Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Starting up...

Free-roam Mode. On.

[Objective]: Tend to and repair any maintenance issues that Roxanne, Freddy, Chica, and Montgomery may report. Any additional tools needed for repairs are located in Parts and Services.

[Management Report]: Previous human technician to the main glamrock robots had...an unfortunate incident with Monty after installation of his new claws. Data collected from security footage suggests to avoid Montgomery during his more volatile episodes, only when absolutely necessary.

Blinking as you read through your core functions and tasks, you pull yourself up from the reclining position you're in - on what your computer system tells you is the Parts and Services' robot upgrade dock.

Scanning the room, you're quick to take notice of a blonde woman, who looks at you with a slight frown. Scanning your database for her, you find that she's the night security guard of the pizzaplex, Vanessa.

"Guess you're the new robot that upper management was talking about taking the place of the last technician. Something about cutting losses with unreliable employees?" She says, waving her hand around.

"The last guy just suddenly disappeared. Didn't even show up for his last scheduled shift..." Her frown deepening as she mumbles the last part of her statement.

Looking up at you as you move to stand, she goes to pull out her flashlight.

"They told me that you'd already be programmed with your tasks and the layout of the pizzaplex, but there's been so many glitches with the robots lately - I don't want to chance it. So, I'm just going to show you around the building and then I'll let you do your job by yourself. Got it?"

You tilt your head in question. Your tasks were programmed as to prioritize the glamrock robots and their malfunctions, so it would be unlikely that you would have any of their core issues.

Nevertheless, staring at the night guard standing before you, your optics focused on her deep under-eye circles and the crease between her eyebrows...

It would be more efficient to have a first-hand experience with every nook and cranny in the pizzaplex, just in case of an emergency.

You nodded.

"Good. Now let's go upstairs, I don't have all night."



☆☆☆☆☆



"...And that's basically all of the pizzaplex." Vanessa states, as you finish your exploration of the building and find yourself near the entrance.

"I'd already checked on the Glamrock band to see if they were in their rooms before I went to Parts and Services to get you, so I'll be in the security camera room if you need me."

"Affirmative." You reply, as the security guard turns to look at you.

Pursing her lips, she sighs as she starts to walk pass you. "Yeah, well, try not to need me."

Watching as she quickly walks out of sight, you then start to make your way towards the glamrock robots' rooms.

Pulling up your tasks list on your internal interface as you head towards Chica's room, you see that for tonight you have only two tasks.

[Maintenance order #1]: Chica's frequent trash eating has caused her jaw to start to lock up, clean and remove any debris from her beak.

[Maintenance order #2]: Roxanne had her leg dented by an unruly child during a birthday party, repair the dent and check for any sign of the paint being chipped.

Based on past maintenance orders from the previous mechanic, Chica's jaw locking from eating various things was a routine occurance. So you'd more than likely be doing a routine check-up at least once a week, just on the glamrock chicken alone.

Stopping at her door you pulled out your keycard and scanned it before entering.

Taking a few steps into the room, it takes the glamrock robot a few seconds to notice you standing by the door, since she seemed preoccupied with eating what seemed to be pizza from the kitchen. Though as soon as she notices you, she's quick to try to hide it out of sight, under a pillow within arm's reach.

"Hiya! Um...you're the new robot technician that the manager and Vanessa told us about, right?" Chica questions, as she tries to play off what she was doing mere seconds before.

"Hello, Glamrock Chica. Yes, I am the new maintenance technician. I am mainly a caretaker for the Glamrock band, but can be used to repair S.T.A.F.F. robots and other animatronics found in the pizzaplex, if need be."

"Oh, well - you probably already know but my jaw keeps locking during my performances, and it's making the kids look at me funny during meet-and-greets." Chica says as she stands to give you better access to her body. "Guess it looks kinda odd when you're voice box is working, but your mouth isn't moving!"

Letting her chatter as you check her access panels to make sure they're in working order before moving onto the main repair, you then position yourself in front of her before replying, "The wiring in your access panels seem to be in working order, now please open your mouth."

