*Announces that Another Side is getting a rewrite, and that I plan to pump out a chapter every few days*

*Three months pass since the last update*

*Sweating profusely while staring into a mirror: "F***. I can't believe you've done this."*

Joking aside, hey everyone! Thanks so much for coming back. I hope you've been keeping well. Just a quick note; this update merges chapters 5 and 6 to create a more consistent update length.

Enjoy!

I stayed in my office with both doors closed until well after the end of my shift. Since I hadn't been using power through most of the night, I still had plenty to spare by the time that the morning bells rang out. It was only then that I opened my doors, though I didn't leave the room. Instead, I sat and listened on as distant music became gradually more overpowered by the voices of Freddy's visitors. Usually I would have been eager to leave, but there was just too much to think about.

I had spent the previous night running in fear from animatronics who were out for my blood, only to have another save my life… Or at least save me from copious blood loss. That fact brought with it a myriad of other questions; why did it help me, and did its help mean that not every animatronic was a bloodthirsty killer? Speaking of the others, why did they go back to their stage before six when they were supposedly set to free roam all night? Looking my wounds over, I also couldn't help but wonder whether or not I should return for another shift. If I did, I risked subjecting myself to more injuries like these… But what if I didn't come back? Would I have enough money to get by?

I sighed and rubbed a finger over one of my bandages, tracing the red streak in the center from the cut in my palm. I shivered at the memory of Bonnie trying to pull me out of the vents before shaking the thought and shifting my attention downward. After lifting my shirt up, I could see that the makeshift stitches were still holding up surprisingly well, though I knew that I would have to have them replaced with actual sutures before long. As for my ankle… Well, while it wasn't the prettiest splint that the world had ever seen, it was surprisingly effective at keeping my ankle fixed in one spot, to such a degree that I was even able to run on it the night prior without anything coming loose.

That aside, I couldn't help but sigh at seeing my own rough condition. I was in bad shape, though it would have been much worse had I not been patched up. Everything that had happened over the last several hours still had my mind buzzing with questions regarding the animatronics, though I knew that I couldn't hang around the office forever to think things through. I would need to rest if I was to survive my next shift- a challenge made all the more daunting by the state I was in. I stood from my seat with a wince before gingerly crossing to my right door. I didn't leave, though, before shooting one last look at the opposite hall… The one leading to Pirate Cove.

"Thanks, Foxy…" I whispered to the empty room, the gratitude in my chest putting a ghost of a smile on my face.

With that as my resignation for the night, I set off down the hall. As I moved, I struggled to turn my awkward hobbling into a natural walk- and while I couldn't quite achieve that effect, I managed to lessen my limping enough that I was comfortable with being seen.

It was only once I spotted a restroom that my self-conscious mind was diverted from my ankle. I figured that I should stop inside to check on myself in the mirror before entering the public eye, just in case there was some other horrifying injury that I wasn't aware of.

I looked into the mirror as soon as I entered the restroom, and it was immediately made clear to me that last night had taken its toll on my body. Aside from my hands, stomach, and ankle, there was also a sizable bruise on my forehead beneath my hair- which was as messy as I had ever seen it, disheveled from the night's events and caked with sweat.

"Oh, man…"

I crossed over to the sink and lifted my bangs to inspect the bruise more closely. It didn't look particularly serious, and was likely the product of my fall, or otherwise banging my head off the vents while fleeing from the animatronics. There was nothing I could really do other than cover it up, so I wet down and tamed my hair until the mark was concealed.

After a while my hair fell as it usually did, and aside from a few stray grazes peppered across my skin, my face looked normal- albeit a bit tired. I stared back into the hazel eyes of my reflection for a long moment, reconsidering my job for the umpteenth time before shaking the thought and turning back for the hallway.

It wasn't a long walk from there to the bustling entrance area. Families big and small were flocking into the building, children laughing and running amok while their parents were being seated and waited on within the sea of tables. I smiled to myself as nostalgia washed over me- I could still remember the excited wonderment that accompanied a childhood trip to Freddy's. Unfortunately, given the events of the past few nights, I doubted that I would ever see this place in a positive light again.

"Alright folks, welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza!" A deep voice boomed out in a welcoming tone that cut through the murmur of the customers.

"A fun place for everyone- even the grown-ups!" A much softer female voice added on.

"Hey, and don't forget the pizza!" Another feminine voice said, its chirpy cadence followed by a round of childlike laughter.

I paused in my walk toward the front doors. I guess there must be a show going on right now.

Sure enough, when I turned to look in the direction of the voices, I found that they were coming through the wide doorway that led into the show room. Despite the dread that accompanied the thought of my hunters, I felt a curious urge to peek in and watch them perform. I wanted to know what they were like during the day, when this weird glitch of theirs wasn't propelling them to murder people. I looked from the main entrance of the building back to the show room before shrugging. What I was about to do probably wasn't the brightest idea I'd ever had, but what harm could really come from it? I slipped my bandaged hands into my pockets and altered my course.

I slowed to a stop in the show room's doorway and leaned against a wall, hardly paying attention to the children who rushed into the room from beside me. I was much more interested in the jovial nature of the animatronics- unlike the night prior all three were smiling joyfully with bright eyes, energetically looking around at the conglomeration of children who surrounded their stage. Now that I had some decent lighting to observe them with, I took a long moment to look the characters over.

