No Compromise, Chica
“Chica, dear, you’ve been down for a while now. What’s wrong?”
The chicken frowned and glanced over at her mother. “It’s nothing,” she assured the concerned hen. “Just some issues at school.”
“It’s only been two days,” her mother noted, surprise evident in her tone. “You’ve never had any problems this early.”
Turning back to the pot of noodles she was boiling, Chica let out a sigh. “It’s really nothing, more petty than anything,” she half-lied, thinking about Bonnie and Freddy’s concerns. “We were assigned science partners is all. And we have assigned seats in math. It’s, uh, alphabetical order, so I’m nowhere near the others,” she explained briefly, stirring the noodles. They’re almost done.
“Well, are you with one of your friends in science?” her mother prompted, raising a brow at her. Chica couldn’t help but snort at that.
“No,” she answered, watching the noodles shift and loosen. “In fact I’m with someone I have literally never spoken to before.”
“Look at it this way; it’s a chance to make a new friend,” Mrs. Sanchez declared optimistically. Chica averted her magenta eyes, not wanting to tell her mother exactly what she thought about her new science partner... or what could potentially be going on with her and her friends. “You could invite them over for dinner one day-”
“No,” Chica immediately interrupted, cringing as she did so. Quickly, she went on to explain, “I mean, she doesn’t exactly like me. At all. Inviting her would probably be a huge disaster.”
She chanced a glance at the hen mixing the sauce, noticing she was frowning. “Well, dear,” she started, “maybe you just need to prove the girl wrong. I don’t see how anyone could dislike you.”
“That’s because you’re my mom,” Chica snorted and turned the stove off, carefully picking the pot up and heading over to the strainer sitting in the sink. “Not everyone can like me, you know. There’s plenty of people who don’t like girls like me.”
“Well that’s their problem, now isn’t it?”
“Damn straight,” Chica muttered under her breath, too quietly for her mother to hear, as she poured the noodles into the strainer. Then again, she doesn’t know anything about me. I don’t know anything about her, either. Didn’t stop me before... but now...
She pushed the thought out of her mind, shaking her head to herself. Geez, Chica, you’re starting to sound like Bonnie. She’s strange but she doesn’t act like some traumatized child. She knew that for a fact; she, as well as the others, had been watching Springtrap- is it even okay to call him that anymore?- and his friends, just as they had said they would. She did understood where Bonnie and Freddy were coming from, truly she did now that she was actually looking for it.
Springtrap- maybe I should just call him Salvage instead- tended to flinch at unexpected sounds and when someone accidentally brushed against him. He would inch away when anyone got too close, and he was always looking around, as if not wanting to be overheard by anyone. He also seemed to be the... leader? The others seemed to naturally follow him, anyways.
Blanc... well, to be honest, Blanc didn’t seem to react much. It was almost as though they never even noticed other people- right up until the moment a shoulder bumped into them, where they would flinch away, as if expecting... something. What they could possibly be expecting, though, Chica didn’t want to think about.
Fischbach was very quiet. In Chica’s observation, he hadn’t said much, and he tended to be very neutral-looking. But, she knew, he was watching everything; in a crowded hallway and in the math classroom, when they had to stand up to wait for their assigned seats, he had placed himself between his friends and everyone else. There just seemed to be a protective air around him that kind of reminded Chica of Freddy...
Then there was Rodriguez, the peppy, optimistic Spaniard. Chica just couldn’t see in him what Bonnie had seen; all she could see was an annoyingly-happy and clumsy rabbit. However, if she was to give Bonnie any merit whatsoever, she had to believe that he had seen something in the rabbit to suggest that it was all a facade, something that didn’t bleed through earlier that day while she watched him.
Now Kain. Chica had noticed literally nothing about Kain. She wasn’t anything like her friends, but she still stuck with them anyway, smiling and talking with only them, and the others seemed to form a natural barrier between her and the other people in the school. It was as if they were isolating her...
Or as if they were daring anyone to try anything.
From that perspective, Chica figured, all of Kain’s friends were being protective- not just Fischbach. They created a barrier around her... possibly to protect her? But from what?
