Creation (Yandere Toy Bonnie x Reader)

Fourteen: Lost

'NO.

GODDAMMIT NO.

FRITZ WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU FUCKING DO?!'

You weren't sure how you managed to get to the restaurant safely, as you could hardly concentrate on driving, but your feet nearly flew as you ran inside. The owner stood in front of the stage, looking up with more than a little bit of surprise. "Well, you got here quick, did you--"

"What happened?" you demanded. In the corners of your vision you could see the stage wasn't empty: both Toy Freddy and Toy Chica were there, motionless and looking perfectly fine. There was no sign of the blue rabbit.

"It's in the Services room," was your answer, spoken with a touch of irritance. Like he had the right to be any more upset than you! He didn't understand what had been going on!

The owner stepped aside slightly, and just in time before you knocked him over, running towards the heavy metal door.

The older models were slumped against the walls, not surprisingly, patched up and looking as though they were ready to be on stage to join the Toys.

Scared, you scanned the room, but you didn't need to look for long.

Toy Bonnie was in pieces, the plastic suit hollow as the machinery and computer inside removed altogether. The desktop computer on the table in the corner had been left on, still connected to the bunny's programming. Or what remained of it.

At first, the anger brought the blood directly to your brain, clouding judgement and reason. 'When I find Fritz I'm tearing him apart like he did to Bonbon...'

But that wasn't everything that made the rage surge through you. The guitarist was scattered like Mangle had been, but at least then the endoskeleton had remained mostly intact, if put back together the wrong way.

No, Toy Bonnie looked as though someone tore him apart with the intention of pain. The insides were gone, yes, but they'd been hastily removed, no sign of care or gentleness. Not that you'd have expected Fritz to care.

Kneeling down you picked up the mascot head, nearly dropping it out of your shaking hands.

'Damn him. DAMN HIM!!'

Setting the head on the table you went to the computer, trying to backtrack and find out what exactly had been done. Maybe Fritz had decided to remove what you'd personalized for the rabbit? More than likely.

But there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. The bunny's programming had been erased, your weeks of work gone completely. No trace.

In other words, you would have to start completely over.

•••

If the owner had gotten startled from the scream echoing from the Parts and Services room, he hid it well. A small part of him figured he should in the least go inside and try to help, but he was very computer illiterate. Muttering under his breath, he wandered back into his private office, intending on calling Fritz and firing him.

If he could get a hold of him, of course.

There were no other employees in the restaurant yet, so Toy Freddy felt safe enough to at least turn his head. Even through the metal door he knew you were getting hysterical, if you weren't already.

He'd turned his back for just a few minutes. Everything had come apart.

Looking the other way, he saw Toy Chica give him a saddened expression. The Toy leader was torn; what had happened was a horrible ordeal, but what Fritz had done might have fixed the problem, as well.

He groaned internally. Was he really thinking that? All the Toys cared deeply for you, and the one who felt the most strongly had just been obliterated.

There were only a handful of hours before the pizzeria opened. What would they do without one of the key band members? As intelligent as you were, time was not on your side. It would take far longer than three or four hours to rebuild an animatronic. Especially one that had been destroyed; who knew what machinery remained intact?

•••

You knew you had no time, as well. Your fingers typed as rapidly as you could manage, but more often than not you had to backtrack and fix error after error.

No, time was most definitely the thing you did not have.

Too engrossed in trying to salvage some part of your rabbit, you didn't hear the stirring from behind you. You didn't even feel the hands laying on your shoulders.

"Can we help?"

The voice was soft and gentle like the hold on you. Finally breaking your flurry of typing, you whipped around to find... well, who you could only assume was Bonnie. The purple hair was a dead giveaway.

But you'd never actually seen him as a human before, so you found yourself slightly disoriented staring into the pink eyes. Shaking your head rapidly, you saw the other older mascots all standing around, worried expressions on their human faces.

Bonnie smiled a little bit, hoping to take the edge off of your fury. "A-ah... Y-yeah, just... just start gathering the outer pieces. Um... someone get the computer parts from inside and put them on the table for me."

They followed directions promptly, allowing you to turn back to the keyboard. Their concern didn't seem to lessen, and they were eager to at least help somehow. It would still be a good long while before the Toy would be put back together, but having a few extra pairs of hands- and a hook, you supposed- was extremely helpful.

An hour or so later, your mind began to spin. The situation was overwhelming you, going from anger to panic and back again endlessly. Fearing you would start to hyperventilate, you took a step away from the computer, face in your hands and panting.

"H-hey, hey, calm down, it's okay. You'll get it done. It's okay," Bonnie murmured to you, enveloping you into a hug that you broke down into.

They felt about as helpful as the owner did; they had no idea how to create a mascot. As quickly as you'd broken down you shoved the older guitarist away, turning back to the computer and furiously trying to remake the work you'd lost.

Focused in what you were doing, you again didn't see anyone approaching, but somehow the rest of the Toys had wandered into the room, as well. Toy Freddy had a small smile on his face as he leaned towards you. "Would it help if you used one of us?"

This made you stop. Use one of them? Maybe as a basis for what needed to be done, but what made them all unique, and ultimately themselves, was what you were so afraid of.

You couldn't explain this, though. Recreating one of them was time consuming, but never moreso than worrying that you'd lost the bunny completely. There was no way he'd remember you now, not when he'd been so hastily torn apart.

'Wait, I'm not... I don't have feelings for this rabbit, do I?'