To say that Mike Schmidt hated his job was an understatement.
He absolutely loathed it, despised it, dreaded coming into work every morning in fear that the night
hadn't of gone by as he had hoped, and there was another body to bury. Another family to lie to. Another name tag for the locker.
During his time as night watch he remembers bolting out the front doors that fifth night, vowing to never set foot in that damned restaurant again or so help him him; he'd burn it to the ground.
But then the bills came, and the landlord bumped up his rent. His fridge was looking empty and his lights started to flicker. His furniture was worn and he had the worst plumbing in the city. But it's better than being homeless, he would tell himself.
$120 per week was not enough to live comfortably, but it was enough to live.
His problems became a little easier when his promotion came around. Not only was he safe from murderous animatronics, but the raise wasn't anything to scoff at either. No matter how small it was, it helped.
Being a security guard was...different. Instead of murderous animatronics, he now had to worry about snotty, screaming kids. Remembering which child belonged to which parent, keeping the bolder ones from climbing on stage, and occasionally rescuing that same kid from the small ball pit they had added in the corner.
He glanced up at animatronics every so often and wonder how in hell they could stand this everyday. Once, the new Freddy turned his head, making eye contact. Mike's heart skip a beat. Then the bear would start singing again, and Mike remembers they're locked strictly in Daytime Mode. He'd let a smile run across his face, not a smug grin or smirk, but an actual smile. He was relaxed.
Until he spotted someone staring thoughtfully at the 'Help Wanted' sign posted in the window.
He couldn't of been older than a high schooler, or a fresh graduate. Messy hair, over-sized sweater and an innocent gleam in his eyes. He stared at the sign for a moment before a giving a small smile. With confindence, the teen stepped through the front doors, looking around. Mike grit his teeth.
This kid wouldn't last an hour at Fazbear's.
The Manager spotted him immediately. He clearly wasn't a booger-faced kid or a mother with a headache, but an opportunity. A possible future Fazbear employee. Or as Mike liked to call it: Fresh Meat.
They were stationed too far away for him to eaves drop, but it was clear what was being discussed. The teen smiled, pointing back towards the windowed sign while the Manager nodded. Yeah, definitely talking about the night watch position.
Mike wanted to intervene, really he did. He was the first to survive the night watch, and he knows first hand what kind of nightmares those six hours in the office could produce. If the animatronics didn't stuff him, the nightmares would ruin him.
There were two before this, hired just after he had received his promotion. The first one didn't last but two nights, and the second one was still 'missing'. As far as the families knew, the first had suffered a heart attack late that second night, and the other ran away to avoid debt.
But the newly placed name tags hidden in Mike's locker tell a different story.
He didn't want to continue his collection.
There was a small tug on his sleeve, breaking him from his thoughts. A little boy, with pizza still stuck to the edges of his mouth, whined something about using the bathroom. The security guard's face remained stoic while he pointed off in the other direction. The brat ran off screaming. He rolled his eyes. Now was not the time to question parenting tatics, he had a disaster to prevent after all.
Keeping his eye on the kid, he swiveled around back to face the front. He felt someone bump into his side, stumbling back with a small 'oaf'. Mike took a step back, ready to apologize before freezing.
"H-Hi, um. I'm Jeremy. I'm supposed to be the night watch."
Fuck.
"The, uh, manager told me to come talk to you." He spoke, his eyes darting from the the floor back up to the older man. "He said, that um, y-you had experience in that posi-"
"Get lost"
'Jeremy' cut short, blinking at the command. "W-what? Why?" He asked. Mike snarled. "We don't need help, so beat it." The teen met Mike's glare with wide eyes. "B-but I've already been hired! The manager-"
"The manager's a fucking cheapsake" Not to mention he hides murders, but he didn't need to know that yet. "The hours are shit and the pay is even shittier." Out of the corner of his eye, Mike saw a few parents cover their kids ears, glaring at him in disapproval and ushering their children away. Might have been a bit too loud there.
