Suspicions, Chica
“Thank you for your cooperation, class. Remember, these review packets need to be done by class Wednesday. You can use the next five minutes to talk amongst yourselves but I ask you don’t leave your desks, please.”
Chica didn’t hesitate to turn around to face Foxy and their friends, sliding the review packet into her bookbag right alongside the questionnaire.
The questionnaire had been a shock to her system; how could two people who are so different have so much in common? Cooking, music- even applying to schools abroad. They were even born just a few days apart and it irked on Chica’s nerves.
She wanted nothing to do with the other chicken.
Looking towards her friends, she wasn’t at all surprised to see the Fazbear brothers had started talking immediately, but she was surprised that the rabbit hadn’t joined them or at least turned to her and Foxy. In fact, he was looking in the complete opposite direction- towards his lab partner.
Chica frowned and glanced at Foxy, who looked just as confused as she did. “He’s watching Rodriguez,” she informed him and he looked towards Bonnie, noticing she was, in fact, correct. She tapped her foot against the floor and glanced at the ceiling, frowning to herself. What she had overheard before flashed through her mind. “Probably because of earlier…”
“Earlier?” Foxy questioned, looking at her with a raised brow. Clearly he had been too absorbed in his argument with Blanc to notice what had happened between the rabbits.
This isn’t the place to talk about it, she decided. With a dismissive wave, she said, “I’ll tell you later.” Although it probably wasn’t true, she added, “Doesn’t really matter, anyway.”
Foxy accepted her words with a careless shrug, picking up his own review packet and flipping through it lazily. “Ya know, I wonder if this’ll put our plans this evenin’ on hold.”
“Oh please,” she snorted, pulling the packet back out to look through it herself. She noted quite happily that everything seemed pretty easy- just general review questions. “We can finish these in an hour or two, tops. Plenty of time for pizza and videogames.”
“Good,” Foxy grinned, dropping his packet carelessly into his bag. “What movies do ya think will be on the marathon this weekend?”
“Hopefully something fun,” she answered with a sigh, remembering their last disaster marathon. It had been hilarious, the movies were so bad. “I vote Mummies,” she added as a last-minute thought.
“Lemme guess, first two, not the third?” Foxy asked with a grin.
“Duh,” she snorted, grinning slightly herself. “Just like we know damn well we won’t be watching the fourth Indiana Jones.”
“There’s a fourth one?” Foxy asked innocently, tilting his head at her and twitching his ears with wide, mischievous eyes. Chica laughed.
“Oh, Foxy, you silly little fox,” she chuckled, shaking her head at him. He grinned and turned to look at their other friends. She glanced over when Foxy’s grin morphed into an annoyed scowl and she raised a brow when she saw all three of them watching Rodriguez, Salvage, and Fischbach. Neither three of the “weird” classmates seemed to care- that or they were completely oblivious- about their audience.
She watched Foxy lean over to Bonnie, who was the most obvious observant staring directly at his lab partner. “Bonnie,” Foxy tried, though he sat up straight with the most scandalized expression on his face when Bonnie didn’t even look at him; instead the rabbit held a hand up, one finger lifted, in the one moment gesture. Chica almost laughed at Foxy’s gobsmacked expression.
Wow, Bonnie, now Foxy won’t talk to you today. Congrats.
However, Chica couldn’t help but frown. It wasn’t exactly often that Bonnie would just brush one of them off. The only time she could remember him doing so was when his father got remarried when he was fifteen and he had to meet his new step-brother.
Foxy looked back at her questioningly. All she could do was shrug.
Apparently the fox decided he’d rather not think too much about it as when he spoke again, he said, “Well, ya already know my vote is on the Caribbean movies.”
What a surprise! … Not. “Again?” she groaned, despite having expected the answer. “We watched those at least three times over summer, Foxy.”
“And we’ll damn well watch them again,” Foxy declared, snickering as the chicken groaned again. “Come on, even you have to admit those movies are good. A bit inaccurate, but good!”
More than a bit. “The first one’s good,” she countered, “though the love story was really boring to me.”
Actually very boring, but at least it was vital to the plot. That was its only saving grace in her opinion.
