Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The lights shone down on the opera hall, to the cheers of a faceless audience. Every seat was filled. The small silhouettes of people applauded upon balconies, throwing confetti towards the stage. At the center, a young lady proudly stood adorned with a purple top hat, a purple tail coat, and a big yellow bowtie to pull the look together. She took the mic off its stand and grinned proudly to the audience, her purple glittery lips curling into the red circles drawn on her face as she smiled ear to ear.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” She called out into the mic to the cheers of the audience. “Boys and girls from all across the world!” her voice practically broke out into song with enthusiasm. The lady paused for dramatic effect as she looked upon the audience. The sequins on purple tailcoats glittering in the spotlight as she gave a spin for the audience. “Let me introduce to you, the star of our show tonight!” The crowd stomped their feet as they applauded with anticipation. “Let’s hear it for…. Bonnie!”

The curtains behind her opened as she took a bow, speedily backpedaling off the stage as a yellow bunny twirled out towards where the microphone stand had once been. The bunny threw his arms out as music began to play. He began dancing to the rhythm of the rock song.

“I see it now, becomes so clear” the song played as Bonnie danced. “Me all starry-eyed” the giant speakers sang. “Now show us the sun will cross the sky-”

Suddenly the sound of a microphone cracked and screamed with feedback. An ice pop had SMACKED Bonnie across the head. The cheering crowd melted away, and laughter took its place. A small child in the front row grinned toothlessly. Bonnie looked around as the stage grew smaller, only room for a couple mascots to stand and dance in place. The lights. The glamour. It was all gone. Another Ice cream cone landed squarely upon his head, making a unicorn out of him. As if it was an arrow, Bonnie recoiled before he began dancing it off. The children began clapping and laughing as their distant parents rolled their eyes.

‘Oh.. What glamour.’

Chapter Text

Exiting the stage, Bill walked side to side in the resemblance of a waddle. The heavy suit grew stiffer by the moment as he stumbled his way to the back stage before slowly. He winced as he removed the heavy yellow bunny head he was adorned in. The mechanical eyes continued to shift left and right automatically, continuing despite the beheading. With a heavy sigh, Bill popped the clasps on the back of the suit and slowly freed himself from the amalgamation of faux fur and rusted metallic gears.

Sitting on a bench, sweat rolled down his heavily scarred back and torso. His hand held a towel, coated in a red syrup. Looking at the red nectar, he wondered for a moment, looking at the plates he had carried back from customers, raspberry jam on it. “Oh..” he paused for a moment before looking down at his dirty sweaty chest. There, he found the source of the raspberry jam. It had come from himself. Bringing the towel to his bare chest, he tended to the fresh cut on his ribs. “You’re going to be the death of me one day.” Bill muttered as he stared at the head. His eyes slowly became transfixed with the eyes of the Spring Bonnie head as it shifted left, then right. The sounds of children's laughter, once distant, seemed to grow closer.

“Closing time Bill!” A young lady cheerfully cried out. A lady with straight cut bangs and black hair peaked her head into the back room as she called out. Finding Bill, her eyes widened as she saw his broken scarred body. Shame filled his expression and he quickly covered himself up with the towel, trying to hide the fresh cut and as much scarring as he could. “You okay?” she asked with concern as she approached. She was wearing a black dress shirt, vest and long baggy shorts. The only accents were black and white. Along her dress shirt were giant cartoony white buttons. Under her shorts she wore black and white striped leggings and a matching striped under shirt with long sleeves.

“Oh, just another spring lock failure, Juliane . Nothing to worry about. Just a cut really.” Bill chuckled nervously as he put on an exhausted grin.

“Hen really needs to order those new parts.” Juliane sighed and shook her head.

“Never you worry my dear, nothing critical is at any danger of fault. Now then, why don’t you head home. I’ll take care of cleaning up.” He waved his colleague off.

“Okay. Well. Why don't you at least leave the plates there, I’ll be back in a few hours for the opening shift.” Julaine said. She clearly knew if she insisted he let her help, her attempt would be met with failure.

Bill smiled a nervous toothy grin as Juliane left and locked the front doors behind her, leaving him in the restaurant on his own. His hands slid along the tables of the dining room, grabbing plates despite Juliane’s insistence that he left that for her in the morning. Dumping the plates of its mismatched pizza slices into the garbage, he brought it into the kitchen. A mask of the yellow chicken mascot, Chica, hung over the wall in guarded dominion over the chamber. “Pardon me young lady, just the last haul of the night.” Bill smiled towards the Chica mask and did a courtesy bow before proceeding to the sink. The Chica mask was only the front half, and hung upon the wall. The eyes were hollowed as it stared, never blinking at its kitchen empire. “Chica always likes making sure the food is both safe and healthy!” Juliane chimed in when she first hung the mask. Bill grinned at her.

