Tuesday, February 9, 1993. 10:32:12 PM

He started up with a groan. His parts were old, and it was difficult to get his body moving. Freddy was insisting that they should be trying harder, the sooner the nightwatchman was gone, the sooner they'd have the money to pay for repairs. Not minor repairs, such as a torn suit, or a spliced wire, something like the corrosion that plagues their endoskeletons, replacing huge chunks of machinery, perhaps even completely new parts, Bonnie had been complaining about his arm, and Chica's head kinda tilted to one side… He himself needed a replacement of a few parts that made up his spine and his mouth, both of which were failing.

"Pu Ruoo." Golden Freddy noted, watching the animatronic slowly get to his feet.

"No, I'm still asleep. That's why I'm up and talking." He stretched, making sure he would be limber for the night. Golden Freddy gave a laugh, low and demonic, yet full of mirth."Shut up." Foxy growled at the near-broken animatronic. "I was on the football team."

"Rus u arrr…" Golden Freddy laughed, hopping slightly up and down.

"Well, let me test my punting ability." He pulled a leg back to kick the head. The laughing immediately stopped. "That's what I thought." He resumed his stretching, determined to catch the human and have this whole stupid game be over with.

Wednesday, February 10, 1993. 2:39:40 AM

The cameras clicked all over the restaurant, choosing angles that would help the guard with his attempts at staying alive. It has been a while since he checked the camera pointed at Pirate's Cove, and Foxy was starting to feel bold. His hook pulled apart the curtain ever so slightly, and checked outside with the eye that didn't hold the patch. As if it reminded him, he lifted the patch so he had both eyes.

"I don't know if I can do this, Fred." Foxy mumbled to the head, sitting in the corner. "I've never really killed… a person, before." He told the head.

"Onu, ai." The head spoke. "Ti tege-for ut ai-tr."

"I… I can't forget it." He pulled his head in as the human checked the Pirate's Cove feed. "Everyone thinks I can just forget that day, but I can't!" He shouted in frustration, his hand clutched at his side. He was frustrated. "You don't know what it's like!" He shouted suddenly.

"... Foxy… I…" The bear head shuddered as he slowly pronounced each syllable, obviously causing a great strain on him.

"... It's okay, Fred, you don't have to say it." Foxy mumbled, just loud enough for Golden Freddy to hear.

"I… sssoooooorryyy." It slowly sounded out the word, face contorted in concentration.

"... It's okay, Fred, don't beat yourself up over it." He glanced outside the curtains once more. "... I'll be back. I need to make an attempt, at least." With that, he jumped out of the curtains and ran straight for the door. He zoomed past Bonnie, nearly knocking the slow mover over.

He was right in front of the door when it slammed close. He hit it at full speed and toppled over.

"You deserve that. For yesterday." Bonnie told the toppled animatronic, standing over him.

"Shut up, rabbit." Foxy growled and slowly managed to get on his exposed animatronic legs. The rabbit only watched him, not offering a hand to help. He didn't consider him a part of the Fazbear Family, not one of them. None of them did, really.

"It was a great shot. Perhaps you should have leapt at him." Bonnie gave a large, dark grin. He knew very well why he couldn't do that anymore.

"Maybe you should sprint at him!" The pirate animatronic growled and made his way back to Pirate's Cove.

"Where are you going? He can't have much power left!" Bonnie shouted after him.

"My back is hurting!" The fox growled in reply, before slipping back between the curtains. It would be a difficult "rest."

He tossed and turned, the cold concrete hard on his metal back. Sleep wouldn't come for him, not now. Phantom aches was all over his worn, mechanical body, and he had no way of fixing them.

"Dulo rra u." Golden Freddy commented from his corner.

"At least I have a body!" He shouted tiredly at the head.

"Skaa o-nn vaah ai." Golden Freddy laughed smally. Foxy ignored him and allows his eyes to travel to what the children had made him. There was a picture of him, standing on a poorly drawn stage, claw to his chest, hook held high, seeming to vomit out a gigantic music note. There was a caption: "My First Day at Fazbear Pizzeria." The first ever Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, after Fazbear Entertainment bought Fredbear's Family Diner from its original owner.

