Ultimatum

His eyes squeezed closed, Mike's vision slowly returned to him as he opened them. His mind raced over the small details, trying to piece them together. Had it been a flashbang? A strike of lightning? It certainly wasn't a gun, but he couldn't find any other answers.

He checked himself over for any wounds but found none. Apart from his aching eyes, he was unharmed.

Then he looked around the room and discovered the chaos that had ensued.

All four of the animatronics were sprawled out on the ground, empty and lifeless. Their eyes, usually so full of eery life, were dull and grey. The unmistakable scent of oily smoke poured out of their costumes' orifices.

Standing where he'd been before was Detective Caine, glancing around the room with a grim look on his face.

"What…" Mike found his words, unable to keep them steady, "What did you do?"

Looking at the damages to the animatronics, Caine simply shrugged, "I didn't do a thing."

Not believing him, Mike frowned, "But…what's happened to them?

"I don't have a clue," Caine stepped over towards one of the tables that had been knocked over, plucking something from the ground. Mike recoiled, thinking he was going to stand back up with a gun in hand, but instead, it was his hat. "I'm not particularly fussed about the details, but all I know is I hadn't a hand in it."

Scowling, Mike shook his head, "I don't believe you. You know something. So, what happened to them? Are they…?"

"Dead?" Caine finished for him, before shrugging again, "Believe what you will; that doesn't change anything. I'm not some tech genius and I'm certainly not one to care about the fates of these things. If they're dead, then you know what?" He glared at Mike, "Whoever's responsible just did the world a favor."

Rage building inside of Mike, the Night Guard was about to lash out when he saw the gun merely feet away from him. Without another word, he darted over to it and picked it up from the ground, not wasting any time in getting the sights up pointed straight at the detective.

Caine raised his eyebrow at him, before holding his hands up, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't hurt her. I like that gun."

His jaw clenched, Mike glanced down at it. It was a Colt 1911, well-maintained and slightly modified. Even if Mike hadn't the aim he'd built up, it would be an easy shot from there. Judging by the look in his eyes, Caine knew that, too.

"So, Mike," The detective frowned, "What are you going to do?"

His mind went blank for a moment as he tried to will up the thought process for what he wanted to say. "Forget about tonight. Forget about all of this."

Caine slowly shook his head, "It's not that simple, Mike."

"Of course it is."

"Justice must run its course," Caine stated, "If it's any consolation, you're not a target. I'll be willing to forget your part in this, but if you pull that trigger…"

Mike shook his head, "I don't believe you. The shooting, the incident last year, what happened tonight…if it's not the Police, it'll be Fazbear Entertainment."

"And if you pull that trigger," Caine reasoned, "things are going to get a lot worse for you. If you honestly think that your biggest problem right now is the local Police Force and some shady company…"

Gritting his teeth, Mike gestured with the gun, "What does that mean?"

Caine remained silent.

Mike closed his eyes, "I don't want to shoot you. But maybe I'll be better off."

"I guarantee that you won't be."

"Then give me a reason to believe that I'll be better off with you walking out those doors!"

Caine scowled, "What? You want me to beg? I'm not that sort of guy. The simple fact is, Mike, you're screwed either way. You don't shoot me and this whole thing gets uncovered? Maybe you're right that Fazbear Entertainment will be out for blood."

Mike hesitated, "And if I shoot you?"

"Then I guarantee you'll be dead within a week."

Mike searched for the bluff, the lie; but he stared hard into those piercing brown eyes of the detective and knew there was none. Whatever his true intentions, wherever his loyalties lie…they would only mean trouble for Mike.

"So do what you think is right." Caine finished.

His finger squeezed closer and closer to the trigger and his hands started to shake. Gritting his teeth, Mike begged himself to do it. To end the threat right there and then. But he knew there was no way he could. Because Caine had figured out the simple, unavoidable fact that prevented him from doing so.

The simple fact that Mike Schmidt wasn't a killer.

Slowly, he lowered the gun. Flicking the safety back on, he tossed the pistol to Caine, who caught it and carefully placed it back in his coat holster. Caine nodded to him, before collecting the rest of his equipment which had been thrown all over the ground.

"Though I should warn you," He said calmly, "The people that I work for? They won't be happy about any of this."

With another nod, Detective Caine walked out of the building, collecting his trench coat and stepping back out into the light rain that had started to form.

As the detective walked through the rain, he dug his hands into his pockets and scowled in thought at the night's events. He'd been caught off-guard and he knew for a fact how bad it could've ended up had it not ended in such a dramatic fashion.

He shouldn't have told them what he did. When it came to the cases he would be sent to investigate, he preferred being an unknown element. It would either keep the guilty nervous or the ignorant blind.

He sighed. He needed a coffee…

As he continued his stride down the pathway, he silently noticed the presence quickly catching up to him. Soon enough, the presence had caught up and was matching his stride, quiet and hesitant.

"I assume that was you?" Caine asked briskly.

