A/N: biggest and epicest and thankest thank you to hit wattpad user jessica246 who remembered a whole bunch of stuff from the og books and rlly went the whole 9 yards w screenshots n stuff to jog my memory, rlly makes writing easier for me thank you !!
Words: 3214
┌─── ∘°❉ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ❉°∘ ───┐
It's dark in the pizzeria. Not entirely pitch black, but some of the lights burned out leaving the already dim rooms in a sort of twilight, enough that you have to squint to make out any details. Most of the lighting came from the full moon outside. You never really noticed how few windows there are in this building, how isolating it is.
The animatronics are quiet. You think they're surprised that you came back after yesterday. Part of you is upset that they thought you'd go back on your word. It makes you wonder what the previous night guards were like. Even though the animatronics are quiet, they're protective of you. One of them is always right next to you, guarding, waiting.
Goldie visits three times tonight.
The first time, you were sitting at one of the party tables playing cards with the animatronics. You rested your chin in your palm and looked to the side, to the halls leading to the security room, only to find Goldie standing in the dark looking back at you. His blue eyes seemed to glow and just barely illuminated the rest of his figure. Slowly, he raised his hand and waved at you. You didn't know what to do, none of the other animatronics had spotted him and they were finally starting to relax. Goldie wasn't doing anything wrong, per say, he was just being ominous. You maintained eye contact and used the hand you were resting on to wave back at him. He put his hand down and made an expression you didn't catch before vanishing. You didn't tell the other animatronics.
The second time you don't even see him. You were sitting on the stage talking with your friends, who had situated themselves around you in a very bodyguard-esque fashion. You were pretty distracted because Foxy was taking his habit of fidgeting with his hands out on yours. He was basically massaging your hands and by the looks the other guys were shooting him they weren't too happy about it.
Before you could even register anything had changed, Foxy scooped you up into his lap in a considerably awkward position. You let out a squeak in surprise and tried to push away, but he didn't let you. Quite the opposite, he held you in a clenching hug, squishing your face into his chest. You felt the familiar change in air pressure somewhere in the room and froze. Evidently, the animatronics can sense Goldie before you can. You heard a scuffle, a smack, and a shout. The air felt lighter after that, Goldie must have left. Foxy lifted you up off his lap, placed you back down next to him, and dusted you off a bit. Everyone except Bonnie was still sitting down, and Goldie was gone.
Bonnie clapped his fist in his hand and nodded at you, a determined smile on his face.
"I hit him dead center." Bonnie pointed in between his eyes a little too enthusiastically, "No way he's coming back."
You looked at Freddy, who took your hand in his and gave a reassuring nod, "He won't come back, Angel."
But three is a pattern.
The boys had calmed down since they fended Goldie off. It's close to the end of your shift, you and Chica are making a pizza in the kitchen. You're rooting around in one of the large cabinets under the counter when you're suddenly pushed into it. Confused, you turn your head to see Chica, staring at you wide eyed with a finger over her lips, still ushering you into the cabinet. She looks at you pleadingly and you know what she's thinking, please, please be quiet. She shuts the cabinet door.
It's dark. It's dark in the pizzeria to begin with but in here it's pitch black. It's silent, save for the low buzzing that permeates throughout the whole building. You're just about to say something to Chica when you hear a thud against the cabinets.
"What are you doing here?" Chica sounds angrier than you've ever heard her.
"Where is she." It doesn't sound like a question.
"Why would I ever tell you."
"WHERE IS SHE." It sounds like a threat.
For a moment it's quiet. You dare not breathe.
The moment is short, a crashing sound reverberates through the room, amplified by the cabinet. But one noise cuts through the crash, a scream. Chica. That's all it takes, you rush out of the cabinet, standing quickly and finding Goldie standing over Chica's crumpled body on the floor. Surrounding her are a variety of pots and pans, he must've thrown her into the counter.
"Chica!" You yell. You run up to her, about to help her up but she shakes her head frantically.
"(Y/n), no!"
You were so blinded by the sight of your friend in pain that you didn't notice that you couldn't see Goldie anymore. It's only when he grabs you by the back of your shirt that you even remember why the others were trying to keep you away from him. Right, you think as he whips you around to face him and firmly plants his hands on your shoulders, he can teleport.
Teleporting feels like flying. No, that's not quite right. It feels like falling. You can feel the world moving around you, or you moving through it. You're aware of the distance you're covering and how it's far faster than anything intended by nature. It's nauseating. The only thing you can really see and feel is Goldie and his hands on your shoulders. You find yourself clinging to his arms, thankful in that moment for his strong grip.
When it stops you're still disoriented and still clinging to Goldie's arms. He doesn't move at all and it takes you a second to realize exactly what you're doing and what situation you're in. You push off of him hard, but he doesn't let you go.
"Get off me!" You yell and try to pry his hands off of you.