Chica looked just as she had the night before, though when her beak opened now, there was no longer that terrifying set of metallic teeth lining the inside. In the generous light of the stage her feathers were a bright yellow, while her beak and legs were a striking orange. I also noted that her eyes were an energetic purple, a detail that I hadn't seen the last night thanks to their swelled pupils. I still thought that her form was a bit too voluptuous for this setting, given that this was a kid's restaurant without any need for feminine curves on its mascots, but the children didn't seem to mind- or even really notice- in the slightest. In the end, I shook the thought. After all, if they didn't care, then why should I?

Shifting my gaze across the stage to the next animatronic, I could confirm for certain that Bonnie was a female. In the light you could easily see the long eyelashes over her bright red eyes, a detail that was overshadowed by her… Voluptuous form, specifically around the waist. The bow tie at the base of her neck was the same shade of red as her eyes, which helped to break up the purple that covered the rest of her body; a deep indigo spanning most of the space, though a lighter patch of violet covered her belly and- erm… Chest. For the most part she also looked the same as she had last night, excluding a large dent on her left hand that I had somehow missed in the dark. It was no doubt a product of hitting her with the flashlight, and was just large enough that some of the wires and endoskeleton were exposed near her wrist, though the damage would be hard to notice if you weren't purposefully looking for it. The last detail of note was the fluffy bunny tail above her rear, an asset that I only noticed thanks to a sudden turn on her part.

That left Freddy… Who quite honestly terrified me. The large brown bear towered above the others, which I knew from experience stood at around my height. He had a giant robotic head atop broad shoulders, and hands that seemed big enough to crush my skull in. He also had a voice so deep that it teetered on sounding unnatural. All things considered, he was akin to nightmare fuel for me- especially in light of my recent discoveries- though he commanded the attention and adoration of the kids below with ease.

I was broken from my thoughts when he tossed his head back to let out a hearty laugh before continuing with his speech.

"Speaking of pizza, how would you all like to hear a song?" He asked with a raised brow. The children cheered, and so the bear chuckled and snapped his black microphone into its stand.

"Let's not keep them waiting, then!" Bonnie cheerfully replied as she lifted her cherry red flying v guitar and draped the strap over her shoulder.

"Alright, guys! Get excited- it's time for 'Cheesed to Meet You'!" Chica giggled and hummed happily as she rounded a short keyboard. It was the same color as Bonnie's guitar, leading me to believe that the restaurant was trying to give their performance a theme- maybe red like pepperoni? Or pizza sauce. Certainly it was something harmless like that, though I couldn't keep myself from also considering the blood of previous night guards.

Whatever the case, it wasn't long before the band broke into song, playing a classic rock homage all about how great pizza was. The music was almost too catchy, and I had to make a conscious effort not to tap my foot to the beat. I also couldn't help but notice that their movements were incredibly lifelike while they played, as they seemed able to do anything that a human could without showing signs of being robotic. Their mannerisms seemed fluid and natural, and as much as I hated to say it, I had to admit that I was impressed by my would-be killers. On both technical and cosmetic levels, their realism was a marvel.

After a few minutes the band stopped playing with promises to continue their performance later, much to the dismay of the children. It was then that a voice conveniently came over the building's intercom, stating that fresh pizza had been served in the entrance area. I thought that the expedient timing of this announcement was a genius way for the restaurant to make money- and an effective one at that, given just how quickly the young mass vacated the room. Before long I was the only one left… Well, aside from the three demonic machines on stage.

The trio never went still or powered down as you might expect of animatronic characters in-between shows. Instead they just stood around on the stage, either casually inspecting their respective instruments or looking around the room with what I guessed to be their standard expressions. This went on for a bit, and for some reason I stayed in the room. Of course it was unsettling to be all alone with them, but it was interesting to see them behave like how they were meant to behave. It was really no wonder why the kids loved them so much, as their conduct now was so innocuous that I almost had trouble believing they were the same characters from the night prior. My interest in them was only offset by a mild fear that they'd try to pull something, though I managed to shake the feeling as I highly doubted that they would act up during the day. After all, weren't they only dangerous once their free roaming modes activated at midnight? That's what the first night's phone call had implied, anyway.

It was then that Bonnie looked up from her guitar and began looking over the room, turning her head slowly as if to see if anyone was still around. It was when her gaze met mine that something interesting happened- her eyes widened marginally, as though she was surprised to see me. For a long moment she continued to stare, unblinking, and I did the same until I had an idea. I lowered my eyes to her damaged hand before returning them to her face, an amused smile barely tugging at my lips. That's right, I was taunting a robot. But not without reason- I had to prove to myself that these were just machines, and that I could hold my own against them in whatever menial way was available to me. In a sense, I was taking the opportunity to face my fears head-on in the hopes that I would be less intimidated by them afterword.

Her eyes narrowed, shifting from surprise into an expression that was hard to read. While I held a staring match with the bunny, the other two caught on and followed Bonnie's gaze to me. Chica's confused stare didn't bother me much; it was Freddy's that sent a shiver down my spine. The towering bear's neutral expression quickly morphed into a glare, his blue eyes flashing dimly as he stared down at me. It was easily the most intimidating thing I had ever seen, but I had to trust that it was happenstance. Machines couldn't emote in the same way that humans did, and given the time, surely they couldn't go against their settings to hurt me. Knowing those things made me feel invincible in that moment, a far cry from how I had been feeling just a few short hours ago.

I maintained the confident look on my face as I stepped away from the wall and walked over to their stage, slowing to a stop just in front of them. I slowly looked each over in-turn, letting their current harmless image settle into my mind beside the memories of black eyes and grasping robotic arms. This was the truth; they were robots, the creation of humans just like me, who were broken. They were dangerous, sure, but as long as I knew the rules, I could handle it. With that revelation, they didn't seem so frightening after all.

