Hello internet! Welcome to my crazy fangirlish mind! I have a story for you all today, and I am sure I'm gonna complete it! It is not about the dead children, nor the security guards, nor the animatronics. No, this shall be about the bullies from FNaF 4! The child's brother and his friends! Now, this story sparked from a theory I saw in the comments section of a Game Theory recorded stream about FNaF. The theory is from Dizzy Dengel-shout out to you-and the theory is basically this: all the games take place in the four bullies heads. FNaF 4 is the brother, FNaF 3 is for the Bonnie masked kid, and so on. Anyway, this is my take on it. First up, Scott Cawthon, brother of dead child and Foxy mask extraordinare! Can you guess why his name is Scott Cawthon? If you do, you get a virtual cookie!

Disclaimer: I don't own FNaF nor this theory.

Scott's Story

I didn't mean it...

"Aw...does the little baby want to give Fredbear a kiss?"

It was a joke...

"Help me lift him!"

Why blame me...

"Pucker up!"

I meant no harm..

"Herb?"

Please...

"HERB!?"

STOP HURTING ME!

"SCOTT!"

I jumped, and looked around at my surroundings. I was confused for a moment before remembering where I was. Our class went on a field trip to the hospital to visit the children there. I dreaded the thought of going. Not because of the building itself, but because of who was in there. We were on the bus still, but it looked deserted. The only person who was still on was a blonde kid with green eyes gleaming in annoyance.

'Sam...'

"Hello! Are you even listening!? You fell asleep you dope! Hurry up or we'll get detention! AGAIN!"

I groaned mentally. Sam was a nice kid, even if he was as skinny as a twig and always worried about getting in trouble. "A'right I'm coming. No need to get your tighty-whities in a twist." I stood up and brushed my black shirt off despite the fact that there was nothing on it. Sam's face flushed a little but I payed no mind to it. He'd get over it. Sam always did. Pushing past him I grabbed his hand and pulled him of the bus. I'm straight, believe me, but sometimes me and Sam could get a little too comfortable with each other.

Anyway, as soon as we got off the bus all the others gave us looks. Looks of disgust. The only people who didn't was our health teacher Mr. Hackle and these other two kids. Sam stepped a little closer to me and his hand tightened around mine. He never was one for the crowd. I just shook my head and lead him over to the two who didn't look at us. The first was an asian boy(he is Asian. Family's from Korea. I'm not racist)with a buzz cut and wore a v-neck purple shirt with a white long sleeve under it, faded cargo pants, and combat boots. The other was a girl with thick framed glasses, a sky blue sweater vest with a white blouse under it, black skinny jeans, and some red high tops. Her ginger hair was pulled back into a waterfall braid, her freckled face having a small frown on it.

"I'm telling you Georgia, somethings up and happening in that place." The boy said, aggravation clearly heard in his voice.

"I don't know Gabe," Georgia shook her head slowly. "We should just talk about this later."

"Yo Gabe! Georgia!" I called out. They quickly whipped their heads to face me and Sam. Both of them smiled brightly and rushed over to us.

For a couple of minutes we just talked like nothing was wrong. Like everything was okay. Unfortunately that small sliver of peace broke as Mr. Hackle spoke up, a heavy ball of lead dropping in my gut. "Alright! Settle down," he shouted. All of us quieted down. "Thank you. We shall now enter the building where we shall be given a tour followed by an hour of interacting with the patients. Lunch shall be served in the dining hall at 1:00. Don't be late! Now head over to the building! Chop chop!"

My classmates started to swarm towards the hospital, but the four of us stayed where we were. I looked down at my feet, dread and guilt clouding my thoughts. I didn't realize that I was still holding Sam by the hand until he gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Aye, cheer up man!" I slowly glanced over at Gabe. An idiotic grin was planted on his facial features. "Don't feel like you're the only one to blame! We're all guilty!" He was then elbowed swiftly in his side by Georgia.

"What was that for!?"

"You're not helping..."

I shook my head and slightly laughed. 'Those two really crack me up sometimes.' Feeling another squeeze I looked at Sam. He showed no expression but his eyes told me all there was. "He's right you know. You don't have to feel so guilty. We all did it. Don't put yourself down so much, k?" Sam said in a soft voice. He always had a way to calm down my nerves. That's what special about him. He's the most innocent person here and yet is wiser then the oldest person who's around. I can't let his innocence break so easily. I even had to cover his eyes and ears when that happened. And yet he still knows what transpired that day.

I only nodded. Because that's all I could do at that moment. One utter word and I would break. Sam smiled at me, and then eyed the others. "Should we..?" I nodded. He nodded back and then did shrill whistle. The others stopped their bickering and looked at us. I did nothing except for walk slowly towards the hospital, the others trailing behind me.

'I really fucked up this time."

"And that completes the tour! Any questions for our helpful nurse?"

Multiple hands shot up. The tour was over with and we were currently in the dining area. It wasn't grand. It had a kitchen, a bunch a tables, and a giant window overlooking the vast garden they had. "You with the orange shirt? Yes. What is your question?" The tour guide said in a sickly sweet voice. She was in her mid-twenties and had her curled black hair tied back in a messy bun. She had bruises scattered about on her caramel colored skin, and her face held an obvious fake smile.

