Alone With Them

Chapter 36

"Cathryn?"

She jumped hard at the voice and once again had to refrain from calling out. She wasn't alone yet. Apparently, Foxy had decided not to go with Bonnie. Cathryn's face burned, but at least her whimpering died off.

"Lass, we need to be quieter. The others 'ave already talked enough it might cause us problems." There was more silence, heavy with embarrassment, before he added near inaudibly, "Come 'ere."

Cathryn considered it, but her muscles didn't. She dragged herself an inch or two across the floor before re-curling into a ball to hide her face. Her shoulders shook and chunks of black hair escaped from her loose ponytail.

She was an idiot for returning. It was stupid and shameful. She'd done this to herself, to some degree or another. She'd returned after seeing what lived in this place! She'd agreed to even apply! It was her name signed on those documents in Whittle's office, not anyone else's. She'd killed herself on purpose.

Quiet creaking echoed around her, followed by a whoosh of air as a presence appeared at her side. Cathryn leaned away but not by much. Then something cold and heavy touched her back, and she shuddered.

"This here really ain't the best time fer . . ."

It didn't take long to realize it was the curve of Foxy's hook skimming her back as he dragged it up and down. Her fears jumped to assuming it was a threat, but Cathryn soon wondered . . . 

Was he attempting to comfort her?

His proximity wasn't doing much to provide solace, but Cathryn found herself feeling less forgotten in the dark.

"I don't cry," she insisted, her voice cracked.

She was surprised by the lack of mockery in his response. "No, 'o course not."

"I-It's just . . ." She cleared her throat and clutched her arms to her chest in an effort to keep from going bald. "Why me? I don't understand. I-I don't understand. This isn't fair. I shouldn't have come back. I don't like it here."

"Ye be doin' us all a jolly favor."

"I don't care!" she whispered firmly, unable to stop the truth as it poured out. Hot tears clawed at her cheeks. "I hate this place! I hate you all! You're scary and weird and never make sense. I don't want to help Freddy. I don't want to help anyone." She sniffed, wiping her eyes. "Except my mom, and maybe Chancellor. And my Uncle Wayne and Markus. But besides them. I don't want to get hurt anymore!" The only sound was her anger and Cathryn had to pause to remember exactly who, or what, she was talking to. Her voice grew timid, "You're going to k-kill me now, aren't you?"

The fox let out a small, robotic sigh. "No, not that I be aware 'o."

"Why?" Cathryn finally turned to stare at him, a dark red shadow eclipsing her. One of his teeth caught the dim light and sparkled.

A single gold eye gazed back. "Lass, if it be up to me, I ain't fixin' to 'urt ye. I be mighty grateful fer what ye've done so far, but I make no plans to be killin' anyone. I'd only prefer if ye'd keep yerself alive an' not draw anyone towards us just yet."

"But then why," Cathryn begged. "Why attack me at all? Why would there be such huge metal doors in the office if you weren't trying to hurt me?"

His hook stopped for a moment.

She continued, "You say you don't hurt anyone, but Sam's been working here for months and says people disappear. The journal said it. I've felt it." Cathryn grabbed her arm, similar to how Freddy had seized her that second night and dragged her through the restaurant, surely bent on killing her. "I don't understand!"

Foxy's eyepatch flipped up. "If it makes ye feel better, I be at a loss, too. I don't know." The hook slid into view as he stroked his chin, before he returned to rubbing her back. "But if I figure it out, I'll tell ye. Immediately."

It answered nothing, but a strange sense of ease washed over her nonetheless. Cathryn relaxed just a bit at the promise. "Okay."

Foxy really did have a weird smile, but at least it gave her some sort of distraction as the world lost sound. The curtains absorbed any noise – hopefully – in or outside of the room, which provided a false comfort. It was like the mission that lay ahead wasn't anything more than a nightmare crawling around in the back of her brain. Without the constant rush of fear to distract her, it was even easier to understand Foxy's words and analyze them in her mind.

She had to get answers. Eventually.

Cathryn realized her face was drenched and a few remaining tears were still leaking out between sniffles. Her fingers ran against the goosebumps on her arms.

"I do wish Chica would 'urry aft."

Okay, he was somewhat easier to understand, but with context clues Cathryn could figure it out.

"Why?" she asked, muffling the thickness of her throat that had yet to go away.

"She be a lot better with children than I be."

The idea left Cathryn gaping. "What do you mean?" When Foxy seemed just as shocked by her reply, she ran through a quick explanation of every time she'd been forced to interact with the fierce chicken. Especially when Chica had screamed her head off before chucking Cathryn through the air at an office chair. The story seemed to leave him oddly amused.

"Even so," he told her after hearing everything, "ye'd prefer Chica. She can be quite the protective one. That be why it be so essential that she 'urry aft. While it'll take all three o' us at some point to 'elp ye, it'd be best if Chica stuck closest."

After everything, she trusted the chicken the least and the idea of being stuck right next to her while fighting Freddy made Cathryn shift uncomfortably. She shook her head, "What about . . . Bonnie?" Obviously she was getting desperate if he was the one whose name came to mind.

Foxy's tone agreed, "Lad's got promise an' spirit, but 'e can get a bit distracted by things."

"Like what?" He'd helped her before, so clearly he wasn't a terrible bodyguard. Not to mention Bonnie was the one who'd kidnapped and snuck her into Pirate's Cove at the beginning of her shift.

"'Imself," the pirate chuckled. "'E 'as a problem with overconfidence."

Cathryn couldn't argue there. "But then what about you?"

"Me?"

The fox seemed the most trustworthy out of them all.

"Look 'ere," Foxy waited for her eyes to follow to where his finger pointed at his chest. "See this 'ere gap? Try pullin' at it."

With the wires and shrapnel surrounding the gaping hole where Foxy's heart might've been if he were alive, Cathryn wasn't excited. She slowly extended one hand, lightly hooked her fingers over the edge, and gave it a short tug.

"'Arder."

She tried again, this time pulling longer and with more force. If his outer coating budged, the impact was too insignificant to see.

Foxy "Hmph"-ed as he examined himself. "Odd."

"What?"

"Nothin', just I wondered if there might be another reason ye've made it so long . . ." the mumbled words disappeared, and Foxy smiled with resolve, "But ye be just a little thing, aren't ya?"

Cathryn wasn't sure if she should be offended or just confused, but the edges of her lips quirked up and she shrugged, "I guess?"

He tapped his hook three soft times on her head. "Aye." After a pause, he did the same to himself. "As I been saying, these gaps aren't 'elpful when it comes to fightin'. If one o' the others get a 'old o' me, they could tearrr me shell off faster than if I been a peanut. I'd be more 'elpful if I came in fast from the side, but we'll 'ave to leave the final plannin' to Chica."

"Why her?"

Foxy's eyepatch flipped up and down fast enough Cathryn couldn't recognize the motion. Halfway through his words, she realized he'd winked at her.

"Well, she knows Cap'n the best, see?"