"Listen, I-" Turning back to the teen, Mike noticed how fidgety he was. "I really need this job...Y-you won't even see me after today." The security guard bit his lip. That's what I'm afraid of.
"Do your parent's know about this?" Mike asked harshly, rubbing his temples. A headache was just around the corner, he was sure of it.
Jeremy stiffened at the question,and for a moment Mike thought he touched a nerve there. Then half a second passed and he smiled. "Yes, they do." Mike raised a brow. Yeah, he wasn't buying it. "If you need spending money badly, work at McDonald, punk."
"Please, I just-"
"I said fuck off. Your not wanted here. You'd probably fuck up anyway." I'm trying to help you.
The look that washed over Jeremy's face was a even mixture of hurt and desperation. Mike swallowed. He hated when this happened. He always felt like an asshole, the king of douchbaggerey.
But it was necessary.
Jeremy looked down at the floor. Looking past him, Mike glanced at the clock.His shift would be over soon. Meaning he didn't have much longer to run Jeremy off the lot.
"Look," He began, taking on a much softer tone. "You really don't want to work here-"
He cut short when something landed on his shoulder. Startled, Mike glanced down at the aged hand before looking up to see it's owner. The manager gave a crooked smile.
"Almost quittin' time. You show Jeremy here how to do his job yet?" His smile faulted ever so slightly. "Or are we just going to throw him to the wolves?" He gave a throaty chuckle.
Normally, comments like that mean nothing. But this was Fazbear's, and Mike knew immediately what the manager meant. His eyes flicked to Jeremy. Still upset looking, but so far unaware of the danger. Mike didn't have much longer.
"No, not yet." he answered with a dim expression. "Are you sure we should start him off right away? A full day would-" A child's whine broke through his sentence and the three turned to look at the entrance.
A bunch of families piling up, ready to leave. Impatient parents and wailing kids waiting at the empty cash register. The manager groaned. "Look, I have to go handle that." He gestured towards the crowd. "We can't afford to go another night without a watchman. He's starting tonight, Mikey" And with that, he was off, patting Jeremy encouragingly on the back.
The security guard missed how the younger male winced at the contact, instead caught himself burning holes into the back of the manager's head. A good actor he was, pretending to be a supporting boss, when really he might as well of been an executioner.
"M-Mikey"
Distracted, Mike looked down at the shorter male. "How do you know my name?" Jeremy blinked. "That's what the Manager called you-" Mike cut him off, pointing to his own nametag. "It's Schmidt, Mr.Schmidt. Understand? ." He paused, realizing how aggressive he was sounded. And that his name tag didn't even have his last name on it.
Jeremy nodded sheepishly, hands curled up in the sleeves of his sweater. For a split second, he looked like he was about to bawl in tears. But only for a moment, then it was gone, replaced by something new.
"Listen, Mr.Schmidt" Strange, even when his voice cracked, he sounded pretty confident. "I-I know I seem like a irresponsible kid, and that I'll goof off but..." He trailed off. "I really need this job."
Mike wanted to puke.
No, not because the determination of this kid was oh-so-sickening. But because for a half a moment, an image of Jeremy's limp body laying in the shell of a suit, stashed away in the backroom for him to find the next morning appeared in his head. Now that was truly sickening.
Before he could open his mouth to retort, his watch beeped. It was 10PM.
His shift was over. Fazbear's was closing, and with it any chance of Jeremy escaping. Even if by 'escape' meant Mike running him out of the building.
A moment of silence, broken by the sound of jingling keys and a register closing. Mike barley jumped out of his thoughts to catch an incoming projectile: Keys. "I gotta get home to the wife" The manager yelled from across the room. Jeremy glanced around, and Mike followed his gaze. How did the room empty so quickly?
"Lock up for me, alright?" He pulled out a cigarette. "Alright, you boys have a good night now" He reached for the glass door and disappeared into the night. Somewhere in the quiet, Mike heard a car start and pull out of the parking lot.
