A chill ran up your spine as a voice lurked in the shadows of the vent. "It's been a while, hasn't it."
"Afton," you growled, your hair lifting off your shoulders.
"Now," he began, starting to crawl out of the vent, "I can understand if you would despise me, but--"
"You bastard!" you roared. "I'll kill you!"
You jumped towards him, making his eyes widen. Before you could get close to him, Baby grabbed you by the throat and slammed you against the wall, holding you there.
"I can't let you do that, (Y/N)," Baby mumbled monotonously.
"Ba-aby, what-at the hell?" Foxy snapped.
Foxy pried Baby's hand away, pushing her away from you. You knelt over, coughing and rubbing your neck. He stood in front of you, blocking her from you.
"Thank you," William sighed in relief.
"Don't push it," Baby growled quietly, not bothering to look at him.
"Agh, what's with you people and my neck?" you wondered snarkily.
"Yeah-eah. You kind of-of have s-some explaining to-o-o do," Foxy added, glaring at Baby.
"I'm sorry. I can't let you hurt him, though."
"Why not?"
"Because . . . I just can't," Baby trailed off, averting her eyes from you.
"Are you on his side now? You traitor!" you raved.
"No, I'm not on his side. He's Elizabeth's father."
"Why does that matter?"
"She doesn't want me to."
". . . Wait, what? I thought Elizabeth was freed . . . when I pulled you- . . . out of yourself," you sputtered, still a bit confused as to how it had originally happened.
"I thought so too, until I heard her in the back of my head. We only trapped her further," Baby explained.
". . . Ba-aby, why didn't you-ou tell us?" Ballora mumbled sadly.
"Oh my god." You held your head as you looked down, your eyes wide. "She's been trapped this whole time?"
"I'm sorry. Everyone was just so happy. I didn't want to ruin it."
"As I was saying--" You growled and squinted as you slowly looked up at William. "I can understand if you would despise me, but I need your help."
"You need my help? You think I'd fucking help you? After what you did to me?" you boomed, your eyes narrowing.
"(Y/N), calm down," Ballora muttered, putting her hands on your shoulders.
"I-- Hmmgh!" you groaned.
You closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose. William let you calm down some, and Ballora pulled her hands from you. You took in a deep breath, then exhaled it.
"What in God's name would you need my help with?" you questioned, biting your tongue.
"It's my son, Michael. He found me," William told you.
"And?" You raised an eyebrow, a blank expression on your face.
"He wants to get rid of me."
"Yeah, that makes two of us."
"And your friends here," William added, seeming to be trying to convince you.
"Alright, which corner of your ass did you pull this one from?" you jeered, making Foxy snicker. "You really trying to tell me Michael's the bad guy here?"
"Not necessarily. I'm just trying to tell you that if you don't want to lose your friends again, you need to get rid of him."
"Okay, sure. We'll see. If he starts to act like he wants to kill all of us, I'll kick him out. Until then, I don't want to see your face again."
William nodded, taking the hint. He crawled back into the vents, making you start to wonder how long he had been in there. You then realized: he was the second animatronic you salvaged. He was the one that said "I remember you," and "You may not recognize me at first, but I assure you, it's still me." He had been in the vents before you had even reunited with Baby and Molten Freddy.
"That bastard," you snarled, your fists clenching into balls.
"He-e's not worth y-your time," Foxy sneered as he put his hand on your shoulder, snapping you out of your current homicidal thoughts.
"I know," you grunted, brushing your hair back down. "The thought of him just pisses me off."
You heard a notification from your phone, making you look back. You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, looking at what it was. It was a message from James, replying to your previous text.
Okay. Don't hesitate to call me if you need any help. I may not be able to make it as early as Michael, though. Emily wasn't feeling the best this morning
"Oh no," you mumbled under your breath.
As you opened it to reply, you saw that Michael had already sent his own: I hope she feels better soon
Is she still up?
Yeah, are you going to call?
Yep
You pulled up his contact and called his home phone. It took a few rings for him to pick up.
"Thought so," he hummed, chuckling.
"Lemme talk to my Emmy," you ignored him.
"Right . . . Emily, someone wants to talk to you."
"Who is it?"
"You'll have to find out."
"Hello?" Emily's voice sounded somewhat raspy.
"Hi, Emmy!" you gushed, a grin on your face.
"(Y/N)!" Emily cheered weakly.
"How are you feeling?" you wondered, sitting down in the office chair.