“Of course it was,” he snorted, rolling his eyes as he stretched. “Ya’ve never much been into that kind of thing.”
Romance is not my thing.
Before she could reply, the bell rang. She watched, amused, as both Foxy and Goldie leapt from their seats and nearly collided with one another before she calmly stood up, slipping out of her seat as Bonnie and Freddy did the same. She followed Goldie and Foxy out of the room, completely ignoring the three friends still at their desks by the door.
They headed towards the cafeteria when Freddy and Bonnie joined them. “Thank god it’s only one class,” Goldie sighed. Chica raised a brow.
Thanks for jinxing it, Goldie.
Chica brushed it off, though, as she sat down at the table across from Goldie, beside Bonnie, and pulled out her lunch. However, she couldn’t let it go for very long as Goldie declared, “That was really weird.” She tried not to sigh in aggravation; do you really want to have this conversation at a table full of jocks and cheerleaders?
They didn’t even know why they always sat there. Force of habit? Considering they didn’t even really like the other people at the table… Just casually interacted with them… Truth be told, Chica could happily cut them off and feel no guilt at all. However, Foxy, Goldie, and Bonnie all got along relatively well with them and Chica was on the soccer and softball teams with a few of the girls at the table, so she couldn’t do that. Not right then, anyway.
But hey… highschool was almost over.
“Weird?” Chica repeated, raising a brow at the golden bear across from her.
“You didn’t even talk to your partner,” Foxy accused with a huff, frowning at her. Because I’m smart! “It was really weird. Somethin’s off about Blanc. He, she, it, whatever is really weird.”
Chica felt a little irked at the latter part of his declaration- calling a person an it was going a little too far, even when it was in reference to Vivien Blanc or any of their friends. However, she chose not to say anything as Freddy mused, “Maybe there’s a reason.” The chicken turned to look at him, raising her brow in slightly.
Can we talk about something else? Like this weekend or something? Jesus Christ, guys, fucking Ashley Creol and Tom Walker are listening to us right now.
“What do you mean?” Bonnie questioned Freddy and Chica let out an irritated breath. Freddy, evidently catching onto her, Foxy, and Goldie’s aggravation, simply shrugged.
“It’s nothing,” he excused, though it sounded like a lie. Or a promise. Something like… I’ll tell you later. Meant only towards Bonnie.
Goldie looked at Foxy and Chica with a sigh and Chica almost chuckled at his put-off expression. Clearly he was annoyed with Freddy’s strange words and dismissal as much as he was with the topic itself.
Noticing Bonnie’s ears twitching, Chica frowned and turned to look at the rabbit. His ears, normally hanging down behind his shoulders, were slightly raised as if perked. It was a strange sight. She didn’t realize what he was doing until Kain and her friends passed by, walking close together and seeming to almost move as a hive mind.
It was kind of creepy, if Chica was to be honest, how they seemed to just instinctively know where each other were about to step and how they could retain formation as they stepped around an outsider. The fact that Chica referred to other classmates as “outsiders” to the little group was a whole different story.
“They’re complaining about getting partnered with us,” Bonnie informed them, irritation in his voice as his ears relaxed; evidently he had stopped straining to listen to the conversation, or maybe they were just too far away for him to try. “As if they have any right to complain, we’re the ones stuck with a bunch of weirdoes.”
“Here here,” Foxy agreed as he took an oddly aggressive bite out of his sandwich. Chica only somewhat remembered Kain saying the same less than an hour before.
Believing the subject was finally dropped, Chica turned back to her own lunch and began eating. Bonnie wasn’t completely finished, though.
“But you know, Freddy,” the rabbit started, looking at Freddy and causing Chica to pause. “I agree. I think there’s a reason for it.”
Silence descended over them. They all continued eating and their high-class classmates around them began conversing about whatever, none of them really even sure what the Fazcrew had been talking about. Chica chose not to enlighten them.
None of them spoke.
Bonnie had been acting strange all through their art class. His ears were perked again, clearly listening for any snatches of conversation he could get, but Chica caught the wary glances the five strange students sent their way. She could tell that, whatever Bonnie was listening for, they weren’t supplying it. They knew he was listening. Of course, the way Bonnie had been turned around in his seat and watching them hadn’t given him much inconspicuity.
