Five Night's With Foxy (With Mira-Charma13)

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  1. It's been a week since Mike started his new job, and he's completely shattered. He adamantly plans on quitting when his seventh night ends. As he's approaching the manager to do so, however, he manages to catch a bit of the conversation the manager is having with an unfamiliar man. It's about Foxy, and about Pirate Cove. It turns out that, with the owner's reluctant blessing, the manager is seriously considering removing Pirate Cove entirely and, in turn, scrapping the battered Pirate Fox. Even though the animatronics have been trying to kill him, Mike finds himself feeling suddenly sorry for Foxy. He's been imprisoned in that small space for more than a decade, all by himself, and they're just now going to put him out of his misery? It seems cruel. Before he can stop himself, Mike storms in on the conversation and begs the manager to spare Foxy, at the very least. The two proceed to argue. In the heat of the argument, Mike loudly blares that if Foxy won't be allowed to stay here, then he wants to buy him from the company. He isn't expecting the manager to brighten up and declare that it's a wonderful idea, and he definitely isn't expecting to be told to take him right away and return for his shift that night with the astronomical amount of money it will take to purchase Foxy. It's at this point that Mike realizes that this place must have finally driven him insane. Now he's got a massive animatronic fox who may or may not want to rip him into itty-bitty pieces as a roommate! How's that going to work out?!
    #1 Little Fox, Oct 30, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Mar 3, 2016
  2. Mike walked out of the office in a daze, not really paying much attention to where he was going. Did he actually just agree to buy Foxy for $15,000?! What the hell was he thinking? But that was just it; he hadn't been thinking when he blurted out those words. All that ran through his mind was he couldn't bare to think about them throwing the animatronic away. And that was something else: Why did he suddenly start feeling sorry for Foxy? The pirate has tried to kill him on many occasion! But...he could relate to Foxy in a way. Unwanted, thrown out on his own, broken. And to top it off, since he clearly didn't have that kind of money, the manger had come up with a compromise. If he agreed to work for them as a mechanic as well as a night-guard, the fee for the fox can be over-looked. But that also mean't that Mike couldn't quit like he had planned on doing before this mess had started.

    He let out a soft groan. Now what was he going to do? He obviously couldn't take his words back so now he was stuck with a pirate he had no clue what to do with. Well. guess I have a new roommate. I'm glad I live alone. As he came back to his senses he realized his feet had taken him to the very source of his problem. As he gazed up at the closed curtain hiding the dilapidated pirate, a new thought struck him. how the hell was he going to get Foxy home?! He couldn't very well walk like he normally did and to save his reputation from spiraling towards insanity, he definitely couldn't take the bus. He could only imagine the looks he would receive.

    His prayers were answered in the form of Stuart, a fellow employee at Fazbear's. The man had spied Mike, who looked distressed and came over to check on him. "Hey man, you okay?" Stuart asked in concern, laying a hand upon Mike's right shoulder. Mike forced a smile, eyes trailing back to Pirate Cove. "Well...I..uh...just bought Foxy." Stuart stared at Mike for a few minutes, not really understanding what the other man had just uttered. Upon seeing Stuart's confused expression, Mike elaborated. "I over-heard the manager and the owner talking about doing away with Pirate Cove and Foxy. Well...before I knew what was happening, I had burst through the doors and begged them not to do it. Long story short: we got into an argument and it ended with me being the owner of Foxy here. Problem is, I don't have a clue how I'm going to get him home without a car."

    "I'm glad. Foxy has always been my favorite and I'm happy he's going to a good home. So, I have a car, I'll drive you home. Besides, it's time for my shift to end anyway. Come on, let's get him in the car." Mike stared at Stuart for a few seconds before giving him a grateful smile. They pulled back the curtain hiding Pirate Cove and there he was. Mike gazed at the animatronic, remembering the nights he had hid in the office, listening with hitched breath as Foxy pounded away at the door from outside. He really should be questioning his sanity. What person in their right mind take home the very thing that tried to kill them? Clearly he was messed in the head for even considering this. With a sigh, Mike climbed up onto the stage along with Stuart and they assessed their task. The easiest way of transporting the fox would be for someone to grab his shoulders and the other person to grab his legs. Mike and his friend quickly got into position and lifted Foxy on the count of 'three'. Mike gasped at the weight. For skinny fellow, Foxy was heavy. It did make sense though considering he was made of metal after all.

    Grunting, the two managed to descend from the stage with their burden. A woman coming in kindly held the door open for them and soon they stepped into the sunlight. As Stuart began directing them over to his vehicle, Mike felt relief sweep through him when he noticed the man drove a truck because he didn't know how in the world they were going to fit Foxy in the backseat of a car. After some effort and straining, Foxy was loaded into the bed and Mike climbed gratefully into the passenger seat. Stuart climbed in and off they went, Mike directing the man to his apartment which was only a few blocks away.

    Soon they were pulling up in front of his complex. It wasn't the most fanciest of apartments but it was well-kept and his neighbors were kind elderly folk so Mike wasn't going to complain. Stuart, bless his soul, offered to help carry Foxy up to the third floor where Mike resided. Mike flashed the man a grateful smile and climbed out of the cabin. They heaved Foxy down and began their adventure up the stairs. It was a journey perilous with dangers. Foxy had almost been dropped onto Mike's foot when his grip slipped and another time had almost been sent careening down the stairs because Stuart stumbled. They eventually made it to his apartment unscathed and soon they were carting the pirate inside.

    Mike's apartment wasn't fancy by any means. He had an uncomfortable couch pushed against the far wall with a coffee table resting in front of, a tall lamp stationed by one of the couch arms. An arm chair was seated next to the window and a box T.V. sat upon a stand sat directly adjacent of the couch, next to the door. There was an opening to their right that lead to the small kitchen and directly in front of them was a short hallway leading to a door. That was Mike's bedroom, holding a grand total of one mattress sitting on the floor, a dresser and a closet. There was also a small bathroom next to the closet. It wasn't much but it was home.

    They deposited Foxy onto the couch and Mike bid Stuart a good day before turning to face the still animatronic. A groan escaped him and he scrubbed a hand roughly over his face. What a fine hole he has dug himself. He turned away and headed into the kitchen. Grabbing a clean glass, he filled it with water and chugged it down. He then rummaged through his refrigerator before deciding, ironically, on pizza. One would think him sworn off the food considering what went on at night in a certain pizzeria but pizza was too delicious to give up. Besides, it was cheap to boot. He popped the pizza in the over, set the timer then exited. He refrained from glancing at the fox on his couch and instead bee-lined for his bedroom, collapsing onto the bed.

    He sighed, gazing up at the ceiling. He was so tired he didn't even realize his eyes were slipping closed until he was fast asleep. He was awoken a few hours later by a piercing shriek that rang through out his apartment. Mike jolted up with a cry and scrambled to his feet, stumbling into the hallway. He coughed, an acrid smell filling his nostril and his face paled upon seeing smoke drifting from his kitchen. Ah hell.
  3. "Freddy..."

    "Be quiet."

    "But Freddy--"

    "Be quiet. They'll hear you."

    "Freddy, Jesus Christ." The irritated purple rabbit turned a reproachful gaze on his leader, who wouldn't even grace him with a simple glance. "Just listen to her, would you?" "Bonnie!" The startlingly yellow chicken on the bear's other side chided as quietly as possible, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "You watch your mouth!" "Eh..." Bonnie's towering ears drooped somewhat. "Sorry, Chica." Freddy grumbled, briefly drumming his fingers against the microphone clutched in his hand. "I know what you are going to ask. 'What do we do?' Am I correct in assuming such? The answer is simple. We do nothing."

