"I know you can't speak, given where you were bitten-"Velma started off slowly, uncertain of what to say. It harshly screamed in response, that ungodly shriek making her cringe, but she couldn't turn away now.
"But Purple Guy didn't murder you-" It screeched even louder, causing Velma's brow to furrow and her heart to thrum with fear. She didn't hear of anyone being in the suits in '87 because they were still powered by the same servos or so she believed. Perhaps more research would need to be conducted, if there was time.
"Velma, look!" Shaggy cried out and on the screen, the scene flickered through black and white film from the VHS. White dots emerged in the golden bear's empty sockets as though it was watching the footage. A group of boys in masks akin to those iconic animatronics were shoving a crying boy into the golden, singing bear and a figure, in the distance was leaning against a giant door. Quickly pausing the screen, Shaggy leaned forward to obtain any detail on a recorded man who wasn't with the boys.
"Check the other cameras' footage, maybe that's Purple-" The golden bear screeched loudly, interrupting Velma's request. Her eyes flickered to the screaming bear, baffled by the notion forming in her brain. Hesitation grabbed her throat, the words climbing upward as they worked in time with her mind. It seemed like a stretch, yet, why else would the bear be shrieking at the screen? He wanted them to see this man which only allowed her belief to evolve into asking:
"….is that Purple Guy?"
He wore dark clothes and a badge that captured the spotlight from the stage. The light gave way to what appeared to be a smile as twisted as a pretzel, but his eyes stayed hidden within the shadows. The shadows outlined his well built frame and a firm jaw, from what Velma could tell – he was so distant from the camera that she could only decipher so much about him. The badge confirmed his status as a Fazbear employee and Velma now recalled how she had never seen someone bearing this man's description before in all the times she had been to this pizzeria. Perhaps he was fired, left the establishment, or was even laid off long before Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria reopened.
Shaggy played a few more minutes of the tape to see if the film would capture anything else about the possible Purple Guy. As the seconds unraveled, the video showed that he did nothing more than stare. Stare at the scared little boy who writhed wildly in the mouth of the golden bear. Watching as the jaws crunched into the child's head and even watching the boys who put him in there to begin with slack their jaws in horror at the realization at what they had inadvertently done. He did not move, but only smile until a scream from off camera washed it away. The man slipped into the passage that the giant door had guarded. It was at then Shaggy stopped the footage again and Velma could feel nothing but emptiness throughout her body as though someone had sucked her soul.
"He watched the bite of 87…?" Velma's voice caught in her throat, struggling to believe the words spilling from her lips.
The golden bear shrieked, agreeing with her. Why this man did nothing, Velma wondered and that smile alarmed her as though he were a serial killer enjoying his murder. Perhaps, he was the mechanic or technician to these animatronics and given the knowledge he owned, he could practically do anything. While there was that lingering possibility, Velma mentally backtracked, the Bite of 87 was an accident though.
"Your brother put you in there," Velma teared up as she spoke those words and the bear fell silent. She tried to figure out to say, let alone what to think. Why would anyone watch a child die especially knowing that they could have prevented the situation? Swallowing her tears, she abandoned emotion for logic, her brain spinning faster than a CD.
Caught in his staring contest with the golden bear once more, Shaggy didn't take note of what Velma was saying. He couldn't tear away from it, he couldn't even imagine what would happen if he did. Yet he swore he felt the room grow a little too quiet for his taste as he watched the bear slowly nod, as though acknowledging Velma's statement.
"Purple Guy," she tried to keep the confidence in her tone, despite feeling it falter. Purple Guy was the one behind the recent murders, but for this, he had been an accessory to the unintentional murder by allowing it to happen. "He just watched, but he could have helped-"
"Like, he should have helped." Shaggy whispered with fright and the golden bear's head slowly nodded, groans of anguish spilling from its mouth.
"Little man, is that you?" The VHS tape was seemingly spat out of the television as a new image came to light on the screen. A floating head – no, not just any floating head. The floating head of the brother Troy had just decapitated appeared and Shaggy dove for cover behind the seat. The screen shook and crackled with black and white as though it were from long ago while a dark backdrop gave the head more attention.
"Little man-" The voice rattled Shaggy and Velma, having not expected to hear or see this young man again given his fate.
