Support pt. 2
word count: 13,184
Fandom: FNAF Security Breach Pairing: N/A x Female!Reader Pronouns: She/Her Relationship: N/A Occupation: Mechanic Ability: N/A
Keys:
[F/N]: Female Name [L/N]: Last Name [N/N]: Nickname [H/C]: Hair Color
Warnings:
due to the fact that I started playing security breach/ruin while also watching theory videos about fnaf my obsession with this game has resurfaced and I thought of a part two regarding this story.
this has become more than what it was intended for.
there will be a part three because this was supposed to include the gameplay but it spiraled into something else.
that is all.
"Support" pt. 1
"Congratulations! You're being promoted!" [F/N], who was currently hunched over her workbench working on the latest upgrades for the main four, looked up at her boss with exhausted eyes. She blinked once, then twice, then a third before letting a sarcastic yay before flipping her helmet back down and continued working "Didn't you hear what I just said? You're being promoted!" she let out a sigh as she put down her tools and turned back to her boss, pushing the helmet back up with her thumb and wiping the sweat with the back of her forearm.
"I heard, I'm just not excited what I'm being promoted to." as well as the more you're going to dump on me, she didn't say that out loud but her face said it all. She cocked a brow when a mask was presented to her, she recognized it as one of the masks that technicians would wea-- "No, no way." he nods.
"Yes way." he places the mask into her hands and gave a cheery smile "You're being promoted to a technical engineer!" she looked down at the mask then back up at him.
"... but I'm a mechanical engineer, not a technical one." he waved his hand to dismiss her words.
"Pish posh, how hard can it be?" he looked away when her gaze turned scrutinizing, as if four years of studying to obtain her Degree of Mechanical Engineering was easy "If that doesn't color your fancy, not only do you get new tools, you get a pay increase." he smirked when he saw the way she cocked a brow, it was always the money.
"Well, I guess it's fine." she murmured as she flipped the mask over and saw the circuitry on the inside of the mask "Do I really have to wear this though? I'm gonna look ridiculous." he chuckled softly.
"The mask looks like that so when you have to work around the guests, you look family friendly to the kids." she flipped the mask back around to look at the unsettling face, she looked up at him with a really look on her face "Just put the damn mask on." she stared at him for a second longer shrugging and taking her helmet off and finally putting the mask on, nothing happened until it turned on and everything looked... different.
"Whoa, this is crazy." she awed as she looked around.
"Pretty cool, right?"
"Heh, I guess." she was then startled when dialogue appeared in front of her.
[Welcome to V.A.N.N.I., the Virtual Augmented Neural Network Integration Unit. Do not be surprised by your surroundings. You are still in the real world, but Fazbear Entertainment has made it better. With this security mask, you can locate and repair all the pesky security nodes that are locking down the mesh network here in the Mega Pizzaplex! Call me Helpi. You can always count on me because it's my job to help you succeed in your new job!]
"Don't tell me this thing is going to be around 24/-- ow!" she rips the mask off and rubs her head after feeling a stinging pain in her skull.
[Lucky for you, the transponder implant allows me to communicate wirelessly even when your mask is removed. Just another Faz-mazing benefit of being a class b technician. Of course, you will have to put your mask back on to get any real work done.]
"Argh, great. Now I've got a voice in my head, thanks." he grins.
"You're welcome." she rolled her eyes and placed the mask on her bench, he then handed her an odd looking tool "Now this is a Faz-Wrench, it's what the technicians use to charge conduits to grant them access into certain rooms, while in the AR world, it is used to breach security nodes and also reboot animatronics."
"Reboot them, huh? Have they ever needed to be rebooted?"
"Not recently, no. They've only needed to be rebooted when there's been a breach in their programming, but even then that's never happened. But, the best part about the mask is that the animatronics are unable to see you."
"What?" he nods.
"Uh huh. While wearing the mask, you can walk by the animatronics completely undetected. Additionally, the mask can allow you to pass through certain solid objects in the real world or cross AR only bridges, which allows you to access locations that were otherwise inaccessible in the real world." her eyes widened at the information as she looked between him and the mask.
"How the hell is that possible?" he shrugged.
"Fazbear technology." she closed her eyes "Anyways, your additional duties are as I stated. I expect you to be able to adapt to your new tasks with ease."
"How... fazerrific." he pats her shoulder.
"There's the enthusiasm!" he then finally backs away "Well, have a great rest of your day!" she slumped in her chair as she watched him leave then looked back at the creepy mask, why did it have to be so creepy looking? She tossed the Faz-Wrench on her bench while grabbing a cloth and chucking it over the mask, she didn't want it looking at her.
"At least I'm getting paid more..." she sat there for a moment before putting her helmet back on and going back to work, the Glam Gang needed these upgrades for their upcoming show.
[a few weeks later]
"Mum! A lady just walked through a wall!"
"That's nice, sweety. Now, go play with your friends so mummy can talk to her friend."
"But mum, I really saw it!"
"Uh huh, you have such a wild imagination." the child pouts and opens his mouth to insist that what he saw wasn't his imagination until he saw the same woman poke her head out of the wall, he gasped when he saw her bring her finger to the lips of the creepy rabbit mask she was wearing before disappearing back through the wall "Mum!" [F/N] snickered softly when she heard the boy cry out about what he saw before shaking her head and going back to fixing a circuit board, having this mask was so fun. Not only did she get to play pranks and mess around with the animatronics, but it was fun to mess with the children. She doesn't do it very often but she was prone to walking through walls in front of the children just to freak them out a bit, it was hilarious to hear children chatter about the ghost rabbit lady.
"Never gets old." she snickered as she pushed the mask to the side of her head and started working on a arcade machine that started playing up, complaints about how the ticket dispenser was jammed. When she finally got it fixed she put the control panel back in place and smiled when she saw the tickets run out smoothly, she grabbed the handful and gave them to a kid that just so happened to be walking by. She laughed when they took it with great enthusiasm and ran off to tell his friends, she puts the V.A.N.N.I. back on and turned to leave but something caught her eye, she noticed a very prominent purple cable leading to the back of the Fazcade, specifically to where the security office was. She picked up her clipboard and saw there wasn't much on her list so she followed the cable to see where it would lead, surprisingly, it didn't lead into the security office but to the far back where the abandoned arcade games were. When she was finally at the end of the cable she lifted her head and raised an eyebrow at what she found "Princess Quest? I've never heard of this game before." she murmured as she looked at the machine closely, seeing how it pulsated while being surrounded by black glitches. She took the mask off and looked at the machine once more, she tried turning it on but no matter what she did it wouldn't switch on. She then noticed that it said "Princess Quest 2", so there was another one? But where could it be?
"[F/N]? Come in, [F/N]." she glanced down at the walkie talkie strapped to her thigh, she unbuckled the holster and took the walkie talkie out of it just as Vanessa spoke again "[F/N], do you copy?"
"I hear you loud and clear, Ness." she heard the woman chuckle at the nickname.
"I hate to bother you, but one of the security bots that monitors Roxy's Raceway got damaged. Apparently it drove over a couple wires and they got tangled it its wheels. I'm gonna need you to fix it." she salutes her, not that she could see it.
"I'll get right to it."
"Thanks, hope I didn't interrupt anything." she looks at the arcade machine one more time before shaking her head and leaving the room.
"Nah, I wasn't doing anything important. I'm in the Fazcade right now, shouldn't take me that long to get there."
"Thanks, the last thing we need is to replace another security bot. We haven't been needing to do that thanks to you."
"It's what I was hired for." Vanessa laughs once more "I'll radio you once I'm done."
"Good. I'll be by if you need assistance, though I highly doubt you'll need it. See you later." with a new task added to the list, she puts her walkie talkie back in her holster and leaves the Fazcade. She made sure to say goodbye to DJMM before entering the elevator, questioning the odd "true facts" that plays in the elevator, then stepping out into the atrium. She smiled from where she was at the sight of the main four performing on the stage, the songs were repetitive but it was fun watching them rock out. And who do they have to thank for such a wonderful outcome? She mentally pats herself on the shoulder before finally making her way to Roxy Raceway, she ducks under the automatic shutter doors and hears the erratic sounds from the security bot.
