The Last Time We Met [Markiplier x Natewantstobattle]

Part 6: The Rescue [Part 1]

Art belongs to rydi1689 on DeviantART. I love her art style with all my heart. <3

-Apple

Nate's POV

"Woah woah woah, explain."

Mark got up and was tugging on his shoes, though giving me a confused look. I held up my phone, feeling my chest ache. "My boss called me on my way to work, telling me that I didn't need to go. He said the pizzeria is finally being closed down, and they are sending the little guys to Mexico to be in a freakin' taco shop." My hands were shaking, and I realized how scared I was for them. "I can't let that happen, we have to go now!"

Mark said nothing more, but grabbed the keys. "It'd be better if I drove," he said, leading me towards the car. I sat in the passenger seat, arms wrapped around myself. Mark held my hand as we pulled onto the overpass. "It's going to be okay, they're going to be fi-­ Is that a fucking crowbar?!" I looked over at him. His eyes had left the road and were focused on the backseat. "Look forward!" I scolded, before continuing, "Yeah, it is."

"Why do you have a crowbar?!"

"They're going to be in crates for shipping. That'll help."

We were silent after that. Mark returned his gaze to the road, and took his hand away. I recalled our earlier conversation, and how he had seemed so torn between 'yes' and 'no'. Now wasn't the time to bring it up, so I focused on the task ahead. I wanted to open the crates and get the little guys out. Where we'd keep them was a mystery, but I couldn't let anything happen to them. I had grown too attached to them, even with our  seven year separation.

My car pulled up into the parking lot, and I saw Mark freeze up, obviously overcome with the memories of this place. "Come on! Don't get cold feet now!" I jumped out of the car before he had stopped the engine. I grabbed the crowbar and began to walk towards the building. I heard the car lock behind me and Mark's footsteps racing towards me. Using the set of keys I hadn't been relieved of yet, I opened the front doors and stepped inside. It was nearly pitch black inside, save for the lights coming from the street.

Mark's breath caught, and he grabbed my arm. I remembered how reluctant he was to come back here last year, how only the thought of proving he didn't lie to the police made him return. I grabbed his hand from my arm, and squeezed it. "I'm here," I said, really wishing we had brought a flashlight.

The place was truly cleared out in the time span I'd been gone. Twenty four hours, and this place looks completely different. There was no the lingering scent of pizza, or any of the pictures children had drawn and put up on the walls. All the stage's decor was gone, and it smelled as if someone had cleaned the place out with bleach.

I lead Mark down the hallway, and pushed on the door's outer button to open the office. It wouldn't budge, so I used an emergency key to make the door automatically open. The office was as bare and sterile as the rest of the place, but was also empty. "Where are they?" I all but shouted, anger overshadowing my fear for the little guys. "Outside?" Mark suggested, and I nearly ran to the back door, located in the back of the (now empty and smelling like bleach) kitchen.

Warmth left my body as we searched the perimeter of the building for the crates I knew the little guys were in. I felt cold and tense, and ready to run if we were caught. I'd make Mark go ahead of me. He couldn't get caught again, not if I was still standing. He tightened his grip on my hand, and his free one pointed forward.

"There!" he shouted, pointing towards three crates with both Spanish and English writing on it. I rushed forward, hastily prying open the closest one to me with the crowbar. The nails popped out of the wood, and the door fell to the pavement. Streetlights illuminated the figure inside, showing his purple fur and guitar. "Bonnie!" Mark and I both shouted, and I grew dim as I realized what happened. "They shut him off. Can you get my phone?"

Mark reached into my jacket pocket as I painstakingly turned Bonnie around, and opened a panel on his back. I used my phone for light to look over it. There were a dashboard of buttons and switches laid out in his exoskeleton, and after glancing over them, I flipped a switch and pressed a button. There was a clicking of gears, and his arms stretched out in front of him. "Bonnie, can you hear me?"

He turned and spoke, but it was in Spanish. I bit my tongue to keep from swearing as I turned him back around. "They already changed his language settings... There. Bonnie, talk." He turned, grinning like a child. "What about?" he squeaked, and I sighed in relief, almost hugging him. Instead, I stood and opened the other two crates. Chica and Freddy, who I turned on and changed back to English, were ecstatic to see me.

"Okay guys," I said once they released me from a hug, only feeling 75% better. "Where's Foxy? Mark and I are getting you out of here." Bonnie was the only one who seemed to acknowledge the other human being there, and I was shocked to see that he was being held up by Mark. "Oh, it's awful Nate!" Chica cried, swiping at her eyes with one hand. "They're gonna scrap Foxy!"

"What?" Mark exclaimed, putting Bonnie down and kneeling. "What do you mean, 'scrap'?"

"Well, they can't send a broken animatronic," Freddy explained, pulling his top hat off and holding it to his chest. "So they're going to use his exoskeleton for scrap metal."

"And the worst part is," Bonnie added, "they didn't turn him off! They thought he already was, and now he's gonna-­"

"No." I think we were all shocked to hear Mark cut him off. "Foxy isn't getting scrapped. If he is still on, he'll hear me talking to him. Where is he, Freddy?"

"Last I saw, they put him in the back dumpster." Mark stood straight, grabbing the crowbar from its spot by my feet. "Then I'm going to get him. Nate," he looked at me, and even in the poor lighting, I could see the care in his expression. "If I'm not back before six, you need to take them away from here. Please."

"You do know that you're facing your biggest fear by doing this," I pointed out, folding my arms across my chest. "Saving one of them from being scrap metal." My chest ached from the thought of sweet little Foxy being torn apart, and Mark had suddenly became a knight in shining armor. He looked down before explaining.

"I had another nightmare. It was set here. And when I saw them, I realized how much my fears were changing their appearances. So, I remembered what they really looked like, and put them in a friendly environment, and they became... not scary. But, aside from that, I realized I also had a tether, something that kept me from falling too deep into those dreams. You."

Mark grabbed my phone, and smiled. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I had a pirate to save." I watched him as he walked towards the corner of the building, before stopping. "Oh, by the way!" he shouted back, then turned.

His smile made my heart ache in a new way, an ache that spread like a wildfire when he called out, "I love you, Nate!"