"Scrapped?" The word fell from his mouth and lingered in the air. "She's being scrapped?"

"Mhm..." Toy Chica mumbled. Her hand was clasped over her mouth, and so her sounds were muffled; but Toy Bonnie didn't even need to hear anything else. The atmosphere around the Toys was growing colder, and Toy Bonnie began to shake his head. His aqua, slightly-curled hair was bouncing along with his movements aside his plastic ears which were flopped forward.

"That's not true." His silvery voice was breaking through the tension like a blade, but he could not even chip what was the cold, hard truth. His voice was transitioning into a soft whisper the more he spoke. "Why would they scrap her, darlin'?"

Toy Chica went to make a humble reply, but her circuits had prevented her from doing so. Emotions started to leak out of her and she whimpered quietly, hunching herself over; like a human would if they were about to cry. Toy Freddy gently placed his gloved hand upon the unstable chick's shoulder, rubbing to and fro to comfort her. He took a quick glance at T. Bonnie, and couldn't bare to be captured by the heartbreak in his lifeless, emerald eyes. He then darted his gaze to the ground and began to speak with a low, clear voice.

"Mangle was defined as a hazard."

The temperature was only dropping lower as the monotonous hum of T. Bonnie's inner machinery buzzed.

"A hazard?!" He echoed.

"A hazard to the children. They said she was dangerous; having a take-apart attraction was fun for a while, but it was only to make an excuse to keep something they spent a fortune on... but now they're just getting rid of the whole Cove. Mangle has small parts that children could swallow or cut themselves on; she was hardly safe to begin with. I'm... sorry you had to be the last to find out, Bon."

"You're SORRY?" T. Bonnie's servos were beginning to bubble over with rage, with his eyebrows low and his fists tight. He could feel the anger rise inside him, and he took a mere step forward, toward the two toys before him. "How long has this news been around?" His voice was wavering, out of his control.

"Since two days ago." T. Chica managed to contain herself and answer his query; soon regretting doing so as T. Bonnie's glare bore into her own crystal blue pools.

"Why hasn't anyone tried to help her?" T. Bonnie's mind was nothing more than a jumble of thoughts, now, as his wonderful night of joy and glee had only been disturbed by this traumatizing, heart-wrenching news.

And it was driving him absolutely mental.

After a short while of waiting for an answer, neither of the two seemed to be able to give one. Enraged, he took a firm grip of his gleaming cherry-red guitar, snapping it out of the strap and taking it into a clasp with both hands. Without a single breath, he released a large grunt and slammed it body first into the wall nearby. It was his muse, his inspiration; and above all, his guitar was his best friend. It always made him grin rosy cheek to rosy cheek when he gently strummed upon the clean strings, making ear-warming tunes and continuing to melt the hearts of all who dared listen to his melodic sounds; however, tonight, his guitar was destined to be in pieces as he could only take out his anger on what he loved the most.

The others recoiled in fear, but continued to watch him tear his preferred instrument apart. He smashed it again and again and again into the wall, the floor, a table, whatever was in arm's reach, to unleash his anger upon the pitied object in his grip. After a few more slams, he had dropped the guitar and puffed out a cloud of smokey air. The lights were flickering above the group and he took a last look at the trembling animatronic witnesses. Before he could change his mind and start interrogating them, he had taken himself off elsewhere. For a split second, he thought he could hear a wail from behind, as if one of them were trying to call him back; but whatever he once heard was then blocked out.

He marched, pacing himself sternly, each footstep filled with more rage, but also sadness; confusion, and terror.

"I can't lose her."

He mumbled to himself, his arms swinging side to side as he was dead set on reaching the vixen he cared for so much. His vision was clouded with static and glitch, and he was certain that if he had riled himself up any more, sparks would be exploding from his bod.

It was a miserable thing to discover someone you love was bound to die. Sure, everyone dies; there would have been some day in the future where Freddy Fazbear's would be out of order forever. But Mangle couldn't go before everyone else. Was T. Bonnie in love with her? Who's to say. Robots would probably find it difficult to comprehend such complexities like that. But he definitely knew that he cared about her, and he cared about her more than he cared about anyone else. Since the day he first met that broken fox, he was smitten. And now they were taking her away?

He fought against his own egotistical nature, searching for Mangle, as he needed to protect her, or warn her, or SOMETHING. The soles of his shoes tapped violently on the tiled flooring in quick beats as he neared Kid's Cove, gaze shooting left to right.

"Mangle?" He called out for her, and surely enough, there she was, sitting slumped and weak in her corner, her one golden eye flickering gently and her endoskeleton counterpart slouched over. The meek, pink-tipped animatronic was ripped to shreds as she always was; but she still managed to be beautiful. Her hair curled in a very basic curve around her face which bore a pale complexion and numerous deep cracks. Her jaw was quite obviously snapped and broken, however she hung it with such grace that sometimes you wouldn't even be able to tell. Her lips, as any regular someone passing by would assume they'd be chapped and awful, were quite sharply painted with the reddest red of lipstick, which only stood out brilliantly against her almost completely white, fair outer skin. Her fox ears, although one was nothing but metal, still flickered occasionally as if she was perfectly alive and well; and although she suffered, she was a survivor. It was this that had gained T. Bonnie's respect before he had fallen under her spell of captivation.

Her head lifted in surprise, and as she set eyes upon the young and feminine rabbit boy, she smiled a genuine smile, which somehow calmed the nerves that gave him his constant sense of unease. He approached her gingerly, as he didn't know what to expect. Did she know? Was she about to find out? Would he have to tell her? The event being unpredictable had only worsened the weight on his electric heart.

"Bonbon," her light, brittle voice had always stung him, as she always seemed on the edge of breaking down; more than she was already, that is. "What are you doing here? It's almost time for the pizzeria to ope-"

"Are you really being scrapped?"

His voice once coated with honey was now powdered in pain. He was hurt, and she could tell almost instantly. She let his question sink in for a moment before shuffling uncomfortably in her spot and calculating a reply. "I am."

"And you weren't even going to tell me?" The crack in his voice rung like an alarm, echoing throughout the Cove. She sighed in helplessness, and their eyes met once more. The tension was almost crushing the two of them. "What, did you just expect to get taken away one day and I'd just be witnessing it out of the blue?"

She stayed silent, breaking their shared stare.

"Mangle, answer me!" He spat.

"I didn't want to hurt you." She declared with a tinge of regret in her tone. "I know, that was selfish of me; you'd only be hurt so much more if you were suddenly confronted with it without any prior knowledge..." Her throat was closing up. "B-but I... I couldn't face you. I'm sorry."

T. Bonnie began to soften up. He slowly crouched to her level and placed a hand upon her broken shoulder, using the other to lift her chin and exchange looks. He studied her for what seemed like a long time.

"Mangle, it's alright. You don't have to be sorry."

He fell silent again, trying not to choke up the sobs desperately trying to escape. He wasn't going to let himself shatter. He couldn't let himself down even just for a moment. He needed to have control... but it was hard.

His lip quivered and he reluctantly took his hands away.

"I'm going to fix this."

He rose in place, and she opened her mouth in question. "Fix it? You can't. You can't talk to the humans about this."

"I wasn't going to."

He turned on a heel and departed from the vixen.

He was going to make sure she stayed around.

Even if it meant he wouldn't get to see that.

-END OF FIRST HALF-