Chica sighed, stirring the noodles up and stepping aside to let her mother deal with the sauce. Thinking on it objectively, even Chica had to admit that Kain was pretty- very pretty. It had been a topic of debate back in late middle, early high school; why did someone like Kain hang out with someone like Salvage? If she really tried, she could completely beat out at least half of the cheerleaders, and if she weren’t so... strange, Chica had no doubt Kain could have a string of boyfriends- or girlfriends- if she wanted to. Certainly a lot of people would love having someone who looked like her around, despite whatever... poor personality she could potentially possess.
Of course, along with such “good” things (though, personally, Chica would not call them “good”) came the unwanted attention.
Maybe that’s what her friends are trying to prevent.
“-ears, dear?”
Blinking, Chica looked over at her mother. Oh crap, has she been speaking this whole time? “Ah, sorry mom, got lost in thought, can you repeat that?”
Her mother rolled her eyes, amused. “I was asking if you and your friends have any plans for the holidays, like Halloween or New Years?”
Chica hummed softly, shoving the thoughts about her science partner to the side to focus. “Foxy’s parents invited us to New York to watch the ball drop,” Chica told her, opening a cabinet to grab plates. “And I think the Fazbears are planning a Halloween party for the entire junior and senior classes. Rented out a venue at the end of Lakeview and everything.”
“That sounds expensive,” Mrs. Sanchez laughed, shaking her head. It was so typical of the Fazbears to do something like that. “Any chaperones?”
“Duh,” Chica snorted, walking over to the dining room table to set it. “It is technically a school event, they’re just funding it. I think they’ll be taking volunteers, actually.”
“Well as long as there’s adult supervision,” Mrs. Sanchez sighed as she carried the pasta to the table.
“These are the Fazbears and the school system we’re talking about, mom,” Chica reminded her, heading over to the stairs. She decided not to point out that several of the students would already be eighteen by then- Bonnie and the Fazbear twins included. “Dad, supper’s ready!”
She didn’t receive a response but she did hear a door close, so she went back into the dining room. As she did, she glanced at the pictures on the wall again, taking in the pictures of her, her family, and her friends.
Briefly, she wondered if Kain viewed her friends as family. That would certainly explain the closeness- the protectiveness- surrounding the five friends who didn’t really seem to have that much in common- at least, not that much on the surface. She didn’t exactly know them, after all.
With a sigh, she went to her seat and plopped down, waiting for her father and mother to join her. Why has life gotten so complicated?
The moment they entered the science classroom, all of her friends fell silent. Chica gave them a confused glance, then followed their gazes to the other students in the classroom.
Their science partners were all there, looking rather... tense wasn’t the best word for it. Off? Off sounded like a good word.
Well, more off than usual, anyway.
Frowning, Chica slipped into her seat and glanced over towards Bonnie. She raised a brow as she noticed he had immediately pulled out a notebook; it was in his lap, under the desk and out of sight of their teacher and his partner, and he was scribbling something in it. She couldn’t make anything out, but she could definitely tell that it was a list of some kind.
What in the world are you doing, Bonnie?
When Bonnie had finished writing, moments before the bell rang, he flipped the notebook closed and glanced over towards her. He simply shrugged, not giving her any answer to her silent question.
“Alright, class!” Dr. Schmidt started much too happily for the tense air of the classroom. “Homework!”
Obediently, Chica pulled her binder out and removed the packet from its proper folder, setting it down on her desk. Beside her, Kain simply pulled her packet from a textbook- a math textbook, Chica noted absently- before turning around, clearly anticipating Dr. Schmidt’s “pass it to the front!”
Chica turned to face Foxy, noticing his frustrated frown as he handed his own packet over. A brief glance at the packet showed several scratched-out answers on the first few questions- the only evidence that Foxy had been bothered at all the day they were working on it.
Her eyes trailed over to Freddy and Goldie, both of whom seemed to be looking at each other. She couldn’t see Goldie’s expression, but Freddy seemed very... freaked out, actually.
Worried, even.
She didn’t spend too much time dwelling on it, turning around and setting Foxy’s packet on top of her own just before Dr. Schmidt reached their row.
The doctor set the stack of papers on his desk and turned around to face the students. “Now that we’ve got the homework out of the way, let’s talk about your first lab,” he started. “You won’t be working on it until Friday, as today we’ll be doing the lecture first, but in it you will be observing how the steel wool reacts to the fire.”