The golden bear roared, ivory dots glaring at the screen. Shaggy swore the scream was louder than ever and he could understand why. The head turned as best as it could to the golden bear.
"Little man-" He was cut off by another shrill shriek.
"Please-" The ungodly roar resounded throughout the office.
"PLEASE FORGIVE ME!" The bear was quiet once more as though registering those words. Its beady eyes watched tears stream down the bodiless presence's cheeks. The bear growled lowly in anger at everything that had happened between him and his brother at Fazbear's. Yet seeing his sibling cry softened the growl some as the bear leaned in, the glare still unforgiving.
"I'm-I'm so sorry, w-we…we had no idea it'd-" the golden bear cut him off, another roar filled with pain as Shaggy grabbed Velma and pulled her from the scene. Understanding, she followed his lead. It was the spirits' moments now, not theirs.
"Ple-please listen to me." The bear snarled, the ghost in the machine not wanting to listen, but at the same time wanting to hear his brother's voice. Could he talk he would ask him a myriad of questions about his death, why he did it, why didn't he stop it, where were his parents, and what he had caused for them.
The room succumbed to silence and if Shaggy listened close enough he could hear the raspy breathing of the soul within the bear. If he closed his eyes he could imagine the full body of the brother's head and if he dared to inhale a deep breath, he could smell what that little boy's body smelled like. These were the things he didn't want to do and instead he held Velma to his frame. Velma's eyes dared not leave either spirit, her pupils darting back and forth like a game of Pong. It was only now she noticed that the neck was trimmed in what appeared to be bite marks – no doubt the work of Troy when he attacked the sibling. Velma winced in the recent memory of that occurrence. It was only when the disembodied head sniffled and sighed that the bear seemingly sneered at it.
"We…we had no idea it'd do that. We-w-we thought it had..an anti l-lock or somethin. I-it was..t-t-the sight of….b-bro…it-it's somethin that haunts m-m-me now and I'm dead!"
The headless sibling sobbed and sniffed. Clamping his eyes shut, he hated to be seen crying, but for this he had no choice. He had cried his eyes out earlier, but now his cries seemed more powerful given that now his brother's soul rested before him in the very bear that killed him.
"Purp-purple Guy," the bear shrieked terribly, causing the head to cringe. "H-h-he worked there," Velma's eyes widened. "H-he worked with-with the suits, r-r-remember?"
The bear groaned in response not wanting to recall Purple Guy, but the memories were thrust upon the spirit like a wave to the shore. The video footage and his brother's recollection caused him to remember that man. That terrible, terrible man who had a hand in all of this. Purple Guy was always helping people into the suits, but not the ones onstage. Those were solely animatronics.
"HE FUCKING KNEW! MAYBE H-HE COULD H-HAVE DONE SOMETHIN!" The head wailed wildly, his skin darkening from the tears he spilled and the warmth from them that filled his skull. "MAYBE HE COULDA-COULDA…..saved…y-you….he-he h-had to know…something. No…n-no, he knew. He h-h-had to!" The brother's spirit wearily spoke, his head feeling as heavy as the world despite it being nothing more than his spirit. The soul in the golden bear quietly moaned with sorrow, agreeing with his brother.
"L-l-little man," the older brother spoke up after a moment of silence. "I-I'm not leavin' til-til you're free. T-t-then we…we can g-g-go together. Knowin' Pur-Purple Guy's dead. G-g-got it?"
The bear sharply raised his head, leaning it forward towards the tv. Gazing at the screen, the soul inside stared at the screen. Watching his brother sob and snivel, the soul was neither happy nor sad. Rather, it was filled with anger and a stray sense of hope that maybe he would finally be free from his early fate. He wasn't sure how much he could forgive his brother for what he had unintentionally done, despite his brother stressing that he didn't know.
He had only seen his brother cry when a girl had cheated on him. That was….Lord, the little boy's soul couldn't remember to save his spirit, but he recalled that day. It was a pretty girl, Jessie her name was, and she was dating his brother for a while. She wore her brunette hair in a messy bun and from how it appeared, she loved his brother dearly. When his older sibling found out she had been cheating on him with his best friend, he tore up the posters in his room his best friend gave him, the pictures they had together of holding hands and silly smiles, and smashed everything she had even given him, even her lucky charm. After that, he collapsed in a fit of descending madness and proceeded to cry long into the night. The younger brother remembered hugging him that night and how his older brother allowed him to do so, even crying on his shoulder at one point.