"Alright, dingus, time to get you fixed." slipping the V.A.N.N.I. mask on, she deactivates the machine before pushing it over but setting it down gently to get the wires untangled from its wheels. She grimaced when she saw just how tangled they were in its gears so she had to be as careful as she could as to not damage to wires and the bot itself, it took a bit of time but she finally managed to untangle them. She set the bot upright then checked its system to see if anything else was damaged, she didn't see anything but rebooted the machine so that it would instead head to Parts and Service so she could do a maintenance check on it "Head to my workshop, I'll be there to do thorough examination on you." it salutes her.
"Aye, aye." she shook her head as it rolled out and made its way to Parts and Services, she began to follow after it until she noticed the same prominent purple cable she saw back in the Fazcade. She followed it and saw that it was leading into the Glamrock Beauty Salon, she looked back towards the exit before shrugging her shoulders and following it, maybe she'll find another one of those "Princess Quest" games. As she followed it, she would occasionally take off the V.A.N.N.I. mask to see any changes to the environment, the closer she got to more reality seemed to glitch out. She enters the salon and weaved past the security bots monitoring the building before finally finding the arcade machine hidden in one of the backrooms, and just like the last one, it pulsated while being surrounded by black glitches.
"Princess Quest 1, huh? So there was another one, but what's an arcade machine doing here? Maybe this one will work, unlike the other." she takes the mask off and looks the machine over once again, it was unlike any other arcade machine. It was predominantly black with red trim outlining the frame, giving it a bold but slightly ominous vibe. On the side there's a glowing yellow-orange silhouette of a princess, probably representing the character you play as, on the side, holding what looks like a small lantern or magical object "I wonder if it'll sta--"
"[F/N]!!" she let out a scream when the door to the room was suddenly kicked open by Roxy, before she could question why she did it she was picked up by the canine and dragged out of the room. She let out an oof when Roxy placed her on a swivel seat and spun around a couple times before finally stopping in front of the girl, she perked a brow before letting out a sigh when she saw the state Roxy was in "You've got to fix me! A kid got pizza sauce in my hair!" she leaned over and saw streaks of red in her frizzled hair, I guess she tried getting it out herself but only made it worse.
"You didn't make a scene, did you?" she sniffled, her usually perfect eyeliner and mascara now running down her face.
"I-I tried to keep it together, but once I was out of sight I came here as quickly as I could." [F/N] nods as she grabbed a box of tissues and handed them to the animatronic wolf.
"Good job, management doesn't like when you guys cause a scene in front of the guests. Well done, I expected nothing less of you, Roxy." she shook her head when Roxy beamed a little.
"O-Of course, it was me, after all." she nods.
"Anyways, how'd you know I was here?"
"I passed that security bot and asked if it knew where you were."
"Ah, I see." Roxy's ears flickered up when she saw [F/N] stand up and start walking away.
"W-Where are you going? Aren't you going to fix me?" she waved her hand to dismiss Roxy's anxiousness as she approached a jukebox, she saw that it was plugged in so she smack it a couple times before it sprung to life.
"Well, if I'm gonna give you a makeover, we might as well listen to some classics." she said as she cycled through the many vinyl's, she settled for Duran Duran's "Girls on Film" and turned back to Roxy "So, what are we feeling today?" she asked as she pulled out the many makeup sets provided by Fazbear Entertainment "I may not be as good as a professional makeup artist, but I am pretty good at bringing out a woman's beauty." Roxy couldn't help but gleam at that. It's almost been an hour since [F/N] had started when the salon doors were kicked open by none other than Chica, who was in search for Roxy, and she found [F/N] holding Roxy by the underside of her snout and apply a glittery green lipstick to her lips.
...
...
"Are you gals having a makeover... without me?" [F/N] let out a sigh when Chica started crying, she brought the chicken over to the empty seat beside Roxy, who was currently cooing over her newly applied makeup "Do me next..." she whispered softly with a pout, [F/N] deadpans at the puppy eyes Chica was giving her before pulling out a makeup pallet that matched her color scheme.
"What do you want first?" she clapped her hands in glee. She was going between both female animatronics, from doing Roxy's manicure to applying an eyeshadow that was a soft pastel shade of glittery pink to Chica's eyelids. She was fixing up the streaks on Chica's cheeks when the doors to the salon were kicked open once more, this time it was Monty who entered and was staring at the three of them in mild confusion.
"... what's going on here?"
"... don't question it." Chica giggled softly.
"Wanna join?" he took a deep breath.
"... sure." by the time Freddy arrived at the salon he found [F/N] on a stool as she styled Monty's hair into a pompadour with a comb in between her teeth and a can of hairspray in her hand as she shaped his hair, she tossed the hairspray away as she combed his hair the way she wanted before throwing it away as well then getting in front of his face. His glasses were resting on her head so they wouldn't get in the way and he could just briefly see his reflection through the lenses, she then pulled out just a strand of his hair and curled it around her finger.
"There, I always thought you'd look good with a pompadour." she murmured as she jumped off the stool and grabbed the mirror from Roxy's hands and showed him his reflection, he whistled when he saw what she did.
"Wow, I'm looking good! I should come to you more often, cher."
"Hah, I hope this doesn't becoming a reoccurring thing."
"So this is where you lot have been." they all look over at the sound of Freddy's voice, he raised a brow when he saw the three animatronics all look towards [F/N]. She looked at the three of them then nodded her head, he flinched when three eyes gleam in his direction and then he was suddenly grabbed and sat down in Monty's seat.
"It's your turn, teddy bear." Monty grinned.
"You're going to look so beautiful~" Chica cooed.
"[F/N]'s hands are blessed." Roxy praised, he looked past them towards [F/N] and shrieked when he saw her raise her closed fists and in between her fingers were different makeup cosmetics.
"How did I get here?" they couldn't help but laugh at that. When Vanessa finally found them it was Roxy and Chica doing Freddy's nails by filing and painting them, Monty was holding [F/N] by her waist as she wore Freddy's hat so she could do a different design regarding the face paint he usually wore. Freddy was giggling softly at how focused [F/N] was to not mess up the linework, it was only when she finished did Vanessa make her presence known.
"Ah hem." they all look towards the entrance and saw Vanessa, not looking to impressed to find them all hiding in the salon "Care to explain yourselves." they all look back to [F/N], who looked at them all before shrugging.
"What's a makeover before the big show, Ness? Don't tell me you want one too?" they all laugh when she raised her hands and backed away.
"No way." Monty put her down and she all but collapsed into an empty chair, breathing tiredly, while the animatronics gathered around, marveling at their new looks. Roxy couldn’t keep her eyes off her reflection — her face sparkled under the salon lights, glitter catching every flicker and gleam. She traced a claw along her jawline, utterly mesmerized. Chica was squealing with delight, spinning around in front of the mirror, her voice bouncing off the walls.
"Look at me! The pink really makes my eyes pop!" she gushed, fluttering her eyelids dramatically. Monty was admiring himself too, running a hand through his newly styled pompadour, the hairspray and sheen making him look even sleeker and wilder than before.
"Now this is rockstar material," he said, flashing a sharp grin at his reflection. Even Freddy, who didn't have the flashy changeable features like the others, looked pleased. His new face paint, swirled in soft blues and silvers, gave him a warm, friendly glow — like a true superstar.
"Sometimes," Freddy said with a chuckle, "a little paint can go a long way." [F/N] watched them, slumped in the chair, a tired but genuine smile tugging at her lips.
"I'm glad you like it," [F/N] said, her voice weary but firm, "but don't expect this to be a reoccurring thing." She flinched when they all turned to her in unison, a desperate gleam sparking in their robotic eyes.
"Oh, please? You made us look so good!" Freddy pleaded, hands clasped in front of him with surprising earnestness. "I'm sure the kiddos will love our new looks!" Chica chimes in next, nodding so fast her earrings jingled.
