringe. Despite your obvious fatigue, you managed to give him one of those damned smiles that had his damned heart jump into his throat.
What had he come over here for again?
“Your day been okay?”
Montgomery blinked, then swallowed dryly, “Uh…yea’….been alrigh’.” He quickly took in the tangled hair and new uniform, then paused on the suspicious looking stain on your thigh. “Looks like hell of a lot better than yers.”
You followed his gaze and cringed. “Don’t ask.”
“Ya know, ya could always quit-“
You heaved an exhausted sigh. “Monty-“
“Don’t Monty me, cher,” He grumbled, picking a stray band-aid off your shoulder. “Ya ain’ got to do this. I told ya-“
With a small glare, you brushed his hand away. “It’s just new. I have to get used to it. I’ve told you why I can’t-”
“And I told ya why ya can-”
“I am not taking your money,” You snarled.
His gaze narrowed as he ground his teeth. “It’s not takin’ if I’m givin’ it to ya-“
“The answer is no.” You reasserted, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Can we please not talk about this again, today? This morning was enough.”
His immediate reaction was to argue more, insist that you needed to leave. Make that angry flush he loved warm your skin and that fire in your eyes spark to life as you fought him. But it died on his lips as you practically sagged against the wall outside the entrance. You looked exhausted.
Monty huffed and leaned next to you, “Fine.”
The smile you gave him made those damned butterflies act up again. “So, what do I owe the honor of this visit? Miss me that much already?”
Damn it.
“Someone’s gettin’ awful cocky,” Crinkled up paper in his pocket long forgotten as turned to brace his arms on either side of your head. “Maybe I did, cher.”
Your smile slipped away as his nose brushed against yours. His mouth felt like cotton, watching as your gaze slipped to his lips.
You swallowed, dryly. “Maybe I missed you too.”
Just as he began to inch closer, the sound of your stomach growling made both of you freeze. With an exaggerated grimace, you tilted your head up and refused to look at him.
“Have ya eaten?” Judging by your guilty expression and the darkening of your cheeks, you hadn’t. “Cher-“
“Oh, don’t cher me.” You grumbled under your breath. “I didn’t have time earlier.”
With a heavy sigh, the bassist dropped his arms. “Well, ya got time now, c’mon.”
Montgomery didn’t bother to wait for your response as he turned on his heel and began the trek to the stairs. After beat, he felt your hand slip into his as you all but jerked him to follow. With a roll of his eyes and a smile, he laced his fingers through yours and happily let you drag him along.
“How do ya read these damned schedules?!”
You blinked, sandwich halfway to your mouth. “Uh….little more specific.”
Monty dragged a hand down his face, then tossed a wadded up piece of paper across the table the two of you were seated at. He ground his teeth, “This fuckin’ one!”
With a roll of your eyes, you ignored the roar of your stomach to unravel the worn paper. On its surface was none other than the party schedule. You couldn’t help the cocky smirk that spread on your lips.
“Ohhh, mister I can handle this myself, fuck off-“
“Alrigh’, alrigh’, ya were righ’, I was wrong-“
“Can I record this?”
“Damnit woman! Help me!”
Another sigh and you tore a chunk out of the sandwich, almost groaning in relief. Note to self, pack snacks for tomorrow. “What’s the problem?”
Montgomery’s look of outrage made you pause. “What’s the-How the hell did ya read this mess, the room numbers are wrong, there’s no times-“
“Well, that’s because the rooms are numbered wrong. You can’t look at the number outside the door, you literally just count the number of doors from the end of the hall.”
“How the fuck do you misnumber rooms?!”
Really it wasn’t funny, but you couldn’t stop the small snickers that escaped you. “Because kids are here. They rearranged the numbers, they’re magnetic.”
Steam practically shot out his nose. “Why the hell-“
“I don’t know,” You shrugged, “Didn’t get paid enough to keep track of you and room numbers. You were handful enough.”
Ignoring his outraged snarl, you glanced at your watch. Lunch was almost up, so you inhaled the rest of your sandwich and started gathering up your things.
“Wha’ about the assignments?”
“Color coded. You’re green, Roxanne’s red, Freddy’s blue, and Chica’s pink.”
“Times?”
“Those are at the top, the part you tore off.” With a chuckle, you propped your hip against the table, arching a brow. “You’d know that if you hadn’t blown me off this morning.”
Now you really wish you had your camera out. Wasn’t often you’d seen the rough and tough rockstar blush that hard, it was kind of adorable. Your grin only widened at the small glare he threw you.
“Keep it up, cher.”
“Or what?” You teased, “Waya gonna do, superstar?”
A deep growl rumbled in his chest as he towered over you, his lips now curved into a devilish smile. “Want me to show ya?”
Not the time. Not now. What were you doing?
“Oh, look at the time. G-Gotta get downstairs.”
Then, like the coward you were, you turned tail and ran, throwing a “See you later” over your shoulder as you took the stairs two at a time.
Hours later, when the clinic had closed and you began to drag yourself to your car, you remembered one crucial detail.
“An where the hell, ya think yer goin’?”
You didn’t even bother turning to face him, “Going home.”
“Uh huh. Ya gettin’ forgetful in yer old age?”
With a sigh, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I’m just tired. Okay?”
That was partially the truth. The exhaustion weighing you down was completely foreign to you. As his handler you had no problem working all day, then staying after hours to hang out with him. Right now, the only thing you wanted was your bed and be far away from everything Fazbear associated. Between this morning, the long day you had, and the constant battle with your emotions, you’d had enough.
Finally, you turned to face the irritated rockstar and snapped, “What’s the point in walking me outside after this morning? It’s all out in the open now. Seems like a waste of time.”
“God, yer like a pissed off toddler.”
“The hell you callin-“
Smoothly, Montgomery snatched your bag off your shoulder, then nodded to the exit. “C’mon, cher. It don’ take but a minute. I won’ even search yer car this time.”
The protest died on your tongue as he went out the door, leaving you no choice but to follow him into the chilly cold. With one final heavy sigh, you did just that, barely keeping up with his long strides until you were at your rusty hunk of junk car. Eagerly, you unlocked the door, took your bag from him and threw it into the back seat. You were just about to climb in, when a large hand slammed the door shut on you.
“Let’s get somethin’ straight,” He grumbled, grasping your chin to make you look at him. “I don’ know what the hell is goin’ on inside that head of yer’s, but this ain’ a waist of my time. I do it ‘cause I want to.”
You tried to fight the blush from pooling in your cheeks and failed horribly. “But-“
His gaze narrowed. “Don’ start.”
“Why?” It came out barely above a whisper.
It made no sense.You couldn’t wrap your tired brain around it-
“Because I like ya.”
“I mean I like you too-“
Montgomery groaned, dragging his hand down his face. “Damnit woman, ya could make this easier on me.” The normally confident rockstar shoved his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath. “I like ya, cher.”
And that was the moment your brain finally short circuited. “Wha- How-why-You choose now to tell me?! Right now? After all that-that shit this morning?!”
He shrugged, “It kinda kicked my ass in gear?”
God, you wanted to cry. You were already one of the reasons Montgomery was forced to stay here. Now-
“Ya know, ya could tell me to fuck off, instead of starin’ at me like that.”
“Fazbear-“
“This ain’ got a fuckin’ thing to do with that old fart,” The rockstar scowled, “This is me an’ you. If ya don’ like me like that-”
“I-If I don’t- how many kids have hit you in the head today?! Of course, I like you! How-“
You were cut short as you were yanked into his chest and engulfed into a tight hug. Carefully, the bassist tucked your head under his chin, then splayed his hands possessively across your back. After a moment of hesitation, you wound your arms around his waist and buried your face into his neck, melting into his warmth.
The small pinprick lights in your back seat went completely unnoticed.
Chapter 15: Wing It
Summary:
Talks and New Friends.
Notes:
Hello everyone!
Sorry for the delay, again. I blame the holidays. As a peace offering I made this chapter longer than usual and hope you enjoy it.
This chapter is in dedication of my sister, who harassed me to no end to put out a new chapter. And also to everyone who makes my day by following, bookmarking, and commenting.
As always, hope you all enjoy!
Chapter Text
He liked you.
Montgomery Gator liked you.
In what universe had you landed in? How in the hell had the two of you gone from clawing one another’s eyes out to professing feelings in the damned Fazbear parking lot?
Although you would have been more than content staying in his obnoxiously comfortable hold all night, you did have to come back the next morning. And honestly, you needed a moment alone to process it all.
The drive home had been quiet, lacking in the normal blaring music you ran on loop in the background, and the walk up to your apartment daunting with the numerous stairs.
After a short shower, you were left staring up at your stained ceiling, sprawled out on your mattress. The same short phrase kept repeating in your mind.
He liked you.
A groan and you threw your arm over your face. You had known how you felt, but never in a million years did you even suspect…
He fucking liked you!
Then you finally let an exhausted smile quirk your lips and did a happy little wiggle. With that same grin, you allowed your aching bones to sink into your bed to get some rest.
It was that moment that the noises in the vent above your head started.
You liked him.
You actually fuckin’ liked him.
It was beyond embarrassing, and he’d drop dead before admitting it to anyone, but he’d gotten absolutely zero sleep. The fuckin’ hug and all the fuckin’ sappiness-and- and that damned smile you gave him.
A loud groan and he scrubbed his face. Well, he’d finally got the balls to say something, now what? Admitting his feelings to you in the middle of the night, probably not his best idea. Especially since now Montgomery was left to wonder what the hell would happen.
Sure, you liked him back, but now what?
A quick check of his almost dead phone revealed no messages and had him tapping his foot as he placed it facedown on the couch cushion. It was almost time for you to get up for work, you wouldn’t be up texting him. The fuck was he thinking?
Ugh.
Another groan and Monty turned his bright red gaze upward, sagging against the back of the couch.
This was why he didn’t do relationships.
They were nothing but a distraction and a hinderance. Relationships required unnecessary time to be taken away from his career. It required phone calls, texts at minimum, dates even. He didn’t have time for that shit.
The superstar’s last relationship had been just before they had been indoctrinated into the Fazbear cult. She’d been a nice girl from his hometown, had gone to school with him, and lived just down the road. Really the only reason it lasted as long as it had was because she was so easy going.
He was busy practicing? She’d just come sit with him and the band while she worked on her college work.
He couldn’t pay for a date? She’d get some cheap ramen and bring it to him around lunch.
She’d had been his ideal girlfriend, until they got this opportunity. She was in college, working hard, and he was going across the country.
The split had been amicable. Afterward, he didn’t look for more than a decent looking woman to hook up with here and there.
But damnit.
Monty wanted to do all that shit with you.
What did you expect?
What would you want?
Another glance at the still blank phone revealed you’d be coming in a few minutes. With a sigh, the rockstar hauled himself off the couch and made his way to the shower. It was going to be a long, exhausting day.
Between your normal nightmares and the constant echoing coming from your vent, you were sure you’d gotten no sleep. It was a damned good thing your uniform was so simple now. All tops and pants matched, requiring no thought to put together an outfit.
Half asleep you donned your scrubs, threw your growing hair into a messy bun, and went out the door.
Maybe the noises were part of your nightmares? You hadn’t heard a peep since you got up for work.
You had seen things outside your dreams before, when you just woke up from a particularly nasty one. Maybe this was just another part of it?
Whatever the case, it didn’t stop the new swarm of happy, warm butterflies that filled you as you came through the front door and made your way to the time clock. Thankfully, there was one near the clinic so you could take your time and snag a coffee.
You were just about to swipe your badge, juggling the very big and hot beverage in your other hand, when an all too familiar presence warmed your back.
“Mornin’.” Slowly, Monty’s calloused hands rested on your hips as he pulled backward to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Watcha got there?”
You cleared your throat. “Just the usual. Didn’t sleep much last night.”
“Oh. Miss me that much already? Clingy much.”
You didn’t bother restraining your eyeroll, turning so you could glare up at him. “Says the one who conveniently was nearby when it was time for me to come in.”
That cocky smirk never wavered. “So ya did miss me.”
“Ugh, keep it up and you’ll get well acquainted with this coffee.”
“Awh, c’mon cher- “
“Don’t cher me, you pain in the ass- “
The bassist effectively silenced you by twirling you into a hug, much like the one from last night, and it fried the small part of your brain that had been working. All insults and comebacks died in your throat.
The sensation of his muscles tensing around you finally brought you down to reality.
“Monty?” He tucked your head under his chin and stiffened more. “Is everything okay?”
A small hum rattled his chest, “Yeah. Everythin’s good.”
Carefully, you pulled back from the embrace, taking note of the dark circles under his eyes. For you, it’d be normal. But in the months of knowing him, you’d never once seen Montgomery Gator like this. He thrived off two to three hours of sleep like it was nothing.
“Did you sleep okay?”
His red-hot gaze met yours as a small smirk quirked his lips. “Didn’ sleep a lot, but I’m good.”
“You want to talk about it?”
After a moment of perfect silence, the two of you just staring at one another, the superstar released a heavy sigh, “What are ya expectin’?”
That made your brows furrow. “What are you talking about?”
“I mean,” With a frustrated groan, the bassist rubbed the back of his neck. Suddenly finding the time clock much more interesting to look at. “I mean…what are ya thinkin’? Do ya wanna go on a date or somethin’? I don’ really know- “
The smile that spread across your lips cut him off, “Is that what you’re worrying about? Who knew you were a big softie?”
Red eyes turned into slits as he jabbed a finger into your shoulder. “A-aye don’t go spoutin’ that shit out in the open! I got a reputation to maintain!”
“Oh noooo, Montgomery Gator cares!” A loud laugh escaped, despite your pathetic efforts. “Alert the media!”
“I said hush it!”
Your grin only widened. “I’m not expecting anything.” Monty’s scowl remained. With roll of your eyes, you reached out, taking a hold of one of his hands with your free one. “We don’t have to do anything. Just because we like each other doesn’t mean we have to act a certain way. Did you think we had to do something?”
The scowl finally melted from his features, “Well-I mean…. I didn’ know.” Pink spread across his cheeks. “I’ve not done…this…”
“There’s nothing to do.” After a moment of hesitation, you grasped his chin and redirected his gaze back to you. You stood corrected. This had to be the most flustered you’d seen him. “We can just make it up as we go.”
“Sounds good, cher.”
“Now do you think I can go to work?” You chuckled, pointedly looking at the clock.
A small squeeze of your hand and the bassist righted himself, releasing his hold on you. “See ya later?”
“Don’t you always?”
Monty smirked.
True to his word, Montgomery came by later that day to spend your lunch with you and to walk you out that night. After the talk you two had, it looked as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
A month later, things hadn’t changed much between the two of you, but you’d began to take notice of small stuff. Touching wasn’t new, the two of you had progressed to grabbing one another’s hands before everything had happened. But these once fleeting moments increased to him grabbing your hand every night to walk you out, a heavy palm at the base of you back, or him picking stray strands of tape off your uniform.
Only hiccup was you’d yet to reciprocate.
It wasn’t intentionally.
At the beginning, you wanted him to set the pace, let him show you what he was comfortable with. He’d been stressed out over expectations and the last thing you wanted to do was to make him feel pressured.
Now, you found yourself with a brand-new problem. There had been no doubt in your mind that you liked Monty, zero hesitation in stepping forward into this carefully fabricated relationship you were building. No, your problem was you didn’t know how to let him be there with you.
From the time you were a child, you were taught independence. Your father especially drilled in the importance of not relying on anyone to help you get through life. Although this resulted in a good work ethic and stubborn behavior, you didn’t know how to just let someone do something for you. Even when it came to borrowing money from your family, you’d only accepted their offer on the strict basis of you paying them.
So, the question was, how could you pay Montgomery back?
“Hey, sugar, got a sec’?”
Cue you dropping the whole box of bandages you’d been putting away in the designated bins. You couldn’t stop the aggravated groan that escaped you. God, you really needed to get your head out of the clouds.
Eileen, however, found the situation rather amusing. With a wide smile, she leaned casually in the supply room doorway, quirking a brow at your flushed demeanor. “Daydreamin’ about lover boy?”
You could feel your whole body turn red. “I-He-we’re-He’s not-“
“Oh, sugar, you got it bad.” She grinned as she stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “I know that look from anywhere.”
“I-It’s nothing.”
“Mhm, so nothing has him coming in here like a lost swamp puppy to take lunch with you or bringing you lunch when you forget?”
The hot blush spoke for itself.
When no response came, Eileen gave you a kind smile that pronounced the crinkles around her eyes, “If you don’t wanna talk about it, I understand dear. But if ya do, I’m here.”
Silently, you nodded. It was enough to sort through the emotional minefield with him, much less try and explain it to someone else. You cleared your throat, kneeling to clean up your mess. “Thanks, did you need something earlier?”
“Right, the Daycare Attendant called. Something about a kid hurting themself, wanted someone to run over and check them out. I’d go, but we have a full lobby and full patient areas. I was gonna see if you’d hop on over.”
“Sure,” With nod of your head, you righted the stock of bandages and dusted off your scrub pants. “I’ll grab the travel first aid kit on the way out, just in case.”
You’d been meaning to go check on the boys anyway. You hadn’t heard hide nor hair from them since the four of you got your new assignments, and you were starting to worry.
This way you could kill two birds with one stone.
“Be sure to have your badge out. They got some kinda new robots roaming around checking employees or something.”
That got your attention. “New…robots?”
Eileen shrugged, “Just heard about them this morning. Supposed to be an “upgrade” in security around here. Flashlight toting little things rolling around. Just make sure ya got your badge and you’ll be fine.”
Somehow that didn’t reassure you.
Sure enough, Eileen was right. No sooner had you stepped foot outside the clinic did you see the new robots. Like the cleaning and map ‘bots that already roamed the Pizzaplex, they had human like qualities, but wheels for legs. The only difference you could find was the black ballcaps that had “Security” written on their surface and a flashlight in one of their hands.
They were only a few in sight, roaming along the halls amongst the throngs of guests, occasionally stopping an employee or visitor to scan their badge or wristband.
Why these robots bothered you, you weren’t sure. You’d never minded the others.
With a deep breath, you pushed on down the hall, keeping your head down and the bright red duffle bag tight to your side. The whole ‘Fazbear’ situation had cost you enough sleep and time as it was. Sleep was a luxury you got in short bursts anymore, between the nightmares and the now traditional banging echoing out of your duct work at the apartment, you relied on coffee to keep you running.
You’d almost made it to the large, castle like double doors of the daycare when a blur of silver whirred out in front of you.
“You are in a restricted area. Badge or pass, please.”
Thankfully, you had listened to Eileen and had your badge ready on hand. Easily, you slipped it off your other hip and raised it in front of the robot. A red light beamed out of its eyes and a beep sounded.
“Staff. Category: Medical Personnel. Clearance Level: Two. Access: Granted.” Another beep and in an alarmingly human gesture, the robot tipped its hat off to you. “Have a Fazerriffic day!”
Not another look your way, the security bot roamed on down the hall, leaving you hesitating by the entrance. You were over thinking it. The other robots had their own quirks. You were simply over analyzing everything.
That was it.
A shake of your head and you slipped inside the enormous space. You’d never been inside the daycare, but you could now see why the kids adored it. It was filled with color and attractions that you would have adored as a child, from the ball pit to the rainbow towers adorned with slides.
In the midst of your musing, you gaze finally found a small group huddled in the center of the room. A few children lingered around two tall, lean muscled men, one of which held a very familiar looking little girl.
“Julia?”
How they heard you over the screams of excited children, you didn’t know, but immediately all eyes landed on you.
“Took you long enough.” One of the two men grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Messy black hair framed his pale face as bright red eyes narrowed into slits. “We called several minutes ago.”
Your teeth ground, opening your mouth to retort when the man holding Julia piped up. “Moonie, there’s no reason to be rude to our guest! She came to help! Didn’t you, sunshine!?”
“Sun-“
“You’re Monty’s friend!” The patient in question squeaked, “Where have you been?! I missed you!”
Moon visibly blanched, “Ugh, you associate with that thing?”
“Moonie!”
“What? You’ve met the guy!”
An all too familiar headache began to pulse at your temples. With a very deep soothing sigh, you focused your best smile at the darling little girl, who had an obviously bruised ankle. “How about I take a look at that?”