To see that emotion driven brother again, even in the afterlife, meant everything to the child's soul. He watched as his sibling's head tried to shake the tears from his cheeks on the screen. It was a funny image at first, but incredibly heart aching in the sense of this was the only person he had left. He wasn't sure where his parents were or if they were even alive. It was only his brother who somehow and for some reason sought him out which made him now wonder if his parents were dead.
For the first time in this form, the little boy cried. No, no, he didn't just wail. No. This time, rivulets of crimson teared from where his eye sockets would be. The mere weight of his afterlife existence trapped in some limbo of a mechanical suit, not knowing if his parents were alive, his brother's ethereal presence, being unable to reach the other children because he was so weak and if he could move, he could only transport himself to the office or the poster, stripped of any interaction other than the night guard – everything in his mind was reeling as fast as an out of control clock and it all began to crumble on his little spirit shoulders.
The head rolled to his brother and if it could and if he still had hands he would pull his brother (or even that ghostly suit) into his arms as best as he could. He would apologize thoroughly as he had mistakenly done so to the brown Freddy Fazbear only moments before. He would weep on his shoulder and his little brother, his little man would cry into his chest just like so many years ago, and maybe, maybe everything would be all right. For now, he was glad not to have a heart because he swore he would feel it breaking at the sight of this suit seemingly crying.
"L-l-little man," the brother spoke trying to quell or calm the situation at hand. "It-it'll all be over soon, okay?"
The bear's white dots for eyes never left the screen, not even as the suit nodded and the brother forced a miniature smile. His brother would be okay or so he hoped. He wasn't sure how long he had been in that suit or how much more he could withstand. He knew that the end was in sight or so he made himself believe, not wanting to accept the reality that he would possibly be trapped here. Swallowing what he could of his tears and sadness, he locked eyes with his brother. Hope and sorrow culminated together in his tired looking eyes.
"S-see you on-on the other side?" The older brother asked only to be met with a weak roar from the golden bear as it slowly vanished from his view and returned to the poster from whence it came. It lingered there, watching the television screen and what would unravel within the office next.
The head rolled its gaze to Shaggy and Velma and then the pile of folders. The head tried to examine everything while bearing a scowl in regard to its state. Sniffling to eliminate the rest of his tears and snot, his glare turned to Shaggy and Velma. Shaggy slightly retreated, uncertain as to what would occur next. His body hid Velma who poked her head out from his side, warily watching the noggin.
"Are-," he shook his skull, regaining his composure to the best of his ability. "Are you workers here?"
"L-l-like," Shaggy spoke, voice trembling with awe and fright. "I am."
"Y'know who Purple Guy is?" The brother snarled, believing they were allies of the villain.
"No," Velma responded sharply. "But we're trying to figure out who he is. He obviously allowed the bite of '87 to happen and then there were the missing children."
"Missing children?"
"Yes. This year five children vanished – all of them claim it was by his handiwork."
"Are….are they here?"
"Yes. They're in the suits."
The head fell silent, unsure of how to respond. His widened eyes exposed his brain trying to piece her words together and the imagery that followed. Children in the suits? That was recent? He had only just gotten out of therapy. He hadn't been keeping up with the pizzeria, wanting to forget as much as he could. Yet, rumors tend to slip from ear to ear and he swore this was a rumor. However, his therapist had said it would be easier for him to come to terms with this place.
The mere mental pictures of children's bodies in those suits boggled his brain. If he could vomit, he would have done so and for once in his life he was glad to not have a stomach.
"I…," the head started, dumbfounded. "I only thought they were stories meant to keep kids away. Ghost stories, nothing else, but," his eyes bent like his eyebrows, rage unfurling for the perpetrator behind the Bite of '87 and now these children. "That fuck!"
"What do you know about Purple Guy?" Velma hastily inquired, not wanting to lose a lead.
"I don't know much bout him," the head started, anger still vibrating in his voice. "I don't even know his real name. P.G. was on his tag-"
"Like clearly it can't stand for 'Purple Guy'."
"No, those were probably initials for his name."