"Yeah!" Chica said again, practically bouncing. "I'm sure even management would love for us to have different looks from time to time — so we don't get boring!" Roxy leaned forward, her glittering makeup making her eyes look even sharper.
"W-We could do this maybe, like, once every two weeks? O-Or once a month? Yeah?" she bargained, voice hopeful, ears twitching. Monty threw an arm around Roxy’s shoulders with a loud clank of metal.
"We promise we won't cause a hassle," he said, flashing another cocky grin, "and we'll even make sure our monthly maintenance is up to date!" The others chimed in with enthusiastic nods and hopeful, mechanical smiles. She stared at them — these huge, glittering animatronics who were begging her for makeovers like overgrown kids. She sighed, rubbing her face.
"Fine," she muttered. "Once a month. Maybe. And only if you behave." she holds her hands out to stop them from grabbing her but that doesn't stop them, Vanessa couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of [F/N]'s arms strung over Freddy's shoulders as she was pulled into a forced group hug. Despite her tired and disgruntled attitude, she couldn't help but smile weakly as she returned the hug.
So—
Management did indeed like the makeovers [F/N] gave to the animatronics — so much so that they made it mandatory she continue to do so. At first, [F/N] was reluctant, already stretched thin between her usual duties and trying to survive the Pizzaplex’s chaos. But when they mentioned another pay raise, she quickly changed her tune. Instead of squeezing it into their regular monthly maintenance checks, it became its own event: Every month, like clockwork, the animatronics would parade back into the Glamrock Beauty Salon — excited, chattering, almost childlike in their eagerness. From new hairstyles between Roxy and Monty, to simple touchups to their makeup for Chica and Freddy, it was a peaceful bliss for all five of them. [F/N] liked it because all she had to do for that day was glamorize them then relax the rest of the day, maybe she had to thank that kid for getting sauce in Roxy's hair.
"Skeet, skeet," she snickered to herself as she rolled into Bonnie Bowl on her newly acquired Heelys. Why was she wearing them? Because Monty had bet she couldn’t use them without wiping out — and now, out of pure spite (and style), she was rolling around the Pizzaplex, mocking him each time she zipped past. Why was she at Bonnie Bowl? Well, apparently the pinsetter mechanisms for a few of the lanes were acting up, and it was her job to fix them before morning. She had a rope tied around a few Caution Bots, letting them lead her toward Bonnie Bowl. She cheered when she let go and coasted through the entrance — only to slam directly into the ball rack with a loud thud.
"Alright, let's see if I can get a strike," she muttered, grabbing a ball. Rolling up to the first lane, she swung her arm back and let the ball fly. It barreled down the lane, knocking all the pins clean off their feet. She pumped a fist in the air as she watched the strike and waited to see if the mechanism would fail. When it didn’t, she ticked a mark on her clipboard and moved to the next lane, repeating the process twenty-one more times. She didn’t get a perfect strike every time, but out of the twenty-two lanes, only six had issues with the pin elevators. Not bad. Rolling along the sidewalk behind the lanes, she located the numbered mechanisms and got to work fixing them. She was lucky they were numbered — otherwise she’d be rolling back and forth all night trying to find the broken ones. As she worked, she noticed an awful lot of Caution Bots lingering around in the back. Were they supposed to do that? Sure, they were designed to warn customers about wet floors and other hazards, but these ones were practically nudging her while she tried to work.
"I'd appreciate it if you stopped that, mmkay?" she said, shoving them back gently to give herself some space. They didn’t let up, though — in fact, more kept gathering. By the time she tightened the last bolt, she was surrounded by nearly a dozen bots. Dropping her torque wrench into her belt, she gave them a tired look. "Okay, fine. You've got my attention. What do you want?"
Instead of answering — not that they could — the Caution Bots began pushing her deeper into the maintenance area, further from the lanes. She started to feel a little uneasy. Were they about to kill her? But no — they stopped in front of a boarded-up section of wall. Confused, she looked down at them — just as one of the bots squeezed through a small opening. She knelt down and peeked through the gap, squinting into the dark room beyond. She could make out a cluster of bots surrounding...something she couldn’t quite see. The first bot beeped at her, urging her to follow.
With a sigh, she stood, pulled the small crowbar from her belt, and started prying off the boards. When she finally cleared most of them away, she put the crowbar back and grabbed her flashlight. Shining it into the dark, she still couldn’t quite make anything out — until she stepped a little closer. And then she saw it.
"What the hell is that?" she whispered. There, crumpled on the far floor, was a broken, battered animatronic. She took a step closer and let the light shine on it just to inspect the damage and try to see just which animatronic it was. It collapsed on the ground, limbs twisted and splayed out awkwardly. Its endoskeleton and inner wiring are partially exposed, and what’s left of his outer shell is filthy, cracked, and faded. Its once-bright paint — mainly blue and red — is grimy and chipped away almost entirely in places. Its face looked severely damaged: the jaw is hanging open unnaturally, one eye is popped out of its socket while both were glowing a sickly yellow "There was only one blue animatronic, Bonnie?" her finger gently brushed against his face and it suddenly sprung to life.
"S-S-Strike! Nice go-- going there, k-kiddo! You j-just got a-a-a str-- strike!" she jumped back in surprise when he spoke, but it wasn't really him speaking but a dialogue from his programming. When his body stopped spasming she finally let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, she approached him once more and kicked his head just to make sure he didn't suddenly wake up again.
"What is he doing here? The reports said he went missing in Monty Golf," she muttered, furrowing her brows. Her eyes dropped to his chest plate — or what was left of it — and noticed the deep, jagged claw marks tearing through the metal, exposing his inner endoskeleton.
Was he attacked?
She never personally met Glamrock Bonnie, but she knew he had been the bassist before... Monty. Her gaze flickered back down to the vicious claw marks. She shook her head. No — Monty couldn't have done this. It was impossible, right? He didn’t even have those claw upgrades until after Bonnie disappeared.
"... he’s still functioning," she mumbled, watching the faint flicker of life in the broken animatronic. She paused, thinking it over — then shrugged. It's not like she had anything better to do.
The next half hour was spent dragging Bonnie’s broken body — and whatever spare pieces she could find — into a nearby maintenance cart. It wasn’t easy; she was lucky his head didn’t fall off when she hoisted his torso up. Each piece was heavier and more fragile than it looked, and it took several frustrating attempts to get him situated without completely falling apart. By the end of it, she was sweaty, scuffed up, and exhausted — but she managed.
"I am not going to have fun lugging his ass back to Parts and Services," she grumbled under her breath. Before leaving, she grabbed a dirty sheet from a nearby pile and draped it over his broken form. He had been abandoned here for a reason — and she definitely didn’t want anyone spotting him.
Luck seemed to be on her side: none of the security guards, and thankfully not Vanessa, were patrolling the atrium when she rolled out of Bonnie Bowl. As long as no one wandered into Parts and Services, no one would know what she had found. Once inside, she carefully laid out each piece on the worktable, lining them up one by one like she was assembling a jigsaw puzzle. His limbs, his shattered chest plate, even the loose wires — everything had a place, and somehow, she’d figure out how to put him back together. Some pieces from his endoskeleton was missing, which was the worst part of all of this because she was going to have to get pieces from... them.
"Okay... I think I jotted everything down. What's missing and what he needs to power him back online." for a better look she was wearing the V.A.N.N.I mask to see which pieces she needed and wrote those down as well, that was when Helpi appeared.
[Proceed with caution about what you power up, [F/N]. Powering up dismantled machinery often leads to dangerous consequences.]
"Yeah, yeah, tell me something I don't know." she murmured as she waved her hand to dismiss the text, but she started thinking. Why was she doing this? She didn't need to fix Bonnie, he was practically decommissioned and everything about him has already been replaced by Monty, just like Roxy did with Foxy. But looking down at his broken down body, clinging to what little life he still had... she was a mechanic, and it was her job to fix what was broken "Alright, bunny boy. Let's get started."
And so—
[F/N] had started picking up more nightshifts, dedicating nearly all her free time to getting Bonnie back up and running. She spent her days fixing what she could under the radar, and stayed overnight to get in extra hours without raising suspicion.
