Millie slammed into the concrete floor of her grandfather's workshop with a scream, scrambling desperately for purchase. She felt a blade cutting air mere inches from her back, clanging hard against something metal in the workshop.
"Hey, cupcake! How'd you get out of my belly? You're not supposed to do that!"
Millie struggled to her feet, shaking violently as Funtime Freddy's eyes rolled back to the front of his face, settling into place and glinting mischievously as they looked right at her. He braced himself with one hand against the wall, aged metal groaning with wear as he began to bring himself to his feet.
"Please, stop!" Millie whispered, wiping at her black-rimmed eyes. "I don't want to die. It's not fair! I just crawled into you to get away! I shouldn't have to die for things everyone do-"
The massive animatronic stepped forward, creaking and squeaking as his worn body lurched like a zombie.
Millie fumbled with the door, shaking so horribly that it was difficult to undo the lock.
"Silly Millie-wherever you go, you know I'll find you! I'm just here to make all your dreams come tru-ACK!"
With a blood-curdling loud crash, Funtime Freddy fell to the floor. His entire body heaved up and down-she was unsure iif he was coughing or laughing-and he tried to bring himself up before crashing back down. A long cord of obviously defunct Christmas lights tangled around his ankle, and the robotic bear and his dingy, old metal shell struggled to get himself loose, seeming truly irritated for the first time during their encounter.
Millie wasted not a second, flinging the door open and then slamming it closed before the animatronic could get a word in. Tears flooded down her face, made black by her mascara, and blindly she reached for the spare key and desperately tried to lock it back.
She sobbed incoherently once she heard the soft click, collapsing down onto the snow-covered walkway and grabbing fistfuls of her hair. Her chest tightened until it was unbearable, her breath nothing but ragged gasps as she choked down air the best she could. Dread blanketed her like the darkness of the night, her mind a swirl of dark dripping reds and peals of Freddy's bright laughter.
"Millie! Millie! Millie, honey, what's wrong?!"
She felt warm hands grab her shoulders and screamed, her back slamming against the workshop door. She finally opened her eyes and looked up into the concerned face of her grandfather, wisps of gray hair fluttering around his face in the breeze. She coughed hoarsely and felt her stomach churn, and before she knew it she was somehow on her feet and locked in his warm embrace.
"Millie, it's okay. I've been so worried about you girlie, where have you been?" He rubbed one broad palm across her shaking back, his own eyes growing misty. "Millie?"
"I...I'm so sorry, Grandpa!" She forced out, "I've been so horrible to you. To everyone. I'm also mean, and bratty and you're so n-nice and..." She sobbed, gripping his cardigan and burying herself in his chest. "Safe. I just... I don't feel good!" She sounded like a child-which was appropriate, considering that for the first time in a long time, she genuinely felt her age.
"Millie..." Her grandfather's voice was gentle, delicate as glass. "I don't blame you, sweetheart. You're at a rough age, I wouldn't go back to that for anything. Your parents, your...no friends. It's okay." He stroked her hair. "It's okay, Millie."
The girl looked up at him, her face smeared with black. "I... I hid in your workshop. The big bear robot, it locked me in its belly and was talking and trying to get me to decide how it'd kill me and it tried to chop off my head-"
Grandpa looked confused. "I heard a big crash, Millie... It's why I came outside. But I promise you nothing is wrong with that robot, other than being old. It's perfectly fine. I don't think I've been taking how bad you've been feeling seriously enough, girlie..."
"No, Grandpa, I promise!" She whispered, stepping away and looking desperately to the workshop door. "We have to call the police, or something. He fell, but he's going to get back up and he's going to come after me!"
"Millie." Grandpa's voice was kind, but firm. He stepped past her, fiddling with his keyring for a moment before inserting one into the lock. "It's okay."
"GRANDPA!" She stepped back, heart pounding desperately in her chest. "Don't-"
The door swung open, the light still on. Grandpa clicked his tongue, sighing when he saw Funtime Freddy sprawled out on the floor. The animatronic was sprawled motionless on the floor. Unmoving. His jaw hung open and his eyes were blank, flickering light glinting off the dull colors of his metal hide.
"Millie, see?" Grandpa approached the bear and Millie felt her blood go colder than the wind around her, freezing her in place. He lifted one arm with a grunt and then let it flop back to the floor. Hand on one knee, he smiled at her. "See, sweetpea? It's just an old robot. These were popular back when I was your age, and someone just tossed him out in a junkyard. I thought I could fix him up, but it's not the same without his missing parts... He's just a bunch of old metal. Can't hurt ya."
Millie stayed rooted to the spot, her lip trembling. Would she ever run out of tears?
"Say, Millie? Why don't we work together to get this guy sitting back up nice and neat again, and then go inside? I have leftovers, and the others left. There's presents waiting... Annabel Lee hasn't stopped meowing for you! And we can talk."
Millie didn't speak, just shook her head vigorously.
Her grandfather sighed. "That's alright, I'll get him set back up later. Let's just get you inside, alright?"