"Did you hear about the kid who got shoved inside of Fredbear's mouth?"

An inhuman sound escaped my throat yet no one payed it no mind. Everyone knew why it affected me so much, so they never brought it up when me, Sam, Gabe, or Georgia were around. Except for one kid. His name was Jordon Foster and he was always a bully to everyone. He's even worse then Gabe. And that's saying something. He always found a way to pester all of us, and it seemed that the 'Bite of '87' as everyone called it seemed to be his top priority now.

The nurse shook her head and gave an annoyed sigh. Most likely she'd been hearing this for a long time. "Of course I have. It's all anyone talks about nowadays. It's a shame Fredbear's is closing soon because of it though. From what I heard it was an accident caused by some bullies or something. Who knows."

I could've sworn I heard the gears turning in his head at that moment. My breath hitched and started to get faster. No one noticed. Except for Georgia who was standing right next to me. She gave me a concerned look, her blue eyes telling me all I needed to know. I nodded so fast I thought my neck would snap. Georgia gave a silent sigh and then squeezed through the crowd trying to find the others. Gabe and Sam got separated from us during the tour. I stared a Jordon, his face slowly stretching from a wide smirk.

"Oh nursie~!" He called out in a singsong voice. The nurse looked at him with a bored expression. Jordon quickly looked at me before turning back. "I know who caused the bite~!" At this point I was desperately trying not to have a panic attack. And the fact that I had asthma didn't make it any better.

"Oh really? Care to tell me who?"

"Yep! It's that kid over there! The one with the black T-shirt!"

The nurse looked over at me and for the first time since that day I felt truly afraid. Trapped.

'It's your fault you know. If you had stopped it wouldn't be like this.'

I frantically shook my head, desperately trying to get the voice out of my head. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her walking towards me.

'You want to deny it, but you know you can't. Deep down in that blackened heart of yours you know you have commited a terrible act.'

"N-no..." I whispered, my voice cracking. At this point I didn't care who was watching. I shut my eyes hoping that would keep the tears back. But it didn't. The wet salty liquid streamed down my face. Something touched my shoulder and I jerked away.

'You're nothing but a monster Scott. A cold hearted monster.'

"Scott...?" I gasped. "Scott...it's okay. You're fine."

I didn't move when I felt arms wrapped around me. I was to busy trying to get my breathing under control to give a damn. I didnt even realize that I was on the floor until I felt the cold white tiles under my hands. The person who was holding me pulled me closer until I was practically on their lap with my face pressed against their chest. My face heated up slightly when I felt that their chest wasn't flat-it was curved. Georgia ran one of her hands up and down my back, telling me soothing words. "It's okay. Just breath. No one can hurt you. Breath. That's it. In. Out. In. Out."

Eventually I got my breathing back to its normal pace and I slowly peeled my face from Georgia's...eh... chest. My face was slightly sticky from my tears and before I could fully remove myself I felt another pair of arms close around me. This time the back of my head rested against another chest-this time flat thank you very much-while a hand caressed my hair. I opened one eye to see a-thanks to my tears-blurred picture of Sam in front of me.

'That means that Gabe's holding me.'

Unfortunately my eye didn't stay open for long as Sam closed it saying, "No, no. Just rest now, okay? Georgia's going to take care of it. Don't worry." As much as I didn't want to sleep a wave of fatigue rained over me causing my eyelids to get heaver. And before I knew it I was in a dream. Or should I say nighmare? No...

I was in Hell.

"Almost over. You have to pull through."

Despite the reassuring words coming from my brother's Fredbear plush-lovingly nicknamed Plushbear-I was nervous. No, not nervous. I was terrified. I sat on my brother's bed, the little Freddys that were on it scattering. Plushbear was sitting in my lap, his body void of movement. I glanced over at the doors and the closet. All were open. I didn't bother getting up to close them all. Those monsters would get me one way or another. So why try to avoid the unavoidable?

"We? Monsters? Scott, you can't be serious..."

I gasped. He came a lot faster then last time. I eyes welled with tears at the thought of my punishment last time. They went easy on me. If you call easy being bit by dozens of flesh tearing teeth then yeah. They went easy. "I-I am. You're th-th-the monster..."

"Don't you know it's impolite to not look at the person you're talking to? Look at me."

I looked up out of fear of what would happen if I didn't. A pitch black bear animatronic-similiar to Fredbear-was standing before me, teeth stained with a crimson color and claws behind his back. The animatronic had a gold hat and bowtie on too. "Good boy. We don't want to wait to play any longer, do we?" I was afraid that if I did speak that we would 'play' rough. So I nodded my head. Before I knew it I was chained to the bed with a gag in my mouth. The bear only looked at me with malice filling it.

"We're going to do

Fun

Pretty

Things."

