Archive of Our Own ^beta

Arnold was frozen in fear. He stood in a child's bedroom in the abandoned Murray family home, staring at the machine that had tormented him all night, tiny and curled up like a sleeping child.

Eventually, he relaxed. Almost too much. The adrenaline that had carried him for 6 hours - on top of another 36 hours  awake - was finally subsiding. His legs buckled, and if it weren't for the killing machine sleeping right in front of him, he would've let himself pass out then and there on the floor.

He forced himself upright, and slowly crept out of the room.

Once in the hall, he sighed, and looked to the data diver clipped to his belt. He had what he came for.

Time to go.

He left the abandoned house, and trudged down the hill to his van.

He fumbled for his keys, but his hands were heavy and awkward in his tired state, so he dropped them. He kneeled down to pick them up, and noticed something in his peripheral vision.

A pair of stubby, mechanical legs.

He let out a gasp and joined his keys on the pavement.

Staring at him was that thing. M2. The "rogue endoskeleton" itself. It must've followed him. It just stood there, watching him with wide, blue halogen bulb eyes. It tilted its head to the side, its arms tightening around its white tiger plushie.

"What -, " Arnold sputtered. "What are you doing here?"

It rocked back and forth for a moment. It then spoke, a squeaky recreation of a young child's voice. "I couldn't sleep."

Arnold stared in horror. He thought he was rid of this thing, that the program that strange computer gave him would shut it down for good. But even still, it followed him. In his tired state, he couldn't even think of running anymore. He just sat on the ground, and weakly waved his arms. "Go... go back to bed. Just go."

M2 shook its head. "I don't want to. It's scary up there."

If he had energy left, he would've laughed.

It looked away, half-burying its face in the tiger plushie. Its voice then changed, mimicking someone older. "Everyone's gone."

Arnold recognized it. It was a recording of Edwin Murray, buried in one of those Helpful stations.

He looked at the small machine. It really did look like a child now. From what he gathered, that's what it was designed to be. A recreation of Edwin's son. And now its parents - if you could even call a computer and a deranged inventor "parents" - they were gone. It had no one.

He sighed, pulling himself to his feet. "Fine." He unlocked the van door and slid it open. "Come on, let's go."

M2 looked up, and he swears it was smiling. It hopped on its little feet, then crawled into the van.

Arnold followed after it. It was already poking around his toolbox, his workspace. It even held up its tiger plush to show it what it found. Wow, it really was like a kid.

He looked to his front seat, covered in garbage -  pizza boxes, soda cups, crumpled napkins. The remnants of too many lunches rushed between jobs. It seemed all he ate these days was pizza.  Not that he could complain, at least it was convenient to get on the job site and cheap with his Fazbear employee discount.

He grabbed the pile of trash and shoved it behind his toolbox.

He climbed into the driver's seat.  M2 followed right behind him, crawling into the passenger's seat. It kicked its legs, looking out the window.

Arnold hesitated a moment. "Um..." He reached across the robot, grabbing the seatbelt and buckling it in.

He buckled himself in and started the car. He was grateful to see Murray's Costume Manor disappear into the rear view mirror.

---

Arnold drove down the same pine tree lined road he arrived on. A short while into the journey, his radio crackled to life.

"-nold? Arnold? Do you copy?"

He fumbled for the receiver, swerving across the yellow line. He righted the van, and looked down at M2 in the seat beside him. It looked up at him and smiled. He held his finger to his lips. "Sssh."

M2 copied his movements, and repeated back the "Sssh."

"Uh, copy," Arnold said into the receiver.

"Arnold!" The dispatcher cried in amazement. A rare hint of emotion behind his usual corporate-approved demeanor. "There you are, we've been trying to reach you all night! What happened?"

Oh nothing, he thought in his tired stupor. Spent 6 straight hours being chased by a murderous robot. But it's okay now, I turned it into a kid. Yeah, a computer lady helped me do it. After she stopped pretending to be you, that is. I didn't even realize it wasn't you because she got your grating voice down pat, you pompous as-

"I got the schematics," was all he actually said.

"Great! The motion sensors have gone quiet, does that mean you were able to deactivate the endoskeleton?"

Arnold looked at the passengers seat. "Yeah."

"That's amazing," the dispatcher said smoothly. "We'll check back in on Monday to finish out the job. Keep that data diver safe until then. Enjoy your weekend, you've earned it."