"He-I turned around after my bro stopped moving. He was watching, still grinning that fuck, he went back where the suits were. He could have helped, why the fuck didn't he help?!"
"How long was he at Fazbear's?" Velma pressed on.
"Since it opened in '80. After that bite though- I don't fucking know." The head growled in irritation. "I stopped goin after that. I don't know what happened to my friends – we all just fell out of touch after. I wound up help trying to take care of the little man, but-" if the head had a fist he would ram it straight into the wall out of pure rage. "It's my fault! It's my fucking fault! I know it is! I was finally coming to terms with everything and now this shit!"
The head stopped speaking, drained from everything this night had brought on. His downcast eyes exposed his sorrow and anger. They were rimmed with exhaustion and his mouth was parted breathing pointless air. His stare locked with Velma and she could see all the wheels in his head slowly spinning to the situation at hand. She could only imagine how wildly they whirled before, but now this spirit wanted nothing more than for everything to come to an end at Fazbear's.
"I suppose I deserve it though." The head solemnly stated.
"Like don't say that man, you didn't-"
"No. No I didn't know," he swallowed. "But I shoulda had some common sense, y'know?"
The room immediately drew into quietness again. They could have agreed with him, but they already knew the bleak situation at hand. They also believed that he could have thought better back then, but he had appeared to learn from his lesson. So much so he went to therapy for it and that day still probably scarred his mind. The ghost head's sigh filled the office with some semblance of sound before bowing his head, not wanting to look at the only people who could possibly help him and his brother. Shame still clung to him, despite having accepted what he had brought on.
"I'll uh, be here, if you need me." The spirit spoke once more, his voice nothing more than a downtrodden whisper.
"No, wait!" Velma called to him, but he was gone in the blink of an eye. The tower of files fell with a loud thud, causing Velma to swiftly turn around to the sound. Shaggy jumped as Velma groaned in irritation and quietly cursed. She had them all organized too and she was halfway through them. Her hands reached out to grab one of the fallen portfolios before noticing the last file. It was old and she swore it smelled of mold and stale pizza. Coffee stains splattered the front, but what caught her eye was the writing on the tab. Smiling, Velma understood. Picking up the file, she muttered a quiet 'thank you' to the spirit before delving in.
Fred groaned in frustration as the wood moaned in protest beneath his strength. Daphne flashed her light over the area, knowing that her power was nothing in comparison to Fred's. Peering over her shoulder, she noticed the animatronics had gathered at the entrance and she jumped a bit in shock, not expecting them to be there.
"Is-is heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-"
"He's trying to get Freddy's Clubhouse opened!?" Troy horribly yelled from the dining hall.
"He thinks there might be something back to help you." Daphne spoke as gently as she could to the other animatronics, her heart rate doing its best to slow to a regular pace. Troy would not step foot near backstage, even now his frame quivered as he inched himself as far away as possible from that section.
"Thereis?!" Tabitha piped up in hope, anxiousness trimming her voice.
"There could be!" Fred called over.
"Let's help him then." Selene's voice called over, striding into the backstage area as Daphne stepped aside to give the golden bird some room. Tabitha followed after despite her shaking animatronic purple rabbit frame, fright had consumed her, but to be free she would have to be strong as Selene had told her before. Even Foxy cautiously entered the room, Andrew's soul operating the eye so it looked around for any danger only to be met with the glaring animatronic heads on the wall.
"IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII," Andrew whacked his chest to stop the glitch voice box. "I've never beeeeeeeeeen back here."
"Whyaretheystaring?"
"It's just your imagination." Or so Daphne would have liked to believe as she spoke and locked eyes with a few of the heads. She swore with every stare, the eyes turned into malicious glares. She couldn't let the fear get to her now, not even as it was building in her throat.
Foxy stood beside Fred as Bonnie and Chica went to the other side of the doorway, their fingers barely fitting beneath the small gap Fred had already created. If Selene still had her throat, she would have swallowed. The soul trembled and she quickly righted her avian frame, needing to be strong for Tabitha. From the corner of her eye, she watched the purple rabbit quiver in terror. Selene couldn't be scared or hesitant now, not when someone as young and influential as Tabitha was leaning on her for support.
"On the count of three we all pull okay?" Fred broke through the air and Bonnie's body seemed to slow its quaking. The animatronics nodded in eager understanding, their freedom was so close at hand.