Bonnie’s outer shell was severely damaged — cracked, and dented — but it wasn’t beyond saving. Fortunately, Fazbear Entertainment still had most of his original parts gathering dust in the basement, tossed aside like forgotten junk. Navigating the basement wasn’t easy though; the place was crawling with old, half-functional endoskeletons. The only way she could get around them safely was by using the V.A.N.N.I. mask — a trick she wasn’t exactly proud of, but desperate times, desperate measures. She set up a separate, hidden room to work on him, far from the main Parts and Services bay. That way, if someone happened to walk in, they wouldn’t see what she was up to. Bonnie stayed hidden most of the time, tucked away safely — she only pulled him out when she needed to use the Cylinder to properly align his parts and test his systems.
"Okay... I think I’ve fixed most of your programming. Most of it got fried by something," [F/N] said as she typed away at the terminal outside the Protective Cylinder, eyes flicking between lines of code.
[Whatever caused Glamrock Bonnie to malfunction has been completely overridden. Good job, superstar!]
"It wasn’t easy. Whatever was inside it was bad." she said as she huffed a laugh while she flexed her sore fingers. "What can't this Faz-Wrench do?" It had taken multiple attempts just to flush out the corrupted data before she could replace it with something fresh. Whatever had latched onto Bonnie's systems was stubborn — outdated, malicious, and deeply rooted. "It was completely outdated. Fitting him with something new should bring his systems back online."
[Very much so. That chip is what all active animatronics are fitted with — though his differs slightly. Since he hasn't undergone the same maintenance cycles as the others, his endoskeleton remains heavily outdated. He will not be able to access the shared network.]
"I see..." she muttered, frowning thoughtfully. "But what can we even do with so few resources for his model?" She pushed the final command. The Cylinder doors hissed open, revealing Bonnie’s partially repaired frame inside. Pulling her V.A.N.N.I. mask up and out of the way, she stepped inside with the small chip in hand. Carefully, she slotted it into the back of Bonnie’s head, following the intercom's calm, mechanical instructions. One by one, she began plugging his limbs back together — reconnecting joints, wiring, hydraulic lines — rebuilding him piece by piece like a forgotten relic being stitched back to life.
[Now, all that's left is for the final touch.]
"Yup." she holds out the Faz-Wrench and watched as it buzzed to life.
[Reactivation: 0 of 1]
...
...
[Animatronic Reactivated]
SAFE MODE...
REBOOT...
SYSTEM INITIALIZATION... CHECKING COMPONENTS... OK INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS... OK INITIALIZING AI ENGINE... OK MEMORY STATUS...
ALL SYSTEMS... OK
Bonnie’s body twitched once — a sharp, sudden jolt — then fell still. A few tense seconds passed before another shudder ran through him. His fingers twitched. His head gave a slow, mechanical tilt. Then, with a sharp hiss of vented air, his eyes slowly flickered open — soft, unfocused glows against the dim room.
"Hmm... optical receptors seem to be operational," [F/N] said, her voice casual but focused. The sudden sound startled Bonnie. His head snapped toward her voice, mechanical joints creaking in protest. He found [F/N] looming over him, studying him closely as she tapped a knuckle lightly against his faceplate. "Only one of his eyes was damaged but I had to replace both with some spares from Monty’s stockpile."
"H-Hello..." Bonnie’s voice crackled weakly to life. [F/N] perked up immediately, grabbing the clipboard she had left nearby and scribbling down notes in a quick, messy hand.
"Voice module’s operational too," she said, grinning a little. "Good — real good. Glad I managed to patch that one up." Bonnie watched her silently, blinking slowly, still trying to make sense of what was happening — and of the stranger who was putting him back together piece by piece.
"Wh-where…?" His voice was weak "W-who are…?"
"Oh, that's right. I'm new to you, but I've been around for nearly a year now. My name is [F/N], and I'm the new mechanic for Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex." Bonnie blinked slowly, the flickering light behind his eye struggling to stay steady. His whole body trembled slightly, like it was taking real effort just to sit up. Without thinking, [F/N] took a step forward and grabbed his arm to steady him. "Whoa, easy there, champ. You’ve been offline for a long time. Gotta let the systems catch up." she spoke, her voice now steady.
"What... what happened?" she shrugged as she helped him settle back down.
"Why don't you tell me? I found you abandoned behind Bonnie Bowl, and might I add, in pieces. It took me forever to put you back together. Your systems were fried, your frame was a mess... I’m no professional technician, but," she tapped her chest with mock pride, "I think I did a stupendous job reprogramming you." Bonnie’s lights flickered faintly as he processed her words. His hands, clunky and trembling, flexed weakly at his sides. He didn’t understand how or why — but somehow, he was here. And somehow, she had brought him back.
"Thank you..." she chuckled softly.
"Don't worry about it," [F/N] said lightly, flipping through her clipboard. "It's my job to fix those who are broken. But you're still not completely patched up yet. You’re missing a couple components that I need to replace before you're one hundred percent operational." She tapped the side of the clipboard with her pen, scanning the list of parts she had ordered — all disguised in the paperwork as "upgrades for the other animatronics." Bonnie shifted slightly, servos whining as he tested the movement in his repaired limbs. He looked up at her, the faintest trace of awe in his voice.
"This is... surreal. The last mechanic I remember was a man." [F/N] chuckled under her breath.
"Yeah, well... that was a really long time ago. Fazbear Entertainment’s been without a real professional mechanic for a while now."
"Really?" Bonnie tilted his head, confused. "How strange." She narrowed her eyes slightly, stepping closer.
"Hmm. I'm sure I fixed your memory bank. Maybe you just need some time. Systems like yours don’t exactly reboot overnight." ," she said thoughtfully, reaching up to lightly tap the side of his head. Her fingers drifted lower, brushing across the newly repaired surface of his chest plate — the metal cool and smooth under her touch. "Whatever damaged you and left you back there... they didn’t want you being found." Bonnie remained still, his glowing eyes dimming slightly as if he was trying — and failing — to reach for memories that weren’t there anymore.
"I apologize." she shook her head.
"There isn't a need, we still have plenty of time to get you back in shape. I'm sure Freddy, the gang and the children will be thrilled to see their favorite and loveable bunny up and running again!" she cheered and that seemed to lift his spirits.
"Yes, yes! I have missed them very much! M-May I see them now?" she gave him a guilty look.
"Unfortunately... not yet," [F/N] said, frowning sadly at the defeated noise that came out of him.
"Oh..." Bonnie visibly deflated at her words, his shoulders slumping with a faint mechanical creak. Seeing it tugged at something in her chest. She sighed, setting the clipboard down and crouching a little to meet his gaze.
"Listen, Bonnie," she began, choosing her words carefully. "I... wasn’t supposed to fix you. I wasn’t even supposed to find you." He blinked slowly, confusion and sadness flickering behind his damaged optics.
"What?" she nods.
"It was a miracle I even managed to, and that’s only because the Caution Bots wouldn’t stop bothering me." She huffed a dry laugh under her breath, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "If management finds out I wasted resources on a 'decommissioned animatronic'..." she hesitated, grimacing. "The worst case? I get fired."
"So... what, then?"
"So... if you want to stay — really stay — I have to bring you back to perfect condition," she said, her voice firming up again. "Good enough that management can’t just write you off. Good enough that they have to let you stay."
"O... Okay," he said, voice crackling faintly but sincere. [F/N]'s face lit up instantly. She reached out without thinking and gently took his hand, giving it a small, apologetic squeeze.
"Good, good!" she beamed. "And I'm really sorry you can't see the others yet — but I promise I'll get you up and running as fast as I can." Her enthusiasm was infectious. Even in his weakened state, Bonnie felt a flicker of something warm inside his worn-out systems. It wasn’t much, but for the first time since reactivation, he managed a small, genuine smile. Weak — but real.
And that’s how [F/N] spent the following weeks — carefully, patiently — getting Bonnie back up and running. Like the other animatronics during her first week at the Pizzaplex, he was wary of her at first, flinching slightly whenever she got too close or adjusted his wiring. It was understandable. From what she had been told before becoming the go-to mechanic, their last technician had been cruel, treating them like nothing more than broken machines to kick back into shape.