Not much of a weekend, he thought. It was 6 am on a Sunday. But any time off would be welcome at this point.

---

Arnold pulled the van into his driveway. His single-story house seemed miniscule compared to the high-tech manor he'd been in earlier, but it was home.

He looked at the robot in his passenger's seat. It eagerly looked out at the neighborhood outside the window.

Arnold crawled out of his seat, and quickly shuffled M2 inside. It was early morning, so no one was around. He just hoped no one was watching from the other houses.

He closed the door behind him, kicking off his work boots. He watched the little robot begin exploring the house, but his eyes could barely stay open. He yawned. "Just... don't break anything," he muttered.

He shuffled off to his bedroom, leaving his work gloves, jacket, and belt in a trail behind him. He plopped the data diver on his nightstand and collapsed into bed.

The moment his head hit the pillow, he was fast asleep.

 ---

Arnold startled awake to loud music blaring from another room. He blinked his eyes, still groggy. He rolled over in bed and grabbed his alarm clock. It was 3 o'clock in the afternoon.

He sat up, scratching his head and yawning. He rolled out of bed and shuffled into the living room, looking for the source of the music.

There was M2, clutching its tiger plushie with halogen bulb eyes glued to his TV. It was watching some kids' show, with a band of cartoon animals singing a song about how the real treasure is friendship.

He blinked.

Oh .

So that wasn't a dream. He really did bring that thing home with him.

Before he could catastrophize about what he'd done, his stomach rumbled. Keeping his eyes on the little robot, he crossed the living room, and entered his kitchen.

He heated up some leftover pizza and sat down at the kitchen table. It looked like M2 had been here, too. The notepad and loose pens he kept in the junk drawer were laying on the table. A few pages were ripped out and covered in what looked like a child's drawings. He supposed, in a way, they were a child's drawings.

He sifted through them while he ate. They were mostly of the Murrays' characters - the white tiger, the elephant, that creepy clown girl. One drawing caught him off guard. It was M2, holding hands with a crude drawing of Arnold.

He felt a tug at his heartstrings.

He stared at it for a long time. His pizza got cold.

---

Arnold still didn't know what to think of the tiny robot he'd brought to his house. He tried to distract himself with chores. He cleaned the trash out of his van, put his dirty work clothes in the laundry, and now he was vacuuming. But the noise did nothing to drown out his thoughts.

This thing killed people.

It tried to kill him.

It wasn't even human.

And yet, it acted like one. It explored and watched cartoons and drew pictures. It was a kid.

He sighed, turning off the vacuum. It was nighttime now and he was still tired. He ate some cold pizza for dinner, then went to go sleep.

He found M2 standing behind him and jumped. Even in its kid form, it was always sneaking up on him.

It too looked tired, if it was even capable of being tired. Its eyes had dimmed, and its head drooped.

He thought for a moment. It had a bedroom before, in that creepy old house. Maybe it did need to sleep like a human. Hesitantly, he stooped down to the robot. "Is it... your bedtime?"

M2 nodded its head, and even mimicked a yawn.

"Okay..." He lead it down the hall, to the den. He didn't use this room often. It was more aspirational than anything. There was a shelf full of books he hadn't read, and a desk ready for all the projects he never started. But most importantly at this moment, there was a bed in the corner for guests he rarely hosted.

The robot crossed the room, and crawled into bed. It kicked its feet, before rolling over and cuddling its tiger plushie. "Goodnight," it said, in its mimicked child voice.

"Goodnight," Arnold said back. "Uh... sleep tight."

He closed the door behind him. He paused in the hallway. This was all so, so strange, he thought. He shook his head, walking off to his own bedroom.

 ---

Arnold awoke the next morning to his alarm going off. He flipped over in bed, blindly slamming his fist into his alarm clock.

He sat up in bed, rubbing his face. He had to get ready for work. He opened his eyes, and found M2 staring at him from the doorway.

He jumped.

It waved. "Good morning!"

He rubbed his face again. "Good morning," he grumbled.

It smiled, then padded off down the hall. Moments later, he heard the TV turn on.

He was suddenly very, very awake.

He couldn't just leave this child... robot... thing alone all day. What if somebody saw it? What if it wandered outside?

But he couldn't skip work, either. He didn't have any sick days saved up.

