Sheltered, Ch. 4

	'Changing the world one mind at a time.'

	The colorful banner swayed above as they entered the abandoned space, streams of dust cascading down as the air pressure rapidly adjusted itself.  Mike could only stare in awe at the sheer size of it; metal catwalks creaking above, cubicles and partitioned office spaces filling out parts of the cavern.

	An enormous spool of wire ran the length of the floor from what he could see in the dimness, terminating somewhere in the distance.  He couldn't rightly see where.  As the group pushed in further they took little time to gawk as he did.

	"Bonnie," the bear rumbled, "Go have a look around.  We need to secure the temple, but I'd stay away from any high spaces.  That's the territory of angels, after all."

	"A-At your direction, of course," Bonnie replied, timidly, "Can Foxy come with?  This place is rather immense."

	"Take Michael.  Foxy has other tasks to attend to."

	"Ah, well sir I don't think he'll be, well, useful if you don't mind my saying so," the rabbit replied, eyes downcast in Michael's direction.

	Freddy chuffed a bit, shooing Bonnie and Mike with a careless wave as he surveyed the "temple," as he called it.

	"Just do as I say, Bonnie.  Oh, and one other thing."

	"Yes, sir?"

	"If any harm comes to the guard," he spoke softly, glaring at the tall bunny, "well, for the sake of justice there will be a reckoning.  It's the will of the new world, you see."

	Bonnie balked for a moment before casting his eyes down, quickly nodding as he moved towards Michael.

	"L-Lets get going then, dear Michael, sir."

	Michael simply walked in step with his new mechanical guardian, his fate hanging on the whims of a questionably sane robot bear.  Who could talk.

-----

	They had traveled the floor for at least an hour, and Michael could only guess at the relative size of the cavern.  Miles, but the question was how many?  At least three judging from the steps he had taken and how tired he felt.  He was never very athletic, but he was fairly good with numbers.  So that was something, at least.

	A small headache had been creeping up on him ever since they first set out from the entrance.  The cavern was fashioned like a factory, of sorts.  Or maybe a laboratory.  Everything he saw seemed to cause a twitch in his brain, like recognition just out of reach.  Something cognitive that refused to fire, all somewhat familiar yet wholly alien.  They traveled past many strange contraptions: salon chairs, cages lined with barbed wire, and several elevators that didn't seem to work.  He could only guess they went skyward, up towards the catwalks that Freddy had banned them from visiting.  Estimating the height to be at least in the hundreds of feet, he felt somewhat grateful.

	They also found books.  Books were everywhere, and in several varieties covering a myriad of topics:  from animal husbandry to aqueducts, from marketing to metallurgy.  Seemingly any subject, all non-fiction, all reference material.  A library protected and preserved, though in seeming disarray.  Broken equipment was strewn amidst the functional and whole, and he couldn't help but feel that something bad had happened here, once upon a time.

	"What is 'Australia,' Michael?"

	The question broke him from his thoughts.  "Sorry, what?  Australia?"

	"Yes," Bonnie confirmed, "Australia.  We've been wandering for some time now and I see mentions of it quite frequently.  Posters and other such marketing materials.  What is it?  Is it another restaurant?"

	Australia.  It sounded very familiar to him, but for some reason he couldn't place it.  Place!  Yes, it was a place of some kind, but he wasn't exactly sure.  Something itched in his skull as he pondered, and he could feel a headache starting to form.

	"I don't really know, but it seems familiar.  It feels like some kind of place, I think.  Soemthing like that."

	The scenario still seemed quite surreal; occasionally Sam would speak to them from above, garbled and distorted.  Something about "bane" and a year that he couldn't quite make out.  Eighty-seven?  Eighty-eight?  It seemed meaningless without the context, but he was glad for the company.  He still wasn't sure if he was actually alive or if this was a bizarre fever dream that he had yet to wake up from.

	"Seems like something a human would've known, but I suppose I'm asking a lot of a one year old.  You're certainly the biggest baby I've ever seen."

	Michael's steps halted, causing his robotic companion to stop as well.  "What are you talking about?"

	"Come now, Michael.  It's 1987, and according to both yourself and the restaurant's detailed records, you were born in 1986."

	The headache was starting to come back.

	"Th-that's right.  What's so weird about that?"

	Bonnie giggled a bit, leaning against a nearby wall in response to his question.

	"Well Mister Guard, while I'm hardly an authority on human beings and their various biological mechanisms, gestation periods, or growth chronologies, I'd say you're an anomaly if you've only been around for a year.  You're an odd duck, that's for certain."

	He had trouble remembering, but he knew that was his birthday.  He was certain of it, and questioning it only seemed to hurt his head even more.

	"I t-told you the truth," he said, gritting his teeth, "April 18th, 1986.  That's it.  Just like on the keypad."

	"Right.  Even though you forgot the zero at the beginning the first time.  Well, I won't question it if our increasingly fearless leader has no issues with your bizarrely accelerated progression.  The others are too dim to notice, anyway."

	Bonnie turned and started walking further into the complex.

	"Come along, lets keep going.  I'd work on that, if I were you.  The thinking, I mean.  It might hurt, but it will do you a world of good."