"Got'cha!" Opening her mouth, you begin sifting through the various pieces of garbage and what your optics notice is weeks-old food, haphazardly stuck inside her beak - effectively also getting stuck in her joints.

Taking your time making sure to thoroughly clean her mouth and oiling the joints in the process, you then repeat the process over with her chest cavity. Almost an hour later - you lean back from the animatronic, signaling that you're done.

Testing out her beak by opening and closing her beak as wide as possible, she gives you a thumbs up. "Feeling better already, thanks! It was started to get hard for me to eat, so now I don't gotta worry about that."

Observing the chicken animatronic as you open your chest cavity to put away your equipment, you reply, "Please refrain from stuffing foreign objects into your mouth, our bodies cannot process food or other miscellaneous items like humans can."

"Ah-ah! Technically that's true, but they also programmed us with taste buds and the ability to feel pleasure." Chica gives you a smile before continuing.

"So what's the point in giving us that, if it isn't to enjoy the tastes and pleasures of food and garbage? Nothing compares, in my opinion! Well, except maybe giving Roxy smooches." Chica replies, as she picks up her guitar and starts to strum a few notes.

You...didn't understand. Yes, most of the main entertainment robots in the pizzaplex had some human-like function capabilities, but indulging in those capabilities to the point where they were unable to function?

That was something that seemed illogical to you.

You hummed in response, not finding a response necessary as the glamrock animatronic was now completely immersed in playing her instrument, seemingly done with your conversation.

Leaving Chica's room, you thought about what glamrock band member you had to go to next.

You knew Roxy was really the only one in need of maintenance now that you had attended to Chica, but your programming urged you want to seek out all the glamrock robots, just to be certain.

So the closest room that was next, would be Montgomery's.



☆☆☆☆☆



Heading closer to his room, the destructive sounds that you had tuned out when in Chica's room because you were so focused on maintenance, grew louder.

Standing before Monty's door, keycard in hand - you listened to Monty's rampage.

Thunderous stomping could be heard from inside the room, only stopping when the alligator animatronic (presumably) picked up an object in his room and smashed it against the closest wall.

Hearing as much as you needed to for now - you let go of your keycard, the lanyard flopping against your chest quietly.

Heeding the maintenance report's warning, you turned away from the animatronic alligator's door, as you continued onto the next animatronic's room.

While you did want to check on each individual animatronic's wellbeing, regardless of whether or not there was a maintenance order for them - it was not at the expense of the very likely, possibility of being stripped down to your endoskeleton by an angry animatronic.

If said animatronic in question, was functional enough to destroy their room - they could wait another day for a check-up.

Rationalizing your decision, you did make a quick report to management to send a replacement of furniture and other items found in Montgomery's room - as you were certain that you had heard the alligator throw something considerably large at the wall before you left.

Knocking softly on Roxy's door as a formality before entering, you were quickly lunged at by the wolf animatronic, as she pulls you by the lanyard around your neck, towards her vanity chair.

"Finally! I knew that we had a new staff bot for repairs, but I didn't think you'd take as long as the human we had before!"

Positioning you to where you're on your knees before the chair, Roxy quickly sitting down in it before thrusting her leg towards your face - dent, clear as day.

"Now fix this, I can't be perfect if I have an imperfection on my leg." She growls.

Not wanting to agitate the wolf animatronic's mood further, you wordlessly nod as you open your chest cavity and pull out a dent puller.

Grabbing her leg lightly, to position it better - you then apply the suction to the dent, making sure it's completely stuck on her leg before giving it a tug.

It comes off with a loud pop, along with the dent.

Lowering Roxy's leg, you then retrieve the suction to put back into your chest cavity, standing up as you do so.

"I have finished your requested maintenance for the day, but if you'd like I can also check your internal wiring and frame for any irregularities." You state, as you watch her inspect the area where her dent used to be.

Satisfied with what she doesn't find, Roxanne looks up at you and frowns. "No, I'd known if there was something wrong with my body. Your job's done now, so get out of my room."

Waiting a couple of seconds to make sure that's her final decision - you then comply with her demand, heading towards the door.



☆☆☆☆☆



Finding yourself at the last animatronic's room, Glamrock Freddy, you repeat process that you had with Roxanne.