"That's right," I spoke after a moment, "I'm still alive."

Just saying those words lifted a sizable weight of anxiety from my shoulders. It didn't matter that they couldn't understand me- it was the reality of the situation. Despite their best efforts, I had survived. That fact filled me with pride, as well as a newfound confidence in myself. With that said and a smile still on my face, I turned from the band and began walking back toward the entrance area.

I only made it a few steps, however, before a voice responded from behind me.

"Alright Kid-dd," Came a stuttering voice, garbled and deep. "Don't-t-t go anywhere..!"

My legs tightened from beneath me, freezing me in place just as I felt my blood run cold. I stared at the open doorway ahead of me for a spell, thinking- hoping- that I had just been hearing things. After all, animatronics can't talk, right? Not like that. With a hard gulp, I turned to look back at the stage, and my breath hitched in my throat at what was waiting for me.

Three sets of inky black eyes bored into me, set in seething glares that contradicted their widely grinning mouths. Their expressions were stark bastardizations of the friendly smiles that they had worn for the kids, and the accompanying stillness of their postures made the trio seem all the more unnatural and unrelenting. The moment hadn't even the time to catch up to me when Freddy's mouth opened, allowing that same glitchy, baritone voice to snake through his teeth while his head twitched and bounced about atop his shoulders.

"We're jus-s-st getting s-s-started~"

His warped growling seemed to be the product of alterations to his preset phrases, as certain sounds looped and strained as he said them. Not that I knew for certain- nor did I care to find out. By that point my legs had unlocked, and I was quick to rush out of the room without so much as a glance back at the band.

Regardless, I somehow knew that they were still watching me as I fled.

I didn't look for Mr. Fazbear as I left; I was way too freaked out by my little conversation with Freddy to talk with anyone. Instead, I sped straight to my car and drove away from Freddy's as quickly as I could. I only stopped once on my way home to pick up a first-aid kit from a convenience store, and felt dread challenge my fear as I handed the clerk the last of my money. It was only once I had taken a seat in my car again that I let out a long sigh and pressed my forehead against the steering wheel. If I could just make it to the end of the week, I could spend my paycheck on bills then leave that terrible place forever. I didn't care if finding a job would be tough- I'd go door-to-door asking if people needed their toilets cleaned if that was what it took. Anything would beat going back to that place… To them.

Though that was still three days away. If I wanted enough money to keep a roof over my head and gas in the tank, I'd have to finish my week at Freddy Fazbear's. A few flashing mental images of dark halls and glowing blue eyes later, I felt sick. I wanted to curl up somewhere and block out everything that I'd just gone through, but knew that I couldn't afford to do that. After all, I had injuries that needed tending to if I wanted any chance at surviving the remainder of my five nights.

That thought drove me home, and before I knew it I was walking into my apartment with med kit in hand. I flipped the switch beside the door and the bare lightbulb above me flickered and clicked before buzzing to life. I swept my eyes over the place, but it looked just as I had left it- old mattress in the corner beside my secondhand dresser, a few misplaced pieces of clothing strewn about, but otherwise tidy enough. I tossed the small white kit onto my bed, then picked an outfit out of my dresser and passed my alcove of a kitchen on my way into the bathroom. After everything that had happened last night, I needed a warm shower ASAP.

I turned the faucet on and stripped from my sweat-soaked clothes, but didn't hop in before looking over my injuries with a grimace.

"I can probably leave my splint on," I thought aloud before raising my eyes from my ankle to the palms of my hands, "But the bandages…"

I sighed- I was just going to have to bite the bullet on this one. I grabbed the corner of one of the tape tags and took a deep breath before gritting my teeth and abruptly peeling the fabric off. I couldn't help but gasp, though I didn't know if it was a product of pain or seeing my wound for the first time in decent lighting. I tore my eyes from the gash and moved onto the other bandage, my hands already shaking in anticipation of what was to come. Repeating the cycle, I tore the tape off, resulting in a familiarly sharp pain in my palm as the dried blood connecting my skin to the paper was ripped clean off.

Seeing the state my hands were in, I knew that they would have to be stitched up alongside my abdomen… And I wasn't looking forward to the task one bit. One uncomfortable hot shower later, I changed into a fresh set of jeans, though I left my shirt and black jacket off for the time being. Next thing I knew, I was sitting on my mattress staring blankly at the contents of the kit; stitches, a needle, disinfectant, and a few other small odds and ends. As much as I didn't want to proceed, the thought of infection was even less appealing.

I sighed and reached inside the box.

Here we go.

…

My eyes opened and groggily blinked a few times, clearing the blur from my sight to reveal a much darker room than I last remembered. The blinds of the window above my bed no longer glowed white with midmorning sunlight, prompting me to reach for my phone in a panic to check the time. Luckily it would still be a few hours before the start of my shift, though even thinking about returning caused dismay to clash against my relief. I turned my attention from the phone to the stitching kit that rested beside me on the mattress. I eyed the half-empty set of stitches before shifting the look to my palms. It wasn't pretty, but each cut had been disinfected and closed up before I had apparently passed out. It wasn't much of a consolation, but at least I had made some progress.

Curious about the other cut, I lowered my gaze and gasped- not only was the gash on my stomach still open, but it was looking much worse for wear now that I had removed the thread that Foxy had used to patch me up. It appeared that I hadn't made much more progress than that before passing out from either pain or at seeing the damage up close.

