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

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Initially, when those peculiar sounds pierced the air, Foxy believed that they were coming from a child. So, naturally, his head popped up, his ears stood straight up, and he swung his head around rapidly, searching for the source of the din. It didn't take him all that long to realize, after listening a bit more closely, that it was definitely the voice of an adult producing those distressed noises. Huffing loudly, the fox settled back down into his new favorite corner again. He had zero interest in assisting an adult in distress. A child was a completely different story. He would go through hell and high water to help a distressed child! But an adult? Pah! Why bother? Adults were horrible creatures.

When the sounds abruptly cut off, Foxy's ears pricked upward again...but this time, he didn't even bother lifting his head. He did growl like a tiger trapped in a sturdy cage when he distinctly heard footsteps approaching him. The faint light from the bedroom illuminated the cramped closet space, and revealed the position of the dilapidated old fox. Foxy had himself squished into a protective ball in the far right corner, his tail wrapped around his feet and backside, his legs snug against his chest, his arms propped up on his knees, and his muzzle and face buried somewhere between them. Even though this position practically screamed fear, the filthy red fur that ran along Foxy's back rose into a threatening arch when he felt an unwelcome gaze boring into him.

He was raising his hackles at Mike. Like an aggressive and angry dog.

The return of the darkness was more than welcomed by the old pirate. He grumbled under his breath, sneaking a peek at the faint corona of light that seeped in around the edges of the door. Though he was still seething with anger, his previous desire to turn that repulsive night guard into mincemeat had long since faded. As much as he hated to admit it, that pea-brained adult was the only one who knew where they were. Though he was admittedly quite interested in the world outside of the pizzeria, this was not how he wanted to explore it. He had no idea how to get back home! If he could just get his hands on a map...maybe he could make a grand escape when the night guard left, or when he wasn't looking!

Hm...that was an intriguing sound. One of Foxy's ears swiveled to better catch that faint noise. It sounded oddly familiar...but where had he heard this sort of sound before...? Foxy blinked, squinting off into the distance and rubbing his chin with the tip of his hook. ...Oh! Yes, that's right! It was the sound of running water. The sinks in the pizzeria's poorly-maintained bathrooms made similar noises whenever he turned the knobs and the water flowed from the faucets. He found it to be a rather comforting sound, and on those rare nights when they didn't have to worry about annihilating a night guard, Foxy sometimes disappeared into the bathroom to run the faucets. He figured that the suits in management were still scratching their heads and wondering why their utilities bills skyrocketed every now and again.

The running water lulled the old fox into a half-awake state, and even when it disappeared, he remained in that comfortable state. Until the phone decided to ring, that was. The sudden piercing sound of the phone startled Foxy. He let out a bark of surprise, and some crashing sounds from the closet indicated that he might have fallen over, or tripped over something in the darkness. Not wanting the night guard to poke his big stupid head in, wondering what was going on, and seeing him in this sprawled-out state, Foxy was quick to right himself, shimmying back into his corner. At least he had the decency to look embarrassed about his actions.

A hair-raising snarl was the knee-jerk response the hidden animatronic had to his name being called. Foxy curled in further on himself, deliberately hiding his face from view just in case the human did decide to poke his head into the closet. He wasn't surprised to hear that the manager wanted to scrap him...but the fact that the owner finally caved in only served to puzzle him. The owner was a mysterious old man. He could only remember that human agreeing to scrap animatronics once in the past, and that was because he was genuinely afraid of the Toys (particularly the old Marionette). Even so...Foxy had a sneaking suspicion that he hadn't really scrapped the Toys at all and that he was just keeping them stored somewhere, deactivated and dead to the world.

The mere mention of going back to the pizzeria had Foxy lifting his head, ears angled forward cautiously. ...So...the night guard was willing to take him home tonight, but at the end of his shift, he would have to suck it up and leave again to avoid being scrapped, huh? He definitely didn't like that idea, if the nonsensical grumbling coming from the closet was any indication...but did he really have any choice? If the owner wanted to scrap him now, there was nothing he could do about it. Freddy and the elusive Golden were the only ones who communicated directly with the owner, and even so, that in itself was a rare occasion. If the owner wouldn't change his mind, the two bears would likely have to put their feet down.

Patiently, Foxy waited for the night guard to leave. Once he did, the closet door creaked open a couple of inches. Foxy poked his sharp-toothed face out, scanning the room warily for any sign of Mike. Only when he found no traces of the adult did Foxy climb out of the closet. He shook himself off like a wet dog and scratched gratefully at his itchy shoulders with his hook. For the life of him, he couldn't get those snagged bits of curtain out of his shoulder joints. He did a final sweep of the room, searching for potential threats...before he took a step forward, sniffing the air.

If there was one thing that outweighed Foxy's fear of being in a new place...it was his wild sense of curiosity.

Confident that the night guard was nowhere near, the metal fox prowled about the room. The first thing he did was poke inquisitively at the mattress, eyes wide as dinner plates. Upon finding it to be soft, he tensed his legs, tail wiggling playfully, and leaped onto it. He spent a few moments just rolling around on the wonderfully soft object, and making a blanket burrito out of himself with all of the sheets and covers. Eventually, though, the need to explore burned within him again and Foxy reluctantly left the bed behind. He went through the small dresser next, throwing clothing this way and that. He didn't bother with the closet--after all, he'd already seen everything in there. The next thing he did was make a beeline for the bathroom. Foxy went straight for the sink and turned the knob, purring like a content kitten when the water came gushing out of the faucet. He recognized the toilet for what it was, though he did reach out and push on the handle to see if it worked like the ones in the restaurant. The shower threw him for a loop. He circled the unfamiliar object, staring it down like it was his opponent in a boxing match. A peek inside revealed that there were two knobs there. Eagerly, Foxy leaned into the shower, hand outstretched for the knob...but then he noticed the faucet directly above them and jerked backward, growling loudly. Water didn't normally do too much damage to the other three animatronics...but Foxy's inner workings and wiring were exposed, so he couldn't afford to get wet.

He spent a good half hour exploring the bedroom. He did try the door that led out into the rest of the place again, but found it was locked once more. A good move on the night guard's part. That broken window would be far too tempting for this curious fox, and he would probably fall straight out if he wasn't careful enough. Foxy ended his bout of exploration by flopping over onto the mattress again. He spent the next fifteen minutes constructing a makeshift pirate ship out of blankets, pillows, and sheets. It didn't look pretty, but it was certainly comfortable. Before he knew it, he was out again, curled up comfortably on the night guard's cozy mattress.
 
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In hind sight, Mike should have realized that after his nightmare last night, today wasn't just his day. He hadn't even gotten a block before the sky opened and the heavens rained down. At first he had started running but after he became winded he realized that he was as soaked as he could possibly get and so he decided instead of risking another attack, he resumed a walking pace. When he reached Stuarts house, Mike was positive he resembled a drowned cat or something. His friend took one look at him before he ushered Mike inside his house and went rummaging around for something for him to wear. Mike tried to protest that it was just water and his clothes would dry but Stuart would have none of it and practically shoved the shorter male into the bathroom. Mike sighed and shimmied out of his wet jeans and t-shirt before drying off with the towel Stuart had set on sink before slipping into the other males clothes. The jeans would barely stay on Mike's waist and the t-shirt was so baggy you could have fit of him in there.

When Mike stepped out of the bathroom it took everything Stuart had to not burst out laughing. Mike looked like a little kid playing dress-up! Snickering quietly to himself, he offered to throw Mike's soaking clothing in the dryer before showing him the van that was parked in his garage. Mike popped the hood and got to work. It took the better part of two hours before Mike slammed the hood shut and started the engine. It came to life without a problem and Stuart gave Mike a high-five. Mike retrieved his now dry clothing and politely refused Stuart's offer to stay for lunch; he didn't want to leave Foxy alone longer than was absolute necessary. Mike drove home in a relatively better mood than he had started in though he didn't have a clue how well the ride up to the diner was going to be tonight. Hopefully Foxy didn't try to kill him once the robot was in the car.

Mike soon arrived home and parked, climbing out and heading up to his apartment. He stepped inside, kicking out of his shoes and heading towards his bedroom. He cautiously peeked inside, blinking in surprise to see his bed now resembling a fort built out of his pillows and blankets. Seeing as Foxy was the only other occupant of the room, it must have been him that did this. Mike cautiously approached the bed and peeked inside to see Foxy curled peacefully on his bed. A small smile flitted across Mike's face and he withdrew as an idea lit up in his head. He headed to his wash room where he kept a box full of odds and ends that he had no other place to put. He pulled out some tools and screws and bolts before carrying these items back to the bedroom and gently setting them on the bed. He climbed onto the mattress carefully and parted the blanket, revealing Foxy. Mike leaned forward, heart thudding his chest at being so close to the robot. Mike narrowed his eyes as he examined Foxy's jaw. The only thing wrong was that there was a screw missing! Couldn't that idiot mechanic before Mike have fixed at least that?!

