Summary: A collection of miscellaneous short stories as an aside to Something Always Remains.

Rating: PG-13/T for swearing, violence, and occasionally touching on uncomfortable themes. Or, to put it more bluntly, I at times briefly address the fact that attitudes and culture in the 90s and back were more overtly racist, sexist, and homophobic than they are today.

Genre: General

Disclaimer: Five Nights at Freddy's belongs to Scott Cawthon. The name of Mike Schmidt is his too, but the character interpretation is completely mine. Also, I know the main character in the books is named Charlotte (and goes by Charlie). I had mine first and refuse to change it. XP

Background: I write too much good stuff, and have spent so much time in this AU that my brain still occasionally goes, "here's a thing that totally happened."

A/N: I actually really, really wanted to put this one in the main story, and it broke my heart to have to cut these scenes, but every memory in the main story ties to another plot point or two in some way, and these really only served to pad out Mike's background. It worked better in the main story better to just briefly mention what happened to Mike's parents when needed and move on.

This is also the only short story broken into parts. Collectively, it's longer than most chapters in the main story.

August 1975

For the last two years, he saved for this. Every birthday party he attended, every special occasion, Mike played games, saved his tickets, and religiously kept count to be sure he would have enough. And today, the prize he lusted after would finally be his, the one toy he wanted since he was five. He worked hard to do his chores and earn this night out. It would be worth cleaning the bathroom twice a week and helping his mother rearrange the kitchen.

"You've got quite a collection there, sport," Johan said, in his mild German accent.

Mike held the plastic bag tightly to his chest, clutching it like the treasure it was. And he brought his backpack to contain his prize once he acquired it.

"It's got to be enough," he said.

"What are you getting, sweetie?" his mother asked.

"...A toy," Mike said, awkwardly.

He wasn't sure how his parents would take it. He already planned to keep it hidden from his friends so they wouldn't make fun of him, but he had his little heart set on it, no matter what. So his best option was to get enough tickets, and get his prize when no one was looking. Then his parents couldn't take it back, because they couldn't get the tickets back.

"Which toy?"

"You'll see."

They pulled to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Mike unbuckled his seat and practically flew out the door, eager to play games and finally collect his prize.

"Michael!" his father scolded.

But Mike was already at the front door and eagerly trying to yank it open with one hand, ticket bag clutched in the other.

"Mom! Dad! Come oooon!"

Charlotte chuckled as she tucked a strand of her long black hair behind her ear. With her blue eyes, there was no mistaking which parent Mike better resembled.

"Better do as he says, Johan," she said.

Her husband rolled his eyes.

"Some days, Charlotte, I wonder where he gets the energy."

Johan helped his son get the heavy front door open.

"Michael, why don't you go watch the show while your mother and I find a table?"

"But I don't want to watch the show! I want to play games."

"In time, son, but we have to wait in line to buy tokens first."

Mike frowned, but grudgingly obliged. His mother gently took his backpack and tickets to hold at the table while his father went to get the tokens and order a pizza. Feeling a bit dejected that things weren't going as planned, Mike took a seat towards the back of the crowd of other children, ready to run to the games when his father returned with his precious tokens.

"It looks like we have time for one more song," Freddy said, his animatronic eyes looking over the crowd. "Which one shall we sing?"

"Oh! I know!" Chica said, brightly. "How about 'Pizza My Heart'?"

"Don't you mean 'Piece of' my heart?" Freddy asked.

"Isn't that what I said?" Chica asked, brightly.

"You must have a piece of pizza on your mind," Bonnie said, gently.

Some of the kids in the audience laughed, along with a few parents playing along. A few adults at a nearby table groaned, not bothering to hide their true reactions to the exchange.

"I do love pizza," Chica agreed, "but do you want to know what I love more?"

"What?" the other two asked.

"All of our wonderful guests that came to see us today!"

Chica looked over the crowd, pointing to various cheering kids.

"I love you, and you, and you-"

Mike watched as the animatronic pointed to him next, ducked down a little to avoid the other children looking at him. He was seven, after all, not a baby like a six-year-old!

"-And especially you! All of you! You're all very special, and a piece of my heart!"

"I think we have our song, Freddy," Bonnie said.

"I think so, too, Bonnie," Freddy agreed. "Why don't you start us off?"

The bunny nodded, started to play a tune on his guitar. Mike paid very little attention to the song and its silly lyrics, just looked up to see if his father got the tokens yet. And while he ducked down a bit when Chica pointed at him, secretly, he enjoyed her attention. It made him feel a bit special.

Johan came back to the table with the tokens and the pizza receipt. He laughed as his son darted for him and hugged him tightly, then took the tokens.

"In a rush there, Michael?"

"I have to get more tickets!"

"All right, all right."

Johan handed the tokens to Mike.

"Just don't spend them all on one game, sport."

Tokens in hand, Mike made a beeline for one of the games that he knew he had a good chance of scoring plenty of tickets on.

"I wonder what toy is so important that Michael's in a rush to get it."

Charlotte just shook her head, pulled a novel out of her purse.

"You have to admire his work ethic," she said. "It's almost cute that he wants to get it himself."