Julia’s lips thinned into a line, but she nodded, tan fingers clutching Sun’s arm. A gulp and she turned her attention to Moon, “W-Will you get my brother? I-I want h-him.”
All anger and snark melted from his pale features as he reached down to smooth her black strands of hair. Her lower lip quivered, leaning into the comforting gesture. “Of course, I will little one.” His glare sliced in your direction as he hissed, “Don’t touch her, until I come back.”
As if on cue, a large silver hoop dropped from the ceiling, dangling from several colorful streamers and into Moon’s awaiting grasp. Without a glance backward, the Daycare Attendant stepped onto the hoop and was lifted into the air. Once at a stop, he swung and flipped mid-air to grab the next hoop, then the next, and the next. In a matter of seconds, he’d traipsed across the daycare.
You knew you looked like a gaping moron. What the actual hell?! “Wha-What- How-”
“It’s much faster for us with how large the daycare is! We used to do acrobatics and well, the children love it!” Sun grinned, then turned his attention to the still wide-eyed Julia. The smile on his lips softened as he began to gently rock the little girl in his hold. “Don’t worry! Big brother will be here soon!”
In sharp contrast to his companion, Sun reminded you of Freddy. All, ironically, sunshine and rainbows with his bright blonde hair and deep tan.
But that’s not what you were here for, as interesting at the two attendants were.
Slowly, you kneeled before your patient, putting on your best ‘everything is going to be okay’ face. “I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you. I started working in the clinic to help fix boo boos.”
That made Julia perk up. “Oh! Like you did when you played with us?!”
“Mhm! Just like that. How’d you get your boo boo?”
“I tripped on my shoelace while playing!” She whined dramatically, head falling back into Sun’s supporting arm.
You couldn’t stop the small giggle. “I’m sorry, honey. Does it hurt to walk?”
A small nod. “It does.”
“Can you move it at all?”
“A-A little.” In demonstration she wiggled the injured limb but stopped with a grimace. “It hurts.”
It looked like it hurt. Her small ankle had almost doubled in size with a dark purple bruise engulfing it. You reached forward to place a comforting hand on her head when something pale smacked it away.
“I told you not to touch her.”
This time you did snarl, whirling to face the menace and stopped when you seen your three long lost partners behind him. It wasn’t suddenly seeing them that made you speechless. It was the fact that all three men were covered head to toe in glitter, glue, googly eyes, and…. was that feathers in their hair? Before you could form a response, Lee brushed past you and cupped Julia’s face.
He unleashed a loud sigh, “You’re going to be the death of me, kid. What were you doin’ this time?”
“Nuh-uh! That’s Chica!”
“That’s also true. Good job dodging the question” Lee grumbled, now turning to face you. “Not exactly how I wanted to see you again.”
Moon snorted as he glanced at the four of you. “Makes perfect sense. The three imbeciles know the moron.”
Your eye twitched. “Awful big word. I’m proud of you…Moon? Wasn’t it? Did Julia teach it to you?”
If looks could kill, you would’ve dropped dead and rotted three times over. His upper lip curled, displaying a sharp canine as he stepped into your bubble and leered down at you, “Oh, I could teach you a thing or two- “
Jackson magically appeared and smoothly tucked you behind him. His gaze narrowed suspiciously up at the attendant, “We are not doing this again with a different asshole. She kept the last one.” With Moon thoroughly baffled, Boy Wonder turned his attention to you, “How about we get Julia to the clinic?”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea!” Sun chirped, bouncing to his feet as he cradled his charge protectively to his chest. “I’ll carry the little one, so we don’t jostle her anymore! Moonie, it’s nap time for our friends!”
One more glare toward you and Moon snorted, “Fine. It is nap time.”
“Wonderful!” Sun merrily skipped from the room. “Follow me!”
When the six of you arrived at the clinic’s doorstep, Eileen had been patiently waiting with her hands on her hips. At the sight of the crowd, her eyebrows shot upward.
“I was getting worried, you were gone a while, sugar.” The nurse’s commanding gaze skimmed over the bunch before her, then landed on the tall attendant. “Ah, Sun- “
“Our friend got hurt! Please fix her!” He pleaded, holding up Julia up by the armpits, eliciting a giggle from her. “I’ll be good, Ms. Eileen! I promise!”
The older woman didn’t look impressed, “Uh huh, take her to the first bed, and keep your damned hands to yourself. No glitter, no glue, nothing but you and the patient. Are we clear, Sundrop?”
Under her burning stare, Sun withered and grimaced. “Yes, ma’am. No crafts…. this time.” Before she could change her mind, he slipped passed her and ran inside, out of sight of her narrowing eyes.
With an exhausted sigh, Eileen turned her attention to you. “Friends of yours?”
Colby smiled cheekily, throwing an arm across your shoulders, and pulling you into his side. “The very best! We’ve been through the trenches with this girl.”
Cue your eyeroll. That’d be one way to put it.
“I’m Julia’s brother,” Lee stepped forward and gestured to the doors, “Can I- “
All intimidation melted from Eileen’s features. A small nod and she gave him her warmest smile, “Of course, honey. Go on in.” Then she arched a brow and glanced at the three of you, “You boys stay in the lobby. Sugar, you’re helping me.”
Once the X-Rays had been taken, Julia rested comfortably tucked into her big brother’s side for a nap in the stretcher. Sun, true to his word, occupied himself by doodling in a notepad he had tucked into a pocket of his bright orange cargo pants. All there was to be done was for the doctor to slow down long enough to look at said images.
In the time you’d been working in the clinic, you couldn’t say you’d ever met the speedy doctor. You’d leave a room and he’d whoosh in, then be gone again before your turned back around. Honestly, you thought the lack of sleep had finally made you snap, but judging from Eileen’s sharp scowl, maybe you weren’t certifiable just yet.
“He’s gotta come back for water at some point, damned heathen’.”
The two of you remained propped behind the nurses’ station, eyes fixated on the gallon of water next to the doctor’s designated computer.
You arched a brow. “You sure? It’s been a minute.”
“That speed he’s got comes at a cost. Drinks water like he’s a dyin’ and when he does, one of us will grab him.”
“Uh-huh…”
Right on cue, a streak of red zoomed past the two of you and paused at the computer. With faster reflexes than you expected, Eileen’s hand whipped out like lightening, grabbing the back of the white coat and dragged the doctor physically to her.
You didn’t know what you thought he would look like, but you hadn’t imagined this. Tangled, long red hair was pulled back by a black bandana and a star eye patch covered one of his eyes.
“Mutiny! Ya scallywag- Oh! Eileen, darlin’, don’ you look lovely- “
“Save it,” She huffed, yanking him down to her level. “X-Rays. Bed one. Now.”
“Patience, my harpy. Jus’ gotta-“
“No, no. That girl has been here over an hour, waiting on your ass. Look now or I’m hiding the eyepatch.”
At that, the doctor’s eye narrowed. “Ya wouldn’- “
“Try me, youngin’.”
His lips pursed, glancing over her hardened features. With a sigh, he knocked her hand off his coat. “Fine, fine, I’ll-“
“Now, Dr. Fox!”
At that the redhead recoiled, “Alright, sheesh.”
Without another word, he pulled up the X-Rays. A quick glance and the red blur disappeared into Julia’s room, leaving nothing but the billowing of curtains behind him.
“Track star?”
Eileen huffed, “How’d ya guess? Peak in to check after him, I’ll go get the rest of patients settled.” After a beat, an exhausted sigh left her, “He is a great doctor. One of the best. He just gets distracted sometimes, especially when we’re this busy.”
Once she left the station, you followed your instructions and popped your head into the room. The little girl had all the men in the room completely wrapped around her little finger. Doctor Fox was sitting at the end of the bed, patting her knee, while Sun played with her hair.
Lee rolled his eyes. “Suckers.”
You choked on a laugh.
“Alright, missy. Yer lucky it isn’ broken. No more ignoring them shoestrings. We clear?”
She nodded with a wide smile, “Of course, Dr. Fox!”
“Jus’ call me Foxy, lil miss.” The redhaired doctor chuckled, then turned toward the curtain to lock his eye on yours. His grin only widened when you jumped back in surprise. “A pink wrap and some crutches?”
“Um, will do.”
A satisfied nod and one more pat to the patient’s knee. “Yer good to go, darlin’. Don’ let them scallywags get one over on ya. Especially, the smilin’ one. He’s a menace.”
“I am not!” Sun screeched in protest.
“My nurse says otherwise,” Foxy smirked with a barking laugh. “An’ she may be a harpy, but she ain’ steered me wrong yet.”
Before Sun could even form a reply, the doctor had already breezed out of the room, leaving him gaping like a goldfish. “T-The menace! I never! He’s the menace! Didn’t even brush his hair!”
“It’s okay, Sunny! My brother says I’m a menace too!”
“Then we’ll be the band of merry menaces!” He declared, hands proudly on his hips.
You and Lee both rubbed your foreheads.
Once patched and wrapped up, Sun happily escorted the patient back to the daycare to finish out the day. You had just entered the now empty room, gathering up the linen and preparing the cleaning wipes, when the boys popped inside.
Colby looked like he was going to be sick, hanging on for dear life between Jackson and Lee as they dragged him. “I think I’ll stick with never ending crafts. Did you know there’s been at least ten yackin’ kids since we’ve been here?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, “Sounds about right.”
Jackson didn’t bother holding back his eyeroll. “So dramatic. You act like we haven’t been working with kids for years.”
“That was different,” The redhead groaned, “They got sick, you send them to the clinic. Didn’t think I’d be stuck in here with them!”
“I didn’t ask you to stay,” Lee grumbled, gaze fixated on the ceiling. “You could’ve just stayed with- “
“Who?! Moon, the tyrant? No thanks. He’s like Montgomery on a power trip.” Colby blanched then righted himself and wiped the cold sweat off his forehead. “Speaking of the asshole….”
Ah, so there it was. The three of them could say whatever they wanted. That women were all drama and gossip, but out of all your jobs, you’d never met a nosier bunch.
“He’s fine,” Came your chuckled reply. “Far as I know, at least.” A silent look was exchanged between them that made you pause in your cleaning. You knew those looks from anywhere. With a sigh, you leaned against the closest wall and crossed your arms. “Out with it. What’d you really want to know?”
Being always the leader, Jackson cleared his throat and stepped forward, “Well, there’s been rumors….”
“This place is worse than a high school, you’re going to have to be more specific.”
“Are you two a thing?”
That shouldn’t have caught you off guard, but you could still feel the tell tale burn of a blush begin to pool in your cheeks. Which didn’t help your case at all. In contrast to when you were asked by Eileen, the answer left you with little hesitation, “I…guess…maybe? Hell, I don’t know. We like each other.”
Colby choked, “L-Like- Well damn woman we knew that months ago!”
“Then what did you want?” You gritted your teeth.
Before the redhead could reply, Jackson whacked him on the back of his head and sighed. “There’s just been talk of Monty having a girlfriend. So, we naturally thought it was you.”
“I don’t know about being his girlfriend,” You rubbed the back of your neck. “We’re just kinda going with it.”
Surprisingly, instead of outraged cries or pleads to stay away from him, you were met with understanding smiles and nods. The shock on your face must have been obvious because Jackson chuckled and patted your shoulder. “Just let us know if we need to kick the bastard’s ass, okay?”
Lee snorted, “Oh yeah, because that went so well for you last time. Pretty sure she’ll be saving your ass…again.”
“Aye! He caught me off guard-“
“And weren’t you a lineman on your football team?” Colby added, scratching his cheek, “Isn’t it kinda their job to expect the unexpected?”
“Who’s side are you on?!”
There was one detail though that was bugging you. In the month after the position changes, you’d never seen them outside the daycare, “Where did you hear that from?”
“Julia.” Lee shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “She tells me everything. That’s how we knew how things were going with the job. Gator Golf is her favorite and Montgomery’s her second favorite, after Chica. So, Michael, our brother, will take her to play golf before he takes her to the daycare and go to work.”
Of course. That’d make sense now that you knew the connection between the two, but still. She’d have to pay an awful lot of attention to the two of you to even think that. With a shake of your head and a chuckle, you couldn’t help but think that maybe Fazbear should’ve made her the spy.
Two weeks later, you finally cracked after hearing the god-awful rattling coming from your vent. There was only so long even you could go without sleep, and this was that limit. That next morning, you caved and called your landlord, Jerry. Although a cheapskate, he was an honest man who arrived within the hour on the rainy Saturday morning to check everything out.
After inspecting the best that he could and shining his banged-up flashlight into every vent, he plopped onto your bed under the vent you’d reported the most noise came from. He sat there over an hour, waiting and listening, but nothing. With a shrug, he gave up and called in his brother, who happened to specialize in vent work.
You felt like you were losing your mind. Maybe you were. It had been there! It had. It even happened when you walked through the apartment now, those damned sounds would follow you. No matter where you went, they followed, and worsened when you’d go to bed.
This theory only became cemented into your mind when his brother showed up and found nothing. No sounds. No indications of a wild animal. Not even a dust bunny.
Damn you wanted to cry. Your hands would not quit shaking and there was only so long you could blame it on caffeine. Montgomery had begun to take notice, and Eileen had even caught you dozing off in the supply room a few times at this point.
Your frustration must have been obvious, because Jerry requested his brother install mesh behind the slatted vents. Just incase something they couldn’t find was in there, it’d be blocked.
And finally, you thought you might be able to get some rest. You hadn’t heard a single. You’d just managed to drift off to sleep, when your stomach curdled, and hair stood on end.
The tell-tale metallic scrapes returned.
It felt like your heart was going to burst. With a fresh surge of adrenaline, you slowly sat up and listened. A loud clank sent you flying out of your bed and running like your life depended on it out the door, slamming it shut behind you and leaning.
The sound hadn’t been what scared you. No, it was where it came from. It had always come from the vents, distant but noticeable.
This time it came from under your bed.
Chapter 16: Safe
Summary:
Sap and development.
Notes:
Hello everyone!
It's great to be back. Thank you to all of you have patiently waited, while I got my health straightened out. For some context, I'm a breast cancer survivor and completed treatment a year ago. I'm healthy, except if I get a cold I get wiped out for a month. But, I'm ready to go again and hope you enjoy this newest chapter.
As always, enjoy!
PS. Please ignore the typos. I was excited to post
Chapter Text
The piercing melody of his cell phone sliced through the silence of his bedroom.
Montgomery grumbled under his breath and flipped onto his other side, determined to ignore it. After the mandatory four rings it went to voice mail, and he was able to begin to drift back to sleep. It’d been a hell of a few weeks with the Pizzaplex now open on the weekends. In contrast to the weekend concerts they’d attend, this was an additional two days of wrangling costumers. Except these costumers weren’t kids but insisted on acting like them.
The first weekend wasn’t too bad, giving golfing lessons to some teens and adults, then doing two concerts a day.
It was the Saturday that followed had been hell on earth.
You would think teens and adults would understand the concept of acting their age, but under Fazbear’s anything goes guidelines, he’d been proven wrong.
A kid had never tried to sneak into his bedroom or slip them their phone number. The flirting wasn’t new by a long shot, but God it was like he was smothering now.
The fact that the clinic wasn’t open on weekends may have also factored into his attitude, but Montgomery refused to take a closer look at that. Or the wound on his ego of you not visiting on your days off.
Maybe it had a lot to do with it.
But you were already there five days a week and spent all your breaks with him. What more did he want? You weren’t his girlfriend and didn’t have any obligations towards him, so why the hell did he care you didn’t show up?
The phone began ringing again.
Why the hell did he keep his phone next to his bed? Why the hell did he even live in the damned Pizzaplex? It was enough he was enslaved to the old bastard seven days a week.
The ringing finally ceased, and the bassist relaxed into the mattress. With thoughts of finding a place to sleep far away from the neon-colored building, he started to drift back off.
His cellphone sounded once more, and Monty snapped.
So help him if it was Roxanne drunk off her ass again.
A loud snarl tore free from his throat as he snatched the phone off the floor, “The hell ya want?!”
For a moment, he heard nothing but staticky silence and he hoped he scared sense into his drunk friend.
“D-Did I wake you up?”
That sure as hell wasn’t Roxanne. The rockstar almost toppled out of the bed, managing to catch himself just before doing a faceplant, “Cher?”
It couldn’t be you. You never called. Never.
“S-Shit, I didn’t even look at the time-Fuck, I’m sorry, Monty- Just forget it-“
“Wha’s wrong?” He demanded, already on his feet. All thoughts of anger or sourness towards you melted at the sound of your shaky breathing.
“It’s nothing. I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“
“Where are ya?”
“I-“
“Ya at home?” Montgomery managed to find some sweats and a sweatshirt in his mess of room, digging to find his keys. Hell, he was getting as bad as you. When you didn’t reply he paused, “Cher?”
“It’s fine. I-I’m fine-“
“Ya sure as hell don’ sound fine.” Came the bassist’s growled reply.
“I’m-“
With a tired sigh, he ran a hand over his face. “I’m assumin’ yer home then. See ya in ten.”
“Bu-“
He hung up on you and made his way to the parking lot.
God, you turned him into such a fuckin’ sap.
In the five minutes it took to get to your apartment, a range of scenarios had already run through his mind. Everything outlandish to impossible that made him push the gas just that much more to get to you.
None of them matched what he found.
It’d been lightly drizzling when he left the Pizzaplex, but now a steady rain poured down on him, slicking his sweatshirt to him. Once in the parking lot, the bassist didn’t have to look far to find you.
You were sitting barefoot on your top step, head leaning against the door, and arms wrapped around your legs.
In a rush, the adrenaline left him. You were safe. Stupid, maybe, but safe. What in the hell were you thinking?
Steadily, the rockstar took the stairs two at a time until he reached you, then paused just at your feet. Now the blue of your fingers stood out and the quiver to your shoulders.
“The hell ya doin’?” Came his gruff reply.
For someone looking like a smurf, your glare still managed to hold some heat to it. “I told you I was fine.”
“Oh yea’, I noticed,” The bassist snorted. “Ya know how many times ya’ve called me? Not a single fuckin’ time. The time ya do it’s three in the fuckin’ mornin’ and ya expect me to believe nothin’s wrong?”
You deflated with a sigh, rubbing your forehead. “I-I’m being stupid, I’m sorry. I’m going to go in. You can go home-“
“I ain’ movin’ till yer ass is inside.” Cue your muscles coiling and teeth grinding. He arched a brow, “For someone so smart, ya do some dumb shit.”
You refused to meet his gaze now.
“I know-I shouldn’t-My dad would be in bed-the-the boys would too-“
With a deep sigh, Montgomery leaned against the wall next to him and ran a hand through his hair. “I get it, I ain’ yer first choice-“
“NO! No! It’s not that.” You were looking at him now. The dark circles under your eyes looking closer to bruises than anything. “I just-I overreacted! It’s fine-I’m fine-“
“Then why the hell are ya sittin’ outside in the rain, baby?” And just like that, your mouth snapped shut and dark flush bloomed up your neck. A small smirk quirked his lips at the sight and widened as you scowled. “Damn. If I knew that was all it took to shut ya up, I woulda been callin’ ya that for a while. Now let’s go in-“
“No!” Your teeth begin to nibble into your lower lip, not able to keep eye contact any longer. “T-There’s- God- I’m losing my fucking mind.”
The bassist quirked a brow. “As much as I’m enjoyin’ standin’ out ‘ere gettin’ a free shower an’ all,” With a smooth roll of his shoulders he worked out any kinks, then snatched you up before you could run. “Come on.”
You gave an indignant squawk as he threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Montgomery Gator! Put me the hell down!”
“Oh, I will. Damn woman. Sittin’ in the rain like a nut.” Monty rolled his eyes, pushing your front door open with ease and tossed you unceremoniously on the couch with a bounce. Smoothly, he kicked the door shut and propped against it. “Happy?”
You snorted. “Delighted.”
Montgomery liked to think he knew you well. Knew your quirks and signals you’d send out unconsciously, but in the span of time he known you, he’d never seen you act like this. Your fingers dug into the upholstery of the couch as you jerked your feet off the floor and tucked them under yourself, gaze bouncing from place to place frantically.