A scowl fixed on his face, Mike got to work. He screwed Foxy's jaw back into place then made sure it was well oiled so it moved up and down smoothly. He didn't know what the state of the animatronic's voice box was in but he wanted to see if Foxy's jaw worked properly first. Then Mike used his nimble fingers to unhook his ruined curtain from the places it was stuck on the robot, his small fingers able to pull it out easily. Once he could do all that he could with the limited resources available to him, Mike eased off the bed and gathered his things before exiting the bedroom and closed the quietly silently behind him.

Mike put the things away then made himself a small bowl of cereal, eating it as he surveyed the damage left in his living room. After he finished eating, he managed to clean up the rest of the mess though he still didn't have a clue what he was going to do about his window. That done, Mike headed down to the van and laid both bench seats all the way back so Foxy could lay in the back instead of having to squeeze into the front with Mike. The human also made sure the radio was turned off so it didn't scare the robot when Mike turned the car on. He then headed back up to his apartment and got dressed in his uniform.

Now to wake Foxy up. Unsure how to safely go about it, Mike made sure the door knob to the bedroom was locked and stood in the doorway with the door halfway closed in case he needed to close it quickly. "Foxy. it's time to head to the diner."
 
Once again, Foxy only stirred when he was touched, but thankfully the slumbering fox didn't fully wake up. Perhaps it was the human's lucky day after all. Foxy hated to be touched, particularly by adults...and especially by men. Had he woken up in that moment to find the night guard hovering over him with a potentially lethal weapon in his hands, Foxy would have instantly gone berserk, smashing his hook violently into Mike's vulnerable head. Even when he wasn't active, Foxy could apparently still feel everything that was being done to him. An ear twitched ominously as the broken side of his jaw was screwed into place, but he still didn't wake. Strange sounds escaped him as the stray bits of curtain fabric were finally disentangled from his worn-down joints.

They sounded like...feline purrs.

With his jaw back in place and able to function as it should, Foxy seemed a lot less scary upon first sight. Now that his mouth wasn't hanging open constantly and showing off his massive sharp teeth, he definitely looked to be more child-friendly. He stirred a little when Mike stood up to leave the room, but it was only long enough to stretch his long legs and snap his powerful jaws shut. Apparently, he'd fallen in love with the night guard's comfortable mattress. The softest things back in his Cove were the moth-ravaged old bean bags in the treasure trove, where he used to sit to tell stories about his fabricated exploits on the high seas to children. Sad as it was to think about it, this was the first time (that he could remember, anyway) that Foxy had ever curled up to rest in a proper bed.

His rampage through the apartment, combined with the tumble he took earlier and his avid exploration of the bedroom and the attached bathroom, must have truly worn Foxy out, because the red animatronic slumbered on and on. He didn't even wake up on his own--it was the not-entirely-welcome voice of the night guard that jolted him out of his sleep. Startled, Foxy shot up on the mattress, sending the hastily-stacked parts of his makeshift pirate ship flying in the process. He blinked, his left eye flickering badly, before his expression soured and his narrowed golden optics focused entirely on Mike's figure blocking the only way out of the bedroom. Slowly, cautiously, Foxy rose to his full height, rolling his shoulders and fixing a flat stare on the human.

It was only when he rolled his shoulders that he realized something felt different. The fox's ears jumped up. His head swiveled around quickly, noting that the previously hopelessly tangled bits of fabric were now gone. A puzzled sound was halfway out of his mouth when he jumped, startled to feel something else different. His single hand shot up, exposed metal fingers pawing curiously at his once-broken jaw. It was totally fixed! His first reaction was jubilation...

...Before he realized that he wasn't at the pizzeria. And that that lazy excuse for a mechanic wouldn't touch him to kick him. Which meant...

Foxy took a couple of steps backward, looking decidedly offended...like a girl who just discovered an unwelcome visitor rifling through her drawer full of delicates. "Ugh..." His fake fur stood on end, much like the fur on a flesh and blood fox. "How dare ye go touchin' the Cap'n!" Now that he was able to speak human without reeling in pain thanks to his mangled jaw, the amount of damage Foxy's voice box had incurred over the years became obvious. Though there were still remnants of his actual voice--which was deep and salty with a comically thick pirate accent--it was mostly overpowered by scratchiness and a sound that was amusingly reminiscent of a dial-up internet modem. "'Specially when he be countin' sheep," Foxy continued, that offended look rearing its ugly head again. "Creepy little landlubber."

He squinted suspiciously in Mike's direction, his tattered arms folded across his ripped-up chest. Clearly, Foxy was debating whether or not the night guard was being honest. A full minute passed before the old pirate moved. He took a step forward, brandishing his hook at the human. "Yeh'd best be tellin' Ol' Foxy the truth, nigh' guard," he growled, a threatening undertone to his voice. "Or I'll keelhaul ye!"
 
Mike tensed when Foxy rose to full height and stared at Mike. His hand gripping the knob tightened as he prepared to flee should the fox chose to attack. Mike watched as Foxy seemed to realize that the curtain bits were gone and as Foxy felt his jaw, Mike worried his lip, wondering what Foxy will do about this new discovery. As Foxy's joyous reaction quickly melted into indignation, Mike almost rolled his eyes. It wasn't like he didn't anything unspeakable, all he did was fix his jaw and removed the curtain! Gosh. They've tried to kill him multiple times, he should be the one offended. He hasn't ever done anything to them and they all hate his guts! Had he offended them somehow when he was first hired? He really can't think of anything but them again, that first night had been a terror-filled haze when he realized that the robots were moving of their own free will and were trying to get at him in the office.

Mike planted his hands on hips, frowning. "Is a thank you too much to ask for?" He muttered to himself. He sighed and looked at the fox. "I'm not lying about taking you to the diner. I see know reason as to why I would lie about that. Now, we're gonna be late. Come on." Mike turned on his heel and headed towards his front door. He wrapped a large tarp around the fox since it was still drizzling outside and ushered the robot out with a lot of grumbling from said fox. They made it to the van without incident and Mike managed to convince the robot to lay down in the back seat. Mike got in, buckled up before driving towards the diner. The silence that resonated throughout the van could have been cut with a knife it was so thick. Mike was glad when they pulled in front of the diner just a little before midnight. Mike made Foxy wait out in the car and went inside so the camera's caught him coming in on time for his shift. The second the clock hit midnight and the cameras stopped recording to the footage tapes, Mike ushered Foxy from the van and inside. He folded the tarp and left it by the door for them to use when they left in case it was still raining.

As Mike spied the other animatronics he tensed. Now that they had Foxy back, were they going to try and kill him? Not wanting to test fate and their patience, Mike turned on his heel and headed towards the office to give them some time with Foxy. He engaged the locks on the doors just in case and sat down in his swivel seat, ideally flicking through the cameras. He felt a tickle in the back of his throat and coughed to try and clear it but it didn't work. He was then surprised when a sneeze exploded from him. He grabbed a tissue and shivered. Had it always been this cold in the office? Unaware to Mike, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes slightly dazed with a fever.

The walk in the rain seemed to have gotten him sick though he wasn't aware of it yet. But even if he did know he was ill, he would have hidden it and pretended he was fine so people wouldn't worry about him. However, Mike just thought his allergies were acting up. He had been couped in a dusty garage working on the van so he just pushed it away and continued looking through the cameras.
 
Foxy trudged after Mike with a distinct lack of enthusiasm, purposely dragging his metal feet against the floor and in turn making a horrible scratching sound. He initially jerked back from the offered tarp like it was some venomous snake, baring his dangerously sharp teeth again...but he eventually relented and yanked the crinkly thing up and over his head. Like a stubborn child who desperately wanted to get out of going to the dentist, Foxy made a point of whining and complaining during the entire trip to the van, shoulders slumped and jaw clenched. But his expressive golden optics betrayed him. They were owlishly wide and darting rapidly from object to object.

Evidently, despite being unhappy with his new surroundings, he was insanely curious about them. Which was promising. Perhaps he would settle in quickly once he got over his initial fear!

Foxy held them up on the bottom floor, where he lingered curiously by the list of addresses near the front door. He laughed hysterically, the sound incredibly creepy and garbled, when he realized one of the tenants on the ground floor had a surname of 'Ho.' He was still wheezing with broken laughter, in fact, as he was shepherded toward the front door. He didn't immediately step out. Instead, the old pirate froze in the doorway, looking decidedly uneasy. Slowly, carefully, Foxy leaned out of the doorway, turning his head this way and that. A bit of rain pelted him on his long muzzle and he jerked backward, nose crinkling up. He cast a baleful glower up at the sky, silently cursing it for daring to drip water on him. It took him several minutes to make his way outside--a few times he raised one foot and nearly placed it on the pavement, but drew it back at the last second.