"Damn it…"

I got up and opened one of the drawers of my dresser. After a few seconds of riffling around, I found and old t-shirt and covered the wound to prevent it from bleeding further. After covering any trace of blood with the shirt and jacket from earlier, I began to anxiously pace the room.

This isn't good… Not at all. If I pass out during my shift, I'm as good as dead. I gulped at the thought alone. I have to get this taken care of, and quick.

I grimaced- I obviously couldn't stitch it myself, and didn't dare get professional help. After all, that sort of care also came with a professional price tag. I paused to let out a long sigh- I really didn't know who else to go to with this, though…

That was when my eyes widened with recollection.

"…Or maybe I do?"

Dustin pulled up to Freddy's and, despite his stinging abdomen warranting immediate attention, paused to look up at the building. He really wasn't comfortable with returning so soon, but he needed serious help if he didn't want to pass out again. Images of the animatronics stumbling upon his collapsed form in the dark caused him to shudder, and before he could continue with the thought, he exited the car and made his way to the front doors. Music and light were still coming from the inside since Freddy's didn't close until 10, but he was still cautious about the animatronic band- especially the restaurant's namesake. By talking earlier, even if only a little and by mixing and matching its preset dialogues, Freddy had brought into question just how aware and smart these machines were. True, Dustin didn't know the first thing about how artificial intelligence "thought", or if it even did at all, though that extra layer of mystery did nothing to ease his apprehension about returning.

The guard made doubly sure that the spare shirt keeping him from bleeding was still adjusted under his jacket. Then, with a long exhale, he made his way inside.

Getting through admittance wasn't difficult, as Mr. Fazbear had apparently given them all explicit permission to let Dustin in whenever he pleased. That made things more convenient, though the lengths that the restaurant's owner went to for a lowly night guard never ceased to make him feel uneasy about sticking around.

The young man had made it most of the way through the entrance area when a hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder. The contact caused Dustin to jump in surprise and whip around with a gasp, though despite his anxious premonitions of inky-eyed animatronics, it was only Mr. Fazbear.

"Ah, Dustin!" The older man greeted with a chuckle, overlooking or otherwise oblivious to the guard's tense reaction, "I was looking forward to chatting with my favorite security guard this morning, but it would seem I missed you."

"O-Oh, that…" The younger paused to rub his arm through his jacket. "I was kind of in a rush from work… Sorry."

"And why would that be?" Mr. Fazbear asked, "Had places to be, boyo?"

"No, sir… It was just…" Dustin looked around before lifting the hem of his jacket up, just far enough to show the bloodied shirt beneath. Mr. Fazbear's grin immediately vanished to be replaced with blatant concern. He, too, looked around before dropping his voice while Dustin once more concealed the spot beneath his clothing.

"What happened?" The elder asked after ensuring that no one had seen.

"It was during my shift last night, sir. You see… The, uh, animatronics-"

"Say no more." Mr. Fazbear said sternly, "This is no place… do you need me to call an ambulance?"

As nice as that sounded, Dustin had already ruled out the possibility. He didn't expect that Mr. Fazbear would pay for the treatment himself, and given how close it was getting to the night shift, he knew that seeking medical attention threatened to cost him the night. Not that it was an unwelcome possibility, but he needed every last cent of his week's paycheck if he was to leave Freddy's anytime soon.

"No, I think I've got it under control now." He half-lied, inwardly praying that his crazy idea for treatment would actually yield results.

Mr. Fazbear shot an unconvinced look back at the guard's jacket, but ultimately nodded. "I see… Well then, I'm sorry to hear about you getting hurt like that, but now's not a great time to continue this conversation- I was just on my way to call up an electrician about the lights in Freddy's eyes. Damn things have been acting up since this morning. How about you come see me in my office just before your shift, and we'll talk about it more there?"

A twinge of fear constricted Dustin's chest as he recalled Freddy's eyes flashing that morning. For all he knew- and hoped for, for that matter- it was just another coincidence that his earlier interaction with the band had aligned with these technical issues. Somehow, though, he couldn't help but doubt it. Regardless, he pushed the thought aside and focused on the present.

"Sounds good. I'll stick around until the start of my shift, then, if that's alright with you."

"Fine by me!" Mr. Fazbear answered, his joyous attitude returning as suddenly as it had vanished. "And in the meantime, feel free to have some pizza! You look like you could use a slice."

"Thanks," Dustin answered as Mr. Fazbear patted his back and walked off, though he wasn't sure if he could stomach food at the moment.

Once the elder had vanished from sight, Dustin began making his way toward Pirate Cove while forcing his eyes away from the open doorway to the show room. A short walk later, he found himself before the curtains that separated Foxy from the rest of the building. He hadn't noticed before then the arrangement of warning signs adorning the curtains- none of which made him more confident in his decision to turn down Mr. Fazbear's offer for an ambulance.

Oh, well. No going back now…

He swallowed hard before reaching forward and parting the fabric. The light from the hall illuminated a bit of the large room, though it was still too dark to discern the looming shapes that awaited him. A rattling exhale escaped his lips before he took his first shaking step through the threshold. There was no sign of the fox animatronic, though he knew that it must have been here somewhere. He figured that it must have been hidden behind the scattered piles of crates, just as it had the night prior.

His trembling steps didn't calm as he proceeded. Foxy had helped him once before, true, but there were no promises that it would do so again. For all he knew, some leftover safety programing had compelled it to help him, though once it saw him upright and relatively healthy, would it revert to attacking just as the others did? There was no way to know for sure, and that fact terrified him.

"Hello?" He asked with a slight waver in his voice, wanting above all else to break the suffocating silence of the Cove. "I, uh… I'm back."