There was no mistaking it.
You were terrified of something. A feeling he was all too familiar with.
The hardness of his shoulders softened, “Cher, what’s a goin’ on?”
“Y-You’d think I was crazy-“
“Me think ya crazy?” Came his bellowed laugh. Oh, the irony. “Ya do remember the whole spy thing righ’?”
“That was different! You were right!”
“An’ you’re not?”
You bit your lip, “I-I don’t know.”
“Trust me.”
The tightness forming in his chest, he knew, was a sign of his eventual doom. Trust hadn’t been something he gave out freely. For a while, Montgomery hadn’t even trusted his friends. How could he? With everything that had been going on and just how utterly alone he’d felt for years.
Fucking years.
Until you showed up on his doorstep and bullied yourself in.
Despite every warning signal alerting him to the danger of the idea, the bassist knew at some point he began trusting in you.
When did that happen?
When you covered for him following you for months? When you helped him clean up the mess he’d made in his room? When you grabbed his hand for the first time? When you stayed even though you knew just how messed up his life had become….
Couldn’t you do the same for him?
The hesitation on your features only made the ache begin throb with every breath he took.
That was it.
You didn’t trust him.
What else could it be?
Fuck, how could you? Pot calling the kettle black. Montgomery could feel his muscles coiling. You had told him to leave and like a damn moron, he dragged you in and pushed himself onto you-
“There’s something in here.” Red eyes widened and snapped to your still pale face. Carefully, you chewed on an already bleeding thumb nail as you met his shocked gaze. “I-I heard something under my bed. A-And I he-hear it follow me through the house.”
The bassist’s first reaction would have been to laugh in your face.
But it was you.
Before he could even utter a word, you had already covered your face with your shaking hands. “I’m losing my mind, Monty! I-I can’t sleep! I can’t do anything without feeling like someone is watching me!” And just like that you curled in on yourself. “I-I don’t know what else to do.”
Then the dam broke. Montgomery could only watch in horror as tears began to streak down your flushed cheeks and you buried your face into your arms. “C-Cher?”
A loud sob caused him to jump into the door.
Oh god, you were crying harder now.
He liked to think he was rather smooth with women in general. But hell if you weren’t making him flounder like a teenage boy right now. Did he grab you? Pat your arm?
Hell no, even he knew that’d be a dick move. But maybe you didn’t like to be touched while crying? How the hell was he supposed to know?!
What was he supposed to do?! Hold you?! Sit beside you?! Ignore it?!
Then a miracle of a thought formed amongst his growing panic.
What would he want? What did he want when he had been broken?
The bassist could only cringe at the thought. What if you-
No. No more doubts. Trying something, anything had to be better than just watching you fall apart in front of him.
With a deep breath and a bit hesitation, Montgomery took a step forward, then another, until he towered over your quivering form. Cautiously, he kneeled in front of you, gently grasped your wrists, and pulled you to him. In one smooth motion, you fell into his hold and latched your arms around him.
The bassist couldn’t help but deflate in pure relief. Your still cold nose brushed against his flushed skin as you buried your face into his neck. Monty began to move with confidence now, picking you up and placing you into his lap as he took your previous seat.
Any remaining doubt he had was wiped free when you tightened your death grip on him and threaded your fingers into mussed hair to hold him closer.
A small, warm smile spread across his lips as he leaned into you.
How long the two of you stayed like that, you weren’t sure. But it had been long enough, that when your cries dissolved into weak hiccups, you were thoroughly embarrassed. How could you have done that?
Why did it have to be in front of him-
Oh god, kill you now.
Was that snot-
Yep, you’d go sacrifice yourself to whatever was stalking you now.
Unfortunately, before you could so much as budge, Montgomery’s burning red gaze was on you. “Ya feel better?”
You felt like a rat’s ass. How could you have dumped yourself on him like that? With everything he’d been going through, how could make it this about you? What the hell were you thinking calling him this late, for what?!
“I-I’m so sorry, I’ll get you a paper towel-“
His fingers only dug harder into your side. “I’m fine.”
A protest was ready on the tip of your tongue, but died when the bassist tucked you back into place. “It’s okay, ya know? To need someone….I mean- I-,” Pink blossomed across his skin, “Y-you’ve been there for me…..let me be there for ya….”
Warmth spread across your cheeks and down your neck.
“T-That was a low blow.”
The superstar gave a satisfied smirk. “I’m proud of myself fer tha’ one.”
You snorted, but not even that could squash the butterflies that swarmed your stomach. Despite your best efforts, you could feel yourself melting back into him. He was so warm, and you were so tired of looking over your shoulder.
But…. Monty was here…
A loud yawn escaped you as you snuggled closer.
And for the first time in weeks, even months, you let your guard down and let go.
You were safe.
Montgomery could feel the very moment you fell asleep. Your breaths evened and slowed as you went limp against him. But the grip you kept on his shirt prevented his escape.
Not that he wanted to. You looked all too peaceful buried into his sweatshirt, dark circles a stark contrast to your skin.
How long had you not gotten sleep?
Sure, Monty had seen you nodding off here and there, but that hadn’t been anything new. Then again, he couldn’t pinpoint when you changed from coffee to several energy drinks a day.
Maybe being sappy wasn’t so bad…. once a while that is. He had his image to maintain after all-
You snored and Montgomery barely choked down his laugh. If this wasn’t a vulnerable moment for you, he wouldn’t have hesitated to record it for future use.
But now that he had you calmed, how the hell was he going to get back to his bed-
Another little wiggle and Monty sighed. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t going anywhere.
Maybe he could put you in your bed?
The bassist cringed. Probably wouldn’t be a good idea, given your break down. Your couch wasn’t big enough for him, but you’d fit good. A small groan and he dragged a calloused hand down his tired features.
The things he did for you.
With some difficulty and prying Monty managed to have you release him. After careful maneuvering, he tucked a blanket around you, making sure you were warm enough.
Once the rockstar got you settled, his gaze drifted to another couch pillow and extra blanket in a corner. Seemed there was only one real option here. A small sigh and he tossed the pillow on the floor next to the couch.
Least the flooring didn’t look too hard.
The blare of an alarm clock made you jerk up with a shot, searching the area around you to orient yourself.
Why were you in the living room-
A small groan dragged your gaze downward to see a familiar looking rockstar sitting up to ruffle his already mussed hair. A hot flush spread up into your cheeks. How the hell he looked so good just waking up-
No time for that. No.
He- He slept in your floor?!
He came to you at three in the morning and held you while you cried?
As the memories of last night slowly came back to you, you could feel the vice grip on your tight chest being to crush you…
Your mouth was too dry. “Monty?”
The man in question stretched, enjoying the pop of his shoulders. “Yea, babe?”
“You stayed….and slept on my floor?”
Montgomery snorted and rolled his eyes. “What’d ya think I’d do? Honestly, woman. Cried yerself to sleep goin’ on about not feelin’ safe and ya thought I’d leave-“
Who knew that’d be the tipping point for you. There was no thoughts of what would happen or if you should.
You didn’t think about the consequences as you fell onto the floor with him.
With flaming cheeks, you grabbed an ounce of courage to straddle the gawking rockstar’s lap, so you could reach and bring his lips down to yours.
Chapter 17: Hold My Hand
Summary:
Feelings, robots, and a splash of blood.
Notes:
Hello everyone!
As always I hope you enjoy this chapter. It does begin with some spice, but I'll mark it so that those who don't wish to read can carry on to the rest of the story. It's not explicit, but suggestive. The beginning and the end will be marked with *. I thought it was time the two of you got to express some of those pent up feelings.
You and Monty centric.
Warning: Mentions of blood and injury
I did this instead of sleeping. As always, hope you all enjoy ~!
Chapter Text
****
You were shaking too bad for the kiss to last very long. With a deep breath through your nose, you managed to pull away. Your fingers twitched against his neck as you tried and failed to remain calm.
Hell, Montgomery hadn’t budged.
He was just staring at you.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
You done it now.
You fucked everything up.
The tremors had spread down your arms and your throat felt tight. Why? Why did you do that? What the hell were you thinking?
Concrete had begun settling into your gut when you began to pull away from the bassist. You were embarrassed enough, no need to drag it out by sitting there. Just as you got a foot under you, an iron tight grip snatched you around the hips and jerked you right back down.
“What-“, A tentative stroke to your ribcage sent a shiver down your back and rendered you immobile.
With a dry swallow, you bit the bullet and met the rockstar’s heavy-lidded stare. The look alone was enough to turn your legs into jelly and wipe any thoughts of escaping straight from your mind. You wanted to say something, anything. But all attempts ended in you looking like a floundering fish. Never once did those smoldering hot eyes leave your reddened face.
In a blink of an eye, Monty snapped. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and he crushed his lips into yours. You released a muffled groan as you felt the rough swipe of his tongue, seeking entrance into your mouth.
It set a rush of fire through your veins. That instant you surged forward, twisting your fingers roughly into the rockstar’s hair, pulling him impossibly closer. His hands were everywhere, leaving a blazing trail of heat against your overheated skin. A flick of his tongue as it swathed your bottom lip and you were on your knees, nipping down the corner of his mouth to his jawline.
“Cher.” Montgomery warned as he squeezed up your thighs to your hips.
“Hmm?”
A nibble to his earlobe had his nails digging into you.
“Fuck, ya tryin’ to kill me?” A smirk quirked your lips as you soothed the bite with your tongue. A growl and you felt him tense into a bundle of nerves beneath your hands. “Keep it up.”
You stopped in your ministrations long enough to lean back to see his narrowed gaze burning into you. You chuckled, “Or what, big guy? You want me to stop?”
Montgomery gritted his teeth. Before you could make a move, he scooped you up, hitching your legs around his waist as he guided you onto your back. A gasp tore free of your throat at the sensation of his body pressing into yours.
His heavy breaths brushed against your kiss swollen lips. “Fuck no. Don’ ya dare stop.”
It was then Monty paused above you, arms caging you in between him and the floor. Hesitation softened his features as his calloused thumb brushed the sliver of skin exposed when your shirt rode up.
You blushed so hard it hurt.
On one hand, you normally would have waited until you dated someone at least a few months before doing something like this. On the other, how long had you wanted to kiss and touch him like you were?
You swallowed as your hands slipped from his shoulders.
Did you want to stop?
You had no doubt Montgomery would if you asked.
But at the same time, you wanted to wrap yourself up in him.
Seeing your pause, the bassist began to raise himself up, gently unhooking your legs from around his hips.
Fuck.
Oh, fuck it all.
With a deep breath, you constricted your arms back around his neck, bringing him back down to you. He let loose a dark rumble in his throat as you guided his lips back to yours.
Montgomery couldn’t think straight.
You’d already fried his brain with that kiss, surprising him into silence, but now….
Now all he could think about was getting your skin against his and drawing more of those addictive sounds out of you.
He couldn’t believe it.
Of course, Monty knew he wanted you. He wanted you in all ways you were willing to give him. And fuck, he was going to take you on a date.
At the beginning, he’d been worried labels, expectations. And fuck he was still worried about fucking things up some way, but the way you were looking at him. He’d only seen you look at him like that in his dreams.
He knew you liked him. He’d suspected. No, hoped you had when he managed to sort through his own feelings. But you’d never- he never thought you would-
Montgomery didn’t know you could like him as much as he did you.
The bassist was in over his head, drowning in your sweet scent and how you arched into his wondering hands. A moan of encouragement and bite his lower lip had his hips rolling into yours. You paused a moment, effectively giving him a heart attack, afraid he went too far.
An agonizingly slow breath and he felt your heel dig into his back, drawing him back to you and returning the action with a whimper.
“Cher,” Montgomery dragged his sharp canine down the slope of your neck. “Fuck.”
A kiss to your collarbone and he latched on, nibbling, and sucking experimentally at the skin. The rockstar was rewarded by another delicious whine. Roughly, Montgomery dragged you to him, hands slipping beneath the thin fabric of your shirt, and began pushing up.
A question.
You sucked in a sharp breath, pushing back just enough to jerk the tee-shirt over your head. The sight alone made him drool.
The bassist watched as a brilliant red blush bloomed across the newly exposed skin. He must’ve stared like an open-mouthed idiot too long because you soon folded your arms over your chest. Embarrassment burned into your cheeks.
“D-Don’t stare like that.”
He couldn’t stop his wicked smirk. “Just admirin’ the view, baby.” A gentle kiss to your lips. “Ya ain’ got nothin’ to be embarrassed of.”
Another kiss, then another, and your arms were back around his neck. With care, Monty brushed along the edges of your bra, exploring, and teasing with his fingertips. His lips soon followed, making your head loll backward.
A sharp nip and you pressed your hand to your mouth to silence the whimper.
Fuck.
“Don’t be quiet,” He growled, running his tongue over the bite. “I wanna hear ya, cher. Lemme hear ya.”
Nails dug into his shoulders as continued to kiss his way down the hollow of your breasts, brushing against the fabric of your bra.
“Monty…”
“Ats my girl.”
He’d just made it to the band of your shorts when you jerked him up, fingers tight in his hair, and crushed your lips into his. A moan bubbled free of his raw throat, and shuddered as your fingers slipped beneath his sweatshirt.
You were going to kill him.
Without a second thought, Monty ripped the fabric over his head and pressed you into the ground.
Fuck, you felt so good against him.
A roll of your hips and he melted into you, hands wondering anywhere he could grab.
****
However, he came crashing back to reality when he felt you stiffen and pushed him away from the hickey he had been making on your hip. “Somethin’ wrong, baby?”
You weren’t looking at him and all the color had drained from your face. Following your gaze, he came face to face with small, metal spider creature. The both of you froze as the robot’s white eyes glowed, a red light blinking between them. With a clack of the tiny cymbals in its hands, white faded to black, and it just stared at the two of you with a wide grin.
You swallowed and the creature tilted its head toward you. Montgomery’s lip curled into a snarl, fingers tightening into the flesh of your hip as the creature switched its attention to him.
A sudden clang of its cymbals and it began to scurry away.
A flash and the rockstar lashed out, punching the robot into the nearest wall.
It took a second for your brain to catch up with what happened. But when it did you jerked into action. Montgomery was already on his feet, crouched in front of the motionless heap of metal crumbled on your floor. Cautiously, he poked it.
No movement.
How the fuck had the thing even got in here-
Your stomach dropped. That thing had been here with you. The whole fucking time.
Monty deflated and turned to you with a relieved smile. “See ya ain’ crazy.”
You couldn’t stop the laugh from bubbling free of your chest.
It all got cut short, when a flash of silver sliced into the bassist’s cheek and neck. Pure horror locked you into place as red splattered across the wall.
The robot launched itself back toward the rockstar and you saw red. With an animalistic growl, you knocked the creature to the side with your foot and stomped it into the floor for good measure. You couldn’t feel the metal slice into your foot but did see the trail you carried as you grabbed your metal bat from the counter. All you could see was Monty’s blood and hear his curses. Everything else turned into staticky white noise.
It twitched and you smashed the bastard into pieces, until the creepy stare was gone.
With a satisfied kick to the pile of junk, you shoved your tangled hair away from your face. “Fuckin’ tinker toy.” Then you all but pounced on the rockstar, knocking away his hands to inspect the damage.
“Babe-I’m alrigh’, calm-“
The little bastard had cut into his neck deep. Not deep enough to kill him, but the thought had you shaking in place.
W-what if it had done what it was supposed to do? It obviously meant to kill him-
No, no, can’t down that path just yet.
“We gotta go to the hospital.”
Montgomery snorted with an eyeroll, “For a cut on the cheek?”
You glowered, “No, for cutting your fuckin’ neck. Monty, I can see things that I’m not supposed to hanging out.” His first instinct was of course to grab his neck, but you knocked his hand away just as fast. “Don’t touch it. It’ll get infected. God knows where the hell it’s been.”
“In yer place, duh-“ You pinched his arm, “Owww! The hell woman!”
“Not the time, Gator.”
One minute you were rocking his world, the next you were terrorizing him. The rockstar glared at your retreating back, until he caught sight of the shiny trail you were leaving. It was then he saw the limp in your step and blood steadily dripping from your foot.
You pressed his shirt to the wound, cringing as he hissed. “Yer foot-“
“I’m fine compared to you.” After looking around wildly, you snatched your keys from under the couch, pulled on your discarded shirt, and hobbled to him, offering your hand. “C’mon, we gotta go.”
Monty rolled his eyes, “I ain’ goin’. It’s fine. Ya got duct tape?”
“You need stitches.” You ground out, “We’re going to-“
“I don’ know who the hell is this “we” ya keep talkin’ about-“
“Me and my fuckin’ dumbass boyfriend!”
You took advantage of his obvious surprise to start pulling him to his feet. Next thing he knew, you’d bullied him into the car, and he was on his way to the closest hospital. You probably thought it’d been the shock of the whole murderous robot situation that had him suddenly go mute.
Nope.
What could he think about the whole drive to the hospital, holding a bloody shirt to his neck?
That you had called him your boyfriend.
Like the fuckin’ sap you’d turned him into.
Deep down, you knew you were right in your judgment to drag Montgomery to seek medical attention. But you only wished you would’ve put more thought into how it would all appear.
Realization hadn’t dawned on you as you checked him in. Not even when you padded behind him as a clearly exhausted nurse with the name Sheila on her name tag as she pulled him straight into the back, placed him on a heart monitor and blood pressure cuff, and got set up for stitches.
No, this brilliant epiphany of yours occurred when said nurse looked at the two of you, pen in hand and paper ready, and asked one simple question. “You guys got a knife kink, or what?”
You choked and Monty wheezed, nearly buckling over in his laughter.
Sheila quirked a brow, “Really, I don’t care or judge. Just need to know how you two got cut up.”
You gasped for air, clearing your tight throat. “I’m fine-“
“Ma’am, I can see the tendons in your foot.”
Cue your pause and your gaze jerked downward. Damnit. She wasn’t lying. There was a deep gash sliced into the bottom of your foot that you had completely ignored. That combined with the fact that you had run in barefoot with the shirtless rockstar who was also cut up….
Your gaze rolled to the ceiling as Monty’s chuckles continued.
What could you say? A tiny clown robot had cut you both up while you were making out on your floor?
Oh yeah. Real believable.
With a grimace, you bit your lip and nodded your head. Sheila didn’t question further as she filled out the form in hand.
“I’ll go ahead and tell the girls out front to sign you in too.”
Another bob of your head and you rubbed your forehead.
“Be sure to tell ‘em, she’s my girlfriend.”
Sheila arched a brow and your glared sliced into the smirking rockstar, looking all too pleased for half his neck to be cut open. With a shrug of her shoulders, your nurse nodded and slid the dividing curtain closed, telling someone to get some X-Rays while the doctor prepared.
Montgomery practically oozed self-satisfaction with his sharp toothed grin. “That is wha’ ya said, ain’ it, baby?”
You should’ve let the damned robot kill him.
Lucky for Monty, people soon filed in to get to work just as he had caught you eyeballing the cords hooking him to the monitor.
Somehow, he doubted it was out of curiosity.
But that was where his fun ended, and torture began. Soon after the images had been taken, the doctor swept in with an equally tired expression and hair in a messy bun. With a small grin, she took the time to shake both your hands, then unveiled the suture tray. Plenty of needles cluttered the tray along with numerous packages of sutures.
The bassist grinned, caressing your ticking jaw, “Oh babe, tha’ don’ look good. Ya wan’ me to hold yer hand?”
He was clearly enjoying himself when the doctor chuckled. “Oh no, Mister Montgomery. This one is for you.”
The smile got slapped clear off his face and you smirked. Taking advantage of his silence, you reached out to slide a hand tantalizingly down his bare arm. “Oh honey, you want me to hold your hand?”
The doctor didn’t even have the decency to hide her snort of amusement.
Montgomery may have had a reason of not wanting to go to the hospital. An embarrassing one.
He was no stranger to breaking bones and being on the receiving end of a beating in an alleyway. But he’d rather drop dead then have a needle be near him.
Which is exactly what the lunatic doctor was trying to shove into his neck.
“M-Mister Montgomery, if you don’t stay still, I can’t properly numb the area.”
