AN: Thank you all for the amazing response so far, I didn't think this would get so much attention so quickly, the support means a lot to me. I read every review. Praise, critique, predictions, and comments alike, and I'm grateful for all the feedback.

I'd like to give special thanks to SpaceCat010, and relatingewe for helping with the creative process.

Chapter 2: Cheap Plastic Knock-offs

Foxy slowly pulled back the curtains of his cove, just enough to let him see outside into the main room. Nobody seemed to be around. No lights were on, the stage was empty, and not a sound could be heard. As far as he was concerned, the coast was clear.

Cautiously, he stepped onto the tile floor, pausing once he was on his two feet to make sure no one heard anything. After a moment passed with no noises being made, and no footsteps approaching, Foxy quietly began making his way out of the dining room and down the hall.

As he walked, he was reminded of his talk with Marionette a few nights ago. Marionette had warned Foxy of something out there, a place that apparently, he might end up if he were to run away. The vulpine wasn't really sure what to make of it, either. Staying here was nothing but an endless hell for him, but if the outside was really that much of a threat as well, was it really any better to escape?

As that thought entered his mind, it was cut off as he finally arrived at the entrance to the restaurant. The only thing between him and what could be freedom were the two glass doors towering over him. He could see the outside world through them, almost like they were taunting him. It was dark out, street lamps illuminated the parking lot outside, as well as the sidewalks and roads leading to it. It looked like it had rained recently, the wet roads reflecting the dim warm lights off of them. It looked peaceful out there, so much that it felt relaxing just to look at it.

Reaching his hand out to the door handle, Foxy hesitated, before pulling his hand back. His mind raced with possibilities of the decision he had to make. He could rot away here, or fight back and likely die trying. He could escape this place and run away, live out the rest of his days in peace, probably hiding in a scrapyard, or he could find that place Marionette mentioned.

Or, it could find him.

Before he could even begin to dive into the potential dangers of each choice, something snapped him back to reality.

He heard a voice call out to him. A voice that was all too painfully familiar.

"Foxy?"

He didn't dare turn around, not yet. Instead, he looked closely in the reflection on the glass doors. A white and pink frame, just barely visible, showed itself in the faint outline. She slowly approached him with careful, timid steps.

She stopped about an arm's length away from him, nervously holding her left elbow.

"What do you want, Mangle?" Foxy said, his voice in a low dead tone. Aggressive, but not lively in the slightest.

"What are you doing out here? You shouldn't be out of your cove like this, if they catch you out again-"

"Are you serious? You think I somehow forgot what they've done to me?"

"Then why are you out again?" Mangle asked, speaking with the same tone someone would roll their eyes in.

"I don't see why that concerns you, I have a right to be in this place just as much as anyone else."

"You know they don't care about that," Mangle was more clearly irritated now, "Why do you have to make this so difficult-"

"I don't know Mangle, why are you pretending to care?" Foxy snapped back at her.

She seemed to reel back a bit at that.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You made your use of me when we first met, and as soon as you were done with me you moved on and acted like I never even existed. So why are you pretending to care? Did you just want to mock me some more?" Foxy spat, his voice starting to break free from its cold tone into something far more aggravated.

Mangle could certainly sense the tension beginning to rise, as her voice became quieter.

"I just… I just don't want to see you get hurt, Foxy."

Foxy grit his teeth hearing her say that. He briefly glanced down at his legs.

"I suppose that's why you always look away when it happens, then?"

"What-"

Foxy leaned towards her, getting uncomfortably close. "You think I don't see you in the back? You never even try to say anything, you just stand there looking at the floor."

"Foxy I-"

"You what? You can't be bothered to help me?"

"How am I supposed to do that, huh?" Mangle said, her voice tinged with frustration, "Ask nicely?"

"You managed to talk your way into their little group, surely you could get them off my back if you would even try, or at least give half a damn."