Chica couldn’t resist rolling her eyes and leaning back in her seat, watching the instructor. Talk about freshman stuff, she silently snorted, lightly tapping her foot against the ground. After a few seconds, she glanced at Kain to see her hands tightly folded on her desk, her blue eyes firmly locked on them. She was tense, uncomfortable, and very clearly not paying attention.
Not that anyone was paying attention. Chica had a feeling everyone heard the word “steel wool” and immediately tuned out. The human girls to their left were quietly giggling together, actually...
She glanced over at Bonnie, whose eyes were on their teacher yet a million miles away. His expression was tight. Subtly, she turned her head to look back at the twins; Goldie was staring at his paper, relaxed and distant, as his pencil moved along the page, and behind Goldie Freddy just watched Dr. Schmidt, his expression screaming boredom. Chica couldn’t see Foxy, but she could hear his pen against paper.
Then Salvage jumped and Goldie jerked to attention, evidently startled by whatever had scared Salvage. Chica didn’t get a chance to really register what it was before Salvage’s hand was in the air.
“Yes, Mr. Salvage?” Dr. Schmidt asked with very little hesitation.
“May I step out for a moment?” the rabbit requested, his voice somewhat shaky.
“Of course,” Dr. Schmidt allowed, not commenting on the fact that Salvage was out of his seat before the words had completely left his mouth.
“Hello, this is Spr...” Chica caught just before the door closed. She quickly glanced towards Kain to find the chicken turning around to, very briefly, share a look with the white and pink fox behind her.
“Mr. Rodriguez, face the front please,” Dr. Schmidt commanded, and the chicken quickly turned back around as if the command had been for her instead. Lightly, she could hear Kain’s shoe tapping against the tiled floor, and she twisted her hands together on the desk.
Fidgety today, aren’t’cha...
“Let’s go over lab safety now. No baggy clothes, no open-toed shoes...” Chica let out a silent breath and leaned forward on her hand, watching the scientist boredly. They had been doing lab safety for years, one would think that in an advanced science class they wouldn’t need to go over it again.
She felt a pencil poke her in the back, and while Dr. Schmidt was looking the other way, she reached behind her. Foxy slipped the paper into her hand quickly, and she pulled it into her lap, unfolding it as quietly as she could.
Why did Freddy & Goldie look freaked out?
How should I know? She asked silently, glancing towards the door as the golden rabbit slipped back inside. While their instructor was speaking to Salvage, she quickly scrawled a reply; Idk I guess something happened. We’ll ask later. She dropped it over her shoulder onto his desk and looked back towards the front to see Salvage turn to walk back to his desk.
He didn’t sit down, however; instead, he knelt down and began packing up. Apparently he was leaving.
Chica’s gaze fell on Bonnie to find him, once again, writing in his notebook. She frowned. Note to self, ask about that, too.
Looking back towards their instructor, she noted his back was now turned and he was writing out symbols on the board. With a silent groan, she leaned on her right hand. Can you be any more elementary? Everyone knows what a skull and crossbones means!
The door clicked shut, and the entire class all just seemed to shut down, not even bothering to listen to the doctor as he explained the meanings behind each symbol and what to do in case of a chemical spill. Chica briefly gave Kain a glance to find her staring at her desk, her blue eyes strangely cold looking.
It made Chica wonder what exactly the chicken was thinking.
Shifting in her seat, Chica looked towards the clock. Class wasn’t even half over. Dropping her gaze to Bonnie, she found him slipping the notebook back into his bag; on his other side, it looked like Rodriguez had decided right then and there was a good time to sleep.
This is gonna take forever, she realized dully, muffling a sigh and leaning on her hand. Dr. Schmidt didn’t seem to give a damn that the entire class had tuned him out, choosing instead to keep droning on... and on... and on...
It barely registered in her mind that whatever energy Dr. Schmidt had held at the start of the class period was gone.
The rest of class seemed to crawl by, and when the bell rang at least half of the class jerked to attention while the other half nearly jumped ten feet in the air in surprise. Chica slid out of her desk and stood up, glancing around the room. Goldie was stuffing his belongings into his bag while Freddy was calmly zipping his bag; Bonnie just grabbed his books and hitched his own bag up on his back, not bothering to toss the books in, and Foxy slipped his notebook inside.
Salvage’s group of friends didn’t move for several silent moments as the humans in the class all filed out. Then, almost as if realizing what was going on, Fischbach closed his notebook and slid it into his bag, dropping his pen somewhere among the mess, and stood up. The action prompted his remaining friends, including Kain, to do the same.
