Scott didn't dare say a word. Couldn't, because the lump in his throat was too large to swallow. He had been kicked out of Vincent's room, the doctor saying that he kept riling up his patient.

Vincent's my patient!

Nevertheless, he had left. Now, he sat in the waiting room, Mike and Jeremy having gone to work long ago. What had he done wrong? He had tried so hard to fix Vincent, to be a good friend and doctor. Why had he snapped when he said those words? He felt anger bubble up in his throat, and he wanted to scream, to yell and make a scene because he didn't know anything, and he hated the feeling of helplessness that weighed down on him. Vincent's laughing had cause his broken rib to pierce his lung, and the doctor looked grim when he came out to tell Scott the news, hands covered in blood. Scott got up, rubbing his eyes. There was no point in staying, was there? He had stressed it to the point that the doctor had told him to stop that he wanted to be called as soon as Vincent woke up. He walked out, going to his car. Jeremy had drove himself over in it, and Mike had picked him up in his truck. When he got home, he took out some bread. He hadn't eaten since yesterday, with all the craziness, and his stomach grumbled loudly. He plopped two pieces into the toaster. It was close to breakfast anyway, and Vincent-

Vincent. Why did his thoughts always travel back to him? He sighed, grabbing the now toasted pieces of bread and eating them mechanically. Toast was Vincent's favorite dish. In fact, Scott couldn't remember him eating anything else while he was here. He thought of how dead Vincent had looked earlier. The doctor had walked out of the room, blood on his hands, to tell him the news of what had happened. The laughter had caused Vincent's already broken rib to break even more and puncture his lung, and they had to do surgery. It would be unlikely he would survive. Scott could see it now.

Vincent Heliotrope, leading psychologist Scott's first failed patient!

But, Vincent wasn't just his patient, he was his friend. How could he tell his friend's kid that her daddy was gone, or tell Mike or Jeremy or anyone else who cared enough that he couldn't save Vincent? The toast tasted like cardboard, sticking in his throat, and he wanted to scream, but he was trapped in his own head, words lost in the white noise.

Is this how Vincent feels?

He wondered if Vincent would be forgotten, just like every other person no one cared about. One word looped in his mind, reminding him of what he couldn't do, what he had done.

Failed.

He put his head in his arms, and sobbed.

Vincent felt like he was floating. It was black everywhere, but it was like water, and he was drowning in it. Vince appeared, a purple apparition in the form of himself, with black and white eyes and a wide grin that seemed forced.

"Welcome to your mindscape Vincent, or rather, my area. Very roomy, don't you think?" Vince sneered at him, and Vincent finally got his footing on some solid ground.

"Yeah, and empty, though I'm not surprised. After all, it's you," He shot back, and Vince smiled wider.

"Oh~, so the kitten has claws? Nice to see a little rebel in you. And, I suppose you're right. It is me," He replied, and images of bleeding children and screams filled the space. Vincent covered his ears and closed his eyes.

"STOP!" He roared, and everything went silent. He opened his eyes, and Vince looked almost..scared. He looked up to see a red aura twenty times the size of him towering above him.

"You...you're not supposed to have that much aura power!" Vince exclaimed, and Vincent saw how small Vince's aura was, how it trembled. He smiled softly.

"What's wrong Vince? Afraid of something you can't overpower, like Violet?" He said her name through gritted teeth, anger bubbling up to the surface, making his aura, whatever the hell it was, grow larger, years of hiding everything behind a brick wall of neutrality crumbling away, anger and sadness and the need for revenge pushing Vince back. He screamed. "You think you can just control me, like some twisted puppet?! Well, I'm sick of it!" Words held back since the accident, pouring out like water through a drain after you pull out the plug. His aura took the form of an arm, and it grabbed Vince around the waist, bringing him to eyes level with Vincent. They were so close, their noses were almost touching. "I'm done being your plaything, and now that I've got the power to get rid of you, I will!" Every word dripped with venom, fury closing the fist even tighter around Vince's body. To his surprise, Vince laughed, throwing his head back as he shook.

