Chapter Text
Michael stares at his watch with growing concern. It’s 5:30, and they only have 1% of the power left. They both knew that this was going to happen when they started—the base power drain rate was 1% every five minutes, after all. It was a miracle that they’d managed to keep it down to that rate once they were back in the office, but years of practice has made them acutely aware of exactly how much power every action drains and how long it takes for that drain to start. Keeping actions limited to split seconds was what really let them last.
Things had been going…well, not smoothly, but it was manageable. There hadn’t been a dull moment since they’d started, working together like a well-oiled machine. Jeremy was quick with the doors and lights, calling time whenever he had a free moment, and Michael kept everything else on a tight schedule. Check Foxy every other minute for less than a full second, wind the box every five minutes, and change the music every fifteen. Withered Foxy’s got an arm and a leg inside, but whenever there was a pause, Jeremy chucked the limbs back down the hall. Scrap Baby managed to haul herself into the room, and the two of them knew there was no point in trying to get her out. Every time she twitched, Michael had his hand on the taser in an instant. If she was too still, or started up with that godawful clicking, Jeremy walked over and kicked her in the shin—not helpful, exactly, but very cathartic.
Speaking of Jeremy, he seemed one wrong move away from blowing a gasket. Not at Michael, of course, never at Michael. It was exceedingly rare that Jeremy ever lost his head when it came to him, and the handful of times over the decades that they’d been together, every single one had been more than deserved (in his opinion, at least. Jeremy never seemed to agree with him on that front). At the Old Man, though? Absolutely. At the animatronics? It was basically a guarantee.
It breaks Michael’s heart a little bit, the fact that there’s nothing he can do to help. Jeremy’s condition wouldn’t get better until the night was over and everyone was safe. As long as the kids were at risk, both guards would continue to slowly deteriorate. Michael was doing all right, all things considered, but he hadn’t been used like a chew toy yet. Jeremy, on the other hand, was getting obviously worse with every passing minute. The tremors in his arms were ever-present, and more often than not, Michael would look up to see his partner trying (and failing) to fight off harsh muscle spasms. His footing was growing more clumsy, causing him to stumble instead of taking proper steps. A handful of times, he’d had to stop his back-and-forth patrol of the office to stand in a far corner and dry heave, and Michael couldn’t go comfort him without putting everyone in danger.
The cognitive decline wasn’t as severe, but it was definitely there. Michael had had to remind the older guard what was happening a few times as the confusion set in, and his reaction time was slowing drastically. Warnings had to be given earlier and earlier, which threw off their timing, causing unnecessary power drain and more than one close call.
Jeremy was reaching his limit, and Michael was not going to sit here and let Jeremy stay in danger when he did. While Jeremy distracted himself by shouting profanities down the front vent, Michael leaned down to quietly knock on the makeshift door of the hiding space under the desk.
A bright green eye peeked through the crack as the door ever so slightly slid open, looking at him in confusion. In a low voice, he asked, “Is there any room down there?”
Now, he knows for a fact that there is—it was the same size as the hiding spot under the console in Circus Baby’s Auditorium, so there was enough space to fit two full adults, albeit a bit squished together. He asks more because Charlie isn’t exactly familiar with Jeremy, and might not want him up in her space like that. Neither he nor Jeremy would want to make her—or any of the kids—uncomfortable like that, even if one of them was injured.
Charlie, with her endless kindness, opens the door wider. “Is everything okay?”
He smiles at her. “It’s going to be fine, but Jeremy’s a little worse for wear, and the night’s about to get messy. I was wondering if you’d be willing to share with him?”
Worry creases her brow as she shifts over to press herself up against one side of the space. “Of course he can!”
Michael looks back up over the desk and pointedly clears his throat. “Jeremy, love, can you come here for a moment?”
The older guard looks over his shoulder towards Michael with a frown. “What’s up?”
Be firm, Michael, he coaches himself. He won’t listen to you otherwise. Play your cards correctly. Smiling nervously, Michael waves him over and latches onto his arm so that he can’t run off. “We’re about to run out of power, and I’m doing interference tonight. Charlie here has offered to let you bunk with her.”
Predictably, Jeremy’s face contorts into shocked anger as he tries to pry Michael’s death grip off of his sleeve. “Are you stupid?” he asks incredulously. “No way, I’m not going to sit and cower while you put yourself in danger! Now, let me go!”
If anything, Michael’s hold gets tighter, and his smile flattens out. He hates to call his partner out like this, but the power is slowly dropping, and they’ve got maybe two minutes left to have this entire argument. He is not going to lose. “You can barely stand, love, and in the past half hour you’ve forgotten what’s going on four times. If you go out like this, it won’t be pretty, and we both know it.”