While his voice echoed around him, he failed to realize that his company was already aware of his presence- in fact, they had known the moment that he pulled the curtains apart. Golden eyes carefully watched the night guard walk further into the cove, though Foxy made sure to duck behind cover each time his nervous expression turned in her direction. She wasn't sure what his motive was for returning to such a place, as he had clearly run from fear the last time he had been here- though judging by his cautious behavior, she doubted that he meant her any harm.

Her gaze trailed down his form until they found rest on a bit of wood that stuck out from below his pant leg. It seemed he had kept the splint she had given him, which made her… Happy, somehow. She also noted that he had concealed the bruise on his forehead with his hair. All things considered, he was looking much better than he had the night prior.

That's good…

While Foxy observed her company, he continued to walk further into the Cove. His hazel eyes flitted about the piles of crates in desperate search of the fox, but to no avail. He wanted to leave, but knew that he couldn't. If Foxy could patch him up so well with things it had scrounged up from storage crates, then surely it could work wonders if given proper medical equipment… That was, if it would even help him at all. The lingering fear that it would turn on him like the others had made him constantly reevaluate his decision to return here. He shot an apprehensive look back at the golden part in the curtains, and considered running away again. After a long moment, though, he clinched his fists and turned his back on the exit.

"Foxy? I know you're in here…"

Her face grew warm when she heard him say her name. It was the first time in years that someone had addressed her like that, and the longing and nostalgia that consumed her at the sound nearly convinced her to step out from hiding. She didn't, though. Not before she knew what this was all about.

"Look… About last night…" He lowered his conflicted expression to the ground while rubbing his arm sheepishly. "I never thanked you for helping me, and that was wrong. So… Thank you."

Her head tilted at him from behind her crate, her ears perked to catch everything he said. He was obviously still afraid of this place- of her- and yet he came back to thank her? After spending so long alone, the concept seemed foreign. She couldn't fully sort out what he had said, though, before he continued.

"And also, I came to apologize."

This caught her even more off guard. What could he possibly be sorry for? She peeked out of the shadows marginally, just enough to watch him while he spoke.

"I… shouldn't have run off like that. You helped me when there was nothing in it for you, and I just ran away." His thoughts were broken up by a curt sigh. "I feel bad about it. I was just too scared at the time to realize that you weren't trying to hurt me."

He nervously chuckled under his breath. "I hope that's still the case… But anyway, I just wanted you to know that I'm grateful for what you did- and I'm glad that you're still here."

That last bit struck her heart directly. Her eyes widened, and she felt her body freeze up. Someone actually cared enough to visit her, to express their gratitude- and not only that, but they were thankful that she was still alive. While she remained rooted in place, struggling to process all she had just heard, Dustin waited for a reply that he knew wouldn't come. In the end, Foxy was an animatronic- and no matter how technologically impressive the Freddy's characters were, they couldn't speak… Not in the same way that people could, at least. He had said those things for himself above all, to fill the tense silence and get some weight off his chest at the same time.

After many seconds had scraped by without any sort of response, he sighed again and turned back toward the curtains. "I don't know what I was expecting… Anyway, thanks again. Take care of yourself."

He walked toward the curtains with his shoulders slumped. He had said what he wanted to say, which made him feel a bit better about last night, though he was still injured and his shift was fast approaching. Maybe he would have to eat crow and ask Mr. Fazbear for that ambulance after all. If he begged hard enough, maybe his boss would either cover the cost of treatment or refrain from docking his pay for this week.

Yeah, right.

He really didn't want to have to work here for longer than necessary, but there was no doubt that the situation would set him back considerably. Up until that point he had reserved some small hope that Foxy would walk right up and fix him, though looking back, that had always been a pipe dream. It was an animatronic designed to entertain children, not a robotic nurse.

By the time he had taken the purple fabric between his fingers once more, he was feeling hopeless and silly to have tried this in the first place. Of course Foxy wouldn't understand him… It was a machine, after all. He finally gave up on the idea completely as he pulled the curtains apart once again, shifting his focus to what he would say to Mr. Fazbear when he saw him. In that moment he was prepared to leave the Cove forever, to step out of that stifling darkness for the last time- though just as he made to walk into the light of the halls, a small voice stopped him in his tracks.

"W-wait!"

His leading foot froze just as it passed the threshold. All at once his breath caught in his throat and his eyes began to widen. For the second time that day, he wanted to believe that he had been hearing things, though the soft echo of the command disproved the possibility. Slowly, carefully, he pulled his foot back into the Cove and turned to favor the voice.

It stood a few short meters away from him, its rose red fur bathed in the orangish light of the hall. Its striking golden eyes pierced into his own, even as its face was lowered shyly. True to the animal it was based off, it boasted large ears that were lowered with uncertainty- a contrast to the fluffy tail that swayed slowly from behind it with tentative excitement. Like its brethren, it stood bipedally at a height only just beyond Dustin's own, and emulated a woman's figure with curves at the hips, waist, and bust. Also like the others, it wore a single article of clothing; an eyepatch over the right eye, raised so that its whole gaze rested on him.

"I'm here."

He had seen its mouth move in time with the words, though even then, he had trouble believing that it had actually spoken. The dialogue was too specific to be preset, and its naturally soft tone was a harsh contrast to the garbled growling that Freddy had used that morning. It was mildly raspy from disuse, but otherwise sounded just like an ordinary person. The act was made all the more impressive by the fact that its jaw hung slightly uneven from the rest of its head- only one of a few signs of disrepair, as its joints quietly creaked with each movement. Cosmetic improvements aside, he could vividly remember Foxy wearing a cargo vest and tarp pants when he was a kid… Details that were now missing, which made the animatronic seem naked and vulnerable- all despite the coat of fur covering anything that could be deemed intimate, as well as the imposing hook that took the place of its left hand.