    "Nothing?!" Several employees within close proximity jumped and peered around, utterly confused. The band on stage remained perfectly still, and silent, until they returned to their duties. "You're just gonna let that...that skinny little monster take Foxy?!" Bonnie demanded, his shoulders squaring with rage. "What else can we do?" the bear murmured, optics shifting to meet Bonnie's glare. "We cannot move. We can do nothing." "But...!" Chica sounded distraught. "What if he doesn't bring him back?" "Oh, he'll bring Foxy back eventually..." Freddy chuckled under his breath. "Foxy is a destructive menace. I sincerely doubt a mere human will be able to handle sharing a small space with him."

    "...Foxy might be able to find his way back on his own," Bonnie amended, though he gritted his teeth with anger. "He can read maps. If he can find a map somewhere..." "Oh, but what if some human catches him out wandering on his own?" Chica fretted, subtly attempting to crane her neck and sneak a peek out of the front doors. "He'll get in trouble!" "I are forgetting how resourceful our resident black sheep can be." Freddy settled back into place, staring determinedly forward. "Don't worry. Foxy will be just fine."

    If Foxy was active, he certainly didn't show it. He didn't even flinch when the curtains that hid his dilapidated Cove from view. During the daytime hours, Foxy holed himself up in the same place he did every day--on a tattered old bean bag chair in the old treasure trove, surrounded by dusty fake treasure chests. In the artificial light provided by the overhead lamps, it became clear that the old pirate was in far worse condition than the poor quality of the nighttime camera system suggested. In addition to his jaw being horrifically broken and the various bare spots in his fur, where the metal of his endoskeleton stood out starkly, there were also several spots where wires were exposed. Though his eyes were dull, a tell-tale sign that he really wasn't active, it was obvious that one eyelid hung down farther than the other--that eye was likely damaged. One of his ears also drooped down more than the other. His tail was in absolute tatters--only a few long strands of crimson fabric remained.

    He was a walking pile of scrap metal. To boot, with those wires exposed, he was also a walking fire hazard!

    The battered fox did not wake, even as he was hauled out of his beloved Cove and, subsequently, out into the parking lot of the pizzeria. He still didn't react when he was placed into the bed of Stuart's truck...but something did clang and bang around when the truck first began moving. Perhaps it was his broken jaw? He stayed silent during the entire trip. His broken jaw did clang around some more as the two humans manhandled him all the way up to the third floor of the apartment complex--no wonder he made so much noise when he sprinted down the hallway at night! The management must have reprogrammed him at some point to remain in a sort of standby mode during the daytime, because he was still out like a burnt-out light bulb by the time Stuart left Mike to his own devices. The other three animatronics were still sentient during the daytime hours...they simply couldn't move. But Foxy was completely out of it!

    The shrill beeping that echoed throughout the cramped apartment was immediately followed by an equally shrill screeching sound, and then a sickening thudding noise. Not long after, ominous crashing sounds exploded through the apartment.

    Foxy was awake. Wide awake. And he was going absolutely nuts!

    The panicking pirate fox stumbled and scrambled his way through the unfamiliar apartment, bouncing off of walls and knocking a multitude of things over in his wake. A coffee maker, a blender, the TV cable box, a snow globe, a family photo, and the only window in the living room were all victims of his hysterical rampage. He seemed truly terrified, as if some horrible invisible monster was right on his tail. The chaotic stampede of the lethal animatronic ended when Foxy nearly took a terrible tumble through the broken window. He instead managed to get himself tangled up in Mike's curtains. With a surprisingly dog-like yelp, the tangled fox fell straight to the ground with another massive boom. Snarling and whining, the pirate struggled to get free from the curtains, slashing at them determinedly with his hook.

    He was in a true state of panic!
  4. Mike was nearly deafened by the amount of crashes echoing through his apartment. He could only stand there in shock as a wild fox rampaged through his living room, destroying everything in his path. The only thing that was spared was his couch, even the coffee table hadn't been spared from Foxy's fall from the couch and subsequent war-path through the room. Mike winced when the window was knocked out and lunged forward suddenly when he thought Foxy was about to tumble through said broken window. It was useless move. Even if the fox did fall out of the window, if Mike grabbed him the man would probably be pulled through as well.

    Thankfully, Foxy evaded a tumble down three stories and ended up getting caught up in the curtain. The entire rod came down with a clank and Mike winced once more as ripping sounds indicated Foxy's bid for freedom from the cloth had began. Mike's brain whirled. What to deal with first: A panicked, killer fox robot or his kitchen possibly being on fire? As Foxy's snarls filled the small space he made his decision. Right, least threatening first. And plus, with Foxy occupied it meant he wasn't coming for Mike's blood.

    He quickly darted into the kitchen and turned the stove off, yanking down the door of the oven. He immediately backed up as smoke billowed out, eyes watering and lungs protesting the action. The cough startled him and when he sucked in a breath he could hear a faint wheezing noise. He held a cloth to his nose and used an over mitt to grab the chard pizza. Into the trash it went and since the window was broken it didn't take long for him to clear all the smoke out. The entire time his coughs continued and his eyes widened when he felt a familiar tightening in his chest that could only mean his asthma was about to act up.

    Knowing panicking would only make it worse, Mike took deep breaths even as it became harder to breathe and hurried to his bedroom where he snatched his inhaler off the nightstand. He shook about three or four times, brought the inhaler up to his mouth and breathed in slowly, compressing the button on top as he did so. He held his breath for about ten seconds before releasing and repeating breathing in the medicine. His chest slowly began to lighten and he tucked the inhaler in his pocket before going to deal with the panicking fox.

    He carefully knelt down next to the writhing fox and spoke over his whines and snarls. "I'm not going to hurt you but you have to be still if you want me to untangle you from the curtain. All your wiggling is just getting you more tangled." He said, raising his hands to show he meant no harm. "Are you going to let me help you or are you going to try and take my eye out with that hook of yours?"
  5. Honestly, it wasn't exactly clear whether or not Foxy even knew that he wasn't alone in this foreign location. The ferocity of his snarling, growling, and whining nearly drowned out the high-pitched squealing of the fire alarm! He rolled around fruitlessly on the floor, bumping first into the wall, and then into the back of the couch...and then he repeated these motions over and over again as he desperately tried to free himself from the curtains that were wound tightly around his body. Some of the fabric seemed to have gotten itself hopelessly snagged in his mechanical joints, ripping and tearing all the while. He struggled fiercely while, unbeknownst to him, the equally panicked human bolted into the kitchen to prevent a fire from taking hold.

    He was still thrashing like a fish out of water (more like a shark out of water with all of those surgically sharp teeth) when the human knelt down beside him. Foxy stiffened at the sound of a somewhat familiar voice, immediately going stock still. His ears pricked upward. Slowly, very slowly, his luminous golden optics zeroed in on the human's face. He recognized the night guard instantly. For a few moments, the pirate didn't move at all. He just stared profusely at Mike's face.

    And then...a familiar darkness seeped into Foxy's bright golden gaze. His eyes kept darkening until there were only tiny pinpricks of light in the middle. Foxy hissed like a furious cobra. Purely on instinct, the infuriated and terrified animatronic swung his razor-sharp hook at the night guard. When that sailed right over his head, he attempted to lunge forward and sink his massive shark-like teeth into Mike's face...but he was far too wrapped up in the curtains to reach him. He kept trying, though, snapping his teeth like an angry crocodile. His hook went back to tearing desperately at the curtains, this time ripping through the fabric with a great deal of urgency.