For the rest of the time I screamed for help only to achieve none. By the time the bear was done I had multiple cuts, scratches, and teeth marks all over. The chains went undone and I instantly curled up on myself to keep my breath in check. "That was fun~! Let's do it again later! And tell your friends Nightmare was here!" With that Nightmare left me to my agony. I sobbed, my eyes starting to burn. I couldn't cry tears.

I had no tears left.

A soft object touched my shoulders. I looked up and saw Plushbear staring at me with his-Herb claimed it was a boy-seemingly souless eyes. As I was blacking out the toy said the same thing it always did before I left.

"Tomorrow is another day."

When I woke up I was staring at a white ceiling, fluorescent tube lights glowing in the dark. I sat up in whatever thing I was laying in and looked down. White sheets were on the bed, thick metal poles holding it up. 'That means I'm still in the hospital. But where and why is the question.' Looking around the room I noticed it was rather childlike to say the least.

White walls were littered with pictures depicting many different things, but it was hard to see what it showed. Toy cars, crayons, and some plushies were scattered on the floor. As I looked closer at the plushes my breath hitched in my throat as I realized what they were. A purple bunny, brown bear, yellow chicken/duck(never knew what that was), and...a red fox. Except, poorly sewn stitches surrounded its neck, almost as if the person who did it was in rush or didn't care to make it secure. My mind started racing with thoughts as I stared at them.

'Herb. Herb. Herb.'

The name fogged my head like an overstuffed turkey. My head started to pound at it. I groaned and flopped back down on the bed slipping my eyes closed. The only thing I could hear was the pounding until it eventually subsided. It was quite eerie to say the least. Haven't had this much silence since...n-nevermind. I don't want to bring that back up, especially now that I have the silence. Might as well enjoy it.

A couple of minutes had passed before I heard the creaking sound of a door opening. The soft patter of feet was heard as it got louder. I moaned softly, the patter making my head hurt worse than it already did. Thankfully the shuffling stopped only to be followed by the creaking of the bed dipping as something got on it. I played stock still fearing the worst. The added weight was right next to me and I felt a small and somewhat cold hand weakly grab a fistful of my shirt. Small, breathy gasp could be heard like the person was out of breath.

"Scottie?"

Eyes shot open as I heard that pet name. Only two people called me that and one of those people stopped saying it after the incident. So that only left...

"H-Herb? Is that you?"

I looked over to my left and saw none other than my brother. Forehead wrapped in partly blooded gauze, brown hair a mess. He wore one of those hospital gowns and his baby blue eyes dull with life and yet held mild shock. My brain didn't want to believe it but my eyes saw it all. Besides, it shouldn't have been that much of a surprise for him to be awake. The doctors did say he would switch from being conscious to unconscious from time to time. That and according to sis Herb was more of less a lot more rash and daring than he used to be. Also, he seemed to be devoid of emotion.

Still, seeing him healthy, breathing, alive, not dead. It was just to much to take in.

"Scottie..."

His voice was so, so lifeless. And yet, his face showed discomfort but also relief.

"I, I just wanted...say...forgiven..."

I mentally slapped myself. He couldn't even say a full sentence! But, that would be appropriate, seeing as he is in the company of the person who made him like this. "Come on Herb. You're not a baby anymore. Speak in full sentences."

Herb scrunched up his face like he was trying to decide something. "I-I'm sorry!"

I quirked an eyebrow. Slowly taking his hand off me I sat up. "What you sorry for? Last time I checked you didn't do anything wrong. Unlike your big bro of course."

"That's just it Scottie! If I wasn't such a crybaby none if this would've happened! None of it!"

I saw tears prick the corners of Herb's eyes. 'Oh boy...' "Seriously, what are you talking about? No one ever said you were a crybaby."

"I am! I am and you know it!"

Herb sat up, the tears freely flowing now. I sighed and-semi regretfully-wrapped my arms around his torso. His figure tensed up and he started squirming. "No! No! Let go! Scottie! Let go! LET GO SCOTTIE!" I didn't comply. As carefully as I could I slid Herb's thin frame onto my lap. On the topic of his thin body, I briefly wondered what he ate-if he even ate-before hearing three words I disliked with a burning passion. Three words normal Herb would've never said.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE-!"

My hand clamped down on his mouth making him completely silent. "Herb Tylor Cawthon," I said in a voice mom would use whenever she was really pissed-low toned and gruff. "I really don't give a shit on what you say. But if I ever hear you say those words to anyone ever again, you can bet your skinny little ass that I'm going to whop it. Hard. Until it bleeds. Do you understand me?" He gave a shaky nod and leaned back until the back of his head was resting against my chest. His breath was shaky and uneven. Whoops.

Removing my hand from his mouth I started to run it through his hair like I was petting a cat. All was silent until Herb closed his eyes and said in a hushed tone:

"I'm sorry."

His breath went back to normal but I didn't stop rubbing his hair. Even though I knew that he couldn't hear me I still whispered back.

"Me too."

IT IS FINISHED! FINALLY! I'M DONE! NOW I HAVE TO MAKE AT LEAST FIVE MORE! WHY!?

Until next time!