"Well, I told him- I-I didn't mean it literally- I was- It was supposed to be a figure of speech," Bon-Bon panicked, shaking his hands around wildly. "I--"
"Bon-Bon quit with the yappin' and tell us what's wrong," Foxy snapped, tapping his foot impatiently.
"What's with all the screaming?" Freddy poked his head out of the Breaker Room.
"You seem unusually happy all of a sudden," Foxy commented, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.
"Why wouldn't I be happy?" he chuckled, stepping out beside Bon-Bon.
"Because of- . . . (Y/N)," Baby replied hesitantly.
"Who?" Freddy tilted his head in confusion.
"That!" Bon-Bon blurted, pointing his finger at him.
"Oh, ha ha. Very funny, Freddy," Foxy sneered, glaring at him.
"Hush, Foxy. It could just be a coping mechanism," Ballora pointed out quietly.
"It was supposed to be, but- . . . His thoughts are the exact same thing. Either he's a really good actor, or--" Bon-Bon stopped himself, biting his tongue.
"You said you told him something. What did you tell him, Bon-Bon?" Ballora inquired.
"I told him to forget about her," Bon-Bon told her and the others hastily.
"Why would you tell him that?" Baby retorted, squinting.
"Looks like you got your wish, then."
"No, that's not- Like I said, I didn't mean it literally. I wanted him to take it figuratively."
"Shouldn't you be able to make him remember? You two do share memories, yes?" Ballora suggested, tilting her head sympathetically.
"We do, but I don't kn- . . . If (Y/N) ever comes back, I don't want her to blame me for making him forget," Bon-Bon muttered, lowering his head.
"Aw, cheer up, buddy!" Freddy exclaimed, wrapping his arm around Bon-Bon's shoulders.
"Maybe we can remind him. If he goes outside, maybe he'll remember who allowed us to do that," Foxy considered, pointing up.
"Hopefully," Bon-Bon mumbled to himself.
"I'll head up first," Baby offered, stepping up onto Ballora's stage and on her podium.
She looked up, waiting for a few seconds. She hummed, looking down, then shifted into her animatronic form. She waited again, but grunted when nothing happened.
"Is it not working?" Ballora asked as Baby changed back into a human.
"It's not. I don't--"
"Why?"
"If I knew that, Foxy, I'd be able to fix it and go up."
"And if it was something that you couldn't fix." Foxy folded his arms and glared at her.
"I doubt--"
"Why don't we use the elevator instead?" Ballora interrupted the argument.
"I'm- . . . I can't control it. I have no control over anything. I can't do anything," Baby started to panic.
"It's okay." Ballora comforted her, putting a hand on her back.
"Allow me to fill this somewhat frightening silence with some light-hearted banter. Due to the--"
"Who's Hand-Unit talking to?" Bon-Bon scratched his head.
"(Y/N)?" Foxy blurted, internally praying.
"I'm not sure, but we should get back to our stages."
"What do you mean? We don't need to hide anymore."
"I know, I just have a bad feeling. You can head into Funtime Auditorium; Ballora, you can stay in here, since it's your gallery; Freddy, Bon-Bon, stay in the Breaker Room; I'll make my way into my gallery."
The others nodded in agreement. They headed their own ways.
~ ~ ~ ~
"It was William's son," Ballora told you.
"Wait, William actually had a son?" you asked, looking up.
"Yeah. We tried to leave the place, but we couldn't. The only person that could go in and out, was Michael. We had to--"
"We took his skin!" Freddy interrupted Foxy cheerfully. "We used the scooper to scoop out his insides, and then me, Foxy, Ballora, and Baby combined so we could all fit inside."
"Oh . . . Why didn't you guys just ask Michael to let you out?" you pointed out.
"He wouldn't listen to us. He was talking about needing to free his sister."
"But I thought I already did that."
"We tried to tell him that."
"But then- Hey! I found it!" you announced, pulling out the papers.
"Found what?"
"Evidence."
"Can I kill him now?" Freddy gushed.
"No. I need to call Savannah, though."
"Why?"