Thankfully, you hadn’t seen the shaking of his hands and the cold sweat gathering on his brow. But Monty knew it wouldn’t be long before he was caught.
Maybe he should’ve just told you.
But hell, you’d already had to save him once tonight.
Fuck.
He was the one supposed to protect you. Not the other way around.
With a deep soothing breath, he tilted his head to the side, determined to stare at the bland curtains blocking them off from another room. Monty bit his tongue and clenched his eyes shut. But like every other time, the rockstar jerked away at the last moment.
The doctor sighed as she dropped her arms to her sides. “Maybe it would be best to let you go to surgery. You’d be put to sleep-“
“But they’ d do that with a needle, right?” You questioned, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.
Damnit. Montgomery visibly cringed. You did notice.
“There would be a needle involved, while inserting the IV. But once successfully into the vein, the needle is removed, and medication would be administered to ease him to sleep.”
You nodded as your gaze finally landed on him. “Does that sound better?”
Fuck a needle was a needle. He clenched his fists, and the heart monitor above began alarming. If he hadn’t been a fucking fool and let you talk him into this, he would’ve just slapped some tape on it and call it a day, like he always had.
“Could you give us a minute?”
Your warm fingers brushed against his hand as the doctor nodded with a small smile. “Sure thing, just let me know when you’re ready.”
Once she exited the room, the air became stagnant between the two of you. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you as he clenched his jaw.
You squeezed his still clenched fist. “There a reason you didn’t tell me why you didn’t want to come to the hospital?”
Monty swallowed dryly. “Oh yea’, real attractive. First, ya had to save my ass. Then, ya could find out how big of a pansy I am-“
Your groan cut off his grumbling. “Monty-“
“Don’t fuckin’ Monty me.”
Silence followed and honestly, he would’ve liked it better if you just would have yelled at him. You didn’t however and it was killing him. After what felt like an eternity, he felt your warm fingers graze his bandaged cheek, prompting him to finally look at you.
You were giving him that damned smile that immediately had the butterflies swarming in his stomach. With a small chuckle, you pressed a kiss to his sweaty forehead and brushed your nose against his.
“I didn’t see it that way.” Another kiss to his cheek. “I froze the whole fuckin’ time and was only able to move after you got hurt.”
A small growl escaped him. “But still-“
You groaned, rubbing your forehead. “Monty, you gotta get it sewed up.” He didn’t budge and you deflated. “You want to go to surgery-“
“Hell no!” The bassist snapped, making you jerk back and give him your best scowl. “Don’ look at me like that-“
“What can I do to help you?”
That made him pause. You were awfully good at distracting him… Oh like hell, he’d ask you to hold his fucking hand.
“Wanna strip-“
“Want to leave here with only two cuts?”
Finally, his comfortable smirk spread across his lips, “Ya asked~”
A sudden idea hit you and a fierce blush spread across your cheeks, “I got an idea.”
That’s how he ended up staring at you for the hour and a half it took to get his neck stitched up. Instead of gawking at the damned curtain, the two of you just talked, like you always did. Montgomery just had to be warned a few times not to move so much. As long as you kept him distracted like the fuckin’ sap he was, the procedure went off without a hitch.
Before he knew it, he was done and bandaged up. Then it was your turn. The doctor paused and glanced up at you, “This is gonna hurt like hell where the foot is so sensitive. You might want to brace yourself.”
He didn’t give you an opportunity to ask before he slid behind you and pulled you into his hold with his legs on either side of you. Almost instantly you leaned and grabbed the arm he braced across your chest.
Monty brushed his lips across your ear. “I got ya.”
It was only when he finally his phone buzz in his pocket that he realized he missed the whole day at work and hadn’t bothered letting anyone know any different. Montgomery had been just about to reach and answer the text, when you clamped down on his arm.
Fuck Fazbear.
And he held you just that much tighter.
Once the two of you got back to your apartment, the adrenaline had long left you and left a tired, limping mess in its wake. The day was long gone, and night was only minutes from approaching. You sent Montgomery to the shower first to get the river of dried blood off him and approached the destroyed robot, metal bat in hand.
Slowly, you crouched in front of the pile and carefully began to poke around in the remains. What you thought you’d find, you don’t know. But it was only after shuffling the leg pieces to the side did you notice the white in the robot’s eyes back on.
A cold chill ran down your back as you picked up the head. It was no bigger than your palm and thankfully, it didn’t take long to notice the latch on the back. A push of a button and the metal slid away to reveal what looked like a camera chip.
A beep sounded and you jumped.
“Self-destruct initiated. In five-“
You fumbled trying to get the chip out.
“Four, three-“
Finally, it slid out and dropped into your palm.
“Two-”
You’d just thrown your door open and managed to launch the damned thing as far away as possible.
“One. Goodbye.”
It exploded mid-air and shrapnel rained down, tinkling against the pavement.
“The hell are you doing?!” Rough palms jerked you away from the door and back into the warm confines of your apartment. Montgomery slammed the door shut, towel hitched around his waist, “Wha’ in the hell exploded like the fuckin’ Fourth of July?!”
You swallowed, staring at the tiny chip, turning it gently with your fingernail. “The robot did.” On the back, lightly marked on its surface was initials.
Your blood ran cold.
“Cher?” Montgomery cocked a brow. “Ya oka-“
You clamped a hand over your mouth and bolted to the bathroom. It didn’t take long for the sounds of you being sick to reach the rockstar’s ears.
He cringed, beginning to make his way to you when he spotted the small purple square on the floor. In your rush, you had dropped the evidence. Monty picked it up and turned it, until he saw just why you had gotten sick.
W.F.
William Fazbear.
Chapter 18: Surprise, Again
Summary:
Blood, tears, and break-ins.
Notes:
I'm baaaccckkkkkkk.
I forced myself to sit down and write through this rough patch. I haven't proofread it and it is completely raw, but I didn't want to make anyone wait a minute longer. This was hard for me to write, ain't going to lie, but I feel it was the most realistic, story direction for this to take. Purely for plot and setting the stage.
I plan to come back and proofread, but later.
A side note: I always write happy endings.
Trigger Warnings-This chapter takes a dark turn although it's never explicitly said, there are heavy hints of suicide. Panic attacks are mentioned and described at the beginning of the chapter. I will be adding them accordingly to the story tags.No more rose-colored glasses folks.
I hope you all enjoy and I want to say thank you for your continued support.
Happy reading!
Chapter Text
This wasn’t your finest moment.
Bile stung your throat as you clutched the sides of the toilet.
That thing, that robot, had been in your apartment for who knows how long. That enough would’ve been enough to put you on edge, but it had a chip.
A fuckin’ chip with the bastard’s damn initials on it.
Despite how preoccupied you found yourself, vomiting like the exorcist herself, the mental image of the blinking red light between the robot’s eyes would not leave you.
You weren’t the brightest bulb in the pack, but even you knew what the universal sign of recording in progress looked like.
As you slept.
Showered.
Ate.
Jumped in fear.
Oh god, you and Monty…
Mother fuckin’ Fazbear got a damned show out of you.
With a defeated groan, you pressed your sweaty forehead against your arm, breathing through your nose to try and ground yourself.
Really, why were you so surprised? Montgomery and everyone else had practically spelled it out for you just what you were getting yourself into. But you were so damned stubborn and desperate, you waved it off.
“Feel better?”
If Fazbear was that determined, what would be next?
Would there be more of those things?
What would be next?
“Cher?”
Oh god. What had you done?
You pissed off a deranged billionaire with no limits on how far he’d go.
The air in your lungs turned into lead and chest began to burn. Desperately, you tried to breathe but was only met with resistance. It felt like sand was pouring down your throat, filling your chest, leaving no room for oxygen.
“Hey, hey, hey, Cher!” Calloused fingers jerked your chin upward, “C’mon babe, ya gotta breathe!”
You were trying damnit! You were! It was just so hard. There wasn’t any air- your chest- it wasn’t- Why wouldn’t he just let you-
“Damnit woman!”
Rough hands snatched you around the waist and hauled you upward.
But fuck you still couldn’t breathe-
Pinpricks of ice raining down on your too hot skin, jolted the weight pressing down on your chest free.
Finally, you were able to take a deep, soothing inhale. One, then another, then another, until the burning in your lungs eased.
With another greedy gulp of air, you opened your eyes and was met with the sight of a drenched Montgomery towering over you.
It took a second to realize you were both standing in your shower, then another for you to once again feel the cold water pouring down on you. The hold he had on your waist tightened as you met his red gaze.
“Feel better?”
“Y-Yeah.” The rockstar arched a brow and you sighed, “I’m okay, I promise.”
He gave you a light squeeze, then turned the shower off. Shakily, he helped you out on wobbly legs, then snagged a towel off a nearby shelf and dropped it on your head.
The rockstar gave you wide birth, propping against the sink as he burned holes into the floor. He made no attempt to dry himself off or to remove the now saturated towel still around his hips.
You bit your lip, taking in the rigid line to his shoulders.
What could you say? Thank you? You’re sorry for freaking out? You’re sorry for not being strong enough? You bit your lip harder to fight back the burning in your eyes.
Like hell you’d cry on top of that.
“I’m sor-“
“Don’ ya dare.” He grit, fingers curling into tight fists. “Don’ ya fuckin’ dare say yer sorry.”
“But-“
“I fuckin’ did this!” Monty roared as his fiery gaze snapped to you, “I knew better! I dragged ya into this-“
“I knew-“
“But did ya?!” Came his growled reply, gritting his teeth. “Who the fuck would think this is real?! I did this! I knew better-“
“I’m a grown ass woman!” You stalked over and shoved a finger into his firm chest. “You told me and I chose-“
“Ya chose fuckin’ wrong.”
You reeled backward as though he’d slapped you. Hell, he wished you would hit him, maybe it’d knock the sour taste out of his mouth.
Monty guessed you could call it a wake-up call. Contracts and money were one thing, but the reality of what was happening had come crashing down on him the moment he found you in the bathroom. Snooping, yeah, he’d expected that. Bugging your car? Possibly.
None of that could hurt you, but this…..
That robot had been following you, recording you even, and it’s first reaction to being confronted had been to slice his fuckin’ neck.
What if that’d been you? What if you would’ve found it and him not there?
What if it’d been your neck?
Your blood?
Montgomery swallowed roughly and the stitches in his neck pulled at the action. It was all because of him. If you’d never met him, then you wouldn’t be in this mess.
All because he liked you-
“I did not.” You snarled, teeth bared and hands balled into fists. “If this is about me freaking out-“
His rueful laugh cut you short. “I’d be more worried if ya hadn’-“
“I’m fine!”
“Cher-“
“I’m fine! It was just a lot-“
“Yer fine?!” Montgomery snapped, “Did ya forget abou’ the robot?! My neck?! Ya havin’ a panic attack?! Yer not fine! None of this is fine!”
If Fazbear was willing to do this just because he liked you, what would happen next? The rockstar’s chest tightened.
God, he’d been so hung up on you that he had failed to see the bigger picture. Even in the damn ER getting sown up. If it hadn’t been for him, none of this would’ve happened.
Roxanne was right. He had been up your ass.
“I can handle it-“
“I can’t, cher,” Montgomery couldn’t look at you. Couldn’t stand to see the hurt he knew would show on your face. Not now. “I can’t know I’m the reason ya get hurt.”
Damn it. Damn him. Damn Fazbear. Damn it all.
The weight of his words settled between the two of you in silence.
It would’ve been better if he kept yelling, would’ve hurt less, because then it would’ve been out of anger. Your chest began to burn again, but it wasn’t from lack of air.
Without another word or even a glance your way, the rockstar left the bathroom, leaving you in the blood tinted puddle of water.
Your front door opened and closed, and only then did you let your hot, angry tears fall.
Freddy Fazbear did not like surprises.
They had at one time been a favorite of his. His father, Henry, took pride in the small and big surprises he could give to Freddy. Whether it be a trip to the park, or the karaoke set his dad had made just for him on his fifth birthday.
Those were the ones that Freddy treasured and kept close to his heart. Those small moments were what fueled his never-ending smile.
Happiness became scarce after his father’s accident and his grandfather took him in. The first few years had been hard. Surprises turned sour, under his grandfather’s direction. Surprise, his prized karaoke machine vanished. Surprise, one by one mementoes of his father soon disappeared. Surprise, no more singing.
William Fazbear ruled his house, like he did his business, with an iron fist. And there was no room in his home for a dreamer. Especially, his grandson. He would be heir to his empire, he didn’t have time to sing silly songs or learn ridiculous dances.
Those days were spent in offices. Learning “tricks” of the trade. “Tips” on to success. Days with a permanent chill seeping into Freddy’s bones.
But then, surprise, he made a friend.
Bonnie.
Bonnie was a spot of light on those dreary visits to the office. His father, an owner of a very successful robotics company, had recently brokered a deal with his grandfather. They often spent time locked away behind closed doors, looking over plans for their newest invention or how they could expand. While they worked, of course the kids would play. Unlike Freddy, Bonnie’s love for music had been nurtured and at the tender age of eight, he was one of the best musicians Freddy ever heard. Their friendship was approved of by William, it was good business and kept the two of them occupied while the adults talked.
Well, until Freddy’s teen years, when he finally stood up to his grandfather and declared he was going to start a band with Bonnie. It was seen as a child’s whimsy and immediately crushed, under William’s heel.
Or so he thought.
Fun fact. William Fazbear was a heavy sleeper. Very heavy.
So, in the middle of the night, there would be no one to catch Freddy as he climbed out his window. No one to stop him from chasing his dream. Then, surprise, the two of them picked up Chica and Roxanne, then to add icing to the cake, Monty.
The years spent with his friends, playing music anywhere they could, practicing in abandoned garages, were amazing.
But, surprise, all things must come to an end.
Bonnie, despite being the brightest and funniest person Freddy knew, always seemed to carry the weight of his world on his shoulders. He tried to hide it behind jokes and smiles, but Freddy knew better.
He’d seen the scars.
He should’ve seen it coming. Should’ve been there for him. Should’ve noticed the signs.
The sign.
Surprise. Bonnie taught Monty how to play the bass, insisting the band needed the extra zazzle.
Really, he was training his replacement.
One day his friends were all together and happy, then surprise, there was a gaping Bonnie-sized hole that never went away. Maybe it was the weight of what he missed that got Freddy in this mess. Maybe, he hoped, that if he could keep his friends from struggling, he could keep them happy. Keep them safe.
His grandfather wasn’t evil, just strict and money hungry. So when he offered a deal too good to be true and they were all struggling, he did what he thought was best.
If only Freddy knew, he’d walked them into the lion’s den and locked the door.
Now, that Bonnie-shaped shadow haunted him. Stalked behind him with his every move. Questioning every step. Keeping Freddy’s head on swivel and ears perked. Keeping Freddy digging, hunting, grasping at straws for their freedom.
He’d read their contracts so many times, he had them memorized. They were iron-clad, of course. William Fazbear would have nothing less. There had been nothing hidden within the pages that would cause his friends harm.
But years had made him forget his grandfather’s “tricks”.
There were several ways to keep people loyal without ink and paper, and William Fazbear knew them all.
Freddy liked to think “surprises” no longer affected him.
But leave it to Montgomery Gator to prove him wrong by showing up on his doorstep.
Freddy had a modest one-bedroom apartment that had squeaky floorboards and a non-stop drip from the bathroom sink. But, compared to the icy hell of the Fazbear estate it was heaven.
He was accustomed to the noise of neighbors, traffic, and the persistent trickle of water in the background.
None of that prepared him for the sudden, loud appearance of his friend, all but bull dozing through his front door and into his bedroom.
“FazFuck!! Wake the hell up!”
Was his oh-so gentle wake up call, jolting him out of bed to stare at the now pacing bassist. The singer blinked, trying to determine what to deal with first, how Monty got in or what happened to have him come here.
Neither is what snapped the singer awake. Oh no, it was the line of stitches lining his friend’s neck.
“The hell?!!!” Monty stopped and stared, shocked into utter silence as Freddy snatched him by the collar of his shirt. “What the fuck happened to you Montgomery?! You’re gone all day! No call! No show! Not even a text to any of us and you show up like this?!!”
Admittedly, out of their circle-um-square of friends, they weren’t the closest. But Freddy liked to think they were close enough that Montgomery saw Freddy as a shoulder to lean on.
“Uhm-“
“W-What did you do? Why didn’t you tell me?! Hell, any of us! We could’ve helped you-“
“Hol’ up! I didn’ do this ta myself, ya dumb fuck!”
Freddy deflated and gazed to the ceiling. To pray in gratitude or for strength he wasn’t sure. With a sigh, he dropped his death grip on the bassist’s shirt, and let him drop into a heap in the floor.
“Thank God.”
Montgomery snarled, rubbing his back as he pushed himself onto his feet. “If I did it, ya moron, I’d no’ be here.”
Well, he did have a point. But it was three in the morning, not prime time for thinking rationally.
“Why are you here?” The singer tilted his head, taking careful note of how his friend seemed even more tense. “How’d you even get in?”
“Key under the mat.”
“I never told you-“
“Rox, she’s a blabber mouth when drunk.”
“How does she know? I only told Chica-“ At the bassist’s blank stare, Freddy realized he answered his own question. “Oh.”
Neither looked away as the silence stretched on.
“Soo,” Freddy prompted.
“Ya sleep in Fazbear merch? The fuck? Ya loser-“
“Monty! The hell is going on?”
Montgomery quirked a sharp grin, “Damn Fazbear, neva knew ya had such a dirty mouth-“
“THAT’S IT.”
Was it childish? Yes. Should he have maybe considered other options? Also, yes.
But at three in the fucking morning with Montgomery Gator hounding him over his pajamas, it seemed like the reasonable option to tackle the bassist and start throwing punches.
“Ya hit like a damned bitch.”
“Your face says otherwise.”
The two rockstars were now sitting the floor, backs propped against Freddy’s bed frame as the two wiped their faces. The singer now had a split lip and a black eye at minimum, maybe a cracked rib from the hitch in his breathing, and Monty had a matching shiner and broke nose.
It seemed to be hours they sat in the stagnant silence of his apartment, other than the steady drip in the background. Neither one acknowledging or apologizing to the other in the darkness in his bedroom.
Damn bastard had broken his lamp in the scuffle.
Freddy sighed and lolled his head to the side to stare at his friend. Montgomery was still pointedly avoiding his stare. Another sigh. “Going to start talking or going to keep acting like you didn’t just break into my apartment?”
“Is it breakin’ in if I had the key?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Monty!”
Montgomery deflated, tilting his head to now stare at his water-stained ceiling. “I left her.”
“Who-What are you talking about-“
“I fuckin’ left her standin’ there in the damn bathroom, Freddy!” The bassist gritted his teeth, pointedly ignoring the singer’s look of realization. He scrubbed his calloused hands over his raw face, “I fuckin’ screwed up. I shouldn’ ‘ave tried- I knew better- I jus’ didn’ think the ole fart would….”
Of course it had to do with his grandfather. The possibilities were endless, honestly, and William had yet to cease in “surprising” Freddy where his friends were concerned. But he’d never seen Monty look so…so defeated.
“Monty,” Gently, Freddy rested his hand on the bassist’s shoulder. Montgomery was still refusing to look at him, but Freddy pressed forward. “How about you start from the beginning?”
Monty swallowed roughly.
It wouldn’t have surprised Freddy if his friend cussed him out and stomped out of his apartment. It’d line up with Montgomery-typical-behavior to a tee.
Surprise to him.
Montgomery fuckin’ Gator finally looked at him, after knocking him on his ass and storming into his home, and sighed, “Alrigh’, Freddy.”
After they sat there, Freddy listening and Montgomery recounting the events of the last few days, did the singer comprehend the magnitude of what happened. It wasn’t a secret that William had a special kind of hatred for Montgomery, but what Monty was telling him….it went beyond what he knew his grandfather was capable of.
It wasn’t money hungry or manipulative, no this was…
It was…Evil.
William Fazbear was a lot of things, but evil?
It crossed a line Freddy didn’t even know existed. Montgomery could have been killed. You could have been killed. Obviously, the robot could have done it easily. There was no boundaries set in place to stop it. It’d stalked you, watched and recorded you, and then attacked Montgomery, aiming to maim and kill.