Despite being stuffed into the animatronic after they withered away when that one closed down, before the Toys were scrapped, he remembered those days vaguely from the memory of the unit. He sat back, the memories taking him over...

…

It was different in those days. Fazbear Pizzeria didn't need to be a twenty year old giant to be popular. In fact, it was one of the most favored places for a child's birthday party. For hours, the animatronics on stage would sing and play, entertaining the children for most of the time. However… in a separate room, there was Pirate Cove. It was a special room, for any parent that specifically asked for it. It costed a hefty fee to use, more so than the general ruckus outside, it was more quiet, and it only needed one animatronic.

Foxy was smarter than many animatronics. Not more so than any nowadays, but at the time a lot of money had went into the animatronic, so it could be able to interact directly with the children. Foxy had twenty different stories that he randomly chose from, and never told the same one in one day. He told tales of his adventures as a pirate, which involved many a moment taken bursting into song, and finding chests filled to the brim with Fazzbear tokens, and even taking a child from the audience to "do battle" with foam swords, which always ended in the animatronic with a sword between his arm and body, feigning death.

His favorite memory, though, was of a certain birthday party, a week or two before Fazbear Pizzeria closed. He was entertaining a child, the candle on his birthday cake molded into an "8." The party had been very successful for the animatronic, and the children were chatting excitedly between each other. The mother, baby in one arm, lighter in the other, called for silence… and lit the candle on the cake. All was quiet for the longest moment… and the whole group started singing "Happy Birthday." Once the song ended, the boy turned to him, to the animatronic.

"C'mon, Foxy, help me blow out the candles!" He had called. The animatronic searched through his extensive database, searching for the proper response. The animatronic, of course, came up with none, as the creator of the characters didn't think that a child would ask such a question. He didn't move, staring questioningly at the boy. His smile slowly faded into a tight frown.

"Maybe Foxy doesn't know how to." The child's mother told him softly, gently patting his back. The child gave a sad sigh, and leaned in to blow it out. To his surprise, Foxy slowly lumbered down from where he stood, down from the stage, and walked up to the boy. His face beamed with delight as Foxy leaned down next to him, his hooked arm resting on the back of his chair, and put his head right next to the boy's. And in one synchronized moment, the two blew out the candles. The party was silent a moment, before applause erupted throughout the room. Foxy took a step back, away from the boy, and clapped his hook and claw together, with a congratulatory grin on his fang-filled mouth.

As everyone was leaving, the mother, child holding one hand and baby curled up in her other arm, walked up to him. He looked nervous, shuffling his legs.

"C'mon, show Foxy what you did." The mother whispered to him softly. He fidgeted more, not doing anything for a full minute, before hastily holding out a napkin to him. The animatronic frowned smally, and gently took it from him. He lifted his eye patch with his hook and studied the gift. The boy had unfolded it, so it was a square almost the size of copier paper. He had a red, furry creature, with one yellow eye, a blue eye patch, and a blue hook. It took the animatronic a moment to process that it was meant to be him, standing on stage, and singing. He glanced down at the child and gave a smile, as his instructions told him to do.

"I love it." He told the boy. "Y'ar gonna be a great artist one day."

"Y-You think so, Foxy?" The birthday boy grinned brightly, excited.

"I know so. T'was great havin' a firs' mate like you." He slurred. It surprised the animatronic when the boy pulled him close into a hug. Again, the animatronic was stumped, the database of reactions were empty, and provided no response. And again, Foxy seemed to act on some outside force, and returned the hug, carefully not spearing him with his hook.

Yes, it was different now. Now, all the children were scared of the animatronics. Now very few people showed up. Now old Foxy was "out of order" behind the curtains of Pirate's Cove- with two perspectives of that memory. He gave a sigh, looking at the ceiling.

"I didn't quite become an artist…" The animatronic mumbled and closed his eyes.