"To ask her to pick me up and drive me over to the pizzeria."
~ ~ ~ ~
You stared out the glass doors, watching as Savannah backed out of her parking spot. You waved to her when she looked over to you, and she waved back. You waited for her to leave. You felt a tug at your pants and looked down to see Helpy.
"Hey, little dude," you chuckled, rubbing his head as if he had hair to ruffle.
"I'm surprised you're here so early," James commented.
"Mhm," you hummed--you hadn't said a word in reply to him since you got to the pizzeria.
"Hey . . . Is something wrong?"
" 'Is something wrong?' " Foxy mocked as you glanced back to James.
"Why would something be wrong, James?" you asked passive-aggressively.
"I don't know, but you seem upset," James replied, slowly walking up behind you.
He put his hand on your shoulder, as if to comfort you. You reeled back your arm as you turned around, then punched him in the face as hard as you could. Helpy jumped and put his hands to his mouth in response. James stumbled back onto the floor, wincing and holding his cheek.
"What the hell was that for?" James hissed, looking up at you.
"You fucking lied to me, you asshole," you barked, digging your nails into your palms as you clenched your fists.
"You tell him, (Y/N)," Foxy encouraged you smugly.
"Okay, fine, I did eat the last of the pizza rolls, but that's no reason to punch me!" he snapped.
"Wh- First of all, those were mine. Go buy your own god damn pizza rolls! Second, that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the god damn animatronics!" you growled; you could feel moving in your hair, but you didn't care at the time.
James widened his eyes. "Wha- What are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb with me, you shithead! You lied to me about the animatronics! You took advantage of me." You gritted your teeth, tears running down your cheeks.
"You did imagine them, (Y/N). You dreamt them when you were in that coma." James slowly stood up, putting his hand on your shoulder.
"DON'T LIE TO ME! And don't fucking touch me." You pulled away from him.
"(Y/N), calm down. Do you remember what the doctor told you? You had a 'traumatic head injury.' "
"Maybe so, but that didn't make me imagine them, James. I know they're real. You want to know how I know?"
James nodded, and you pulled out the folded papers that were in your back pocket. You handed them to James, putting a fist on your hip. He unfolded them, glancing up to see your stern look.
"What are they?" James asked.
"One's the hospital discharge papers. You remember how you said that I was in there for a few months? Yeah, these say otherwise: I was only in the hospital for about a week," you explained bitterly, glaring at him.
"I mean, I was just over-exaggerating. It wasn't actually a few months, it just felt like it. I thought you would never wake up." An obvious excuse.
"Okay, and the other's about my car. The one I used to have. The one I bought with the money I made. You took that from me."
"It was way too broken up to fix, so they sent it to the scrap yard. There wasn't really anything I could do about that."
"But why didn't you tell me and give me my money back?"
"I'll take the blame for that one, but none of these are 'evidence' that you didn't dream the animatronics."
"Fine, then. How about the fact that I'm fucking talking with them right now? You got some shitty excuse for this one?" You unplugged the earplugs and held up your phone, turning up the volume.
"Did you miss us, fucklord?" Foxy snarled.
". . . Okay, fine, I did lie to you! Is that what you want to hear?" James snapped.
"Why?" you growled, glaring at him through blurry vision.
"Someone's pants are on fire!" Freddy sang.
"Maybe not now, but they definitely will be when I light his ass up," Foxy ranted.
"Foxy, that's weird," Ballora commented.
"What the f- I didn't mean it that way, Ballora!"
You grunted, plugging your earbuds back in to keep them at bay. You stuck one of them in to hear them continue to ramble, then looked up to James, waiting for a response.
"I lied to protect you, (Y/N)! You were 'friends' with murderous animatronics!"
"They weren't murderous."
"You told me that they were made to kill. I didn't want you to end up getting hurt."
"I've been engaged for five fucking, years! I trusted you, James. You made me think I was crazy, and you made the animatronics think I hated them."
"It was for a good reason."
"And you made Freddy- . . . YOU MADE FREDDY FORGET ABOUT ME!" you bellowed, punching him again--though much harder than last time.
