Fred went into his office straight away, something he has never done since his father passed down the family business in 2005, running it flawlessly for a full decade. He sat in his chair, in front of his computer, tears silently streaming down his cheeks, slowly, Freddie not even bothering to wipe them off. Everything had gone to shit. Foxy hated Fred, Fred was broken, and Freddy had little idea what to do about anything. Anyone remotely connected to the mob calls Foxy asking for him at the hotel he's staying at, then he turns rat on Fred.

"Erhm, Don Fazbear, do you have a minute to spare? Your brother Freddy would like a word with you when you are ready sir." A somewhat deep voice called, standing just outside the door, but not so close that one would be able to hear the faint sound of Fred's crying. The voice was that of Freddie's personal servant.

"Yeah. Tell him I'll be…." Fred said through the closed door, before stopping suddenly, being thrown into a massive coughing fit, stopping about 30 to 40 seconds later. "Tell him I'll be right there."

"Certainly, master. He wishes to meet in the cigar lounge." The servant said, sharply, as if trying to hurry the almost depressed Fazbear boss. Fred's servant was tall and slim, with turd brown hair and eyes greener than grass itself. He wore a charcoal suit, with a dark blue-navy bow tie. Opening the door slightly, Thomas, Fred's servant saw Fred in the worst conditions he'd ever been seen in. Loosened tie, vest off, shirt unbuttoned… The list could go on. He initially thought of not saying anything, but decided to instead, considering Fred wouldn't be strong enough to fight back and fire him.

"You really should, um, tidy yourself up for your meeting, master." Thomas, or Tommy was worried about this, as Fred, even when depressed, is still the most powerful man in America, and easily could have had him fired, tortured, kidnapped, or even killed.

"Nah. There's no point with the fucking formal wear anymore. There's no point with anything anymore." Ignoring his master's sudden change in attitude, Thomas moved out of the way and let Fred past as he was, not bothering to bring up the fact that you could easily see his underwear just by standing behind him. Fred stumbled into the cigar lounge lazily as shit, almost tripping up over his untied laces, staying more or less silent, only saying a maximum of 10 words per sentence, and restricting himself to only 4 sentences per minute.

"You alright?" Freddy inquired, clearly uptight about Freddie's lack of determination to do a thing, as well as Foxy fucking off.

"Hmm. Let's see… The youngest of my two brothers had fucked off, and consequently my life has gone to shit, so er, yeah. Ahm over the fuckin moon!" Sarcasm was usually Foxy's thing, but in his absence, Freddie decided to try it out.

"Argh, for fuck sakes! Are you being fucking SERIOUS!?" Freddy knew Freddie wasn't going to be of much use, running the business or anything else, and was getting seriously pissed off at the thought. "Look, I know what you're going through, and it's horrible, but you need to help me. Come on. Let's go to the boardroom." The boardroom had few purposes. One was planning heists and kidnappings, and the other, rescue missions. Fred knew this, he was smart. Depressed, so not very bright, but smart none-the-less. And because Freddie was such a smartass, he pretty much knew what his brother was getting at.

"No. It's too-"

"Risky? You fucking pussy asshole. The hell happened to you?"

"WHAT'D YOU JUSS FUCKIN' SAY TAH ME!?" Fred boomed, furious at yet also proud of his brother at the same time.

"Well, you used to be the balls-iest of our family. You would do anything for us. Now, you have zero balls, thanks to your latest e-bay transaction, and you do fuck all. Fuck off!" This was true, however this was simply out of caution, not fear, contrary to popular belief. "Look, bro. I want Foxy back, you need him back. Neither of us are the same without him. Admit it." Freddy was often successful in convincing his boss, even more so when he's upset (Fred, not Freddy).

"You're right… We need him back. But is a prison sentence really worth a few seconds more with our brother? I do- Ya know what…? Kill any cop who approaches us. To the planning station!" On the way to the planning room, there was a previously unnoticed detail in Freddie's change of attitude.

"Waywaywaywaywaywaywait… Back there… Even Bonnie?"

A/N - This chapter is WAY shorter than planned, and WAY later than it should have been, but shit's been REAL hectic lately, so I was unable to find time to produce this. Plus, my house was broken into :(. Until next time, FF