When he stepped out at last, he wiggled his mechanical toes, staring profusely at the sky above. He wasn't grumbling any more. In fact, he looked like he was in awe, and his eyes were darting about a mile a minute. Was this, perhaps, the first time he'd been outside while he was active...? He paused again when some clouds parted overhead, revealing the moon and some sparkling stars in the night sky. The look on his face was eerily human, almost childlike with wonder, as he stared upward...at least until a massive drop of rain splattered against one of his eyes. He snarled, wiping determinedly at his eyes, and at last tottered after Mike.

Foxy spent a full minute circling the van, poking and prodding at it and then leaping backward like he expected it to suddenly come to life and attack him. When he determined it was safe, he awkwardly climbed into the back seat, huddling himself up by the window. He was silent during the trip, his face smushed up against the window and his eyes wide as could be as he watched the world pass by. He perked up noticeably when they turned into the parking lot of the pizzeria. Some painful-sounding squeaking sounds accompanied the wagging of his ratty tail. He didn't like being told to wait and it was clear--he pouted and sulked like a moody teenager while the night guard bolted into the building. The wait felt like hours even though it was only minutes. Foxy needed no convincing to hop out of the van, though he stuck close to Mike in the parking lot just in case they had to make a break for it--he didn't know that the place was devoid of human presence.

Mike was lucky that he left Foxy's side when he did. As soon as the pirate set foot in the place, something huge and lilac-furred smashed into him. With a startled yell from Foxy and a triumphant howl from Bonnie, the two animatronics went crashing and rolling through the dining hall, victimizing several tables and chairs in their wake as they tussled and laughed. "What are you doing?!" Chica shrieked, waving her arms around desperately. Even though she was worried about the state of the restaurant, she too still sounded ecstatic about Foxy's return. "You're gonna get us in soooo much trouble!" Neither male responded. Or...at least, it didn't sound like they responded. The oddly mechanical noises that emanated from Foxy and Bonnie were suspicious, indeed...but to the human ear, their secret language was...well, secret.

>You're okay! I was worried!< >Get offa me!< >Make me!< >Bon, get off!< With a disappointed snort, Bonnie released his hold on Foxy, sitting carelessly on top of the remains of a dining table. "Well, Jesus, Foxy. Did the night guard suck all the fun out of you or some...thing...?" The rabbit squinted at his best friend as he sprang to his feet, angrily brushing himself off. "Hey!" He pointed rudely at the pirate. "Your face is fixed!" Freddy, who until this point had yet to move from his place, suddenly swiveled his head around, blue optics refocusing. Foxy grunted, rubbing self-consciously at his jaw, and turned on his heel, heading for his dilapidated Cove. "Aye." The other three animatronics winced at the state of his humanoid voice, which they hadn't heard in so very long. "What of it?" "Uh..." Bonnie rubbed the back of his head. "Did he fix it?" Foxy paused, halfway through the curtains, and met Bonnie's gaze. "...Aye." His features twisted with suspicion. "...Why?" "Whoa there, short stuff." Bonnie held up his hands in surrender. "I didn't ask him to fix you. None of us did. So don't take it out on us."

With a condescending snort, Foxy disappeared behind his curtains. As soon as he did, the other three animatronics met in the center of the room, huddling together and speaking in that foreign mechanical language. A few moments passed, and then they broke their huddle. Bonnie headed for Pirate Cove. Chica, of course, clunked her way to the kitchen. But Freddy stared pointedly at the camera, his expression unreadable. Static overtook the camera screen, and when it cleared, the bear was gone.

He was on his way to the office.
 
Mike happened to click onto the main room in time to see Bonnie and Foxy go crashing and rolling through the tables. Mike almost banged his head against the desk with a distressed moan. Didn't they realize he had to clean up all that up?! He scowled at them as he watched them on the screen. The audio on the camera's was absolute crap but Mike was still able to pick up Bonnie and Foxy...conversing? It sounded like they were but all Mike heard was a bunch of whirs and clicks. Was that supposed to mean something? Mike's suspicions that it was a secret language was only confirmed when Bonnie started talking normally, as if he was continuing their conversation. Mike squinted, spine stiffening when Bonnie pointed out Foxy's fixed jaw. If Foxy had acted all offended, Mike couldn't only imagine how the others would react to him having touched their family member. Good Lord. He didn't mean anything by it, he was just trying to help! He had felt bad about how scared Foxy was and wanted to try and do something nice for him!

He sighed and watched as Foxy disappeared behind the curtains to his Cove. Unease crept down his spine when the three band members huddled together and he had a feeling it had something to do with him. They dispersed, Bonnie heading after Foxy and Chica heading unsurprisingly towards the kitchen. Since the camera was broken in there he could only hear her as she clanked around and the curtain was drawn around Pirate Cove and the audio didn't work for that camera at all. He switched back to the main camera and froze as he spied Freddy staring straight at the camera. Static suddenly covered the screen and when it cleared, the bear was gone.

Mike frantically switched to the camera on the hallway, feeling ice skitter down his spine as he saw Freddy marching towards the office. Oh crap. Ran through his mind. Why did he suddenly feel like he was either about to get painfully torn apart or get the scolding of his life? Mike's first reaction was to keep the doors locked but he knew that if Freddy really wanted to get inside, he would. Mike bit his lip and sighed. Guess he better meet his fate head on. If Freddy did rend him limb from limb he hoped they at least clean it up. As much as they hated him, he didn't want them getting in trouble and possibly getting scrapped.

Mike sighed and climbed to his feet, having to clench at the desk for a few moments as a wave of dizziness washed over him. When it passed, the man straightened up and heading towards the door. He released the lock on the door and sat back down in his seat as the door slid up. A cough sprang from his throat and his shoulders hunched as the spasms had his throat and chest hurting from the strength of them. He shivered, pulling his jacket tighter around him as he made a mental note to ask management if they could turn up the heater in here at night.
 
The sounds that came from the kitchen camera sounded similar, yet...different, somehow. Chica could also clearly be heard singing a little ditty to herself as she moved around in the kitchen. Privately, she was actually happy that Mike took the initiative and decided to spruce up their resident black sheep a bit. At the same time...he did it without Foxy's permission. And...well...there was the matter of who fixed him. Touched him. Though the others weren't aware of it, she was intent on giving the night guard a gift for fixing Foxy's jaw. Freddy could handle the explanation by himself, right? None of them needed to be present, right?

She certainly hoped not. She didn't like thinking about it, let alone talking about it...

The bad audio from the Pirate Cove camera wasn't enough to conceal the fact that Foxy and Bonnie were in the middle of some kind of discussion. The words couldn't be deciphered over the camera, but it didn't sound like a happy conversation by any means. They were thinking along the same lines as Chica. Freddy was their guardian. The enforcer of rules. And they were under the impression that poor unsuspecting Mike was about to find out what happened when someone broke the rules in Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria.

"Night guard."

Freddy's distinctive ocean blue optics suddenly materialized in the dark space just beyond the right doorway. He stayed exactly where he was, unwilling to approach further...but his reluctance to enter the office had nothing to do with fear, nor did it have anything to do with respect. In the dim light, the bear's features twisted in disdain as the human coughed and hacked. He didn't want any of Mike's repulsive germs to latch themselves onto him. In fact, he was sorely disappointed in the human for not calling in sick and simply dropping Foxy off for the night--sick employees had no business coming to work, especially when there were children with vulnerable immune systems running around.

Then again, he didn't really expect much from a night guard.

"You have broken the rules," Freddy continued after his bout of silence, meeting Mike's gaze without a hint of hesitation. "I do not care if the management have tasked you with repairing us. If that is what they wish, then so be it. However..." His optics darkened dangerously. "You made a grave mistake. You decided to tamper with a member of my family while he was not active." He leaned forward into the light, making a point of staring down at the obviously sick human. "That is against the rules. And quite rude, if I do say so myself." Freddy leaned forward even more, his hands twitching ominously...as if he wanted nothing more than to leap forward and clamp those hands tight on Mike's throat. "Would you touch a human being that was clearly uncomfortable with your presence and your touch while awake...if he was unconscious and unaware?"
 
Mike sat patiently waiting for Freddy and even if he knew the bear was coming, the sound of the animatronic's voice from the doorway startled him and he nearly jumped a foot in the air. He turned and froze when he saw the expression in Freddy's eyes. Yep, he's going to get ripped limb from limb now. His body tensed to flee, probably to the kitchen when Freddy spoke. Mike stared firmly planted in his seat the entire time as Freddy made his speech, eyes never once leaving the bear's. Once Freddy said all he needed to, Mike seemed frozen in place, not even breathing as horror unfurled in his eyes. He blinked slowly, glancing down at his hands as if he didn't recognize them anymore. He was such an idiot. Why the hell did even do that in the first place?! Sure, he had wanted to help but why couldn't he have waited until he talked to Foxy about it?! No wonder the fox had looked so violated, Mike would have been too if the positions were reversed, good intentions be damned!