"I am trying!" -Mangle threw her arms up- "If you would just do what they say I wouldn't need to help you in the first place!"

Foxy raised his eyebrows at her, "Oh, just do what they say? I suppose you're right; I'll just go kill myself for being such an inconvenience to you."

"That's not what I meant."

"Then by all means Mangle, tell me what you meant."

The silence that followed was deafening, though short lived. Mangle stood there with her mouth open eagerly waiting to retaliate, yet nothing came out. Foxy's face began to lose its stoicism; his anger began seeping out as his snout began to curl into a snarl.

"After everything I did for you," Foxy spat at her, gesturing with his arms in frustration, "you can't even be bothered to help me, even once."

"I'm trying-"

"Are you? You haven't done a single thing for me the entire time you've been here!"

Mangle didn't try to respond to that, sinking further into her reclusive posture, tightening her grip on her arm, and lowering her face to her feet.

"When you arrived here you were a mess, you couldn't even speak. No one cared except for me, I fixed you! I used my own parts to fix you!"

Foxy prodded her with the blunt edge of his hook with each sentence he spoke, pushing her back as he stepped closer.

"But I apologize, I'm sorry after all that I was just too boring for you," Foxy spat at her with a low growl in the back of his throat, "hope you found yourself a more interesting life hanging around with those cheap plastic knock-offs; I'm sure you feel right at home."

"They're better people than you ever were!" Mangle cried back at him, her voice choked up.

"They're murderers and liars Mangle! You don't know what they did!"

"Says the monster who killed a little girl!"

Foxy's eyes snapped to her.

An overwhelming silence filled the hallway, with a tension hanging so thick in the air you could practically cut it.

Mangle sank into herself as she looked into Foxy's eyes. It wasn't until now that she realized just how his eyes glowed. It seemed more like a red than the golden color they were supposed to be. Underneath his glare, no lights on around them, those eyes were probably the only notable light source. She could feel every ounce of hatred burning into her from the stare.

"You best be choosing your next words very carefully, Mangle..." he said, bringing up his hooked hand between them, dangerously close to her. That growl in the back of his throat grew into the rest of his voice, like he was on the verge of shouting.

"T-tell me I'm wrong then, say you didn't kill her-"

Foxy immediately swung his hook at Mangle, who shrieked and tripped onto the floor, narrowly dodging the blade.

"I never would have killed her if Fred didn't make me!"

"You're making excuses!-"

Foxy lunged at her, swiping again with the hook.

This time, it nicked her ear, taking out a tiny slice on the outer edge. Foxy surprised even himself with that. His hook was a cheap prop, sure it looked nice and was made out of a decent enough metal, but he never thought it could actually cut anyone. Then again, knowing what his jaw was capable of… he didn't want to think about it.

That minor injury was what it took to make Mangle realize just how much she had really angered the fox. She scrambled backwards while still on the floor, grabbing her ear.

"Y-you… you cut my ear!" Mangle yelled at Foxy, too frightened for her voice to sound anywhere near as angry as she wanted it to.

Foxy didn't even acknowledge her cry, still completely absorbed with rage as his mind mulled over every little thing that had happened the past few years.

"You can come up with whatever ignorant lies it takes to justify what you've done to me all you want," Foxy spat at her, "but don't you dare call me a monster!"

"You are a monster!"

"Oh, I'm the monster? You and those bastards have taken advantage of me, betrayed me, called me a liar, and broken me apart! And, somehow, I'm the monster?!" he pressed on, barely able to repress his voice from shouting, "After everything you did to me, everything those scumbags did to my friends, I'm the monster?!"

"Your friends?"

Foxy's eyes widened for only a moment, quickly narrowing as he came to a sudden realization.

"Oh… so they never told you, did they? They must be so trustworthy…"

"Shut up! You're just trying to make me doubt them, I'm not falling for more of your lying bullshit!"

"I'm the only person in this building who hasn't lied to y- Argh!"