"Poopy," she mumbled a reply.
"Why is it poopy?" you asked, trying to hold back a snicker.
"My head hurts, and my nose is stuffy, and I'm tired," she told you, making you tap your chin.
"Hmm . . ." You hummed, thinking for a moment. "Does your chest hurt? Or are you having trouble breathing?"
You heard Emily take in a deep breath then let it out. "No, not really."
"Okay, good! So, what'cha doin'?" you chuckled, leaning back in your chair.
"I'm watching TV."
"Ooh, what are you watching?"
"Sesame Street!"
"(Y/N), should-ouldn't you be--"
Foxy stopped himself, seeing as you weren't paying attention to him or anyone else anymore. He sighed, realizing that it was going to be a while before you got off the phone. He rolled his eyes as he left the office.
~ ~ ~ ~
"Hey, Emmy, do you know what happened to that one teacher? The one you said had to be carried out on a . . . surfboard?" you wondered, trying to recall what she had called it.
"Ms. Green? The principal told me she had a bad 'ass-ma' attack--"
Your eyes widened as you nearly choked on air, "Emmy, no--"
"What did you just say?" you heard James in the background.
"What? What happened?" Emily worried.
"I think you meant to say 'asthma' attack! Not- Not the other thing!" you exclaimed, on the verge of tears from laughing too hard.
"Oh, yeah! That's what he said: Ms. Green had a bad asthma attack--"
"Oh." You heard James sigh in relief. "Jeez."
". . . What's a asthma attack?" she questioned, humming.
"Well, asthma is something some people have that doesn't let them breathe properly. And a bad asthma attack is when their asthma gets bad, and they can barely breathe . . . Or something like that, I'm not a doctor," you trailed off, scratching the back of your neck.
"Oh, that sounds bad--"
"Hey, I'll be on my way in just a second, (Y/N). Did you get everything over there ready?" you heard James ask.
Realizing that you hadn't yet set up the chairs, too distracted talking to Emily. "Oh, shi- . . . I mean: shoot dang it."
"I'll take that as a 'No,' " James sighed, snickering.
"I did," Foxy stated, crossing his arms and huffing.
"Huh?" you looked over at him, registering what he said for a moment. "Wh- You set up the chairs?"
"Yeah, I-I took care-are of it while you were 'bu-u-usy,' " he sneered and rolled his eyes.
"And everything else?"
"Yep."
"Oh . . . Thank you," you mumbled bashfully as you scratched the back of your neck. "Um, yeah, James, everything's ready over here."
"Oh- Okay, I'll see you soon, then--"
"Emily," Savannah called from the background, "I think it's time you say 'goodbye' to (Y/N). You need to get some rest, hon."
"What, but I'm--"
"You can't tell me you're not tired. I can tell by your voice and face."
"Aww, okay," Emily pouted some. "I have to go to bed, (Y/N). Can we play later?"
"Only if you're not feeling too bad," you assured her, smiling. "I'll see you later, Emmy."
"See you later, (Y/N)!" Emily exclaimed cheerfully.
As you hung up, you looked over to Foxy. He still had his arms crossed and was looking away. You cleared your throat softly as you put your phone back in your pocket. He glanced over to you.
"Hey, um, thank you, for doing that for me," you stammered nervously, averting your ears.
"Pfft- I- . . . I-I-I didn't do tha-at for you!" Foxy snapped defensively, making you look up at him. "If-if I had-adn't done it, we-e would've had to r-rush to do every-thing when you realized that-at you were babbling-ing too much! I-I mean, it was Fre-eddy that did it, any-way, so- . . . I-I didn't do it-it for you."
"Yeah, but you-ou were the one th-that went out-out there with the intent to-o do it for her," Freddy butted in, snickering.
"Wha- Sh-shut the fuck up-up-up, Freddy!"
"Al-so, the only rea-son Freddy did it was-as because he begged to, and you-ou decided to let him do it," Ballora added, making you cover your mouth to hide your smile.
"Bo-o-oth of you shut the f-fuck up!" Foxy snapped, throwing up his hands. "I'll kill-ill both of you-ou!"
"Th-that means you'd have-ave to kill yourself, th-then, and we-e all know your sen-ense of self-worth is way-ay too big for that!" Freddy pointed out, making you burst out in laughter.
"(Y/N), don-on't you- God-od damn it! I-I-I will-ill burn thi-is whole place down, d-d-damn you!"