{remake! TW: blood, death, the usual}
The funeral was dark and gloomy, as most funerals are. Looking around me I could see my co-workers, my boss, and my mother-in-law. I couldn't hold in my tears, my husband was dead, his death brutal and painful.
I watched as Scott's mother screamed at her son's former boss, her face was red as she sobbed. The man just stood in a stunned silence, and as he tried to apologize I could hear a harsh slap reach my ears as it echoed throughout the cemetery; she had slapped him.
"YOUR ROBOTS TOOK MY SON FROM ME! SORRY DOES NOT FIX WHAT YOU'VE ALLOWED TO HAPPEN." The woman's voice strained as she cried out, and I was glad that we were about to leave.
I felt a pair of arms wrap around my shoulders, and with the immediate scent of lavender I started to sob. Vincent pulled me into his chest, tightly holding me. He was a good friend to both Scott and I, even if he constantly flirted with my husband. Neither of us said anything as Scott's final moments flooded back into my head.
It was 4am, Scott and I were smiling and laughing like normal as we did our job. Then Scott checked the cameras again, quickly freezing. He immediately pushed me under the desk, and told me to be quiet. This was normal, until he failed to climb down with me that is. I saw the exact moment he realized he wasn't going to make it as he mouthed 'I love you.' towards me before getting snatched up by one of the animatronics.
Scott's screams echoed throughout the entire pizzeria as they dragged him backstage. I heard the footsteps, the loud banging, every single strain in Scott's voice. I was in shock, I couldn't stop myself from quietly sobbing until 6am arrived. Hell, once it did, I was already bolting to parts and service. There wasn't a care in my mind about any of the old animatronics as I dropped to my knees. Seeing the Freddy suit soaked in blood, a puddle formed underneath.
"SCOTT?!" I screamed, trying to pull apart the suit, "SCOTTIE I'LL GET YOU OUT, I PROMISE-" I continued, until I noticed his lifeless eyes peeking out in front of me. "S-cott?" My voice cracked, I started uncontrollably sobbing.
I screamed, pulling the head off to see my husband's pale face. Tears ran down my face as I laughed, but I couldn't help but wonder why. I couldn't help my laughs, that were broken up by sobs. Until Mike came in.
"Oh dear god-" The man's eyes were wide, "[Y/N]?" he asked, softly.
"Mi-ke..." My throat was sore as I spoke, and he quickly pulled me up to my feet.
"You're covered in blood, what happened?" He asked, "Where's Sco..." then he saw him. "Oh no..." he spoke, pulling me into a hug. "I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault, Mike..." I whispered with a sob as he lead me out of the room.
"I need to make some calls, then I'll drive you home, okay?" He said, sitting me in the office, to which I gave a nod, as I stared at Scott's phone mask head.
Afterwards Mike drove me home, Vincent coming over soon after after getting called. The two have been making sure I cared for myself, which I'm thankful for. Vincent pulled away from the hug, wiping some tears away from my eyes.
"Thank you." I told him, generally.
"Don't thank me for anything, you're the one being so strong, and I'm sure Scottie would be proud of you." the words that came out of his mouth almost made me sob, I had never expected him to say something so sweet.
"I hope he would..."
-END-
wow, I randomly found this and went "yeah I'll continue this re-write". So that's what I did. Also my sincerest apologies for not posting very often, currently I'm working on a fnaf fancomic! The name for it is "Burning Lilacs and Overgrown Gears", which I actually have the pleasure to announce I named myself. It's Michael's pov told in the way of an 80's movie, which is always fun. The rest of the team and I have been working on it for the past month? I'd like to say, and we have our entire first season written and we're working on the panels! I hope some of you would be interested in the comic when it comes out on Twitter in the next few months! Anyway, thanks for reading <3 Sincerely, Elliot.
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