Chapter Text
Michael dropped the newspaper and backed away from the table, as if putting distance between himself and the news would make its contents less potent.
Most people quit before anything happened to them. Most people quit after the first night, sometimes the second night if they were curious enough to see if they were just too drunk the first time.
But who stayed for all 5 nights before pay day? Was this kid that desperate?
He paced around his small kitchen. This was his fault. This was his fault. He was the only one who knew the truth about these animatronics. He was the only one who could undo all of this. He was doing his best, crossing the country, moving from location to location to free the souls of the children his father had killed.
He always knew there would be people he couldn’t save. Heck, right now there could be some other poor kid getting his face shoved into a Freddy Fazbear Suit. He shuddered at the thought, remembering all his own close calls.
His eyes flitted to the kitchen clock and he realized with a start that he would be late for his interview. Although, knowing Fazbear Entertainment, it wasn't likely to be much of an interview. He didn't even have to worry about background checks.
That made it all the more easier to be Fritz Smith, a high school dropout who liked dog parks and sweater vests. He'd even gotten his hands on some fake prescription glasses to take extra care to ensure he wouldn't get recognized. There was probably no need for the extra measures and tailored backstory, but Michael had figured he'd have some fun with it. He no longer felt it appropriate.
..................
"Well that's just about all the questions I have for you Mister…Schmidt."
"Uh, it's Smith."
"Oh, huh." the guy squinted at the paper and Michael wondered for a horrifying moment if he'd given the wrong one.
"Ah, yep, sorry 'bout that. Still a little shaken up about what happened to poor Jeremy, ya know?"
"Jeremy," Michael repeated, signing the last form, "was that the kid who…" Unable to find euphemistic wording, Michael pointed to his head and the guy nodded.
"So you heard about that? Yeah, not surprised. I'm honestly just glad the kid's still alive, he was a sweet guy. Ya know, I think the only reason that kid stuck with the job was so we wouldn't move anyone else to his shift. Crazy little freak…"
Michael was stuck on the man's previous words. "He's still alive?!"
The man sat up and scooted his chair close to Michael, propping his elbows on the desk and leaning forward.
"He woke up this morning, talking and walking and eating, as if nothin' happened! Do think he'll be likely to have seizures though or somethin', surely, what with half his brain being gone and all."
"Half of his-" Michael couldn’t finish. He swallowed hard and resisted the urge to clamp his hands protectively around his skull.
The man's eyes suddenly grew wide. "Not- not that his injuries were due to anything about the nature of his position though! It was a freak accident, nothing to do with the night guard position, nothing at all, why would you think that? It had nothing to do with us, just a freak accident that's all that was-"
The man was getting out of breath from talking too fast, his face growing red and his brow folding over beads of sweat.
"Um, I know, I know."
Know that that's complete and utter bull crap.
The man visibly relaxed, leaning back in his chair and scooting away from the desk.
"I haven't changed my mind about wanting the job," Michael continued, "If that's what you're worried about…"
The man cleared his throat. "Well… I wouldn't want you to…get swept up in all that…superstitious stuff, ya know?"
"Of course not."
..................
This had to be one of the dumbest decisions Michael Afton had ever made. And boy was that saying something.
He chewed his gum vigorously, though this time it did nothing to calm his nerves. He spit it out into the nearby trashcan when the nurse walked out of the swinging door to his right.
"Mr. Fitzgerald will see you now."
He stood, almost dropping the cheap bouquet he'd had resting on his lap. He felt ashamed of his pitiful attempt at well wishes, but it was the best he could do with how little time he gave himself to think this decision over before he could change his mind.
He followed the nurse down a neat hallway, it's clean, cream walls broken up by the occasional abstract painting. The nurse stopped to the right of an open door and gestured with his head.
"As I said before, he's been having trouble remembering some people. So don't… don't push him okay?"
"Don't worry, I won't." The words left a bitter taste in Michael's mouth. He still wasn't entirely sure what he came here to do, but he was certain of one thing: Jeremy probably wouldn't appreciate it.
He crossed the threshold quickly, mustering up everything he had in him to keep his back straight and demeanor relaxed.
"Jeremy," the nurse said from behind Michael, "This is Fritz Smith, he's- well, I'll let him introduce himself."
The nurse nodded towards him and Michael cleared his throat, holding the flowers out to the teen in the hospital bed.
"Hey Jeremy. Uh it's me, Fritz, your cousin. We uh… basically grew up together?"
Jeremy just stared blankly at him, not even breaking eye contact when he reached out and accepted the wilting gift.