"1,2,-"
"Like, wait!" Shaggy sprinted in with Velma in tow. The animatronics whipped their heads in the pair's direction, their eyes wide with curiosity and confusion.
"Wait? Why?" Fred asked Shaggy, who tried to catch his breath. Stopping his pulling, the animatronics paused with him while waiting on edge for a response. Bonnie had stopped shaking, staring intently at Shaggy and wondering why he would stop her from being free. Had they not seen the animatronics' suffering and insides? Why would-
"Like tomorrow's the last day for this place being open. Don't you think they'll like find it weird if that wood's off whatever it is?"
How would they explain a slab of wood being pried off its wall to Carl? Did he even care at this point? Yet still it would draw some suspicion and the man hated the fact that people were coming around here trying to solve the mystery of these children. Why he would hate it though was something that baffled all of them and maybe he was the perpetrator behind this. Maybe he was Purple Guy. While that was an entertaining thought (and oh how they entertained it when the mystery began) it was incredibly unlikely. Purple Guy resembled a more chiseled, strong figure as to where Carl appeared to be Danny Devito's brother. Plastic surgery couldn't mend that.
If Carl or an employee took note of a strange wooden board lifted from the wall then he would possibly restrict Shaggy's access. He would possibly fire Shaggy early and take away the keys. He would have cops come to guard the premises at night. He would change the alarms so Shaggy wouldn't know the code and they would get caught and the children would never be freed. They couldn't run that risk. For them to blow it would be costly not only to them, but the children as well. Furthermore, if the police had restrained trespassers from entering the Fazbear premises at night, then what would they do to Mystery Inc. had they told them their story and everything they found? Yet the police seemed to have gotten nowhere in this amount of time. It was something that baffled the gang to the core, but where they supposedly failed, they gained so much more.
"He does have a point." Fred touched upon Shaggy's comment and the animatroncis' eyes locked onto Fred's frame.
"Buuuuuuuuuuuuut we're s-so close!"
"Pleasefreeus!" Tabitha pleaded as Selene wrapped a wing around her shoulder the best she could, glaring at Fred. To have something so precious as freedom snatched away in a second was sickening and she growled darkly in protest.
"We will, but like-"
"We have something that may help." Velma interjected, her heart thumping at the object in her hand.
"What's that?" Daphne asked cautiously, her eyes following Velma's hand as she lifted an employment folder. Arching her brow, she allowed her light to shine on the photograph clinging to the folder.
It appeared to have seen better days with crinkled folds and paper bug chewed edges. A large cold stain blended in with the man's fair skin as he bore a "butt" chin with a rather firm jaw line. Dark eyes pierced Daphne's through the picture and she felt herself retreating from such a direct, firm stare. Velma took note of his broad shoulders and believed the girth to seep into his arms, providing much needed strength to lift things like corpses and animatronic parts. Daphne reeled on her heel at the picture.
"Is that-"
"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat is i-it?" Andrew inquired as he turned around, his animatronic eyes catching the photograph. Velma bit her lip, her hands too slow to withdraw the picture from his gaze.
If Andrew were still human he would squirm his way through the gang and run as far as he could. He would sprint through the doors and race home to his parents, crying and screaming all the way. The backstage door was so close at hand and yet he knew if he reached it, where would he run to? There was no escape. Purple Guy had given him this fate and only the gang could hopefully alter it. Yet the very visage of his murderer was enough to make him want to sprint down the street. Pools of blood welled in his animatronic eyes that glowed like candlelight and if his heart was still pounding, he would feel it sink into his toes. Instead he felt the world around him vanish so that he only focused on the picture. He didn't notice the fox suit he was trapped in shake like a leaf, nor did he hear Tabitha, Selene, or even Fred calling out to him. All he heard were the sounds of his skin being stabbed and his limbs being sliced and his heart quickening then stopping, stopping one last time and he swore he saw the picture contort so that Purple Guy smiled eerily and-
Andrew let out a shriek that was by far the most heartbreaking sound they heard on this venture. The combination of mangled animatronic voicebox merged with a boy who had lost everything and was now confronting the cause, albeit by photograph. It was an unmerciful sound that tore through the surrounding area, causing even Tabitha and Selene to cringe within their metal coffins. If they listened close enough, they would hear Troy whimpering at the scream, knowing the very cause behind it.