Before he had the chance to finish, Mangle kicked the exposed endoskeleton of his legs. Not having any protection around his legs made every kick and flail against them hurt so much more. Foxy reeled back, falling on his knee while Mangle shot up, running off. No doubt she was off to go complain to the rest of the gang. There was no telling how bad of a beating Foxy would be in for after this, or if he'd even survive. Foxy panicked, made a split-second decision, and began chasing after her.

He'd have to pull something to keep her from sending the others after him.

Even in the condition his legs were in, Foxy was still the fastest animatronic in the entire building. He spotted an open door in the hallway, the security office. Mangle hadn't made it far at all before Foxy sprinted after her, catching up quickly. She didn't even have the time to turn around before Foxy dove at her, tackling her and sending them both tumbling into the office. Catching himself on his feet, he felt the weight of his landing strain on his legs. He looked up at Mangle, who was struggling to get up as well, though more due to her not expecting to be tackled into this room than just a bad landing.

He had no idea what to do now. He couldn't let her tell them, but what was he going to do? Ask her nicely to not tell them why she had a cut ear? Even if there was any good faith between them before this, it would be gone now. After all the shit they did to him, it'd be his own pissed-off mistake that did him in.

"Mangle," Foxy began speaking slowly, taking even slower steps towards her, "just… just listen to me."

Mangle wasn't listening, she had already backed herself against the wall at this point, as if her life were in danger. She frantically looked around, hoping to find something to defend herself with.

Foxy reached his arm out to her, attempting to calm her down.

That was a mistake.

"Mangle I'm not trying to hurt you-"

"Get away from me!" she screamed at him. Mangle grabbed the nearest object she could find, the fan, and jammed it into his hand, trapping his hook inside its cage as the stiff metal blades of the fan jammed against it, bending and contorting his hook into a jagged, uncurled mess.

"My hook!"

Foxy pulled back, tugging at his hook lodged in the fan. Mangle ran out of the room, not even waiting to witness what she had done. Finally yanking his hook out of the fan, Foxy's eyes were fixated on his jagged, ruined hook. He ran his hand along the blade, with barely any pressure, the tip broke off as his finger ran across it.

He didn't have any time to get upset, no time to get any angrier than he already was. He heard the footsteps approaching like an army's war drums. Mangle had clearly told the group, and they were on their way to deliver the beating of a lifetime… or rather one to end it.

Foxy threw the fan to the floor, and bolted as fast as he could to the only place he was safe in this horrid building.

The vulpine slammed the door behind him, putting all of his weight against the door as he braced it. In mere seconds the door was bombarded with slams and pounds from the other side.

"Get out of there, you damn trash!"

"You can't hide in there forever!"

Foxy's ears grew numb to the shouts almost instantly. They blurred together with the banging like hostile, static noise.

Carefully, he let go of the door, only inching his hand away from it until he trusted it to stay up on its own. He stepped back and looked at it until he was sure it'd hold. He backed away, turning around, heading right back to the same spot he always sat in when he needed to fix himself up. Walking past the shut-down bodies of his old friends, he put his back to the wall and slid down, landing on his backside with a clank. His legs stretched out and his eyes closed, while his head tilted upwards. He slammed his fist on the floor before relaxing it and letting out a sigh.

Foxy raised his left hand, bringing his head down to look towards his hook. It was completely ruined. "Hook" wasn't even a fitting word for it now, more like a bent and curved dagger with the end broken off.

The whole thing was just completely mangled.

That bitch.

All she had to do was leave him alone, but no, she just couldn't manage to do that. No, instead she had to go out of her way to harass him, call him a monster, ruin his hook, and go sic the rest of the gang on him over a little cut.

Foxy thought to himself a moment. He got caught up in his anger again, and he did cut her ear… No. No! That doesn't even come near to anything she's done to him! Fairness? This was nothing remotely close to fair!