And robots only know what their programmers do. Which according to the purple chip that Monty had laid in his palm, belonged to none other than the man he thought couldn’t sink any lower to what he’d do.
Surprise.
Chapter 19: The Power of Friendship...Sort Of
Summary:
Friendship, yelling, and plenty of cussing.
Notes:
Hello all!
I'm trying to keep these churning out so I don't lose my momentum again.
Low key, I kept Linkin Park's new song Good Things Go on repeat while writing this. It may have influenced the tone a bit.Montgomery Gator and friends/not really acquaintances centric.
As always, I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Text
A loud bang echoed from his left and Monty shoved his head under his borrowed pillow. Busted nose be damned, he just wanted to go back to sleep-
“Morning, Montgomery!” Sang the menace himself, despite the narrowed glare shot at him. Freddy remained all smiles and rainbows, cup in one hand and coffee pot in the other. “Coffee? Or do you like energy drinks like Roxanne? I think I still have some stashed from her last visit.”
The rockstar scrubbed his sore face with a groan. Everything hurt like hell and felt like he’d stepped in front of a damn semi. From the throbbing muscles to the sting of his stitches pulling tight in his neck.
Fuckin’ Freddy.
A stiff stretch and a grumbled curse got the rockstar on his feet. By the time he made it to the kitchen, Montgomery found Freddy, head still shoved into a cabinet, rambling a mile a minute about drink options. The bassist sighed and filled up his designated green mug with coffee.
He wasn’t big on the stuff, but you sure as hell did. Only thing you could drink him under the table on.
“Montgomery?”
Now that he thought about it, you did tend to like bitter things-
“Montgomery, um…”
The scalding hot liquid overflowed, spilling onto his hand and bare foot.
“Shit!”
Freddy sighed, wordlessly passing a towel to his friend. With a snarl, Monty snatched it from his loose grip, refusing to make eye contact. Although not a word had been spoken, the look on Freddy’s face spoke volumes.
The singer cleared his throat, sipping from his own cup, “Have talked to her?”
Montgomery grit his teeth, scrubbing furiously where the coffee had spilled. “Why the fuck would I?”
Freddy shrugged casually, “Just thought from how upset you seemed last night-“
“What we talked abou’ las’ night never happened, got it Fazfuck?” He tried hard to ignore the knowing glint in his friend’s gaze and took out his anger by squeezing the half empty coffee cup, “She’s better off.”
“Well…”
A growl bubbled free, “She is! I’ve been nothin’ but trouble for her-“
“I’m not disagreeing with you. But…”
“But the fuck what?!”
You were better off.
You had to be.
The old fart would see him steering clear of you and he’d lose interest, thinking Monty had moved on. It’d be chalked up to a fleeting crush. Nothing more. William would leave you alone.
He would.
He fucking had to.
“It’s your decision, Montgomery. You did what you thought was best. I can’t say I’d do any different in your position…” Freddy rubbed the back of his neck. “But what are you going to do?”
Monty paused mid-drink, furrowing his brows. “The fuck ya mean. I done did-“
“When you see her.” The cup cracked and Freddy winced. “She may not be your handler, but she does still work there. Are you just going to avoid her? Act like you don’t know her?”
The tightness in his chest turned into a painful throb.
God, why did Freddy have to make sense?
With a deep breath, Monty loosened his death grip on the defenseless cup and swallowed dryly. When the fuck did he turn into such a wuss? He could do this. Hell, he had gone out of his way to avoid you in the beginning, he could do it again.
Just a few months, you’d be gone, safe, and far away from the damn Pizza Plex.
Then maybe….
Maybe what? You’d run into his open arms? After all this?
After he left you like that?
“We’re all in this together, you know.” Freddy’s shoulder knocked against his, leaning against the counter. “I know it’s been rough, but you do have friends that are here for you. We’re not going anywhere.”
Montgomery didn’t bother to hide his snort. “Did ya get that outta damn fortune cookie?”
“Actually, I read it out of one of Roxanne’s self-help books. Very insightful, it was called The Power of Friendship.”
“Of fuckin’ course.”
“I could see if she’d let you borrow it-“
“Not a chance in fuckin’ hell, Fazbear.” Monty rolled his eyes and Freddy snickered. Awkwardly, the bassist cleared his throat, gaze firmly fixated on the ground. “Thanks, Freddy for…ya know.”
“You’re welcome, Monty. But you’re on your own with Roxanne and Chica.”
The bassist glared, “Fuckin’ thanks.”
Freddy beamed, “Fucking welcome. Now hurry up, we got to get to the girl’s place early so Roxanne can cover up these bruises, since someone decided breaking and entering was the appropriate thing to do when he wanted to talk about feelings.”
“Now hol’ the fuck up-!”
“Ow! The fuck, Rox!”
Roxanne rolled her eyes, ignoring the bassist’s growl and continued to blend the concealer into the bruised skin. “Quit whining, you big baby. Play stupid games and you get stupid prizes.”
Montgomery huffed and crossed his arms across his chest.
They had shown up bright and early to Roxanne and Chica’s apartment, immediately being guided into their kitchen where a makeup station had been set up. Judging from their lack of surprise, Montgomery guessed Freddy had already divulged what happened.
But of course, Freddy didn’t tell them all of it. Monty had hopped up onto a stool as directed, completely unsuspecting, only to come face to face with a fuming keytarist.
Roxanne’s upper lip had curled as she turned his head to the side, giving his stitch line a poke. Her gaze narrowed with a low rumble, “You better get to talking and do it fast if you know what’s good for you.”
For a moment, he considered telling her to fuck herself, just because of her attitude. But a brief glance over her shoulder revealed Chica, looking like the grim reaper with her eyes glowing red.
For someone who hated talking about feelings, Montgomery found himself retelling every detail of what happened for the second fucking time. And like hell if he’d do it again. It was bad enough to have the entire ordeal seared into his brain, but having to retell it-
All he could see was you standing there-
Roxanne clicked her tongue and tilted her head, admiring her work. “This should work.” With a satisfied nod, she turned her attention to Chica. “How’s it comin’?”
“Almost done!” She chirped, “Some powder and he should be set!”
The keytarist nodded, returning her gaze to bassist’s neck. “Like hell makeup could fix that. Maybe a choker. I think I got one that could fit.”
“Ug’, really-“
“You got any other bright ideas?!” She snapped. “We got to go and you can’t show up looking like that unless you want more questions-“
“Get the damn thing, Rox.” Was his growled reply. The last thing he wanted to do was answer more questions. Just a break, a small one, hell just a few hours would work. “I’ll wear it.”
Roxanne paused then, stopping to really look at him. Montgomery was about to ask what her damn problem was, when she released a heavy sigh and ran a hand through her tangled hair.
“Listen-I-you-ugh,” Another sigh and she squared her shoulders. “We’ll get through this and leave that damn bastard in our dust. Don’t give up, you fucking moron. Because I’m not doing this mushy talk shit again for free. You wanna talk feelings get someone else.”
Monty couldn’t help the small smirk that quirked his lips. “Thanks, Rox.”
“Don’t get used to it fucker.”
“Wouldn’ dream of it.”
Thank fuck for Roxanne’s makeup skills, because no one gave him a second glance.
Yeah, the spiked choker she put him was a little uncomfortable, but with a thin bandage between it and the stitches, it was bearable.
The morning show went without a hitch and some of the kids even complimented his new accessory.
Plus, you’d been nowhere to be seen.
Monty didn’t know whether to be relieved or…
No, he was relieved. He was……
Damn it.
He’d known you’d become a big part of his everyday life, but didn’t realize just how big of a hole you left behind. This wasn’t like when you changed jobs. He couldn’t just make up an excuse to see you.
How many times he caught himself phone in hand, about to text you, was fucking ridiculous.
Even though he’d rather drop dead then admit it, his friends guided him through the day. One of them always seemed to be around the corner and each hour didn’t seem as long.
Finally, Montgomery allowed himself to take a deep breath when the evening show ended.
Halfway there. Just a few more hours and-
“Montgomery.”
Fuck.
With a cringe, the rockstar turned to see Elizabeth, arms crossed and lips pressed into a thin line.
“Lizzie.”
Elizabeth quirked a brow, “My office. Now.”
Double fuck.
Okay, maybe someone had noticed.
Her office door had no sooner closed than Elizabeth whirled on him, jabbing a finger at his neck and breathing fire. “The fuck is this?!”
Maybe if he played dumb-
“Don’t you dare,” She hissed, eyes narrowed. “We’re both in deep shit. The hell do you think you’re doing not showing up and then coming in with a bandage on your neck! You trying to get Fazbear here?! Because that’s how you get him here.”
Fucking-
“Damn it!” Montgomery bellowed, raking his hands through his hair. “I swear ta fuck if I gotta go over this again, Imma gonna lose my shit!” Elizabeth froze, wide eyed and mouth gaped as Monty snarled, “Listen good, ‘cause I ain’ talkin’ ‘bout this shit again!”
After he gave the short, not so sweet, censored version of what happened, Elizabeth crossed the room to give him some space. She didn’t give him that damned sympathetic look like Freddy or Chica, thank fuck. The manager simply sighed and rubbed her temples.
After a few deep breaths, she returned her steady gaze to the reddened rockstar, “Okay, so here’s what we’re going to do to smooth this over and prevent Fazbear from showing up on our doorstep. Because I know that’s the last thing any of us want. We won’t mention the killer robot part, but you were in an accident and you are very sorry-“
“THE HELL I AM-“
“Listen!” Elizabeth snapped, “I’m trying to help-“
“I think ya fuckin’ helped enough, ya fuckin’ cunt-“
“Montgomery Gator, now is not the time-“
“Don’ full name me, ya connivin’ bitch!”
“I know! I know! Okay! I’m sorry Monty! I am, I didn’t have a choice-“
A bitter laugh left his chest, “None of ya fuckers ever did-“
That seemed to be the final straw.
“He fucking threatened my kid, okay!!” Elizabeth roared, red tinting her face. “It was you or my fucking kid!”
Montgomery paused and blinked. “When the fuck ya get a kid?! I’ve neva seen one!”
“I’ve had a kid! Why the fuck do you think I don’t bring him here!?”
Almost against his will, the anger and fury began slowly melting away. Elizabeth’s chest heaved as she righted herself with a deep breath and attempted to smooth her disarrayed hair.
“Wha’s the kid’s name?”
The band manager’s gaze drifted downward, picking at the nonexistent lint on her skirt, “Gregory.”
Shit. She wasn’t lying
“How ol’ is he?”
“Eight.”
Monty rubbed the back of his neck. A part of him would never forgive Elizabeth, she’d been the start of it all. Whether she knew it or not, it’d been the beginning of his hell.
Lizzie rubbed her forehead and sighed, weariness radiating off her slumped form “Monty, for what it’s worth, I am sorry. I know what I did, and I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I can help now. I can’t fix it all, but I can try to make this easier. Please, let me help you.”
Montgomery clenched his jaw. He may not be her biggest fan, but knowing she had something…someone on the line too….
She’d gotten you out, before Fazbear could corner you. The bastard still got to you, but that wasn’t because of her.
“Fine.” Came his grumbled reply, “Wha’ ya need me ta do?”
At that Elizabeth cringed, now refusing to meet his narrowed gaze “You were in an accident,” He nodded, and she bit the inside of her cheek. “You’ll need to go to the clinic and get checked out-“
“Ya fuckin’ bitch, were ya even listenin-“
“If you don’t, he’ll think you’re hiding something.” The manager interrupted with a pointed look. “By having the clinic document your injuries, it’ll prove you have them and back up the story at his own facility.”
“But the fuckin’ robot-“
“Had a chip, you said,” At his reluctant nod, she continued, “That’s typical for some of our older model bots. They aren’t connected to the live feed. The new ones are directly synced into the network. But the older ones, their footage is saved on that chip and uploaded later. If you have the chip, there’s a chance he doesn’t know what happened yet and that’d be our chance to dust it under the rug. His next visit is scheduled for the unveiling of the new attraction, by then your neck should be fine.”
Montgomery grit his teeth. As much as he wanted to deny it, her idea might work. If anyone other than Freddy would know how the old man operated, it’d be Elizabeth.
But for fuck sakes. Pour salt in the fuckin’ wound.
“Fine.”
Chapter 20: Breathe
Summary:
Anger, tears, and support.
Notes:
Hello all!
As always I hope you enjoy and thank all of you for all your support!
Enjoy!
Chapter Text
You couldn’t begin to guess how long you’d been standing there.
Because of your pride, you would like to say it’d only been a few minutes, while you absorbed everything that had transpired. But it’d been long enough for your hair to begin to dry, and your feet had gone numb against the cold tile.
Embarrassing.
With a deep inhale, you swallowed roughly and finally noticed the blood that began to dry on your skin. A quick glance confirmed one of your stitches popped. Wonderful. Slowly, you checked the gash for any additional damage, when satisfied no more harm had been done, you took the first steps to the medicine cabinet to grab the first aid kit.
You flexed your fingers and set to work.
Unless you wanted to go back to the hospital, all you could do was reinforce the remaining sutures with gauze. Like hell you’d be back on their doorstep after being labeled with a knife kink.
The mindless task helped. It gave you something to concentrate on, something other than the blood still splattered in the living room.
Something other than the damned ache in your chest.
One more tug on the bandage around your foot and you were up, getting the mop and bucket out of the hallway closet. You were renting after all. It’d be your luck Jerry, your landlord, would choose that moment to come knocking.
Unfortunately, it took longer than you expected, and the repetitiveness allowed your mind to wander. And of course, where else would it go but a certain rockstar?
You huffed and lowered yourself onto your knees to scrub the small, dried pool of blood by hand. Clockwise. Counterclockwise. Dip in water. Splash of soap. Repeat. Thickly you swallowed, ignoring the rawness now stinging your fingers.
Repeat.
Repeat-
What had you been expecting really?
It’d not been enough. You’d not been enough-
No.
That wasn’t fair.
Montgomery was in a bad situation, one that you’d made worse. How could you be upset? It was selfish. It wasn’t just about you.
You ground your teeth, biting the side of your tongue as your eyes began to burn again, now using your knuckles to scrape away at the floor.
Damn him and damn your damn feelings.
“You chose fuckin’ wrong.”
It played like a broken record and each cycle brought a new wave of emotions.
Oh, you wanted to be angry. Angry that Monty had decided all on his fucking own what was best for you. Angry that he’d held you while you cried, stayed with you when you were scared, and had you convinced he’d be there for you.
Then the bastard turned and threw your choice in your face.
Maybe it had been a bad choice, but it’d been fucking yours.
Hell, you’d do it again in a heartbeat. And that fact scared you more than the killer robot and William combined.
With stiff, sore fingers, you wiped up the remainder of the evidence and poured the now brown water down the drain.
Once you picked up the rest of the apartment, you hesitantly glanced at your now cracked phone screen. When it’d broken, you weren’t sure, there’d been ample opportunity that was sure. Then, you finally saw the time.
How long had you been scrubbing?
A deep breath and you hobbled your way back to the bathroom to take a proper shower. Even if you didn’t sleep afterward, you couldn’t show up looking like this to work-
God, you’d have to see him, wouldn’t you?
A sniffle and you pulled the soiled shirt over your head, stepping into the steady stream of hot water. It soothed the ache from your muscles and washed the dried salt off your cheeks. It didn’t take you long to finish cleaning yourself off, but despite that, you remained standing in the now cooling spray of water, arms wrapped around yourself and eyes squeezed shut.
It’d be okay.
It would.
When did you have to leave the clinic?
You hardly ever had to leave. It was rare. Hell, the only time you usually did was when-
A whimper slipped past your chapped lips, no matter how hard you bit your bottom lip.
You were a grown woman that had a job. A job that you needed. A job that you would be done with in a few months. Then, you could leave Fazbear Hell behind.
Easy peasy. A few months.
It was just a crush. You’d had enough of those to know you’d be over this.
But why did it have to hurt so damned much?
A tear slipped down your cheek, and you decided to give yourself this one moment. Just this one to loosen the vice-grip you’d been shaking to maintain, since you heard that front door shut. Here where the water could wash away it all away and no one could see or hear. No one, but you would know.
Slowly, you lowered yourself to the shower’s floor with as much dignity as you could manage, and with a broken sob let it all out.
It was moments like this, you wished you were better with makeup. All things considered, there was only a hint of lingering redness around your eyes.
You managed to sleep a few hours, after scouring your bedroom and taping cardboard over the vent. It wouldn’t have been so bad if every little noise didn’t have you jumping awake, ready to run or swing the bat you put in bed with you.
It’d be enough. You’d run off less sleep before.
Before all-
No.
A deep breath and you began to check yourself over. Alright, scrubs on, phone and watch charged and ready, and hair up. No more time to delay the inevitable. You forced your hand not to shake as you grabbed your keys and locked the door behind you.
Easy peasy.
How could you have forgotten about the robots?
You never paid attention to their eyes before, but now it felt like they burned into you. But with your gaze fixed on your shoes, you made it to the clinic and once there everything else melted away.
Thankfully, it was Monday.
The patients remained cycling in and out, like a revolving door. You threw yourself into work, going non-stop to keep your hands and mind busy. When Eileen didn’t have you assisting in the care of the patient, you hopped up to clean empty beds and restock sparse supplies.
It helped and the day went by with a comfortable numbness engulfing you.
The only hitch came at lunch time, when the older nurse flipped the sign on the door. No patients. Everything clean and stocked. And just like that, the endless string of distractions were gone, and Eileen’s eyes were narrowed on you.
“Sit.”
Hesitantly, you nodded and accepted the seat next to her. You tried to maintain eye contact, but her gaze burned into you, and it felt like all your wounds were split open for her to see.
“Want to tell me what’s going on with you, sugar?”
“I’m fine-“
Eileen’s arched brow made the protest die on your lips. “I’m not the brightest bulb in the pack, but it’d take a blind man to not see that you’re limping. Why didn’t you call in sick?”
“I’m just sore.” You folded your hands to keep them still and licked your dry lips. “I stepped in some glass over the weekend and had to get stitches. They’re fine, just a little tender.”
It was an easy enough lie. Not like you could tell her you cut it open on a homicidal robot.
“Okay, I’ll believe that,” Eileen relented with a shrug and casually crossed her legs. That look in her eyes immediately made your chest tighten. “Wanna tell me where ole’ Romeo is then? It’s about time he comes and checks on you.”
You clenched your jaw, squeezing your hands together. You knew this would happen. No big deal. No big deal-
Either your mask had slipped, or Eileen’s could see right through it, because you saw the moment she softened and the light bulb went off above her head.
“I see.” Her warm, calloused hand closed over top of yours, squeezing gently. “You don’t have to tell me, but if you want to you can. Only if you want to though.”
“Thank you.”
The nurse gave you a warm grin, “You’re welcome, honey. How does rearranging the stock room sound?”
At that you couldn’t help but laugh. “Sounds good.”
“Alright, lets alphabetize the bandages first.”
You got part of the stock room organized by the end of lunch. Eileen had been a silent, but sturdy presence at your side. The two of you worked efficiently together, but had been purposefully slow so that you could stretch out the task if needed.
By the time the clinic reopened, you were ready to finish the shift. Maybe tomorrow you could slip off to the Daycare to see the boys. It’d keep you distracted and if you timed it with the evening concert, you would be in the clear.
Maybe it’d been Eileen or maybe Dr. Fox decided to be a petty, needy bastard, you weren’t sure, but you swore that man called for you every time you turned around.
You’d just finished wiping down the recently empty bed, when you found a certain eye-patch wearing doctor at the open curtain, “Oh lass, ye expertise are a needed.”
The expertise needed was an ace wrap. Subsequently, the trend continued for the next few hours as you hopped room to room.
A quick glance at the clock and a weight lifted off your shoulders. Almost closing time and freedom almost within reach. You’d made it without seeing him. If you could make it through today, feeling so raw and weighed down, you could make it through your contract. You’d be able to see him and it not hurt, eventually the pain and anger would numb into indifference and the Pizza Plex would be another notch to your employment belt.