"Oh, finally! I was wondering when you'd grow a backbone," He chuckled. "Oh, and before you kill me, might I give you some advice?" He continued without waiting for an answer, and Vincent was completely still in shock at how calmly Vince was taking in the situation. "That man, Scott?" Vincent's eyebrows shot up, and he clenched his fists. If Vince was gonna try and get him to hurt Scott, he-!

He never got to finish his thought, because Vince was giving him almost a...kind?...smile, black eyes growing lighter.

"Go get 'im Tiger."

The giant fist closed, and Vince dissolved into dust.

Vincent thought he would feel triumphant, but this all seemed very...anticlimactic. Like a bad ending to a movie. Vince had almost seemed nice towards the end, despite of how terrible he was with children. He sighed, feeling somewhat hollow.

How do I get out of here?

As if the room could hear him, he was immediately thrown through a door,everything fading to white.

Vincent gasped, eyes snapping open to see the familiar walls of the hospital room. A nurse ran in, panting.

"Mr. Vincent! You weren't supposed to be awake yet!" She exclaimed and Vincent got up, ripping off the IV and other devices he was hooked up to.

"Take me home," He demanded. The woman stood still for a moment.

"O-okay."

Scott rubbed his eyes dry, red tear stains running down his face. Vincent was gone. He knew this. That friend he had known when they were twelve, back when the world was bright and new and innocent had disappeared into something dark and cold and broken, shattered like glass falling onto the cold floor. He remembered the old Vincent faintly, the one who would smile and talk about pirates and the one who had dreams.

"So, Vincent, what do you want to do when you grow up?" They were sitting on a bench in the park, and Scott asked the question with wide, curious eyes. Vincent smiled softly, and Scott silently congratulated himself on getting the other boy to grin.

"I...I think I'll be a teacher. I'm really good with numbers, so I could help kids with that!" His face grew brighter as he spoke, silver eyes shining as they stared into emerald green. "What about you?" Vincent asked, and Scott looked up at the bright blue sky, swinging his legs back and forth as he contemplated his decision.

"I'm gonna be a be a psychologist and help people!" He replied, smiling wide. Vincent sighed contentedly, leaning back on the bench.

"Scott?"

"Yeah?"

"You ever think we'll be what we dream?" Scott looked at Vincent strangely, replying in the best way his twelve year-old mind could

"I don't know, but there's always a possibility, right?"

Where was Vincent's possibility? Why had he become a psychologist, but Vincent had never reached his dream? It wasn't fair! He sighed, getting up and walking to the door as he heard knocking from it. He opened the door, and froze.

Vincent.

"Uh, Hey. A nurse drove me home, if that's what you're wondering," He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, and Scott stood there in shock. Then, he did the only thing he could think of.

He wrapped his arms around Vincent into a tight hug, afraid that it would all be a dream if he let him go, and only loosened his hold when Vincent groaned in slight pain. Neither of them spoke, but it didn't matter.

Who the Hell needed words anyway?

Mike walked around. He needed to clear his head.

Foxy had bitten him. Vincent was the reason why. Well, Vince anyway.

He could remember bits and pieces. He remembered yellow eyes and dark red fur, and a pirates laugh. He could also remember purple hair and bright silver eyes.

"C'mon Mikey! Let's try to be Foxy's first mate! Arrrr!"

Vincent seemed so kind and innocent then, so happy, nothing like the scared and broken man he was now. He walked up the stairs, stopping at the sight.

It was Vincent and Scott hugging. Scott looked so relieved, and Vincent had the widest smile on his face.

"Hey, what's your name kid?"

"I'm Mikey! What about you?" Purple hair, green sweater, dark skin. Kind voice.

"I'm Vincent, and make sure not to call me anything else!"

"Do you like Foxy, Vincent?"

"Duh! Hey, bet you that together we can be in Foxy's crew!"

"You're on!"

Mike smiled slightly. He'd liked the old Vincent. And besides, even with the head injury, his life had turned out fine. He had Doll, Jeremy, and he was hoping to get a daughter some day. So, Mike smiled when those black strings slowly slid off of Vincent arms, legs, and neck before disappearing completely.

