Pirate Cove was completely and utterly wrecked. Perhaps it was the lack of being checked that sent Foxy into this sort of aggression, or maybe it wasn't. The chest that Foxy had been slumped on that weekend was overturned, padlock hanging off as the ridiculous plastic 'mountain of coins' balanced it up. While the curtains were intact, some of the other drapery in the Cove - such as the background and the typical Jolly Roger flag - were torn up slightly, undoubtedly by Foxys hook.

An animatronic on a rampage was enough to make anyone paranoid, and Mike was no exception. With people in at work now, if they didn't find Foxy then Mike would be to blame, but what could he say? That he'd been stuffed into a suit and passed out on duty? He'd be fired for sure.

No, he had to find Foxy, and fast. The security guard closed the curtains quickly and hobbled across the room towards the door, pausing only when he reached it.

To leave through this door would cause a lot of questions, but he always had the excuse of needing the restroom. Then again, saying that and then waltzing in the opposite direction would prove to be a waste of time. No, he had to be very quiet and hope no one noticed him.

Mike pulled on the door very slightly, letting the sound of the rest of the pizzeria flow in through the crack of the door. He peered through the opening and looked back and forth down the corridor, frantically thinking of where Foxy could possibly be. He compiled his thoughts into a small list in his mind, trying to put the pieces together to figure out where the animatronic had gotten to.

For a start, Foxy only usually travelled down the west hall - the hall he'd just walked down, and Foxy was nowhere in sight then. Nor was Foxy in the office - he'd just left, surely the fox could have just teleported inside. But that only left the cove and he'd already checked the curtains. Foxy was being undoubtedly crafty.

With the other animatronics either in place or being returned to their place, it was clear they'd be powered down enough not to move. But during the day, they still maintained mobility, so they were less active at night. So surely that meant that whatever energy Foxy wasn't using in the day like the others was contributing to his speed at night, meaning he could sprint, while the others could merely move small distances at a time.

Mike had also been unable to check the time before he'd been caught, so perhaps in the time he was stuffed, Foxy had noticed and made his way down to the office. Which meant that if Foxy failed to find him there, then...

Mike pulled the door open fully and limped out, making sure he was moving quietly so much as to make as little noise as he possibly could on the tiles. He could hear the clatter of dishes from across the restaraunt where the sound carried across the dining area, and redirected himself to avoid taking that route unless necessary, knowing that he was expected to be working.

It was harder trying to walk with his ankle, but with occasional propping against the wall he covered some distance of the hall and reached the office door, which was open and had the irritating buzz of the office light. The little power left for the morning was keeping the office lit, meaning someone was either inside. So Mike paused and tilted his head enough to look in.

The office was empty. The light was definitely on, making Mike squint from where the cove had been dark, but no one was present to have turned it on. Perhaps the owner had left it on? Mike didn't know, but didn't really want to go around asking. He ducked into the office and looked around carefully for the telltale sign of an animatronic fox.

Nothing in particular stood out to him that was different than it was at night - except the fan was turned off and the cupcake was, obviously, back with Chica on the stage. No sign of Foxy, no sign of anything. Even the little cameras on his desk were blank, revealling nothing.

Mike was really beginning to panic now - the three possible places that Foxy could be, but all of them empty? With the others there were so many places they could be, but Foxy was the least active when it came to areas. He was the kind to be back and forth so quickly it was like he'd never left.

Mike turned and hobbled his way back down the west corridor, heading carefully back to the cove in order to try and find out where the animatronic had gotten himself to. Luckily nobody had come down the corridor and so he was able to slide back through the door without gaining any attention. The last thing he would need is to be interrogated about what he was up to.

The first thing he did was pull the curtains back again, trying to will up the hope that Foxy had miraculously returned to the cove by himself, even though it was impossible with how loud Foxy was when he moved - the metal would have been noticable by anyone. But no, the cove was still empty, the gimick pirate setup still untouched. Even the sign was-

The sign.

Of course.

The damn sign.

Mike craned his neck back to look at the sign, and his hopes raised just a little bit. The sign was still intact - no 'ITS ME' to indicate that Foxy had left. The sign remained saying 'Out of Order', meaning surely that Foxy had never left this room. The dust on the floor was caked in his own footsteps now too so it didn't hold much help, but he knew that Foxy hadn't moved anywhere outside of the curtains. Unless he'd been moved by someone else.

Or something else.

The whole thing was mystifying to Mike, but with Foxy absent from the cove and with all the clues pointing to Foxy never leaving in the first place, it was growing obvious he'd been moved. So he sat on the treasure chest and thought about who could have moved a heavy animatronic fox so easily without getting mauled. After all, he'd heard that Foxy was responsible for that old story about some guys head getting gouged into by Foxys teeth to a point his brain was severed.

Almost automatically, as though a switch had clicked in his head, Mike slowly stood up again, stumbling a bit with the accidental weight put onto his foot. But that evaporated as he moved even quicker to his destination, aware that people would be near there and the last thing he wanted was to be seen. His pace was brisk and he kept moving even when he heard nearby voices - stopping would put himself at risk.