You’d just rounded the corner, a small hop to your step with your new sparkling optimism and a small smile on your lips-
Eileen snatched you by the arm and yanked you to the side. From this new angle, you could see Dr. Fox at the foot of the bed in a now occupied room. “You don’t need to go in there.”
“Ow, motherfucker! Tha’ fuckin’ hurts!”
And just like that, you knew everything you needed to.
“Now, now, ain’ no need in a hollerin’ like that, I’m jus’ examinin’-“
“Examinin’my ass-“
“I don’ get paid nearly enough to be examin’ that-“
“Ain’ a thing wrong with my ass!”
“Wouldn’ know and don’ wanna know, ya menace-“
“Who the fuck, ya callin’ a menace, ya pirate wannabe-“
Eileen pinched the bridge of her nose, and you took a deep steadying breath. You could turn around. You should turn around. There were plenty of other patients to keep you occupied. All else fails, you could return to organizing bandages.
“If ya don’ quit pokin’ it, Imma rip out that other eye!”
“It’s infected ya, hooligan! Waya been doin’?! Cleanin’ it with swamp water!?”
“Who ya callin’ a hooligan-“
“I don’ see any other rockstar wannabe’s in here, do ya?”
Suddenly, your view was cut off by Eileen as she held you by the shoulders and met your wide eyes, “He’ll need help cleaning the wound and will probably order a shot. I can do both. It’s no problem, honey.”
And you wanted nothing more then to take her up on that. To turn tail and run, but a small part of your worried, if you ran now, would you just keep running?
Realistically, months was a long time to never see him. It’d happen eventually. It’s not even like you two had even technically been a couple…hell, you hadn’t even gone on a date.
It still hurt, but it didn’t take long to clean a wound. In and out.
You took a deep, steadying breath, “I can do it. Go ahead and see what shot he wants you to get. It’ll be faster if we tag team it.”
Eileen’s brows furrowed, “Are you sure, honey? You don’t have to step foot in that room-“
“My darlin’ harpy! I require yer assistance!” Both of you couldn’t help the exasperated eye roll. “An’ don’ forget the rabies shot! An’ the extra stingy antibiotic shot!”
For a moment, you met Eileen’s gaze and gave her a reassuring grin. “I’ll be fine.”
Judging from the look on her face, she wasn’t buying it but eventually nodded. “Alright, if you say so.”
One more glance, then the nurse took off to the medicine room, leaving you staring at the dreaded room.
It’ll be okay.
You’re okay.
You’ll be fine.
You stood to the side of the room to steady your breathing, before you pulled back the curtain and bit your tongue. Immediately, you came face to face with the two sneering men, Dr. Fox’s arms crossed over his chest and Montgomery sitting at the edge of the bed, baring his teeth.
“Waya talkin’ ‘bout shots?!”
Dr. Fox sighed,about to respond when his one eye landed on you. It didn’t take long for Montgomery’s attention to follow or for the color to drain out of his face.
Damn it. You shouldn’t have-
“Oh, lass, I had though’ I’d hollered fer-“
You gave a stiff nod. “You did. She went to get the shots. I’ll clean it.”
Montgomery had gone silent, red eyes locked on you. “Che-“
“Ya sure?” Foxy cut him off, glancing at the patient out of the corner of his eye. “I know yer busy.”
And at that moment, you knew that Eileen had told him something was going on. The only reason you’d been busy had been because of him. You swallowed and willed yourself to be steel as you turned your attention to Montgomery.
“I’m fine as long as you don’t care.”
The bassist blinked and rubbed the back of his neck. “Y-Yeah-Uhm-I mean-Tha’s fine….”
Foxy arched a brow. “Ya sure? I can do it fer ya.”
“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks doc.”
“Alrigh’ lassie, if ya say so,” The doctor patted your shoulder in passing. “Lemme know if ya need any help.”
A blur of tangled red hair streaked by you, and suddenly, it was just the two of you.
“Awful friendly, ain’ he?” Montgomery’s grumbled, eyes narrowed in the direction Foxy’s retreating back, “He yer new boyfriend somethin’?”
You blinked once, then twice, then it hit you like a wrecking ball.
The utter disbelief, the outrage, and the anger.
“The hell.” You snarled through clenched teeth. “You have a lot of fucking nerve. Is he my new boyfriend?! Really!? Fucking, really Monty?!”
“Cher-“
“Do not call me that!”
Silence descended between the two of you, neither willing to look away from the other. Monty’s glare burned into yours as he flexed his fingers. With a deep exhale out his nose, he broke eye contact and grumbled in his chest.
“Righ’. Sorry.”
Dryly, you swallowed. Barely twenty-four hours ago, you’d been so happy. Happy because of this ridiculous, hot headed, unreasonable rockstar. Your chest tightened and you could feel the oncoming hitch in your breathing.
Damn it. Not now. No, you refused to cry in front of him. Not him. Anyone, but Montgomery.
“How’s it goin’ lassie?”
You could’ve kissed Dr. Fox right then and there as he swept back into the room, cocky grin flashing and hands on his hips. Montgomery’s lip curled up in a growl and you caved into temptation.
“I’m going to help Eileen.”
And you ran.
By the time you burst into the medication room, you almost plowed over your coworker. She just managed to catch you by the shoulders as the door closed behind you and you dissolved into a hiccupping, sobbing mess.
Eileen didn’t miss a beat, wrapping you in a warm, motherly embrace. Gently, she stroked your hair and shushed you softly, until your sobs died into sniffles. God, you were pathetic.
Embarrassment and shame flooded your cheeks, apology on your lips.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, sugar. A good cry can do wonders. Now you stay here, and I’ll take care of it.”
She had just released you, ready to open the door, when you snagged her wrist. “Not a shot. Don’t give him a shot.” Silently, Eileen arched a brow and red pooled in your cheeks. “Ask if you can give him a pill, please.”
The nurse gave you a once over, then nodded. “Alright, sugar. I’ll see what I can do.”
Then she was out the door, and you slumped against the wall.
Montgomery wasn’t sure what pissed him off more.
That he had to come into this damn clinic, because of damn Fazbear and risk seeing you so soon after he all but ran out on you.
That he did see you and only managed to piss you off more, because he couldn’t keep his fuckin’ mouth shut.
Or that this fuckin’ doctor managed to stare a minute too long at your retreating back.
“Aye, eye up ‘ere bud!”
A wicked smirk spread on Foxy’s lips. “Touchy? Yer not near as nice to look at.”
A growl rumbled in his chest. “I’ll show ya fuckin’ touchy.”
“Calm down, she’s far too wounded righ’ now. Wouldn’ be righ’,” The doctor rubbed his chin, “Bu’ maybe in a few months.”
Montgomery saw red.
“Ya stay the fuck away from her, ya son of a bitch.” He exploded off the bed, squaring himself nose to nose with the cocky bastard. “Ya even look at ‘er wrong an’ I’ll-“
“Oh? You’ll what?” Foxy’s smile melted away. “Looks like from where Imma standin’ you’ve done enough.”
It felt like a punch to gut, knocking the wind from his lungs. Monty ground his teeth, flexing his fingers, consequences be damned, he need to hit something…someone.
The curtain slid back further at that moment, revealing an older woman in scrubs. She sighed, rubbing her forehead, “Dr. Fox, stop antagonizing the patient.”
Said doctor smirked, gaze never wavering. “Jus’ havin’ a bit of fun, my sweet harpy. It’s not often I getta ruffle some new feathers.”
Montgomery’s lip curled and Foxy’s grin widened.
Eileen pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re a headache, youngin’. Now get the hell out of here and let me do my job.”
“I tol’ lassie-“
“I’ll do it. You’ve had your fun, now quit.” She didn’t even give the doctor a chance to respond, before she snagged him by his white coat and all but tossed him outside the room. “And change the shots to pills, while I’m in here. You hear me!”
Foxy tilted his head, “Pills?”
“Just do it, youngin. Now hurry up. The time you’ve spent in here aggravating him, you could’ve been seeing our other patients.” Came Eileen’s sharp reprimand, leaving the doctor rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Without another look his way, she snapped the curtains shut and turned her attention to the bassist. “Sit down and hush, I’m going to get you cleaned up and get you out of here.”
Monty opened and closed his mouth, at a momentary loss for words, but found himself being shoved back down into his seat. Before he could even try to protest, she’d tilted his head to the side and began to wipe his wound with a surprising gentleness.
“It’s a little infected, probably from irritation. This and the medicine should help you, hun. Keep a bandage on it and it should be good in a week or two.”
Dryly, the bassist swallowed. Should he –
The nurse paused for a moment, letting him to turn his head and meet her knowing gaze. “She’s okay.”
Silently, he nodded and tilted his head back to where it had been. Eileen hummed softly under her breath as she worked, almost lulling the rockstar to sleep.
“Dr. Fox was kidding, you know.” The bassist glanced up, but this time she didn’t look away from her task. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
“We’re not-“
“I may be old, but I’m not blind, deaf, or stupid.”
“It’s not-“
“I don’t know what happened or who did what,” One final swipe, then she pressed a clean bandage into place. “But she cares and I’m guessing you do too.”
Monty arched a brow. “She looked like she was going to castrate me.”
Eileen sighed and rolled her gloves off. “The pills were her idea. Do what you want with that information.”
Without another glance backward, she left the room, closing the curtains behind her.
Montgomery rubbed the back of his neck. It was selfish, but he couldn’t help the small twinge of relief that loosened his too tight chest.
Maybe….
Dosed up with antibiotics and a final glare at the all too cocky doctor, Montgomery got to leave the clinic. Hesitantly, he paused and glanced back, immediately finding you through the glass door as you breezed by into another room.
A moment longer, then he turned to make his way to back to Rockstar Row to meet Freddy. The workday would be ending soon, and he had a lot of packing to do if they were going to get him moved out by tonight.
But in the meantime, he snatched his phone out of his back pocket, hesitantly pausing at your number, then scrolling on to another. One click and it began to ring.
One ring, then two, and three-
“Hi, Monty!!!”
Montgomery sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Heya, Chica. I needa favor.”
“Sure, thing! Whatcha need?”
At the end of the day, you were emotionally and physically drained. You’d just slung your bag over your shoulder, about to head to your car, when a hand clasped down on your shoulder.
Imagine your surprise when you turned around and came face to face with the boys. Your boys, all covered in glitter glue and feathers.
“A little birdy told us we have a lot to catch up on.” Lee gave you a tired grin, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “I propose pizza and sleepover at your place?”
A birdy, huh.
A small smile spread on your lips, “I guess my floor is big enough.”
“Babe, give me a pillow and I’m set.” Colby intoned, taking up residence on your other side, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Warning, Jackson snores.”
“I snore?! You suck the curtains off the windows!” Came Jackson’s squawked protest. “Just for that, I call dibs on the shower!”
“Oh, fuck no, I got in a glue fight with Moon, you can wash off in the sink and she can be blind folded.”
You and Lee rolled your eyes in unison. But it was nice. This was nice. You needed this.
You were still mad after the encounter in the clinic, but you’d have to tell Lee to tell Chica to thank the little birdy for you.
Even if the birdy was a jackass.
Chapter 21: Arc II: Daycare Chronicles
Summary:
Healing, glitter, and bad words.
Notes:
Hello all~!
This is the first moment I've had to breathe in months and I finally got time to sit down and write a chapter. I'm rusty and I didn't proofread in my excitement, even though I rewrote this three times. I hope you all enjoy and I'll try my best to post again soon.
Thank all of you for your comments, kudos, subscriptions, and bookmarks. They keep me motivated and determined to come back to finish no matter how hard it may be.
As always enjoy~!
Chapter Text
It’d been a month since the boys had swept in to put you back on your feet.
You’d told them everything, and it felt like a weight had lifted off your shoulders as you recounted all that had taken place lately. The result was a night that had been filled with pizza, tears (on your part), cursing, and uncontrollable laughter that had all of you holding your stomachs, until one by one, you’d all fallen asleep on the floor.
After that, days were better and weren't as painful. You felt less raw around the edges, less exposed when your mask would crumble. With the boys, Eileen, and Dr. Fox at your side, you allowed yourself to put your pieces back together.
At the clinic, you’d joke with Dr. Fox, and throughout the shift you’d learn all you could from Eileen, soaking up any bits of wisdom you could, and between patients the two of you would talk. Anything at all that came to mind, the two of you would discuss.
During a particularly hectic shift, you learned about Eileen’s granddaughter named Cassie, who she’d been raising since she was a small toddler. You would’ve had to have been blind not to see the warmth that radiated off her when she spoke of the girl. Cassie was a straight A student, wanted to be a mechanic when she grew up, and adored Roxanne. After years of pleading, Eileen finally caved and agreed to let her have her birthday party this year at the Roxanne’s Raceway.
When a few days later you found an invitation to Cassie’s birthday party in your locker, you teared up and tackled Eileen into a hug. Even if the party was months off, you’d be the first one there.
Then, the talks evolved into what happened between you and Montgomery. Whether by conscious decision or self-preservation, you avoided concerts and Monty Golf like the plague. A little voice in the back of your mind reassured you, it was okay to let yourself be a coward and a little ridiculous just for a while longer.
It started innocent enough. Eileen had asked if you had a plan for when you finished your contract. Which led to mentioning your possible desire to continue in medical field. That trailed into Eileen reflecting on when the band first came to the Pizza Plex and her own contract started, then it devolved into the band, and of course led to Monty.
Between frequent heart to heart's with your coworker, you’d take your lunches in the Daycare with the boys.
And while it supplied endless entertainment, it also came with a unique problem.
“Needs more glitter.”
Before you could protest, a handful of bright blue glitter was sprinkled on top of your sandwich.
“Louis!” Sunny scolded, miraculously appearing behind his target, “What have we said about decorating food!”
The child in question, Louis, began twisting in his seat, bright blue eyes fixed on the purple table. “It’s for crafts…. not food…”
Honestly, the bottom lip he’d jutted out would’ve been your downfall. However, Sun, in all his experience and expertise remained firm, but gave the regretful child a shiny grin and pat on the head. “That’s right! Good job! Now, how about you get our guest a snack from the cabinet to replace her lunch. But. If this happens again, you won’t be allowed to have snacks with our guest anymore.”
Louis perked up, “Oh! I promise! I’ll get the best snacks!!”
With a beaming smile, the little boy skipped to the snack keeper for the day. You deflated, staring longingly at the shiny sandwich. “Maybe I should stick with chips or anything that is covered.”
As if sensing your despair, out of the shadows materialized Moondrop, “Ya know, if you didn’t insist on eating in here-“
“Moony! Our guest is always welcome!”
“What?! You don’t want glitter in your food, don’t eat around a bunch of toddlers.”
Unfortunately, Moon’s logic was solid. It’d become a tradition at this point. The Daycare had a lunch buddy system, which paired older kids with a younger one to help with opening snacks or settling the smaller child down for lunch time. Despite the Daycare’s elaborate transportation system that had a never-ending cycle of hoops above, Sun and Moon could not be everywhere at once.
However, many days like today, there wasn’t enough older kids to go around. These days the boys would step in as a buddy and after a few visits, you had also volunteered, much to Moon’s obvious dismay.
“Isn’t it strange though,” Sun hummed, cornering his eyes at this brother. “I could swear I had put up the glitter before lunch time.”
Moon casually shrugged, “Ya know kids. They hide stuff all the time.”
You arched a brow and Moondrop smirked.
“Lunch buddy! I got you a muffin!” Sang Louis as he hopped back into his seat adjacent to you. “And-and-and-annndddddd- got you some chips~!”
You clutched your chest, scandalized, “Two snacks?! For little ole me?”
Moondrop rolled his eyes. “How about some gum to hush her up?”
Cue Louis and Sunny’s perfectly in-sync gasps.
“Moony!”
“That is not nice!”
Another eye roll from the Attendant and you chuckled, “Yeah, it’s not nice, Moony.”
He scowled, “Neither is being a nuisance-“
“Bad word!!” Came your lunch buddy’s well practiced tattle tale voice, finger pointing frantically at the Daycare Attendant as he bounced in his seat. “Mister Sun! Moony used a bad word-“
“It’s not a bad word, kid-“
“Moony,” Sunny draped an arm across his twin’s shoulders, smile obviously covered by a mask of mock-seriousness. “It’s not nice to call our friends names. If you don’t apologize, I’m afraid you’ll have to go into the naughty chair.”
Moon’s lips thinned, “You’re joking-”
“Now, now,” Sun wagged his finger. “We must set good examples for our little friends.”
“Of all the-“
“Moony~! A good example, please~!”
Moondrop gritted. “I’m. Sorry.”
“Good job, Moony! You get a star!”
Before he could even protest, a gold star was stuck between his eyes, leaving him gob smacked in his twin’s wake as Sun skipped over to another group of children.
Louis took a bite out of his sandwich and beamed, “It’s a pretty star, Mr. Moon!”
You pressed a palm to your lips to silence yourself, almost snorting. With an air of defeat, Moon sighed raggedly and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Thanks, kid. Finish up, lunch is almost over.” A final glare in your direction, “And you, behave.”
Judging from his eye roll, he did not appreciate the salute you had given him.
The following day went the same as the day before.
Thankfully, this time you snatched the glitter out of Louis’s hands before he could prettify your lunch.
“Awh~!”
You had no shame in giving the kid a flat look. “Louis, you remember yesterday.”
Despite the big puppy eyes and the wobbly lower lip, you managed to remain firm. Louis was a good kid, who happened to love all things sparkly, and had a hard time focusing on when it was time to eat lunch. Although the boy was old enough to be a smaller child’s buddy, he tended to get paired with one of the adults. And when you started to come around, for some reason, he had decided to lay claim on being your lunch buddy every day.
You suspected his lunch sabotaging had something to do with it.
A small sparkle in those big blue eyes and you deflated, “C’mon, bud, I gotta eat more than chips and a muffin every day. I’m a little bigger than you.”
“That’s truuueee….”
“What? No sparkles today?” Louis’s pout deepened and you scowled as Moon, saddled up to your table, smirk firm in place. “That sandwich isn’t very pretty.”
You narrowed your eyes and Moon’s smirk widened.
Louis huffed. “It’s suppose to be pretty.”
“But it won’t taste pretty-“
“Bu-But Mister Moon says you give pretty girls pretty things-“
You blinked in clear surprise, “Oh-“
“And Mister Moon says you’re the prettiest-“
Cue Moon lunging over the table, scooping the still pouting child out of his seat, “I did not-“
“But she needs pretty!” Steam was all but shooting out of the boy’s ears. “You said-you said-YOU SAID- her feelings were hurt and to make her feel better with pretties!”
Heat exploded across your face and Moondrop grimaced, but Louis continued to rant. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen Louis throw glitter on anyone else’s food.
You couldn’t help but laugh at the whole situation as it unfolded, a whole-body shaking laughter that made you clutch your stomach and had your eyes watering.
Neither Moon nor Louis looked pleased. Their twin looks of displeasure almost pushed you over the edge.
With a gasping breath, you managed to calm yourself. “Louis, honey, you don’t have to give me anything. But you could just make me a pretty craft, instead of a pretty sandwich.”
Cue the boy looking at you like you had two heads. “A craft?!”
“I can put it on my fridge at home? Sandwiches don’t last forever.”
A long, dramatic pause, then Louis nodded. “I guess that would be pretty enough.”
You snickered and Moon rolled his gaze upward.
A determined glint hardened the young child's gaze as he jumped to his feet, and struck the perfect superman pose. “I will make you a pretty!”
Louis disappeared in a swirl of crumbs and devious laughter.
After a beat, you slowly redirected your attention to the cringing Daycare Attendant, shit eating grin full on display.
“Awh, you think I’m the prettiest girl ever-“
“Oh, shut up, I did not say that-“
“But I need pretties-“
“For fuck’s sake-“
“BAD WOR-“
A pale hand slammed over your mouth and red eyes burned into your soul. “You get Sunny over here and you’ll be eating glitter for a month.” At your narrowed gaze, Moon arched a brow in challenge. “Wanna try me?”
Moondrop decided to take your eye roll as surrender and hissed through clenched teeth, “I did not say you were the prettiest anything. Louis said you looked sad, wanted to make you feel better, gave him the whole watered down princess version, and the kid took it to heart.”
Well, wasn’t that adorable.