“Of course, and where better for her to wait for all the uneaten pizza?” Bill remarked to her as she laughed at his jest.

“Reduce! Re-use! Recycle!” Juliane chimed in, chanting the new catch phrase of commercials. Alas as the memory of the bright sunny day faded, Bill was back in the cold, poorly lit kitchen by himself.

Bill’s eyes glossed over a large knife for cutting cake, and his fingers slid along its handle to put it away. Yet he paused, looking at his reflection through the blade. The blood. The sweat. The tears. Oh.. He was crying. Bill wiped his cheeks off with his spare hand, and looked at his fingers to verify the tears were indeed true.

As he looked at his tear stained hand, he was mesmerized, reality fading away until he felt the cold metal of the blade sliding along his artery. “Oh… I am broken…” He muttered as the blade slid along his throat. A tingle went along his spine as he closed his eyes in bliss and bated breath.

‘Do it. Do it. Do it.’

His silver eyes opened and stared dully towards the Chica mask as he slid the blade across his throat.

Chapter Text

“What do you think the uniform colors should be?” Bill had asked his friends one busy day walking down the street. The rain poured like sheets as Bill held an umbrella with one hand, and shifted through a fashion magazine, showing various potential designs. A sequin red coat, a big red bowtie, white shirt and black pants and top hat was on display. “I’m thinking of something grand. I want the customers to feel like they’re entering a wonderland. That would be the best idea!” He proclaimed loudly as the pages of his fashion magazine became soaked from the rain and he stumbled through the puddles.

“Isn’t that a bit… much?” His friend asked. Unlike Bill who despite dressing in a button up and tie as well, he was a complete contrast and exuded the sense of respect.

“Ooo, but I like that one Hen!” Juliane giggled out as they began going down the steps of the subway, escaping the rain into a tunnel.

Henri sighed as he lowered his umbrella. He gave it a good few shakes before wrapping it up. Bill in contrast, hastily shoved his own umbrella under his arm and continued to flip through the pages of the magazine with his wet fingers. “Bill.” Henri interrupted his train of thoughts. “We’re not opening a circus.”

“Wh-What? Bu…but-!” Bill began stuttering as Juliane interrupted.

“That could be our gimmick! We all have different uniforms!” Juliane piped in as her fingers wrapped around Henri’s. Bill’s eyes were glued upon the scene for a moment before snapping back to the magazine. He flipped through the pages some more. “Well if that’s the case then… I’m thinking we should color code our attire. Color theory says no more than 3 colors!” He chimed in.

“Does black count?” Juliane asked.

“Of course black counts.” Henri groaned.

Bill chuckled and shook his head. “No, of course black doesn’t count. It’s a negative color. A blank space. In color theory, your brain doesn’t even interpret black. Actually-” he stopped as Henri cleared his throat.

“I think I’ll just stick to black and white. Leave the colors for the mascots. “ Henri said as he pulled his coat back to check his watch and look at the rail tracks, as if to hurry along the train.

“Well I suppose I should match that. But I’ll see what I can do to make it more fun. Maybe add stripes. Some giant cartoony buttons. Maybe even paint my face up like a clown. You know, blend in!” Juliane was beaming with excitement.

“Yes, and I’ll stick to yellow and purple then, match Bonnie. Maybe I’ll even get Spring Bonnie a purple vest to match his bowtie!” Bill mused.

“I think we’re about done with this dis-” Henri began, attempting to end the conversation before Juliane continued.

“Oh you can wear a mustard yellow dress shirt and purple vest! You’d be a match!” She giggled. Bill hastily flipped through the pages of his fashion magazine until finding a design as she spoke of, stopping on one with a dark mossy green vest instead of purple. “Yes, something like this! Short sleeves as you know how hot a pizza oven can get a place.” The sound of the train speeding down the train tracks began echoing the subway chamber, the sounds of clashing metal growing ever closer.

“Yeah!” Juliane shouted over the screams of the scraping metal. The smell of ozone in the air as the train pulled in. A soft ‘Ding’ could be heard as the doors opened. The train played another ‘Ding’ followed by a ‘dong’ as the doors shut behind the three, and the train began its journey ever onwards.

