The JereMike Collection

( Note: This one-shot is linked with the previous chapter. )

The taste had become a lot more evident, seeping in his spit and making his throat go dry. It stuck to the skin of his teeth and every time he breathed it was like it took a form of scent, filling his lungs and sending an indescribable sensation ramming into his chest. His tongue had become addicted to it like a drug, wiggling behind his lips with a pang of wanting, agony...withdrawal.

The taste was such a distraction that Mike didn't even notice that half of his face was dripping with blood.

Jeremy, red still visible on his cheeks, shut the drawers with a slam. He flinched at his own action, half surprised to see himself act so harshly. Swallowing, he swiveled his chair around to face his partner, whom had been staring at him with intense thought for the last half hour.

The night watch gave a shaky sigh. "C-can you wrap it yourself? Or do...do you need help...?"

It took the security guard a moment to recollect himself and register the sentence. He glanced down at his hands; although a little dried, blood still painted his hands, covering most of his palm and digits, the liquid settling in his fingerprints like artwork. Much alike the stains on the side of Jeremy's cheeks-

Mike shook his head, erasing the thought from his mind. He could probably work the tablet, maybe the lights. But any attempt to bandage himself in his state would either tear the wound even more, or just leave it infected. He didn't trust his hands enough to bring them around the stitches, not with how hard they were shaking.

Jeremy caught onto the notion, looking down. "U-uh...ok..." He took the tablet, giving it a quick look through before plopping in the other's lap. "Y-you um...just watch the cameras..." Jeremy leaned to the sides, checking both vents and giving the hallway a flash before returning to the task at hand.

Mike dully nodded, tapping on the screen with a single, untainted finger as Jeremy worked to unroll a new adhesive.

It was silent, nothing but the soft buzz of the overhead light above them to give anything to hear. Without conversation, the mind could focus only on other senses; the sights of low lights casting shadows on their faces, crimson losing it's gloss as it dried. The smell of it, copper and metallic as they inhaled. The feeling of tension in the air, thick enough you'd think you could physically tear through it.

The taste that lingered on Mike's tongue and on the corner's of Jeremy's mouth.

The security guard coughed to break the awkward silence. "So, um..." He kept his eyes tilted down at the screen. "How...how long was I out?"

Jeremy shrugged, tearing the last piece of wrapping from the roll. "N-not long, really" Long enough to do some damage to the animatronics...and to him. "Face me" He mumbled. Mike gave the left vent a flash before swirling his chair to face the night watch. The motion sent a pang of ache pulsing through his forehead.

Mike grit his teeth, faking a tiny smile. "This is just like when you started your first shift, you know?" He pondered on the memory, sneaking a glance at the night watch. Jeremy didn't notice, already leaning over the security guard and wiping the blood from his skin. "...I guess that means I gotta be more careful with my head...hehe" Mike's sentence faded into a gust of nervous laughter, trying to ignore how short the distance between the two of them were.

Jeremy, after a moment, gave a slight nod. "y-yeah..." Once the scars were clean, he began to wound the first layer of the bandages. He was careful, mindful of the security guards ears as the wrapping wove around his cranium. He strung it tight enough to hold place, but loose enough to prevent anymore irritation to the wound.