((A.N.: Alright, so this is a short fanfiction that has been in the works for a couple of days. Short as in it's only four chapters long and barely under 7k words. I wrote it on my iPod in my spare time. It's actually a story based on a scrapped plot from a different FNAF fanfic I'm writing. I was going to make it longer, but decided against it. Now we have this lovely little shortfic. It takes place in an AU where Mike owns the '87 pizzeria and the animatronics are actually nice to the guards at night. It has the adorably odd ship of ChicaXMarionette that I like to call Chicanette. It also has baby Springtrap. I'm sorry if this is the worst thing ever. I just figured why not share it on here? I mean, fanfics are allowed on here and so is FNAF stuff. And before you tell me anyone is being OOC, 1. AU, and 2. think about it, were they EVER given personalities in the game? Alright. Here is my first PUBLISHED fanfiction. Constructive criticism welcome.))
Tiny Gifts, Tinier Lives
"Alright. Deep breaths, big guy." I simulated breathing, rubbing where my temples would be on my mask with shaky hands. Even with the music box running, I was still nervous. And who in their right mind wouldn't be if they were going to talk to the girl of their dreams? "You've got this."
Ever since Chica and I had started talking, I had been developing feelings for her. She knew I was lonely, and came by every night to talk for a while before returning to parts and service, and that made me feel incredibly special. No wonder I had started liking her.
Tonight was the night that I had decided to admit this to her (with some persuasion from my favorite pirate fox friend). We were closing early today, since it was Sunday, so I knew she'd come sooner. However, the more I thought about it, the more anxious I got. I tried to think more about what I was going to say. "Hey, Chica. For a while now, I've had feelings for you." No, too direct. "How would you react if I said I might like you?" Too out of the blue. "Hey, Chica, can I get directions? 'To where?' To your heart." No. Just no.
As I contemplated this, I noticed that the music box was dying down. I peeked at the camera, trying to alert Jeremy and Mike to it so that they could wind it, but it was already being done. I sat back, deciding to use this time to calm my racing motherboard, or whatever would be the animatronic equivalent of a human heart. I closed my eyes, trying to clear my mind, when I heard Chica calling for me. Oh boy. Here we go.
"Marion! There you are!"
"I'm always here, aren't I?" I said, my voice shaky as I tried to joke.
She stopped just short of my box. "Are you alright? You don't sound too good." She rubbed a finger against her chin. "Do you need to get your voice box repaired?"
"N-no... I just have a lot on my mind." I tapped my two pointer fingers against each other as a nervous habit. I simulated a deep breath. This was it. I was finally going to-
"Anyway, I do need to head back to parts and service quicker tonight. Mike's going to be doing some tweaking to try and get me up and running for the kids. However, I figured that I should probably tell you."
My heart sank. I had really wanted to tell her tonight. "...Oh..." was all I could bring myself to say.
"I'm sorry, Mari-" I cracked a chuckle at the cute nickname she had given me- "but I'll make up for it tomorrow night. I promise!"
"Alright. It's fine." It wasn't. My shoulders slumped. As much as I was dreading it, I really had wanted to tell her.
She giggled. "You're so bad at lying Mari," she said. "I’d best be heading back, now. Bye bye, Marion~!"
I watched as she turned to go, and then reached a hand out. "Wait! I have something to tell you," I said.
She turned back around. "Huh?"
"I..." I sighed. I just couldn't do it. "I hope Mike can get you fixed."
She smiled at me. "I hope so too," she said, before heading off.
And the boat had left the dock. I leaned back in my box, mentally kicking myself.
"Wow. You WEAWWY missed that chance, mistew," came a tiny voice from inside of my box.
"I know, right?" I replied, closing my optics.
Suddenly, I felt a tugging on my suit. I looked down at the tiny, yellow-green animatronic rabbit. "Can you get the puwpwe cwayon? It wowwed ovew thewe an' I can't weach it." He pointed towards said crayon. I grabbed it and handed it to him.
"Thank you." He continued coloring his picture.
"No problem." I leaned back again, closing my optics, before they snapped open and I looked back at the tiny rabbit.
I had to stifle a scream, instead going for an expression of surprise. "Who on Earth are you?!" I demanded.
He looked up at me, an expression of boredom in his eyes. "Spwingtwap," he answered before going back to his picture.
"What are you doing in my box?"
"Cowowing." He didn't even look up at me.
"Well, I can see that, but why are you in my box?"
"I dunno. I just fewt wike being in the box, I guess." He sat up, reaching for another one of the crayons which had mysteriously appeared in my box.
We sat in silence, the only noise being the music box playing, before I spoke again. "Did someone bring you here?"
"Yeah. He was puwpwe."
"Purple?" What an odd detail to mention.
"Do you know his name?"
I tapped my chin with a finger. "When did he leave you here?"
The child- he couldn't have been anything but one- paused in his coloring. He looked up at me. "I dunno. He weft me hewe when I was a baby. I haven't seen him since..." His voice was trembling. Oh no. "Is he coming back?"
