Roommates - Ch. 4 (A Girl and Her Dog)

Roommates has moved! You can now read it at Archive of Our Own: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11250126/navigate

Roommates - Ch. 4 (A Girl and Her Dog): http://i.imgur.com/nzSg0nw.png
Inspired by Weaver's Five Nights at Freddy's Apartment AU: http://i.imgur.com/LnDJVNL.png
Part of an ongoing series written for the /5N@F/ General Discussion Thread at /vg/.
Sincerest thanks to Weaver (http://tgweaver.tumblr.com/) for all of the invaluable assistance in writing, proofreading, and editing this story as well as for illustrating the chapter title cards.
Questions or comments? Drop me an ask at http://roommatesau.tumblr.com/

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After breakfast, Freddy tends to cleaning the kitchen, and out of a sense of duty you decide to help him even though he politely tries several times to usher you out. Eventually, he realizes he can't shake you, and thus working together you've got the kitchen good as new within less than fifteen minutes.

Once finished, he heads for his room and takes a seat at his artist's easel, immersing himself in that strange drawing he's been working on. That leaves you with only one other option for conversation, and right now you'd sooner dive out a second-story window than spend more time in Mangle's presence.

You can't help but feel a little annoyed. Chica and Bonnie took off at warp speed the second you started to ask about their own lives. Whether that's intentional or not, you can't be certain -- but it felt like a dodge, and it stings more than a little after you bared yourself, even if you only told them a fraction of the truth. Maybe they don't trust easily, which makes sense for Bonnie. She's obviously, clearly, blatantly unwell. Chica, on the other hand, not so much. She seems reasonably normal, apart from her relative lack of inhibition and of course her facial injuries.

Maybe it's a touchy subject. Maybe you're just thinking about it too much.

Maybe you just need some fresh air.

The weather's a little chilly, so you rummage through your duffel and pull out your coat. With no money to your name until your next check arrives in a couple of days, you're grounded for now, but you're not going to let that keep you from getting out anyway.

You head outside and down the stairs to survey the apartment complex. Now that you're better rested, you figure you might as well get the lay of the land. After all, if you're ever asked to run errands or pick up the mail, you need to know where the facilities and amenities are. Plus, as much as you're just reveling in the company of your new best friends, you've got better things to do than lounge around all day watching chick flicks and getting fat on pastries. You might have been thrust into this situation, but you're not about to become a shut-in like them.

You're getting your life back.

With no real direction, you begin walking briskly through the apartment complex, glancing around for signs of life. Maybe there'll be some other tenants nearby that can tell you a bit about the area. You WOULD have been able to get an excellent feel for your surroundings if Chica had just taken you shopping in the first place, but for whatever reason they left you at home with the wolf-in-wolf's-clothing and the guy who can't speak a real language.

Frowning, you back your mental train of thought up a touch. That's unfair to Freddy, at least. You're sure he's trying his best.


"You can't help being broken like the rest of us."


As you walk along the sidewalk surrounding your apartment building, Bonnie's words continue to bounce around in your head. You're not sure what part bothered you the most: the implication that you can't help your situation, or the implication that you can't help who you are. Why should you apologize for who you are? Why should you pretend to be something you're not?

Or maybe it's that she compared you to the rest of them, like you're all in this together, somehow. As if you're one and the same.

"Broken like the rest of us."

Broken.

Where the HELL does she get off even saying something like that?

Your foot twists out from under you as you suddenly stumble on the sidewalk. Looking down, you see a glass whisky bottle, long deprived of its contents. Something in you snaps. You furiously grab it by the neck and before you even realize what you're doing, you've already gone and thrown it as hard as you could possibly manage.

It sails through the air like a stone from a slingshot, exploding into dozens of shards as it makes contact with a trash can across the street. A rabbit girl walking a dog down the sidewalk cries out in alarm as the glass fragments scatter near her. The dog next to her takes off yelping and limping in circles, wrapping her ankles with its leash.

"Oh, shit," you rasp, realizing your mistake only too late. "I'm so sorry! Oh, god! Are you all right?"

You run across the street to check on the rabbit, pulling back in confusion when you get closer to her.

"Bonnie?" you mutter, rubbing your eyes.

"That's my name," she announces blithely, not even bothering to look up as she focuses on untangling the leash from her legs.

The bunny girl in question is a good foot or so taller than Bonnie, but easily looks like she could be her older sister. She's every bit as electric blue as the rabbit you're living with, dressed in a white hoodie and track pants to match. Both of her ears are pulled back in a sweatband, and she's got a water bottle poking out of one of her hoodie pockets.

As soon as she's finished straightening out the leash, she brushes her sweatshirt off and turns to look at you -- only for her eyes to go wide.

"Oh my gosh," she breathes as the two of you make eye contact. "A HUMAN!"

She lunges toward you, stopping just short of groping your face. Pulling her paw back, she starts to mumble to herself.

"No, no, remember -- personal space. C'mon, can't do this again in public..." The sheer amount of kinetic energy coming from this girl is real. As twitchy and erratic as your Bonnie is, this one's all of that cranked up to ten with none of the fear to hold her back. "Ooooohh ooh! Chimpanzee going for the look, right? Wow, that's dedication! Shaved and everything! Or is it laser hair removal? Or -- eww, not waxing, right?"

She makes a weird, twitchy face as the sentence leaves her mouth, and you find yourself equally repulsed by such a thought.

"Oh, I hope not, it really freakin' hurts," she continues excitedly, her voice cracking under the strain of her sheer enthusiasm. "Err -- not that I've tried, or anything. But ooh -- OH MY GOSH. Are you -- a HUMIE?"