A wave of defeat washed over him as he turned back to Jeremy, who looked up at him expectantly. He had failed, and now this innocent kid had to spend a night at Freddy's.
And he had less than two hours to teach him how to survive.
Hey, there's that headache he was expecting.
Mike groaned, clutching his head and gritting his teeth. Jeremy, feeling a little awkward just standing there, scanned the room. The stage still had the animatonics on, but their instruments were put away and they stood still in a happy pose. Didn't the manager mention that they moved at night?
Suddenly, Jeremy was walking. Ok, more like being dragged. By whom? Well, by none other than the same man who had tried to get him to leave for the past hour or so.
He glanced down at the hand around his wrist. It was bandaged, and a quick look confirmed that the other was as well. What did he do? Cut his hands slicing the pizza?
Distracted by the bandages, he missed how three pairs of eyes followed their every movement. "M-Mr-Schmidt, where are we going?"
The lace of fear in his voice only made Mike want to walk faster. "We're getting you ready." He answered, coming up to a steel door, 'employee's only' sign in red nailed on it. Probably the only door in the building. Letting go of Jeremy's wrist, he flipped thought the keys, unlocking the door, ushered the younger male inside and shutting it firmly behind him.
10:20
Jeremy stuttered at the aggressive action. He watched as the older man gave an irritated sigh before rushing to the other side of the room. Looking around, the room was relatively small, with a few lockers on the walls. Mike opened up one of them, which happen to be entirely clothes and fumbled through them.
He snarled in irritation, pausing for a moment. Jeremy blinked as the man observed him closely, scanning him up and down until he was satisfied. The teen fidgeted nervously and Mike returned to his searching. "What are y-you doing?" Jeremy asked.
The security only mumbled something his breath, barely audible. Jeremy tilted his head, confused. Something about a...mask?
A blue button-up shirt flew into Jeremy's face, followed by a pair of black slacks. "I guessed your size, we'll worry about it tomorrow." Mike pointed towards an another door. "Get dressed. Now."
Jeremy didn't need to be told twice. Closing the bathroom door behind him, he undressed quickly. The tone in Mr.Schmidt's voice sounded urgent, like they were on a time limit or something.
Mike waited for what seemed an hour before Jeremy stepped out of the stall. The slacks fit, surprisingly. But the shirt was maybe a size big, draping slighlty over his body much like his discarded sweater had. His sneaker's wearn't what the dress code required either, but for tonight, he was an exception.
Mike nodded. His selection wasn't too far off, he'd give himself credit for that. "Here" He held out a what looked like a strap on Freddy mask. Jeremy took it, measuring it in his hands. It was big enough to cover his entire face, and light enough where he could set it on top of his head should he need to.
"What did you guys talk about earlier?" Mike asked, opening what Jeremy assumed to be his own locker. Curiosity got the best of him, and peered from a distance over the man's shoulder. Typical stuff: clothes, a pair of shoes, a bag, a wadded up newspaper and...nametags?
Mike pulled the tablet from underneath his sweatshirt. He checked the charge. Good enough. He turned around, holding it up for Jeremy to see. "Know how to use one of these?" He received a quick nod. "Good" He held it out for him.
Jeremy took it with caution. The tablet felt heavy in his hands, and he wasn't sure wether it was because the technology was so outdated, or if it was his own nervousness getting to him.
"You didn't answer my question"
He broke from his thoughts. "We just-" He paused to think for a moment. "I-I asked him about the position, and he hired me on the spot" Mike rolled his eyes. Of course he would. "Ok, did he tell you anything about what it was about?" He questioned, looking down at his watch.
10:40
"Y-yeah, he said that the animatronics don't have a proper night mode or something, so they, um, think in the wrong room when i-its quiet and they-"
"Look for the room with people in it, yeah. Anything else?"
Jeremy shrugged, and Mike made note to file a complaint for a new manager the next morning.