Bonnie shared a look with Chica before heading out the door, and Chica was quick to follow. A glance back showed Salvage’s friends simply grouped together near the bear’s desk, waiting for the Fazbears and Foxy to leave.
“Weird,” she muttered as Goldie, Freddy, and Foxy joined them in the hallway, heading towards the cafeteria. “What-”
“Not here,” Bonnie interrupted, glancing to their left where the varsity football team was passing. Chica frowned, casting her gaze around, and she understood where Bonnie was coming from; too many people, too little privacy.
They couldn’t even talk about what just happened. Well damn.
“Right,” she muttered an agreement, entering the cafeteria and making her way to their table. Not for the first time she regretted their choice to sit with the other popular students. She would have much rather been sitting with just her “brothers.”
Taking her seat next to some random cheerleader, she turned to pull out the lunches she’d made for herself and her friends.
“So,” Foxy started, trying to break the awkward air settling around them, “that movie marathon this weekend...”
“I dunno,” Goldie mumbled, sounding oddly... calm, given what had just happened. “I don’t think I’m feeling up to a marathon anymore.”
“Same,” Freddy agreed with a sigh, sounding much more distraught than his brother. “Why don’t we save the marathon for a different weekend?”
“I think,” Bonnie started, popping the lid off of the salad Chica had offered him, “that we should... I dunno... go to the park?”
Frowning, Chica eyed him. Foxy, on the other hand, just shrugged and looked away, as if he knew exactly what Bonnie was talking about.
“Which park?” Goldie asked, curious.
“The one with the lake,” Bonnie explained vaguely, glancing towards the ceiling. “Not pond, but the actual lake.”
“You mean Lakeview Park?” Chica clarified, and Bonnie nodded. “Why would we go all the way out there? It’s a little far from our houses.”
“Yeah but we’re planning on going to New York and that is way far from our houses,” Bonnie countered, his crimson eyes not falling to meet Chica’s magenta. He knows something. “Besides, it’s a good park.”
“Aye,” Foxy mumbled an agreement, sounding distant and in thought. “That it is.”
“Right,” Chica agreed, albeit somewhat suspicious. Bonnie, why aren’t you really explaining?
“...saw him in the office. Guess he didn’t do his homework or something, must’ve gotten in trouble,” a voice from next to Chica broke through her thoughts, the cheerleader’s voice reminding her exactly why Bonnie wasn’t explaining anything. Bonnie, although his eyes never left the ceiling, twitched and scowled at the words.
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” another human agreed, laughing. “Springtrap never was that good a student.”
Goldie and Freddy shared a look and Bonnie’s scowl deepened while Foxy shifted uncomfortably in his spot next to Chica.
It was ironic, and it hit her like a brick in the face; here they were, the “Fazcrew” as the school had dubbed them, becoming uncomfortable- and in Bonnie’s case, somewhat mad- about their fellow students talking about Salvage... when they themselves had done the same thing just a few days before.
But now, she remembered, glancing around at her friends before dropping her eyes back to her food, things just aren’t that simple.
We didn’t know anything.
Being in a highschool Spanish classroom when Spanish was your first language was amusing at best, deathly boring at worst. However, the plus of being in a Spanish I class on the second day of Spanish class meant they were going over the alphabet and she could just zone out, dwelling in her own thoughts.
When the bell rang, it was like an angel had opened the gates of heaven or something; students practically stampeded the door. Chica just watched in amusement before standing up and following once the coast was clear.
It didn’t take her long to locate her friends, and wordlessly they headed outside with the horde of juniors and seniors towards the parking lots. Their fellow students ran around, having good times with their friends and seemingly uncaring that they were supposed to be acting so much more mature than they were at that moment.
Chica decided not to make any comments about it, though. After all, they were all still students; might as well let them enjoy their youth while they could.
As the crowd dispersed, leaving them to walk to Goldie’s van in relative isolation, they finally began talking.
“So,” Foxy started, almost managing to sound casual, “Bonnie... Mind telling us what that was about?”
“What?” Bonnie asked, sounding legitimately confused by their canine friend’s question, and Chica had to resist smacking her hand against her forehead. The expression on Freddy’s face told her he was struggling not to smack the rabbit.