"Be quiet." He says. Despite your struggling he maneuvers you so that you're pressed against a wall. He clamps his hand over your mouth. You take the opportunity to get your bearings. To your left is the exit, past Goldie is what looks like a bed, and to your right is a shelf boldly sporting a roll of duct tape and some rope. What does he plan to do with that?
You panic at the sight, and frantically try to escape his grasp. Goldie shushes you and brushes the hair out of your face. He doesn't look mad, not at all. His lips twitch in some semblance of a smile, though the look in his eyes is awfully sad. He lets go of you for a second, and that's all you need. You bolt for the door only to run into his chest. Right. He can teleport.
This time when he puts his hands on your shoulders it's to push you back into the chair. He wastes no time, the second your butt hits the chair he takes both your wrists in one hand and reaches for the rope with the other.
You always thought you were resilient. That when push comes to shove, when it really matters, you'd rise. Something in you would activate and you'd fight back. Not that you thought about getting kidnapped often, just that you thought you'd be stronger than this.
The second the rope touches your wrists you hold your head up and look Goldie in his eyes. You try to demand he let you go, say something, anything, but when you open your mouth all that comes out is a sob. You're pathetic, crying at him, not even exerting any resistance as he ties you up. Tears fall from your eyes as you try to stop crying. Trying doesn't work, you just sit there sobbing as Goldie ties your ankles together. As he wraps the remaining piece of rope around your torso, connecting you to the chair, you wonder what you could have possibly done to anger him.
"I'm sorry," You cry.
Goldie just stares at you with an entirely blank expression.
"I don't know what- what I did," You gasp, "but I'm really sorry. I promise I won't- won't tell anyone, I swear-"
"I'm not going to hurt you." He sounds sad when he says it. Upset that you thought he would.
You pause. If he doesn't want to hurt you then why are you here? Your sobbing turns to quiet sniffling. It's pitiful, really, how your kidnapper's words comfort you. After you get yourself together more you ask,
"Why am I here?"
Goldie's eyebrows furrow. He's mad, but not at you. He doesn't say anything and sits on the bed to your right.
You try to wrap your head around what exactly is happening here. He's not going to hurt you, he looked offended when you suggested he might, but he won't let you go. So clearly he has you here for a reason. He isn't acting violently, and while you're not going to let your guard down you should try to communicate with him.
What should you say? You can't just strike up a conversation like nothings wrong. Though, thinking back to your first interaction with Foxy, that's pretty much what you did. You made a quick judgment of his character and treated him kindly, dancing around topics that made him uncomfortable, and that turned out alright. More than alright, that turned out great. That's the truth, isn't it. The juvenile, absolute truth, that being kind is the solution to most problems.
You turn your head to face Goldie and clear your throat. He looks up at you confusedly.
You start crying again before you can get the words out. This time, he gets up and kneels in front of you. He's tall enough that him kneeling is level with you sitting. His hands ghost over your face. He wipes away your tears, barely using enough pressure. He holds the back of your head and presses it gently into the crook of his neck.
"Don't cry," He whispers "I'm sorry."
He holds you like this and lets you cry into him for a long while until you've exhausted yourself. When you've finally stopped shaking he presses his lips to your hair and pulls away. It's a while still before you regain your voice, finding the words you had tried to say before.
"Thank you." You say with a shaky voice.
"What..." He takes a while to speak, and he looks surprised. Clearly he hadn't expected that from you.
"For not hurting me." You say.
You don't know what kind of response you'd imagine him having, but it wasn't whatever's happening now. He twitches like he's not sure how he wants to move and he looks awfully conflicted. His eyes flick to that black color for a second, it's like he can't decide what facial expression to make. He spends a bit too long like this before standing up and crossing his arms, looking as stern as ever. He looks at you and nods, and you think perhaps no one has ever thanked him before.
"I'm going to get you some food." He says.
He teleports away before you can make a recommendation.
He unties you when he comes back, well, save for your legs. You can't help but be grateful for the way he caresses the rope marks out of your wrists. You find that his gaze returns to your wrists frequently, mourning the slight redness.
You settle on the floor, sitting with your back against the footboard of the bed to eat the fast food he brought for you that you're too tired to identify. Goldie sits next to you, maybe a little closer than he should. He's made no indication that he's hungry, though he certainly does stare at you as you eat. Wordlessly, you hold out a fry to him. It's a little close to his face and he goes cross eyed trying to look at it, in any other circumstance it'd be awfully cute. He chuckles and shakes his head no.
"I'm not hungry." His voice is softer than it was when he was yelling at Chica. It's quiet and draws you in. You can't help but feel like this is weird, not the kidnapping part but the fact that he doesn't seem to want anything from you. You can't even be sure he wants your company with how little he talks. This is all very domestic. An outside viewer might think you're just two friends sharing some food and comfortable silence if it wasn't for the rope binding your ankles.