The hand over your mouth, not so much.
A quick snap of your teeth had the attendant jumping away, cringing and double checking his palm as though you had bit him.
You snorted, “Like I would risk it. Probably haven’t even had your rabies shot-”
“Hang the fuck on-“
“But, thank you.”
Moon paused mid-snarl, shoulders dropping and features curling in confusion. “Huh-“
“For getting Louis to cheer me up-“
“I didn’t-“
“It helped, for what it’s worth.” A warm smile spread on your lips. “So, thank you.”
Pink spread on his pale cheeks as he scowled, “It was for Louis.”
“I know-“
“Social skills, cues, lesson in kindness-“
“I understand-“
With an annoyed huff and face now on fire, Moon growled, “It wasn’t for you!”
You arched a brow, “You’ve made that clear.”
“You are- You are-ugh!” An irritated growl rattled his chest, “So annoying!”
“You’ve…also made that clear.”
A prolonged silence descended between the two of you. Red eyes burning, as though the look alone would be enough to wipe your very existence off the map. But gradually, the chuckles of the surrounding children infiltrated the tense bubble. Moon visibly deflated when the ringing of bell signaled play time and lunch’s end.
Without another word, you gathered the remains of your lunch. You had just turned to leave, eager to retreat from whatever this was, when you heard-
“You’re welcome.”
It was said so softly; you were sure you had mistaken. Because when you whipped around to check, Moon was gone.
Louis made good on his promise and not a single inch of your fridge was lacking glitter, having enough crafts to even spread to your locker. After you reassured him, three times, his pretties had made you much better, did he deem his crafting expertise no longer necessary.
Although his mission had been completed, Louis had meekly asked if you would remain his lunch buddy and with a smile so big that it hurt, you agreed.
Moon made himself scarce in your presence and you didn’t question it. But when you had managed to catch his eye one slow day, you gave him a wave and chuckled at the eye roll you received in return.
“Oh no, no, no, no! Absolutely not!” With an arched brow, your attention turned to Jackson, who was seated next to Louis at your usual lunch table in a far-off corner and clearly ignoring the child’s glare. His eyes narrowed, “We are not doing this again! Do you hear me?”
“Doing what-“
“Listen. You have a type, clearly, asshole-“
Cue Louise’s scandalized gasp and him dropping his cookie, “BAD WOR-“
“Here’s a sticker.” Quick as lightening, the child was now mesmerized by the sparkling star now on his hand. Tattling now far from his mind, Jackson continued, “Red eyes, bad boy, can we not?”
You rolled your eyes skyward, “Calm down. I’m not.”
“Excuse me for my concern-“
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, I waved, Boy Wonder-“
“Uh huh, we see where that got us last time!”
“Last time, I’m pretty sure I cussed him out-“
“So, you skipped a few steps-“
“I promise-“
And that must have been the secret code. Because Louis now had his full attention on the two of you. “Pinky promise?”
You chuckled, “Pinky promise.”
To seal the deal, you hooked your finger around Jackson’s and gave him your best smile. He snorted and ruffled your hair.
There were still plenty of rough moments. Times when memories threatened to overwhelm you as they weighed heavily on your chest and you would let a few tears out in the shower. But, gradually, those moments lessened. You didn't cry as often and didn't cringe at the sight of the band's many posters. You had a goal to look forward to now. Even if it was sparkly crafts some days.
You were beginning to heal and if things continued to go well, then maybe finishing the rest of your contract wouldn’t be so horrible.
It’d been like any other Monday.
Alarm. Shower. Checking emails on her cell phone. Chasing Gregory out of bed and threatening him with an untimely demise if he did not get ready for school, and no for the love of all things holy, he could not play hooky at the Pizza Plex.
Which, as always, led to the inevitable fight they were currently hashing out.
Elizabeth rubbed her forehead, weariness heavy on her shoulders.
“C’mon, Mom! Please! Just this once-“
“Gregory…We’ve talked about this-“
“Mom-“
Her piercing gaze cut him short. “You are not missing school to go there. End of story.”
And like any other eight-year-old on the planet, his face screwed up in an impressive imitation of her own scowl and arms crossed over his chest.
The early stages of prepubescent rebellion were on the horizon, and Elizabeth felt woefully unprepared to combat it. No longer was a simple no good enough for him. Now, he wanted to know why. Especially in the face of such a valid question. All Gregory knew was his mom worked in the most “Faztastic” and “kid friendly” place in town, why had he never been?
Sure, he’d been exposed to the hype. Videos and merchandise of Freddy and the Gang. And still clung to the threadbare, Freddy styled teddy bear, she’d bought him for his fourth birthday.
He didn’t know why she never let him step foot in her workplace and didn’t need to know.
He was just a kid.
Her kid.
But still a kid who longed to meet his idol in person, like many of his classmates had done several times.
Elizabeth gnawed at her lower lip. The temptation to give in and just let him go was heavy on her chest, but just when she felt her resolve cracking, in stark clarity she remembered that polaroid in her locker with one word written in marker.
“We’re going to be late, kiddo.” With one look, she silenced his brewing protest, making Gregory deflate in defeat and nod. A wobbly smile spread on her lips as she ruffled his hair, “I-We can talk about it more tonight. Okay, honey?”
Naked, unfiltered hope shined in his eyes, absolutely beaming. “Really?”
“Yeah, now hurry up”. Her throat tightened, “We’re both going to be late.”
Gregory whooped, punching the air, much like he’d seen Freddy do in videos of the many concerts he’d watched, and turned tail to grab his worn orange backpack from his room.
His absolute adoration of the singer had remained steadfast from the moment she’d brought home that plushy. Honestly, Elizabeth had hoped it’d be a phase he’d outgrow, and she could continue to avoid the Fazbear-sized conflict in her small home for a bit longer.
But as her sweet, brown-eyed son, all but skipped to her side, bouncing with giddiness did she feel the knife twist further in her gut.
Something would have to give soon, and she could already feel the dread souring her stomach. Just as she turned to open their worn front door, Elizabeth felt her phone vibrate with an incoming phone call.
With a sigh, she answered without even looking. “Hello?”
“Ah, Elizabeth, good morning.” Came the all too familiar, icy tone, “I was calling to inform you I’ll be stopping by this morning in preparation for the open attraction next week.”
Right. The new attraction. William’s return for the opening had been delayed over the month he’d predicted, so when he’d sent her an email instructing her to begin advertising and post job openings for the site, she knew this would be inevitable.
It’d be a simple affair. Coupon deals, some balloons, and William cutting a gaudy ribbon in front of the attraction entrance, and he’d be gone again until he wanted something else. Since there were no more handlers, and as far as William was concerned, he had the band under his thumb, it should be a while before he showed his face again.
Not that she was complaining.
“Of course. I had marketing begin promoting the grand opening-“
“Good. Good. Also, I need you to send me Montgomery’s last handler’s contract.”
Elizabeth dropped her keys as the color drained from her face. “Of-Of course,” She cleared her suddenly dry throat, “I’ll also forward the others-“
“No need. Just her’s and set up a meeting between the three of us this morning-“
And just like that, it felt like she’d been punched in the gut. She’d expected a week, not-, “Today?”
“Absolutely,” Rang Fazbear’s stern tone, “The sooner the better. I’ll be there within the hour. Please plan accordingly.”
Before Elizabeth could even try to process a response, he’d already hung up and left her with the steady buzz of the dial tone.
“Mom?” A tentative tug to her blouse snapped her attention to her clearly confused child. “You okay? You kinda look sick.”
She sure felt sick.
Chapter 22: Deal with the Devil
Summary:
A new player enters the game
Notes:
Hello all~!
I apologize, as always, for the delay. I was struggling on how I wanted this chapter to go, as it's what this all has been leading up to. Eventually, I realized something is better than nothing and gave it my best go.
I hope you continue to enjoy and thank you all for your kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions, and comments. You guys make it all worth it.
As always, I hope you enjoy~!
Chapter Text
There had been nothing special about that particular Monday morning.
As the numerous before it, you got up with your alarm, showered, got ready for work, and prepared an extra large thermos of coffee to get your through your shift at the clinic. The previous night had been filled with your nose stuffed in the anatomy book Eileen had loaned you and notes scribbled in a drink splotched notebook.
Tentatively, a plan for your future had begun to form, once you escaped Fazhell. Although what exact direction you would take still remained undetermined, you did know you wanted to pursue medicine. Hence, the loaned stack of books on your counter that you’d gradually become more familiar with.
A snore from your living space almost made you drop the already dinged metal thermos. Another alarm sounded, and a groan slurred with a curse that made you press your lips tight to restrain your laughter echoed into the kitchen.
Jackson grumbled, head popping out from beneath a mountain of blankets, glaring in your direction. “What you smiling at?”
“Oh, nothing.”
His gaze narrowed at your too innocent smile, scowling as he tossed the blankets off of him, and all but stomped to take his turn in the shower.
With this latest arrangement, you’d discovered Jackson was not a morning person. Not even a person really, until you two arrived at work, then a switch would flip and the persona of Boy Wonder came out in full force.
It hadn’t been intentional for him to move in with you. It’d started out as the boys taking shifts, making sure no more sinister creepy crawlies would come bouncing out of the dark, and turned into a makeshift dresser and bed replacing your couch, and a toothbrush next to yours. He cleaned up after himself, respected your space, and you took turns driving to work.
Although unintentional, you couldn’t lie that having someone in the apartment with you did bring you some peace of mind. It helped knowing when you jolted awake, scream caught in your throat after a particularly brutal nightmare, that your friend was just in the other room.
By the time you had your bag packed for the day, Jackson was dressed and waiting by the door, keys in hand. “Colby said he’d found an apartment in the three of ours budget. It’d come open around the time our contracts ended.”
You arched a brow, “How far out?”
“It’d be about a thirty minute drive.”
“Can we go farther?”
Farther away you could get, the better, but three bedroom apartments in a reasonable price range were rare.
Jackson snorted and ruffled your hair, “I wish. C’mon, we’re going to be late.”
Once on property, the two of you parted ways. You fished out your name badge, swiped at the time clock, and unlocked the clinic door with your sparkling new key. Opening duties had officially been added to your job description once Eileen confided in you how her arthritis had started acting up in the mornings, and you all but volunteered, since you arrived most mornings before everyone anyway.
At least, that’s what you told yourself, and others.
In reality, it gave you something else to keep you occupied and keep your attention fixated firmly away from the lingering sore that’d been slowly closing. Busy hands, busy mind.
You’d just switched the lights on and turned to put your bag in the back, when a knock on the glass door jolted you out of your skin.
Hand clutched to your chest, you whipped around to come face to face with a very pale Elizabeth. With tight lips, she slipped inside and offered a weak grin, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, but I need you to come to my office.”
A familiar phrase. One that immediately had your stomach souring, “For?”
At that, she sighed, defeat etched into the lines of her face. “Mister Fazbear wants to see you.”
He may have wanted to see you, but he was certainly the last person you wanted to see. The mere mention of his name unleashed every thing you’d fought to contain. Lies, stress, robots, and Monty.
Like a tidal wave, it all crashed back to you. You’d worked hard to get to where you were mentally and emotionally, and all it took was one man’s name to ruin it all.
Last time you walked in, accepting of your fate, brave and prepared. This time, you couldn’t fathom what he’d want with you. You hadn’t seen Monty since that day in the clinic and had zero to none association with the band anymore. You came to work and went home, only deviating to visit the Daycare at lunch.
The unknown of it made the bile rise in your throat as you followed Elizabeth down the familiar hallway. Fingers twitching and the hair on the back of your neck rising in protest. Before you knew it, she stopped before her closed office door, turning to face you once more, hand on the door knob.
“You okay?”
You nodded, lips thinned and throat tight. “Do you know what he wants?”
“This was...sprung on me as well.” A deep breath and her eyes steeled, “Let’s not keep him waiting.”
She turned the handle and you swallowed, squaring your shoulders the best you could as you stepped through the threshold.
The office hadn’t changed since your last visit, same desk, same tile, and same achingly cold aura suffocating you. Elizabeth closed the door behind the two of you and you worked up the nerve to meet the gaze of the man that’d haunted your dreams.
William smiled, stiff and rehearsed, “Thank you for meeting me on such short notice.”
You flexed your fingers, “Of course, how may I help you?”
A presence warmed your back and some of the ice melted from your flesh. Elizabeth brushed against your elbow to stand next to you. A small, inconspicuous gesture, but enough to remind you that you weren’t trapped alone with him.
“I have a proposition for you. This is all voluntary, of course, as your last contract was changed so...abruptly, and here at Fazbear Entertainment we try to to be mindful of our employee’s well being.” You bit your tongue and felt Elizabeth stiffen in response. William’s smile broadened, sharper, more predatory. “But before we discuss such matters, I’d like you to meet someone.”
A sound to your side revealed a blonde woman, green eyes, and freckles donned in a sharp blazer and matching dress pants. You’d been so distracted by the man before you, you hadn’t even noticed her seated quietly in the corner, legs crossed and white badge hanging from her neck.
At his gesture, the woman rose and met you in the middle of the room, reaching her hand out, “Hello. I’m Vanessa. I’m one of the lead engineers for Mister Fazbear.”
Your gaze flickered between her neutral expression and her hand, before shaking it. “Nice to meet you.”
The question in your tone, you knew had been evident.
“If you choose to accept, you and Vanessa would be working together often.”
Your brows furrowed, “I’m not an engineer.”
“Your involvement would be more...organic.” That was far from reassuring. Vanessa cleared her throat and William took that as his cue, spreading his palms before him on the desk. “You have experience wrangling in more...difficult superstars and had glowing results. Your position would be interaction, education...I should say.”
Alarms blared in your mind, buzzing, almost deafening you to the point you couldn’t hear your own thoughts. The word choice, his demeanor and expression, you fought to stay standing in place and not bolt for the door.
“This is voluntary?”
“It is,” William reassured, same fake smile and nod. “But, if you accept, you would have negotiating power with this new contract.”
“Such as?”
“Anything within the realm of my power.”
You blinked. That..that was not what you’d been expecting. “A-Anything?”
He nodded and you felt an arm brush yours. You didn’t have to look up to see Elizabeth’s face, you knew it was a warning. To be careful. You were in the lion’s den, don’t mock it.
Anything within his power left a wide range of possibility, that in itself made you alight with nerves. Whatever he wanted, he wanted it bad enough to give you a blank check and for you to write the amount. You wanted to demand your contract to be terminated, but that’d be useless.
He wanted something from you and letting you go wouldn’t be an option.
You wouldn’t be an option...but….maybe…
“Anything?”
William smiled.
You returned it, equally as cold and cutting, “I have a list.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“I want the other former handlers contracts to be revised to be at will. No deadlines or cut offs that they must fulfill. They can walk away any time they want, and not be required to reimburse you their previously earned wages.”
His smile faltered ever so slightly, but returned just as easy. “That would be...agreeable. They’ll have to agree, of course, but it will be offered. Anything else?”
You gnawed at your bottom lip and nodded. With a deep breath, you squared your shoulders. “The band can pursue branching outside of the Pizzaplex. No….hindrance. I want you to send an album of Freddy’s choosing to any and all record labels he approves of. With glowing recommendations.”
Elizabeth pinched your side and William’s grin melted away. It was then you seen the real William Fazbear, eyes burning and face hardened. It was a much more natural expression than the mask he’d been wearing.
The air became heavy, suffocating under his stare. Not a sound except the steady churn of the central air and the ominous tick of the clock.
The corner of his lip twitched up, “I see we’ve progressed from checkers to chess, haven’t we, my dear?” You remained silent and he chuckled, low and dangerous. “Seems I underestimated you. Very well, I agree to your conditions if you agree to this new position.”
That only deepened your concern.
What was worth possibly giving up the band? The band he manipulated, bribed, and threatened to keep under lock and key.
To give it up, so easy…
Concrete settled into your gut and the sense of impending doom overwhelmed you.
William chuckled, “Right to it, then. I want you to be a handler again, much like you were for Montgomery.”
“A..handler? But, not for anyone in the band?”
“That’d be correct.”
A gesture toward Vanessa and she slipped behind you and Elizabeth, placing her hand on the door handle. She raised her free wrist and pressed a button on her Fazwatch. As if on command, heavy metal echoed through the door.
It sounded like..footsteps?
Then, nothing but silence.
After a beat, a heavy, but polite knock sounded.
Vanessa opened the door and stepped back.
Elizabeth’s nails dug into your arm as she dragged you backward, you both bumping into the desk to accommodate the massive size of the visitor. It took you a moment to realize just what you were seeing, before it registered in cold, clear clarity.
There standing just inside the doorway was a towering, blue, bipedal rabbit. Purple headband below his spiky blue bangs, gleaming red eyes, sharp purple shoulder pads, and red body suit.
Politely, the rabbit shut the door behind him and your jaw dropped.
Vanessa cleared her throat, “Introduce yourself.”
The bunny smiled, showing two large front teeth as he held out a massive blue, four fingered hand. “Nice to meet ya, I’m Bonnie.”
William laughed, delighted behind you, giving a slow applause.
You stared at the rabbit and he stared at you.
Bonnie cleared his throat, eerily similar to Vanessa. “It’s polite to shake hands when meeting someone new.”
At your lack of response, Bonnie scowled and William’s laughter echoed.
Eventually, Vanessa broke the tense atmosphere, stepping between the two of you and smacked his hand down. “That’s enough. It’s not polite to harass someone clearly scared.”
Bonnie blinked, dropping his hand and took a step back. Gaze sweeping you head to toe with a bright blue light, “Elevated heart rate, spiked adrenaline-”
You whipped around, slamming your hands on the desk and heart thundering in your ears. “What the fuck in going on?!”
“There’s no need for such language-”
You turned your attention to Vanessa, who met you with the same measured coolness as all previous interactions had brought. “He’s an animatronic. The much more advanced version of those security bots that zoom around and bug everyone all day. Bonnie is equipped with a highly developed learning AI and preinstalled safety and first aid guidelines. He’s to be the first animatronic child entertainer here at the Pizzaplex.”
In the recess of your now exhausted brain, things slowly started adding up.
They needed a handler.
It felt like you got dunked in ice water. Numbness now seeping into your veins.
Williams laughter never ceased, eerily sounding like a mad scientist.
Bonnie’s gaze never left you.
“Why does he need a handler?”
Vanessa cleared her throat. “Although advanced, the AI is still that. AI. Bonnie learns through observation and interaction. You’ll be teaching him how to interact with others and correcting if he oversteps, and be an overall companion for him. As he’s the first of his kind, isolation is imminent and-”
“Okay-Okay, let me get this straight,” Vanessa arched a brow and Bonnie tilted his head. William’s damn laughter finally stopped. “You want me to be...his friend?”
“Handler would be a more appropriate term...but friend would also be suitable.”
Your lips thinned, turning to look at the lunatic behind you. The bastard had that fucking fake smile.
“Ideally, the position would begin today as Bonnie’s associated attraction is set to open next week.”
That’s why construction had taken so long. It hadn’t been construction. It’d been this...this…
Hesitantly, you eyed the animatronic, taking equal, calm, measuring breaths. Fighting to get your heart rate down. You licked your lips and Bonnie’s gaze zeroed in on the action, making you cringe. “How..how long?”
William cleared his throat and Vanessa looked at her watch. “The duration of your contract should suffice. It’d be approximately four months.”
Four months.
Four months and in exchange, the people you cared about would have a choice. A real choice. No bribes, no contracts, an actual choice. The people that held you when you cried and befriended you in this hell hole, could leave.
You were going to be here the next four months regardless. What would it really hurt?
You swallowed, gently prying Elizabeth’s bruising grip free and stepped forward, hand outstretched, “Nice to meet you. I look forward to working with you.”
His larger fingers wrapped around yours, gentle, but firm as he shook your hand. “I’m looking forward to it too.”
William beamed.
Chapter 23: The Basics
Summary:
Headaches and empathy.
Notes:
Hello all ~!
Only took me a little under two weeks to get this written, but I hope you enjoy it. I just want to start out by saying, I don't do love triangles and Monty will be reappearing in another chapter or two, have to set up the foundation with the newest member of the Fazbear team, of course!