“During science,” Foxy clarified, glancing at their friend with an almost disbelieving expression. He was fiddling with his prosthetic, a tight frown on his lips.
“Oh,” Bonnie mumbled in understanding, frowning as he thought back to their science class. “He apparently had a family emergency and had to go pick someone up,” he explained to them, shrugging slightly as he spoke. “Apparently it was an hour away, so there was no way he would make it back to school for the rest of classes.” Chica had thought that was the end of that, but then the rabbit continued with, “It sounded like he already had an arrangement with the school. Dr. Schmidt looked and sounded like he already knew what was going on the moment he saw Salvage’s hand.”
Thinking back on it, Chica realized that Bonnie was right. Dr. Schmidt hadn’t even asked why Salvage needed to step out, or why he had his phone on in the middle of class. He hadn’t even hesitated to grant Salvage’s request.
“He was holding his phone,” Goldie informed them, as if all of them didn’t know. He had answered the phone before even leaving the room, after all. “I heard it vibrate but he had it out of sight before I could actually see it.”
Typical, she thought, sighing softly to herself. Well, let’s see what the bros know.
“So Salvage had to leave for a family emergency,” she started, stopping next to the van to wait for Goldie to unlock the doors. “That makes sense. But what was up with y’all at the very start?” She turned to look at the brown bear, raising a brow at him. “Freddy, ya looked like someone just keeled over and died right in front of ya.”
“Might as well have,” the twins snorted in unison, though neither sounded amused at all. Goldie proceeded to unlock the doors while Freddy glanced around. Noting that they were relatively alone and no Animals were near them, the younger twin allowed his voice to drop into a whisper as he told Chica, “There was a bloodstain on Fischbach’s homework. Tried to excuse it as ketchup.”
Frowning, Chica shared a look with Foxy. Sure, neither of them were denying something was going on, but a bloodstain was... worse than Chica was wanting to think.
If Freddy had more to say, he was silenced by the sound of approaching laughter. Goldie cleared his throat, prompting them all to turn and look at him. He had his door open and he gestured inside the van. “I don’t think a parking lot is the best place for this conversation,” he told them, and knowing he was right, they all opened their doors and climbed in, settling down in their usual seats.
Notably, Foxy sat down in the middle back seat rather than next to a window.
“Anyone could hear us out there, ya know,” Goldie explained shortly as he closed his door.
“Yeah,” Bonnie agreed, settling into his seat behind Freddy and pulling his seatbelt on. Once every door was shut and the vehicle roared to life, the rabbit continued, “So Salvage had to run out in the middle of class, Fischbach’s homework was bloodstained, and Rodriguez had a big ugly bruise on his face.” Huh, I didn’t notice that one. Whoops. “Anything up with Kain and Blanc today?”
Chica looked towards Bonnie with a slight frown, considering the way Kain had been behaving that day. There was nothing that screamed help, I’m in trouble! but that didn’t mean she wasn’t acting off.
Before she could say anything, though, Foxy answered, “Blanc wouldn’t sit still. They were really out of it, too.” Chica glanced towards Foxy, noting the frown had morphed into a scowl, but he wasn’t meeting any of their eyes. “Only tuned in long enough to watch Salvage leave and went right back to starin’ out the window.”
“Kain didn’t do much,” Chica told her friends, looking forward again as she considered Kain’s actions. She just sat there and stared at her desk. Didn’t even take notes. With a shrug, she added, “Kinda just sat there, starin’ at her desk. Seemed tense but nothin’ really off, per se.”
It was silent for a few moments before Freddy asked, “Still think we’re misunderstandin’ the situation?”
How could they answer that? A bloodstain, a bruise... a bloody bandage, a bruise... what answer is there to that question? No one’s denyin’ somethin’s wrong here.
The silence dragged on for several minutes as Goldie pulled out onto the road, heading towards his and his brother’s house. Finally, he said, “There’s always a chance.” His voice was low, flat, and disbelieving. Clearly he didn’t believe even himself. “But I don’t think we are... not anymore, anyway...”
Chica considered his words. Undoubtedly, undeniably, something was going on, but it could have been any number of things. Fights, gang activity, self-abuse, domestic abuse... They don’t even exhibit the same signs.
“I don’t think we know exactly what’s going on,” she finally decided, sighing. The more she thought about it, the more lost she felt. “I honestly don’t think there’s one flat answer to this, guys. Somethin’s goin’ on but I just don’t think we have the full story.”
