Just so you guys know, I started writing this, no one knew who was responsible for the Bite of '87. I know it was actually Fredbear.
One last thing, if anyone wants to make fanart of this story, go right ahead.
{Angel's POV}
It's been a couple of weeks. My shoulder is healing nicely; in fact it's almost healed completely.
In this time I still have been going to work, yes even the factory. A-1 has been as bad as ever, and all I could do was give direction to the other employees while they fixed the kitties. But on to the night job.
Over the past couple of weeks I've been building something of a routine with the 'tronics at the Pizzeria. I arrive around five minutes after 12:00 to give them a chance to move around without me there (I know, I know, I'm not 'on time'), I set up, grab the tablet from the office, and do a once-over of the Pizzeria every hour. I leave them be, and all is well.
So here I sit, at the table, with my laptop running and the tablet in my hands. Chica was in the kitchen, Bonnie on stage tuning his guitar, Freddy was sitting at another table reading the paper, and Foxy, last I checked, was in Pirate's Cove. Freddy chuckled.
"Wow. Some days I truly question the human race. No offence,".
"None taken. Is that the story of the man who called the police on the mailman?" Freddy nodded.
"I can agree with you Freddy. Some days I'm embarrassed to be a part of this race," I checked the tablet to see Foxy peeking his head out of the Cove, one of his ears swiveling back and forth.
"Hey Freddy," the bear lifted his head. "Does Foxy normally hang out with you guys during the night?"
"Sometimes. Not as much as he used to. We had a, uh, quarrel, Foxy and I. He's been something of a recluse ever since," I pondered this for a second.
"Would you mind if I asked him to join us?" I carefully asked. I had a feeling this little 'quarrel' between Freddy and Foxy ran a little deeper than I thought.
"If you want. I can't guarantee he will," Freddy stated, his nose in the paper. I got up, and made my way over to Pirate's Cove. The purple curtain was splashed with stars, and was slightly tattered along the bottom.
"Hey, Foxy," I called out quietly as not to disturb him. "If you want to join us in the Dining Area, you're more than welcome," I thought I heard the clicking and whirring of a worn-out endo, but I wasn't sure. So I left it at that, and went back to the Dining Area.
Freddy was now on the back of the paper, reading what I believed to be the obituaries. I went back to my seat, and picked up the tablet, checking Pirate's Cove. The curtains were still closed.
"You don't know a Tyler Montgomery, do you?" My head snapped up. Freddy was looking at me.
"Who?" I questioned, my heart starting to beat just a little quicker.
"Tyler Montgomery. It says here he passed...wait. April 22? That was two months ago," Freddy flipped to the front of the paper. "This was published in April," I slapped my forehead with my hand.
"I'm sorry, I grabbed the wrong one. I'll bring you the right one tomorrow," Freddy looked at me a little suspiciously, but went back to the obituary section of the paper.
"So do you know Tyler Montgomery?" he asked again.
"Why, did you know him?" I inquired. I wanted to see where this would go.
"I did actually. He was a nightguard here. I was curious since you have the same last name," Freddy scratched the back of his head.
"Well, in that case, yes I did know him," I put the tablet down, and clasped my hands, resting them on the table. "He was my husband,".
Freddy started to fidget, he put the newspaper down and tapped his hands on the table.
"I know what you did, Freddy," I said in a low voice. I tried in vain to keep the anger out of it.
Freddy put his hands up in a pleading gesture. "Angel, look, it had to be done," he pleaded. I made a face of mock surprise.
"It had to be done? That's you excuse," I chuckled. "Wow. I honestly thought you could come up with something better,"
He opened his mouth, and closed it, obviously stressed.
"Look, Angel," he began, looking around the Dining Area, as if looking for someone. "We can talk this out. Just… just give me time to explain," I nodded.
"Yes, we can talk it out," I smiled. "But only if you learn how to speak bullet," I snarled as I pulled my gun from it's holster and fired.
Freddy's hat flew off his head as he fell back in his chair. He stood shakily to his feet. "Angel. Angel, I-I'm sorry," he stammered.
"SORRY!?" I shouted. The anger I had kept in for almost 2 months bubbled to the surface. I could feel my face contorting as I shouted at Freddy.
"How do you explain 'sorry' to my seven year old daughter, who has been asking 'where's Daddy' for the past two months!? I've had to tell her that he was in India for a surprise journaling trip, because I didn't have the heart to tell her that her father was killed by her favorite mascots!" Freddy flinched at my words. He had backed himself into the wall, and had tried to move along it to a door, but he was so focused on the gun in my hand to move.
"Angel! What are you doing!?" Chica was yelling behind me. I could hear Bonnie's ear whirring as he twitched them about. I pulled back the hammer on the gun with a click.
"Angel!" Chica yelled again.
"Angel, put the gun down!" Bonnie pleaded. I placed my hand on the trigger. Freddy's eyes were darting from the gun to me. I heard someone making their way over to me. I started to squeeze the trigger…
My gun arm was grabbed and pulled to the side, and an arm wrapped around my shoulders across my front, holding me against something metallic. I was too stunned to move.
"How about we not shoot Freddy, ye savvy?" a voice drawled in my ear. I sighed. Foxy. I tried to break from his grasp.
"Strugglin' won't help ye lass," Foxy growled.
"Let me go," I muttered, trying to pull Foxy's arm off of my chest with my free hand.
"Drop the gun lass," Foxy replied. I tried pulling his arm again. It wouldn't budge.
"Drop. The. Gun, lass," the fox repeated. I noticed Freddy giving me a worried look.
"Why?" I asked forcefully. Foxy responded by pulling on my arm with the gun, the one that he injured. I felt a twinge of pain through my shoulder as the remaining stitches pulled against the skin. I let the gun slip through my fingers, letting it crash to the floor.