The showstage, thankfully, was empty of people for now. It was a wonder since even though the animatronics were dirty and caked in fluids that people didn't even want to try questioning the identity of, people sometimes handled them to set them back up on the stage. For example, they gave Freddy his microphone, Chica her cupcake, and Bonnie his guitar. The looks of things told Mike that they'd already been set up in the time he'd been in the cove, so he didn't have to worry about anyone going where he was going.

Mike slid between the curtains on the stage, doing his best to avoid Freddy in the process since the bear was directly infront of the parting. And he saw something on the table backstage he was instantly relieved by.

There was Foxy, propped on the desk, head tilted forward and jaw hanging down loosely. He looked none the worse for his ordeal and it was a wonder he hadn't been noticed there before, especially since he'd been in here earlier breaking free. Then again he'd been preoccupied with escape, and anyway it was unlikely that Foxy was coincidentally there at that time, right? Perhaps he'd been moved here after. Mike didn't know. He didn't care. He just wanted to get the animatronic fox back to his cove and go back to doing some work.

Then again... Mike turned to the suit he'd been fixing with earlier thoughtfully, approaching it slowly and examining it. While he was backstage, he could always continue pulling pieces out, correct? Then if anyone asked, he could say he was looking for Foxy. If he was working in the cove, then he'd obviously have the excuse to say that he had noticed Foxys absence. Sure, they'd be angry at him for looking, but it would be lucky he did.

So Mike preoccupied himself with pulling apart the extra suit, testing out if he fit into it this time by ducking a limb into the slots. In the legs and arms it was harder because they were the kind that couldn't be opened like doors, so he pulled out what he thought was necessary to be comfortable and dumped what he tugged out into spare parts crate he was supposed to be taking to the cove. The head was the easier part, as ducking his face in forwards gave him enough indication as to whether or not the mask would close up comfortably. He wouldn't have to worry if he got stuffed inside this time - except for his injuries from the first time, anyway. So much for medical insurance.

Mike was so absorbed in meddling with the suit that he jumped out of his skin when he heard a laugh that distinctly resembled a laugh from Freddy echoing from beyond the curtains. His skin trembled and his face paled from red to white to green, utterly chilled by the noise. It only took him a few seconds to realise that Freddy was powering up ready to entertain the children. How children could deal with the horrific suits was beyond Mike, but then again, the kids hadn't spent so many nights here with the looming and ongoing threat of death if he slacked.

It was lucky that Freddy drove him out of his fumbling of the suit, as the distraction was the exact moment that things began to change. Foxy, who was still immobile on the table, twitched an ear - a sharp movement, unrealistic in comparison to a real fox, but one that indicated that Foxy was still partly energized from the lack of activity last night.

And then Foxy moved his head up and dropped his jaw, beginning to let out his horrifying screech. Mike quickly dropped what he was holding and ran over to the animatronic fox, shoving a fist into the foxes mouth and forcing the endoskeletons mouth closed. Only then did Mike realise the consequences of his mistake. Of why Foxy was closed off in the first place.

It was too late to move. Foxys lower jaw automatically came up as it often did in his biting motion, and the metal teeth that were partly rusted dug into Mikes wrist, slipping underneath the skin and forcing his wrist up to be penetrated on the upper teeth. His hand remained fixed on the endoskeletons teeth, but Mike almost fainted from the shock of the sudden turn of events. He could feel the teeth moving under his skin, sharply moving around and slicing into his veins like they were nothing, not yet deep enough to knock into bone but getting dangerously close. He had to get free before the rust dug in properly and he had a high infection chance from it.

But the pain was unbearable, and despite Mike attempting to beat the jaw off with his other hand, the bleeding was untameable and a horrible sight to see. He swallowed down the bile in his throat as he again forced his fist into the side of Foxys jaw, causing the fasten to shift down slightly the way that a bolt came loose. It wasn't much, but it was enough to angle Foxys jaw enough for Mike to practically roll his wrist out, sliding his wrist off of the teeth and cradling it in his hand as he willed himself not to pass out, or scream.

He allowed himself to hold tears in his eyes though, for he was a mortal man and the sight enough was hard to deal with. It was effort to stop himself responding any other way, but he couldn't deal with anyone finding out about this. He had plenty of time to make excuses later.

With what energy he had left, he made a dazed effort to wipe his blood from Foxys teeth and jaw, petrified that Foxy would take a bite again. But Foxy was still now after finishing his screech, and so Mike made the hastiest effort to hide the blood with his jacket sleeve wiping at it. It wasn't the best cleaning, but it melded in enough with the rust, so it was okay.

It was only when he was carefully hoisting Foxy off of the table with an arm around the animatronics side the way someone would support someone unable to walk properly when the curtains were pulled open, and the owner was stood there, open mouthed but then letting his jaw drop in surprise. Mike slid to a halt, breathing in.

"Mike, what on Earth are you doing back here with Foxy?- ...Is that blood?"

Mike opened his mouth to speak, "Foxy... gone... found... back here.. taking.. cove..." but then fatigue and pain overcame him and he collapsed, knees buckling and falling under the weight of the animatronic fox.

The stage mingled in with the managers concerned face, the faces appearing of other staff who had heard the commotion, and with the collapsed form of Foxy, swirling around in a blur, before everything once again turned dark.

Mike wouldn't get used to passing out this often.