He got out of bed, and started pacing. He eventually opened his closet, pulling out his work clothes. His eyes flickered down to a cardboard box shoved to the back. His mom had dropped it off on her last visit. It was filled with old mementos and clothes from his childhood.

It gave him an idea. A really stupid idea.

---

Arnold was dressed for work. And M2 was dressed, too.

Arnold had bundled it up in his old clothes. Under all those bulky layers, it almost looked human. "Okay," he said, placing a baseball cap on its head. "What do you think?"

It looked at itself in the mirror. It hopped up and down. "I like it!"

He sighed in relief. "Good."

It smiled up at him. He frowned slightly. There was no hiding that robotic face. Unless... "I've got one more thing for you. Wait here."

It nodded, and plopped down on the floor in front of the mirror.

He walked outside to his van, and dug around in the cabinets in back. They were filled with random junk from his jobs with Fazbear Ent. He pushed aside old arcade machine parts and the broken arm of an animatronic to find what he was looking for - a box of defective prizes. He grabbed the whole thing and took it inside.

He dropped it on the floor in front of M2, who joined him in rummaging through it. The robot was clearly more interested in the toys, the broken figurines and torn plushies. Arnold instead went for the masks. They had cracks and broken strings, but would be easy enough to fix.

He pulled out a Chica mask. He remembered the old Chica costume back at MCM, the harrowing chase though a maze of cubicles and mailboxes. He shuddered. He was pretty sure he'd never be able to hear the sound of rollerskates the same again.

He held up the mask to the little robot. "Here, you like Chica, right?"

M2 gasped, bouncing excitedly up and down on its knees.

---

Arnold pulled his work van out of the driveway, M2 sitting beside him. It was now fully disguised in Arnold's old clothes and the Chica mask.

Right on schedule, the radio crackled to life. "Arnold, this is dispatch, over."

"This is Arnold."

"We got a request for a technician over at the flagship Fredbear's location. Their kiddie carousel broke down. Should be a pretty simple fix, especially compared to your last job," the dispatcher sounded as smarmy as ever. "Speaking of, you can go ahead and drop off that data diver at the manager's office once you get to Fredbear's. They'll take it from here."

"Got it," Arnold said.

"Amazing," the dispatcher said, before disconnecting.

---

The van pulled into the parking lot of Fredbear's Family Dinner. Arnold grabbed his toolbox and stepped out, M2 stepping out next to him.

It hopped up and down, pointing excitedly at the neon sign depicting the bear himself.

"Remember what I said, stay close to me." Arnold held out his hand.

M2 nodded. It took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

He took a deep breath, and lead it inside.

Inside the pizzeria was a cacophony of sights and sounds. Even in the morning, packs of laughing children ran around the arcade, clambered around the prize counter, and sat in the dining area eating pizza. Music poured from the stage, where the animatronic duo of Fredbear and Spring Bonnie lip-synced to the latest pop music.

He felt M2 tug at his hand. He looked down to see it pointing at the band. "Uh... we'll watch the show after we're done."

M2 in tow, he turned into the arcade. They passed through rows of arcade cabinets and kiddie rides to a pair of doors labeled "Employees Only." He'd finally he able to get rid of the data diver burning a hole in his toolbelt.

Just as he went to open the door, someone opened it from the other side. He stepped back as a man stepped out. He was tall with pointed features, and wore a purple tie to match the pizzeria's mascots. Arnold recognized him from photos that hung in just about every location.

"M-Mr. Afton!" He blurted out.

The company's co-founder chuckled.  "You must the technician I've heard so much about - Arnold, right?" He reached out and took his hand.

"Oh - um," Arnold started, fumbling into the handshake. "You've heard of me?"

Afton smiled, far too wide. It reminded Arnold of the smile you'd see on a mascot costume. "Of course, I make it my business to learn about all my employees." His eyes flickered down to M2, who stared up at him with bright, blue eyes. He raised an eyebrow. "And who's this?"

"Um... this is my... nephew." He sputtered. "Uh, not really nephew, per-se, more of a kid of a family friend. I'm watching him today. Uh, will be watching him for a while, really."

"I see." Afton stooped down to M2's height. "And what's your name?"

Arnold froze. "Uh..." They never decided on a name. He braced for his lie to all come crashing down.

"I'm David," M2 answered.

Afton's eyes went wide for a moment. He furrowed his brow, then relaxed back into his wide smile. "Hi David, I'm William. It's nice to meet you."