You're quick to notice that he seems the least hostile of the band (from what you've seen and heard), which lends itself to a quick inspection of the robotic bear.

His programmed politeness also shines through when he walks you to his door and gives a friendly send off, exclaiming that, "You did great on your first day of your job Thank you for checking up on me, technician!"

To which you respond that, "It is in my programming to be a competent technician, otherwise I would be quickly decommissioned.", before leaving.



☆☆☆☆☆



Making your way back to Parts and Services, you pull up your interface to check how low your battery is.

[Battery]: 47%

A good percentage to be at, you still should attempt to be at a hundred percent, you think to yourself. Since, while your programming had you set up to start your duties at twelve o'clock sharp, at night - you could still be called on, at all hours, if requested.

Seeing that it's around halfway full, you plug yourself into your recharge station.

Closing your eyes as you feel yourself start to trickle in some power from your station, you then begin to go over your collected footage from the night.

Simultaneously taking down notes of what you had seen so far of Glamrock band's personalities as you reviewed the footage, to better learn how to handle the robots you'd be working with the most - you find yourself coming up with one definitive fact about the band.

They were undoubtedly going to make your job as the new staff technician, difficult.

Chapter Text

1:30 p.m. 

[Management Report]: The Daycare Attendant, Sun, has been entertaining a large group of kids today - some of the kids in said group, thought it would be funny to play tug-of-war with Sun's limbs, and one arm was popped off. The daycare is temporarily closed for now, as Sun is waiting for maintenance in his room. 

Opening your eyes upon getting an incoming task, you remove yourself from your charging station and start to make your way to Superstar Daycare. 

Passing both adults and kids alike, you're greeted with the sound of music and screaming children. 

Seeing as it was the middle of the day, the noise was more than likely coming from a daytime performance from the pizzaplex's mascots. 

Happening a glance at the main stage from your relatively far position of the crowd of kids that was starting to form, you couldn't help take in the scene of unbridled happiness that came over the children's faces upon seeing the glamrock band start their performance. 

And perform they did. From an outsider's perspective you would probably think they were the spitting image of perfectly functioning robots. Nothing of the uncanny human-like displays of behavior, from the night before. 

Slowing your pace, watching Freddy sing and Roxanne, Chica, and Montgomery play their instruments - you were quickly pulled out of your stupor when a child suddenly threw a drink towards the stage. 

...Where it promptly splattered right onto Montgomery. 

Halting entirely, your processor worked into overdrive, you quickly change direction towards the alligator animatronic. After all, soda was a sticky substance and could damage the interior mechanical joints and gears of an animatronic, if left alone. 

Cleaning it would take no more than a few minutes, and then you would be on your way to see the daycare atten- 

"Take a map!" Stopping in your tracks as a Map Bot shoves a map into the field of vision of your mask, you briefly refocus your optics onto the main stage. 

The performance now coming to a close, you watch as the platform that the band is on starts to lower back down out of sight, likely to their recharge stations. 

Feeling a sharp pressure at the sight, you swiftly check your internal gear and wire statuses - seeing nothing wrong, you then point your attention back to the Map Bot in front of you. 

"I am not a guest. I am an S.T.A.F.F. bot, like you. So, I do not need a map." You state, trying, and failing, to push the map away from your face. 

"Take a map!" It reiterates. 

You tilt your head at its insistence on taking the map. Was the robot malfunctioning? Recognizing that you were already running behind on your maintenance order, you decide to do diagnostics scan of the robot - in any case, that it is. 

Optics dilating before scanning the robot in front of you, it holding stock-still - the interior endoskeleton of the robot pops up on your screen, along with the blueprints of it, as you do so. 

Seeing as it made no attempt to acknowledge your statement and there was no internal damage as far as you could tell, you suppose that it was programmed only to hand out maps - if a bit too forcefully, and nothing else. 

"Take a map!"

You take a map.

☆☆☆☆☆

"Hello! Nice'ta meet ya! I'm Sun - come on in, friend!" The daycare attendant exclaims, giving you a vigorous handshake, as you enter his room. "If I had known I'd have company over today, I'd have tidied up a little more - but my hands are otherwise occupied, at the moment!" He emphasizes, waving his limp limb around, wires visibly peeking out from his shoulder. 