Carl nodded, "Yep."

"Nice of you to show up so quickly."

With a shrug, Carl looked at him, "Sorry for the…y'know, aggravation. Surprised to hear you got caught so easily."

"They jumped me," Caine explained, "And I wasn't expecting Schmidt to be working with them."

That took Carl back, "Wait seriously?"

"Seems that Mike's allegiances aren't very concrete."

Carl shook his head in confusion, "But…why? What reason would he have for…?"

Caine stopped, glancing around for any bystanders watching, "My arrival probably put him in a difficult position. He must've assumed that had I been successful, he'd be getting a one-way ticket to the nearest cell block."

"So he sides with the things that tried to kill him?" Carl said, unconvinced.

With his own shrug, Caine frowned, "Well, either that, or it's some sort of…messed-up Stockholm syndrome."

That made Carl laugh, "So the night guard is sympathetic towards the killer robots?"

Caine didn't return the laugh, "I don't know. They weren't what I was expecting. The only one that actually seemed to want me dead was the bear, and even then…"

Carl folded his arms, "Being a bystander doesn't make you resistant to responsibility."

Looking away, Caine didn't respond.

"What?" Carl pressed him,

"Well," Caine said hesitantly, "The fox went against him."

Carl blinked, "Seriously?"

"Aye. I managed to get out of the ropes they'd tied around me while they were bickering."

Shaking his head, Carl's voice was laced with disbelief, "So the robots have a conscious. So what?"

Caine nodded his head reluctantly, "You're not wrong there. This doesn't change anything."

The two continued walking and Caine sighed, "Crucible's going to have a field day with this…"

Mike looked around the room, wincing every single time he saw something wrecked or damaged. He'd made the decision to stand by the doorway, just in the case that when the animatronics woke up, they wouldn't exactly take too kindly to seeing him.

With how bad the night had gone, it'd just be typical that they'd turn hostile again. That was, of course, if they did wake up at all.

Any notion that they'd finally met their maker was dashed aside when Foxy's head twitched. Blinking—or winking, Mike was still unsure—the fox glanced around the room until his eye set on Mike, who was watching him warily.

"Lad," Foxy said, his voice glitchy and more erratic than usual, "Ye unharmed?"

Mike nodded, "How do you feel?"

Sitting up, Foxy checked his limbs, "No worse for wear. Not the first time Ol' Foxy seen Davey Jones' locker."

Over the next few minutes, the others gradually woke up, in a similar state to Foxy. Other than Bonnie's flashing eye, Chica's left arm not moving fully, and Freddy's jammed jaw, they were all in a better condition than Mike could've hoped for. Even with the problems that were there, he knew that it wouldn't take any more than a quick fix-up courtesy of the engineers to get them back up to scratch.

For some time, they conversed, making sure that each family member was alright. Bonnie and Chica were both subdued but mostly okay, Foxy was mostly silent, and Freddy seemed to be calm. Mike could not help but reflect how spontaneous their emotions could become, one minute being quiet, the next being boisterous, then back to being subdued.

Eventually, as he had expected to happen, the anger came back as Freddy and Foxy continued their row.

"You shouldn't have disobeyed my orders!" Freddy rumbled, his eyes harder and angrier than Mike had ever seen them.

Foxy snarled back, "Ye were talkin' about killing 'im!"

"He was a threat! He came here, armed to the teeth, with a vendetta! Then you put some…invader's safety ahead of your own family!"

Scowling, Foxy looked away, "Funny. Ya could've made the same argument about Mike."

The other two animatronics looked at them, shocked, and Mike frowned. He certainly wasn't expecting that, but he didn't know how to interject, or who he was agreeing with.

"That's not the same," Freddy replied,

Foxy snapped at him, "It be exactly the same. If we had it your way, Fazbear, the lad would be dead."

"We weren't in control of ourselves, then." Freddy retorted,

"I be doubtin' ya ever were."

Freddy's eyes lit up in rage, but before he could say what he was about to say, Mike finally mustered up the courage to step in.

"Alright, enough!" Mike raised his voice, "We're not going to get anywhere with this!"

"Where is there to go?" Freddy quietly snarled while looking at the fox, "He just signed our death warrant."

"I said we never shoulda done this!" Foxy shot back, "I said ye both be playing a dangerous game!"

"We had a vote, Foxy." Mike reasoned with him,

"Yar," Foxy snorted, "Three-to-two. Now, look where 'democracy' gotten the lot o' us."

Biting his lip, Mike couldn't think of a retort. The truth was, Foxy was right; Mike knew that. He'd played a risky hand when he didn't know for definite if he had to and now, it had led to them being in a difficult situation. A situation that none of them knew the exit strategy of.

All the while, Mike had led them off a cliff.

"I know," Mike said quietly, "I'm sorry."

Foxy stared at Mike for the longest time, until he looked away in both shame and resentment. In the back of his mind, Mike knew that the fox didn't want to blame it all on Mike, but what else was there?

