Prologue: Coping & Interesting News
Three days had passed since Mike was rehired, and for once, there wasn't much for the guard to do. Things were quiet. The guard spent most nights helping with random menial tasks the animatronics performed, as well as having casual conversation. Most of Mike's "chores," if you could call them that, consisted of either assisting Freddy in rearranging the restaurant or helping Chica in the kitchen.
Freddy kept him busy arranging chairs, tables, and after convincing Mike they were empty, the spare costumes Backstage. Chica, on the other hand, rarely made the guard do much of anything. She preferred to do most of the work, which was fine by Mike, considering that all he knew about cooking was where bread went in a sandwich. Most of his responsibilities consisted of handing random ingredients and cookware.
Bonnie never really had any chores, aside from assisting Freddy and Chica similar to Mike, so she and Mike spent most of their time just talking. After learning that the rabbit enjoyed to draw, Mike brought her a stack of paper and crayons to pass the time. He almost regretted it upon returning to his office and finding it plastered with drawings of himself and the other animatronics. Mike decided to tack a few them up on the same notice board they put guest drawings.
The only issue was Foxy, who hadn't so much as left Pirate's Cove since Mike's first night back. The others knew something was up, but whenever they would ask, Foxy would reply, "I'm fine," and continue to sulk.
Mike decided that tonight he would try and get to the bottom of it. As soon as midnight rolled around, the guard strode purposefully for the curtains of Pirate's Cove. Pushing them aside, he could barely make out Foxy sitting on his chest in the darkness. The fox looked up, and upon seeing Mike looked away. Mike pulled the curtains open further, and stepped inside.
"Hey Foxy," Mike greeted. Foxy raised his hand dismissively.
"What's up?" Mike asked, "You okay?"
"I'm fine," Foxy replied.
"You sure? You haven't left the Cove since my first day back," Mike reminded.
"I just... be likin' me solitude," Foxy lied.
"Oh really? You weren't shy last week," Mike said.
"I told ye all, I'm fine," Foxy said firmly. Mike frowned. He had to get the fox to talk to him, to figure out what was wrong, and being gentle about it wasn't working. Mike decided to try a little bit of "tough love."
On a large metal fox, with a hook, big teeth, and a temper. Brilliant, Schmidt, this plan's gonna get you killed, Mike thought. He decided it would be worth it if he could figure out what was wrong, and took a breath, before pushing Foxy off of the chest he used as a seat. The pirate crashed to the floor, and glared back at Mike.
"Wha' was that fer?" Foxy demanded.
"What's wrong with you?" Mike asked.
"Wha'?" Foxy asked, confused.
"I said, what's wrong with you!? Huh? What's your problem!?" Mike shouted.
"Wha's gotten inta ye, lad?" Foxy asked, suddenly concerned Mike had lost it.
"Me? What about you? All you've done is mope around your cove!" Mike said.
"So?" Foxy asked.
"'So?' So what's wrong!? Is this about those kids?" Mike asked.
"I told ye! I'm fine! Get outta here before I keelhaul ya," Foxy threatened.
"Why won't you talk about it? Don't you care about those kids? Is that why you're ignoring it?" Mike asked. Foxy suddenly went silent, giving Mike a glare that could kill. The fox suddenly started growling, loudly, and stood up. Mike backed off.