"That would be unnecessary, as I am not a cleaner bot, and am unconcerned with the level of cleanliness of your room." You state, pulling your hand away from his. 

"Oh, don't say that! It's always preferred to leave a good first impression on a new friend!" The manic animatronic replies, avoiding the littered merchandise scattered across the floor with practiced ease, before sitting down on a nearby crate. 

Following his lead, though with much less grace - you opt to stand for the repair, needing the height advantage over the tall robot to reach his shoulder socket - even with him sitting down. 

Opening your hatch and setting up the tools you needed to complete the repair, the attendant watches you with keen interest. 

"So, friend - how're you liking the pizzaplex, so far? I'm guessing you've met the band already - hope you didn't get too starstruck!" He giggles, playfully swinging his legs to and fro. 

"They're really a swell bunch - and oh so, fun to see perform! Though, between you and me, Monty's my bestest pal! We're two peas in a pod!" 

"Is that so?" You offhandedly reply, taking off Sun's arm casing to take a better look at the damaged wires underneath. 

"Company files and numerous human staff complaints, did not inform me of this. I was advised not to engage with him when he is upset, so he is the only glamrock member that I have not met yet." 

He blows a disapproving raspberry at your reply, before continuing. "Yep! My buddy's a real nice guy. He doesn't deserve the horrible reputation that the human staff gives him! So I hope you'll give him a chance - Oh! Where're my manners, I don't think I caught your name!" 

Optics laser-focused on splicing and soldering the exposed wires on the animatronic's arm - you almost miss his question - until your audial receptors pick up on the unusual silence, and you look up to see the robot expectantly waiting for an answer. 

"I do not have an official name, like you or other entertainment animatronics. I am simply the S.T.A.F.F. animatronic technician." You state, finishing the last of the damaged wiring, then proceeding to put away your soldering iron, before put Sun's casing back in place. 

Taking a step back from the animatronic, you motion for him to stand up. "Please make several motions to test the functionality of your repair, do you feel any discomfort?" 

Doing as he's told, he makes several quick motions with his arm, before doing a couple jumping jacks and then giving you a grin. "Everything feels dandy! Now, what's this about not having a name?" 

Malfunction now fixed, the daycare attendant wastes no time in letting out all the hyperactive energy that he had held in during the repair process, out. Entering your personal space, and circling around you to inspect your form before quickly plucking the blank, white mask that you wore - off your face. 

Index finger on his nonexistent lips as he leans in closer, his optics roam over the features of your face. "You don't look like any S.T.A.F.F. robot I've ever seen." He hums. 

The previous feeling from earlier in the day returns tenfold, as you feel as if your wires are on fire. A quick internal diagnostics scan, and your report once again, comes back clean. 

"I am of the same type of S.T.A.F.F. robot seen in the facility, with no aforementioned AI personality chip. Thus, I cannot feel emotions like you or the other main entertainment animatronics. The only difference is, that I am designed to look more friendly to children, as there have been complaints from parents that regular S.T.A.F.F. robot's face plates are too intimidating when interacting with them. Though my face plate is merely a prototype." You respond. 

"My mask's purpose is also not to draw attention away from the entertainment bots, if needed to do quick maintenance in a public setting." You add, gaze flicking from your mask to the animatronic's face, calculating the chances of being able to grab it back. 

Tapping his fingers on your mask as he processes the information you gave him, he comes to one conclusion. 

"Hm...so that means...we could pick out a name for you, together!" He cries, his shrill voice rising in excitement, causing you to flinch from the volume blasting your audial receptors. 

"Oh-oh! How about, Rumpelstiltskin?" 

"No, no - that's not a good fit..." 

"Ah! How about Cinderella?" 

"Oh - I know! I know! Skeletor!" 

"Mm...no, that's not it..." 

Having an inkling that task of Sun picking out a name for you would take quite some time - you make an attempt to switch topics. 

"While we're on the topic of animatronics and their functions, I wonder about yours. Are you not build to withstand rough playtime with young children? What caused your disrepair?" You question, full well knowing the answer. 

