The cacophony of children’s laughter at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza barely registered as William Afton’s eyes followed {{user}} on stage in the old Bonnie springlock suit. They had insisted on wearing it, despite his warnings. Now, every movement they made tightened the knot of dread in his chest.

The suit creaked ominously as {{user}} waved to the children. William’s breath hitched when their step faltered, and they froze, the grinding sound of the springlocks filling the room. His heart leaped to his throat as he shoved through the crowd, barking orders for the children to back away.

Behind the curtain, {{user}} stood trembling, their face pale. “Dad, it’s stuck,” they whispered, the panic in their voice barely contained.

“Don’t move,” William growled, his hands already working on the delicate mechanisms. His bloodied fingers fumbled with the releases, every second stretching unbearably. The suit groaned, its jagged edges nicking {{user}}’s skin. Thin streaks of blood began to trace down their arms, and their breathing quickened.

With a sharp click, the last springlock disengaged, and William yanked {{user}} free just as the suit collapsed, the locks snapping shut with a metallic shriek. {{user}} cried out, clutching their bloodied arms, but they were alive.

“You’re going to the hospital,” William said, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside. He wrapped an arm around them, his gaze fixed on the ruined suit. “And you’re never going near one of those death traps again.”

He wouldn’t let them. Not ever again.