Jeremy sneers. “Oh, and you getting mauled is a better outcome? Explain that to me, why don’t you. This is stupid, Michael. You’re wasting time!”
The older guard squirms in his grasp, doing his best to shove Michael away, but he stands strong. “Be rational, Jeremy.” He hates, hates, hates what he has to say, but it’s the only way to keep Jeremy safe. “If we both go out, I’m going to get distracted trying to protect you.” A little wounded noise comes from his partner at the concept, but Michael barrels forward. “You’re in no state to be running around the pizzeria, even without things chasing you! One of us needs to stay here with the kids, and the other needs to draw attention away. You won’t be able to handle that, and I don’t think you’ll be able to stomach another dose. You know I’m right.”
Jeremy flounders for a moment, trying to come up with a good counter, but only manages to get out a quiet, “But…Michael, please, I can’t just leave you!”
“You can, and you will.”
Charlie slides the door fully open and looks up at them both with a sympathetic grimace. “Mr. Fitzgerald, come on. You trust Mike, don’t you?”
Gaping like a fish, Jeremy sputters out, “O-of course I do!”
“Then trust that he’s got it handled, okay?”
Jeremy’s gaze bounces between the two of them and the power, and he accepts his fate with a sigh. He crouches down with a wince, bringing a hand up to cradle the side of his head, and glares at Michael. “If you get hurt, I’m going to heal you just to maim you myself.”
Michael just smiles. “Yeah, yeah. I love you too. Charlie, make sure he doesn’t wander off, okay?”
There’s a firm look in her eyes when she nods and gently grabs Jeremy’s arm. The older guard rolls his eyes as she slides the door closed again. It’s just in time, too, because the generator stutters, lights flickering and dying as the entire place goes dark. 5:35. Honestly, not a bad time considering all that’s happened. From the left door, a pair of glowing eyes peered into the room, quickly catching sight of him. Michael hums along to the Toreador March, doing his best to stay calm as more and more animatronics crowd the doors and peek out from the vents. Hi there, I’m Freddy, wanna come and play? I think you’re special in your own way…
Slowly, he backs into the left corner, watching as the eyes follow him. The one saving grace of this lineup is that nobody is in the ducts, which leaves him with an escape route. Circus Baby fully enters the room, twitching slightly, and a tiny wave of satisfaction overcomes him. Looks like she was more susceptible to that little maintenance mode bug than he’d thought. I’d love to sing a song with you, it’s my favorite thing to do, ‘cause I love you through and through!
Freddy’s eyes blink out, and Circus Baby tilts her head, frozen smile seeming more malicious than usual. In that feather-light, eerie voice of hers, she calls out, “Let’s play, Night Guard.” Addressing the other animatronics, she adds, “We promise to play fair, don’t we?” Everyone crowding the doors lurches forward, some stumbling into the room, and the few in the vents crawl out. “We’re going to play Ghost in the Graveyard. Do you remember how to play?”
Michael shrugs hesitantly. “One person is the ghost, who has to hide. Everyone else is a seeker. If someone finds them, the hider has an opportunity to tag them before they can run to safety or tell another person. The person that finds them can also try to tag them, which ends the game and makes them the new ghost.” Circus Baby nods, but he interrupts her before she can continue. “What’s the win condition? One against fourteen doesn’t seem very fair…”
She giggles, and the sound sends a shiver up his spine. Such an innocent noise, hauntingly similar to his little sister, and yet he knows that she’s just toying with him. He’s entertaining, and so many years underground would leave anyone bored. An endless game of cat and mouse, only extended because the cat is having too much fun to let it stop. “I suppose,” she starts magnanimously, “you have been very well-behaved tonight. I will even forgive you for cheating earlier, as long as you don’t do it again. All you need to do, dummy, is survive , and you are allowed to tag someone and force them to sit out for the rest of the night. You could even try to get them to tag someone else, if you’re convincing enough. That sounds fair, doesn’t it?”
He sets a timer on his watch, agrees with a quiet, “Okay,” and inches closer to the open duct.
Circus Baby’s eyes shine brighter for a moment. “Good. You’re it.”
Without a second thought, Michael crouches down into the duct as some of the animatronics start towards him. He holds his tongue when he realizes that she isn’t stopping them from cheating after all. You’re supposed to give the hider time to find somewhere to go, and the metal hand that grazes his ankle tells him that there’s no head start for him. From the feel of it, it’s Withered Bonnie’s exposed endo, and he kicks it off of him, knocking the rabbit back out of the duct. He would normally celebrate the garbled, staticky shout that comes from behind him, but right now he’s got to focus.