The sunny animatronic pauses in his mumbling, focusing his attention back on you. Seeing you put your hand out in a silent attempt to retrieve your mask - he then gives it to you, frown gracing his features, at the mention of your question. 

"Well, guess some older kids came into the daycare when I wasn't looking and wanted to play a game with me and - pop! There goes my arm!" The animatronic explains, his voice losing a bit of his jovial tone, becoming tight as he recounts how he became damaged. 

Studying Sun's expression as you go to put your mask back in place, you reply, "I would recommend you to call the daytime security guard, if an incident like this occurs again." 

"Yeah...will do, buddy." He replies, absentmindedly playing with the bells on his wrist. 

Making sure you have everything you need as you make way to leave, your maintenance task complete - you give one last glance to the animatronic as you near the door. 

Noticing his demeanor is considerably dimmer than before, following your questioning, you pause. 

"I...It is unnecessary, but I will make a list of name options, and will return to see if you deem them acceptable." 

No sooner had those words left your voicebox, that the daycare animatronic leapt from across the room to pull you into a bone-crushing hug. 

"Oh, you really mean it?! I won't let you down! I'll help you pick the best name, ever!" He exclaims, before putting you back down. 

"You think up really good names, while you're away - and I'll try not to get so damaged the next time we meet!" He continues, pushing you towards the door. 

"It's a promise!" He says in a sing-song tone, as he pushes you out of the room - not letting you get a response in - and promptly slamming the door in your face.

Not fully understanding how one robot's mood could change so fast, your processor is abruptly interrupted by an incoming maintenance order. 

And with that, you continue on to your next task.

Chapter Text

"What do you mean my membership is going to be suspended?! My kid wasn't doing anything wrong - you damn machines are just faulty!" The enraged mother in front of you, yelled. 

Standing in front of the entrance of Roxy's Raceway, you run through your CPU memory data bank to see how you ended up in such a precarious situation.

☆☆☆☆☆ 

You had originally made your way to Roxy's Raceway to fix a malfunctioning Driver Assist bot, going through the list of maintenance orders that seemed to flood in, after repairing the daycare attendant earlier in the day. 

A relatively short time later, you were ready for the next maintenance order as you made your way back out of the raceway attraction...only to find that the next robot in need of repair was closer than you thought. 

Barely taking a couple of steps out of entrance of the raceway, you had stumbled upon the Party bot that was assigned to the raceway entrance - fully functional, not an hour earlier - now in disrepair on the floor. A child guest hovering over it, ripped out wires in hand. 

Silently sending a message to management and the daytime security guard about the situation, you took a couple steps towards the child.

And no sooner had you locked eyes to optics, that the child made way to run. Though not successfully, as your much larger steps quickly caught up with the boy's smaller ones - you effectively catching the boy by the shoulders. 

Only then, for the boy to let out a ungodly shriek of, "Mommy!", also (unfortunately) catching the attention of his mother nearby...

☆☆☆☆☆

   ...Which is where you were now. 

Optics flicking from the disgruntled parent before you, to the child behind her, you take note of the Fazer Blaster is his hand. 

While Fazbear Entertainment was lacking in areas regarding robots malfunctioning - taking in the scene before you, you would disagree that that was the case here. 

It was more likely that the child stole and used the fazer blaster on the S.T.A.F.F. robot to make it malfunction for their own amusement and curiosity...curiosity that eventually led to them rendering the bot before you, immobile. 

Wires that would normally be connected to the S.T.A.F.F. party robot's chestpiece lower half and limbs, were instead disconnected and strewn out, as its prone form laid crumpled on the floor - its wheels still whirring in a fruitless attempt to stand up. 

"That membership wasn't cheap, and I'm not about to let a hunk of metal tell me what I can and can't do! I want to speak to management - a human! Not a piece of crap machine!" She continued, harshly jabbing her finger into your chest plate. 

"I am sorry -", you repeat, light emitting from your optics as you scan the woman in front you to find her guest profile, "- Mrs. Darcy Davidson. Tampering with Fazbear Automated S.T.A.F.F. will result in suspension of your membership. It is company protocol." 

