Dead Set. || PURPLEPHONE

Andrew Adams.

(( "You don't understand- it's not possible... How could Foxy move... by himself?"

William's Death.jpg. ))

Scott sat in the cheap plastic chair, his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. The tears had no intention of stopping anytime soon, and Scott felt like a dam wall that had just been broken. Everything felt so real now, after being cut off from his true emotions for so long. It was a kind of grief that he couldn't describe; to know that he would never be able to talk to William again. Never again to seek comfort in his advice, or joy in his humour. 

Vincent was watching him, looking entirely out of his depth. Actually, if you had a screen with which you could hear thoughts, from Vincent you'd hear 'It's moments like these that I really understand that humans are 90% water... is he made from tears, or what? I think he's cried more today than I have in my life. Oh, there we go. He's cheering u--oop, no, no... never mind. Ugh.'

"Hey, Scott?" Vincent said at last, choosing his words carefully, picking the most concerned-sounding tone he could manage. "Do you want to take a break for a minute? You're not doing too well. Why don't we step aside, so you can come to terms with how you're feeling? Then we can come back."

Scott sniffled, wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve. "N-No, it's alright..." He finally straightened up, turning  to Vincent with a dry smile, "I think I've about cried myself dry, don't you?"

"Definitely," Vincent agreed, a little too readily. "So, you're feeling fine now? All better?"

"Well..." Scott blinked, "Obviously I'm not feeling better, but crying isn't going to help it, right?"

Vincent gave a funny half-smile, "Well, I guess not, apparently. It's alright, anyway. They're just doing the closing now, and then we'll finally be able to put this all behind us. Move on to the important stuff."

Scott winced at Vincent's slightly insensitive choice of words, but said nothing. After all, numbness was his coping mechanism. He supposed Vincent would be a little emotionally numb for a while after a tragedy like this. It didn't really help him, especially because he needed a lot of support at the moment, but it was his job to realise and accept their differences. "...Yeah. Like throwing Foxy in storage and trying to turn Fazbear's into a 5-star establishment in a month. Oh- they're doing the prayer, shh!"

He caught Vincent giving him a weird look out of the corner of his eye, but just glared, and then shut his eyes and bowed his head. Vincent wasn't religious, didn't believe in all that 'superstitious' stuff. He always asked Scott why he would believe in a God who was going to send him to Hell for being gay, anyway?

Scott tried not to think about that. 

"Amen." Scott opened his eyes again and let out a deep breath. "Okay. That's it. That's... goodbye."

Vincent stood up, stretching. His shoulder and elbow joints popped in their sockets. "Geez, sitting down for so long isn't such a good idea. I feel like an old man. You ready to go, sweetheart?"