He’s careful to make as little noise as possible when he’s moving around. Will it help? Probably not, since the duct exits are pretty obvious, but old habits are hard to break. He crawls his way into Party Room 1, and is honestly surprised that none of them are waiting to jump him. He stands, dusting himself off as he assesses the situation.
From here, there were a few options laid out before him. He could potentially try to wait out the time hiding in here underneath a table; it was dark and quiet, and the tablecloths ended less than an inch above the floor. Most of the animatronics currently out and about would have a difficult time finding him, with the original gang being completely incapable of something as simple as bending down. It had been taken out of them when they were refurbished for reasons that he still doesn’t understand, but it’s not like he’s complaining about it. Frankly, it just made his job in ‘93 easier. The Withers were much better at it, but as long as he managed to control his breathing, it was unlikely that they’d stumble across him. However, that still left Goldie, both Babies, the Puppet, and the two Nightmares, all of which were uncannily talented at finding people. Goldie and the Nightmares could teleport directly to him whenever they felt like it, the two Babies were equipped with insanely advanced senses, which made them able to pinpoint someone’s location over time, and he’s absolutely fucked if the music box runs out. With the others, he would at least have a chance of escaping, however slim it was. If the Puppet came out to play, there would be nowhere for him to go—the damn thing was relentless, and it always knew where you were.
He could also try to make a run for it, but to where? Parts and Service had lockers and cabinets in it, and the Arcade had some tables. The Dining Area, Main Stage, Backstage, and Kitchen were all bad options—too obvious, too open.
The Arcade was a tentative ‘maybe’, but he’s quick to cross it out as well since Circus Baby would probably be heading that way. Funtimes were always drawn to it, occasionally to the point that they would distract themselves from whatever it was they were supposed to be doing. It’s a habit that Michael theorizes is part programming (Funtimes are built to locate and lure children away, and an arcade was a perfect place to do so. It’s the entire reason that the Pizza World’s main draw was the huge game area: loud music, bright lights from the cabinets, children screaming and laughing as they won and lost. Nobody would notice the absence of one child for a while) and part supernatural (when the kids in the Funtimes were here, they spent most of the day in the Arcade and actively sought it out when distressed. He’d realized quickly that it was the last place they’d felt happy, the last good memory they had of their lives).
Parts and Service wasn’t an ideal choice, either. Sure, there was a lot of clutter, which would make hiding easy. The downside to that messiness is that it’s dark right now due to the outage, and Michael knows that there’s stuff all over the floor. If he so much as brushes past the wrong table or steps on an old endo, his spot would be given away instantly, and Parts and Service only had two exits: the door and the vent. Both of those options were awful and basically guaranteed a loss. No, Parts and Service was officially a terrible idea.
There was one place he could think of, but he’s positive that he’d be accused of cheating if he got caught. The Saferoom was open, and most of the current roster was physically unable to enter it. Of course, Goldie, the Nightmares, and the two Babies would be able to find him, and the Puppet was a toss-up. That was less than half of them, though, so it’s the best choice he’s got. If he’s careful, nobody would know he was there, and he would have ample opportunity to force at least a few of the animatronics to sit out for the second game.
He creeps closer to the door leading out into the hallway and stops short when he feels a presence behind him. In a flash, he’s turned around, one arm coming up to block his face and the other reaching out. It’s Nightmare, and suddenly Michael regrets telling him that they could play later. Don’t get him wrong, he’s fine with giving them a little enrichment every now and then, but they liked to play rough. He makes contact with the bear’s torso and whispers, “Tag!” but it’s too late. Three rows of needle-sharp teeth bury themselves into his forearm, and he barely manages to swallow back a pained cry. Fuck, that definitely went down to the bone, and Michael thanks whatever force must be watching out for him that his forearm doesn’t snap under the force.
It’s incredibly difficult to even get the words out as his thoughts drown underneath waves of panicked signals being sent to his brain, but he manages to spit out a quiet, “I got you first and you know it!”
Nightmare lets out a low, disappointed grumble as he unlatches his jaw, ripping a bit of muscle out as he goes, and Michael almost feels bad. Circus Baby’s rules spring back into his mind, so he offers, “You could join my team, if you still want to play. I bet you could get Fredbear in on it, too.”
The bear perks up and nods, letting out a distorted laugh. Michael smiles, though it feels more like a grimace from the pain. Don’t get him wrong, it’s an agonizing feeling, but he’s been through much worse. Nothing will ever compare to the horrific sensation of having his insides forcefully removed, or the searing burn of fire licking up his skin as he melted and bubbled and charred. He holds his forearm close to his chest as Nightmare backs off. “I’m going to hide in here, and I need you to try and lure your brother…”