James stumbled over once more. You felt a tug on your pants again. You looked down to Helpy to see a sad expression on his face. You scrunched your eyebrows, starting to calm down.
"Jesus-fucking-Christ, (Y/N)! Calm down, damn it! You're going to kill me!"
"Did someone say kill?"
Freddy suddenly burst through the door to the office. He quickly clawed his way towards you and James. James flinched, attempting to crawl back.
"Freddy, no! I told you, I don't want you to kill him." You stepped between him and James, blocking him.
A wire wrapped around your waist, making you tense up. It dragged you towards Freddy, your shoes sliding under you. He calmly grabbed your phone, took the card from the bottom of it, then stuck it back in his arm.
"What the hell . . . is that?" James stammered.
Foxy--you could tell by the eye color--looked over your shoulder, glaring at James. The wire started to unravel from around your waist. Foxy let Freddy take control, their eye turning orange. You were spun around as Freddy suddenly started towards James.
You quickly regained your balance and jumped after them. You grabbed Freddy's arm, attempting to pull him away. A cable grabbed your wrist and twisted your arm around.
"O-ow," you winced, standing on your toes.
They stopped, and your arm was slowly lowered back down. "Freddy, you don't-on't fucking, hur-hurt her. "
The cable slid up your arm, gently rubbing your shoulder and alleviating the pain. It stopped, then started patting your shoulder. You looked up just as they grabbed James by the throat and lifted him into the air.
"Stop!" you blurted, making them turn to look at you.
"A-am I-I hurting you-ou?" Freddy worried, the cable moving away from you.
"N- I mean- Yes! You are hurting me!" you raved, stomping your foot.
"Oh, I-I'm s--"
"I was talk-ing about physic-sically on-ly," Foxy interrupted him, huffing. "Why do-o you e-even care, an-anyway-ays?"
Foxy snarled and glared at you as he slammed James against the wall. James wheezed, the air being knocked out of him.
"Because . . . I like his daughter--Emily--and I don't know how to keep this place up and running on my own!" you told him; James gave you a look of offense.
"I won't be-be killing his daugh-aughter, and you c-ca-an figure i-it out," he retorted, then turned to James again.
"Foxy!"
He looked back at you. You held his eye contact, shuffling to stand in front of him. His grip around James's neck loosened some.
You placed your hand on his arm. "Don't, please."
Foxy glanced to your hand. You saw James open his mouth, and you shot him a look that said "Don't say a damn word, you'll only make it worse." You quickly redirected your attention back to Foxy.
"He- . . . was just trying to protect me," you tried to reason with him--tears formed in your eyes. "He . . . didn't understand. He knew you were made to kill, and he was afraid it'd happen to me. He didn't understand that you have control over it now."
Foxy looked down, thinking to himself. He slowly lowered James back to the ground. His eyes moved over to him, a sternful questioning look on his face--despite minimal features. James looked to you, and you stared at him, slowly nodding your head and telling him to do so. James quickly nodded as he looked back at Foxy.
"Fi-ine." Foxy released him. "But if-if you t-ry anyth-thing, I won't hesita-ate to--"
"We get it, Foxy," you interrupted him, scoffing.
Foxy grunted, glaring at you. James moved away from him, backing away quickly.
"I'm taking back my stuff, just so you know. And I'm taking your truck to get over there, because it's only fair," you told him. "Foxy, Freddy, Ballora, you're coming with me."
"Yay-ay!" Freddy cheered.
"Why?" Foxy questioned.
"Yeah, huh, I won-wonder why-y (Y/N) wouldn't want-ant to l-leave us-us alone with Ja-ames," Ballora mused sarcastically.
You stuck your hand out to James. "I need the keys. Unless you're cool with me hotwiring your truck."
"Here. I'd rather you didn't."
James took his keys from his pocket and dropped them into your hand. You nodded, turning on your heels. You gestured for Foxy to follow you, patting Helpy's head as you passed by him, and earning a smile from him. Foxy gave James a glare before doing so.