Sighing, he pulled a flashlight out a nearby desk. "This has only so much power for the entire night, your going to have to make it last." The teen raised a brow. "Why?" He was shushed. "Good question. Follow me."
He was out the door before Jeremy could react, whom quickly scampered after. As they passed through the rooms,lights flickered off behind them. Somewhere in the dark, Jeremy could of sworn he heard a radio.
"Mr. Schmidt, I have a question-"
"What?"
"...Why are you so against me working here?" The question lingered in the air before Mike took a deep breath. "You're going to think I'm insane." Might be a little too late for that, buddy.
They came into what Jeremy assumed was the office. Nothing special. A desk with some clutter on it, a bookshelf next to that, and a few folding chairs sat against the walls. There were also two vents on either side of the room with button above them. Wonder what they did...
"I thought you said you wouldn't goof off."
Retracting his hand from the switch with lighting speed, Jeremy waved an apology. "S-sorry." He shrank under the weight of the older man's glare. MIke turned away. "Don't sweat it." He opened two chairs up, sitting them next to each other.
Mike sat down and looked at Jeremy expectantly. The new night watch blinked. "Explanation time?"
The corners of Mike's mouth twitched. "Yeah, explanation time." He chuckled.
Jeremy sat down. The chair was comfy enough, though he wondered if he would feel otherwise after six hours in it. "Ok, you have twelve cameras to watch, and around 11 or so animatronics to watch-"
"E-eleven?!" Jeremy stuttered. "I thought there were less than that..." Mike shook his head. Oh, how he wished there were less. He wouldn't of minded if the old animatronics were scrapped completely. "The company believe in recycling, there's some old robots that they use for spare parts."
Jeremy only got more confused. "But if they're scrapped, then why do they roam-"
"Fuck, I don't know, kid." His co-worker snapped. "All I know is that you have to keep every single one of them away from you, got it?"
Still a little shaken from being interrupted so harshly, the teen tilted his head. "Why's that?"
Fuck, this kid knew absolutely nothing, did he? Mike rubbed his tired eyes. He really wanted to go home early tonight. Skip dinner and shower, just hop into bed and get a good night's rest for once. Not like he couldn't stay awake, just that he was a lot less tolerable when he was exhausted.
"Ready for the insane part?" He asked, silence his answer, as he expected. "They're going to try and kill you"
11:00
He waited for the realization, for the panic to seep in and for the newbie to start freaking out. Not the first time it had happened, and that was with a full grown man, not a little dweeb this this.
But instead, Jeremy giggled. "Hehe...that's uh, pretty funny"
Nervous laughter mixed with actual amusement. Did this kid think he was fucking around?
Mike was about to blast some snarky remark, but glanced down at his watch instead. Past eleven. He grit his teeth. A bad habit, but he wasn't worried about it at the moment.
Jeremy was in for a hell of a night after he left.
The security guard glanced at the phone sitting innocently on the desk, and thought back to his first week at Freddy's.
He didn't have anyone holding his hand, walking him through step by step. No, he was thrown in the pit, with nothing but prerecorded messages to shine some light on things. But the things those lights revealed, he'd wish he had never saw.
The only way this kid was going to learn how to survive is if he learned on his own, just like he had.
Fuck this. He was just too tired.
Standing up, he walked over to the desk, punching a few buttons. "This...guy that used to work here left some prerecorded messages on this thing, should tell you everthing you need to know."
"...your going home, Mr.Schmidt?"
Mike sighed, sparing a sad glance back to Jeremy. Maybe he if had been a complete douchbag earlier, he would of quit. Maybe, if only he had tried harder.
"Yeah" He ran a tired hand over his hand, under his hat. Scar marks brushed against his palm and restrained the urge to scratch them. Another bad habit. "Just...rememeber these rules, ok?"
"O-ok?-"
"Don't leave the office." He folded his chair and sat it against the wall in it's place. If one of them get in here, wear the mask until it leaves." Lazily, he loosened his tie. "Conserve your flashlight battery, and for the love of fuck," Mike froze, authority heavy in his voice. "Don't let fuckboy in here."
