((I did start the March writing challenge btw! It's turning out to be absolutely hilarious! Be sure to check it out! Oh no, I broke my un-official vow on no a/ns for this story. Sorry! Also! I'm trying to revamp my writing style. Bear with if updates are far-between and/or jump writing styles. I'm trying to make it even better and longer so you guys will enjoy more. Please let me know if there's anything you'd like to see me try to incorporate. Also! I'm thinking of starting doing followers-only chapters/stories, which is a feature I just found out about, so those who follow my work will be granted access to some... more exciting... chapters! ;)

SPEAKING OF THE STORY I PLANNED THE WHOLE THING OUT LAST NIGHT AND IT'S GOING TO BE ASSBLASTINGLY ADORABLE HECK YEAH! AND I HAVE ALL OF TOMORROW TO DEVOTE TO IT SO LET'S TRY AND GET 2 CHAPTERS DONE! WHOO!

Okay, phew, there's the rant I've been bottlin' up inside of me for the last week or two. Apologies for the outburst. Now, back to actual story.

- This has been a PSA.))

Boss - William - had seen the entire thing.

He stood in the doorway to his personal Office, staring out at the Dining Hall.

Vincent and Scott had always had something going on between them, but not that they could possibly have ever dated! They hated each other! He'd never seen two people hate each other like Vincent and Scott hated each other, from the moment Vincent was hired.

Scott was - forgive the cliché - just like a son to him. Scott's Dad and he had gone to University together, a relationship that was not unlike Remus Lupin and James Potter. 

Scott's Dad had been James.

 Scott's Dad had been the first to see the scraps of metal that were soon to be animatronics, not that he cared. He was too busy partying - and getting Scott's mother pregnant - to really focus on his studies. Unlike Will, who'd spent all his spare time fitting together gears and cogs and making little creatures which ran around his desk.

Scott's Dad and Will had stayed in contact over the years. When Scott was born, Will was woken up at 3am and told to rush to the hospital. Will became Scott's godfather, believe it or not. "A good influence," Scott's father had said with a wink, referring to the good ol' Uni days.

 As a toddler, Scott had scribbled a pirate hook and eyepatch on one of Will's concept sketches, and though, at the time, Will had been absolutely distraught, he realised he could use the little boy's crude lines to an advantage. Thus, Foxy the Pirate Fox was born. Foxy was always Scott's special animatronic.

But now, here was something that he was totally unprepared for. Either Vincent was lying, or Scott... Oh, Scott.

Will started across the Dining Hall to the entrance of the break room, where Mike, Jeremy, and a group of girls were standing, staring at Vincent who was still in the middle of the Dining Hall, a strange expression on his face that seemed to be half proud of himself. Who knows what the other half was. 

"Micheal," Will called out. "Come here. Now."

Obediently, Mike left the group and walked over to his Boss, "Yeah, Boss?"

"Is it true?" Will asked quietly, lowering his voice so only Mike could hear.

"Uh," Mike nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, it's true."

Will nodded, and then let out a long sigh.

Scott, his Mother and his Dad had supported him through the time of investigation with the missing children incident. He'd been on the verge of suicide when Scott's family intervened...

...and it was about time he returned the favour.

He walked away from Mike, down the hallway where Scott had ran off to. He listened out for signs of Scott as he walked, but heard none. He continued down the hallway until he reached the Office, but it was empty. He'd definitely come down this hallway, which meant he should be somewhere along here. He always could have left, but Will had a feeling that Scott wouldn't do that. No, no, Will knew exactly where he'd find Scott.

Will headed back down the corridor, stopping about halfway along. Curses, he could never find the handle for this bloody door, which was little more than a notch in the wall. Only one member of his staff seemed to be able to find the door every time with out fail, and he was currently on the other side of this wall.

His hands clasped around a miniscule bump, and there was a slight click as the door slid open.

Will opened it just wide enough so that he could get in, and closed the door behind him. He turned to Scott, who was sitting on the left of the room, his back against the wall. He was crying. 

Will walked slowly over to Scott and sat down next to him, grunting with the effort. Ah, it was a shame that his joints couldn't be oiled like the animatronics' could.

"I can't believe he did that to me," Scott sobbed, his knees drawn up to his chin. "I can't believe he told!"

Will put an arm around Scott's shoulder, "Yeah, I know, Scott."

Scott didn't react to the touch, just continued crying as if his Boss wasn't there at all. Finally, he lifted his head up and leaned it back on the wall, his eyes still full of tears. He looked vulnerable and hopeless and his voice shook, "I don't even really care if he hated me, but I trusted him, and he promised me he wouldn't tell anyone. I... I thought I knew him. I thought I could confide in him. I thought, maybe, things could change between us..."