Something happened, but what?
She scowled at the lines on her page, glaring darkly at the easel it was on. Yes, she mused to herself, something definitely happened. Bonnie was acting strange, saying weirdly cryptic, worrying things, and it was making her anxious. She, once again, drew a quick line across the page, trying to adjust to the feeling of holding the pencil “correctly,” but her mind was not at all on the pencil or the line it made.
“I’m not waiting for someone to fucking die before I’m willing to do something, weirdoes or not.”
The silence that had met those words was heavy and full of shock. The only one of them who didn’t look like they’d been slapped in the face by their mothers was Freddy, but he had at least looked as chilled as she felt.
Whatever Bonnie had seen or heard had affected him, and it wasn’t in a good way. He wasn’t acting like himself. At least, he wasn’t acting like he usually did.
This wasn’t the laidback, go-with-the-flow rabbit everyone was familiar with; this was the Bonnie who did the right thing, no matter how it hurt or what the consequences would be.
This was the Bonnie who helped plan a funeral for the man he had grown up calling “pops,” the Bonnie who stood up and punched a classmate in the face for harassing Foxy, the Bonnie who walked up to a footballer “friend” who was messing with an openly-gay student and declared, with absolutely no hesitation, fear or uncertainty, “I’m gay,” and singlehandedly phased out “gay” as an insult in their school with that one statement.
This was the “I get shit done” Bonnie, not the Bonnie who just watched from the sidelines.
That alone told Chica that something was very wrong. The fact that Bonnie wasn’t explaining anything bothered her deeply. “I’m not waiting for someone to fucking die before I’m willing to do something, weirdoes or not.” Those were his words.
He thinks one of them is gonna die. That was the worst part of it. Bonnie saw or heard something, or several things, that had him thinking that one of them was going to die. Chica knew Bonnie pretty well. She knew he would never let that happen- not as long as he could do something about it. She knew he’d end up doing something stupid in the end, but she doubted it would have the good outcomes his past stupid actions have had… considering the suspicious, wary glances the five students in question were throwing his way. He-
There was a startled shriek from the other side of the studio, pulling Chica out of her thoughts and causing everyone to jump and turn to look, surprised, at a bottle-blonde human as she stared in horror at her pencil. “My lead broke!”
Unimpressed, Chica shared a look with Foxy. Typical Ashley.
“That’s why I said don’t put too much pressure on it,” Mr. Smith, the art teacher, scolded as he pulled a small, but sharp, knife out of his pocket and took the pencil from her. “Here, I’ll take this moment to show you how you’ll sharpen your pencils from here on out.”
Chica glanced briefly towards the five “weird” students. Oddly enough, Salvage and Fischbach each had a hand on Rodriguez’s shoulders as he stared blankly at the knife in Mr. Smith’s hands, ears flat. Blanc had turned their gaze away from it, fidgeting with their hands, and Kain simply stayed close to her friends, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot. None of them approached the circle forming around Mr. Smith to watch him peel away the wood.
The chicken turned her gaze back to the knife, furrowing her brow in confusion. It’s just a knife. What are they so freaked out about?
“I’m not waiting for someone to fucking die…”
It was driving her crazy.
The chicken stared at the packet lying, open, on Bonnie’s desk. She had messed up on a simple equation three times already and the frustrated scratchings glared out mockingly at her.
She couldn’t get Bonnie’s words out of her mind and no one was bringing it up. Freddy was still on the first page of his packet, despite it having been an entire half hour, and Goldie was fidgeting with his pen anxiously. Obviously she wasn’t the only one still thinking about it.
The anxiety and aggravation only grew until, finally, she threw her pen down and turned to face the rabbit sitting on his bed, back against his wall and notebook on his knees. “Bonnie, what the fuck did you mean earlier?” she demanded, startling the rabbit. She watched him look at her, surprise in his eyes.
“What do you mean what the fuck did I mean?” he asked her, incredulity lacing his voice. “I think I was very clear.”
Chica went to tell him that no, you weren’t clear at all, but Freddy cut in with, “Yes. You were clear in the fact you think one of them is likely to die. What we don’t understand is how you came to that conclusion.”