	Michael grunted as he started to follow.  Had the headache been that obvious?

	"Michael, come along now!  And by the by, what is 'Brisbane'?"

	Much the same as before, he had no answers to give.  Only a vague sense of familiarity and a stinging in his mind.

-----

	Another hour passed before they had managed to circle back to the entrance, and his aching feet were relieved to see the other machines milling around in the area.  At least it meant he wouldn't have to walk any further for a while.  Foxy was the first to notice their arrival.

	"Avast!  What did ye find out there?  Any treasure?"

	Chica's head swiveled into view as she spun in an office chair, beaming for only a moment before the entire frame collapsed with her on top.  She hit the concrete rather unceremoniously, legs flailing in the air as she vainly attempted to right herself.

	"Ack!  Help me up!  The chair tried to kill me!"

	Bonnie strolled past Michael, rolling his eyes.

	"No, Miss Ducky, that would be gravity and metal fatigue.  In these trying times it's nice to have constants, at least."

	"Just shut up and help me!  And knock it off with that pirate stuff, Foxy, there's nobody here that cares anymore!"

	As the machines helped the bird back to her feet, Michael couldn't help but notice the absence of their leader.  It was both comforting and alarming, seeing as the machine was the only thing keeping the others from tearing him to pieces or stuffing him in a sharp and pointy coffin.

	"You all are dismissed for the evening.  Do as you please."

	The bear had arrived as if on queue, approaching from the darkness carrying an assortment of boxes and bags.  Taking no notice of Michael he emptied them out on the floor, sending cans and containers rolling amidst chairs and desk legs.

	"Food for our precious friend.  He has needs, after all.  Go on, Michael, have a look.  A young man like you needs to keep his strength up."

	Corn.  Beans,  Hominy.  All sorts of preserved goods were present, all bearing the bear's grinning face and sporting the Fazbear logo.  All with an expiration year of 1987, though the more specific date was too blurred to read.

	"Aha," the fox laughed, "I see we'll be able to keep this one fat and fed for a tidy time, then?  Wish I could eat.  That'd be grand, really, but alas."

	Freddy kneeled down, staring at Michael and bearing no concern for the human's personal space.

	"It's alright, Foxy.  We all have purpose in the coming days of this grand new world of ours.  For now, I think Michael needs to rest."

	Sam's voice echoed from above once again, announcing that the time was 9 PM.  Partner.

	"See?  I'm never wrong.  Now, lets away to dreamland, Michael.  We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

	Michael balked, and even the other animatronics looked vaguely unsettled.

	"I hate sleeping alone, you see.  Nightmares,"  he said, pointing towards his head, "I'm going to keep you close, that way it's safer for the both of us.  Perhaps I can share the universe with you, if you're especially good."

	"Freddy,"  Chica started, more perturbed than her fellows, "he's a fleshbag.  What are you thinking?"

	The bear grinned as he hoisted Michael up over his shoulder, turning only slightly to address her.  Michael knew better than to resist, despite the strangeness.  Where would he run?

	"I'm thinking, little bird, that you would look absolutely stunning with a fire where your eyes live.  How does that sound?"

	And with that they marched off, Michael's upper body bobbing as the bear walked off, bearing witness to the disgusted faces of the animatronics they left behind.

-----

	It took only a moment to arrive at what appeared to be a utility closet, one oddly reminiscent of a place the bear used to dwell in simpler times.  They opened the door and entered, the cramped nature of the space immediately evident; there wasn't enough room for both of them to stand, and as the bear shut the door he inadvertently bumped his rider's head.

	"Oops.  A thousand pardons, I'm not used to having a companion in my private moments.  Well, slide down a bit so we can get comfortable."

	The strangeness had finally caught up to him, it seemed, and Michael tensed as he wasn't sure what to do.  His breathing hitched, and it was all he could do not to move.  Sensing his discomfort, Freddy moved him down of his own accord gently, embracing him like a child would a stuffed toy.  A very large stuffed toy.

	"There there," the strange machine crooned, rubbing the guard's back in small circles, "Everything will be well again.  You'll see.  The Universe has great plans for you, Mr. Schmidt.  Wonderful plans.  And I'm going to be there to guide you down the right path, every step of the way.  You'll stumble and fall, certainly, but I'll be there to pick you up."

	Michael's breathing returned to a semblance of normal after a moment, his mind relinquishing itself to the machine he had no chance of escaping in such close quarters.

	"And break your fingers if they stray too far."

	His breathing became labored.

	"And snap your legs if you try to run."

	Michael whimpered softly in the dark of the closet, shaking against his captor.

	"And crush your jaw if you refuse to eat."

	Fleshy hands scrabbled at nothing, failing to find any sort of purchase beyond the machine's grip.

	"But that's only if you don't follow directions.  There can be good times, too.  Like what we have right now.  So sleep, little guard, and dream of a better, brighter future."

	Silence fell for a moment as Freddy gently rocked back in forth, softly humming a familiar tune.

	"After all, it's 1987," the bear said, his voice carrying a smile, "and its been one hell of a year."