"PUUUUUUURPLE PURPLEGUY!?"
"Andrew, it's a picture-," Fred gently reaffirmed and Velma shot him a glare. Even pictures of murderers could revive a damaged psyche especially if it was the victim's. Fred retreated against a wall as the fox shrieked in horror.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HEEEEEEEEEE-"
"HEWASGONEWHYISHEBACK!?"
"Tabitha! Like he's not alive-" Shaggy called out to her, never leaving Velma's side.
"How do you know that?!" Selene barked, ramming her wing into a wall, stepping forward and bearing her rounded teeth at Shaggy.
"Selene, please," Velma chided and cooed, approaching Selene. "We'll find him dead or alive and free you!"
The room was bathed in tension, Shaggy's frightened eyes meeting the glowing orbs of Chica, Velma's glare now falling upon Fred and hiding the portfolio behind her back. Daphne was caught between Fred and Foxy, white knuckles gripping her chest trying to push her heart back inside as it beat loudly with terror. Fred was reaching for Daphne and Foxy to comfort both if not either one, breaking from his position against the wall. He should have realized Andrew would have been scared and he bit his lip to get a grip on reality and to bite back a furious question of why didn't Velma take the profile away sooner. Maybe then Andrew wouldn't have screamed and this wouldn't have unfurled, but he supposed the tension was bound to unravel sooner or later.
It seemed the whole establishment seemed to draw to a still. Silence even fell upon Troy who stopped whimpering. It was as though everyone had turned into a statue, frozen for days to come, eyes never leaving each other, wondering what move the other would make. Not even a breath was taken, in fear it would cause something to fall.
However, the smallest of sniffles was made by one little rabbit and the tension quickly shattered.
From this snivel, that rotted corpse cologne tumbled forth and filled the room causing everyone to start breathing normally. It was a scent they didn't want to breathe in, but they had to get something in their lungs. There were a few coughs which only caused a wail to grow from the purple rabbit whose eye sockets were filled with garnet, the stench of blood now culminating with the cologne. Her mouth was parted, giving way to a brief glimpse of what she was and who she was and Shaggy turned white.
He had imagined what she looked like – dreamed what she looked like since the night that Velma had checked out Selene. It was a face he never wanted to see in real life and yet here it was. It was mangled and rotten and he swore he saw small beams penetrate cheek bones and run through where the nose would be. There were no eyes (probably long eaten by now), there were a few teeth, there were what appeared to be yellowed bones wrapped in coils, and by God did he want to run more than he had ever wanted to in his lifetime. But he couldn't run. He had to look down (staring would be rude), but he couldn't bring his neck to look down, look down damnit! His body was paralyzed with fear as it had been throughout the venture and it turned his stomach into cartwheels tumbling throughout his skeleton. He could his heart stop, knowing terror had a strangle hold on it and he couldn't break the grip, he couldn't get out, he needed to -
"Ijust…Ijustwantogetout." Tabitha sobbed, her tiny voice breaking the remaining thickness in the air. Her jaws came to a close again, hiding her true self. She had spoken not only what was on her mind, but Shaggy's mind as well and his heart burst back into action struggling out of the grip. Thank God there was only one more night to go.
Selene slowly withdrew her offensive stance from Shaggy and turned to see the purple rabbit whose crimson tears streaked her cheeks. She had to admit she had taken on a rather protective yet sisterly relationship with Tabitha in their time together. She wasn't open to others, but there was something in knowing that a child (much younger than herself) was trapped inside a mechanical casket that made her heart soften. Was it pity? She didn't know. Sympathy most likely and it spread throughout Selene like the flu. Besides, someone had to comfort her – death had to be scarier as a child than it was as a teenager.
"Hey, it-" Selene started, lowering the edge in her voice to a bare minimum and doing her best to construct a calm tone.
"Idon'twannasmellanymore!Iwannagetout!" Tabitha's shoulders slumped and her head bowed as best as it could, causing blood to spill from the mouth and nostrils and drip onto the floor.
"After this, we won't stink." Selene spoke. "We'll be what we used to be."
"Wewon'tbealive,Selene!"
"I know. But we'll be out of these suits and away from here. We can go wherever we want. It'll be okay."