Jeremy sat still, doing his best to soak in the information quickly. "T-the, um, w-what boy?" He questioned, unsure to whom exactly the security guard was referring to. He was given a dreadful look. "Balloon kid"
Mike pressed, or really, slammed the play button.
"Hello? Hello hello! Uh, hello and welcome to your new summer job at the new and improved Freddy Fazbear's Pizza! Uh, I'm here to talk you through some of the things you can expect to see during your first week here and to help you get started down this new and exciting career path..."
"Well," Mike checked his watch. 11:15. "Good luck kid, your really going to need it."
Jeremy gave a small smile. "Uh, t-thank you, Mr. Schmidt! G-good night!" He waved as the security walked down the hall, the last of the lights flickering off as he disappeared.
Jeremy's smile vanished. He was completely and utterly alone.
He fiddled with the tablet a little, switching from camera to camera until he came upon a screen with an extra button. "Music box?" He pondered to himself. Why did the tablet access to a remote controlled music box? It musn't have been important if Mike forgot to mention it.
"...They've spent a small fortune on these new animatronics, uh, facial recognition, advanced mobility, they even let them walk around during the day. Isn't that neat? Ahem, But most importantly, they're all tied into some kind of criminal database, so they can detect a predator a mile away. Heck, we should be paying them to guard you!"
Jeremy closed his eyes and rest his head on the desk. Honestly, he didn't expect get hired right away, or even at all. Not to mention that being alone from midnight til six in the morning wasn't an exactly healthy thought to mind. His entire schedule would have to change, and his body was going to hate him for it.
Well, there were worse things, he guessed.
"...a music box over by the Prize Counter, and it's rigged to be wound up remotely. So just, every once in a while, switch over to the Prize Counter video feed and wind it up for a few seconds. It doesn't seem to affect all of the animatronics, but it does affect... one of them..."
With half lidded eyes, Jeremy brought the tablet up, switching to the proper camera. It wasn't midnight yet, still had a good twenty minutes until then. But something told Jeremy, wether it be a gut feeling or a fleeing paranoia, that he needed to keep that music box playing.
The sound of the phone overlapped the sound of someone in the vents.
"...robots seeing you as an endoskeleton without his costume on, and wanting to stuff you in a suit, so hey, we've given you an empty Freddy Fazbear head, problem solved! You can put it on anytime, and leave it on for as long as you want. Eventually anything that wandered in, will wander back out..."
Jeremy patted the mask atop his head. So, that's what the mask was for. Not really an entire Freddy head, but it looked enough like it. Curiously, he pulled it down over his face. Jeremy squinted through the peeping holes. The mask obstructed most of his vision, and the dim lighting of this place wasn't helping
"...Well, I think that's it. Uh, you should be golden. Uh, check the lights, put on the Freddy head if you need to, uh, keep the music box wound up, piece of cake. Have a good night, and I'll talk to you tomorrow."
The phone went quiet, and with the voice gone only now did Jeremy notice the deafening silence he was surrounded by.
12:00
Jeremy flipped through the cameras. Everyone's in place. The music box was charged. The...creepy faceless rabbit was still in place. But, nothing to worry about, right? As long as he kept the music box charged and the animatronics out of the office, what could go wrong?
Mike must have been exaggerating-
Wait, the bunny was missing.
Huh, well, he was already told about them wandering around, and as long as he's not in the office, it didn't matter, right?
Sighing, Jeremy put the tablet down, fiddling with his shirt buttons. He had done them incorrectly, and Mike had been too rushed to notice. Funny, why would he be in such a hurry for something then to just get up and leave?
Picked up the tablet, charged the music box, glanced around a bit, put it back down. Jeremy flicked the flashlight once, twice. Nothing. Back to buttons.