But [F/N] was different. Sure, she knew what they were — robots, circuits, programming — but there was something about them that felt alive. Something that made her treat them like more than just animatronics. And little by little, Bonnie began to realize it too. It was a little embarrassing, but when she was checking his motor skills and teaching him to walk again after laying dormant for a long time, she treated him as a toddler who was walking for the first time.
"Come on, big guy! I'll be right here to catch you." she reassured as she stood a couple feet from where he was sitting, she chuckled softly when he pressed his pawed hand over his eyes to shield himself from the embarrassing image.
"I-I can do this by myself..."
"Sure, bunny boy. But what's a little help, hmm?" peeking out from between his fingers, he saw her standing there, hands still outstretched, patient and encouraging. "I promise to catch you." Bonnie hesitated a moment longer... then slowly dropped his hand and pushed himself up with a mechanical whir, joints clicking softly as he found his balance. "There you go," [F/N] teased, hands still out. "C'mon, don’t leave me hangin’, superstar." Bonnie grumbled under his breath, ears twitching in clear embarrassment as he took a shaky step forward. His servos whined from disuse, and his heavy frame wobbled precariously.
"You're doing great," she said, grinning wide enough for him to see it. "Like a big ol’ baby deer."
"I am not a baby," Bonnie muttered, taking another uneven step — and immediately tipping sideways. [F/N] laughed and lunged forward just in time to catch him, staggering slightly under his weight but managing to steady them both.
"Whoa, easy there, big guy!" she said brightly, patting his arm like he was made of paper instead of reinforced alloy. "What’d I tell you? I'd catch you." Bonnie stayed frozen for a second longer than necessary, blinking down at her with wide, embarrassed eyes before slowly straightening up, careful this time.
"Th-Thank you," he mumbled.
"Hey, no problem," she said with a wink, stepping back. "Besides, I'm not letting you face-plant after all this work fixing you. That would seriously ruin my repair record." Bonnie huffed out something that almost sounded like a laugh — shy, but real. By the end of the day he was walking all on his own, under her supervision, and though he wasn't yet able to move as well as he did in the past, at least he wasn't fal-- oh, spoke to soon.
"Hey, no problem," she said with a wink, stepping back. "Besides, I'm not letting you face-plant after all this work fixing you. That would seriously ruin my repair record." Bonnie huffed out something that almost sounded like a laugh — shy, but real. By the end of the day, he was walking on his own, moving carefully under [F/N]'s watchful eye. His steps were still stiff and unsteady, but he was upright — and he hadn't needed her to catch him for a while now. Progress. She leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, watching him pace the small room.
"Look at you go, practically a track star." Bonnie huffed again, a little louder this time — almost a laugh — as he focused on taking another solid step forward. At least, until his foot caught on a loose wire. He stumbled, arms flailing in a desperate attempt to catch himself — but it was too late. "Oh, spoke too soon," [F/N] muttered just as he crashed face-first into the floor with a loud metallic thud.
...
...
"You okay down there, champ?" [F/N] snorted, trying and failing to hold back a laugh. Bonnie groaned miserably into the floor, one hand giving a feeble thumbs-up.
Bonnie was now resting inside a charging station, his systems whirring quietly as he powered down after a long, exhausting day of rehab. Meanwhile, [F/N] sat hunched over a cluttered worktable, sketches and blueprints spread out in a messy fan around her. She twirled her pencil between her fingers as she stared at the latest design she was working on: a new, custom upgrade for Bonnie’s hands.
She was basing it off both his original schematics and Monty's claw design — trying to create something better. Stronger, yes, but more refined. The claws Monty had weren’t exactly her favorite piece of tech. They hadn’t been designed by her, and they had clear flaws. Sure, they let him play the bass better with the strength boost, but Monty’s lack of regulation often meant snapped strings, shattered basses, and more than a few frustrated tantrums.
[F/N] tapped her pencil against the table thoughtfully. Bonnie deserved better than that. He needed precision and strength — not brute force. She glanced over at the charging station, where the faint blue glow around Bonnie’s frame pulsed with each slow breath of the charger. A small smile tugged at her lips.
"I'll get you something even better, big guy," she murmured under her breath, scribbling a few more adjustments onto the blueprint. "Something that won’t just make you strong... but make you you again."
Hours passed. The Pizzaplex had long since fallen into its eerie nighttime silence, save for the occasional mechanical whir or distant buzz of a maintenance bot roaming the halls. But in the tucked-away workshop, the only sound was the scratch of [F/N]’s pencil and the occasional tired sigh.
She was determined to get it right. Every line on the blueprint, every measurement, had to be perfect. Bonnie wasn’t just another project — not to her. But eventually, exhaustion crept in. Her pencil slipped from her fingers, clattering softly against the table, and her head dipped forward until she slumped against her arms, fast asleep. The soft, even rise and fall of her breathing was the only movement in the room.
Across the way, the charging station gave a low hum as it completed its cycle. The doors hissed open, releasing Bonnie in a mist of cool air. His systems rebooted sluggishly, optics adjusting to the dim light. For a moment he simply stood there, trying to get his bearings — until he noticed her. [F/N], curled up awkwardly at her workbench, fast asleep amidst scattered blueprints, loose wiring, and tools.
Bonnie’s ears drooped slightly, a strange, unfamiliar feeling stirring somewhere deep in his still-recovering systems. Carefully, quietly, he stepped forward, mindful of the newly calibrated servos in his legs. He moved with surprising grace for someone who could barely walk earlier that day. He stopped just beside her, tilting his head as he studied her sleeping form. There was smudged pencil lead on her fingers, a wrench tucked under one arm like she was guarding it in her sleep, and a soft little frown of concentration still lingering on her face even in rest.
She’d worked herself to exhaustion — for him.
Bonnie’s gaze shifted to the blueprint in front of her. Even without fully understanding all the technical details, he recognized the shape of the new hands she was designing: built for precision, for control, with a strength that could be guided rather than forced.
Built for him.
Slowly, Bonnie reached out, his newly repaired fingers hovering uncertainly for a moment before gently pulling a nearby spare cloth over her shoulders like a blanket. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
"...Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible, before sitting down against the wall nearby, content to keep quiet watch until she woke. It wasn’t until a couple hours later that [F/N] stirred. She blinked blearily, sitting up with a groggy groan and rubbing her eyes. Her fingers brushed the cloth draped over her shoulders, and she froze for a second, confused. She didn’t remember grabbing a cloth... her sleepy gaze drifted across the room — and there, sitting quietly with his back against the wall, was Bonnie. He stiffened the moment he realized she was awake, his optics darting away quickly like a kid caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. [F/N] blinked again, then smiled sleepily.
"Were you... watching over me?" Bonnie shifted awkwardly, fidgeting with the edge of his paw plates.
"N-No... I was just... resting," he said, very unconvincingly. She let out a soft laugh, sitting up straighter and letting the cloth fall into her lap.
"Right. You were ‘resting’... conveniently right next to me." Bonnie's ears twitched, and if he could blush, he probably would have. [F/N] stood up, stretching her arms over her head with a loud yawn. "Well, I appreciate the concern, Bunny Boy. Guess you’re sweeter than you look." Bonnie ducked his head shyly, but a faint, pleased whirr came from his chest. She moved to her worktable, tapping the designs she’d fallen asleep over. "I’ll have your new hands ready soon. Then we can finally get you back to playing bass — without snapping it in half like a certain someone." Bonnie chuckled softly under his breath.
"Thank you," he said again, this time a little stronger, a little more sure. [F/N] grinned at him over her shoulder.
"Anytime, big guy. That’s what friends are for, right?" The word friends made Bonnie's chest give a tiny, unfamiliar flutter — a warm, strange feeling he couldn’t quite explain.
But he decided he liked it.
Very much.
Bit by bit, Bonnie was slowly becoming himself again.