"I wanted to see you earlier but... I had an interview at Freddy's. Got the new night guard position there. The hours'll be killer but... you already knew that." Michael hoped his message was getting across with his eyes. The nurse wouldn't leave unless Jeremy "recognized" him, but what could he possibly expect? Feeling a little at a loss Michael was about to drop the whole thing when Jeremy's face lit up with a smile.
"Fritz! Yeah, of course I remember you, so good to see you man!"
Michael tried to mirror Jeremy's enthusiasm, perking up his shoulders and voice. "It's been too long! Wish it was under other circumstances," Michael gestured to the hospital in general, "but I'm just glad you pulled through. That accident sounded pretty bad. So glad to see you're okay."
Michael almost began to feel bad for pretending to be the relative of a potential amnesiac but something in Jeremy's smile was tight. Expectant. He was waiting too.
"And you're working at Freddy's? Man, we used to have so much fun going there as kids. Sadly, it really is a shell of what it once was."
Just then another nurse came in and whispered to Jeremy's. After a quick nod the second nurse left and Jeremy's took a step forward with a smile.
"So good to see you recognize your cousin Jeremy. I'm going to have to step out for just a bit but I'll be right back." He nodded to Michael before ducking out but leaving the door open. It was the best Michael was gonna get.
"I may not have the best memory right now," Michael swung his head back to Jeremy's bed as the teen spoke, "but I know I don't have any cousins named 'Fritz Smith'."
Michael let his shoulders relax and he took a careful step forward.
"Yeah, sorry about that. I just needed to pretend to be a relative so they'd let me see you."
Jeremy cocked an eyebrow at that. "And why would a stranger need to see me?"
Now that was the question wasn't it. Michael pulled up the chair to the edge of the bed and took a seat.
He tried multiple times to begin speaking but nothing would come. Why was Michael here? To apologize? To find out what Jeremy remembers? To try to convince him it was all in his head? Or maybe he wanted to see the survivor with his own eyes. Maybe he wanted to know how he did it.
Michael must have let too much show in his face because Jeremy's thin brows furrowed in careful thought.
"Who are you?" Michael met Jeremy's eyes again. They were a pale blue, dull, and almost lifeless. Still, Jeremy looked more intrigued than upset or scared.
"My name is Michael. I've worked at a couple Fazbear locations myself. I, uh, know a bit about why it's a…hazardous work environment."
Jeremy's gaze dragged over Michael slowly, head to toe and back again.
"You do know, don't you. About how they…come to life?"
"Yeah, and not just that "free-roam" PR crap they tell everyone. But you don't need me to tell you that."
"No, I don't."
Michael shifted in his seat, somehow feeling guilty for the fact.
No, not somehow. This is his fault. He's the reason Jeremy was in the hospital with half of his freaking brain gone.
"Yeah, I…I know a bit about why this is all happening. I've been going from location to location trying to fix this, and I was on my way here. I could have taken the job instead of you and… but I couldn't get here soon enough. I'm the reason this happened to you."
Michael dropped his gaze. He'd finally said aloud, what had been rattling around in his brain since he read that newspaper article. If only he'd gotten there sooner, if only Jeremy had waited, things would be a lot different right now.
Michael met Jeremy's eyes when he couldn't stand the silence anymore. Jeremy hadn't moved, probably because it would hurt if he did, but he spoke loudly and clearly.
"The reason this happened to me, Michael, is because I wasn't being careful enough on my last night."
Jeremy didn't falter. There wasn't a trace of a lie in him. No harbored anger, nothing pointed towards Michael in any way.
He thought back to the day his brother had died, how desperate he had been to blame someone else.
Jeremy wasn't like that.
"The Mangle got to me… that's how this happened. I don't know who you are or how you seem to know about all of this, but you have to understand that."
Michael didn't say anything. What could he say?
"That and," Jeremy continued, "I want you to tell me. Tell me everything you know."
"No!" A spike of adrenaline sent Michael to his feet, metal chair scraping harshly against the grainy floor.
Jeremy's heart monitor beeped urgently and Michael instantly stepped back while the boy gathered himself.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean t-"
"Why not?"
Jeremy huffed, a little out of breath, clutching his hands together in his lap.
"Why not??" Michael repeated. Was this guy serious?
"You do not want to be more involved than you already are. C'mon, you have an out, you should walk away from this while you still can-"
"Only half of me can walk away from this, Michael!"
That shut him up.
Jeremy reached up with a finger and tapped lightly against his bandaged head.
"I'm not going anywhere. Now… tell me everything."