    He would not accept help from an adult! Let alone a night guard!


    The horrifically garbled voice that ripped from the badly neglected animatronic's voice box sounded just as ghastly as he looked. He managed to get his other arm free right after he spoke. With both arms free, Foxy began shredding the tangled drapes at lightning speed, now completely honed in on the troublesome night guard. He was under the impression that the night guard must have kidnapped him and brought him to this strange and unfamiliar place. And now he was going to pay dearly for it!
  6. Mike thought Foxy didn't hear him at first until he noticed the fox go as still as death. He couldn't help but flinch away slightly when the animatronic slowly turned his head and looked up at the security guard. He watched as bright golden eyes darkened until nothing but a pin-prick of light remained. Uh Oh. Mike knew that expression. The fox wore it every time he visited the office. It was a look of feral rage and it sent a shiver down Mike's spine. Seems like Foxy recognized him now. Not good. A hiss was his only warning as a lethal hook came sailing at his face. Mike barely managed to duck, the weapon swinging safely over his head. The man quickly backed away from the enraged fox. A good thing too because Foxy then attempted to sink his razor sharp teeth into Mike's face. Mike watched as Foxy snapped his teeth angrily then in growing fear as that hook went back to tearing at his poor curtain with greater speed.

    He winced at the noise Foxy produced from his mangled mouth and felt terror skitter down his spine as the pirate managed to free his other arm and began tearing at the cloth more successfully. As that wild gaze locked back on him, Mike knew his time to live was counting down. He glanced around frantically, eyes darting around the room in search of something, anything that would keep him alive. As his eyes alighted on his red blanket trapped under the coffee, an idea entered his head. It was a crazy idea, insane but seeing as he wouldn't live to see the light of day regardless once Foxy freed himself, Mike knew he had to give it a shot.

    With a move that portrayed more grace than he really had, Mike leaped over the overturned table and seized the red blanket, yanking it out from beneath the piece of furniture. It took him a few tugs and sweat ran down his neck at the thought that Foxy could spring any minute now. Relief swept through him when the blanket pulled free and he whirled to assess Foxy's progress, almost tripping over his own feet in the process. Eyes now locked with that golden gaze, Mike held the blanket out before him defensively and began backing towards his bedroom. Seeing as the room was a complete mess, Mike had to feel his way carefully so he wouldn't trip on something.
  7. Mike could count his lucky stars on this day that the resident mechanic at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria was such a lazy bastard. Foxy's joints were so poorly maintained that he had quite a bit of trouble twisting around. He wasn't at all flexible in this state of disrepair, in any sense of the word! Unable to maneuver properly in this position, the old pirate was reduced to simply tearing at the curtains with all his might. He was neck-and-neck with Mike in terms of speed. Just as the human managed to free his trapped blanket from underneath the coffee table, Foxy managed to get one of his legs free. A few more moments, and a few more violent lurches on the ground, and the decrepit red animatronic was freed from the curtains' grasp. He scrambled to his feet at once...but he didn't immediately spring.

    Slowly, almost methodically, Foxy began to pace, his unblinking feral gaze fixed on the face of the retreating night guard. He rolled his shoulders, where a bit of curtain was still stuck, with obvious irritation. He paced like this, clearly threatening the human without words, for several agonizing minutes. He very much resembled a shark stalking his cornered prey. Teasing. Taunting. Silently formulating a plan of attack. At one point, he dragged the sharpened tip of his hook along the wall, unleashing an awful sound in the process. Oh, he wanted a piece of that night guard. He wanted him something fierce. But the presence of the red blanket made him think it over first. Was the human concealing some sort of weapon behind it? Was it worth it to attack him blindly? This was the night guard's turf. He was at a disadvantage. Foxy continued to pace for quite some time, weighing his options carefully.

    When he stopped, he did so abruptly. The aging pirate rapidly turned on his heel, scraped a metal foot against the floor like an enraged bull, and charged at Mike at full throttle. With his arms outstretched, mouth wide open, and a bloodcurdling shriek escaping him, he was truly a sight to behold. And he moved so quickly, too! Not even an Olympic sprinter could outrun him!

    But all that speed was for nothing. When he tried to snap his powerful arms shut around the night guard's frame, hidden behind the red blanket, he was met with nothing but air. His screaming cut off into a startled barking sound as he tumbled headfirst into a different room. He hit the floor first, and he hit it hard. He tumbled three different times, hitting the floor first and the bed second, and then finally smashing into the wall with his back on the mattress and his feet propped up against the wall. Foxy groaned, thoroughly winded from the unexpected collision. He didn't even try to get to his feet for a few moments, still reeling from the impact, and when he did make an attempt, it was feeble at best--he flopped around on the mattress like a dying fish. His eyes were flashing like strobe lights--he did hit his head pretty hard on the floor.
  8. Mike felt his whole body tense when Foxy was finally free of Mike's shredded curtain and stood to his feet. Mike kept his eyes locked on the fox, mildly surprised when the pirate didn't immediately spring. Was he waiting for something? Mike to trip over to countless items strewn over his living room possibly? As Foxy began to pace around the room, Mike was truly beginning to feel like prey as Foxy's gaze never wavered from his own. This felt much like those animal documentaries Mike had seen one day on t.v. where the lion was stalking it's prey. An awful sound suddenly rang through his apartment and Mike almost slapped his hands over his ears. He took in Foxy's hook as it ran across his wall. He scowled at Foxy, fear momentarily covered by irritation.

    "First my living room and now my wall, is nothing sacred?" He exclaimed in exasperation, resisting the urge to throw his hands in the air. He will never be able to repair all this damage courtesy to the fox pirate. His ire quickly fled with its tail tucked between its legs as Foxy suddenly stopped his pacing, eyes boring into Mike. Uh Oh. As Foxy scrapped a foot against the ground Mike tensed, body prepared as Foxy leaped at him with a blood-curdling screech. Mike forced his body to stand still, going against his instincts which were screaming at him to run. At the last second, he dived out of the way and Foxy barreled into his room. As Mike stood on shaky legs, he spied Foxy sprawled out across his bed in a daze.

    Blink. He gaped, mind struggling to accept this as plausible. It worked, it had actually worked! He will admit, he did a little happy dance he was glad no one was around to see. Knowing his precious seconds were counting down, Mike sprinted over to his closet and snatched his work uniform out of his closet. He the grabbed everything he would need and raced back over to his door. "I'll see you when I get home from work Foxy!" With that, he locked the door and slammed it shut. It seemed a little redundant to lock the door when Foxy was inside the room but Mike hoped that the strangeness of a new environment would keep the pirate from leaving the room. He also hoped Foxy didn't know to work a door in the first place.

    Mike sighed, running a hand through his hair as he cataloged the carnage that was his home. A moan of despair escaped him and he hung his uniform on the door knob of his bedroom. He had some time before work and decided to clean up as best he could. He started in the kitchen first, where there was the least amount of damage. His poor coffee maker and blender were toast though he as relieved the microwave survived at least. He grabbed a trash bag and swept the broken remains into the bag and carefully swept the glass. He then moved to the living room where he looked around, at a lose as to where to even start.

    He started in one corner and slowly began making his way around the room. He duct taped a garbage bag over the broken window, not knowing where he was going to get the money to replace it. Though the room was relatively small, Foxy had caused an obscene amount of damage that by the time Mike needed to go to work, he had only gotten half of the room done. He sighed as he got changed and exited his apartment. As he was locking his front door, the door next to him creaked open and Mrs. Curry's wrinkled face peeked out. "Mike dear, is everything alright? What was that noise?" Mike gave the elderly woman a weak smile. She was so sweet and caring. When he had first moved in she would come over every day with leftovers from dinner, stating she had "accidentally made too much". Mike knew better but he was so moved by the gesture that he didn't put up a fuss. But how the hell was he going to explain the killer animatronic in his bedroom without sounding crazy?