As she worked with him day after day, [F/N] couldn't help but wonder about the animatronic sitting before her. She never personally met Glamrock Bonnie before — at least, not when he was fully active. When she was little, she remembered visiting a Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria once or twice, but her memories of him were hazy at best. In her mind, he was always just the bunny with the bass... or was it a guitar? She couldn’t even remember which.
But Freddy and Chica remembered him.
And when [F/N] had mentioned Bonnie’s name in passing conversation, both had lit up with a fondness that was hard to ignore. They missed him terribly — and from the way they spoke, Bonnie had been quite the lively character. Freddy described him as "boisterous, but dependable," while Chica had simply called him "a big, goofy show-off with a heart of gold." [F/N] smiled a little at the memory as she adjusted the fit of the prototype hand she'd built. Bonnie watched her closely, his newly repaired optics focused on her with a cautious but growing trust.
"You know," she said as she tightened a few screws, "from everything Freddy and Chica have told me... you were a real handful back in the day." Bonnie's ears perked slightly.
"Handful...?"
"Yeah," she said, glancing up at him. "Loud. Energetic. Always goofing off between shows. You sound like you were the life of the party." Bonnie stared at her for a moment, as if trying to reach back into half-broken memories. His expression softened, and then, faintly — a chuckle.
"I... I think I remember," he said, almost shyly. "I liked making them laugh." [F/N] grinned, giving his newly installed hand a little test squeeze.
"Sounds about right. They miss you, you know." Bonnie blinked slowly, his voice dropping a little.
"...I miss them too." She sighed softly, reaching out and gently taking his hand into hers, her other hand giving the top of his paw a reassuring pat.
"I know you do," she said quietly. "But at the rate we’re going, I’m sure to have you up and running in no time." Bonnie's optics softened, and a small, genuine smile crossed his face. Her confidence, her steady presence — it was comforting in a way he hadn’t realized he needed.
"Okay," he said, his voice steadier. "I trust you." [F/N] beamed at him, giving his hand a small squeeze before stepping back.
"Good! Now, flex your hands," she ordered, her voice flipping from compassionate to all-business in a blink. Bonnie couldn’t help but chuckle — a deep, low sound — at how fast her demeanor changed. Still, he did exactly as she asked without complaint. Slowly, he opened and closed his fingers, testing the new joints. There was a slight stiffness at first, but already he could feel how much more natural the movement was compared to his old ones.
"Not bad," she said, watching closely, a pencil tucked behind her ear. "How's it feel?"
"Different... but better," Bonnie admitted, flexing his fingers again and rotating his wrists carefully. "Stronger. Smoother."
"That's what I like to hear," she said with a proud little grin, jotting a few quick notes onto her clipboard.
Now came her biggest problem yet — she needed a bass guitar. She couldn't just take Monty's. He would definitely notice if it was tampered with, and if it went missing for any length of time, he'd throw a tantrum the size of the entire Pizzaplex. The last thing [F/N] wanted was to deal with that kind of fallout. Ordering a new bass was off the table too. Management would absolutely question why she needed one when Monty’s was still perfectly functional. She couldn't afford to draw attention — not with Bonnie still a secret project hidden away in her workshop.
That left her with only one real option: make one herself.
She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as she stared at her notes. It wouldn't be easy. She'd have to dig through the piles of discarded parts, broken props, and scrap metal collecting dust down in the basement — the same place she'd scavenged for Bonnie’s replacement parts. It was risky. Time-consuming. Honestly, a little crazy. But when she glanced over at Bonnie, quietly recharging in his station with that peaceful look on his face, she decided it was worth it.
"Guess it's time to play junkyard hero," she muttered, grabbing her flashlight and tightening her toolbelt. If she could rebuild an entire animatronic out of scraps and stubbornness, she could definitely build a bass guitar.
Right?
Well—
She was sprawled over her workbench, the mask slipping off her face, her duffle bag of parts spilled across the table in disarray. Why was she so exhausted? Because she'd been darting around the basement, collecting parts while carefully avoiding the endoskeletons. They were usually dormant, but tonight—something had changed. They were more active, more aggressive. It would have been impossible to gather anything if not for the V.A.N.N.I. mask. Still, they'd gotten too close, closer than she was comfortable with.
“What the hell is up with them?” She shook her head, dumping the contents of the bag onto the table. She grabbed a couple of busted guitars, each showing signs of years of damage. Most had broken necks, some were missing tuning pegs and string trees, but the one in the best shape just needed a few parts replaced on the body. She wasn’t a luthier, but she could build a bass from scratch. This project had to be a secret from Bonnie. She wanted to surprise him with his own personal bass after he'd lost his to Monty. Each time they went through his maintenance, she’d make sure to hide everything related to the bass, keeping it out of sight so he wouldn't find it. Even when she had to leave Parts and Services to do her work as the mechanic and technician for the Pizzaplex, she made sure it stayed hidden—no one could know.
But, all the projects were slowly taking a toll on her body.
“If Moony catches you, he’ll be very upset,” Chica warned, watching [F/N] dismiss the concern with a casual wave of her hand.
“Eh, I’m doing great. I’m not causing any incidents—so all’s well that ends well,” [F/N] replied, trying to brush it off. Chica pouted softly and gently reached forward, cupping [F/N]'s cheek.
“I can’t help but worry we’re overworking you,” Chica said, her voice softening. “You’re one of the few mechanics we'd actually miss if you suddenly left,” she added with a chuckle.
“Aw, don’t worry about me,” [F/N] grinned, though it didn’t quite reach her tired eyes. “Besides, I highly doubt management will find anyone to replace me. I’m one of the few people who actually puts up with their bullshit.” Chica raised her hand as she saw [F/N] start to sway slightly, her exhaustion obvious.
“Okay, sweetheart,” she said, her tone shifting to one of gentle concern. “Just make sure to visit the Daycare, or I’ll send Moony after you myself.”
"Are you threatening me?" [F/N] laughed, her own smile returning despite the heavy weariness tugging at her. "I never took you for that kind of person." They shared another easy laugh, the moment light and natural, before [F/N] turned back to her work. She knelt down to check over Chica’s frame again — but paused when something caught her eye inside the animatronic's open chest cavity. Leaning in closer, [F/N]'s brow furrowed. Reaching in carefully she paused when she pulled out an empty chip packet.
"...Ah hah," Chica started, averting her gaze from the mechanic "How'd that get in there?" [F/N] shook her head in exasperation, tossing the crumpled wrapper into the trashcan behind her with a practiced flick.
"What did I say about eating the garbage, Chica?" Chica gave a sheepish little laugh, her servo claws fidgeting.
"I know, I know," she said, voice lilting with guilt. "I just... I get really hungry." [F/N] couldn't help but laugh, a tired but fond sound, as she wiped her hands on her pants.
"You're lucky you're cute," she teased, tapping Chica’s beak lightly. "Otherwise I'd have to report you to the janitorial team."
"Heh, thanks."
"Don't make me catch more trash inside you," [F/N] warned, crossing her arms. "You know what it does to your systems. It screws with your wiring and it's a pain to get it all out."
"I'm sorry, truly," Chica said, hanging her head in shame. Satisfied, [F/N] nodded and took a step back, pressing the correct colored buttons to reseal Chica’s chest plate. With a soft hiss, the panel clicked back into place. "Thanks again, sugar. My voice box had been acting up lately," Chica said brightly, giving a playful salute.
"Don't worry about it," [F/N] said with a tired chuckle. "Just be careful with what you consume, okay?"
"I will!" Chica chirped before twiddling her fingers in a cutesy farewell and skipping off toward her elevator. Once the bird was gone, [F/N] all but collapsed into her seat, burying her face in her hands. The exhaustion she'd been fighting — from the endless repairs, Bonnie’s reconstruction, and the slow, painstaking restoration of his bass — was finally catching up with her. She groaned softly, rubbing her face in an effort to ward off the overwhelming urge to just pass out right then and there.
"I'm so close," she told herself stubbornly. "What's a few more hours?"
Just as she reached for her clipboard again, a thought struck her.