Bill stared out the window of the subway car, looking at each stop they passed with a smile. “A road will take you wherever you want. But, a train? You have no choice but to go where it took you.”

A shared journey, and they had no choice but to go only where the rails took them.

Chapter Text

Here Juliane was now, years had passed since they graduated college. Years have passed since they opened the diner, Fredbear's Family Diner. Yet here they all were in uniforms they designed together that day on the subway. Their uniforms both were short sleeve tight fitting dress shirts, with a vest to pull in the design. Whereas his was a mustard yellow shirt and purple vest, she wore both a sleek black shirt and vest, with white contrasting buttons. Bill smirked with amusement as she tried calming a frantic mother despite wearing white face paint, big red blushing cheeks painted on, some purple diamond makeup and a big red nose.

“Ma’am, I assure you! We do NOT recycle Pizza!” Juliane gestured her hands in a calming manner in an attempt to soothe the angry patron. It didn’t work. The woman began aggressively gesturing to the open pizza box in her hand, showing the misshaped slices. “They’re just cut into fun shapes!” she explained to the customer. “It’s just how we cut it that can give the illu-” She stopped as the woman threw the pizza box at her. As the box fell to the floor, the woman grabbed her kid by the wrist and stormed out.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Bill laughed as he came to Juliane’s side. He handed her a towel and began helping pick pizza and marinara sauce out of her hair. Getting the easiest parts of the pizza off, he placed it into the discarded pizza box and led her past the ball pit room towards the kitchen. All the while the sounds of children screaming and the symphony of cheap plastic balls splashing on the tiled floor played. A brunette peaked her head over the edge of the ball pit as they passed by, watching with her blue eyes.

“We really need to ban anyone named Karen.” Juliane muttered as she picked the cheese off of her hair.

“Oh I’m sure we should.” Bill chimed in as they entered the back hallway towards the kitchen.

As they passed an open office, Henri looked up from his files. “Accident?” Henri asked, setting the papers on his desk. “Should I mark that under losses?” Juliane rolled her eyes and proceeded towards the sinks where she began washing herself off.

Stepping out the back doors, Bill took a cigarette case out and began to roll his own tobacco. He licked the paper and wrapped it firmly before placing it between his lips. His eyes closed in anticipation of bliss. His hands patted his purple vest’s pockets, searching for his lighter. ‘Click’ He heard. Opening his eyes, he saw a flame coming from a lighter in Juliane’s hand. Inhaling, Bill closed his eyes blissfully before breathing the smoke out.

“Do I get one too?” Juliane asked as she rested against the wall of the loading dock. She had a towel around her neck as her hair was let loose after the emergency dish soap wash. She had already set her vest, dress shirt, and sleeves on a hangar to dry. Bi’lls eyes widened as he saw her in presumably just a bra, the towel draped over her chest covering herself.

“But of course, my dear.” Bill returned his focus to his cigarette and took a long drag of it. His hands went back to his portable cigarette kit, and began rolling another cigarette. Juliane took the paper with tobacco on it from his hand and licked along the rim. She wrapped it herself, so perfectly. So neatly. Whereas his cigarette was clumpy, hers looked like the image of a factory seal. She lit the cigarette with her Fazbear branded lighter and inhaled the nicotine, the image of Fredbear smoking a cigar extending a thumbs up as she exhaled the tobacco.

“Recycled Pizza. Huh.” Bill muttered with bemusement. He took his cigarette out of his mouth and exhaled another smoke plume. While Bill attempted to give an image of a clean hit, the image was ruined as he began coughing. Juliane smirked and tapped on his back as she took a drag herself, helping Bill cough out a black mass and spit it over the stair rail into where the trucks sat waiting to be unloaded.

Juliane laughed, “Talk about budget cuts!” she grinned, not paying attention to Bill’s display. “Henri would be so proud of us if he found out!”

“Oh yes,” Bill laughed as he gestured this hand holding his cigarette towards her. “What was it? ‘As long as the fines are less than the profits, it’s just the cost of doing business,’ he always says.” Bill cackled as he brought the end of his cigarette to his lips and inhaled the sweet nectar from his crumpled white stick. “Stupid hags and their brats.” he muttered quietly as his vision wandered towards the dumpster. There besides the dumpster sat a large yellow bear suit with a black top hat. Walking down the steps to the suit, he imagined the lady, his hand slowly thrusting forward before twisting and pulling back sharply.