    "O-Oh, I had put a pizza on and accidentally fell asleep. Well, the alarm went off and it scared the new cat I got so it was running around the apartment. To top it off, when I opened the window to clear out the smoke, a bird flew in so then the cat was chasing the bird around the room and knocking things over. I managed to get the bird out and my cat in the bedroom. I still have one heck of a mess to clean up though."

    "But, Mike dear, didn't you tell me you're allergic to cats?"

    Mike felt the smile freeze on his face. "D-Did I say that? O-Oh, I had meant dogs! I'm allergic to dogs! Well, anyway, Mrs. Curry. I really have to get to work. You have a nice day." With that, Mike turned and fled down the stairs. That was a disaster! He reached ground floor and sighed, glancing up at his apartment window before sighing and heading down the street towards Fazbear's. Once there, he clocked in and looked around. It was after closing time and the only person there was the manager who came waddling over. "Mike m'boy! Listen, I know you have some time before your shift starts so could you take a look at the three on the stage? I don't expect you to fix any of them today but at least look at them so you'll know what you're dealing with. Anyway, it's time I head home. Enjoy your shift!" Before Mike had a chance to get a word in, the manager was heading towards the front door. Mike sighed and turned towards the animatronics on the stage. He knew they couldn't move before midnight but he really didn't want to go anywhere near them. But he couldn't exactly tell the manager that Freddy, Chica, and Bonnie tried to kill him every night!

    With a sigh, he decided to get it over with and headed over to the stage. He climbed up and glanced at them. Chica scared him the least so he started with her. As he looked her over, he decided he might as well clear the air because he was fairly they knew he took Foxy somewhere. His gut told him to appeal to Chica so he looked up into her eyes and spoke softly. "Look, I don't know if you can hear me but I want you to know that I didn't hurt Foxy. The manager was going to scrap him so the only other option was to take him to a safer place." He sighed, feeling foolish standing there talking to three immobile robots. He sighed and finished looking over the other two in silence. He glanced at his watch and figured he might as well head towards the security office.

    He set his inhaler on top of the desk in case he needed it and sat down in his chair, pulling the monitors up. He watched, whole body tense as the second hand ticked around the clock before it finally struck midnight. Well, let's get this over with.
  9. Though Foxy wanted nothing more than to pounce on the night guard hurriedly bustling about the bedroom, his damaged body simply would not cooperate with him. He snapped his teeth and waved his hook in a futile attempt to catch the passing human. It was only when the night guard disappeared through the door and slammed it shut behind him with an audible click that Foxy managed to right himself. Digging his hook into the wall, the sorely neglected fox forced himself to his shaky feet. Panicking in the slight darkness, seeing as there was no window in the bedroom, the dizzy pirate tripped and stumbled his way to the door, which provided the only source of viable light in the room thanks to the cracks. He fumbled with the handle, as he was used to seeing humans doing in the restaurant. But it wouldn't budge.


    A string of violent, but pained, curses that no machine meant to work with children had any business knowing erupted from Foxy's mouth. He jiggled the handle desperately. When, of course, that didn't work, he turned on the door itself, ramming it with his shoulder. At full strength, the door would have been a poor excuse of a match for him. But something jarred within his already-damaged endoskeleton when he took that tumble, and now he was shaky and unsteady on his own feet. The door was a formidable opponent in this state. Far too much for the old pirate to handle. And, to boot, he couldn't even see correctly. Everything was a horrible blur, and the room was spinning.

    He was incredibly thankful, at this moment in time, that he wasn't a human. If he was, he would almost certainly be puking his guts out all over the floor thanks to this horrific vertigo!

    He spent a grand total of thirty minutes trying to force the door open. He tried everything from headbutting the wooden door to seriously trying to pick the lock with the sharp tip of his hook. After twenty-five minutes passed, his struggling seemed to quiet down some. When he at last hit the thirty minute mark, the sounds echoing from the bedroom suggested that Foxy must have left the door for good. Some more crashing sounds came from the bedroom, but this time around they didn't sound intentional. They were joined by the occasional rough swear or dog-like yelp. Foxy was stumbling around in the dark. Ordinarily, he could see perfectly well in the darkness...but something was wrong with his vision, and now he couldn't see an inch in front of him!

    Eventually, nothing but silence came from the bedroom. Unbeknownst to the night guard, of course, Foxy had found himself a temporary safe haven holed up in the back of his tiny closet. He kept himself all huddled up in the corner, his face buried in his arms. Keeping his eyes shut tight was the only way to keep the room from spinning wildly around him. He was exhausted from his rampage, his aging inner workings pushed to their very limits. Thankfully enough for the night guard, he was far too haggard to think about destroying his apartment further.

    The manager didn't seem to notice that anything was off about the animatronics when Mike suddenly arrived. But anyone who knew better might have noticed that all three pairs of eyes slowly panned across the main dining hall until they zeroed in on the unwelcome nighttime visitor. The manager nearly made a fatal mistake, for Mike anyway, by deciding to leave right away. The second he was out the door, Bonnie rolled his shoulders aggressively and tried to move. It was level-headed Freddy that stopped him in his tracks, absently hooking their arms together. The camera system was rigged to protect the company, and the animatronics--from six o' five in the morning until midnight, the cameras recorded everything that went on in the pizzeria. Once that clock struck twelve, they stopped recording to tapes. Whatever happened during the nighttime was for the night guard's eyes only.

    If they moved from their spots right now, before the clock struck midnight, they would be in a lot of trouble.

    Mike was wise to approach Chica first. She was the calmest of the three animatronics. Even though Freddy was the one who stopped Bonnie from making a move, it seemed like he was angry, as well. The two boys fixed Mike with death glares as he gave Chica a once-over. The chicken perked a little when the human addressed her, absently fluffing the artificial feathers on her arms to show him that she definitely heard him. Unfortunately, both Bonnie and Freddy were too distracted, and too infuriated, to catch those soft words. In fact, when Mike finally reached Bonnie, the rabbit's eyes instantly went dark and his huge ears pulled back like an angry cat's.

    He was out for blood.

    The second the clock struck midnight, Bonnie careened off of the stage like a cheetah sprinting after prey. Freddy followed after him, though he didn't move quite as quickly. Chica squawked with panic, also instantly abandoning her post. "Night guard!" she shrieked, sounding panicked. Bonnie normally didn't move this quickly--his thudding footsteps seemed even louder as he thundered down the hallway. "Close the doors if you want to live! Close them now!"
  10. Mike had had the monitor trained on the stage the minute the clock struck twelve. Most nights, the band didn't move right away so Mike was completely caught off guard when Bonnie went shooting off the stage like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels, Freddy quickly following behind him. Mike nearly fell out of the chair in surprise, hearing Chica's voice scream through out the building. The words registered in his ears and Mike leaped to his feet, almost tripping in the process. Many nights of going through this same routine with Foxy had Mike bolting to the door leading to the hall Bonnie and Freddy were racing down and slamming down on the button to lock the door.