Seeing the woman's temperature increase at your reply - you checked the status of your message. The response was short and to the point. A human S.T.A.F.F. member is on their way. 

Whoever was on duty was no doubt on their way to your location, and hopefully help de-escalate the situation. You just needed to wait until they arrived, then you could fix the disassembled robot in front of you, that your AI programming was burning to order you to do. 

Putting on a friendly smile as your mask shifts out of view, in an effort to ease the mother's temper, you state, "A human S.T.A.F.F. member will be here momentarily.". 

The scowling woman visibly flinches, whether it be from your statement or your smile, you're not too sure. Shifting her weigh from one foot to the other, the grip on her large purse tightens. 

You take note of the perspiration starting to form on her forehead.

...Maybe it would be more productive to try to get fazer blaster from the child, you think. Your AI programming abilities more proficient in fixing animatronics, than your social abilities when interacting with guests.

"Please hand over the fazer blaster." You calmly say, hand outstretching towards the little boy - in an effort to retrieve the laser gun, without being blasted yourself. 

"They are not to go anywhere other than the Fazer Blast attraction, and the receptacle located outsid-" 

WHACK! 

So focused on retrieving the laser gun, your processors didn't pick up on the mother swinging her bag at you - until it connected with your head. 

[ERROR] 

[ERROR] 

[INTERNAL DAMAGE DETECTED] 

"Don't get near him! Are you calling my son a thief!?" 

Head now turned a hundred and eighty degrees, and your figure now knocked onto the floor next to the party bot - your audial processors vaguely hear a pair of feet running towards your location. 

"What is going on here?!" A voice exclaims. 

Hands gripping your head, you turn it back to its original position. Lifting yourself off the floor - you see that the voice you hear turns out to be the manager, Steven - with Vanessa in tow. 

Pointing an accusatory finger at you, "This - this thing! Tried to put their hands on my child!" the mother cries. 

Turning to look at you, the lanky manager gives you a questioning look. 

"Well?" He probes. 

"I-I w-wa -" You barely manage to sputter out, before your voice box gives out. 

[ERROR] 

[INTERNAL DAMAGE DETECTED] 

Hand lifting to your mouth, you frown. Seeing how your voice box was located directly behind your mouth, it was no wonder it had gotten damaged when you had got hit in the head. 

Noticing your predicament, the manager lets out a sigh before turning back to the guest. 

"I'm so sorry for the distress, Ma'am." He says, plastering on a smile. "Sometimes the robots around here can get a little quirky. How about a discounted V.I.P. membership for your troubles, hm?" 

"Hmph! That should be a given." The mother replies, anger starting to drain from her face. 

Putting a hand on her shoulder, as he leads the disgruntled mother and child towards the atrium, he briefly turns and mumbles a quick, take care of this mess, to Vanessa before walking out of sight. 

Silently watching the whole interaction go down, Vanessa turns to you with a scowl. 

Uncrossing her arms from her chest, she walks towards you - stopping just short, of making contact with you. 

"Unless you want to become disassembled, I don't recommend picking fights with the guests." 

Turning towards the robot, she then crouches down next to it - sticking out her hand at you, as she does so. 

"Give me the tools in your chest compartment, so I can fix this thing and go back to work." She demands. 

Voice box no longer working, you merely shake your head no. As far as your data logs were concerned, she did not have the experience to repair animatronics. 

"Hurry up, I don't have all day." She persists, sensing your hesitation. "I can tell you're having some internal issues going on, after that lady hit you. It's better for me to fix this easy external issue, than for you to try and malfunction on the job, and make it worse." 

Still hesitant, you eventually relent as her argument makes logical sense. 

Still...you watch her work very closely, just in case. 

A short while later, the party robot is up and running. 

Readjusting her hat as she gives the S.T.A.F.F. robot one last check, she then turns to look at you. 

"See? Jack of all trades, you could call me. Now let's check what damage was done to you." She mumbles, hands reaching for your face before you could react - 

"Vanessa! Vanessa, are you there?" A voice crackles out from her walkie-talkie. 