"Wait a minute... what time is it—?" Before she could even glance at the clock, the power abruptly cut out, plunging the room into darkness. A low, sinister chuckle echoed through the air, and the faint jingling of bells quickly followed. [F/N] sighed, shoulders sagging in resignation. "Go ahead, do your thing," she muttered into the darkness. From the shadows, long, spindly limbs wrapped around her gently but firmly, and a familiar, unsettling face — all bells and toothy grin — appeared at her side.
"It's past your bedtime," Moondrop whispered, voice dripping with faux-sweetness as he cradled her against him like a wayward child.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Let's just get this over with," [F/N] grumbled, waving a lazy hand at him. Moondrop only giggled — that eerie, childish sound — before whisking her off the chair like she weighed nothing at all. She didn’t even bother to struggle; her body was practically deadweight by the time they reached the Daycare.
True to his word, Moondrop had already prepared a little tent in a quiet corner, complete with a pile of soft cushions and a blanket. Without much ceremony, he tucked her inside, setting the blanket over her as if she were one of the Daycare kids. No disturbances. No alarms. Just the quiet hum of the Daycare’s systems. When the lights inevitably switched back to day mode and Sundrop sprang to life, he immediately noticed her sleeping form and smiled warmly. Grabbing a facemask from the first-aid kit, he carefully slipped it over her eyes to shield her from the sudden brightness, patting her head once before quietly bustling around to clean the area. Every now and then, he’d tiptoe past her on exaggeratedly quiet feet, making absolutely sure not to wake her.
Throughout the night, a few of the animatronics stopped by one by one — Freddy, Chica, Roxy, and Monty — peeking in through the entrance of the tent. They each lingered for a moment, quietly ensuring she was okay before slipping away again without a word. None of them dared wake her; they just shared small glances among themselves, respectful and oddly protective. The Daycare — usually so chaotic and full of noise — was, for once, calm. And [F/N] slept on, wrapped up in a rare, peaceful stillness she hadn't felt in weeks.
Hours later...
"Mm..." [F/N] laced her fingers together as she stretched her arms over her head, hearing her knuckles crack with the movement. She blinked herself awake and tugged off the mask shielding her eyes. It took a second to register where she was — the cozy little tent Moondrop had set up for her. She smiled, tired but genuinely grateful. "I definitely needed that," she muttered, brushing hair from her face. Her attention shifted when Sundrop appeared at the opening of the tent, arms crossed, his usually cheery face pulled into a dramatic frown of disapproval. "Thanks for caring so much," [F/N] said softly, her voice free of sarcasm, her gratitude genuine. Sundrop beamed.
"Well, of course! There's isn't anything we wouldn't do for you, friend!" She smiled warmly, her heart squeezing a little at the sincerity of it.
"I appreciate that. Then stop eating glitter glue, dammit." At that, Sundrop immediately averted his gaze, whistling innocently.
"I'll do almost anything for you," he mumbled under his breath. [F/N] rolled her eyes but laughed, the sound light and infectious. The others chuckled along, unknown to them, Vanessa had been making her rounds when she noticed that Rockstar Row was suspiciously quiet. Curious, she followed the trail to the Daycare—and froze, blinking at the sight before her. Peeking through the door, she caught a glimpse of the impromptu "sleepover": all the animatronics were piled together in a loose circle, with [F/N] fast asleep in the middle, completely content and safe among them. Sundrop fussed with a blanket over her while the others lounged nearby, watching over her like protective siblings. Vanessa smiled to herself, letting out a quiet, relieved chuckle.
"And here I was getting worried she'd drop dead in the middle of one of her shifts." Shaking her head fondly, she stepped back and let them have their peace.
[weeks later]
"Haha! I did it! It's done!" [F/N] cheered, her arms thrown up in triumph.
Spread out on the workbench before her was Bonnie’s new bass, gleaming under the workshop lights. It wasn't perfect — not by Fazbear Entertainment's shiny, corporate standards — but it was theirs. Every part had been carefully scavenged, restored, and repainted with steady, meticulous hands. She ran her fingers gently along the neck of the bass, admiring the deep, rich blue accents she added to match Bonnie's original colors. It was sturdy, well-balanced, and most importantly, made for him.
“All that’s left is to tune it,” she said with a grin, grabbing a nearby tuner and sitting down with the bass cradled in her lap. The familiar feeling of strings under her fingers, the subtle vibrations humming through the wood—it almost made her giddy. She wasn't a professional by any means, but after tuning Chica’s guitar and Monty’s bass more times than she could count, it had become almost as easy as breathing for [F/N]. Her hands moved automatically, adjusting the tension of each string, plucking lightly to hear the notes ring out. It sounded terrible, of course, but it wasn't going to take long for her to get it sounding like new.
The low, steady hum of the bass strings filled the otherwise silent room as [F/N] carefully plucked and adjusted each one, her brow furrowed in focus. She sat cross-legged on the floor, the newly restored bass resting against her legs, the fresh paint gleaming under the workshop lights. She didn’t notice the soft sound of footsteps behind her — or the tall figure that lingered just beyond the doorway.
Bonnie stood there, one paw braced lightly against the doorframe, his ears tilted forward in curiosity. His eyes, brighter now thanks to her repairs, softened at the sight before him. He didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. He simply watched. The way she worked, with such care, such deliberate attention to every small detail — it stirred something in him. She wasn't just fixing something broken. She was giving something back to him. Something he thought he had lost forever. He caught the small smile that tugged at her lips when she strummed a note and heard it ring true. She tilted her head, tuning by ear, completely immersed in what she was doing. There was a quiet joy about her — a kind of pride and excitement that made Bonnie’s nonexistent heart ache a little.
And still, he didn’t disturb her.
Instead, he leaned silently against the frame, arms loosely crossed over his broad chest, content just to stay in that moment. Watching. Grateful.
He could wait a little longer to say thank you.
Bonnie's ears twitched slightly when he heard her voice — so soft, so full of affection for something she built just for him. He watched as she cradled the bass like it was something precious, her cheek pressed against the cool metal of the neck, her excitement lighting her face from within.
"He's going to love you," she whispered, tying a bright ribbon into a neat, proud bow around the bass’s neck. Bonnie felt something in his chest that he didn’t have words for. A warmth that buzzed through his frame, low and steady. He stayed silent, letting her have this moment without knowing she had an audience. She stepped back to admire her handiwork, hands on her hips, beaming with satisfaction. Something about it made Bonnie's own smile tug wider. Not because of the gift itself — though it was beautiful — but because of her. The care she put into it. The way she thought of him even when he wasn’t looking. She turned around and the presence that was watching her disappeared back down the hall he came from, she looked around once more before picking up the finished bass and putting it away before Bonnie could appear and see it. "I can't wait for him to see this."
And that’s where we find [F/N], hunched over Bonnie’s frame, polishing the metal and preparing his paint job. The body was smooth—free of dents or cracks—but still devoid of the signature colors that made him who he was. A photo of Bonnie, from before he was trashed, lay next to her on the workbench, the only reference to guide her as she worked. She glanced between the photo and the blank canvas before her, carefully adjusting Bonnie’s chin with one hand, holding him steady as she worked.
Her fingers, skilled from years of doing Roxy and Chica’s eyeliner, moved with ease, applying the delicate touch around his eyes. The eyeliner was subtle but precise, creating the sharp outline that defined his expression. She was meticulous, ensuring the curve was just right, just like she had done a hundred times before on the others. As she finished, she took a step back, making sure everything aligned perfectly, her tired eyes scanning his face for any imperfections that didn’t exist.
Next, she moved on to the paint. The airbrush in her hand hummed softly as she began to layer color over his frame, each stroke smooth and deliberate. There was no damage to cover, no wear and tear to fix—just an empty surface awaiting the familiar hues that once adorned him. She worked quickly but with purpose, spraying layers of color—deep blues and purples, with accents of gold—building him back up, piece by piece.