His buttons were fixed, and he was bored again. He glanced around the office. Kid's drawings and a few newspaper clippings were posted on the wall. He smiled, spotting a particularly one sporting a little girl and a...puppet? He put his head down, closing his eyes.
Jeremy had never been to Freddy Fazbear's as a little kid, never had the oppurtunity. His mother was always...preoccupied and his dad usually ignored the both of them. Not that he had minded really. He was perfectly content with sitting in his room, quietly minding his business. It wasn't until he was six did things begin to 'escalate'.
The sound of metal on metal.
Jeremy raised his head, blinked his sleepy eyes and turned to the right vent. He raised a brow, leaning over to reach the light. He was to drowsy for that sense of fear to kick in, but the bright green iris staring up at him woke him up.
"W-WHA-" He flung himself back enough that the chair went with him. Tablet left abandoned on the desk, flashlight in hand, Jeremy watched in horror as BonBon crawled out from the vent.
His breathed quickened, and scooted as far back as he could manage. His back hit the wall, the thud enough to make the Freddy Mask fall into place. The Mask!
Although it covered his terrified, very human, expression, it couldn't mask the hyperventilation coming from the boy. BonBon stared down at the figure, each frozen in place and unsure of what to do.
Green eyes blinked, scanning, re-scanning, running results through database. Nothing. But it couldn't have been an animatronic. No, this one could breath. Robots don't breath, and they especially don't whimper. Interesting.
Jeremy's heartbeat was through the roof and his lungs had long given up him, letting a feeling of nauseating fear pumped through him. This was it, this was the end. He should have listened to Mike, should have to the phone, should of stayed home and accepted what was to come when he did.
The mask fell away ever so slightly, and BonBon's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.
The mask was harshly ripped away, tossed aside and forgotten. Now, there was nothing between him and the fate of being...what did they say it was...? Being stuff in a suit?
BonBon opened it's mouth and screamed, but Jeremy was already deaf. He couldn't hear anything, but he could clearly see the endoskeleton tucked away in the shell the bunny. Oh, god. He was going to be a gorey mess of framework and wires all stuck together by the end of the night, wasn't he?
Squeezing his eyes shut tight, He threw his last, feeble attempt at self defense. There was a loud bang as the flashlight made contact with BonBon's forehead, bouncing off and landing on the ground somewhere.
The animatronic froze for a moment, and at first Jeremy thought it had worked. Only when he wiped a teary eye did he realize that BonBon had lunged at him, it's teeth latched firmly around Jeremy's arm.
There was numbness, then a sudden wave of pain as he was yanked forward, first slamming into the bookshelf before being thrown across the desk.
Everything hurt, his arm, his head, his ears, everything. Curled up on the floor, eyes shut tight and with his hearing slowly coming back to him, he waited for it. Anything, something. But all he heard were footsteps.
Although, it sounded much too light to be an animatronics.
The hovering shadow over him suddenly disappeared. Jeremy was about to about his eyes once more, but voted against it when another screech broke through the air. This time, it was cut short, like it had been caught off guard by something.
Metal clanging, a voice yelling, something being thrown, something fleeing through the vents. Silence.
Was he dead?
"I-I'm so sorry, Mom...I'm so sorry"
"...Why? Didn't clean your room or something?"
Mike raised a brow, watching closely as the cowering teen uncovered his eyes. "Told ya you'd fuck up" He snickered, crouching down next to Jeremy.
The younger male stared in shock, a lump in his throat. Even through still free flowing tears, he could see that his co-worker wasn't without injury. "M-m-Mr. S-Schmidt..." He stuttered, voice cracking on every syllable. "I-I thought-" Mike shushed him, frowning at the reddness on the nightwatch's arm. BonBon didn't draw blood, but he certainly left a mark. A large forming bruise on Jeremy's forearm, in the shape of buck teeth.
Thank god it wasn't Foxy or Mangle, and a more 'family friendly' animatronic. If Jeremy had been bitten by either of them, he could of had his arm ripped off. The thought of the canine's teeth was replaced with the annoyance of his head itching once again.