Arnold sputtered, then cut in. "I hope this isn't a problem. It was sort of last minute."

Afton just stood up. "It's no trouble at all. My children are here today, too. What better place to for the kids to spend the day?" He chuckled.

Arnold nervously chuckled with him.

"In fact," he continued. "You look about my eldest's age." He looked around the arcade, eyes landing on a group of children crowded around the skee-ball machines. "Michael, come here," he called.

A boy wearing a Foxy mask pulled away from the others. He quietly walked up, sheepishly removing the mask. He was the striking image of his father, 20 years younger. "Yeah?" he grumbled. He clearly wasn't happy being called away from his game.

"Michael, this is David. His uncle and I have important grown-up things to discuss, would you mind playing with him for a while?"

Michael looked at the other child and hesitated, a sneer still lingering on his face. M2 pointed at the Foxy mask in his hands. "I like your mask."

Michael relaxed. He gave a small grin, and put his mask back on. "Come on," he said, leading him over to the skee-ball machines. In no time, they began playing together.

Arnold unconsciously held a hand out to stop them. He knew its disguise was a flimsy one. "Be safe!" he called after it.

Afton chuckled. "It's always hard seeing them go off on their own." He clapped Arnold on the shoulder. "Come on, let's discuss your last job."

Arnold had hoped to simply drop off the data diver and move on. But Mr. Afton left no room to refuse. He let him lead him into the back office.

Afton easily settled behind the desk. He gestured for Arnold to sit in one of the folding chairs across from him. Once he sat down, Afton held out his hand. "The data diver, please."

"Oh, yeah." Arnold twisted to the side, pulling the diver off his toolbelt. "Here."

Afton took it eagerly. He turned to the blocky computer on the desk. He opened a drawer, pulling out what looked like a crude recreation of a data diver port. He plugged that into the computer, then plugged the diver into the port.

There was a beep, and the files appeared on the computer screen. He smiled, wide and toothy. "Excellent. Good job, Arnold."

Arnold shifted in his seat. "Yeah, it's all there." He slowly started to rise. "Now I have to go, the carousel is-"

Afton held up a hand, commanding him to sit down. "The carousel can wait. I want to hear about the job. The endoskeleton, the one from these schematics. What happened to it?"

Arnold swallowed a lump in his throat. "It - it was destroyed." He hoped he sounded convincing. "The place was practically falling apart. It got crushed under the rubble."

He sat back, folding his hands together. "I see," he said at length.

"Was that all, or...?"

Afton shook his head. "No. I need to ask, did you take anything? I wouldn't blame you, the Murrays created a lot of wonderful things, and it'd be a shame to leave it all rotting in that old building. But anything taken from the MCM premises is legally Fazbear Entertainment property. So if you took any souvenirs... they'd need to be returned promptly."

"No - no, sir," he sputtered. "Trust me, I don't want anything to do with that stuff."

Afton raised an eyebrow. He just stared for the longest time.

Arnold squirmed under his cold gaze.

Eventually, he relaxed. "Good." Afton sat back, and began to reminisce. "You know, the Murrays were friends of mine. They were such brilliant creators. But Edwin, well, he was a terrible businessman. He just let it all fall apart. Such a shame..." 

He then smiled, all too wide. Again he reminded Arnold of a mascot costume. A wide smile, but with blank eyes and empty insides.

"Thanks to you, we'll be able to send full reclamation team out to MCM. All that brilliant work won't go to waste."

"Uh... good. That's good." Arnold shifted in his seat. "Will I be...?"

"Assigned to the reclamation team?" Afton finished. "Maybe, the logistics of the project still needs to be worked out. You certainly have the expertise for it. But I understand your circumstances have changed since your last job. You have a child to take care of."

Arnold relaxed slightly. "Oh?"

"I'm a father. I understand how difficult it can be juggling work and family." He smiled, standing and holding out his hand. "So, I won't hold you up any longer. I'll put in a word with dispatch, make sure you schedule isn't quite as grueling. You've earned it."

He sat there, dumbfounded. "Oh, uh..." He jumped to his feet, and shook his hand. "Thank you, Mr. Afton."

He chuckled again. His eyes flickered back to the computer screen. "Thank you, Arnold."

---

Arnold stepped out of the office feeling strange.  He certainly felt a weight off his shoulder. He'd finally cleaned his hands of that awful job, and would be rewarded with an easier schedule.