Everything wasn't perfect right away. Vincent still had nightmares, he was still very self destructive, he still took medication, and Violet was still in Mike's custody. Not that Vincent minded that much. He just missed her. Scott, on the other hand, was furious at the fact that Vincent couldn't see his daughter, and immediately made a court case to give Vincent back custody. He talked about his progress, how careful and guilty Vincent was, and how Violet could live with them in the apartment they shared.

Vincent had a few happy memories, but the best one was when he heard his daughter yell with joy as she ran to him.

"DADDY!"

Vincent sighed, putting on his now blue uniform. He liked the color. It was better than his purple one. Somehow, Scott had gotten him his old job back. Something about psychology and other crap. Vincent didn't care in the slightest, just happy to have a job to help pay the bills. Scott had evidently liked the area, so he, Violet, and Vincent all lived in the same apartment. Still, Vincent had felt guilty living off Scott's salary. Scott walked up to him, looking him over.

"Nice suit, but your tie looks terrible. Here, let me fix it," He told him, grabbing his tie and pulling Vincent close. Vincent cheeks burned red. Scott's face and his were nearly touching! When Scott finally fixed his tie, they sat on the couch. Vincent's work started in an hour, so they had some time to kill.

He really needed to stop making death puns.

"You know, if you had stayed that day, we could have been brothers," He says softly, because he knows how much Scott's father loved having him around, and he knows that Scott would have fought for him tooth and nail. Scott nods, before slyly smiling.

"Well, if we had become brothers, I wouldn't be able to do this," The next thing Vincent knew, Scott was pressing his lips to his own, eyes shut tight and hoping. Vincent was frozen, eyes wide, face flushed.

Holy shit. This is happening.

He hoped Violet didn't come in. She would probably freak out. He grabbed Scott's head and pushed deeper, and Scott pulled away smiling. "Jeez, at least take me out to dinner first," And Vincent laughed, a beautiful sound, and Scott resolved to hear as often as he could.

Epilogue Part 1:

When Mike saw Vincent walk in with a Fazbear employee uniform, his eyeballs nearly popped out of his head. The animatronics noticed him too, glaring as harshly as they could. Vincent looked around nervously, before seeing Mike and running over with a smile.

"Hey Mikey!" He exclaimed. Jeremy walked up behind him, a worried look on his face.

"Hey Vincent, why don't you start setting up the tables?" Mike told him, noticing Jeremy wanted to talk. If the elaborate gestures were any indication. Once Vincent had started working, Jeremy leaned in close.

"Umm, the animatronics really~ don't like Vincent. When I told them he was going to start working here, they flipped out! The only reason they haven't hurt him yet is because it's daytime!" He whispered frantically, and Mike's eyes flickered to glowing yellow ones behind a purple curtain. They were on. He sighed.

Well, shit. This is going to be a long day.

Vincent looked over his work, making sure it was as perfect as possible. He didn't want to mess up on his first day, after all. The animatronics were creeping him out though. Where was Foxy? Surely they didn't scrap him? He looked to Pirate's Cove, only to the curtain shut with an out of order sign in front.

Well then.

He tripped with a yelp, falling headfirst onto the floor. He got up, looking around. Freddy was right beside him, eyes staring down, that toothy smile seemingly wider.

"Hey Freddy. Long time no see eh?" He smiled nervously.

Freddy couldn't have tripped me, right?

It didn't matter, and he ran to unlock the doors. People were waiting outside!

The rest of the day went rather...rough. No matter where he went, he was always tripping over things, and an animatronic was always around him. Once, a child had tugged his hand.

"Mister, which one is which?" The little boy had asked, and Vincent smiled kindly down at him, kneeling down to the boy's level.

"Well, you see," He began, pointing at each animatronic. "That one is Bonnie, the yellow one is Chica, and the bear is Freddy! See?" He looked to the boy, who smiled.

"Yup! Thanks Mister!" He replied, giving him a hug before running up to the stage. Vincent got up, brushing his pants off and getting back to work. He noticed Chica staring at him strangely, but ignored her. He swept up the back area, it was filthy, and as the show ended, he went up to sweep that area as well. He tripped over a purple paw, falling off the stage. With he got up, rubbing his sore nose, which had hit the floor pretty hard.

Well then. Only a few months without me and you're already getting pushed around.