    Only, instead of sliding shut like it normal does all Mike was greeted with was a beeping sound as the door stubbornly remained open. Ice spread throughout Mike's body as the managers words floated to the forefront of Mike's mind. "The doors are finicky. Sometimes they work and sometimes they don't. But don't worry. All you have to do is head on over to the utility closet just off the stage and re-set the breaker. Should fix them doors right up!" God damn it. Why did this have to happen now of all times?! Panic rushed through Mike's body and he didn't think as he whirled and sprinted through the other door and down the hall, bursting into the main room.

    He wasn't really watching where he was going and so he was caught off guard when jarring pain laced through his knee as he ran blindly into one of the benches. The leg buckled underneath him and he hit the floor. He gritted his teeth, pushing himself to his feet and limping away. He honestly didn't realize where he was going until he stepped inside the dark kitchen and froze. It wasn't the type of darkness that your eyes adjust to, no, this was the pitch blackness that haunted Mike's worst nightmares. Memories rose up from the dark recesses of his mind, memories of him hiding in his dark closet as his father drunkenly pounded away at the door to his bedroom, yelling insults and threats. A mangled whimper escaped as he felt a familiar tightening his chest. It was so much more worse than his attack earlier however because panic was beating a staccato rhythm in his chest, enabling him from calming down and getting his breathing under control. Mike stumbled forward blindly and gasped as he tripped over something, arms flailing as he went down. It made a clanging sound so assumingly it was a pan of some sort. Mike grasped at anything to halt his fall and felt something slice through the skin of his palm before he hit the ground harshly, breath gasping out. He felt something wet and sticky drip down his hand but the pain of that was over-ridden by the pain in his chest.

    He lay curled on his side in the fetal position, trying to suck air back into his lungs. He wheezed, hand clenching desperately at the front of his shirt over his chest. The other hand fumbled through his pockets looking for his inhaler. It was then that he remembered with horror that he had left it on the desk in the office and hadn't thought to grab it in his panicked flight from the room. He squeezed his eyes shut, chest rising and falling rapidly as breath wheezed from his throat. He didn't want to die like this! Not trapped in a diner being chased by psychopathic animatronics trying to stuff him in a suit!
  11. "He's not fucking here!"

    The sounds that ripped out of Bonnie's voice box were animalistic and riddled with static. It didn't even sound like his voice, low and terrifying. Some crashing sounds exploded out of the office, but they were stopped short. "Stop." Freddy's voice was deceptively calm and soothing. "What good will that do?" The hulking rabbit screeched in protest. Now the obvious sounds of a scuffle erupted from the cramped room. "Freddy, I swear to god...!" he snarled, stomping his heavy feet on the ground. "Get your hands off of me, or I'll rip your fucking head off!" The bear heaved a great sigh. "Bonnie, please. You need to stop. Calm down. Deep breaths."

    A full minute passed before the sounds of Bonnie's struggling died down. "...Let me go," he demanded, his voice low and rather sullen. Freddy must have obliged, because more booming footsteps indicated that Bonnie was leaving the office. "Check the left side of the building," the bear murmured, blocking his colleague's progress down the hallway. "I will check the right side." Thankfully, Bonnie wasn't in the mood to waste time squaring off with Freddy. He had tunnel vision, and all he could see at the end of it was that disgusting excuse for a human being squished into the size of a shoe box and being repeatedly stomped on by a heavy metal foot. He stomped off toward the other side of the building, leaving Freddy to thoroughly scour the right side of the deserted restaurant.

    Footsteps thudded throughout the building. Eventually, of course, some of those footsteps clunked their way to the kitchen. The double doors squeaked as they swung open, but in the darkness, it was almost impossible for anyone to see what was going on. The owner of the loud footsteps wound their way around the hefty kitchen island...and then the footsteps stopped, mere inches away from the downed human. Some frightening creaking and cracking sounds rang out--the unknown animatronic was kneeling down as best it could.

    "Night guard?" The distinct feminine lilting that was Chica's voice broke the silence. "What happened? Why didn't you close the--oh!" She drew back, her luminous pink optics--the only source of light in the room at the moment--refocusing. "You're leaking! Oh no!" Fast as lightning, the yellow animatronic jumped to her feet. She tottered to the other side of the kitchen and, judging by the sounds, began rummaging through the cabinets. "They're here somewhere...come on, Chi, get it together!!" She made her way back over to the downed adult and reached out, snagging him by the wrist. "Hold still!" In a surprisingly gentle manner for a typically murderous animatronic chicken, she began winding a soft, clean green dishcloth around the wound. "Just hold it tight for now, okay?" she ordered, shuffling backward a bit. "It's not too serious. It should be okay."
  12. Mike dimly heard the sound of an enraged shriek coupled with the destructive sound of things breaking in the direction of the office. Bonnie and Freddy must have discovered him not to be in the office anymore and were now tearing it apart in their anger. He hoped his inhaler survived and they didn't break it out of spite; it was the only one he had at the moment and it would take about a week or two before a new one could be sent to him. As he lay there he could hear the sounds quiet down and guessed they had calmed down. But that mean't they would be looking for him now. Fear shot through him and he tried to struggle to his feet. However, as he lay there wiggling like an animal caught in a net, he heard the tell-tale sound of the kitchen door squeaking open. Mike froze and lay perfectly still, ears straining as the footsteps clanked around the kitchen.

    He tensed when he heard creaking right next to his ear and flinched back, eyes frantically trying to make out who it was but couldn't in the prevailing darkness. He felt relief shoot through him when he heard a feminine voice speak out, asking him what had happened. Chica. It was Chica. Seeing as she had warned him earlier about Bonnie's stampede down the hallway, Mike hoped she wasn't in here to kill him. He gazed up at her pink eyes, the only thing he was able to see in the darkness. She seemed to then discover his wound then he heard her moving away, rummaging sounds, before she returned back to his side and took his injured hand in her own. Something soft was wrapped gently around the wound, a dish towel probably.

    Mike blinked, surprised at her action. He still couldn't understand why she was helping him in the first place but if it gave him an ally against Bonnie and Freddy, he wasn't going to complain. There was still the problem of his breathing. Maybe Chica could help. He weakly reached out, fingertips encountering the soft feathers on her hand. He sucked in a feeble breath and managed to breath out two words.


    The words were so soft spoken Mike was worried the robot wouldn't here them but the kitchen was deathly quiet so hopefully his plea was heard. He would have gone to get the inhaler himself but he didn't think he would be able to stand at the moment given out weak and heavy his limbs felt. Chica was his only hope.
  13. Though she seemed to have no problem at all reaching out and touching Mike herself, the instant the night guard reached out and touched her of his own volition, Chica jerked backward, her startlingly pink eyes nearly doubling in size. She didn't look angry. Quite the contrary, in fact. No, that was most definitely raw fear in those shining optics of hers. For a few tension-riddled moments, the yellow animatronic said nothing, and she warily kept her distance. When she finally did move, it was to carefully get back to her feet. Unlike the swift pirate fox, the members of the band were all extremely heavy and bulky, and it could take them a while to get up when they went down.

    "Inhaler?" she echoed, squinting suspiciously at the vulnerable human. "What do you need an inhaler for? You're not a can't" She blinked owlishly. "...Uh-oh. Can adults have asthma attacks, too...? ...Oh no!" She jumped in place. "That means you can't breathe! I'm so sorry! I didn't know! I..." She turned on her heel, making a run for the door. "I'll go get it! Keep quiet!"