Of course we don’t, she scoffed silently to herself. There’s no way for us to get the full story.
“It’s only the third day of school,” Bonnie pointed out, and Chica bit her tongue. No, it’s the start of the thirteenth year. Apparently, Bonnie realized that as well as he amended, “The third day we’re actually paying any attention, anyway.”
“We’re bound to notice something if there’s anything else,” Chica finished, receiving distant, if distracted, nods of agreement from her friends.
A few seconds passed before Freddy suggested, “Maybe we should talk to them about it?” His voice was hesitant; clearly he knew how that would be met. Chica furrowed her brow, staring incredulously at her friend.
Talk to them? I think not.
Unsurprisingly, Foxy was the first to react, squealing, “Talk to them?! Are you crazy, Fazbear?! It’s one thing watchin’ ‘em from a distance but actually gettin’ involved- at that point we might as well just call the cops!”
Well... why aren’t we? I mean, we don’t know what’s going on but we know somethin' is happening...
“We can’t,” Goldie deadpanned, almost startling Chica; he had fallen so quiet that she had almost figured he’d dropped out of the conversation. “We’re in unfamiliar ground, Foxy. Besides, I don’t think you call up the cops to say “I think one of my classmates is gettin’ knocked around” or somethin’.”
Not without proof.
“The CPS,” she suggested flatly, but she knew that wouldn’t work. Everyone knew how infamous the CPS had become- children from families they checked frequently turned up dead all the time. It was a sad truth, at least in their community.
“They usually give prior warning,” Bonnie pointed out, sounding very unhappy about that fact. He added, “They’re not good at hidin’ it but I get the feelin’ they’re damn good at hidin’ the tracks.”
She knew who “they” were, of course.
“Then what can we do?” Foxy demanded hotly. “We can’t talk to them. One, we don’t like them. Two, they don’t like us. Three, we still don’t know what the hell’s goin’ on.”
“It wouldn’t kill us to be more friendly towards them,” Freddy told the fox, his voice suddenly sharp. Chica frowned, raising a brow at her friend. “Besides, I don’t dislike them, I’ve always been neutral on this subject. The only reason they don’t like us is because you lot all started actin’ aggressive towards them. I clearly remember them bein’ neutral about us until they finally noticed.”
Sensing an argument about to break out, Chica interrupted with, “Arguin’ won’t do us any good.” Unknowing that her next words would start the argument, she continued, “How about this, let’s compromise.”
“Compromise?” Bonnie repeated, disbelieving. She glanced towards him, frowning. “What’s there to compromise about? Someone’s gettin’ hurt, when someone’s hurt you fucking help them, whether you like them or not!”
“Has it occurred to you that the best way to help may be to not get involved?” Chica asked him, raising a brow at him. Bonnie scowled right back. “They’re always together, clearly they’re just as close as us five are. They don’t need us when they have each other.”
The way Bonnie was staring at her told her that Bonnie was definitely not seeing it her way. They’re always together, all of them have four other people to lean on- people who understand.
However, that in itself seemed to be the problem. “Oh yeah,” the rabbit snorted before putting on a mockingly chipper voice, oddly reminding Chica of Dr. Schmidt. “Yeah, let Rodriguez rely on Fischbach, both of whom have bled in the last three days. Or better yet, let them rely on Blanc- the kid who barely pays any attention to where they’re going. Or Salvage, who’s apparently having family problems and is having to play the role of parent already.”
The role of parent. It seemed like Bonnie hadn’t told them everything after all. Instead of asking, however, she gave Bonnie a warning look and said, “Bonnie.”
He wasn’t about to listen to her, though, she realized as he scowled at her and said, “Their foundation is unstable, Chica. Face it. What happens to houses built on unstable foundations? They collapse.”
That’s irrelevant, Chica thought, narrowing her eyes at Bonnie. These are people, not houses, Bonnie. “These are people, Bonnie, not houses,” she started, but the rabbit didn’t even hesitate to cut her off yet again.
“What happens if Rodriguez gets killed, Chica? Or Fischbach- or any of them? What then? If it takes all five of them to be an unstable foundation, what happens when one of them falls?” The rabbit didn’t even give her a chance to answer, barreling on with, “They all fall, that’s what!”