“Nearly done…” [F/N] murmured to herself, finishing the purple lining along Bonnie’s jumpsuit. She admired the smooth, flawless strokes with a small smile before reaching for a purple earring. Standing on a nearby stool to get a better angle, she carefully clipped it to Bonnie’s right ear. She chuckled softly, flicking the earring gently with her finger. Once satisfied, she stepped down from the stool and grabbed a brush to tidy up Bonnie’s hair. With gentle, precise strokes, she smoothed the strands into place, making sure every lock was styled just right.
The air was quiet except for the soft sounds of her movements, but as she finished and stepped back to take in her work, Bonnie looked as vibrant as ever. The purple hues, the gleam of the earring—it was as if he’d never been damaged at all. She took a moment to admire the work, the small but significant transformation that brought him back to life in her own way.
“Perfect,” [F/N] said with a satisfied smile, stepping back to admire her work. She grabbed a small mirror from the table and held it up in front of Bonnie. “Don’t you just look beautiful?”
Bonnie took the mirror from her slowly, almost hesitantly, his fingers brushing against the glass as if uncertain it was real. He lifted it to his face, eyes widening as he took in his reflection. The vibrant purple tones of his jumpsuit gleamed under the light, the freshly applied eyeliner sharp and precise, and the small earring catching the light just right. His face softened, and for a moment, there was a trace of disbelief in his eyes, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. He turned his head slightly, inspecting every detail, the smooth metal surface that had once been dull now shining with life.
“I… I don’t even recognize myself,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe. He lifted the mirror a little higher, his gaze lingering on the work [F/N] had done. “You… you really fixed me. All this time, I didn’t think I’d ever look like this again.” she chuckled, crossing her arms.
"Doubted me, hmm?" There was a pause, and he turned to her, his expression softening.
“Thank you, [F/N]. I don’t know what to say… I’m… I’m grateful.”
[F/N]'s eyes widened softly at the look in Bonnie’s gaze—the deep gratitude, the way it shimmered in his eyes, as if he could hardly believe someone had actually found him and restored him when he’d been left abandoned behind his bowling alley. He hadn’t asked her to fix him. Hell, nobody had. It had been a choice she’d made on her own, just because she could. But as Bonnie sat there, looking at her with such appreciation, she realized it wasn’t about what she’d gotten in return—what she had was a simple thank you. And that, in itself, was more than enough. She cleared her throat, breaking the quiet moment, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.
"W-Well, don’t thank me yet," [F/N] said, her voice softening as she stepped back slightly. "There’s still one more thing to complete the look." She briefly left his side, disappearing behind a nearby shelf. Bonnie’s eyes followed her, a curious expression crossing his face. When she returned, though, he already knew what was coming. She pulled something out from behind her back—a bass guitar, the same one he had seen her tuning just hours before. [F/N] held it up with a hesitant smile. “It took me a bit of time, with all the pieces I had to scrounge for, and the fact that I’ve never made a bass guitar before... But whatever. I made it for you.”
However, [F/N] watched Bonnie stand up and carefully place the bass down, she was taken by surprise when he began approaching her. She instinctively took a step back, confusion flickering across her face. But before she could say anything, he reached her, and in one smooth motion, he wrapped his metallic arms around her, pulling her into a warm, careful embrace. She squeaked in surprise, her hands instinctively pressing against his chest, but she could feel the careful restraint in his hold. His arms were strong, yet he regulated his strength to make sure he didn’t crush her or bring her any harm. For a moment, the only sound was the soft hum of his body, the warmth of his touch unexpected and comforting.
"I’ve already said it a thousand times over, but thank you," Bonnie's voice was low, almost reverent. “T-Thank you for not giving up on me. This means so much to me.”
He gently pulled away, and [F/N] found herself staring into his eyes, wide and soft with a look that took her breath away. He wasn’t the same worn, broken animatronic she had found behind the bowling alley. He was whole again, and in that moment, his gratitude was unmistakable. He looked at her as if she had done something far beyond what she ever expected of herself.
"I wish I could give you something back," Bonnie said quietly, his voice sincere, his tone gentle. "You’ve done so much for me... I just... I wish I could show you how much this means."
[F/N] hung frozen for a moment, taking in his words. She wasn’t used to this kind of gratitude, not like this. Freddy and Chica were affectionate in their own ways, always warm and supportive, and even Sunny had his playful moments of kindness. But none of them had ever done something like this—not in the way Bonnie had just shown her. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized the depth of his words, the weight of his sincerity. His hands, though metallic, were careful and tender as he held her. It was something she hadn’t expected, and the softness in his gaze made her feel a wave of warmth, something she hadn’t realized she needed until this very moment. She cleared her throat, trying to shake off the feeling that was rising in her chest.
“You don’t have to give me anything, Bonnie,” [F/N] said softly, her voice a little shaky. “Seeing you back on your feet... that’s more than enough for me.” At her words, Bonnie’s body seemed to deflate slightly, a soft, almost helpless expression crossing his face. He stood there for a moment, the hum of his internal mechanisms filling the space, before he spoke again, his voice quieter this time.
"I’ve been on the receiving end ever since I reactivated,” he said, a faint sadness in his voice. “I want to be able to give you something, even if it’s small…” For a moment, it felt like she was dealing with a child, unsure and desperate to give something back, and it was clear he wasn’t going to let go of the idea anytime soon. She could see it in his eyes—the same persistence she’d seen in him when he was first reactivated. Her hand gently patted his arm, a comforting gesture, and she looked around for something to ease the tension. Her gaze fell upon the bass he had so carefully set aside, just to hug her. She smiled softly at the instrument, an idea forming in her mind.
“Well, um, how about...” she began, trailing off as a soft hue dusted her cheeks. Her heart fluttered embarrassingly slightly at the thought of what she was about to suggest. She cleared her throat. “How about you play me a song?” Bonnie’s ears perked up immediately, his eyes lighting up as he leaned forward.
“Oh, I can do that! I’ll play you the best song, just for you!” Before [F/N] could even process his excitement, he plopped her down onto a nearby stool with a gentle but hurried motion, his hands moving as he rushed around Parts and Services. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of him scrambling, grabbing a nearby bass amplifier and setting it up with a purpose. As he took the ribbon off the bass, he paused for a moment, studying it with an almost mischievous glint in his eyes. Instead of discarding it, as one might expect, he carefully tied it around his neck and fashioned it into a makeshift bowtie. The sight of him wearing it so proudly made her smile. How adorable. She couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at the sight of him, so proud of his little touch.
"You look great, bunny," [F/N] said with a teasing smile, her eyes sparkling as she took in Bonnie’s new look, complete with the bowtie. His ears drooped over his face, flustered by the nickname that, somehow, now sounded different coming from her. A soft, surprised hum escaped him as he straightened up again, his metallic body now feeling a bit warmer from the unexpected affection.
“W-Well, you ready for the greatest song ever?” he said, trying to regain his usual confidence, though his fingers betrayed his excitement as they twitched in anticipation to finally play after so long. [F/N] grinned and nodded, leaning back slightly against the stool, her arms crossing in playful challenge.
“Yeah, big guy. Give me your best shot.” Bonnie’s eyes gleamed with determination. With one last glance at her, he took a deep breath and strummed the bass, sending a deep, resonant note through the air. The sound was rich and soothing, the music vibrating through the room as he settled into the rhythm, his hands dancing over the strings with a skill that made it clear he hadn’t lost his touch, no matter how long it had been since he’d last played. [F/N] watched Bonnie intently as he played, her eyes focused on his every movement. She leaned her face into her closed fist, a small smile tugging at her lips as she rested against the workbench. For once, she felt a sense of peace settle over her. The chaos of the past months, the countless hours spent repairing Bonnie, finding parts for his bass, and ensuring every detail was perfect—it all led to this moment.
It wasn’t just the music she was hearing—it was the culmination of everything she had worked for. Bonnie, whole again, playing the instrument he had lost, reclaiming what had been taken from him. And she had played a part in that. A small, quiet part, but one that mattered more than anything. She closed her eyes for just a moment, letting herself soak in the warmth of the moment. The satisfaction of knowing she had helped him find something lost, of knowing she had given him back a piece of himself, was a feeling unlike any other.
It was perfect.