Stopping in her tracks, she pulls the device off her belt and presses the button on it to answer. 

"Yeah, I'm here. What's wrong?" 

"Some kid has been pushing people into the ponds in Gator Golf. Parents are pissed, and no one has been able to catch the little sucker. Could you go over there?" The voice sighs. 

Eyes still on you, she hums before responding. "Yeah, on my way." 

Latching the walkie-talkie back onto her waist, she then goes to put the tools back in your chest, shutting the compartment as she does. 

"Guess I won't be patching you up today. Doesn't seem that your damage is that serious, but if it is and you can't fix it, you can always call management." 

You nod. Running an internal diagnostics check as you watched her work, you could confirm that it was nothing more than a damaged voice box. An easy repair. 

"Oh! And before I forget," the person on the radio abruptly crackles out, "if you're still around the new tech robot - could you tell it that Monty was looking for them? That he had put in a maintenance request earlier in the day, but still hasn't been attended to, or something like that - I don't know. Thanks!" 

Looking up at you, as the walkie cuts out - Vanessa rolls her eyes. 

"Well, you heard the boss. Gotta attend to Fazbear's stars." Patting your chest, she gives you a small smile before heading towards Gator Golf. 

"Good luck." She monotonely calls out, waving a hand out as you watch her leave. 

You guess fixing your voice box would have to wait a little bit longer.

Chapter Text

Scanning through your list of maintenance orders throughout the day, you realize you did receive a maintenance request from Montgomery.

Several of them, in fact.

[Maintenance Order #5]: Montgomery has requested assistance with a disturbance in his chest plate. Cleaning supplies may be required.

[Maintenance Order #12]: Due to the number of performances scheduled today, Montgomery has asked for a check-up because of discomfort in his wires and joints.

[Maintenance Order #19]: If the technician could please report to Montgomery's green room, A.S.A.P. - preferably before the last performance of the day - that would be great.

Today being an especially hectic and busy day, Monty's request for a maintenance check was no doubt pushed down the list as the order of repairs you needed to get to, grew.

Checking the timestamp of the last request sent, you noted that the final one had been sent hours ago.

You couldn't put his maintenance order off any longer.

Making your way down Rockstar Row to Monty's green room, you knock twice to announce your presence before opening the door.

The door swooshing open, you're met with a resounding silence that greatly contrasts the loud sounds of destruction, you had heard the night you had come online.

Taking in the state of the room, it seems almost spotless. None of the items in Montgomery's room show any signs of damage, and seemed almost new. With how fast they had replaced everything in the room - it was safe to assume that because of the bassist's temper, Fazbear's had replicas ready on-site for this specific reason.

The animatronic gator in question, sitting slouched against his couch - optics solely focused on the ceiling, lazily tossing a golf ball above his head.

"Well, if it isn't the elusive new tech bot...finally finished slacking off on the job, eh?" The gator drawls, not even bothering to lift his head from the couch to look at you, as you enter the room.

Catching the tossed golf ball out of midair, he deftly flicks his wrist at you, throwing the ball your way - hitting you squarely in the chest. "You're late, last show's already ended."

Watching the ball bounce off your exterior and roll a few feet away from you, you look back at the glamrock animatronic expectantly.

As if he feels you staring, he grumbles out a response, irritation starting to seep into his voice. "S'fine, don't need a two-bit bot to clean me, can do it myself."

Expression hidden behind his star-shaped shades, he quietly mumbles in an after thought. "Though after today's fuck-ups, who knows if they even trust me to do that?"

You tilt your head, trying to make sense of his statement. If his performance was unsatisfactory because of his need for maintenance repair, why say that it is unnecessary now?

Inspecting Montgomery from head to toe, as he looks anywhere but at you - you see the sheen of a sugary drink (Fizzy Faz, if your sensors are correct) on the front of his casing.

Seeing no other external irregularities, this was likely the main culprit for his request. You just needed to clean the finish and check to see if his undercarriage was in acceptable condition.

Eyes still not on you, the gator picks at the nonexistent food in his teeth with his claw. His tail swishing back and forth across the floor, in clear agitation. No doubt, waiting for you to leave his room.