"F-Foxy?" He managed to ask despite his shock and mild intimidation, "You can… Talk?"

To his surprise, it covered its mouth and made a giggling sound. For her part, Foxy found his confusion and shock rather amusing, even though she herself was surprised that her voice hadn't had a malfunction yet.

"Yes, I c-can." She answered slowly as she turned to avoid eye contact with him. She wasn't used to someone paying her this much attention, and his blatant gawking made her face feel hot. Her reaction didn't go unnoticed by Dustin, who was still struggling to believe how realistic Foxy's behavior was. A reserved giggle here, a demure blush there- it made him scold himself for being so rude as to stare, fearing that he was somehow making the animatronic uncomfortable. The irony of that thought wasn't lost on him, as he realized that it should really be the other way around.

"Wait… You understand me?" He breathed as he turned to completely face her, "You just answered me… But how is that possible?"

She began to anxiously toy with her hook, her eyes darting to his face before quickly looking away again. "Yes, I understand you… A-And I answer you by talking… Just like this."

While her response had been innocent, he couldn't help but feel stupid.

"Right, of course…" He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, "Sorry if I seem surprised, it's just that… Well, you know-"

"-You probably expected me to sound like this… Right?"

He watched in amazement as her body shuddered with a creak before her eyepatch flipped down. She raised her hook into the air while her jaw fell completely open, allowing a crackly voice to fill the area.

"Yar, so a landlubber discovered ol' Foxy's dwellin'? I oughta make ye walk the plank fer that!"

The voice that came out was much louder and more outward than the previous, and Dustin couldn't help but chuckle as she swung her hook around proudly, pulling off a perfect pirate impression. It was a convincing act, and one that took him back to a time when he was watching her perform on stage amongst countless enamored children.

His smile remained even after she had stopped. "Well… Yeah. Something like that."

"That was my preset voice… For-r-r shows." She replied in her previous voice while her eyepatch again raised. "All of th-the animatronics have them…"

"Wow, I never knew that." There was a bit of renewed awe in his expression as he looked her over. "So this is your natural voice, then?"

She nodded in response, and the room fell silent for a moment. Dustin had only then been struck with the realization that, as crazy as it was, he was actually having a conversation with an animatronic. He had gotten so caught up in the excitement and wonder of learning more about Foxy that he had quickly gotten over his fear of it- though that must have been at least partially due to how persuasive its shy demeanor was. Disregarding the metal hook or doubtless robotic strength that the animatronic before him possessed, Foxy seemed to be the embodiment of helplessness and timidity. Those traits, along with its ability to perform basic medical procedures, implied that some incredibly clever programming was involved here- programming that was also impressive enough to let her speak with a human so effectively. That raised a question, though…

"So wait…" He started slowly, "If you could talk all this time, then why did you screech at me like that yesterday?"

Her reserved expression quickly morphed into an apologetic one. "I'm sorry… I-I only meant to introduce m-myself, but my v-v-voice issssSSSSS-"

Without warning, a deafening screech tore from her mouth. Dustin's hands shot to his ears in an attempt to dull the ear-splitting noise, while Foxy's eyes widened in horror. She clapped her hand and hook over her mouth, though the terrible noise continued to echo even as Dustin shook his head of the sudden ringing in his ears.

"What… Was that?" He asked with a layer of concern in his voice- though neither knew whether it was for her sake or his own.

"I-I'm so sorry…" She whispered through her covered mouth, "I… Really can't help it…"

"No, no… It's fine." He assured her, "That must be what happened last night too, right? Do you know what causes it?"

She shook her head. "I th-th-think it's something inside m-my voice box… It's damaged and I never-r got it replaced…" She barely spoke above a whisper, afraid that talking any louder would trigger another malfunction.

It was then that he realized her vocal stuttering wasn't due to nervousness- well, at least not entirely. Instead, it seemed to be some sort of catch in her vocal capabilities, like when a record scratches and loops certain segments of audio. As for the screeching, he had no idea what the cause could be, or why it sounded so similar to the others. The trend seemed to be that she made the sound when her vocal volume rose past a certain level, though that was only guesswork. All he knew for sure was that he never wanted to hear that noise again, as he didn't like how frightening or pained it sounded.

"But the other animatronics sound fine…" His eyes lowered as he scratched his chin in thought. "As far as I can tell, they can choose whether or not to scream like that- otherwise, there's no way they could perform for the kids every day. So why would you have this problem and not them?"

When he raised his eyes from the floor once more, he found her staring at the ground with a somber expression. She rubbed her hook arm with her good hand before answering.

"I'm not on display anymore, so nobody bothered to fix m-my… Issues."

Dustin shook his head in distaste. After seeing some of the amazing things she was capable of, it seemed wrong to throw Foxy into a dark room to rot. As far as he could tell, it was perfectly fine to perform with the exception of a few technical problems, and still seemed like it would do a great job entertaining the customers.

Something must have happened with Foxy, he thought to himself. And it had to have been pretty bad for Mr. Fazbear to just throw a whole animatronic away like this.

Something had to be going on, and he wanted to know what... But it didn't seem like a good time to try sorting that out. Instead, he made a mental note to ask Mr. Fazbear about it later.

The room fell silent while Dustin was thinking about that. It was only after a moment that Foxy spoke up again.

