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When Goldie walked into the pizzeria for the first time, he was amazed. Freddy gave him a tour, and it was filled with colorful lights, colors everywhere - even in the arcade, where the lights were dimmed down so you could see the screens, it was still so bright. Everything was crafted to make the kids feel comfortable and happy, and it had the added bonus of truly feeling like home for the animatronics living there. Or maybe it was just Freddy, smiling at him so softly and calling him "little brother," that made it feel like home.
"I hate this." Goldie pouted. He was holding his arm out for Freddy to use the hand-crank on, flinching every time a springlock clicked into place, or [the more common thing] snapping out of place before Freddy could finish and forcing the older bear to start again.
"I know."
Goldie gestured to Freddy with his free arm, huffing. "I mean seriously, who decided to make me like this? You work just fine without this extra....stuff!"
Freddy just nodded, barely glancing over at what Goldie was doing, and he felt a spark of pain as another springlocked clicked, Freddy moving on to the second one that had been triggered by the incident.
"Freddy, you aren't listening!"
"I'm trying to focus, shush." They sat in silence for the next minute, Goldie looking around every inch of backstage and tapping out mindless rhythms on the box he was sitting on, trying to not move so Freddy wouldn't get madder than he already was.
Eventually, Freddy spoke up, moving away from Goldie's arm and going to place the hand-crank back in a drawer. "if I knew who made your design, I would have words with them, don't worry. but, as it goes, you could be worse off."
"...What? Why does that matter, I'm still-" Freddy shot a glare at Goldie, cutting him off.
"You have a brother to take care of you and a management team who cares about you. You could be stuck in a place like Sparky's, where they wouldn't care, and you could be alone."
Goldie stared at Freddy, standing up and moving his arm a few times to [avoid breaking the silence] make sure it wouldn't spontaneously snap again. He heard Freddy's footsteps, moving away from him, and didn't look up until the door closed.
Was he really better off? Wouldn't it be better if he weren't built to break? How could you be in a place where no one cared about you? Goldie couldn't even imagine that.
Goldie stared at Freddy's door, even though it wasn't really Freddy's but the manager's office, instead. Freddy spent most of his time filling out paperwork now, and whatever time Goldie was able to see him he was stressed and wanted to do this or that, or taking care of the kids and Goldie couldn't talk to him while he was doing that anyway - he couldn't stand that fake smile, when everything else about Freddy looked tired.
Goldie pressed his ear up to the door, trying to be quiet, but he couldn't make anything out. Just the sound of quiet mutters from Freddy, angry and pencil on paper, or maybe pen? Freddy did pride himself on not making mistakes, after all.
Goldie wanted to knock on the door. The whole reason he came over here was to invite Freddy to do something, maybe play up how bored he was in order to get Freddy to take a break. But...
He could find something to do by himself. maybe tomorrow, when Freddy was less angry about it. [Freddy was not less angry.]
Goldie felt cold, cold dread work its way up his spine, washing over him like water.
The door was closed. The door was closed, he wasn't- they're gonna open the door soon, right? He wasn't locked in, right? He reached over to the doorknob and tried it, ears flattening against his head at the sound of the lock.
He brought his hand up to his jaw, trying to make noise and only hearing crackling from his voice box. The springlocks snapped, and Goldie didn't know whether it was the tears or the blood, but his voice box was probably soaked. He couldn't call for help. Oh god, does Freddy know he's in here? Was Freddy the one who asked for him to be put in the backroom? Goldie brought his hands up and banged against the door desperately, he couldn't be trapped he couldn't be trapped-
He didn't know for how long he tried to get out, tried to get someone's attention, but it was long enough for whatever energy the bear had ran down, leaving him sitting against the door, curled up in a ball, mouth carefully positioned so the blood didn't land on anything else and cause more problems.
He tried so hard to explain to Freddy what happened - I mean, how do you expect him to say anything when his jaw is literally locked in place?? what was he supposed to do? and Freddy-...
Freddy yelled at him. he didn't think Freddy would blame him, after everything. Didn't- he was talking to other kids in the same room, didn't he see those kids? Didn't he see how hard Goldie struggled to get away, didn't he see any of it?
This felt unfair. Goldie was so alone. He didn't want to be alone, never wanted to be alone. How would- how would Freddy deal with this? He was smart, he was the older brother, whatever he would do would be the correct thing. He would probably try thinking about anything else, right? find something positive to focus on?
...Being in the dark isn't so bad, it's like being in the arcade. He didn't have to look at the blood, he was pretty sure it dried by now. At least it wouldn't snap anything else and land him in a complete springlock failure, if it was dry. At least if he was alone, he wouldn't have to see anyone else look at him in fear, and there wasn't any more screaming.
Goldie took a long breath, slumping down a bit further, letting himself slowly slide down to the floor and relax. There wasn't any point in worrying, it would just make things worse. Freddy always worried, and look what happened. Things were pretty bad, but at least it couldn't get any worse. As far as it goes, he was fine. He was fine.