Well. Freddy was right. She did understand the meaning of his words, she just didn’t understand the why.
“And after only one conversation,” Foxy cut in, prompting Chica to turn her troubled gaze to him. “C’mon, Bonnie, you’re just reading too much into their words.” Chica wished it was true, but the scowl that quickly appeared on Bonnie’s face told her that Bonnie wholeheartedly disagreed. “We don’t even know them. We’ve only spoken to them once and you’ve only overheard their conversations, what, a couple times? You’re hearing what you want to hear.”
He has a very good point, Chica thought a moment before Goldie said, “He’s got a point.” They all looked towards the older Fazbear, waiting for him to elaborate. “You have a suspicion about somethin’, so your mind’s twisting things to match it. It’s pretty common, actually,” the golden bear explained simply.
Freddy shifted in his spot, frowning slightly. “I don’t know,” he started as he glanced around at all of them. “Somethin’ does seem… off.”
No one’s denying that, Chica thought to herself, frowning.
“And I’m not just talkin’ about how strange they are,” the bear added with a glare towards Foxy, causing the canine’s mouth to snap shut again. Chica hadn’t even realized he had been about to respond. “I think Bonnie’s right, somethin’s going on. And you’re right, too, Foxy; we don’t know them.” Chica had a feeling Freddy wasn’t really agreeing with Foxy; he was just using his point to support his own. “We see only what they let us see,” Freddy continued slowly, choosing his words carefully. He frowned, as though a thought had struck him, and added, “Well… Supposedly we only see what they want us to see.”
Chica raised a brow. “Supposedly?” she repeated, though she was thinking about the way the five friends stood so close together, quiet and uneasy when Mr. Smith had brandished a simple knife. A moment that just hours before that moment would have gone completely unnoticed. “What do you mean supposedly?”
She already knew the answer before he said, “When you’re not used to people watching you or paying you any attention, you’re bound to screw up.” That certainly described the five school weirdoes. No one ever paid them any attention, not after realizing rumours did nothing to them. “Bonnie? Context, please?”
The rabbit frowned thoughtfully, as if trying to pick his words carefully. Maybe he doesn’t know how to explain. Bonnie was never the best with words, after all. He didn’t know how to approach delicate subjects and she had a feeling that this was rather delicate. Not the kind of thing they usually spoke about.
“Well,” he finally started, words slow and deliberate. “When we were doing that stupid questionnaire thing, Rodriguez… had a freak-out, I guess? He just suddenly… froze up,” Bonnie explained with some issue, but Chica realized what he was talking about. “Like, he wasn’t even breathing. And when I tried to say something, he got really, uh…”
He trailed off. He didn’t know how to describe that moment, but Chica could remember that upset, angry voice very clearly. What did you do, Bonnie? Instead of asking this, though, she uttered, “Oh,” to get the rabbit’s attention. “That’s what that was about, huh? He sounded really pissed, Bonnie.”
She was trying to prompt him into an explanation. “You heard that, huh?” he asked with a sigh and Chica simply nodded. “I don’t know what set him off, really,” Bonnie admitted, his gaze flicking up to the ceiling. “He wasn’t just angry, he was scared. Terrified, even. I don’t even know what I did to scare him but he didn’t seem all there.”
Chica didn’t get a chance to ask more as Foxy scoffed and waved his hand in the air, dismissing Bonnie’s concern without any apparent second thought. “So you did something to scare him. That doesn’t mean anything, Bonnie.”
The air suddenly seemed to get colder as Bonnie leveled Foxy with steely red eyes. There was no uncertainty, no hesitation, in his voice as he stated, “A bloody bandage does, though.”
There is was, where all of this had been leading- Bonnie’s ultimate suspicion. It… wasn’t what she was expecting.
He saw a bloody bandage? When?
When it was clear that none of them were going to speak, Bonnie continued uninterrupted, unhesitant, and very sure of himself. When we went into the art room his shirt rode up when Fishbach pulled him to his feet. You guys were talking about our marathon and I was watching them, ‘cause they had said some really weird things. He had a bandage wrapped around his abdomen and there was blood on it- and I wasn’t just seeing things, ma’s a doctor, I know a bandage when I see one.”