    Just like that, Chica disappeared through the swinging doors. She was gone for a grand total of a minute and a half. Her loud footsteps clunked throughout the right hall...but she was stopped halfway there by an angry Freddy. They argued fiercely for a few intense seconds before Chica pushed her way past him. More footsteps, this time growing louder with each step, raced back toward the kitchen. Chica burst her way through the door. She didn't bother wasting precious seconds kneeling down this time. Instead, she dropped the inhaler right into the human's hand. "Hurry up, hurry up!" She encouraged, head swiveling to peer over her shoulder. "Use it! Before--"


    The distinctive ocean blue eyes that belonged to Freddy Fazbear appeared in the doorway. The towering brown animatronic held the heavy door to the side with one powerful arm, staring profusely at the scene unfolding before him. Despite being around half a foot shorter than Freddy, Chica squared her shoulders and stood her ground, shuffling to stand protectively over the downed human. Freddy snuck a glance over his own shoulder, probably watching out for Bonnie, before stepping into the kitchen, allowing the door to clatter shut behind him. "Move." Though he clearly wasn't as explosively angry as Bonnie, Freddy was still furious--his eyes seemed much darker than usual. Chica defiantly stood her ground, clenching her hands into fists.

    "Freddy..." She moved strategically whenever the bear did. For now, she could keep him at bay...but if Bonnie burst in here, she had no chance against both of them. "We can't. And you know it." Freddy gnashed his teeth together--the calming ocean blue faded completely from his gaze. "He is holding Foxy hostage." "Precisely." Chica's own voice dripped with venom now. "Which means he's the only one who knows where Foxy is. We can't kill him. And you know it. So cool it!"

    Freddy backed off, though he looked no less threatening--now he was cracking the mechanical joints in his hands.
  14. When Chica jerked back at his touch, Mike was confused to see fear in her eyes. Was...Was she afraid of him?! Should't it be the other way around? Mike couldn't even bear to kill a spider never mind a robot, no matter if that robot was bent on murdering him. Not only would he lose his job for destruction of property, there was something...human about these animatronics. It didn't feel like this entire problem was due to faulty programming. They spoke with feeling, emotions and generally acted human. He didn't know their story or how they even came to be like this but he couldn't lift a hand against them, not even when they are trying to rip him limb from limb. And exactly why they try to do that is beyond him. He had over-heard the manager on the phone when Mike had been first hired. The man had seemed to excited to have a new night guard because no one could seem to keep the position. This lead Mike to believe that the animatronics were only attacking the night guards. This confused him greatly. He has never done anything to them before so why harbor such animosity towards him?

    He was brought back to reality when Chica seemed to realize what he was getting at and jumped to her feet, racing out of the kitchen towards the office. Mike felt a trickle of relief. He was going to live. At least, he hoped she would be able to get his inhaler and that it hadn't been destroyed by Freddy or Bonnie. Mike lay as still and as quiet as he could, the minute and a half Chica was gone feeling like an eternity. When heard her footsteps returning before she subsequently burst through the kitchen, he had never felt so happy to have his inhaler in his hand than he did in that moment and vowed to never go anywhere without it. He missed Chica and Freddy's mexican stand-off, too busy shoving the inhaler into his mouth and taking the necessary steps to ease his attack.

    As the tightness from his chest faded away, Mike caught the last of the animatronics conversation. He frowned but wasn't surprised. He needed to set things straight here before Bonnie burst through those doors and tied balloon animals with his intestines. Using the counter next to him for support, Mike managed to haul himself up to his feet, swaying as the blood rushed from his head. His inhaler was clenched tightly in his other hand as if he was scared they would take it from him. "I'm not keeping Foxy hostage." The man rasped, throat feeling tender. Exhaustion crashed over him and he swayed again. He really wish these didn't tire him out as much as they did, especially if he still needed to run for his life.

    "I didn't want to take Foxy away from you guys, I really didn't. But the manager and the owner were talking about doing away with Foxy and I couldn't let that happen. So I..purchased him. It was the only way. I don't have him tied up anywhere nor am I playing to do anything to hurt him. If it makes you feel better, he's utterly destroyed my living room and kitchen and probably my bedroom by now." Mike said in the direction he heard Chica and Freddy's voices coming from, feeling proud he managed to say all that and not sound like a chain-smoker.
  15. Though neither animatronic looked at Mike, they were both completely silent, so they must have been listening to him. Chica stiffened when Mike revealed that the management wanted to scrap Foxy. Freddy's eyes narrowed into dark minuscule slits. If there was one thing he hated more than night guards, it was anyone who tried to harm his beloved family. "But why?" Chica demanded, toying with her large fingers anxiously. "Why would they decide to scrap him after all this time? He's been sitting there for more than ten years!" Freddy shifted his weight from one leg to the other, the darkness slowly beginning to seep out of his gaze. "...Why did you want to save him, night guard?" he ventured, sounding genuinely curious.

    "Yeah, I wanna know the answer to that one, too."

    Chica nearly jumped out of her suit. "Bonnie!" she exclaimed, leaning heavily on the kitchen island. "You scared me half to death!" Just as tall as Freddy, perhaps even the slightest bit taller, the massive purple bunny's vibrant magenta optics flashed from behind Freddy's shoulders. Freddy chuckled throatily, mirth flashing in his eyes. "Did he really?" He clicked his tongue, throwing a glance over his shoulder at the sneaky rabbit. "Seems you've taken a page out of my book, Bonnie. Concealing yourself within darkness and such." Bonnie rolled his shoulders, twitching an ear. "Hey. If it works, then it works. Never said it didn't work. Creeping around in the dark's just not my usual style, you know?"

    "You're, um..." Chica shuffled so that she was situated strategically between the night guard and the other two members of her family. "You're not mad anymore?" "Oh, no, I'm still angry." For a few brief moments, Bonnie's eyes darkened before regaining their original hue once more. "Believe that. But now I kinda wanna stomp the manager's head into the pavement instead of the night guard's." "We can't do that!" Chica protested, sounding repulsed at the very thought. "That would be unwise," Freddy agreed. Bonnie pouted like a toddler denied sweets. "You two are such party poopers, you know that?"

    The three of them shared a knowing glance before bursting into soft laughter. "What did you think would happen?" Freddy inquired in his laid-back Southern drawl. "He would suddenly become docile in a strange and unfamiliar environment and behave in a friendly manner toward a creature he despises above all else?" "Yeah." Bonnie grinned. "Smooth move, small fry. Real smart of ya."

    "But you can't keep him," Chica huffed, placing her hands on her hips. "He doesn't belong with you. He belongs here, with us." "Yeah. I mean, we're happy that you saved his hide and all..." Bonnie scowled deeply. "But a human house is no place for one of us."
  16. When Bonnie made an appearance, Mike felt ice skitter down his spine and he stiffened, prepared to flee. He knew the bunny was far more agile and faster than the human but Mike hoped to have the element of surprise on his side. He saw Chica's pink optics shift and he realized that she had placed herself between the night guard and the other two animatronics. It was a nice gesture and all but Mike knew if both Bonnie and Freddy rushed them, Chica didn't have a chance against them both. It was nice to know that they wouldn't hurt her; Mike couldn't bare the thought of her getting hurt simply because she tried to protect him. However, when Bonnie revealed that he didn't seem to be about to attack, Mike relaxed slightly though he remained on guard just in case. Seeing as the animatronics wanted answers more than his blood at the moment, Mike took a deep breath.

    "I saved him because...I know what it feels like to be unwanted by a father figure for a mistake you may or may not have committed." Mike answered but didn't go into anymore detail about it as he continued with his line of answers. He hoped they wouldn't press the matter and he definitely hoped they hadn't seen him flinch as that answer brought some bad memories to the surface. He mentally shook himself, knowing he was probably going to have nightmares tonight as all those old memories became unburied. "And don't you think I know he doesn't belong there with me but what else can I do? It was a split-second decision and the manager didn't put up an argument against it. I want him to be here as much as you but I can't exactly bring him back without the manager taking back this deal."