"Haha, um -- actually, I, uh, well, I am a human," you reply nervously, gauging her face for a reacion. Her eyes light up as she leans in towards you, sliding side to side like some kind of mechanical scanner.

"Man, you're REALLY really good," she giggles as she appraises you, paw raised to her mouth. You're not sure she's blinked even once this entire time. "You almost convinced me, but I can see a few of the tells."

Tells? What tells?!?

"Bonnie -- no, sorry, what did you say your name was again?" you ask politely. You can't possibly know two separate Bonnies that both happen to be bright blue rabbits. That'd just be weird and confusing.

"Oh, no, you were right the first time. I'm Bonnie -- well, that's sort of a nickname? Long story. Anyway, my real name's Bonbon, but my friends call me Bonnie for short."

Wait a second -- how is "Bonnie" any shorter than "Bonbon"?

She puffs up her chest, unzipping her hoodie a little to show you her cartoon tee shirt. It depicts a bunch of cartoon humans standing around in goofy poses, holding common items like coffee pots and calculators.

"What are your favorite human stories? As you can see, I used to be HUGE into Human Rider X until it jumped the shark after the second season. Now I'm binge-watching Legend of Bob."

Bonbon's eyes narrow as she shakes her fists in mock anger.

"The dub, though? Real freaking unconvincing! I just absolutely LOVE how you can TELL it's a cat trying to sound like a human. NOT! Like he'd have any clue what a human sounds like! I don't understand why they don't go with the ORIGINAL primate voice actors and then just do subtitles for the official release. Ugh, it's painful!"

You're through the looking glass now and you're desperately trying not to lose it laughing.

"Well, you've got me," you grin as she settles down from her tirade. "My name's Mike Schmidt, but please, just call me Mike. Nice to meet you, Bonbon -- in fact, do you mind if I stick with that? I've already got a friend named Bonnie."

"Oh, sure, I don't mind. If it helps you keep us straight in your head that works for me. Bonnie's kind of a common nickname, actually," she replies, absently counting something off on her fingers.

"Fantastic," you reply.

"Oh -- and this is my friend, Foxy," she adds, pointing to her red-furred dog.

Bonbon pulls her water bottle and uncaps it, squirting a little on Foxy's tongue. What a mess; the poor thing's got on a flea collar AND a neck cone, and -- is it missing one of its legs? It appears as though there's a metal prosthetic at the end of its right front foot. Bending down to examine it, you double-take -- oh, god, is that a hook? Who the hell would put a hook on a dog?

Kneeling, you pat the dog on the head in a non-threatening manner.

"Who's a good boy?" you ask with a gentle smile.

Foxy looks up at you as if pondering what you have to say.

"Young Lindy! Now there was a cabin boy. Gone ashore. 'You need a helmet', I told him," he finally replies, glassy gaze drifting as he starts to speak.

"Your dog talks?" you ask curiously.

Both of them look at you like you're high.

"Dog?" Bonnie asks incredulously.

"I'm Foxy, a mighty pirate!" he insists boisterously. "It's in the name! Firate Poxy. And now they're all down with the pox. Medicine, sure! That'll be a king's ransom."

"Aahh, well, sorry -- it's been a long, er, morning," you chuckle nervously, taking a step back. "I'll be completely honest with you, the leash and the harness and all that -- not gonna lie, the leash was what confused me."

She glances down at Foxy, rubbing her chin. "Oh, okay. I guess I can see how you'd think that. His family asks me to put one on him when we go for our walks, so he won't be as likely to get run over by a car again." A-again?!

Foxy stands up slightly, wobbling a little as he does. He's so frail it's hard to imagine how he can hold himself together.

"When's lunch?"

"Not for a little while yet, Foxy. You just ate, remember?" she replies. She glances nervously at you then back at Foxy, who's attentively staring at a nearby mailbox.

His voice jolts, rising sharply with a toothy enunciation.

"B-BonbonnnnnnnnnnnnnNNNNN, when's when's when when when's lunch?" he stammers, waiting patiently for a reply. After a few seconds of silence, he sheepishly flips the mailbox's plastic flag up, as if that was the reason he wasn't getting a response.

"In yer own time, lass," he adds gently with a soft smile.

"I should get going. I need to get him back home soon." Bonbon pats Foxy's head sympathetically. "What apartment do you live in? Anytime you want to come over, feel free! I'm in 87-A!"

You blink. "No kidding! I'm in 87-B, so I guess the one right above you then?"

"Oh, wow!" She claps her paws, accidentally tugging Foxy backwards in the process.

"Oop, tide's comin'," he says, waving goodbye to the mailbox.

"Foxy here's in 93-B, so the next building over from yours. On good days for him, I like to get out and take him for a walk so that his joints don't lock up. You know how it is."

You nod as if this is the most normal thing in the world. For all you know at this point, it is.

"Sure, I totally understand you. Well, it was real nice meeting both of you guys. Hope to see you around soon," you offer, shaking Bonbon's paw.

"Oh, wow, it's smooth," she says, feeling and prodding the skin of your hand for an uncomfortable several seconds. "I didn't expect it to feel so -- so smooth! And soft! Wow. Maybe I should look into waxing but -- no, not again, not after last time."

She awkwardly shuffles her feet before looking back up at you and grinning.

"Anyway, yeah, I'll see you around, Mike!"

"See you," you reply, tilting your head in befuddlement as Bonbon and Foxy take off, leaving you alone on the sidewalk. Of course, you learned really nothing about the area, but you did at least make some new acquaintances. Sighing, you turn and look back at the apartment building and begin to trudge back in the direction of your home.

Broken, huh.