Blue eyes slowly looked back up at Freddy and whispered words filled with horror and apology escaped his parted lips. "God...I'm so sorry...I didn't even think..." He breathed in a ragged breath, not even caring if Freddy chose at that moment to make his death as painful as possible. Mike wouldn't have stopped him. He deserved it. Since he had left that...hell hole he vowed he would never become like that man but here he was, selfishly doing whatever he wanted! How many nights, how many nights had he had nightmares about what that man did to him?! How the hell could he have done that to Foxy?! Mike was standing before he even realized what was happening. He exited through the other door - he was pretty sure Freddy didn't want Mike coming within a foot of him - and down the hall Mike went. He stopped outside of the curtain hiding Pirate Cove.

"F-Foxy..? I am so, so, sorry about what I did. I know my apologies don't mean a damn to you but I just want you to know that I had no right to do what I did. I-I just wanted to help but I was just to stupid to think it through. I will never be able to apologize enough for what happened. I will never touch you again, I swear. I won't even look at you if that's what you want." Mike didn't even try and hide how terrible he felt over what he did, letting the emotion color his tone. He turned away from the Cove and shuffled away. He was surprised Bonnie hadn't come after him earlier, as horrible as Mike had acted towards his friend.

As Mike came upon the destroyed stage area he paused, surveying the damage. There wasn't any way he could clean this all up by himself but he felt he needed to punish himself in some way. He didn't care if Freddy himself offered to help, Mike was going to clean up the area on his own regardless if he didn't make it in the first place. And so he got to work. Bonnie and Foxy had certainly done a number on the room. Tables and chairs were scattered about the place. Mike worked without stopping for a break, lifting the heavy tables by himself and dragging them to their respectable places. And the entire time, the only thing he could think about was what a terrible person he was.

There was even a point where he tripped and possibly twisted his ankle. However, Mike climbed to his feet and got back to work even if he was limping heavily.
 
Whatever reaction Freddy was expecting from the night guard, it certainly wasn't this one. The large animatronic backpedaled some, ears bouncing with both confusion and a mild sense of satisfaction. Huh. The last night guard that tampered with them while they weren't active immediately began spouting off ridiculous nonsense. Something along the lines of since he was an employee, he was above them, and that meant that he could tamper with them all he wanted. Needless to say, that cheeky man found himself on the wrong end of a spare endoskeleton that night--rather than just cram him into a suit, they figured they would split him open from neck to pelvis, yank out all of the unnecessary organs, and then shove an entire endoskeleton into his body. An exceptionally painful death for an exceptionally foul human.

Freddy maintained his silence even as Mike bolted from the office. He leaned heavily against the door frame, staring off into nothingness and rubbing one side of his neck. He was so deep in thought that for the longest time, it didn't register with him that he wasn't alone. "That was interesting," a chipper voice, similar to Freddy's but not quite as deep, quipped. Freddy heaved a sigh, peering idly over his shoulder even though he already knew what his eyes would find. His golden doppelganger hovered in the air behind him, arms folded across his filthy chest. "You don't get that often, do you, Freddy?" he hummed, the dark abyss of his eyes boring into the other animatronic. "Being regarded as people rather than machines. How intriguing." "It doesn't matter," Freddy muttered, gently brushing past the floating specter. "It has happened before. But it ends the same way every time." "You're just afraid of change," the golden bear taunted, fading backward into the wall. "It's high time we quit being afraid. Don't you think?"

The very first response to Mike's words was a vehement "Piss off, midget," from Bonnie, who was also hidden from view behind the tattered purple curtains. It was only after the human finished his spiel and walked off that Foxy poked his head out from behind the curtains. He said nothing for what seemed like an eternity. He just glowered sullenly at the night guard, his expression conflicted. When he finally did speak, it was soft, and barely audible. "...Ol' Foxy accepts yer apology." His golden eyes flashed. "Don' do it again." Without another word, the irritated fox yanked his head back behind the curtains, probably off to talk to Bonnie.

Freddy chose this moment to return to the main dining hall. He didn't offer to help. Instead, he made a beeline for the small storage room behind their stage, disappearing inside. He emerged a few seconds later, clutching a well-worn copy of The Great Gatsby in his hands. He settled himself down at one of the intact tables, absently flipping the book open. So...this was what Freddy liked to do when his every move wasn't being monitored by a night guard. He liked to read!

Just after Mike accidentally overturned his ankle, Chica reappeared from within the kitchen, clutching a pizza box and looking quite pleased with herself. "Hey, night guard! I want you to--..." She stopped short, watching closely as the human limped about the room. "How did you hurt yourself this time?" She sounded exasperated, like a mother chasing after her accident-prone toddler. "Sit down--put that chair down. You're in no fit state to be lifting heavy stuff. Um..." She glanced around furtively, noticing that Freddy was watching her out of the corner of his eye. "I, uh...I know you were trying to be nice when you fixed Foxy's jaw," she began anxiously, shuffling her feet against the carpeting. "You should have asked first. But it was a nice gesture. So..."

She held the box out, sheepishly refusing to meet Mike's gaze. "I, um...I made this pizza for you."
 
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Mike considered ignoring Chica's order to sit down and keep working on the room but there was something so...motherly in her tone that Mike unconsciously set down the chair he was holding and plopped down into. Wait...This time? She sounded so exasperated at him, like she was coming to expect this but he wasn't clumsy! Gravity just hated his guts and his feet sometimes forgot which one was left and which was right. But he could walk across a flat surface...sometimes...when his feet decided they wanted to cooperate. Okay...maybe he was a teensy bit clumsy. Mike watched in slight confusion as Chica glanced over at Freddy, the human doing to same before looking back at the robot in front of him.

Was she about to tear into him like Freddy had? She had every right to, he would have sat there and took it. He wasn't expecting anything but that and so he flinched back slightly when she held something out to him. Confused blue eyes flickered up to meet her pink optics as he reached out and carefully took the pizza, making sure his hands stayed safely away from her own. He set the box on the table next to him, glancing at Chica once more. He didn't understand. Why was she thanking him?! She should be mad at him for what he did!

"T-Thank you..?"

He wasn't sure if he meant it as a question but he was so confused and muddled that it came out that way. He lifted the lid of the box, gazing down at the pizza. He had heard Chica rattling around in the kitchen many a night but he didn't think she could actually cook. He gingerly lifted up a slice and brought it hesitantly towards his mouth. He took a small bite, eyes widening at the taste and shooting back up to look at Chica. "It's good!" He exclaimed quietly. At this point he hadn't realized how hungry he had been and so he began eating more of the slice. He was careful to take small bites so as to not make a mess. However, no matter how delicious it was, Mike's appetite had grown small from his irregular eating habits and so he was only able to eat one slice before he was full.

He tucked the lid back over the box and stood up. The room was still a mess and Mike needed to get it cleaned up before his shift was over. He gave Chica a small smile. "My foot doesn't hurt that much. Besides, I need to get the room cleaned up before six." He said softly and moved away, doing everything he could to make it look like he wasn't limping. The only thing left for him to really do was pick up all the scattered chairs and put them back in their places. By the time he was finished it was ten til six. He gave Chica another small smile that didn't quite reached his eyes as he picked up the pizza box to take home. "Thank you again for the pizza. I'll see you tomorrow Chica." He gave Freddy a small farewell nod before making his way to Pirate Cove. "Foxy, it's time to go. I'll wait for you by the door. Good bye Bonnie." Mike said softly before heading over to the door. He peeked outside and was glad to see that the sky was clear.

Once Foxy joined him, Mike held the van door open for the Foxy, eyes averted and making sure to keep his distance. Once the fox was settled in, Mike climbed into the driver's seat and headed back to his apartment. The sun was just peeking over the horizon and Mike carefully covered Foxy with the tarp, making sure not to touch him. They didn't need someone seeing the animatronic. They made it inside without incident and Mike moved towards the bedroom after setting the pizza in the fridge. He debated taking a shower but he was just so tired that he decided against it. He changed into a t-shirt and warm pajama pants before making his way to the living room holding his smallest pillow and red blanket.

"You take the bed." Mike mumbled to Foxy before curling up on the couch in a small ball, red blanket tucked over him. Mike sighed and shut his eyes, looking so small curled up on the couch. As sleep washed over him he shivered, cheeks flushed with a fever. He vaguely wondered if he should turn up the heat but his limbs just felt so heavy that he decided to suffer in silence. He would be fine.
 
"You're welcome." As silently as she could, the yellow animatronic backed off a considerable amount to give Mike some space while he ate. "I like to cook, you see. It's my favorite thing in the whole wide world, aside from making children laugh and smile! I don't know if I'm any good or not..." From across the room, Freddy sighed, shaking his head and smiling amusedly at the pages of his book. That girl was far too humble for her own good. Chica fluffed her feathers out, frowning sourly in his direction. "...But the others seem to like it. We can eat like humans, you know. We just turn it into...oh...what did you call it that time, Freddy?" she demanded, puzzlement creeping its way onto her face. The bear didn't even lift his blue eyes from the text of his book. "Bio-fuel," he supplied helpfully. "Oh!" she chirped. "Right! Bio-fuel!"