She nodded.
Her grandfather shut off the light, and as he closed the door, Millie swore she saw a pair of twin blue sparks in the darkness.
Her heart skipped a beat.
XXX
Even though she was now in the warm house, heavy blankets wrapped all around her, Millie could still feel the oppressive dome of metal surrounding her, a rusty blade slicing through air, blue eyes that saw right through her. She trembled, picking at her tofurky ham and trying to overcome her sour stomach to show her grandfather how grateful she was.
"Millie, I'm an old man. I don't quite understand what you're going through, and I know it's not good... And while I know I'm not the most equipped to help you, other people are."
She looked up at him, eyes red rimmed and her bare face stripped of makeup. She looked smaller without it, more vulnerable. "What are you saying?"
"I think you should try therapy. It helped me a lot when I lost your grandmother. You've been going through a lot, more than what most kids go through. You could use the help." He brought a hand over the bald top of his head slowly, thoughtfully, clearly anxious.
"I... I don't need it." She was surprised, Grandpa's concern almost seeming to sour her even further. "I'm just a brat. I'm just rude, quick to anger, judgmental. Ungrateful." Her throat hitched as she repeated Funtime's Freddy list of her crimes. Crimes she deserved to die for. Should've died for.
Change is hard. Giving up is easy.
Her grandfather looked shocked. "No, Millie. You're a child. A child with no friends, parents halfway across the world, and struggling with how you feel. I...I don't mean to be invasive, but I've seen some of your writing. I don't mind all the goth stuff, I think it's great you express yourself the way you do, but I think there's something deeper...manifesting itself. It's not healthy anymore. I'm worried about you." He swallowed thickly and placed one broad, wrinkled hand above her own. "I love you, Millie. Your parents love you. Even if they're different from other parents. We don't want you to, to disappear. You've never really seemed happy, but... We want you here, and we want you to be happy. For you."
Millie felt something inside her chest break. She always said happy people were just lying to themselves-but was that really true? Even after Grandpa had lost so much, he still did what he loved and treated everyone around him with kindness. Maybe that's what life was supposed to be-maybe everything really was genuinely miserable, but just finding little things to smile about and being with people you liked... Maybe that made the misery worth it.
She thought of Dylan, and how happy she had felt with him. No dating, even if she wanted to... Just friends.
Maybe even Brooke Harrison wasn't that bad.
"I don't want to hurt anymore." Millie whimpered.
He rubbed the back of her palm with his thumb. "I know. I'm going to talk to your parents in the morning, and we'll figure out how to get you some help. You can be there too, if you want."
"I...would like that." The words came out of her like a thick tar, but her chest felt a little less tight. Then, unbidden, a laugh broke out of her, dry as a desert. "You know what they call me at school, Grandpa? Dracula's Daughter."
Grandpa snorted. "That's the best they can come up with? They oughta know that's a compliment to you, Millie. Least, it should be." He smiled and winked, and Millie couldn't help but smile back. It felt strange on her lips. "But... I want you to talk to the doctors about the animatronic thing too, okay? I locked it up good, nice and tight, but... I think it may have been you daydreaming about how bad you're feeling. Or something else. That's not healthy for you, sweetheart."
Millie opened her mouth to argue, then stopped. She supposed it did sound pretty crazy. And Funtime Freddy could barely walk... so maybe she was safe for now. But would a lock stop him? Doors? She shivered, the chill crawling up her spine like a trail of ants. She ignored the whispers in her head, the ones that told her she was indeed crazy, and had imagined all of it in a suicidal haze. Right now, it was best to keep the promises she had made to herself-being kinder, more thoughtful. Apologizing and making amends. And maybe...that included taking care of herself too.
Maybe she deserved that grace.
"Grandpa... Can Annabel Lee and I stay in your room with you tonight? I...really don't want to be alone."
"Of course, Millie. Let's get you some rest, and then we can see what we're going to do tomorrow." He stood up from his chair, joints creaking as he began packing the leftovers into tupperware for the fridge. "There's always tomorrow."
Millie smiled, but it hurt this time. Was there always tomorrow? When would the tomorrows finally run out?
She didn't want to know. But she had to believe.
Tomorrow was another day.
A/N: This is my first fanfiction in many many many years, and I'm super excited to share it with you guys! I thank you so so much for reading, and assure that there will be more to come! Millie's story in Count the Ways really resonated with me, an adult who endured childhood mental illness, depression, trauma and abandonment-even a murder attempt. And I was goth-y. Still am, and I still struggle with those things even in adulthood. I wanted to explore a continuation of Count the Ways where Millie's quick thinking helps her survive, but she has to face up to her mistakes and struggle with the aftermath of what's happened, then, and earlier on in her life. How will she heal and cope? What will happen to Funtime Freddy? Where is Bon-Bon? Can animatronic superhero cryptids exist? I'm excited to share my exploration of these ideas with you, and hope that you will enjoy the ride. Thanks again!