Mangle used him. When she first showed up, she was a mess. Foxy fixed her! He used just about every part of his own he could spare to do it! And what did she do when he was finished fixing him? She turned on him and joined Fred's little gang, standing by idly while they'd beat and break him. Hell, she broke his left ear to fit in with the rest of the toys, yet now she had the gall to come up and act like she gave a shit? Like she wanted to help? She was quick to go back to her usual self, calling him a monster and believing every little lie Fred and his friends told her.

A single, small cut on her ear was nothing close to fair.

Foxy's mind was stuck on this, mulling over the shit he had been through while he tried desperately to fix his hook. The bit of the end that broke off was long gone, still somewhere in the security office, but he still had the majority of the hook intact.

Even if it was bent to hell.

Foxy turned to the pile of tools he usually grabbed from, muttering "channel locks" under his breath over and over while searching the pile. He clicked his tongue, too tired to even make a celebratory grunt when he crabbed the pair of clamp-like tools.

With them, he bent and contorted his hook back into its original shape, his decrepit arms shaking as he bent the metal back into place. Every time he bent something back where it belonged, some other part of the hook would move back out of line. There was no way in hell he'd be able to fix this, especially with the end broken off. With every failed attempt to fix it Foxy gritted his teeth harder, beginning to growl as he grew more and more frustrated. His hands were shaky now, losing control of just how much force he exerted with every twist of the clamps. He was working faster than he could really handle, and with one slip up-

Snap!

Foxy's eyes widened as he broke off another section of the end of the hook.

He was at his limit.

"God damnit!"

He squeezed down on the clamps in his hand and swung his arm, throwing them across the room and hitting the wall opposite of him with a loud clunk.

He was tired, tired of everything. As he sat there with his mind growing weary, he noticed something was different than usual. Foxy looked around the room, his gaze pausing on each of his deactivated friends for just a second. Sure enough, Fred's gang of bastards had already given up on breaking into the room, their shadows clearly absent from the light underneath the door. Most importantly however, Marionette wasn't anywhere, not even hiding in the shadows as far as Foxy could tell.

Marionette always seemed to pop up when things got bad. It seemed as if he always knew what was going on in this room. He had a way of coming in at just the right time to help Foxy calm down or talk through something. Foxy knew he was a bit hot-tempered; the most aggressive out of the original bunch. And, as if earlier wasn't enough to make it clear, he was the least likely to think something through before doing it. Marionette always knew exactly what to say to help him through that. Not like he was correcting him, but more so guiding him to a better answer.

Years ago, he had vanished like this, just disappearing one night, seemingly never to return. Until, that is, a few months ago. At least it felt like that- Foxy's sense of the passage of time was deteriorating. When Marionette did turn up, he seemed to already be aware of the state of things, but he was clearly shocked when he saw it firsthand.

Ever since that night he always talked to Foxy, and that was sorely missed tonight.

Foxy remembered that last conversation they had. Marionette's disappearance sure lined up with his story about another place, somewhere else he could exist. Somewhere that had grown dangerous, where he would be just as likely to die as he was here. Foxy's doubts about that place even existing had been going away from the night he heard of it. Likely due to some combination of it making more and more sense, and hoping that it really would exist.

Here in the Pizzeria, everyone wanted him dead. He was slowly falling apart, piece by piece as his body was more akin to a scrapped model of what he used to be than an actual animatronic. His friends had long since passed, existing as constant reminders of the constant hell he lived in. There was nothing left for him here anymore.

Shakily, Foxy stood up. Stretching himself out and relaxing his legs. He hadn't had a chance to run that fast in a long, long time. Strangely, it felt good. Foxy even caught himself beginning to smile at the thought of how he got to clear that hallway in mere seconds, even if his legs were strained because of it.

He thought about that for a minute. Now more than ever, this place was going to be nothing but hell for him.

He had no reason to stay here anymore.

'Not like they'd miss me anyway.'