Foxy kicked the gun away, and released me. I stumbled a little, gently rolling my shoulder. It felt okay. I looked up to see everyone staring at me. One face worried, one confused, two angry. My watch beeped. 3:00 a.m.
"Give me a moment please," I breathed, and took off down the West Hall.
{Freddy's POV}
I was beginning to question whether or not Angel should stay here.
Her gun was sitting on the table now, still cocked; Foxy was the only one who would touch it. I realized that she had purposely given me the wrong newspaper, so that I would see Tyler's name, and fess up. What I said was true. It had to be done.
{Angel's POV}
I felt my legs give out when I made it to the office. I pressed a button on the remote, closing the doors. The anger still inside me, fueled by adrenaline, gave me the strength to angrily launch myself at the chair, collapsing into it. I rolled myself off it, and pushed myself to the wall. I've been told, by several people now, that I need to take anger management classes, but I disagree. A few minutes ago I was attempting to avenge my husband by shooting an animatronic bear, but now I was wondering what the fuck I was thinking.
How was shooting Freddy going to solve anything? Freddy said 'it had to be done', and unless the 'tronics kill in cold blood, then Tyler did something do deserve his fate.
{Chica's POV}
We all watched as Angel walked back to the table. She sat down, and rested her head in her hands. She looked exhausted.
"That was perhaps the most unprofessional and immature thing I have ever done, and I am sorry. That was not how I wanted to handle that," she said, looking up at Freddy. His face was unreadable. Angel reached forward, and we all tensed as she picked up the gun. She looked at it, sighed, the uncocked it, and placed it back into it's holster. She leaned her elbows on the table, her face in her hands.
"From what I now of my husband, he was king, and fun to be around. When I was still in college, I was one of the best in my class, and I would hold, I guess one could call them seminars, on animatronics. He went to everyone, and he took so many notes. He literally had at least five spiral notebooks full of notes. I thought he was just doing this to make me happy, or maybe he was actually interested. One thing I did know is he had a reason. 'It had to be done', you said. He had to be gotten rid of. Unless you do this for fun," we all tensed at that. "which you most likely don't, as you had the chance to kill me at least once already, and you didn't. But there's more; he must have tampered with you guys. I remember noticing one of my A.I. scanners was missing. Using one of them is one of the easiest ways to tamper with an 'tronic,".
"A.I. scanner?" Freddy questioned. She walked over to her bag, and pulled out a device that looked like, I think they called it a graphing calculator.
"This device is used to get inside a 'tronic's intelligence and change things, reset things, and so on." Angel explained. She placed the device back in the bag.
"So, what did he do to you?" She was looking at Freddy, her body tensed.
"He didn't do anything," Freddy stated. Angel's eyebrows furrowed together in apparent confusion. She started back towards the table.
"But he threatened to," Freddy added as Angel pulled a chair out. She turned to face him, her mouth opening into a silent 'oh'. She then sat down.
"So, he didn't actually tamper with you guys, but he threatened to, and because of that, you...took care of him," I silently thanked Angel for not saying 'kill'.
"It makes sense, don't get me wrong. You want to protect your family, keep them safe. But in the process you pretty much destroyed mine. You made me a widow and took a father away from his child," Angel stated, a bit a fire sparkling in her eyes. Freddy cast his eyes down, as if he were a child being rebuked.
"I'm not going to rat you out though. You guys already got it bad enough, and Gaia would have found out in the end, and that's something I don't want to happen just yet," Freddy lifted his head. He looked relieved. Angel picked up the tablet and started to scan through the cameras. We took this as a sign that everything was okay. Bonnie went back to the stage, and I to the kitchen.
As I finished the dishes, I thought back to Tyler. When he threatened us, he had said something like 'I'm doing this to keep my daughter safe'. His daughter, Gaia, who apparently love us. Well, that just makes perfect sense now doesn't it?
{Angel's POV}
The others left to do their thing, except for Freddy. He sat at the table, reading his paper. Then he finished it, and went backstage to do, whatever he would do backstage. Minding the tablet was easy enough. The constant drone of the fluorescent lights was going to make me batty. I was so focused on the tablet and lights that I didn't hear the footsteps until they were almost next to me. I looked up and Foxy froze mid-step. He put his foot down and shifted awkwardly.
"Ye said if I wanted t' join ye I was more than welcome," I smiled at his words, and patted the seat next to me.
He sat there, ear flicking about as he nervously glanced backstage.
"How's your shoulder?" the pirate suddenly asked.
"It's healing very nice actually," I replied, looking up from the tablet. "No stitches have been pulled," Foxy nodded his head in relief.
"I'm sorry for rippin' a hole in your shoulder," I was a little surprised by Foxy apologizing.
"It's all right. It was the first thing you thought to do. You saw me as the enemy," I looked at him thoughtfully, attempting to take in his features without looking like a pervert. He looked worn down, a hole in the chest piece of his suit, and both his legs were showing his endo. I remembered the sign outside Pirate's Cove: Out of Order. Was he put out of order for the Bite of '87? Hmm, we'll find out soon enough.
"Thank ye for being so kind lass," Foxy muttered. "T' other night-guards would have just teased me and shut t' door in me face."
"Is that what Tyler did?" I asked. Foxy nodded.
"He called me a walkin' skeleton," Foxy said quietly, his ears flicking back. I was about to make a kind comment when he spoke again.
"However, skeletons are sorta pirate themed, right? Ye see them in caves, on ghost ships, and apparently in pizzerias too," He started chuckling, and I quietly joined in.
So Foxy isn't dangerous. All four accounted for.