"Hey, uh, go sit down for a minute." He offered Jeremy a hand, pulling him up with a grunt. Snatching the tablet, he charged the music box and checked the cameras. Fred still on stage, Chica in dining area and BonBon no where to be found. Proabably off in some dark corner nursing his hurt pride.
Giving a sigh of relief, Mike put down the tablet, flicked the lights, turned the chair upright and unfolded the same extra one from earlier. He checked his watch
1:00
"Mr. Schmidt, I-!" Mike turned around with a disapproving glare, and pointed to the seat. Jeremy, who was really not in a state to disobey, did so. The security guard sat across from him, rummaging through desk drawers before pulling out something small and white. A little box, with a red cross over it.
The flashlight set neatly next to the tablet, not ten feet away where Jeremy had thrown it. Mike eyed the torn fabric of the sleeve, before rolling his eyes and dumping out nearly all the box's contents on the desk. "Let me see your arm" He opened a wrapping bandage. "And check the cameras with your other one."
Jeremy did as he was told, keeping his eyes on the screen, wincing when he felt something cold sting his swollen skin. BonBon was back on stage, somehow managing to make a angry, hurt look despite his plastic features.
Mike sanitized the mark first, checked the lights, then finished wrapping the gauze. He sat back, admiring his handiwork. "It'll take around a week to heal, I guess. Keep it clean." He was about to pack the kit up, until hand reached forward, preventing him from closing the box.
"M-Mr. Schmidt, your-"
"It's Mike," The security guard sighed, running hand over his temple. Damn, that headache was still here.
"M-Mike, your head is..." Jeremy hiccuped. "B-bleeding."
Mike froze, bringing his hand down to face, only to see crimson red liquid stain his fingertips. Shit, kid must think I'm Frankenstein.
"Yeah, uh, it happens sometimes."
He figured the kid had already been freaked out enough tonight, a little blood wouldn't hurt. He took his beanie off, setting it on the desk and worked on opening another pack of bandages. "Check those cameras"
Jeremy, unable to tear his attention away from the bleeding scars, caught himself staring. He quickly flipped through the cameras, charging the music box, and rechecked each room and vent, anything to keep from looking up again.
The room was quiet and Jeremy's cheeks weren't even dry yet.
"Sorry, about my head..." Mike whispered, though Jeremy heard it, couldn't bring himself to look up. Instead, he noted how Mike had changed clothes. He was in a diffrent attire, instead of uniform it was dark colored jeans, a simple sweatshirt, and a beanie to match.
"I thought you had left" Jeremy stammered. Mike wet toweled the blood until the rag was soaked. "Yeah, I did." He began to wrap the gauze around carelessly. The bandage was was covering more of his forehead than the actual scars, slipping out place and settling loosely around the guards neck.
Mike grunted in agitation. Hesitating, Jeremy held out the tablet, setting it in Mike's lap while reaching for the gauze. "Let me do it. I can help." Mike eyed the boy, surprised by the sudden offer. "You sure? You know how to wrap it properly?"
"Yes" He's had plenty of practice, really. Mike let the bandages fall into the smaller palms, working the cameras while the other's hands went to work. He could feel the bandages securely tuck into place. "I'm surprised you haven't asked me about the blue bunny yet"
Jeremy shuddered at the thought of the animatronic. Those lifeless green eyes were doomed to give him nightmares, no doubt. "Y-yeah, I uh, was wondering..." Trailing off, his mind entered an entire library of questions. Why did it attack him? Was it coming back? Why did Mike come back?
Flickering lights broke his concentration. Mike glared intensely down the dark hallway, flipping on the flashlight repeatedly. Following his gaze, Jeremy's breath hitched. Far off in the darkness was Fred, staring dully at the two.
Mike snarled. "Beat it, Teddy"
Another flash or two, and the bear was gone. Mike set the flashlight aside, satisfied, returning to the tablet to wind the music box.
