(Back at Mark's House)

"What's wrong?" Mark's father, Theodore, asked. He had been sleeping quite peacefully until he had been awoken suddenly by screams. He was a car mechanic, which was hard work, so he enjoyed having sleep whenever it was available. He quickly checked his watch. It read 2:30 A.M, a time that he never would wake at unless he was somehow interrupted.

"I don't know! He just started screaming!" his wife, Natalie, yelled over her son's screams. Theodore and Natalie dashed out of the master bedroom and into their son's. Sebastian was lying on his bed, and his eyes were still closed. Tears were leaking out between the closed lids, and he was thrashing about, arms and legs flailing around like a mad puppet.

"We've got to restrain him, otherwise he may hurt himself!" Theodore yelled, and his wife nodded in agreement. Together, they held down Sebastian. However, he continued to struggle for a few minutes, but eventually began to calm down. Sebastian relaxed, and his parents finally let go of his arms and legs.

"That was quite unusual. Night terrors, perhaps?" Theodore said. Natalie simply shrugged her shoulders. "Whatever, he seems to have calmed himself down. Let's go back to..." he turned to leave Sebastian's bedroom, but immediately his wrist was encased in an iron-hard grip, so tight that it hurt. He gasped and turned to see Sebastian holding his arm. And his eyes... they didn't look like Sebastian's. His face looked like Sebastian, but didn't, almost as if he wasn't Sebastian, merely a stranger that looked like Sebastian.

"Sebastian? Are you alright?" he asked, befuddled by his son's strange behavior.

"I hope Mark isn't dying or anything at his new job, huh, dad? Don't ya?" Sebastian said. Even his voice was different : it was deeper and more resonant than the voice of their son. Theodore noticed something that freaked him out more than anything in his life, Sebastian's lips weren't moving.

"Goodnight, Sebastian. See you in the morning." Theodore said, unsuccessfully trying to wrench his hand out of Sebastian's grip. He stopped as Sebastian spoke again.

"Don't be afraid, Theodore. You're safe... for the moment." Sebastian began to laugh insane laughter, the kind you hear echoing down the halls of a sanatorium. He released his grip from Theodore, and both Theodore and Natalie bolted out of the room, closing the door behind him.

They didn't speak a word as they walked back into their bedroom. They were both still too frightened to even speak. They both swore a silent oath that they would never speak of what just happened to anyone outside of their family. Not that anyone believe them, anyone.

(Back at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza)

Mark awoke with a painful headache. He groaned, and the added noise only made the headache worse. His vision was still quite fuzzy, and he felt weak and very, very thirsty, for some reason. Worse still, he couldn't remember how he had ended up like this. It would come to him sooner or later. He felt his head, and found that his head had been bound with a rag. There was a great deal of dried blood on his face, and it was dark in the Pirate's Cove. He remembered with triumph that he was in Pirate's Cove. Then he remembered everything that had happened in a rush, and he immediately began to struggle to get up. As soon as he had gotten to a sitting position, heard something move behind him. Adrenaline gushed into his bloodstream, and he flew to his feet and tried to stumble out. He remembers '87 in its full horrific glory, and that he may be next if he doesn't get the hell out of there.

He is too slow, though. He is a few inches from the curtains enshrouding Pirate's Cove when he is abruptly stopped in his tracks. Foxy grabbed his shoulder and slung Mark over his shoulder as easily as he would a bag of trash. Mark kicked and struggled, but it was for naught, he just couldn't do any damage to Foxy. He began to cry, thinking that his life was over. As the tears soaked Foxy's shoulder, he suddenly stops. His head turns slightly to the side he is holding Mark by. For the first time in his life, Mark was going to change for the better. He just didn't know it yet.

"Why ye be cryin' for?" Foxy said. His voice sounded like he was talking through a radio, but the voice was so familiar. Mark's eyes widen. He tries to talk, but stutters and his words are nearly unrecognizable. He can only make out a single word. "H-h-h-how?" Foxy makes a rumbling noise that might have been laughter. "All in good time. Now rest." Foxy said, and is if obeying his command, his eyelids drooped and he fell asleep.