Chica always became particularly chatty when she was nervous, so that wasn't a good sign...but the fact that she lingered instead of immediately shuffling away and leaving Mike to his own devices was promising, at the very least. The resident female clasped her hands together happily when the human declared that her pizza tasted not just fine, but good. "Really?!" "Yes, really," Freddy quipped from across the room, silently turning a page. "You don't give yourself nearly enough credit, Chica." An offended noise escaped her and she completely ignored her good friend's words, instead turning back to face the night guard. "Take the rest of it home," she offered with ease. "Foxy really likes my cooking, so you can share it with him if he starts behaving like a menace."

...Which happened quite often. Foxy was the most destructive out of all of them. He wasn't exactly the gentle type, nor was he careful with objects (or people) that held no sentimental value to him. To make matters worse, that lethal weapon situated at the end of his right arm meant that one careless swing of that arm could result in a smashed object, an upturned piece of furniture, or even (as one past night guard unfortunately found out) partial decapitation.

When the human moved off to continue working, Chica immediately raised a hand, as if she was going to offer to help...but the feeling of eyes boring into her back stopped her in her tracks. She swiveled her head to frown at Freddy, who was simultaneously drumming his fingers absently on the hard cover of his book and staring her down. "Let the night guard do his job," he drawled, flipping another page. Chica huffed, but instantly obeyed, backing off further. She thudded off in the direction of the kitchen once more, eager to clean up the equally challenging mess she herself left in there. While she was indeed a fantastic chef, she was also a bit clunky and ungraceful in her movements...and that meant she made mistakes, broke things, and dropped stuff on a regular basis.

At ten to six, Freddy closed his book softly and rose from his seat, heading toward the small storage space behind the stage to stow it away again. Chica emerged from the kitchen, as well, and even though she could tell that the night guard's smile wasn't genuine she returned it anyway. A noncommittal grunt (from Foxy) and a threatening growl (from Bonnie) were all Mike received off the bat when he approached Pirate Cove. It took the dynamic duo five whole minutes to emerge from behind the curtain, with Foxy leading the charge. "You're not really gonna go with that skinny thing, are you?" Bonnie whined, stomping a little faster so he blocked the pirate's path. Foxy smacked him in the side with his hook, earning him a satisfying squeaking sound from the rabbit. "Gotta. Ain' got no choice in th' matter. Go on, git!" He chased a sulking Bonnie all the way to the stage, holding his hook high. "Get to steppin'! An ancien' granny could move faster than ye!" "Hey!" Bonnie snapped, clearly offended--on stage, Chica sputtered with laughter and Freddy chuckled quietly. Only when the hulking bunny was securely in his spot onstage did Foxy trudge his way toward the night guard, purposely dragging his feet.

Reminiscent of last night, Foxy was totally silent as they left the pizzeria, his gaze turned upward. He was apparently fascinated with the sky. And why wouldn't he be? He never got to see it! He climbed into the van without a single protest this time around, though he once again refused to lay down completely. He kept his body hidden from view, but his face pressed up nosily against the window, watching the world whiz by. He didn't seem to like the tarp too much--he growled as he wound it around his body and he dragged his feet loudly on the stairs in an attempt to punish Mike.

Once in the apartment, Foxy stood by the door awkwardly, sharp golden optics sweeping over the place and really looking at it for the first time. He was still in the same exact spot by the time the human emerged from the bedroom, clad in different clothing. This time, when Foxy spared a glance at him, those eyes weren't filled with nearly as much hate as before. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Mike was no longer in uniform? He squinted when the human declared that he ought to take the bed, but he didn't immediately take him up on the offer. Instead he stared idly at the shivering lump on the couch. One minute passed with no movement. Then two, and then three.

"Stupid human," Foxy grumbled, striding forward. With little regard for the night guard's comfort, the animatronic strode forward and rapidly scooped him up and off of the couch. With loud clunking footsteps, the old fox jogged from the living room into the bedroom, where he plopped the obviously ill human down onto the bed. Instead of heading back out to the couch, which was probably the most comfortable object in the entire apartment aside from the bed, Foxy did a 180 and strode right into the closet, slamming the doors shut behind him. Evidently, he felt more comfortable in a dark and confined space.
 
Mike had taken cold medicine when he was changing in the bathroom and so he was knocked right out. This always happened when he took medicine though: he either passed out or he becomes slightly loopy. This time it was the former and so when Foxy scooped Mike up less than gently, all the human did was frown slightly and shift in the fox's arms for a few seconds before he settled down. He didn't even stir when loud clunking footsteps suggested Foxy was heading towards the bedroom nor when the animatronic set him down onto the bed. Mike simply remained curled up in a little ball, shifting until he was able to bury his face in his pillow. And thus he didn't move for several hours.

He woke up at around noon feeling like he had been run over by a train. His throat felt like he had tried to gargle with nails, every bone ached, his head felt like it was beating in time with his heart and he was freezing. He managed to stumble his way out of bed though he nearly careened right into the door trying to go through it. He snagged his phone from where he had set it on the counter and dialed the managers phone. He managed to rasped out in a voice that was barely there that he wasn't feeling very well and that he couldn't make it into work. The manager didn't like seeing as they didn't have another night guard to take Mike's place in his absence though the man grudgingly complied that one night couldn't hurt but that he expected Mike to be back at work the next night.

Mike hung up and set his phone back onto the counter. As he turned to go back to bed, his eyes caught sight of the couch. His brow furrowed. He had fallen asleep on the couch so how had he woken up on the bed? Foxy couldn't have...No, that was silly. Foxy wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole. Mike must have been half-asleep and staggered to bed in spite of what he told the Fox. He hoped Foxy wasn't angry at him for booting him off the bed. He was still breathing so that was a good sign at least. There was only one other place the Fox would be provided he hadn't run away and so Mike walked over to the closet on less than steady legs.

He peeked into the closet and was relieved to see red fur peeking at him from the darkness. He shut the door softly and spoke in a quiet, scratchy voice. "I'll drop you off at the diner then pick you up before six okay?" Mike mumbled before making his way to the bathroom. He took some more medicine then exited his room. Sick or not, there were still chores to do. Mike made it to the kitchen without running into anything and started loading the dish washer. Once that was done, he contemplated eating something but his stomach protested the very thought and so Mike went and collapsed back onto the bed. He wiggled until she burrowed under his blankets and pillows, the only thing to be seen of him was a tuft of dark brown locks peeking out from the top of the blankets.
 
Foxy stirred the second his sharp ears heard the distinctive sounds of someone stumbling about aimlessly. He lifted his head from his arms, head tilting somewhat to the left to better catch the distant sounds. Mm. Sounded like the night guard wasn't exactly steady on his feet. Why, he wondered? Was he so ill that he couldn't even function properly? The red animatronic rolled his luminous golden orbs, reclining his chin on his arms once more. The inner workings of humans were so ridiculously fragile. At least he didn't have to worry about catching some stupid sickness from Mike--after all, if he found out that he had, he would pummel the man into the ground. If there was one thing Foxy hated more than adult males, and even more than being touched, it was being unable to move when he wanted to. He was easily bored, and he loathed being bored.

He lifted his head and squinted, an irritated snort escaping him, when the night guard peeked his big human face into the closet. Foxy was relieved that Mike chose not to enter the closet. He didn't much appreciate others, but particularly adults, invading his personal space. Freddy was the same way! The old pirate blinked, expression oddly blank, when the night guard muttered that he would simply drop him off at the pizzeria and then pick him up later. He was bamboozled by the human's words, so much so that he wasn't able to utter even a single word before the man went on his way. For a long while Foxy just sat there, scowling off into the darkness. It was only when he distinctly heard the night guard meandering his way back into the bedroom that he stirred again.

Moving slowly and watching out so that he didn't bean his head on any hangers, the aging fox rose to his full height within the closet. He pulled open one door with a loud shunk, staring idly at the human all curled up on that wonderfully soft object. He said nothing for a few long moments, apparently racking his brain for the right words. He didn't exactly want to offend the night guard on his own turf--after all, if the human wanted to, he could just keep him chained up in the closet for the rest of his life.

"Ye ain' takin' me nowhere in tha' condition," was what finally came out. Foxy leaned against the door frame of the closet, scratching halfheartedly at a painful-looking bundle of exposed wires on his chest. "Ye ain' in any state ta be at th' wheel of a ship." ...Ship? Of course. Why would an animatronic fox who was forbidden from leaving the hallowed halls of the pizzeria know anything about cars? "Yeh'll kill both o' us. And this ol' fox ain't havin' none of it." He twitched a bit--the exposed wiring on Foxy's chest didn't seem to appreciate being jostled by his sharp hook, and so a short-lived but terrifying volley of sparks erupted from it. Foxy grunted with pain, rubbing insistently at the spot. He wouldn't admit it out loud, of course, but being in such a repulsive state of disrepair meant that he was also in constant pain.