"May I ask-k what your name is..?"

"Uh- oh yeah, of course." He shook the thought and gave her a small smile, "I'm Dustin Juniper. I'm the new night guard here- but you already knew that."

Out of habit he held out his hand for her to shake, and she hesitated only for a moment before lowering her face and returning the gesture. He hadn't accounted for how strange it would feel to shake a furry hand, nor could he have expected the familiar warmth that he felt radiating from her touch.

They even have body heat? He thought as he shot a curious glance at her hand, I knew that they were impressive and all, but just how human are these things?

"And I'm F-Foxy… But you already knew t-that." She murmured as she released his hand. "Any-nyway… I wanted to thank you, Dustin."

"For what?" He chuckled, "I'm the one that should be thanking you after what you did last night."

"Well…" She paused to hold her arms behind her back, nervously toying with her hook once again. "It's just that I-I-IssssSSSSS-"

The hiss escalated into another piercing shriek, and Dustin couldn't help but cry out in shock as he once again braced against the sound. He kept his eyes screwed shut with a wince until after the shriek had gone, hoping that nobody else in the building would hear and come to investigate- though when he opened his eyes again and saw the shock and heartbreak on Foxy's face, he pushed the thought aside.

"Foxy?" He asked as he rubbed the side of his head, "It's alright. Really, everything's fine."

Unfortunately, this time around she didn't seem as assured. Instead of answering him like before, she slowly began backing away with her hand still held tightly over her mouth below two hurt eyes.

"…Foxy?" He repeated as he took a small step toward her.

He couldn't say more before she turned from him and lowered into a crouch. He could see her hand rise from her muzzle to wipe at her eyes while a faint sniff reverberated off the walls.

"I'm sorry…" She turned enough so that one of her eyes looked up at him from over her shoulder, a wet streak connecting it to her jawline. "You should go…"

As she looked away once more, Dustin didn't know if he was more concerned or confused. Was Foxy really crying? How? He had accumulated more questions over the past few minutes than he knew what to do with, and yet he couldn't bring himself to search for the answers in that moment. Before he knew it, and without any specific reasoning, he found himself walking forward.

Foxy remained hunched down, fighting to keep her tears from dripping onto the floor below. She didn't know why she was like this- why she couldn't even talk without frightening others. He could tell her that it was alright, that everything was fine, but he couldn't completely hide how he really felt. She had seen the look on his face; the fear and uncertainty when she made those sounds. It was the same expression he had made when he saw her the night prior.

He was scared of her, just like everyone else was.

She had become so engrossed in these thoughts that she failed to notice his approach. In truth, she had expected him to leave by then- though she flinched when something brushed against her fur. She shot a look at her right shoulder to find an arm draped over it, and when she looked to her left, his face was waiting mere inches from her own.

She felt her cheeks grow warm again, but in her surprise, she couldn't bring herself to look away from his hazel eyes. They looked into her own without the level of fear that she had anticipated. Instead, they looked curious, confused, and… Something else. Something she couldn't figure out, but appreciated nonetheless.

Meanwhile, Dustin looked into the animatronic's face and was amazed. Now that he was so close, he could see something beyond his understanding reflected in its eyes. He had expected cameras, sensors, plastic and lights- though despite their close proximity, he couldn't pick out any of these things. They very well may have been there, but they were masked by the way that tears laced through eyelashes, and how black pupils absorbed their golden irides at the sight of him. It all just seemed so real. The emotions, the speech… Everything.

Until that point, he had attributed the unexplained to a series of glitches and coincidences, if not a load of tricky programing on behalf of some genius roboticist somewhere. Was it overkill for a band of anthropomorphic animals at a kids' restaurant to have these capabilities? Sure, but at least the guard could conjure up vague explanations for the things he didn't understand. At that moment, though, he saw something beyond technology- or at least beyond his understanding of it. Within those widening pupils was a dying light, a spark that had almost been reduced to cinders. He recognized it because he, too, had once been so broken down that the fire of life in his eyes was left barely flickering. It was still burning inside of Foxy, though, and its presence confirmed something incredible to Dustin.

As far as he could tell, Foxy wasn't an it at all- it was a she. And she was broken.

He didn't know how that conclusion was remotely possible, nor did he know how long she had been sectioned off into this dark, dingy excuse for Pirate Cove, but it had been far too long. The hurt, unconfident character before him could have been the product of a deep emotional toll, or it could have been a part of who she had always been. Like so many other things about her, he didn't know- either way, seeing her in this state both enraged and saddened him. Regardless of why she was abandoned, she was still the same Foxy that entertained thousands, and the one who had saved him mere hours ago.

His head should have been whirling with all this new information, though he somehow managed to remain focused on her current state rather than what she was.

"Look," He began after a long moment had passed, "I don't know much about you or your situation, and you might not believe me right now… But everything is going to be okay. I promise."

Foxy continued to stare at him with wide eyes for a moment before nodding and wiping her eyes clear again with a sniff. He smiled at her as reassuringly as he could, which seemed to have the desired effect. The edges of her mouth upturned a bit themselves, though she couldn't respond before a sound caught her attention.

Dink!

Foxy followed the source of the noise and gasped when she saw a dark drop on the tile beneath Dustin, followed soon by another. She traced her eyes from the small puddle up to the hem of his jacket, where another was already converging.

She gasped. "Y-you're bleeding!"

"Yeah, that's the other thing…" He started while sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, "I tried to stitch myself up after I got home this morning, but…. Well, I couldn't finish it on my own. I'm sorry to ask for your help again so soon, but could you do this for me?"