Vincent looked around to see Vince as a purple apparition, waving at him. What the hell was he doing here?! Promptly ignoring him, Vincent looked to his hand, that was just covering his nose.

Blood?!

That sticky feeling on his hands were back, and he ran to the restroom.

Jeez, what a baby. How am I gonna make sure you're alright when you're practically falling apart already?

Vincent ignored him again, washing his hands with steamy water. He heard the bathroom door open, and turned to see Bonnie and Freddy looking at him.

"H-hey guys! Umm, I just got to clean up after that fall I took," His voice wavered. Why were they staring at him like that?! Just then, Mikey ran in.

"The Hell are you two doing?! Get back on stage! The kids are waiting for you!" He yelled, and the two walked out. Vincent turned back to the mirror, wiping the blood off his face.

Well, I'll be off. Mikey's got this.

With that, he disappeared. Vincent looked over to Mikey, who was staring at him strangely. "Vincent, word of advice. Stay away from the animatronics. People may have forgotten what you've done, but they sure as Hell haven't," He told him, before walking back out. Vincent was frozen for a moment.

Figures that they'd remember.

With a sigh, he walked back out, looking around at the crowd. The animatronics were wading through the children, who swung from their arms and climbed all over them. He could barely see the fur on them with how the children were covering them. He stayed far away, sweeping around by Pirate's Cove. He hissed in pain at the pain of being slashed, turning to see yellow eyes and a shining hook that dripped with blood.

Foxy?

He took a step back, placing a hand where he had been cut, and walked to the most secluded area he could find.

If it's like this everyday, I'll die!

And that would be bad for both you and me.

He groaned. Vince was back.

What, not even scared of me now?

Why should I be? I already kicked your ass, and I've got plenty of medication.

True.

He sighed, eyes staring at the dirty floor, and silently swept.

Mike watched worriedly as Vincent went throughout his day. He noticed the animatronics tripping him wherever he went, but Vincent seemed oblivious to their hostility.

When they drew blood, Mike saw it as the last straw.

"What the Hell's wrong with you two?! You're gonna kill him!" He whispered angrily at them. They glared back at the bathrooms, before turning back to him.

"So what?! He's got some nerve coming back here to work anyway!" Bonnie whispered back, just as angry. Mike sighed, rubbing a hand over his scalp.

"Look I...I'll explain tonight, okay? Just...leave Vincent alone," He grumbled, walking away. Freddy sighed, grabbing Bonnie's shoulder and dragging him back to the children.

That Night:

Mike walked in, and the four walked up to him, without their usual greeting.

"Mikey, lad, what be the meanin' o' this? Vincent be workin' here again!" Foxy exclaimed, waving his hook around.

"Yeah, I know, and don't think I didn't notice the cut you made on him," Mike snapped back, and Foxy looked at the ground in shame. Chica stepped forwards.

"Mikey, what's the meaning of this? Why is Vincent here again? He hurt the childre-"

"It wasn't him dammit!" Mike shouted, because god damn he was tired of people assuming shit! The others stared at him with wide eyes.

"What?" Freddy asked, incredulous.

"Well, it was him, but not Vincent, err...something like that," He continued, but stopped at the sound of the door opening. Vincent walked in much slower than in the morning, still holding his side,but smiled at Mikey.

"Hey Mikey! You said you wanted me to come over tonight?" He said kindly, but shrunk back at the glares of the four animatronics. "Umm...Mikey?" He asked uncertainly. Mike sighed, looking up at the animatronics expectantly, and they backed off slightly.

"Vincent, could you please explain who was responsible for the...incident, because they blame you," He asked exasperatedly. Vincent fidgeted in place for a moment.

"Well, I have this...mental disorder called Multiple Personality Disorder…"

By the end of his tale, Vincent was shaking. He hated talking about the incident, hated reliving it. He rubbed his hands together. They felt sticky again. The animatronics stared at him with harsh eyes. Chika's softened slightly, and Freddy stepped forward.

"I don't know if we can trust you, but I guess we can stop screwing up you all day," He told him bluntly, wincing at the bruise around Vincent's nose and the cut on his side. Vincent gave a small smile.