But he felt a new weight settling around him. Afton's words echoed in his head.

You have a child to take care of.

He really hadn't thought ahead when he brought M2 home. He had just reacted.

He never planned to have a kid to care for. It was just another aspiration he never got around to - maybe some day, if he met the right partner. And this certainly wasn't the kind of kid he thought he'd ever have. Who plans to have a robot child?

Edwin Murray, he thinks wryly, that's who. But Edwin's... dead, probably, because even he didn't know what to do with this thing.

Arnold blinked. Where was M2 anyway? He felt panic grip him as he wildly looked around the arcade.

The moment of panic passed quickly though, as he saw M2 standing at an arcade cabinet with Michael. Both held rubber mallets, and excitedly slammed down at tiny rabbits as they popped out of the cabinet. M2 was doing well. A little too well for Arnold's comfort.

He walked over as the game buzzed and stopped.

M2 didn't notice him at first, high-fiving Michael before ducking down to grab the tickets pouring out.

"Hey... David," he said the name slowly. He wasn't quite comfortable calling him that. Wait, him? When did he start thinking of this thing as him?

M2 jumped up, hands filled with tickets. "Uncle Arnold! Look!"

Oh. He didn't tell him to call him that. He felt that tug at his heartstrings again. He smiled. "Good job."

M2 hopped up and down. He looked to Michael, then back at Arnold. "Can I keep playing?"

"Yeah, I still have to fix the carousel. I'll come get you when I'm done, okay?"

He nodded. In a blink of an eye, he was running off with Michael again, clambering around the next open game.

---

Arnold stooped down inside the carousel, surrounded on all sides by smiling, plastic animals. He tried to ignore them as he opened up the hatch in the middle. Looks liked the fuses had burned out, and the circuits were fried.

He flipped open his toolbox, finding some replacement fuses. It would be a quick repair, but it was slow going. He couldn't stop looking over his shoulder to watch M2.

He saw M2 and his new playmate had abandoned the arcade cabinets for a game of tag. They raced between the rows of games at breakneck speeds. They were laughing. They were having fun.

Michael was "it", running fast after M2. He caught him, shoving him hard. Too hard.

M2 stumbled forward, falling to the ground. The Chica mask fell away, bouncing across the floor.

Arnold dropped the fuses in his hand. "Oh no," he muttered. He jumped to his feet and clambered off of the carousel. "No, no, nonono -"

Michael stood over M2's prone body, eyes wide behind the Foxy mask. "Hey, are you...?"

M2 suddenly sat up, clapping a hand over his face. He began to whimper, and ran off. "Uncle Arnold!" he wailed, colliding with Arnold just as he reached the arcade floor.

"Hey!" Arnold exclaimed, as the heavy metal endoskeleton hit his knees. He felt a pit in his stomach as he heard M2 begin to cry. He didn't know if he was just mimicking the sound to cover his face. He didn't care. He comforted him all the same. "Hey, you're okay. You're okay." He patted his back.

Michael came up moments later. He held the Chica mask in his hands, and looked at the floor. "I'm sorry," he muttered, holding out the mask.

Arnold took it. He placed the mask over M2's face, careful to keep his exposed, robotic face hidden. "Is that better?"

M2 slowly nodded. He turned to Michael, and nodded again. "I'm okay." He then suddenly tapped the boy on the shoulder. "You're it!"

He ran off. Michael laughed, and chased after him, shouting "No fair!"

Arnold watched them run off. He took a deep breath. Crisis averted.

---

Arnold finished the repairs on the carousel. He found M2 alone at the prize counter, cashing in his tickets. The girl at the counter handed him a plushie of Fredbear. He grabbed it eagerly and pulled it to his chest.

"Hey," Arnold said. "I'm all done here. Let's go."

M2 blinked up at him, then shook his head. "We'll watch the show after we're done," he said, perfectly mimicking Arnold's voice.

"I did say that, didn't I?" He sighed. "Alright, but we're leaving when it's over."

M2 hopped up and down. He took Arnold's hand, and dragged him towards the show area.

After a quick pitstop at the pizza counter, they settled at a small table right in front of the stage. The lights dimmed and spotlights shown on the animatronic band. M2 clapped as music poured from the stage speakers.

Arnold chewed on a slice of pizza, watching him with a gentle smile.

He never planned for this. He supposed he'd handle it like he did any other job, react to what came next.

Take it one day at a time.