He pulled the stitching kit from his jacket pocket to demonstrate what he was asking, though by that point she already seemed to have made up her mind. She took the small box in her good hand and immediately popped it open to look inside.

"Please lie d-d-down," She fished out a small bottle, as well as a needle. "And lift your shirt, please…"

He quickly complied, and they both grimaced at the sight. The wound was open like it had been the night before, though now the risk of infection was much higher.

"Sorry," He gave a dry chuckle, "I guess I made things worse, huh?"

She didn't answer, and instead readied the small spray bottle of disinfectant. "This might hurt…"

"Believe me, I know. It's alright."

She nodded before spraying the burning liquid onto the wound. Dustin hissed as the heat spread throughout his abdomen, and she paused long enough to let him recover before covering the rest of the cut. Once the medicine was applied, she pulled out the needle and prepared it with sutures. The anticipation of what was to come made him grimace, though he was pleasantly surprised after the needle's first pass through his skin. It hurt, sure, but much less than he had expected, and certainly less than it had when he tried doing it himself. He lifted his amused gaze to Foxy's face as she worked, finding her concentrated expression much more pleasant to watch than her work, though before long he couldn't help but marvel at how well she did her job. Her hands bound the incision in steady, precise movements, and once again he couldn't help but be amazed by how fluid the animatronics' actions were.

"Wow… You're really good at this." He said after a few minutes, "Compared to when I tried it, I barely feel a thing."

She smiled in response, her cheeks somehow growing even redder than they already were. He considered talking more, but knew that she struggled with speech and didn't want to make her feel bad again. The silence left him plenty of opportunity to think things through, though the amount of questions he had about Foxy- and by extension, the restaurant as a whole- were so mountainous that he didn't even know where to begin. Rather than focus on how and why she was the way she was, he instead tried to think of practical things he could do with what little information he already had. After a bit, he had an idea.

She's obviously really upset that her voice doesn't work like it used to… Maybe I should ask Mr. Fazbear about it when I go to see him later.

It could have been more wishful thinking on his part, but Dustin couldn't help but wonder if his boss knew of some way to repair Foxy's voice. If so, that might be the perfect way to repay her for patching him up- not to mention, a good first step toward making her life here even a little better.

The remainder of the procedure went quietly, as Foxy was focused on the task at hand and Dustin was either lost in thought or idly looking around the Cove. Despite the silence, it never felt awkward between the two, and before long, Foxy finished what she was doing and severed the remainder of the thread.

Dustin's eyes returned to the gash at the sound, and found that it had been neatly sewn together in a surprisingly short amount of time.

"Wow, done already?"

Foxy nodded with a small smile before taking a moment to inspect her work. After she was content with the stitching, she helped him to his feet. He noticed the concerned look on her face when he reached down to run a finger along the stitches and chuckled.

"Don't worry, I'll be careful… Hey, it already feels better!"

She made a sound somewhere between a hum and a chuckle in her throat, which drew his eyes back toward her own.

"Thanks again, Foxy…" He began with a smile, "Who knows what would have happened without you here to help me."

"You're welcome," She answered slowly as to keep her voice from malfunctioning, "It was nice… be-being able to help someone again."

His smile remained, even as his eyes grew sad at hearing that. "Well… You did a really great job."

She lowered her face as she gave another shy smile, and after a brief moment of silence Dustin turned toward the curtains. "Sorry to heal and run, but Mr. Fazbear wanted to talk to me before my shift started. I don't want to keep him waiting, so I should really get going."

She nodded in understanding, but he could see the sorrow instantly return to her expression. Was it the prospect of being left alone again that made her look so sad? Either that or the mention of Mr. Fazbear, who was likely the one who stowed her away in the first place. Regardless, he fought off the pang of sympathy in his chest and turned to favor the curtains.

"See you later, Foxy."

"Bye, Dustin."

With that, he made his way back out through the part in the curtains. Once he had ensured that they were left just how he had found them, he stopped and blew out through his cheeks, still amazed by all that had just occurred. He took a moment to replay it all in his head before a nearby wall clock caught his eye. By the look of things, the building would be closed to the public in ten minutes, which left him just over two hours before the start of his shift- plenty of time to chat with Mr. Fazbear.

As he turned and began making his way down the empty hall, he only hoped that his boss would have some of the answers he sought.

So, I have a tiny excuse as to why this update took so long- I started a new job recently, and things were very stressful and hectic at first. Luckily, I think I'm finally getting settled in, so *hopefully* things will go smoother for me on the fanfiction front. So sorry that you had to wait so long for regurgitated material.

Humongous thanks to those of you who reviewed last chapter! Let's hear it for Squadpunk 2.0, GaoMikado01, Ammozilla, derpysauce, IROCK108, ArchAngel319, PyroFox117, Victor John Foxfire, Alfred7033, MattyJones, leopard23jose, D1rtyshad0w, thykingdomecome, NecrorexSparda Juubi-No-Kishin, AncientofDayz, Xerzo LotCN, ethorthebayleef, Crimson An'Xileel, dgray2259, razmire, Will-da-BEAST36, NullSilver2005, BlauOrange, Draegoon, Mewtwo-TheLoneShadow, Windwaker209, Metamorfo, 175, Sword of the Maelstrom, Yzermab585, Nishjin, Akantor101, 23, Lewsx, DarkStorm98, Obs3rv4nt-Onl00k3r, d8rkforcen1ght7, and jyjy108 for their wonderful reviews!

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Thanks for reading!

-S/L