A thank you to everyone who subscribed, bookmarked, left kudos, and comments. You guys truly are what drive me to continue with this and I appreciate all the love you've shown me and my little story.
As always, enjoy ~!
Chapter Text
Naturally, William didn’t want you to leave the room with the contract, and given the past few months, you refused to sign until you’d read every piece of it.
That’s how you ended up int his predicament, hunched over Elizabeth’s desk, red pen in hand to make revisions , and Google on standby for any legal jargon you didn’t understand. Despite his icy stare, you paced yourself.
Elizabeth stayed at your back, reading over you shoulder, and maintaining guard. What she thought she’d guard you from, you weren’t sure, but you’d not complain. Every so often, you’d reach behind you for her to squeeze your hand, just for the reassurance she was still there.
After at least an hour of reading, revisions, and additional negotiations, you were set to begin your new role as Bonnie’s handler. Signing the contract hadn’t been hard.
Two contracts in and one major screw over later, there was a fluidity to your wrist and a curl to your letters as you signed the dotted line. Your pen just barely lifted from the paper, when William ripped it toward him.
“Now that’s finally been settled, if you’d be so kind to follow Vanessa to her office. There she’ll be discussing the finer points of your new role.”
You glanced at Elizabeth, gaze narrowed and lips set in a thin line. A squeeze to her arm that she acknowledged with a nod and you brushed by her to join Vanessa and Bonnie at the door.
Just when the three of you began to trickle out, did you hear Elizabeth’s quip, “Since you’re being so generous today, you can call up the clinic and let them know why their help won’t be returning.”
The walk to Vanessa’s office remained tense and quiet. You shadowed her steps, ducking into employee hallways you’d never bothered to use and descending into the bowels of the Pizzaplex. The moment the three of you stepped onto the lower level, a shiver rolled down your spine, setting your teeth on edge.
In stark contrast to upstairs, it was devoid of color. Cement surrounded you. Walls, ceiling, and flooring, encompassing you in a pool of gray. The only light source to be found came from the flickering, yellowed lights sparsely spread through the halls.
You hesitated a moment at the foot of the steps.
Vanessa’s stride remained sure and steady as she slowly turned into a blonde dot in the distance. Never once did she glance backward or notice your absence.
The same couldn’t be said for Bonnie.
He’d not spoken a word since shaking your hand and seemed as unfazed as Vanessa, until you’d stopped. It took all of two steps before he turned toward you, single black brow quirked upward. Whatever he seen on your face seemed to be enough to break his silent streak.
“You alright?”
You blinked, brows furrowing. He sounded different? You could’ve sworn he hadn’t sounded so...natural upstairs.
“Yeah, just a lot…”
He hummed, glancing back down the hall, then returning his gaze to you. “We better get going. She’s irritable when kept waiting.”
With a wink, he turned on his heel and resumed his pace, although marginally slower, until you’d caught up to him.
After what felt to be an eternity, the three of you arrived to the Parts and Services Department. At least that’s what the cracked sign on the wall declared. Inside seemed to be a combination of a science lab and a garage. Tall glass tubes with fluorescent water bubbled along the walls and the bitter musk of oil filled the air, as you scanned over the long forgotten tools that were scattered.
Vanessa tsked, pushing aside some stray gears with her foot, and bumped open one of the cobweb covered doors with her hip.
Inside laid a simple desk with mismatched chairs, large computer monitors occupying a corner, and tools spread along the desk’s surface. Much like outside, it was devoid of color, except the pink keyboard, chair, and mouse.
“Take a seat-”, She paused, spotting the layers of dust on said seats, and sighed, “Or just stand. Whatever you want.”
Bonnie snickered as you slid in behind him and closed the door. The motion knocked some dust bunnies loose, almost choking you in the cloud. You gagged, swiping at the air.
“As you can tell, this placement was rather...last minute.”
“Shocker,” Came your wheezed reply.
Vanessa slumped into the pink chair and pinched the bridge of her nose. It’d been the only moment you’d seen her relaxed in the duration of knowing her, the past few hours, but it was short lived. A deep breath and she composed herself, straightening her blazer and smoothing a stray hair behind her ear.
With a flourish, she heaved out a thick book and dropped it onto the desk, making it rattle. “His manual. You’ll need to read it.”
Once you wiped a chair somewhat clean, you’d pulled up to sit in front of the desk and flip through the manual. Between turned pages, Vanessa divulged the finer notes on everything concerning Bonnie.
He learned through observation, as she’d stated back in Elizabeth’s office. Safety protocols prohibited foul language or gestures, and kept him from causing harm or injuring any one.
That had you glance at his gleaming black claws out of the corner of your eye.
The majority of his interactions, since creation, had been primarily with Vanessa herself. It did explain the mannerisms they both seemed to have. Vanessa admitted, with a huff, her own interactions were lacking, which in turn, made Bonnie’s.
Made sense.
The two of you would travel strictly through the employee tunnels, until she had sufficient evidence on how Bonnie would react in crowds.
Not concerning. At all.
You’d be responsible for minor cleanups if required.
Whatever that meant.
Until opening, the two of you would be confined to his attraction and this week you’d be expected to be with him all seven days.
Joy.
And finally, he’d been programmed the play the bass….which pricked something in your memory. But, for the life of you, you couldn’t remember what it’d been.
Vanessa pulled a tablet out of a drawer and handed it to you, “You’ll need this to log daily activities. Like you did for Montgomery.”
You cringed, but grudgingly accepted the device. Better than the notebook you’d been using.
“And the same uniform is expected...Today can be the exception, obviously. Any additional questions you have, feel free to reach out to me.”
The finality of her tone made you address the elephant in the room. Or rather, the blue rabbit in the corner. Reluctantly, you glanced to Bonnie, who’d remained silent during the entirety of your stay in the basement. He leaned casually against the furthest wall, arms crossed, and half lidded red eyes fixated firmly on you.
A shiver rolled sinfully up your spine. Dejavu rang the warning bell in in the back of your mind.
The expression and posture...you’d seen that somewhere before…
Vanessa cleared her throat.
The illusion shattered. With a cringe, you ripped your gaze away from your new charge, heat pooling in your cheeks.
There was no question on if she caught the interaction. Clearly she had, if the pointed look she fixed Bonnie and then you with was any indication. “There’s a reason why you were selected. Keep that in mind going forward.”
The dust caked phone stashed on the corner of her desk rang and made you both jump ten feet in the air. Bonnie snickered, whipping to stare up at the ceiling when you tossed him a glare.
Vanessa grimaced, flicking a spider carcass off the phone, and answered politely, “Hello?”
“GET HER UP TO THE CLINIC, NOW.”
The thundered roar of Fazbear echoed through the ear piece, almost shaking the walls with its volume. Vanessa, unphased, merely held the phone out, waiting for the volume to decrease, and then replied.“Yes, sir.” Delicately, she hung up, “How about you show her the way to the clinic through the employee tunnels? Straight there and to your attraction. No straying.”
Bonnie rolled his eyes, but nodded, “I got it. Follow me.”
The entire journey to the clinic had been blessedly silent, making room for your now throbbing migraine to bloom to fruition. Stress and lack of caffeine after hours seemed to finally win the battle.
By the time the two of you exited next to a shockingly empty clinic and vacant lobby area, the throbbing had begun to wrap like a vice around your forehead and radiate into your ear. Good thing you two were headed to the clinic anyway, you’d have to snag some meds out of your locker.
However, your train of thought derailed and crashed into the nearest wall when you made it to the front of the clinic.
Absolutely nothing prepared you for the sight that greeted you.
Eileen and Dr. Fox were seated outside the double glass doors that’d been tied shut with an ace wrap, arms crossed and feet kicked out. Fazbear loomed menacingly over them, red face stark against his gray stubble. Behind him Elizabeth rubbed her forehead, but amusement quirked the corner of her lips.
“You two will open this clinic, right this instant! We’ve delayed opening for hours. There’s hoards of people outside.”
Eileen arched a brow. “Sounds like a you problem.”
He grit his teeth and Foxy yawned. “It’s called a mutiny, cappin’. Look it up.”
Steam had begun rolling out of his ears when he caught sight of the two of you. Following his line of sight, Eileen and Dr. Fox’s attention landed on you, then the towering blue mass behind you.
All the color drained from Eileen’s face, lips parting, and jaw dropping, “Oh my-”
Dr. Fox lifted his eye-patch, “Holy shit.”
William took a deep breath, smoothing his hair down. “It appears your services are still needed here. I believe a compromise can be met.”
Eileen leveled him with her best glare. The one she saved just for unruly patients.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d say William paled the faintest degree, clearing his throat. “Once launched fully, I believe you could occasionally-”
“Occasionally?!” Eileen shrieked. “Do you want me to be able to walk?! It took years to get someone over here and you have the nerve, the actual nerve, to take what little help I have?!”
Fazbear’s mouth opened and finger raised. You could already hear the line forming in his mind, compensation package or some other form of snake oil, but Eileen plowed forward.
“I am not walking another step or lifting another finger, until you hire someone full-time.”
“Now, there’s no need-”
“Oh, there’s need. If you want a nurse.”
“There’s plenty of nurses-”
Elizabeth delicately cleared her throat, “Actually, Mister Fazbear, Eileen was the only applicant when she was hired and prior to her hire, we couldn’t open the clinic without the position. The clinic garners almost as much revenue as Fazerblast does in one month.”
William ground his teeth, brow twitching as red spread up his neck. A deep breath and he straightened, adjusting his skewed tie. “Very well. Post the position immediately.” He arched a brow to Eileen, “That to your satisfaction?”
The nurse pursed her lips, but grumbled, “I suppose.”
“Now. I’ll take my leave and expect these doors to be open.” A glare at Elizabeth, who’s lips were tight with restrained laughter, “Elizabeth, I believe you have it from here.”
She nodded, “O-of course.”
He paused mid stride to turn his cold, calculating stare on Eileen. “I never forget.” And with those last words, he strode away, leaving a trail of ice in his wake, that only began to thaw once he was out of sight.
Eileen rolled her eyes, moving to stand when Dr. Fox reached to help. Gently he grasped her elbow and helped her to her feet. “Cheap bastard. I never forget,” she mocked, “I won’t forget that nasty beard of his either.”
A chuckle sounded above you. Curiously, you tilted your head back just in time to catch sight of Bonnie’s lips smash tight, although a subtle quiver shook his broad shoulders.
Vanessa had said advanced AI, but the action almost seemed….
A gentle touch to your shoulder brought your attention forward.
Eileen’s forehead creased, concern weighing in her eyes. “Are you okay, sugar?” Pointedly looking at your companion before settling back on you. “Is everything okay?”
The smile spread easily on your lips, well-rehearsed. “It’s fine, really.”
Unfortunately, she knew you better than that to fall for it and you could see the disbelief blatantly on her face. You could practically see the gears begin to churn in her mind, when she pressed her lips tight and pulled you into a crushing hug. Your arms constricted around her, burying your face in her shoulder and taking a deep breath.
Like a switch, you felt your body go lax. Like a security blanket, warm and protective, she squeezed you tighter. Your eyes began to burn and shoulders began to shake. The longer she held you, the harder she shook you to the foundation, chipping away at the wall you’d built up over the day.
Her palm ran up and down your spine, whispering reassurances as you squeezed your eyes harder. As if it’d push the tears back in and prevent you from crumbling. Emotion burned your throat, tightening your chest.
You didn’t want to leave the clinic. You didn’t want to do this. Any of this.
Once the first tear seeped into Eileen’s scrub top, you took a deep breath. In and out. Now wasn’t the time or place to cry. Anywhere but the Pizzaplex.
Slowly, you pulled yourself together, repeating the mantra in your mind. Cry when you get home. When you get home. Not here. Not in front of them. Not in front of him.
Finally, you were able to compose yourself enough to come out from hiding, leaning back to give Eileen a small grin. “I’ll be okay.”
Her lip wobbled and she hugged you so hard the air was pushed from your lungs. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
“Thank you.”
An all too familiar throat cleared, gaining your attention.
Foxy scratched his jaw. “That was sweet an’ all, but I got a question.”
“Yeah?”
“What the hell is behind ye and why does he look like a damn rabbit?”
You snorted and Eileen groaned, head dropping back. “Don’t leave me with him.”
“It’s a genuine question!”
A shadow fell over the two of you, goosebumps erupting across your skin. Soft, blue fur brushed against the bare flesh of your arm as he reached a large hand out to the gaping doctor, “Nice to meet ya. I’m Bonnie.”
Foxy stared at you, Eileen, Bonnie, then his hand. With a shrug of his shoulder, he grasped the animatronic’s hand in his and shook it, “Reckon we’ve seen it all, huh, harpy?”
The harpy remained speechless as she pulled you from him, disconnecting the point of contact, and back into her arms. Like she could hide you.
If only that worked.
Once reassurances and promises to come up at minimum once a day were delivered, you allowed yourself to be led away by the towering robot and back into the abyss of gray.
You supposed the lower level wasn’t really that bad.
Sure, it had cobwebs, no color, and reminded you of an over sized closet that smelled like mothballs. But, it was silent, peaceful almost, and let you get your thoughts and emotions together.
You were following him mindlessly at this point, and couldn’t bring yourself to really care or take too long to question just how he knew where he was going.
He probably had a map built into him.
You’d taken a sharp turn, fingers rubbing circles into your temples, and shoulders tight and hunched when you almost barreled into your guide.
Firm hands caught your shoulders, bringing you down to Earth.
“You okay?”
God, if you heard that one more time. Slowly, you sucked a breath in, composing yourself. Irritation would do you no good, Bonnie was supposed to be learning from you, it was a genuine question one person would ask another.
“Yes, I’m oka-”
“You’re lying.” Your head snapped back so hard, you swear you heard it crack. Red eyes narrowed and his jaw ticked as he stared you down.
Your smile became forced, painful at the corners. “I assure you-”
“You’re. Lying.”
Your eye twitched and his glare became heavy on your face. “I am not.”
“You do that smile when you lie.”
It felt like a slap, knocking it clean off your face. He’d only been around you for a few hours, how could he pick up on-
Oh. Right.
Observation.
He’d been watching you all day. Studying you under some magnifying glass as though he hadn’t thrown a wrench in your carefully crafted life. The life you built on wobbly, broken Legos that you prayed didn’t crumble before four months.
A deep breath and you licked your lips. “Really, I’m okay-”
Warm fingers skated along you jaw line, cupping it to pull you forward.
You jerked backward, colliding with the closest wall. Eyes wide, staring at the dumbstruck animatronic, who’s hand still hung lifelessly in the air. A glance between you and his hand, before he let it fall to his side. “Ah. Overstepped?”
“Yes!”
His head tilted, “How? I thought touch was reassuring.”
Ah, well, he did see you cling to Eileen like a toddler in his defense. But, that didn’t explain that particular action.
“I-It is.” Came your high pitched squeak. “B-but that was a, uh, intimate gesture.” He stared, silent, and you groaned, rubbing your forehead. “That’s something you’d do between partners. Like romantic partners. If you were flirting, that sort of deal.”
Bonnie nodded slowly, bright red eyes flickering over you. “What would be more appropriate then?”
God. Help you.
“As coworkers? Who don’t know each other?”
A small smirk quirked his lips, “I know you.”
“More than basic facts.” Here came the thundering headache, back with a vengeance. You pinched the bridge of your nose. “More than what you’d find in a file. Like...ugh...Like intimate details about that person.”
The smirk dissolved and he crossed his arms. “More than what’s in your Fazbear file?”
“Yes! Stuff you find out by being around someone, spending time together, talking to one another. Not just black and white facts.”
“Okayyyy,” He dragged the word out, disbelief coating it. “Then, how do I reassure-” He gestured vaguely to your head and rigid shoulders. “This?”
You blinked. “Excuse me?”
Bonnie rolled his eyes, making you narrow yours. “How am I supposed to reassure you, show empathy, when you’ve been acting like your head is going to pop and you’re about to have an emotional breakdown?”
This time your jaw dropped, “How-”
“Oh, please,” He snorted, “Your vital signs have been a mess. Constantly in and out of fight or flight mode.”
“You got...all of that..from watching me?”
Now, he was looking at you like you were stupid. Brows raised and head tilted, “Uh, yeah. Duh. Observation and interaction. Ring any bells? Vanessa wasn’t the most emotionally inclined person to be around and she’s the only basis I’ve got.”
Right. Your fingers pressed tighter to your temples and you took a deep breath. Of course, you’d forgotten your medicine before you came back down here.
You did not get paid enough for this shit. If you hashed all this out here and now, you’d spend all night in the basement. Best to start with basics.
“A pat on the shoulder or the back would work. Same with a kid.”
He didn’t look satisfied with that answer, but nodded. Slowly, he stepped into your bubble, making his movements exaggerated so you’d notice them, before slipping a hand around the back of your neck.
You tensed and attempted to pull away,“That’s not-”
Large fingers began to massage at the base of your skull and instantly you turned into jello. Head tilted back against the concrete wall you whimpered. It was an immediate relief as slowly he rubbed away the sharpened edge.
“This okay?”
Mouth like sandpaper, you swallowed, and bobbed your head.
With your approval, his fingertips dug a little harder into the knot that’d formed. Boundaries be damned, this was the first bit of relief you had all day.
You’d figure out how Bonnie knew to do this later.
Once your headache was at a tolerable level, you gently tapped Bonnie’s wrist, signaling him to drop his hold on you. There was no hesitation. He dropped his hand and took a step back, carefully scanning you over.
The embarrassment hit like a sledge hammer. Face hot and teeth digging into your lip, you stared at the ceiling, determined to let the ground swallow you whole. With a groan, you rubbed a palm over your flushed features, trying to gather your wits.
Thankfully, he didn't comment or ask questions, probably getting a plethora of new information base on your reaction.
A deep breath and you pried yourself from the spot, and gestured for him to continue forward. Bonnie, to his credit, merely gave you a once over, before leading you through the labyrinth of tunnels.
Eventually, the two of you did make it to his attraction. Much like the others, Bonnie Bowl had been decked out in neon colors splashed along the walls and lights danced along the floor. The lanes shined with polish, pins and balls neatly organized. Carpet softened your foot steps the farther you stepped inside, no doubt gawking at every detail.
Bonnie watched in patient silence as you took it all in, giving you time to acclimate, before hitting you with, “You wanna play?”
“You know how?”
He arched a brow, “Programmed.”
A light shake of your head failed to clear your thoughts. “Right, um, I think I should look at your manual-” And at that moment, you realized you’d left the tablet and manual in Vanessa’s office. All the way in the basement. On the other side of the Pizzaplex.
Damnit.
A metallic click, then you looked up to come face to face with said tablet and manual in Bonnie’s hands. “How-”
“Can store some things in the chest cavity.”
Right. Because he’s a robot. Not a giant, talking, blue rabbit. Of course. Duh.
A smirk curled his lips, chuckling lowly, “You forgot, huh.” You remained silent and his smirk widened, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “That’s a good thing.”
Somehow, it didn’t feel like it.
You didn’t know what to think of Bonnie.
The remainder of the day you spent in one of the booths, manual open and tablet at your side as you read. Or at least, you pretended to read. In reality, you stared at the words, looked at blueprints, and absorbed nothing.
In the background, low rumbling of music played over head and the echoes of a bowling ball hitting pins filled the air. Once you’d asserted you’d spend today to try and get yourself together, Bonnie’d been all too happy to break in one of the alleys.
With his back to you, you watched his movements. Slow and deliberate. None of the awkward stiffness that’d seemed to be there this morning, or that the other robots you’d encountered had. He seemed at home in this new environment and his body, which was..different.
No jerking movements. Just motion. Your gaze narrowed as he drew back, an impressive flex of apparent synthetic muscles under the blue fur, before he let the ball fly forward and score a perfect strike.
Since when do robots have muscles?
“It’s rude to stare.”
You jumped, dark red eyes glinted in amusement as you suddenly found your place on the page you’d been staring at, and pointedly ignore the rumbling laughter that followed.
This was going to be a long week.
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Donuteater539 on Chapter 2 Fri 11 Apr 2025 01:39PM UTC
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Starburst_Lily15 on Chapter 3 Sun 06 Aug 2023 02:55PM UTC
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