"I... I don't know. How old are you?"
My optics widened. "And you've been here alone since you were a baby?"
Four years old? Had the pizzeria even been open four years? I mean, there was the one year construction period, and this year we would be celebrating our two-year anniversary, but that was only three. Maybe he was left in the lot the year before it was sold...? Then again, the term "baby" could refer to him being one year old. That would certainly explain how he remembered what the man looked like.
Suddenly, he burst into simulated tears. In the spur of the moment, I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close. "Oh, nonononono, don't cry little one," I soothed, "I'm sure he just doesn't know you're here right now."
"But... but he hasn't come back yet!" The child was incredibly shaken, his body trembling as his eyes opened to the awful reality.
"Aw, it's alright. He might come back for you."
The bunny, Springtrap I think it was, looked up at me with puppy-dog eyes. "Weawwy?"
This vague answer seemed to calm the child. "Thank you mistew," he said before returning to his picture with only a simulated sniffle or two.
However, I had an issue now. What was I supposed to do with this child?
I decided to ask more questions. "How come I've never seen you before?"
"'Cuz I was hiding behind the box."
"Then why didn't I hear you?"
"I can be quiet!" He looked up at me with an annoyed expression.
I held my hands up in defense. "Okay, okay! I get it! You're very good at stealth. But how did you get into the box without me noticing, let alone bring crayons and paper?"
"I can be weawwy sneaky too," he giggled before turning back to his paper. Well, duh. Someone who’s quiet is probably good at being sneaky. That was probably a stupid question to ask.
We sat in silence for a moment, and I began to close my optics so I could process what I had just been told.
"Can I stay with you?"
I looked down at Springtrap in surprise. "What?"
"Weww, it's not wike I have anywhewe ewse to go ow know when the Puwpwe Guy who bwought me hewe is coming back to get me. So why not? I can be youw baby!" He looked up at me, his long ears perking in excitement. Was he seriously suggesting that I should adopt him...?
"We barely know each other, though. How do you know I'm not going to leave you as well?"
"You'we too nice to do that!"
The wording struck me as odd. Not "You seem too nice" or "I believe you're too nice", but "You ARE too nice", As in he already knew I'd never do that. Then again, this kid had somehow been here for four years, or at least three, and he explicitly stated that he was hiding behind my box. Of course he'd have a good idea of my personality if he'd seen me working for two stinking years.
I couldn't adopt him though, could I? The biggest issue was really that I never saw myself as parent material. Sure, I could keep a crowd of kids under control, but I was only interacting with them for a short time, and my shtik had become mimery and overacting. I only spoke when necessary. Then again, that was when authority was needed, and the situation never remained out of control for more than five minutes. So that was the discipline department of parenting out of the way. I also worked with children, and as an animatronic I should know how the younger of my kind worked. I had been one once, after all. Thinking about it, I really was qualified. It was just such a nerve wrecking prospect for someone shy like me.
But even with that out of the way, I'd still have a whole slew of problems to deal with. How would I explain Springtrap to the other animatronics? How would I explain Springtrap to Mike? What would they say about me suddenly taking in a child as my own? What about during the daytime? He couldn't just sit in my box with nothing to do. He was only four years old, after all. What if the Purple Guy DID come back for him? Would he still want to leave? Would I be willing to let him go?
Still... I couldn't just leave him alone like this. He was still practically a baby. He seemed to have taken care of himself for now, but what about if the others found him? He might not be allowed to stay. The Toys would never stand for keeping him here without someone caring for him. He might be stuck with Chica in parts and service. And while I knew Chica would be a wonderful mother, I just couldn't believe that staying in parts and service all day every day would be healthy for a little boy. She'd probably bring him with her to talk to me sometimes, but I couldn't imagine her bringing him every time. That would probably be the only time he got out of parts and service. If he stayed with me, at least he could wander around the whole restaurant, as I had a vantage point where I could see every place in the pizzeria except parts and service. Sure, I'd still step in when necessary, but at least he'd have more freedom that way. Looking down at him again, he seemed so excited about prospect of me adopting him. He was absolutely precious, so pure and innocent. It was hard not to fall in love with him. Maybe this could work out. I still had no idea how I was going to explain him to everyone, but it was worth the awkwardness to make this little one happy.
"Alright," I finally answered.
"Weawwy? You mean it? Honest?"
"Yes, honest. I'll take you in." I looked around. "But you're going to have to keep hidden a little longer."
"I... I'm the only one who knows you're here, so it might come as a shock to the others that you exist, let alone that I'm taking you in. I just need a day to figure out how I'm going to explain it."
He nodded enthusiastically. "Awwight!"
I had protected five little ghost children before. How hard could one baby animatronic be?
((A.N.: Curse my iPod for trying to fix tiny, adorable Baby Springtrap's speech impediment. I'll post the next chapters soon. Hasta la pasta everyone.