Johan nodded in agreement, letting his wife have her moment of peace and relative quiet. He himself just enjoyed watching his son have fun and play.

"With determination like that, Michael will succeed at any job he chooses."

Over the next two hours, Mike played hard, taking breaks only to run over to the table to drop off his tickets-and keep the correct count!-and barely sat down for ten minutes to eat two slices of pizza ("Mike, I'm not cooking when we get home, and you're not going to bed hungry. Sit down and eat your dinner!"). Here and there, his father tried his hand at some of the games, giving any tickets he won to Mike.

After nearly twenty minutes on the same game, Mike hit a jackpot, his blue eyes bugging out as he watched stream after stream of paper dispensing from the machine. He dashed back to the table once he ripped the last one from the game, clutching two hundred tickets in his arms.

"I can get it!" he said, excitedly, stuffing the long threads of paper into the plastic bag.

"What are you getting?" Charlotte asked, looking up from her book.

"I'll show you," Mike said, grabbing his backpack, "but no peeking."

"All right, Michael, we promise. Go get your toy."

Mike beamed, and ran over to the prize counter. Only a few other children were there, deciding on cheaper prizes. He hung back, wanting them to get their toys and go away already, so they wouldn't see what he picked. Behind the counter, two employees, and blond man and a red-haired woman, worked to fill the demand. The man noticed Mike and his ticket hoard, and knowing that counting that stash would take longer than usual, decided to assist his small guest at another part of the counter.

"Hey there, young man," he said. "How can I help you?"

Mike noticeably stayed away from the other children, kept his voice down. He pushed his ticket bag up onto the counter, the thing practically overflowing with them.

"Oh my, that's a lot of tickets!"

Mike nodded.

"There's 1,647 in there," he said. "I kept count."

The man eyed the bag, pulled out some streams of tickets and quickly counted about half of them before turning to Mike.

"I believe you," he said. "What can I get for you?"

"Don't laugh," he said, sternly.

"I won't laugh," he promised. "Which toy can I get for you?"

Mike looked at the shelf behind him, pointed to a specific row of plushies.

"...I want one of those."

"Chica?"

Mike quickly looked over to make sure the other children didn't hear, then nodded to the man.

"Yes."

"Are you sure? Most little boys want Foxy."

"I want Chica," Mike said, feeling his face flush. "Please."

The employee caught on, but nodded.

"All right," he said, and noting Mike's discomfort, quickly grabbed one of the stuffed Chica toys from the shelf and slid it over the counter for him to grab. The delight in his eyes said enough as he quickly put it in his backpack, overjoyed to finally have it. The employee gave him a warm smile.

"That was 1,500 tickets," he said. "You still have 147 left, but I can round it up to 150. Would you like anything else?"

Mike looked over the other prizes for a few minutes, then settled on two sheets of stickers and a small bouncy ball, which also went right into his backpack.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, and thanks for coming by!"

Mike held his backpack in his arms and practically skipped back to the table. Johan looked up when he saw him coming.

"What did you get, sport?"

Mike clutched the backpack tighter, felt his stomach clench. They were going to find out sooner or later. He decided to just get it over with and climbed up into his seat. Slowly, he opened his bag and pulled out the Chica plushie. Johan reacted about as he expected.

"A girl's toy? Michael, take it back and get one for boys."

Mike's eyes dropped to the table, the delight they held before gone just as quickly.

"I...I like Chica," he said, quietly.

"You're not a girl, Michael. Take it back."

Charlotte gave her husband a small glare.

"It's just a stuffed animal, Johan. He'll grow out of it."

"He should be getting the fox! Or even the rabbit!"

"Johan, stop it! You're upsetting him!"

Charlotte moved her chair closer to Mike, then put an arm around him.

"Why did you pick Chica, sweetie?"

"Because she's colorful and nice," Mike said, feeling his face grow warm again, "and loves everyone, and I like her purple eyes. ...And I like her cupcake. It's always smiling, and it's so soft!"

He let his mother feel it to make his point.

"Those are all very good reasons," Charlotte agreed. "It's good to be nice and smile at other people, isn't it? It makes other people feel special."

She then turned to her husband.

"Wouldn't you agree, Johan?"

Her voice was calm and sweet, but held a distinct, "don't you dare make our son cry" undertone.

Johan sighed, knowing he wouldn't win this battle.

"Fine," he said, "but next time, get the rabbit."

Mike quickly put his new toy back in his bag as his parents gathered their things. He zipped it tightly, then threw it over his shoulder, before he glanced over at the stage. The band was finishing up another show, and about to play "Pizza My Heart" again. This time, Mike actually listened to the chorus, even as he walked with his parents to the front door.

"No matter what you do

No matter where you go

We'll never be apart

Because it's plain to see

You will always be

A very special piece of my heart."

"And you'll always be a piece of mine too," Mike said, quietly.

He waited until the car pulled out of the parking lot to pull the Chica toy out again, properly held it in his arms for the first time. The soft plush and squishy interior were just as he imagined they would be, and while he would be asleep before they got home, even Johan had to smile at the glimpse of his son in the rearview mirror, curled up in the back seat with his new friend