Goldie sits with his knees to his chest, mimicking your pose. His arms are slumped over his legs, one is extended and the other propping his head up. He shakes his head a bit to flick a stray lock of hair out of his face. With the way the other animatronics talked about him you wouldn't imagine him to be capable of being so casual. Not a lot of people must see him like this. You almost feel lucky.
Now is probably a good time to try asking him some questions. You seriously doubt he'll hurt you for bringing up the realities of the situation.
"Where are we?" You ask.
"Storage room under the pizzeria." He says, "We all turned them into our bedrooms when we found them."
So the animatronics have rooms, that's good. You were starting to worry about where or if they slept. You try a harder question.
"Is Chica okay?"
Goldie rolls his eyes.
"She's fine." He says, after seeing your still worried face he adds, "I saw her when I left."
That's good, she had taken quite the hit. Your next question comes out before you can think to stop it.
"Why aren't you friends with the others?"
Goldie raises his eyebrows. Maybe you should have eased into that one.
"We don't get along." He says, a slight anger to his voice, "We haven't for a long time."
"Why?" You ask. He lets out a puff of air at your childish tone and offers you an equally dumbed down response.
"We disagree on some things."
He projects his voice a little more when he says that, he sounds like he's trying to imitate or maybe make fun of Freddy. This must mean he's getting angry, you don't press any further.
You have no idea what time it is, but it must be past the end of your shift because you're very tired. You can't stop yourself from nodding off. You nod off for a second too long and open your eyes only to realize that you're leaning your head on Goldie's shoulder. You straighten up when you notice and mumble an apology. He just laughs. It's such a normal interaction you almost forget your circumstances. You laugh along and for a moment everything is okay.
He looks at you, still smiling and you realize it's the first time you've seen him happy, and it looks great on him. He has a smile that artists would loathe to capture, they'd never get the way it curves down just right. You feel a twinge in your heart, wishing this wasn't so rare for him. He moves closer to you, caging you with his body. He strokes your cheek, tilting your head up as he leans in. His kiss is feather light. With soft skin he graces you, a simple press of the lips. He pulls away as quick as he came, leaving you with the sweet aftertaste of connection.
Your face is surely bright red with the amount you're blushing. That was... okay.
He picks you up like you're his bride, standing to his full height. He tosses you onto the bed. That snaps you back to reality, you're cool with being his metaphorical bride not a real one. You sit up and scooch as far back as you can. He looks at you with a frown. He looks more upset now than he was earlier.
"I'm not going to hurt you." Oh.
You relax, laying in the bed the best you can. He sits on the edge of the bed, not looking at you. You break the silence.
"Can you take the rope off my legs?" You ask.
"No."
"Why?"
He looks at you crestfallen and quiet.
"Because you'll run."
You don't say anything as he tucks you in and lays down, facing away from you. You don't have many thoughts as you fall asleep. Just that you hope your friends aren't worried about you.
─── ∘❉(・⊝・)❉∘ ───
You wake up to a muffled keening noise. It gets louder as your eyes adjust and you quickly realize that it's Goldie. He's turned to face you, still asleep, with his face pressed into the pillow.
"Don't," He gasps. He's still asleep and his voice is high, "please, don't-"
He's crying. He must be having a nightmare. You're not sure what to do, it sounds bad. You sit up and notice that you can move your legs freely. You must've kicked off the rope in your sleep. Sure enough, you see it on the floor. You move as quietly as you can, now's your chance to escape. You get one foot on the floor when you hear it.
"Please," He whines, "don't go."
This, this is what has him sobbing like a kid in his sleep. You'd thought that he was dreaming about something scary, getting attacked maybe, but he was just dreaming about someone leaving him? Maybe that's scarier. You hate to think of how he'll be, when he wakes up on a tear soaked pillow to realize that whoever he's dreaming about is long gone. You should be gone, too.
You'd be a bad person if you left him like this. It'd be so easy. To leave now and shun him like the others.
You don't want to be bad, you want nothing more than to be good, but it's so hard. You live a solitary life, the only evidence you exist is the mess in your room. If you died, would anyone remember you? Would anyone think you were good? The animatronics, maybe, but certainly not whoever would move in to your house. They'd curse you for how you left the bedroom door slightly broken. As far as friends go you really don't speak to anyone outside of work on a regular basis, and God bless Imani but she lives so far away and now your sleep schedules don't align and she has a life, you can't blame her for that, you just wish that someone would stick around, that all your friendships wouldn't be lost to proximity-
He's grasping at the spot where you were laying before now.
It's so hard to be good. It's so much easier to leave. But now you have a chance, a chance to stay. To not leave something broken.
You settle yourself back in the bed and place your hand over his. You let him wrap his arms around you and rest his head on your chest. When he finally stops crying as you run your hand through his hair, you close your eyes, and think,
'Good.'
└─── °∘❉U ･ × ･ U❉∘° ───┘
A/N: btw working on the cover art now lmao u dont have to look at spongebob nectar fly for much longer