Chapter three: Crisis

Douglas passed through the restaurant, listening for any signs of life besides his own footsteps. There was a time when he felt far more apprehensive at moments like these—roaming around in empty rooms—but he'd gotten used to Freddy's. There was life here. Friendly life. He just couldn't see it yet.

He reached the office, booted up the tablet on the desk and checked the cameras. He initially only checked the party rooms, not wanting to rob the animatronics of their privacy too much. It had become a bit of an unspoken agreement after Foxy had her discovery.

Foxy…

He stopped when he noticed a white-and-pink figure in one of the dimly lit rooms. This one actually resembled the very fox he was just thinking about.

Mangle jumped and turned when the camera activated. She gave a wave, then left the room. Douglas followed with the cameras to see she was heading his way.

He put the tablet down. Moments after, the she-fox emerged from the dark hallway.

"Hey," Douglas greeted.

"Hey, Douglas," Mangle said back. She glanced away briefly—an old habit she still had, even towards him. "How was your day?"

"It was fine." He paused. "Yours?"

"Also fine."

An awkward silence settled. "Where're the others?" Douglas finally asked. "I kind of have an announcement for everyone. Unless Mr. Griffiths already told you…"

That caught her attention. "About what?"

"About…Mortar, the private investigator."

She fell silent. Judging by the look on her face, Griffiths had indeed made the announcement in question.

"How much did he say?" asked Douglas.

Mangle remained quiet for a moment. Douglas frowned. This was different from her usual silence; she seemed genuinely worried. More worried than he'd seen her in a long time. He couldn't blame her for that, but it made him wonder… What exactly did she think was going to happen?

"I don't…" she whispered. "I don't think we can hide from him, Douglas."

Douglas paused. Was that…fear in her voice? "We can," he quickly said. "You've hidden in plain sight under Mr. Griffiths' nose for years. This should be no problem."

As he spoke, he began to wonder if he was trying to convince her or himself.

Another silence. Now Douglas wondered what would happen if Mortar did end up uncovering the truth. Or if he jumped to some different conclusion. Would he have the animatronics destroyed? If there was one piece of hope Douglas could see, it was that Mortar might not take drastic action until he found out the whole truth.

He wasn't entirely sure why he thought that—it wasn't like he'd ever met the man, but the detective's name did ring a bell when he first heard it.

"How're the others holding up?" Douglas finally asked. "I didn't see them anywhere on the cameras."

"Um… Bonnie's in Parts and Service with Gold and Spring, still trying to fix them up. Chica and Brunette walked off somewhere…"

"Probably to prepare some other prank."

"…Freddy and Mari said they were going to think about what was going on with Mortar, actually."

That caught Douglas' attention. "Really? In what way?"

"Freddy mentioned making preparations and 'contingency plans', just in case."

On one hand, that really sounded like Freddy—it was her way to pass the time. On the other hand, contingency plans? What did the animatronics think Mortar was going to do? Douglas was admittedly worried too, but Mortar was a private detective, not an assassin.

"Huh," Douglas said.

Then he noticed she was chuckling at him. His unintentional deadpan must've looked funny.

"Anyway," he said, mildly embarrassed. "What's Mr. Griffiths going to do about it? Does he have a plan? He didn't tell me much about that."

"Us neither…"

That wasn't comforting. Griffiths had mentioned he'd met Mortar before, when the detective visited the restaurant a decade ago. He wasn't trying very hard to find the truth then; the only reason he'd come was to satisfy his own curiosity.

"I guess we'll just have to see," Douglas finally said.

"See what?"

They turned to see someone else enter the office. Despite her brown and black attire, red theme and somewhat gruff look, it was easy to see that she and Mangle were basically twins. The yellow eyes and fox ears might've had something to do with that.

"Hey, Foxy…" Douglas awkwardly said.

"Heya," she said. "What're you two talkin' 'bout?"

"Uh, nothing, really."

She hmph'd, smirking. She glanced at Mangle, who stood there awkwardly. "You two, talkin' 'bout nothin'? Ya usually don't talk at all. Musta been nothin' real private you were discussin'."

Douglas flushed and Mangle sputtered.

Foxy chuckled. "Heh, I never get tired of seein' those faces."

Douglas said nothing. Mangle fell silent too.

Foxy's smirk fell. "Anyway, ya weren't talkin' 'bout somethin' too concernin', right?"

"No."

She raised a stern eyebrow.

"… This private investigator," Douglas admitted.

"Him? Ah, I wouldn't worry too much 'bout him. Even if he saw us walkin' 'round, he won't think much of it. Kyle had that cover-up story 'bout our servos lockin' up if we stayed still for too long, or somethin' like that."

"You think he'll believe that?" Mangle asked.

"Ya think he'll assume we're sentient, instead?"

That was a good point. The only reason Griffiths believed the sentience story when Douglas told him was because he knew Douglas wasn't a liar. And because Bill and the protos were there to corroborate.

Foxy turned tail. "Anyways, you two flirt while ya still can. Heard Chica and Brun're preparin' some prank, and ya can guess who their target is."

Douglas sighed. Of course. Some things never changed.