"Gotta call th' landline at midnight," he muttered, refusing to meet Mike's eyes with his own. "An' keep callin if no one answers. Freddy'll pick up eventually. Tell 'im I ain' comin'." He reached up to carefully readjust his drooping bad ear on the left, which creaked with protest as he did. "He bin watchin' your ilk use th' telephone for years. He knows how ta work that crazy thing."

Freddy was certainly resourceful, it seemed.
 
When the closet door was thrown open, causing it to clatter loudly, Mike twitched on the bed before he froze. When Foxy didn't say anything for several minutes Mike cautiously peeked out at him from his cocoon of blankets and pillows. He blinked to see that fox was just standing there, staring at the human. Mike averted his eyes and stared resolutely at the closet door, remembering what he promised the pirate last night. When Foxy began to speak Mike listened quietly, resisting the urge to peek at the fox. After the animatronic had said his piece Mike lay there quietly before nodding in agreement after his muddled brain managed to work through everything the fox had said. He was surprised that the fox wasn't putting up a big fuss about being stuck in Mike's apartment because Mike was too sick to drive. Mike wanted to argue that he was perfectly fine but the fact that he could barely walk straight kept him quiet.

He hoped the other animatronics would understand though he knew they would blame him because of his weak immune system. Wasn't his fault he got sick easily, gosh dang it. He just hoped Bonnie wouldn't make his face pay for the bunny missing a night with his best friend. However, if Foxy was intent on keeping Mike away from the wheel, then he really couldn't do anything about it. It wasn't like Mike could force Foxy into the car, the fox could probably chuck Mike like a football, dilapidated body or not. Figuring Foxy was done with the conversation, Mike snuggled down into the blankets. "The pizza Chica made me is in the refrigerator if you want it. There are also books if you get bored." Mike muttered, hand slipping out to wave vaguely in the general direction of his book shelf. The books it contained were mostly sappy romances that he would die before letting anyone else know about but his brain was too befuddled with fever that he didn't really know what he had said. But besides the romances there were also a few mysteries as well as a few books about pirates. Mike would never tell Foxy that he had gotten the books because he had been interested in the pirate and that was the reason for the books being there however.

The human let out a small sigh as his breathing evened out and he was out like a light once more. He awoke a few hours later to the sound of knocking coming from his front door. He scrambled out of his bed and quickly told Foxy to hide in the closet before shutting his bedroom door behind him and making his way towards his front door. He gave Foxy time to hide before he opened the door and peeked out. He blinked in surprise upon seeing that Stuart stood there with a smile upon his face. The man's smile widened upon setting eyes on Mike. "You look like hell man." Stuart said as he pushed past Mike and stepped inside. Mike made a few sputtering noises of protest as his wide eyes watched as Stuart headed towards his kitchen. "I heard you were sick so I brought a few things to help you get better." Stuart said when Mike stood there with his mouth agape.

Slowly, Mike closed the front door and padded into the kitchen where he saw Stuart place a plastic bag on the counter and began pulling out items. Soup, cough drops, a box of tissue, and medicine were soon sitting on his counter while Stuart threw the plastic bag away. Mike was still reeling from the fact that Stuart had just waltzed in when he felt a hand pressed against his forehead. He let out a gasp and jerked away at the unexpected contact. "You're feeling a little warm. Do you have a thermometer?" Mike slowly nodded and scurried into the bedroom, making sure to only open the door wide enough for his thin frame to slip through. He raced towards the bathroom then out again before Stuart got the idea to step inside his bedroom.

He handed the small item over to Stuart who promptly stuck it under Mike's tongue. While he waited for the timer to go off, Stuart pulled out a pan and started heating up the soup. Mike stood there slightly awkwardly, not used to someone else moving around his kitchen like they owned it. Or being taken care of for that matter. Due to his unfortunate childhood, Mike had to learn to take care of himself at an early age. Once the beep went off, Stuart took the thermometer and glanced down at the tiny screen. "You have a slight fever but nothing serious. Now go sit on the couch while this is heating up." Mike allowed himself to be shooed out of the kitchen, unaware of Stuart's gaze lingering on his retreating form.

Once the soup was warm and in a bowl, Stuart sat next to Mike and watched him as he ate. Mike, a little unnerved by the unwavering eyes on him, only managed to eat half the bowl before he pleaded full. Stuart took the bowl and stored the rest of the soup in the fridge. "By the way, where's Foxy?" Mike froze at the question before his mind supplied an answer. "I-In the bedroom." "Oh, I'll go say hi." Stuart said as he began heading towards the bedroom. Mike let out a small squeaking sound and bolted in front of the door with his arms out-spread. He chuckled nervously at Stuart's curious look. "U-Um..You don't wanna go in there, it's a complete mess! I-I'll tell him you said hi." Mike tried to keep Stuart's gaze before the man nodded and let Mike walk him to the door. "Feel better, alright?" Mike nodded and gave Stuart what he hoped was a successful smile as the man waved and headed down the stairs.

Mike sighed, closing and locking the door before heading towards the bedroom and promptly collapsing onto the bed. "You can come out now." He told Foxy, voice muffled slightly by the pillow he was currently pressing his face against.
 
The human's offering of the leftover bits of Chica's pizza mildly piqued Foxy's interest--the fox's ears bounced a bit. Chica was right to assume that an offer of her delicious cooking would settle their resident troublemaker down a bit. A bored Foxy was a destructively curious Foxy, after all. If he couldn't find something to do in the apartment, he would inevitably get frustrated...and that frustration might very well lead him outside of the complex against his better judgement. Surprisingly, the books seemed to interest the old pirate more. His head swiveled instantly, his optics refocusing to take in the sight of the full bookshelf. Freddy collected books of all shapes and sizes. Anything he could nick from the humans without causing a stir, he would. And he had no problem lending books out to his family members, either...as long as they were returned in a timely manner.

Freddy Fazbear, the amazing walking library!

He said nothing to the night guard when once again he lulled himself into a comfortable sleep. The red animatronic lingered in the doorway of the closet for several minutes, scratching insistently at that same bundle of exposed wires on his chest. The missing bits of fur on his chest were not a result of natural wear and tear. No, these marks were obtained during a particularly nasty brawl with Freddy. The fox and the bear argued and disagreed on a regular basis. Every once in a while, tempers boiled over and they came to blows. What Foxy lacked in strength compared to Freddy he made up for with his astounding turn of speed. Even so, Freddy was a great deal stronger than him...and these lingering scars were proof of that.

When the pirate finally moved, he clunked his way straight toward the bookcase. He spent some time in front of it, curiously rifling through books. Foxy was surprisingly gentle with these books, in comparison to how roughly he seemed to treat everything else. Years of borrowing books from Freddy, and being throttled if he damaged them, had conditioned him to be painstakingly careful with every book he came across. He balked at the sheer number of cheesy romantic novels stacked on the shelf, and after reading the back of what must have been the twentieth one, he snickered like a teenager reading a Sex Ed. book and snuck a mischievous glance over his shoulder at the slumbering night guard.

Really? This garbage was what he liked to read?

The mysteries didn't seem to interest Foxy all that much, either, but at least he wasn't laughing at that hopeless romantic night guard any longer. It was only when he stumbled across the first pirate-related book that he perked up, snatching it triumphantly from the shelf. He located three more pirate books hidden among the countless sappy romance novels and, his arms full of books, he clanked his way out of the bedroom, not wanting to share space with an adult human any longer than was necessary. Without an ounce of hesitation, Foxy flopped over on his back onto the soft couch, flipping the first book open. He read with wide and unblinking golden optics, understandably fascinated by the subject matter.

Foxy didn't move for several hours, content to just lay there and read to pass the time. He was halfway through the last book when there was a knock at the door. He stiffened, ears standing straight up. He was about to flee to the closet instinctively when the night guard exploded out of the bedroom. Foxy needed no more convincing. With the last book still in hand, the red animatronic leaped from the couch like a frog, quickly disappearing into the bedroom and even more quickly holing himself up in the closet. He huddled himself up in his favorite corner, fur standing on end and ears pricked high, hoping to catch the voice of whoever was at the door.

He vaguely recognized the voice that began conversing with Mike, but for the life of him he couldn't quite place it. When a few minutes passed with no signs of a commotion, Foxy warily opened the book back up and continued reading. Now that his vision wasn't malfunctioning anymore, he could see perfectly in the darkness once again. He was still listening to what was going on outside of the closet, and though he was admittedly distracted by the book, that didn't mean he was distracted enough to miss the sound of his name. He straightened up a bit, eyes narrowing suspiciously. This familiar voice wanted to say hi? What the hell was that all about? Who was this mystery person? A daytime employee?