"I guess that's all I could hope for," He replied. He looked around, glancing at the piano, and smiled a little wider. "Do any of you guys know how to play?" He asked, and they shook their heads.

"It's just for show. We don't play it at all. I'm the only one who really plays an instrument," Bonnie said offhandedly, staring at him with contempt. Vincent walked up, dusting off the keys, testing a few out. He sat down, taking a deep breath, and stretching his hands. With a swift movement, his fingers skittered across the piano, music filling the room as he played a flurry of notes, everything else fading away. He smiled wide. He hadn't done this in forever! Not since that time with Scott. He loved the rush when he played, the euphoria he got into, even when the song was a depressing one, which this one was. He sighed, quietly singing the last verse.

"If I make another move, if I take another step.

Then it would all fall apart, there'd be nothing of me left.

If I'm crying in the wind, if I'm crying in the night.

Will there ever be a way, will my heart return to white?

Can you tell me who you are? Can you tell me where I am?

I've forgotten how to see, I've forgotten if I can.

If I open up my eyes, there'd be no more turning back.

'Cause I'd throw it all away, and it all would fade to black~."

He played the last notes before getting up, looking up to the wide eyes of Mikey and the animatronics.

"Th-that's Bad Apple! It's extremely hard to play!" Chica exclaimed, and Vince rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"Well, I kinda just...taught myself how to play it," He told them, and Chica's jaw dropped to the floor. Literally. She bent over and picked up, putting it back in place, mumbling about 'crack pot mechanics.' "I used to play all the time, but then…," He trailed off. What was the point of telling them anyway? They didn't care. Besides, words only caused more problems, and truth only revealed more lies. He sighed. He really needed to stop being so depressing.

Jeez, it's hot in here.

He took off his sweater, before freezing. He was wearing a t-shirt, so they could see his scars.

Well, most of them anyway.

They stared at him, eyes searching, and he felt vulnerable, weak. Mike walked up, eyes holding a mixture of pity and anger.

"What the Hell is this?" He demanded, looking at the scars on his neck.

"W-w-well, I didn't have to go to a psychologist for nothing," Vincent tried to joke, but Mike's eyes grew sharper and colder, piercing blue looking into to soft silver.

Tough crowd, hm?

Vincent looked down, ashamed. "Some of them weren't from me, you know," He mumbled, and Mike's eyes now begged for answers, the animatronics now huddled close to them, curiosity getting the best of them, along with pity. Vincent scratched his scars nervously before explaining.

He was walking out of the courtroom, being ushered to a car by men in black suits, when a woman in her thirties barreled through the crowd around him, kicking him to the ground.

"YOU SICK FUCK! THAT WAS MY DAUGHTER!" She screamed, grabbing a knife out of her purse and stabbing him in the arm, but he didn't make a sound, just watched with dead eyes as she was dragged away. He felt himself being picked up, but he didn't really care. Snippets of words reached his ears.

"going into shock...need to...sedate."

Then, everything went black.

He shifted uncomfortably in place, looking at anything but Mikey, only to find the man hugging him quickly, before ushering him out of the pizzeria.

"Better let the fuckboys take in the information. Go home and get some rest, okay?" He said, before going back inside. Vincent sighed, and walked home.

"Daddy, stop!"

"Now, who wants some cake?"

Screams everywhere, blood pouring in rivulets, staining the world a dark red.

"DADDY"

"Violet!" Vincent gasped, waking with a start, and two strong arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him back towards Scott.

"Shh...Vincent, it was just a dream, alright?" Scott sounded tired, but it was a usual thing t have Vincent wake up in the middle of the night, the horrors he had seen haunting him forever never leaving. He shook, the feeling of the stale air in the dream seemingly whisping around his skin, but Scott was pulling him closer, soft snoring like a lullaby. He smiled softly. It was warm and wonderful, everything he thought he could never have now at his fingertips.

He sighed in content and fell asleep.

The rest of the night, no nightmares ever appeared, because when they were about to, Scott's snores and love chased them away.

WOAH THAT TOOK FOREVER TO WRITE! Anyway, I'll probably make a side series of one-shots about this, so be on the look out! Oh, and thanks for sticking around!