If it had been around the arm Chica may have been able to dismiss it easily enough, but the abdomen… She shifted in her seat, unease filling her. With every word Bonnie said it seemed to get worse and worse, and paired with the image of a fidgeting, close-knit group of nervous teens, attention on an innocent knife, staying in their corner of the room, it spelled out trouble.
“So he probably fell. It doesn’t mean anything,” Foxy tried to dismiss, but a waver in his voice gave away his own unease.
“Fischbach’s practically mute.”
It was so sudden, so unrelated, that it actually startled Chica. She turned to look at Freddy with a confused frown. She hadn’t missed the use of the word practically.
Goldie, however, seemed to have. “What?” he questioned, raising a brow at his brother. “No he’s not, I heard him talking.”
“Practically,” Freddy sighed. “I didn’t say he is. I thought he was being rude at first but he was legitimately struggling to say anything.” He paused and frowned. “He looked really ashamed about it, too. I basically had to watch him the entire time… which is kind of awkward but yeah...”
When Freddy trailed off and it seemed like he wasn’t going to continue, Chica prompted him with, “And that has anything to do with a bloody bandage because…?” She was honestly curious- she wanted to understand why Bonnie and Freddy were so worried, and she wanted to understand why she herself was worried.
“He had a bruise around his wrist, too,” Freddy continued on and Chica frowned, listening carefully to his words. “He rubbed his wrist and ended up pulling the fur back and I noticed it.” He hesitated, as if unsure if he should actually add to it. Part of Chica didn’t want to hear more. “I didn’t really get a good look, considering I was only glancing, but it… looked a lot like a hand.” A hand. Freddy thinks someone grabbed Fischbach’s wrist hard enough to leave a bruise. As if wanting to avoid too much conflict, he added, “From what I saw, anyway.”
Chica glanced towards Foxy, frowning worriedly. If Bonnie and Freddy were suggesting what she thought they were suggesting then she knew Foxy wouldn’t handle it well. However, she knew they had to be logical. “We shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” she decided, turning to look at Bonnie seriously. “We don’t know what’s going on. For all we know they could have been roughhousing or gotten themselves into an accident.” She added, more as an afterthought, “Besides, Kain didn’t look like she had any sort of trouble going on.”
Then again, how could she possibly determine that? She frowned as she remembered the way the other chicken had abruptly sat up and leaned forward, that serious, worried expression in place as she looked over towards her friend. She knew what was happening, Chica suddenly realized, her hand tightening into a fist on the desk, out of the others’ sight. Something is going on.
The realization didn’t sit well with her and she tried to push it aside as Goldie spoke up with, “I didn’t notice anything about Salvage either.” His tone wasn’t quite sharp but it sounded somewhat uneasy, as though he had just realized that he had missed a crucial detail… much like Chica was sure she herself had. “He was just really nervous and wary.”
“Blanc kept zoning out but that doesn’t mean anything,” Foxy informed them. Chica just barely heard the undertone of desperation; he wanted so badly for Bonnie to be wrong and it made her stomach turn. “They’re all weirdoes and they’re bonded by their mutual weirdness, but that doesn’t mean anything, Bonnie.”
The rabbit’s eyes narrowed at the fox and Chica just knew something was about to give. “I’m just saying,” Bonnie started, voice straining with the effort to keep calm, “that I really think someone needs to keep an eye on those five. Something is wrong here and if it has anything to do with what I think it might-”
“We have no right to suspect anything!” Foxy finally exploded, jerking upright and glaring at Bonnie. “There was a bruise, a bandage, and a freak-out, whatever! It doesn’t mean anything, it could be any number of things! It’s none of our business.”
He was wrong and all of them knew it, but he was also right.
Anyone can suspect anything, she thought to herself, glancing down at the review packet. How else do you think you were saved, Foxy? As this crossed her mind, she made her decision.
“I think,” she finally broke the silence, picking her pen up, “that both of you are right.”
Everyone turned to her, some of them instantly understanding where she was going and some of them not understanding at all. Goldie asked, “How can both of them be right? They’re saying the exact opposite of each other.”