He burned with curiosity...but he wasn't willing to sneak a peek out of the closet just in case the stranger was still out and about. It was only when he got the green light from the night guard that he poked his head out of the closet, ears perked.

"...'Twas a familiar voice," he muttered sourly, studying the door with a healthy degree of wariness. "Who that be?" The way that other human spoke about greeting him made Foxy uneasy. It suggested that someone other than the management and the night guard suspected that the animatronics were actually totally sentient. And that was not a good thing. That was supposed to be a secret. To protect them from any kind of public exposure.
 
When Foxy's voice spoke up from the closet, Mike sighed and rolled onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. "That was Stuart. He works during the day shift. He's the one that helped me bring you here." Mike replied as he continued to stare up at the ceiling. Not really sleepy anymore, Mike wondered what he could do to pass the time. His television was broken thanks to a certain pirate fox and he contemplated grabbing a book to read. He had just pushed himself into sitting position when there was a knock on the door for the second time that time. Mike sighed and heaved himself up, limping out to the living room on a ankle that was turning purple from having twisted it last night. He shut the bedroom door and made his way over to the door and opened it. He blinked in surprise to see Mrs. Curry standing there.

"Hello Mike dear. It seems the mailman left this in my box by mistake so I just came to give it to you."

She held out a wrinkled envelope and Mike reached out a hand to take it, not looking at the address as his hand dropped to his side. "Thank you Mrs. Curry." Mike made small talk with the woman for a few minutes before she bid him a good day and he waved and shut the door. He wandered back to the bedroom to let Foxy know he could come back out from the closet, words cutting off halfway when his eyes landed on the return address written on the letter in his hand. All the air was punched out of him as the world spun slightly. He sat down onto the bed with a thump, eyes never leaving the object in his hand. He sat there for he didn't know now longer with a dazed look in his eyes. He eventually moved, every motion looking as if he was in pain as he slowly opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.

As his eyes scanned down the letter, his hands clenched with every word he read and by the time he reached the end, Mike was trembling and tears were spilling down his cheeks. No longer able to sit still, Mike sprang to his feet and began pacing, muttering to himself. "How dare they-" Mike choked to himself. He paused and ripped the letter into little pieces, chest heaving up and down. He clenched the pieces in a tight fist and stomped into the bathroom, wishing he could set them on fire but being satisfied with chucking them into the trash as hard as he could. He then threw himself onto the bed with an arm thrown over his eyes, tears still trailing down is cheeks.

Where the hell did they get the audacity to ask him for money?! Maybe if his father wasn't a drunkard and wasted the money his mother made, they would have some! But no, his parents, the same people who made his childhood hell, had the gale to send him a letter asking-no, more like demanding- for money! He was so angry he could scream! But he didn't because 1. It would cause his neighbors great concern and 2. It would probably scare the living daylights out of Foxy. And so Mike laid there as his body trembled and angry tears spilled down his red cheeks.

After a time, Mike stirred and slowly removed his arm from his now dry and red eyes. He rolled out of the bed and shuffled over to his bookcase, standing on his tip toes and reaching up to the very top shelf. Behind some of the more cringe-worthy romance novels, Mike had hidden a thick, leather bound sketch pad. He pulled it down and cradled it to his chest as he turned and shuffled back to the bed, snagging his pencil case off the nightstand as he went. He plopped down and grabbed his thickest blanket, pulling it over his shoulders then over his head slightly so it looked like a hood. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested the heavy books on his legs.

It was thick, filled with more pages than a person could draw on. He had gotten it as a birthday present the very same day as the car crash. It holds the accounts of his childhood, mostly depicted as illustrations though there were a few written entries. It was like a diary of sorts. Most of the drawings were sad, a scared child - himself - being the focal point with a dark shadow that Mike used to describe his father looming in the background. There were even a few drawings of Foxy in there with the rest of the animatronics making a less frequent appearance. There was even one entry where it tells of how Foxy had saved Mike from his father who had been beating him publically at Fazbear's. Mike himself has long since forgotten the details of that day, only knowing in his heart that Foxy had done something kind for him and since there were just so many pages, the entry containing all the details had been lost amid the rest of his writings and drawings.

Seeing as drawing helped calm him down, Mike grabbed a pencil and flipped to a clean page. He didn't really know what he was going to draw, he just let his hand move of its own accord. He was in his own little world at the moment, having completely forgotten about Foxy in his distress at the letter.
 
"Day shift, eh?" Foxy was scratching at that bundle of wires jutting out of his chest gashes again, his eyes slightly narrowed with what eerily resembled pain. Crashing into the wall, hitting his head, and then tussling and rolling around with Bonnie must have jostled those wires, because now they hurt something fierce. He wasn't desperate enough to beg the night guard for help just yet...but at this point, he wasn't likely to say no if Mike offered to take a look at it. He was in constant pain due to his poor condition and, sad as it was, Foxy had become used to being in pain. "Knew I heard tha' voice aroun' the pizzeria someplace..."

The old pirate was leaning against the wall, idly scanning the pages of his book, when his sharp ears caught that second knock on the door. He swiveled his good ear around to better catch the sound, a scowl inching its way onto his face. Really? Another one? "Popular, ain't ye, nigh' guard?" he drawled in an unpleasant taunting voice. With an irritated huff, Foxy turned on his heel and disappeared into the closet, book in hand. At this rate, he would never get to finish it! He plopped down in his cozy corner and flipped it back open, still animatedly scratching at his chest with his hook. Then again...if he did finish this book now, what would he do then? Sit and talk to the human? Pah! Where was the fun in that?

All of a sudden, Foxy perked up, an idea forming in his mind. Hm...maybe that would work. If the night guard proved himself not to be a colossal stick in the mud, that was.

He didn't immediately come out of the closet when Mike called him. In fact, he took his sweet old time getting to his feet, his gaze glued to the final pirate book. The closet door was about halfway open when the human spat out those words. Foxy blinked, poking his head out. Confusion littered his expression as he watched the peculiar night guard have some sort of unprecedented emotional meltdown. He kept his mouth shut, observing silently as the human tore what looked like a letter or some sort of form into itty-bitty pieces and then jumped up, heading for the bathroom. Foxy drummed his fingers against the closet door, still scratching desperately at his chest. He didn't quite understand what was provoking this kind of reaction...

But he could deduce two things. One, it had something to do with that insidious little piece of paper...and two, whatever it was had to be serious.

"Yer leakin', landlubber," he pointed out unnecessarily, one eye wider than the other as he peered at the night guard. Foxy didn't dare to approach the human, not while he was in this unusual and potentially volatile state...that is, of course, until the man rose from the mattress and headed to the shelf stacked high with books. He unearthed a book that Foxy had failed to uncover in his initial sweep of the thing--he grunted with anger, an ear twitching with irritation. He was supposed to be the greatest pirate that ever sailed the seven seas--a natural-born explorer--and he couldn't find that secret book? Old Captain Foxy was losing his touch!

The contents of that little leather book very much interested the aging pirate. At first, Foxy just leaned forward a little more, sniffing the air inquisitively. He was far too curious for his own good, it seemed. The burning need to investigate was evident. The red animatronic emerged fully from the closet at last, taking a few wary steps forward. After deducing that his footsteps were too loud and that they might attract unwanted attention from the night guard, Foxy took to shuffling across the floor instead. He kept on shuffling, craning his neck as far as it would go, until he was just a few short feet away from Mike's covered body. He stood on his tip-toes, studying the book with intense interest. He was silent for a while as he watched the night guard sketching something on the page.

"...Whatcha scribblin' there?"

He was so close to the night guard now that Mike could easily reach out and touch him if he so desired. His childlike curiosity was enough to overwhelm his fear, and most his wariness. "Wanna know somethin', nigh' guard. We be marooned in this rotten tub fer the nigh', aye?" Foxy ground his sharp teeth together, making an ominous scraping sound. "I wanna go outside. Someplace high up. I, ah..." He lowered his head a little. Was he feeling sheepish? "...Wanna see the' stars."
 
Mike was so absorbed in his own little world that he didn't hear when Foxy obviously pointed that Mike was crying nor when the pirate had emerged from the closet and took a few clunky steps towards the human. In fact, he was now staring intently at the piece of paper as he focused on drawing the view of a sunset from the bow of a ship. Mike had never been on a ship before but he had seen movies and using that and his imagination left him with enough to work with. He would color it in later but for now he wanted to get as much detail down as he could. He couldn't figure how he wanted the bow of the ship to look nor how it appeared in the drawing. The sunset was easily enough to draw but the ship prow just felt...off. He couldn't explain it but something was missing. He just couldn't figure out what.