That isn’t fair, she thought, staring at her friend. He stared back at her, his red eyes like burning steel, and she knew Bonnie wasn’t going to let it go. Ya can’t just say that. Ya don’t know what’s goin’ on. Ya can’t say that.
“You don’t know that,” Foxy mumbled, unconsciously echoing Chica’s thoughts. His voice, however, held no conviction. “You’re suggestin’ things again, Bonnie. Things that might not be true at all.”
“They’re troubled,” Goldie suddenly spoke up, his voice quiet as the van came to a stop, “but they’re not... that troubled, are they?”
We don’t know.
It was a miserable thought- because if Bonnie was right about anything, it was that they didn’t know just how bad off their classmates were.
The only thing they knew was that there was some kind of trouble.
“That’s what we need to find out,” Freddy softly told them, unbuckling his seatbelt and grabbing his bag as Goldie cut the ignition off. “The simple fact of the matter is we don’t know. And that’s a problem.”
Chica watched the bear set his hand on the door handle, but then he paused and looked around at all of them, frowning slightly. “I don’t know about you,” he started slowly, “but I don’t want to keep being one more crack in their foundation. If their foundation, as Bonnie is suggesting, is unstable and breaking...” he paused, as if unsure about his next words. Chica had a feeling she didn’t want to hear them.
“I don’t want to be the thing that breaks it.”
Then he was out the door and walking up to the house, leaving the four of them in the car. It didn’t take a genius to know what Freddy meant.
He was done with standing on the sidelines.
All it took for him was three days, and he’s completely throwing aside everything we know about them... but... did we ever actually know anything?
“I don’t either,” Bonnie muttered, roughly opening his door and jumping out to follow Freddy. The silence that they were left in was heavy, and Chica felt like her heart was beating too fast, too hard.
Their minds were made up, and Chica knew nothing she could say or do would change them. Freddy and Bonnie knew more than the rest of them put together, though- really, she shouldn’t have been surprised.
Goldie’s door opened and he barely glanced back at them before sliding out and following the other two. In that glance Chica could see it in his eyes; he was with Bonnie and Freddy.
It was a situation that she had never imagined happening; her and her friends were divided.
“I’m such a fucking hypocrite,” Foxy muttered, prompting her to look at him. His ears were flat and he was scowling, but he was rubbing his hand over his eyes.
“Why d’ya say that?” Chica asked, finally unbuckling her seatbelt and opening her door.
“Because I’ve already tried to talk to Blanc,” he mumbled, not looking up at her. Chica paused, staring at him in surprise.
“What?”
“I tried callin’ ‘em last night,” Foxy sighed, dropping his hand into his lap to hit the release button. “They didn’t pick up, but still I already tried what the others’re suggestin’, and now I’m over here gettin’ mad about ‘em wantin’ to do what I already tried.”
Foxy tried contacting Blanc. It was an odd, surprising thought; Foxy, who had been the most adamant that nothing was going on, that they shouldn’t get involved if something was... had already tried contacting and asking Blanc about it.
He was the very first to do exactly what he was protesting.
Yeah... you are a hypocrite...
“It’s just been botherin’ me,” Foxy confessed, grabbing his bag off of the seat next to him. He still refused to meet her eyes. “Somethin’ isn’t right with that fox, and I can’t help but think it’s a lot more than them bein’... imaginative, or whatever.”
“So... you actually agree with them, despite havin’ been arguin’ against them,” Chica surmised, raising a brow at her friend.
“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to get involved,” Foxy stated, shaking his head at her. “Somethin’ isn’t right and I do think those... er, Salvage and his friends need help, but I don’t think we have a right to even think about trying to be that help.”
She understood. They had been antagonizing- or at least trying to antagonize- those students since middle school; what right did they have to try and reach out to them?
Then again, by that logic...
With a sigh, she ran her hand through her feathers. It wasn’t fair. “If not us, then who?”
“I don’t know.”
Magenta met amber and Chica shared a frown with the fox. Their friends had already made their decision; they were going to try and undo what they had already done. To extend an olive branch, of sorts. To try and... befriend the students they had spent so many years hating. Hating for no real reason.
I suppose, she thought, it won’t work if only three-fifths of the group is makin’ an effort. With that thought, she picked her bag up out of the floorboard and turned to slide out of the door, frowning to herself.
“Then I guess we’ll just have to do.”