“Think we’ll ever get Fredbear wearable again?” Juliane asked as she observed Bill approach the suit. She looked into its vacant expression.

Nodding, Bill looked at Juliane briefly. “Does Henri really care?” He pondered, a hand thumbing his chin thoughtfully. “Old boy.. What It’d give to have the two of us suited up together, and on stage once more.” He murmured as his eyes looked thoughtfully.

“The jaw keeps clamping shut, doesn’t it?” Juliane peered at Fredbear, its jaw hanging slack like that of a boxer that took a blow they weren’t getting back up from.

Bill gestured a hand out to the suit with the cigarette, offering it a drag. “Oh, of course, what was I thinking?” He asked before pulling his hand away and taking a hit of the cigarette himself. “No, the star doesn’t smoke cigarettes. What would the kiddies think?” He paused before chuckling out, “No, you’re a bear of class! Cuban cigars are all you’d take!” chuckled out Bill, as he tip-toed in an exaggerated manner towards Fredbear. He hunched over, his elbows tucked into his torso as he attempted to imitate its broken body. “Don’t be so modest Fredbear, you and me? Friends to the end, aren’t we?” Bill asked as he gazed into the empty black pits that were his eyes. “No need to be bashful now. You were stupendous. And I….” he paused as he looked towards the sun, eyes squinting. ‘I keep them happy while they’re waiting for you to blow them away.’

“Did Hen order the new parts yet?” Juliane asked as she observed Bill in his dramatics.

“You know good old Hen.” Bill muttered, rolling his eyes. His eyes settled upon Fredbear’s void-like eyes. “Next month I’m sure.”

Juliane nodded as she finished her cigarette. Her fingers massaged along the crook of her neck as she frowned for a moment. “I’m going to see if I can find a loaner shirt. I’d put my clothes in an oven for a quick dry, but..” She crushed her cigarette against the wall. “I rather not smell like pizza.”

Bill nodded slowly as she made her back inside and he was left alone. His eyes closed as he listened to the music in his head. ‘Reach out… You reach out.” He mumbled singingly, a cigarette between his lips as he raised his hands to the air. Standing tall upon his toes, Bill towered over Fredbear. Tiptoeing, he gave a spin and bow. A stage was around him now, yet he was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t Bill on the stage, it was Spring Bonnie. Twirling down the stage to kids rock, dancing before a filled auditorium. A spotlight was upon him as the audience applauded his dancing, all while Fredbear was behind him, singing to the song with a microphone in hand.

‘Will you settle?” Fredbear sang as Bonnie danced.

Chapter Text

“Another day, another Pizza.” Bill muttered to himself. Birds chirped in the distance, and it was a beautiful summer day. Reaching into the car, Bill grabbed 3 pizza boxes and placed a paper bag with a couple 2 liters on top. A perfect balancing act, a challenge he craved. Raising the pizza in the air with the 2 liters on top, Bill gave a flourishing spin as he kicked the door of his brown and ivory top ‘73 Buick closed.

“PIZZA’S HERE!” A young girl yelled at the top of her lungs through an open window. There she was, his pride and joy, Elizabeth. Her hair was in a top knot, her bright green eyes sparkling. The new pink princess dress that was twice her width practically popped out of the window. Raising the Pizza steady towards, Bill gave his daughter a bow before continuing to the front door. Reaching into his pocket, he fumbled gracelessly with the door lock. After a few new scratches, he finally slid it into the keyhole and felt the deadbolt release. Before Bill had the chance to push the door open, it flew open so quickly that it SLAMED into the wall. Bill didn’t have time to react as an elementary school boy wearing a fox mask SLAMMED into him, not slowing down for a moment before he went sprinting off.

“DAMMIT MICHAEL!” William snarled out as his son went around the turn of the house laughing. Bill shifted his movement as the 2 liters fell and began to roll side to side on top of the pizza boxes. Unfortunately, the bag tore and a 2 liter fell to the floor with a carbonated explosion. Turning his balancing act into a performance as he carried the food in the house and into the kitchen, the last remaining 2 liter rolling side to side as he maintained his act.