He was so caught up in this that he was taken completely surprise by Foxy standing mere feet from him. Mike let out an odd sound that was a cross between a yelp and a squeak, clenching his sketchpad to his chest and nearly tipping over onto his side in shock. He blinked rapidly a few moments as he peered up at Foxy. His brain then registered that the fox was standing in clear view of what he was drawing and snapped the book shut, holding it protectively to his chest. He never let anyone see his drawings and he wasn't about to start now, especially with an animatronic who could care less about Mike. "N-Nothing!" Came his hurriedly reply to Foxy's question as to what he was drawing. He had completely forgotten about the fox and now he was going to have to find a new hiding place for his sketchpad!

Mike cleared his throat and set the book safely at his side, away from curious paws that might be interested in what be inside. He turned his attention back to Foxy as the pirate spoke up again and was quiet for a few minutes. "Sure. There's an emergency staircase connected to my balcony that leads all the way up to the roof. We can go after I call Freddy tonight." With that, Mike crawled to the other side of the bed since Foxy was standing too close for Mike to be able to stand up without brushing against him. The human made sure to grab his sketchpad and tucked it back into the book shelf before grabbing some jeans and a long-sleeved red t-shirt. He then disappeared into the bathroom and soon the sound of running water filled the quiet room.

After about ten minutes, the water cut off and Mike climbed out and dried off before getting dressed. He toweled his hair off then exited the bathroom amid a rush of steam. He threw his towel into the basket and glanced at the clock. They still had several hours before Mike needed to call Freddy so the night guard headed off to do some laundry and other chores that needed to be done.

Soon the clock hit midnight and Mike called the landline. It rang a few times before Freddy answered to which Mike explained that he was too sick to go to work and Foxy didn't trust him behind the wheel of a car so the fox was willing to stay in for the night. Mike then hung up and pocket his phone. He shrugged on a jacket since it was chilly outside then grabbed two blankets; one for him and one for Foxy. He made sure his front door was locked before gesturing Foxy over to the sliding door that lead out to his tiny balcony. He opened a door once out there that revealed a staircase. Mike turned the flashlight on his phone on so he could see and lead the way up to the roof. He kept the light on long enough for him to lay out a blanket for Foxy to sit or lay on if he wished then laid his own blanket a good foot away from the fox to give the animatronic his personal space.

Mike turned the flashlight off then laid down on the blanket, staring up at the stars. When Mike was younger he used to sneak up to the roof and gaze at the stars, just like this. "I'll take you to the country some time; you can see the stars even more clearly than here." Mike told Foxy softly. He lifted one hand and pointed at the stars, beginning to point out and explain to Foxy which constellations were which. He had just begun when it dawned on him that his voice might be ruining this for the pirate and so he cut off mid-word, hand dropping to his side. The least he could do was give Foxy some peace and quiet. The animatronic probably despised the sound of Mike's voice as it was.
 
Foxy jumped a little bit himself when that most scintillating noise escaped the night guard. For a brief moment he just stared at the frightened human. The pirate began to sputter, and then he burst out into hooting and hollering laughter. He was doubling over, wheezing and clutching at his chest, by the time Mike snapped the book shut and hid his black and white sketch from any prying eyes. Typical mischief-maker, grasping at every possible opportunity to have himself a laugh at someone else's expense. As the night guard would almost certainly learn, Bonnie was the exact same way, though he tended to be a lot less pleasant than his impish buccaneering friend. "Did I scare ye, ye rotten scallywag?" His rough glitchy voice dripped with delight. "Good! Aye, that means Ol' Foxy ain' losin' his touch jus' yet!"

After calming down a little, the red animatronic heaved a satisfied sigh and straightened himself up, still angrily digging at those bothersome wires. "Don' look like nothin', nigh' guard. Aye, it be lookin' like a ship to this Cap'n. But yeh've got it all wrong, ye swab." He squinted at the now-closed book, reaching up to readjust his metal eye patch. It make an awful creaking sound as he did so--it definitely needed some maintenance, much like the rest of Foxy. "Ain'tcha ever seen a pirate ship before, ye airhead? It be missin' a figurehead." No self-respecting pirate captain would allow his ship to leave port without a proper figurehead! No sirree! A fancy figurehead was a sign of wealth and status, and a way for captains to tell each others' ships apart at sea!

Foxy's squeaky tail began to wag back and forth after Mike agreed to his request. He didn't bother poking fun at him this time, and as a reward for the human bowing to his demands, he also left the little leather book alone, even though he now knew exactly where it was hidden. Instead he disappeared into the closet once more, closing the door behind him with a quiet shunk, and settled into his corner again, book in hand. He was determined to finish it before the human came calling and took him to see the stars. He didn't understand why...but the mental picture he took of those stars in the night sky simply wouldn't leave him alone. He had to see them again. They were beautiful. Some of the prettiest things he'd ever seen!

Four rings. That was all it took for Freddy to pick up. He must have sensed that something was wrong after the night guard failed to show up for his scheduled shift. "I'm assuming that it was Foxy who requested that you call." Hushed whispering broke out in the background. Bonnie and Chica were obviously listening in. "Sound advice, on his part. Bonnie was on the verge of panicking when you never showed." "I was not!" the rabbit snapped, clearly embarrassed. Chica's lilting laughter carried through the connection. "Remember to keep him occupied, night guard," Freddy reminded him in that ever-calm voice of his. "If you fail to do so...he may very well drive you insane." "Actually, I hope he does!" Bonnie shouted, just before Freddy hung up the line as well.

He just had to have the last word, didn't he?

Foxy emerged from the bedroom when he heard the front door locking...or unlocking--he wasn't entirely sure. He only poked his head out at first, but when the human motioned for him to follow, the old pirate clanked his way through the apartment. He kept his distance, though. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the night guard's presence, but actually not minding being in the same vicinity as him was a promising step. Foxy blinked as he stepped out onto the balcony...and then he darted forward, peering curiously over the edge. He spent a full minute there, staring out into the distance and, with rapt fascination, watching cars whiz by on a distant road. It took quite a bit of effort for Foxy to force himself away from the balcony railing. He trailed after Mike, navigating the stairs carefully.

Once his blanket was laid out, Foxy eased himself onto it, immediately falling back and gazing wide-eyed up at the starry night sky. Initially, he didn't appreciate the night guard ruining this wonderful moment...but then he listened a bit more closely. A trip to the countryside sounded exciting...but frightening at the same time. The matter of the different patterns in the sky, however, instantly snagged his attention. He lifted his head a bit, ears pricked up as high as they would go. "Why'd ye shut yer gob?" he demanded, sounding almost angry about it. "Keep yappin'! I wanna know more!"
 
Mike was sure that Foxy was happy when he shut up and so the man was taken off guard when the fox turned towards him and demanded he continue. Mike glanced over at the fox in surprise, blinking in the dark. Seeing as there wasn't light up on the roof and they were far enough away from the street lamps, all Mike could really see of the pirate were his glowing, golden optics. However, he knew that just because he couldn't see, didn't mean Foxy couldn't. He was fairly sure the fox could see perfectly in the darkness that surrounded them, which meant he could see Mike looking at him. Mike shifted on his blanket to try and find a more comfortable spot on the hard ground before turning his attention back up to the stars reeled above them.

He lifted his hand once again and began tracing out each constellation in the night sky with a finger. He then named the constellation before he then went on to explain what the constellation represented and the myth behind it. Mike pointed out the three constellations that made up Argo Navis, a ship. Since Foxy was interested in ships and seas, Mike thought he might like that one the best. Mike didn't know how to feel about this. The moment could almost be described as....peaceful...Mike used to lay up here at night sometimes and say the constellations to himself and now here was, sharing them with an animatronic that didn't care an ounce about Mike.

One star caught Mike's attention and he pointed at it. "That's Polaris, the North Star. It will always show you which direction is north so you can use it if you ever get lost." Mike didn't know why he pointed it out to Foxy but he felt a little bit better with the knowledge that if the robot ever got lost he would at least know which was direction was which. He then went on to point out which constellations marked east, west, and south and how to find them in the night sky. The fox may not want to know about any of this but Mike felt better knowing that if Foxy got lost he would be able to find his way home. Mike then fell silent, feeling like he had talked to fox's ear off.

As Mike lay there staring up at the bright lights above him, he wished he could be up there. There would be no pain or fear, no complicated emotions. He would simply be. He would guide people who where lost and he would finally be apart of something great, instead of being a burden for everyone else. And with him up there, people would never forget about him and he wouldn't be able to hurt anyone like he always seems to have a habit of doing. "Some believe that stars are loved ones that have passed on. I wonder if he's up there?" Mike murmured almost to himself, the stars reflecting in his blue orbs. If Finn was up there, Mike could only imagine how angered Finn was at him. Mike was the reason the little boy didn't get to live to see his sixth birthday after all.

Why did he have to hurt everyone around him? Would it be better for everyone if he didn't exist?
 
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