Your thoughts now focused on doing your job thoroughly, you do the exact opposite.

Taking a few steps further into the room, you set down the extra cleaning supplies you had grabbed before coming to the green room, onto the table nearby Monty.

Letting out a low warning growl at your actions, you purposefully ignore him as you make sure you have everything in place.

Sitting down across from him, you lean foward in an attempt to get better access to his chest, his growl growing increasingly louder, as you inch closer.

Reaching your hand towards the gator, you're abruptly stopped as, quicker than you visual sensors can detect - Monty lurches fowards on the couch, snarl on his lips.

Snatching your hand before it touches his chassis, you hear the groan of metal as he squeezes. "I said I don't need a maintenance check anymore. You deaf or somethin'?"

Meeting his heated glare with your own unblinking stare, you slowly lift up your free hand in an effort to not agitate the alligator animatronic further.

Glowing red eyes following the movement of your hand, you sign, My primary purpose is maintenance checks, I cannot go against my AI programming.

The gator scoffs at your reply. "So, you're deaf and mute - what, they didn't fix you with a voice box? Don't say I blame them. You S.T.A.F.F. bots can be real irritating sometimes, 'specially those map bots."

Releasing his grip on your hand, he lets it drop unceremoniously into your lap.

"Anyways, your coding ain't my problem. M'already in a pissy mood because a brat thought I'd be good target practice during one of our shows. I don't wanna be prodded at right now." He says, running a hand through his mohawk.

Ah! The incident you had seen before attending to the daycare attendant.

Your CPU bringing up the earlier day's recording that you had caught when you had paused to watch their show, to the forefront of your mind, your hands work in rapid succession to reply.

Yes, I saw the incident occur. That is why I am here. You explain.

A few terse seconds tick by as the glamrock robot processes your statement.

"What." He grounds out, closed jaw creaking from the applied pressure.

"...You saw it happen and didn't help me?!" He yells, voice box garbling from the strain, as his volume increases to a roar.

Grabbing you by your shoulder, he roughly pushes you off the couch onto the floor. Landing on your side, you go to push yourself up when a large, metal - distinctly heavy - foot, lands on your splayed out hand with a sickening crunch.

"--!" Your voice box still non-operational you can only grimace in pain, as you feel the wires and gears in your hand be completely crushed.

[ERROR]

[EXTERNAL AND INTERNAL DAMAGE DETECTED]

"What, gator got your tongue?" He sneers, looming over you.

Heat starts to build under your wires, cooling systems taking effect, as you attempt to pull your hand out from underneath the gator's foot.

Not giving you any leeway as you struggle to release your hand, Montgomery crouches to be eye-level with you. Tilting his shades so he can see you better, he lets out a humorless laugh.

"Only reason I don't turn you into scrap right here, s'coz I'm already on thin ice with upper management thanks to today. Count yourself lucky you're not that one, over there." He says, pointing to the dismantled S.T.A.F.F. robot in the corner of the room.

Lifting himself up, he pushes his glasses further up his snout before nonchalantly removing his foot from above your hand.

Hastily pulling all the scattered remains of what used to be your hand and cradling it near your chest with your remaining hand, you watch as the alligator throws himself back onto his couch.

"Now get outta here, before I really get mad." He all but growls.

Not certain you can take anymore damage to your body today and still perform the rest of your tasks, you heed the gator's words.

Taking all your gathered supplies and tools, you stumble out of the green room and barely make it into a storage closet, before fumbling and dropping everything onto the closet floor.

Staring at the supplies on the floor, you can faintly hear the whirring of internal cooling systems working overdrive to try to suppress the heat flowing through your body, gathering in your chest.

You...you didn't understand what this building heat was...You had experienced it before, but never this severe...

Montgomery briefly flashed through your mind.

You frowned, the pain from your hand coming back full-force.

That...that alligator was full of malfunctions! His file did him no justice, volatile didn't begin to cover all his flaws!

But it wasn't just him, oh no.

Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex was riddled with faulty animatronics, each design or AI flaw, worse than the last! But you were going to fix each any every last one of them, oh yes.

And you were going to make Montgomery Gator, your main priority.