Jeremy's heartbeat was slowing down to it's regular pace. He swallowed. "M-Mr.Schmidt" He began "Mike" The older male reminded "Uh...Mike, um,Why did you come back?"
It went quiet, only the distance sound of static reached their ears. Then, Mike fumbled with his pockets for a moment, before pulling out something small and rectangular. "I forgot to give you your name tag"
The night watch, who had just tucked the last of the bandage in place, stared timidly at the gift. Mike reached forward, pinning the tag in it's proper place on his shirt. He dismissed how the smaller male squirmed at the contact. "We'll get you another shirt tomorrow. But this will have to do for tonight" Good thing the ruined clothing was a size too big, Fazbear's was running out of proper uniform inventory.
Glancing down at the tag, Jeremy admired how neatly written his name was. "T-thanks." Mike nodded, grabbing his beanie and making sure his newly wrapped scars were hidden, tossed the flashlight to him. "Yeah, you too."
Mike leaned back, bringing his feet up and resting them on the desk. Check cameras. Mangle in the prize corner. Chica in the party room. Music box charged. BonBon flipping the camera off. Nothing to worry about yet.
Jeremy baffled at the action. As if to answer his impending question, Mike turned to him. "I'm staying with you tonight. I'll handle the cameras, and you take the lights." He ordered, nodding down at the flashlight. "Think you can handle that?"
Lost for words, Jeremy only nodded. He went to work, flipping the vent's lights and shining down the corridor.
He didn't like feeling this helpless, but a memory of screeching and teeth flew in his mind and decided that maybe it was for the best. That sickening feeling of being alone and scared he had felt a few minutes ago was replaced by something new. He felt safe, despite the circumstances.
"Listen, I'm sorry about how I acted earlier" Mike mumbled, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "This job is dangerous, we lose people here..." Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Jeremy shiver. The security guard bit his lip. "You can quit after tonight, nothing's stopping you..." BB in the vents, Mike frowned.
"I mean, you'll have to sign something stating you won't sue the restaurant, agree not to mention anything that happened at night, deny any rumors-"
"I'll stay, Mike"
Surprised, Mike looked up from the screen. Although he was staring down the hallway, Jeremy knew exactly what look he was being given. "I-I really need this job, I can't afford not to" He murmured. "I need the money, it's for something important"
Mike's brows furrowed. "Important enough to risk your life every night?"
Jeremy gave a slight smile. "Yes"
Check the cameras. Flip the lights. Check the time: 2:00
Mike sighed. There was just no talking him out of it, was there? He had hoped that the near-death experience would of knocked some sense into him. What ever this 'importance' was, it had to be something dear to him. Or someone.
"Well," Mike scooted the chair closer to Jeremy, holding the tablet out in front of the both of them for him to see. "If your going to work here, I suppose your going to have to learn the ropes" He yawned. Double-shift with only one pay. Not good for his mental state. His body ached from the lack of sleep to boot.
"Y-you're going to teach me?" The night watch asked, leaning over to press the right vent's light switch. He heard something skitter away. "Yep," Mike answered simply.
There was frog in Jeremy's throat. The thought of him being here alone, with now proven to be murderous animatronics terrified him. What did the phone guy say? Right, they were going to stuff him in a suit. He imagined his body, crushed skull and mutilated limbs tightly confined in the shell of an animatronic.
A bit of bile rose in his mouth and he shook the thought away. It was replaced by a much happier one. His mother, to be exact.
Mike sensed his distress, observing the teen. He'd probably quit by the end of the week. Monday's usually are pretty calm, but even so, he was almost killed in the first hours of the night. He'd hate to imagine what dangers he'd face throughout the week. "Last chance. We make it through tonight and you'll never have to set foot in this place again. I can tell the boss you flaked..."
Jeremy shook his head. "No, I can do this" Or at least he hoped he could.
Mike hesitated. "Ok, then." He sighed. "Let's get you ready for Freddy"