He awoke sometime in the morning. He knew it was the morning because he heard the morning crew at work. He listened intently, and he found he could hear their conversation if he concentrated.

"So, it looks like the night guard isn't in his post. Well, look for the body!" said a man. Mark was confused, but decided to think on it later.

"We looked everywhere! Everywhere except, well, y'know..." another said.

"If he is there, then he's dead anyway. Jesus Christ, is it even possible for him to re-activate himself?" the first man said.

"I remember being there at the Bite of '87. It was horrifying. If he managed to re-activate himself, then I fear for the life of anyone who goes here." the second man said, shuddering.

Mark tries to listen more, but is interrupted by Foxy. He just begins to sing a nonsense song just a string of "dees" and "dums". The two men hear it.

"Dear God, am I hearing what I think I am hearing?" the second man said. All the blood in his face seemed to have drained : he was as white as a sheet. "Walk away. Just get away." he said softly, and the two men silently sprinted away.

"Now that we be a-alone, lets h-have a little conversation ." Foxy said, his voice glitching slightly.

"Alright, can you answer some questions for me?" Mark asked. Foxy nodded. "Alright, first question. Why haven't you talked to me before?" he said, shivering. His eyes kept flicking down to his hook, sure that Foxy would do something with it soon. Foxy thought a little.

"Well, I wasn't exactly... feelin' the best, if ye could put it that way. But I always be listening. I heard everything." Foxy put a hand on his shoulder. "Ye be havin' a rough time. No friends, no nobody. An outcast, jus' like me. Ever since..." Foxy sparked, causing Mark to jump a little. "Ye be different, laddie. Ye cared for me."

"Is that why I'm not dead?" Mark asked, and Foxy nodded. "Alright, next question. Why did you bite that boy?" Foxy's eyes immediately turned angry. He grabbed Mark by the shoulder, putting enough pressure to make it hurt.

"W-why does everyone think that it was m-m-me?!" Foxy said, nearly screaming in his face. Mark noticed how sharp Foxy's teeth were. "It was that d-damn m-mangle! I was helping, just like me be h-helping ye now! Ye think me costume is ripped for nothing!?" Foxy glared at Mark, showing Mark his tattered costume. Foxy grabbed the rag bound around Mark's head, and took it off, revealing what it was : a piece of Foxy's own costume.

"Then why hurt me in the first place?" Mark asked.

"I d-don't like being w-watched." Foxy said simply. "That's why I d-destroyed that c-camera thing."

"Alright, last question. Are we friends?" Mark asked quietly. Foxy realized that he had frightened Mark pretty badly. Mark was shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. His glare first softened, then dropped completely. He Foxy put his hand on his shoulder again. Mark flinched, but saw that Foxy wasn't going to hurt him.

"Outcasts stick together. Now go. Give your family the comfort that you still exist. They may actually care about you for once." Foxy said, getting up. They both walked out of the Pirate's Cove. Unfortunately, it was rush hour for the restaurant. As soon as they emerged from the curtain, nearest staff member looked over at them and collapsed into a dead faint. When his buddy went over to see what was wrong, he saw Foxy and Markus, the two outcasts. He pulled out a radio and said into it, "The night guard. He's alive. That doesn't seem to be only thing, though."

Foxy looked around at the surprised parents and frightened staff, and grinned... or tried to grin as well as he could with his broken jaw. He then began to sing.

"DUM DUM DEE DUM DEE DEE DEE DUM DIDDLY DUM DUM DUM" he sang, than sprinted quickly back into Pirate's Cove before anyone knew what was going on. A surprised staff member went up to Mark, his mouth still agape.

"You okay, man. You look pretty banged up." the concerned staff member said, but Mark simply waved him off.

"I doing just fine, thank you, but you look like you need a doctor. Your jaw doesn't seem to be closing." Mark said, and before anyone else could say anything, he dashed out of the restaurant and back to his house.