That wasn’t true; Bonnie was insisting something was going on and Foxy was insisting that it was none of their business. Foxy was no longer flat-out denying the rabbit’s words, just insisting that they shouldn’t get involved, that they shouldn’t assume things, that they had no right.
They were both right, now she just had to explain it.
“They’re both right in a way,” she started. Without really thinking about it, she pointed her pen towards Bonnie to direct everyone’s gazes to him. “Bonnie’s right, somethin’ fishy’s goin’ on, and if it puts any of them in danger then just standing by and watching it happen is just as bad as dealin’ the blow ourselves.” She hated to say it but it was absolutely true. Standing by and watching someone suffer… well…
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.
Wasn’t that basically what standing by would be?
She shifted the pen over to Foxy and the boys’ eyes followed it to her target. “But Foxy’s also right that we can’t just assume we know what’s going on and get involved. If we do, we risk messing a lot of things up, for ourselves and Fischbach and his friends.” She didn’t mention what could happen; all of them were smart enough to figure that out themselves.
Dropping her pen back down onto the desk, she finished up with, “We don’t know them, we’re outsiders looking in. We don’t know what’s going on, we don’t know so we shouldn’t get involved. The most we should do at this point is watch for signs.”
Signs. That was literally all they could rightfully do. Watch for signs and report anything suspicious.
“Watch for signs?” Foxy demanded, incredulity clear in his voice. “Haven’t we already established that when you get an idea your mind twists things to match it?”
Chica rolled her eyes. It’s really simple to avoid that, she thought, and then answered, “Then don’t call ambiguous actions or conversations proof or signs.” She almost hesitated as she let her voice fall into a gentler tone. She knew she shouldn’t say it- she knew it wasn’t alright to say it, but he needed to understand just what could be at stake. “Foxy, you should know this better than any of us.”
Shocked silence met her statement. Foxy stared at her, frown sharp, but he wasn’t snarling or baring his teeth so that was a good sign. The silence stretched on only for a few seconds before the fox finally spat, “Fine.”
It was begrudging and unhappy, but it was an agreement all the same. It hung in the air around them, sinking into each of their minds- exactly what it was an agreement to.
“So wait,” Goldie started slowly, “Did we just agree to keep an eye on our least favourite people in the entire school?”
“Pretty much,” Freddy confirmed, glancing over towards his brother. “Just because you don’t like them doesn’t mean they deserve whatever’s happening.”
“If anything at all,” Chica quickly warned, watching as Freddy glanced at her and nodded in agreement.
“If anything at all, yes.”
Familiar, unwelcome silence fell again, but it was quickly stripped away as Goldie spoke up again. “Keep an eye on our science partners, huh? What exactly are we watching for, anyway? Signs, but signs of what?”
They already knew the answer and none of them wanted to actually say it. None of them wanted to say those words that would truly seal the deal, but it needed to be said.
Unsurprisingly, it was Bonnie- the one who started this strange agreement- who answered, “Anything suspicious, I guess.” He hesitated before finally voicing the words none of them wanted to say but needed to hear. The bottom line of their suspicions. “Things like… I dunno… depression, abuse, gang activity- you know, that kind of stuff.”
The sort of things none of them really had experience with. The sort of things Chica wasn’t even sure she knew how to detect. I’ll do some research later.
It was tense as they all turned back to their packets. It was never meant to be that way between them. Sure, things had been a bit awkward when everyone was discovering their own oddities but never tense. Asking Bonnie about his little I’m gay stunt had been very awkward, considering he had never even hinted at it before and they had been convinced he just said it to get the footballer to back off of the smaller student, but nope, he was being totally serious. Getting Foxy to speak up about his hand and scars- awkward but not tense. And Chica’s own sexuality?
Well, Chica wasn’t even sure about it herself. She certainly wasn’t about to bring it up with her male, most-likely-gay-or-at-least-bi friends. Especially not right now, not when they had just finished an awkward, tense, uncomfortable and charged conversation.
The tense air made her uncomfortable and she knew it made the others uncomfortable as well. At last, Bonnie finally broke the silence, washing away the tense air as the subject was pushed away; “What’s the answer to number eight?”
The tense silence was gone but Chica couldn’t help but dwell.