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In a haze of adrenaline and sleep deprivation Arnold stumbled his way out of the Murray mansion. He found his way down the tall hill, back to the parking lot where his van was parked, but he didn't realize until he made it to the vans doors what he held in his hands. It seemed at some point in his fugue state he had picked up the same monstrous animatronic that had been hunting him down all night, the mimic.
Arnold held the mimic upright, its head leaning on his shoulder, like someone might hold a toddler who fell asleep in their arms... which the robot sort of was now. After Arnold had found all the pieces to the bedtime story and played them on the cassette player, the mimic had shrunk down and its eyes changed from a menacing orange to a soft blue. Arnold took a closer look at the seemingly asleep animatronic in his arms, its glowing eyes had gone dull and in its metal arms it still clutched the white tiger doll.
'Oh jeez', Arnold thought, while shuffling the sleeping robot into one arm, grabbing his car keys with the other. He carefully unlocked the passenger door and set down the kid mimic in the seat before rushing over to the drivers side and sitting down. After finally making it to the safety of his van, Arnold leaned his forehead on top of the steering wheel and let out a small sob. That small sob broke down the dam as all of his stress and fear of the previous night came forward in shaky breaths and tears.
His breakdown was however cut short as Arnold heard a rustling coming from the chair next to him. With a hiccupping gasp Arnold stopped crying and turned to look where he knew the murderous robot sat. Said murderous robot was currently 'waking up' (or as close to waking up as a not living being could). Its eyes started to glow once more and in an odd display of humanity, it wiped its eyes as if rubbing the sand out of them.
"Where am I?" The mimic said, while looking around the van, taking in its surroundings. It spoke in a familiar voice, one of the same voices Arnold heard on the cassette tapes scattered around the MCM facility. The voice of David, Edwin Murrays son.
Arnold, mouth gaping a little, stutters out "You're in my van". Before the animatronic could respond, the radio in Arnolds car buzzes to life. The voice of Fazbear's dispatch ringing through.
"Arnold! We've been trying to get a hold of you all night! Listen, did you get those schematics we need?". Arnold is about to respond yes, that they're right here on his data diver, but he thinks about it for a second. He turns and looks at the mimic, who cocks their head in return. If this robot could turn violent at a dime, what is Fazbear Ent going to do with technology like that?
"N-no." Arnold sighs. After a second the very thing he feared most plays through the shitty speakers in his van.
"Well I'm sorry, but we're going to have to let you go. What did you expect? Our layers will contact you." Dispatch says through the tinny microphone, before cutting out. Arnold once again slams his head down on the steering wheel in front of him.
After a minute or two the mimic pipes up. "Where's my mama?" It says, looking out the window to where the MCM building stands, tall and ominous. The man thinks back to the computer buried deep beneath that same building. She trusted him to find Edwin, to fix her child. Yea she also trapped him in MCM and told him he was going to die, but what else was he supposed to do, let this killer robot loose again?
"Your mom is...she's sick right now. But she asked me to watch you, okay?" Arnold says turning to face the kid. The kid robot eyes roam Arnolds face for a second, seemingly searching something, before looking at the tiger sitting in his lap. He gives the tiger a hug before hunkering down in the passengers seat. "Oh... okay."
"Listen, kid-"
"David, my name is David." The kid is smiling up at Arnold, in that weird way only he can, with too many teeth and too wide eyes. Arnold however, is trying not to show on his face that his stomach just sunk to his ass. He grabs his keys and puts them in the ignition, starting the van. Staring straight ahead, trying not to make eye contact with the child, Arnold pulls out of the MCM parking lot like a bat out of hell, tires screeching the whole way. Arnold can barely keep his eyes open, but he can't stop yet. He needs to get himself and the kid somewhere safe first.
"Guess I need another job."