November 13, 1987

11:50 PM

"Come on out, darlin'. It's safe."

Mangle obliged, moving the box of spare parts out of the way of the supply closet's door and exiting the small room. Her and Bonnie's nightly ritual was the highlight of her day, after all. He stood in the hallway, as handsome and blue as ever. Not that she would actually tell him that, of course! She cared for Bonnie an awful lot, but to admit it... Best not to risk it, she thought with some resignation as she gave the animatronic rabbit a big grin.

"How've things been, Bon? It sounded pretty busy today!" To her surprise, his face sunk.

"Too busy, in fact. A kid got injured by accident."

"Oh goodness! I hope it wasn't too bad?" Bonnie didn't answer immediately, instead rubbing the back of his head with one paw. It was his endearing response to an awkward situation, generally seen as a response to praise that he was too flustered to accept. This was not one of those times.

"We might have'ta close." His voice lacked its normal easygoing nature, and was instead dead solemn. This worried Mangle as much as the words that came out of his mouth. Bonnie was the most relaxed member of the Fazbear Crew, and his faith that everything would turn out okay even in the most unfortunate situations was a staple of every routine. If Bonnie Bunny said that things would be fine, then they would be. Now, without his normal optimism, it was as if the restaurant was already doomed.

"Oh, Bonnie..." On instinct, Mangle wrapped him into a tight hug. She instantly regretted the forwardness of her action, but that vanished into relief when he reciprocated. It lasted perhaps a little longer than it needed to, but if Bonnie minded, he made no effort to express it.

"We'll be fine, darlin'. The manager's already talking about finding a buyer for us; I'm sure we'll end up right as rain." His trademark smile returned, and just like that, everything was alright again. "Say, up for card games with the others? It's looking like it'll be a quiet night, and it's been too long since we've gotten a chance to relax."

"Sounds good! Lead the way, dear."

November 14, 1987

7:40 AM

Still laughing, Bonnie and Mangle walked back to the supply closet that she called home. He felt bad about the fact that she had to settle for it, but she never complained. That was something that he admired the most about her, in fact- despite the lousy turns in life that she had been dealt, she never stopped smiling. He half-heartedly wondered if his own reputation for looking on the bright side stood a chance against hers.

"Oh man, Chica isn't going to forget that loss for a while."

"No kidding! I still can't believe I bluffed her with two pairs to a straight."

"I don't think she can, either." He chuckled. Honestly, he thought she'd had at least a flush to challenge Chica as boldly as she had. The chicken animatronic was known for her boisterous confidence when she had a solid hand, and the fox was easily the most passive player of them all. For her to pull such a ridiculous bluff was completely unprecedented, to say the least.

"We'll have to do that again soon, huh? I haven't had that much fun since..." She paused, and maybe it was his imagination, but she seemed to straighten up a bit. "Since I was normal, I think." Bonnie wasn't sure how to respond to that; he badly wanted to embrace her, to reassure her that she was perfectly fine the way she was and that she need not worry about it, but he didn't dare to. He resented himself a little for that, truth be told. Even though he made sure to never call her by the derisive title that the humans in charge had come up with, the others weren't so sensitive, and he had noticed her freeze up a little each time the word "Mangle" left their lips. She certainly didn't deserve her condition, or the treatment she got for it, but at the same time, the prospect of opening up to her terrified him more than the restaurant's likely demise.

"Guess I'll get going, then. Have a good one, Bonnie." Her voice finally snapped him out of his ruminations, and he almost gave a start.

"You too, hun." He smiled, and waved goodbye. As the door shut and the heavy box of spare parts was pushed back into place, he sighed, upset with himself for another reason. He had lied to her last night. Sure, the owner was making negotiations for the ownership of the Fazbear Crew, but that didn't include the busted up, put-together toy fox. In all honesty, though he hated to admit it, she was likely to be junkheap fodder. Perhaps the buyer will be a nostalgia junkie, he thought to himself. I can only hope.