Hesitating, Freddy shook his head, "We all had a part in it. We agreed to it. We all share the burden of blame. Now it's time to act."

Blinking, Mike looked at him, "What do you mean?"

With all eyes on Freddy, the bear gave a big sigh, "We don't know what will happen next. If Detective Caine returns, we won't know what will happen until it happens. We play it smart, like what we originally planned."

Bonnie shook his head, "But he's got evidence!"

"Of which we don' know his intentions of," Freddy replied, "Much like we don't know his true motives. We cannot give up, not when there's still a chance we can get away with this."

"Even if they don't believe him about you guys," Mike said, "he's got enough to put everyone working with Fazbear Entertainment away. If you guys are repossessed by the Government…"

"…then we'll have to face what we've done." Freddy finished calmly, his eyes sad.

Silently, they all looked at each other. Once more, they were plunging into the unknown, and this time, they were limited on their prospects. Even with their vain hopes that things would work out, there wasn't any true belief in that to be had.

"So," Mike asked, "What do we do from here?"

Looking between all of them, Freddy gave a silent nod, "From here on out, we should regard ourselves to be in hot water. We cannot afford to give anyone else a reason to suspect us for anything. At the same time, we should try to…make amends."

Chica narrowed her eyes, "And how exactly can we do that?"

"The employees," Freddy explained, "such as the janitors. They know about us, to some extent. So do some of the others. If we can take aims to make them…less wary about us…"

"That's risky," Mike admitted, "Even the janitors don't know just what you guys are. The only reason I know is because I shot you."

"Yet ya took it well," Foxy pointed out,

Hesitating, Mike folded his arms, "I guess I just didn't think much about it. It's all just…beyond me."

"In the end, what do we have to lose, here?" Freddy continued, "With what the detective knows, he can tell anyone about us at any point. He's got the evidence, too. At least if we can get some people on our side…"

"But…" Bonnie spoke quietly, "If they don't take it well, wouldn't we just be throwing away the little secrecy we still have?"

Freddy hesitated, "That's true. This is why this is going to be something we all have to agree on."

They all became quiet, but very soon, they offered their views.

"A little conversation never hurts anyone," Chica said.

Bonnie shrugged, "What do we have to lose?"

"The whole thing is crazy," Mike pointed out, "But it always has been, huh?"

Freddy looked at Foxy, "And how about you, old friend?"

At first, a look of defiance flashed in the fox's eye, but he nodded, "It be ride or die. If this doesn't go our way, that be not just a phrase."

"I know," Freddy admitted, "But will you have my back on this, Foxy?"

Slowly, Foxy nodded, "Always."

Soon afterward, they all departed. Bonnie fled to the supply closet where Mike could only guess his intention was to brood, Chica went to her confines in the kitchen to read the many dusty books that lay within, and Foxy returned to the cove. He gave Mike a worried look before closing the curtain.

That left Mike and Freddy alone.

"I, uh…" Mike rubbed the back of his head, "I'm going to pack up. Almost the end of my shift."

"Can I talk to you, first?" Freddy said, with no emotion in his voice.

Biting his lip, Mike nodded, "Alright."

They walked over to the far corner, away from the prying ears of the others, and Freddy gave a gaunt look towards the night guard.

"What do you think?" Freddy asked him,

Mike shrugged, "It's chaotic, but I guess that's to be expected. We can only move forward."

"I agree," Freddy said carefully, "But it should be without you."

Mike took a step back, "What?"

"At the end of this shift," Freddy continued, "you should hand in your resignation."

Scowling, Mike shook his head, "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

Rubbing his hand across his giant face, Freddy's shoulders slacked, "We need to face facts. All of this…it's coming to an end. We're either all going to die, or we're going to wish we were. That doesn't need to include you."

"I'm the reason you're all stuck in this, in the first place!" Mike gritted his teeth,

"We're stuck in this because of a decision I made," Freddy reasoned, "and because of everything we've done. You shouldn't have to suffer for it."

But Mike shook his head again, "I'm not leaving. I'm seeing this through."

"Mike…"

"Argue with me all you want. I'm not leaving—"

"Mike," Freddy said again, "Thank you. For standing with us. But you shouldn't have to die for us."

Sighing, Mike nodded his head. Freddy shared one final look towards him, before walking away. Standing there alone, the night guard looked around the room, as Freddy began to restore it to its original state.

Giving one more sigh, Mike closed his eyes. Things were only going to get worse from here. Soon after, he was hefting his bag over his shoulder, put his coat on, and stepped out into the Fall rain.

TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3: Sorry to burst your bubble; no fight scene yet, unfortunately. Of course, you may be right on the money later on...

TheAmberShadow: He came prepared, yet still got sideblinded. I guess it was foolish to expect any different when it comes to Freddy Fazbear's...

With that, Act 2 is complete! Act 3 is coming soon and I should warn you: It truly does get worse from here.