    Mike sighed and leaned against the counter, mind whirling. "Look, in order to pay off the money for Foxy, I've been hired to work as a mechanic as well. The restaurant will pay for any parts I order, so...what if I convince the manager to give Foxy a second chance if I fix him up? It might not work, but it's the only thing I can think of at the moment."

    Mike glanced down at his watch, the clock face providing a very weak illumination of his face as he checked the time. "It will be six soon, you might want to return back to the stage." With that Mike inched his way towards the door, still wary of Bonnie and Freddy. He pulled the door open with a little grunt, weak limbs having trouble. As light flooded the kitchen, it showed just how tired he looked after his asthma attack as well as his bleeding knee from where he had banged it against the bench earlier. The man limped out and headed towards the office. When he saw the damage done he groaned. He needed to get it cleaned up before the manager arrived. Luckily, the desk and his chair were the only things tipped over. The monitor had miraculously survived thankfully; he was in enough dept as it was.

    He gripped the edges of the desk and struggled to lift it. With his short and skinny frame, he had very little muscles. Coupled with the fact that he has always had a weak body and he didn't eat as much as he probably should due to his sufficient lack of funds left Mike with trouble as he tried to lift the surprisingly heavy metal desk back into place. Did Bonnie have to knock it over?!
  17. All three animatronics stared profusely at the night guard when that first admission left his mouth. And then...Bonnie began to sputter, and a stream of delighted snickers escaped him. "You really think that fat bastard is a father figure to us?" He could barely keep the raucous laughter out of his voice. Ignoring the vehement "Bonnie!" he received in return for his swearing, the rabbit continued, glee dancing on his every word. "That's a laugh! No, seriously..." A loud clanging sound and an irritated grunt from the big bear in front of him suggested that he just clapped his heavy metal paw on Freddy's back. "We're orphans, you skinny little moron. Always have been. A bunch of little misfits. We look after ourselves. We don't need some stupid father figure to watch over us."

    "Mm...but he is in a management position," Freddy amended, sourly rubbing his back. "That technically gives him some degree of power over us." "And he never did like Foxy," Chica added, a hint of distaste in her ordinarily bubbly voice. "Not after--" The yellow animatronic abruptly stopped talking, meeting Freddy's eyes. They were narrowed into tiny slits. She made an odd sound, as if she was clearing her nonexistent throat. "...Well...he just doesn't like Foxy." Bonnie folded his thick arms across his chest. "That pretentious land whale's been looking for an excuse to leave Foxy in a ditch somewhere for years. But the owner wouldn't let him do it. I wonder what changed his mind..."

    Chica stared down at Mike when he kept on talking. Even though she was the shortest animatronic present, she was still much taller than he was. "...Will he really scrap him if you bring him back?" She sounded awfully worried. But Freddy simply laughed again, in that familiar creepy tone. "How daft you are, night guard. There is a simple solution here." "Yeah, dumbass." Once again ignoring Chica's indignation over his cursing, Bonnie leaned over Freddy's shoulder, his ears bouncing expressively. "Just bring him here at night and take him home with you in the morning. Simple as that!"

    The news that the night guard was now their mechanic immediately invoked outrage from both of the boys. Bonnie made a disgusted sound, lips curling up snobbishly. Freddy's eyes darkened ever so slightly. "I would advise against touching me," the bear warned, shuffling his feet against the tiled floor underfoot. "If you want to keep your head on your shoulders, that is." "Yeah, don't touch me unless you want me to jump rope with your intestines," Bonnie chimed in, completely serious. Chica seemed nervous...but at least she didn't make too much of a fuss.

    Freddy and Bonnie both stepped aside for the night guard, though the former seemed reluctant to do so. Apparently, Freddy still considered Mike to be a direct threat to his family...but he wouldn't attack him. Not now, anyway. Not while Foxy was still nowhere to be found. Chica rejoined her family members. Freddy led the way back to the stage...but he paused halfway there, standing directly in Bonnie's way. "You destroyed that office," he reminded the towering rabbit. "You should help to put it back in place." Bonnie groaned, standing there with his shoulders sagging and his ears drooping downward. "Do I have to?" he complained, even though he was already turning around and stomping his way back to the office.

    "Hey. Short stuff." The large purple animatronic scowled at Mike through the open doorway. "I've got like ten minutes before I have to be on stage. Need some help with that? And don't think I'm doing this because I want to. Freddy made me."
  18. When Bonnie appeared in the doorway, Mike straightened and tensed, wondering if the bunny was there to finish the job he had tried to do earlier. With Chica probably already at the stage, it would be too late if Bonnie chose to end his life here and now. But when all the robot did was reluctantly offered help, Mike blinked at him in surprise. He knew Freddy didn't like him and it bewildered him that he would make Bonnie help him clean up. But, from the time spent here, Mike has deduced that Freddy holds responsibility above all else and so since Bonnie made the mess, it would only be logical for him to help clean up. But be that as it may, Mike was at odds with letting Bonnie help. On one hand, he knew the robot would like nothing more than to rip him limb from limb and so by Bonnie being forced to help him, it would probably make the robot hate him even more. But on the other, since Freddy was making him do it, Bonnie would probably become annoyed if Mike denied his help.

    The human stood there, worrying his bottom lip before he came to a decision. He nodded his head at the desk. "I just need help with the desk. I can manage the rest by myself." There. Now Bonnie can say he helped and he didn't have to be in Mike's presence any longer than the robot wanted to. Once the desk had been set back into place with Bonnie's help, Mike collected all the scattered papers and stacked them neatly upon the surface. He rightend the over-turned desk chair and gave the office a once-over. When everything seemed to be in place, he gathered his things and turned to go. However, he paused at the door and turned back to Bonnie. "I know it probably won't mean much to you but I want you to know I'm sorry about all of this. I know how much you don't like this situation or me but I really am sorry. I didn't want to separate Foxy from the rest of you and I will do my best to fix this. I'll see you tomorrow Bonnie" He said softly. If Foxy doesn't kill me tonight first. He thought to himself. With that said, Mike turned and exited the office. He gave Chica and Freddy a farewell nod and exited the building, locking the door behind him.

    As he leaned against the door, he glanced at the lightening sky and sighed. What a fine mess this all is. Groaning to himself, he pushed himself away from his support and began his long journey home. He was dead tired by the time he reached the front door and unlocked it. He was so tired as he stepped in that he didn't even think about Foxy laying in wait for him or something. But that wasn't the case. The kitchen and the living room remained free of one pirate robot and Mike's bedroom door was still shut. Kicking off his shoes, Mike made his way don the hall towards his bedroom. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, warily looking around. When he didn't immediately see Foxy, Mike searched the area until he found the fox curled up in his closet. Mike stared at the robot for a moment before dragging something off his bed.

    He stepped close and gently draped a blanket around the fox's shoulders. He didn't even know if Foxy could get cold but he did it all the same. He softly told the fox good night and eased the closet closed. Blurry-eyed, Mike kicked off his uniform and shrugged on an over-sized t-shirt that fell a little bit past his thighs. Too tired to vaguely worry about the possible homicidal fox in his closet, Mike collapsed onto the bed and fell fast asleep, uncovered because he had used the blanket he slept with to wrap around Foxy.
  19. Bonnie craned his neck to admire his handiwork, his luminous optics lingering on the upturned desk for a moment before snapping back onto the night guard. Here, in this well-lighted area, the stark difference in size between them became painfully obvious. Bonnie was a hulking monster. He wasn't far off from seven feet if his massive ears were included in his height, and that made him technically taller than Freddy. If Bonnie grabbed the human right here and now, he could rip him apart piece by revolting piece in a matter of seconds. Honestly, it was no wonder that they were confined to the stage and not allowed to wander around. Bonnie and Freddy, at the very least, could seriously harm or even kill a child if they took a single step in the wrong direction!