Elizabeth watched the exploded soda bottle rolling down the steps. THUNK. THUNK. THUNK. Before rolling into the grass where the bottle slowly began to empty itself. Closing the window behind her, Elizabeth went running towards the kitchen where she ran smack into the back of her fathers leg, hard enough to cause his balance to shift suddenly in surprise. “Oh! Hello there my dear!” He called out as he looked at the red headed predator that latched onto his leg as if it was her prey she wouldn’t relinquish. “Excuse me honey,” he continued into the kitchen with Elizabeth lifting from the floor with each step.

Reaching the kitchen table, it was covered in an assortment of objects. An 18 pack of paper towels. 2 large bags of napkins. A plunger for when the sink backed up 2 months ago. Elizabeth’s coloring book that she had left on a page depicting a wolf with its mouth stretched open all around a little girl, ready to swallow her whole. Finding the corner with old mail, Bill scooped it up with one arm, slid it to the marble floor where the older mail lived, and placed the Pizza boxes down. ‘Final Notice’, ‘Second Final Notice’, ‘Court Summons’, ‘Penalty for missing court summons’ and countless bills waiting to be opened.

“YOU REMEMBERED THE POP?!” A woman called out from the living room.

The sound of a TV playing could be heard. In the living room was a recliner, a love seat that was filled with various Fazbear mascots, and a 3 seater couch. On the recliner, Bill saw his loving wife Isabella. Isabella was a vision of beauty. Ginger hair, blue-green eyes that pierced into those she looked upon, and a figure that screamed ‘runway model’ once upon a time.

“But of course, my sweet!” Bill sang out happily as he prepared several glasses with ice cubes and poured the dark brown carbonated beverage. The bubbles hissed in the air as Bill prepared a slice of pizza 3 plates. Taking hold of a glass and plated pizza slice, Bill leaned down. “You need to let go to take your dinner, my dear.” Bill hummed towards his daughter who debated the merit. On one hand, his leg was her prey. On the other hand, pizza was easier to chew. She took the plate and soda before skipping off. Each skip, Bill chuckled as he watched the soda staining the carpet on the way to her bedroom.

Leaving one plate and glass in the kitchen, Bill brought a tray of food to his wife and set it upon the arms of her chair. “And for you, my sweet Isabella, the feast of champions!” Bill grinned.

“Did you fix the loose brickwork on the front steps?” Isabella asked as she took a fork and knife, and began cutting the pizza slices into smaller bite sized portions.

“Ah, yes. I mean no. Not yet.” Bill chuckled as if he was caught stealing a cookie out of the cookie jar again. Returning to the kitchen to retrieve his plate, he found a pizza box open with someone rummaging through it. “DAMMIT MICHAEL!” William yelled. Suddenly the pizza box went flying, knocking over his plate. Despite diving towards the pizza box, Bill wasn’t fast enough to stop the pizza from flying out, face into the pile of mail. Bill snatched towards Michael who went running, a pizza slice in his mouth and another in hand, the cheese dripping off of it and leaving a marinara and cheese trail on the carpet all down along the hallway.

With a sigh, Bill left the pizza box on the floor and opened one of the surviving boxes before replating his meal. With that, Bill hummed as he made his way down to the garage where he had his workshop set. On the way, he felt a tugging on his pants leg.

“Daddy! Daddy!” He heard his ginger child cry out for his attention. Looking down, he saw her smiling up at him.

“Yes my dearest Elizabeth?”

“Mommy says it’s a boy.” Elizabeth frowned and pouted, as if she just heard her favorite show was canceled. “I don’t want another brother.”

Bill laughed as he entered the workshop and set his meal on a counter. “And why exactly is that Elizabeth?” he inquired as he glanced his silver eyes her way.

“Because it’s stinky enough with just Michael!” his young daughter complained as she contorted her face in a painful expression. It was the same face you expected to see when someone smelt something foul.

Laughing, her father scooped his daughter up into the air and gave her a spin, “Oh of course, Michael’s stinky enough for the whole house, isn’t he?” Bill laughed loudly. The moment was interjected into as Isabella could be heard yelling through the open doorway.

“STOP THAT! Don’t tell her Michael’s smelly!” Isabella yelled from the living room.

Bill raised a finger to his lips, urging his daughter to be quiet. “But of course my dear!” he yelled back through the doorway. Setting his daughter down as she stifled a laughter, he whispered into her ear to “close the door.” He continued louder for his wife's benefit as Elizabeth made her way towards the door, “Daddy’s only joking Elizabeth! Don’t call Michael stinky again!”

Closing the door, Elizabeth made sure the padding on the bottom to keep the cold air from blowing into the house was firmly in place before she hopped back over to her father.