Will was on uncharted waters here. Very uncharted. He was distant from his own emotions, and seeing such a display of open sadness was unusual for him. A single thought entered his head, a niggly voice that reminded him of the overly emotional personality that gay men were so stereotyped for, but he tried his hardest to push it out of his mind. There was no way he was going to let himself think any differently of Scott; he knew that was exactly what Scott feared the most.

"I know, Scott. I know," Was all he said.

--

In the middle of the Dining Hall, a lot of things were going on for a particular purple person.

Vincent found himself alone. Nobody had come to his aid or to antagonize him, and it was probably a good thing too. He would have punched the first person he saw into the ground without hesitation. Because, yes, coddamnit, he knew what he did was wrong.

He'd been consumed with anger, anger that was a result of many things. Scott hadn't got jealous. Scott hadn't torn Vincent away from that girl and begged him to kiss him instead of her. Scott had gotten mad at him. Scott had pointed out all of his moral flaws - and loudly, too, across the Dining Hall, ruining his reputation.

So Vincent had ruined his.

But as the anger had subsided, it boiled down to the final facts: Scott was the better man here.

Scott had simply been sticking up for the girls, he hadn't meant to damage Vincent's rep. Vincent, on the other hand... Now, what Vincent had done was take something that he knew Scott was insecure about, something that Scott had trusted him with, and purposefully rubbed it in.

And he'd enjoyed it.

He'd loved seeing the way Scott's face fell, virtually hearing the poor man's heart break.

But the anger was draining out of him fast, and he realised... Well, nothing! He wasn't sorry for what he did! So what if his prey had gotten away? He'd only wanted him for the sex anyway, right!? So what's it to him?!

But.

But, but, but.

But, Vincent thought he might check on him. Just once. Not say anything, certainly not say sorry, just... Well, he couldn't honestly think of a solid reason to check on him. Maybe he could see the pain he'd caused? Yes, that would work. Vincent was going to check on Scott and watch the amount of pain he'd caused. Good. He could live with that.

Vincent turned with dignity out of the Dining Hall and walked slowly down the hallway. He walked down as far as the Office but, realising Scott wasn't there, he stalked back up it, stopping about mid-way along.

The door to the safe room was closed. Vincent couldn't open it without giving himself away - the only way a person could enter is to open the door by hand - but, as he'd learnt over time, the walls were less than soundproof.

Leaning carefully against the door, Vincent pressed his ear to the thin wall.

---

For the seventh time in ten minutes, Will said, "I know, Scott."

That had been all he said. While Scott let it all come out - so to speak - Will had simply reassured him that he understood. He didn't know it, but that meant a lot to Scott. Just knowing somebody understood.

"...and it just hurts, Uncle William. It really hurts! I don't know what I did wrong, what I did to deserve it. And it hurts coming from him, y'know?" Scott looked up at his so-called 'Uncle', though they weren't blood related, and Will saw in his watery eyes that this time Scott wanted more than just reassurance.

"You did nothing to deserve it," Will reassured. "I don't think you deserved it at all. But, you know, sometimes things happen for a reason."

He regretted the words as soon as they were out - Scott's eyes filled with tears once more.

"You think there's a reason behind this? You think something good could ever come of this? What good could ever come of this?!"

"Shh," Will attempted to soothe him, "All I'm saying is, try to look for the silver lining."

"Silver lining," Scott parroted sulkily. Dropping eye contact with his Boss, he put on a exaggeratedly cheery voice. "At least I don't have to worry about girls approaching me now! At least the cat's out of the bag! Scott, Freddy Fazbear's own friendless faggot. Great!"

"Don't call yourself that," Will's eyebrows knitted together, "Hey, Scott, I know it can be really hard, especially when someone you really hate says something really mean, bu-"

Will stopped talking abruptly; he'd said the wrong thing again.

Scott's eyes were overflowing, he buried his head in his hands, sobbing not-so-quietly.

"Scott?" Will asked tentatively.

"I don't hate him, Will. I've never hated him," Scott choked out, gasping for air in between sobs like a drowned fish.

Somebody in Will's mind reached out and flicked a switch. Suddenly it all became clear. The feeling of hurt, of betrayal. "Oh, Scott... ... Oh, Scott..." That was all he could say, suddenly understanding all the pain of the young adult beside him.  "You're in love with Vincent, aren't you?"