    "The desk's too much for you, eh?" A hint of smugness tainted the rabbit's voice and mischief glinted in his eyes. "Go lift some weights or something, seriously. Quit being such a weakling." He rubbed his furry hands together, stooping to duck through the open doorway and into the cramped security office. He waved the night guard off with one hand, warning him to stay back. Once Mike backed off far enough for his liking, Bonnie bent over again. He slipped both hands underneath the upturned desk, planted his feet on the floor, and heaved upward with a grunt. Shockingly enough, he was able to dead-lift the horrifically heavy desk just like that. With another loud grunt, he flipped it right-side up and carelessly dropped it back onto the ground--it landed with a loud plunk!

    "Yep. There we go." He rose back to his full height. Impatiently tapping his foot, Bonnie waited for Mike to make his exit first...but he perked up considerably when the guard peered over his shoulder and began speaking instead, raising one huge ear higher than the other. "You can fix it by bringing him back," he supplied, noisily clomping his way back toward the stage behind the human. "Even if it's just for the night. I'm still not fully convinced that you haven't scrapped him yourself, and I still kinda wanna punch your teeth down your throat. So hurry on home, night guard. And you'd better bring him back tomorrow night." His eyes darkened to an inky black for a few terrifying seconds. "Or I'll rip you apart organ by organ. You hear me?" The annoyed rabbit trudged his way back to the stage and took his usual place by Freddy, just before the clock struck six.

    Back in his temporary safe spot, Foxy didn't move at all. A mere twenty minutes after settling down in this confined space for good, the old pirate succumbed to his aching joints and the siren call of his basic programming (even though it was badly corrupted). He was totally out. He didn't even react when the human made his grand return to the apartment. He did stir when something touched him--it was an instinctual reaction. He remained in standby mode for several long hours, recovering from the injury he sustained when he took that awful tumble.

    The sun was high in the sky when the aging red animatronic finally did stir again. A loud whirring sound erupted from the closet as the pirate woke, his eyes still flickering dangerously. He groaned, pulling desperately at the bits of curtain fabric still snagged in his shoulder joints. He wasn't accustomed to going into standby mode during the nighttime, and his servos were all stiff and sore. Foxy tried to stand up, initially thinking he might still be in his Cove...but he froze halfway up, his golden optics refocusing. As the memories came flooding back to him, the pirate hissed like an angry snake and sank back down into his curled-up position. It was then that he noticed the blanket wrapped around him. He blinked, snatching up the unfamiliar fabric and studying it intently. After a moment, he tossed it to the side and huddled up even more tightly in his corner.

    He was frightened. Though he would never admit it if he was interrogated about shone bright and clear in those wide eyes of his. He desperately wanted to go home.
  20. The figure on the bed let out a series of whimpers, limbs flailing this way and that. Mike's expression could only be described as one of terror as he twisted about the bed, as if trying to fight off an invisible adversary. This continued for several minutes, his struggles increasing until he bolted upright with a sob, chest heaving up and down as dazed eyes frantically darted about the room. When he didn't see the very thing that haunted his nightmares, Mike released a shaky breath and flopped back onto the bed, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart. He hasn't had a nightmare that bad since....he left home. He sighed and sat up, running a hand through his hair and messing up the plenty messy locks. He glanced at his closet and stood, padding over. He cautiously peeked inside, seeing Foxy's prone form still huddled inside. Mike softly closed the door and padded towards the bathroom. He flicked on the light, blinking owlish as his eyes adjusted to the sudden increase of visibility.

    He studied his reflection in the mirror and frowned at the dark bruises under his eyes. Nightmares were such lovely things. Not. Mike turned away from the mirror and twisted the knobs on the wall in the shower. It took a little straining considering the hot water knob was a little rusty and hard to turn. But he managed to turn it, even if the sudden give of the metal almost sent Mike head-long into the hot spray that shot out. He regained his footing just in time and straightened, grabbing the hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. To the floor it went along with his boxers and into the shower Mike went.

    He stood under the hot water for several minutes, eyes closed and head tipped back as he sighed. Could he just stay in here forever, surrounded by the warmth and the quiet? It certainly seemed a whole lot better than the world outside of this tiny space. But alas, he could not stand there as long as he would have wanted and so he grabbed his shampoo and washed it into his hair.

    After about ten minutes the water shut off and Mike climbed out, water droplets running down his face. He grabbed a towel and dried off before wrapping it around his waist and opening the bathroom, stepping into his bedroom. When Foxy didn't leap out from anywhere he breathed a sigh of relief and faced his closet. Well, here was a dilemma. His clothes were in there...wait! No they weren't! Well, at least, most of them weren't. Mike had recently done laundry and most of his clothes were currently hanging up in the wash room because he hadn't gotten around to putting anything away.

    Mike strode from his room and headed through the kitchen to the door leading to the small room. He grabbed some underwear, a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved, black and blue checkered button shirt. He got dressed in the tiny space and walked back to his bedroom as he toweled his hair dry. However, before he got very far his phone, which he had left on the counter in the kitchen, began to ring. Grabbing it, he pressed answer and held the device to his ear.


    "Hey man it's Stuart! Listen, a buddy of mine is giving me a van but since I have my truck I don't need it. It needs a little work but if you can fix it up, it's yours!"

    "R-Really! That's great, thanks so much!"

    Mike felt a smile spread across his face. If he had the van then he could take Foxy up to the diner tonight. And then Bonnie won't make wall art of him.

    "If you're not busy, we can start today."

    "I'll head out now. See you in a bit Stuart."

    Mike hung up and slipped the phone into his pocket. He looked at his shirt before going back to the washroom and changing into a plain white long-sleeved shirt. He headed into his bedroom and threw the towel into the hamper resting beside his closet and sighed, directing his attention to the fox hidden behind the doors.

    "Foxy? Can you hear me? Look, I know you're probably really scared right now and I wished I could have talked to you about this but...Look, I overheard the manager and the owner talking about scrapping you. I...I just couldn't let that happen so the manager said if I work at Fazbear's as both a night guard and a mechanic then I could bring you home. I know you hate my guts and I wish I didn't have to separate you from the others but it's the only thing I can think of. But hey, my friend is giving me a van so I can take you to work with me tonight. You...You wouldn't be able to stay there, you would have to come back here with me in the morning but...could you tolerate me at least during daylight hours? Y-You...You won't even have to look at me, I'll stay out of the closet unless absolutely necessary. Just...try to work with me on this? I know you would like nothing better than to rip me limb from limb but...I'm trying my best here. I'm sorry it turned out like this. I know that won't mean much to you but there it is. A-And now I'm rambling. I have to go...I'll see you later Foxy."

    Mike said softly, turning away from the closet and after grabbing everything he would for the day, he bite his lip and locked the bedroom door, clicking it softly shut behind him though he left the bedroom light on for Foxy in case he came out of the closet.

    Mike slipped his shoes on, grabbed a jacket because it was cold outside and exited his apartment, locking the door behind him. He ran a hand through his wet hair and prayed he wouldn't get sick. That would just be perfect on top of everything else. He dropped his hand and headed down the steps and set off towards Stuarts place.
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