Mike walked down the hall to the hospital, pushing open the door labelled 183 and looked at the woman lying on the bed, "Hey, Lori, how're you feeling?" he asked.
The psychic turned her head and looked at him with a smile, "Better…" she answered, "You look like hell." She said.
Mike rolled his eyes, "Haven't gotten any sleep since yesterday morning after Springtrap kicked the crap out of me." He sat down next to her.
"How was work last night?" she asked.
"Wouldn't you know that?" he rose an eyebrow.
She scoffed, "My psychic abilities have been all out of whack since yesterday." She said. "I don't know everything, Michael…"
Mike nodded, "R-right…" he glanced down at the floor. "Last night was… interesting…" he started, "Springtrap went missing…" he said, "We checked closets, vents, every corner, under tables…" he shook his head, "Couldn't find him."
Lori furrowed her eyebrows, "That's not good…" she hummed.
Mike shook his head, "The poor secretary was freaking out the whole time." He said. "Yeah, while it was… nice, and nerve-wracking that he wasn't there. I was kinda… bored." He sighed, "Like- why be a night-watch if there's nothing to watch?" he asked.
Lori nodded, "Well, that's by yours and your dad's standards…" she commented, "Normal night-watchmen watch the building for… y'know burglars, robbers, and vandalizers." She shrugged, "You guys got the exciting part of it. The… haunted part." She said, "But if it wasn't for your dad picking the job he had, he never would have met you, and he never would have met Mary. Or… Olivia, Jarvis, and Rhythmi for that matter."
Mike nodded, "Yeah…" he breathed, "Last night, this… new friend of mine… he asked why I went back to Fazbear's…" he started.
"And what did you tell him?"
"It's… all I know…" Mike sighed, "It's almost gotten me and a bunch of other people killed, but it's all I know…" he sighed, "I went back because I needed a job, and I needed a job fast. I've… been with the company for a while and I know my way with the animatronics… or… I did anyway…" he looked down.
"What else did you tell him?" she asked.
"Huh?" Mike looked up.
"I know there was more… what else did you tell him?" she asked.
"I… got the job so I could get Dad out of jail… so I could get him a lawyer…" he shrugged.
Lori nodded, "Because Jeremy needs you, right?"
Mike nodded. "Y-yeah…"
Lori smiled, "Michael… J-Jeremy only went back to Fazbear's because he needed to take care of you. He didn't exactly love his job. In fact, he was scared and pissed-off most of the time… but they paid him well. He got one hell of a raise after he adopted you when you got bit. And another raise after he took the night shift." She smiled, "And he only took that night shift so he could take care of you during the day."
Mike managed a small smile, "I needed him." He nodded, "And… he needs me."
Lori held up her fist, "We've got your back, Mikey." She smiled. "I can get you come money to put towards Jeremy's lawyer." She smiled.
Mike thought for a while, "…Do we find him a lawyer?"
Lori smiled wide and nodded, "A good one." She looked back down at her fist.
Mike smiled and bumped his fist with hers, "Thank you." He set his hand back down on his lap.
"You'll love him." Lori promised. "Everything will turn out…" she smiled wider.
..xxXxx..
Olivia popped open her car door and stepped out, looking up at the jail. Her eyes fell to the guard approaching her, a look of authority about him. She gave him a sweet, innocent smile, "Hello."
"Something we can help you with, ma'am? Are you a visitor?" he asked. He had been escorting a former inmate to a vehicle meant to take him home when he watched Olivia pull in.
"As a matter of fact, I am." She confirmed, clapping he hands in front of her.
"Okay, great, we'll get you checked in at the front desk." The guard nodded and started toward the building, then we'll get 'em out for you."
"Thank you!" Olivia followed him closely, "Uh, I never caught your name."
"Hank." The guard turned to her, "How's your day been so far?" he asked, her good mood becoming contagious to him. "Miss… uh…" he looked at her for a name.
"Olivia." She smiled, then she sighed, rolling her eyes, "Day's been rough." She answered.
Hank rose an eyebrow, "How so? Can I ask, or is it personal?"
Olivia shrugged, "Just another day in the precinct…" she said, "Some juvenile delinquents got picked up again… put a lot of paperwork on the sergeant toady…"
Hank shrugged, "It happens, what are we gonna do?" he opened the door. "Go ahead and get signed in with Debbie, and we'll get you taken care of." He motioned her to an older woman sitting at the front desk, her meticulously curled hair was a faded blonde.
Debbie smiled wide at Olivia, "Who are we visiting today?" she asked.
"I am visiting Jeremy Fitzgerald, today." Oliva smiled, grabbing a pen and preparing to sign. She glanced up to return Debbie's smile, but froze then she watched her smile fade.
"Oh…" Debbie looked down, "J- Mr. Fitzgerald isn't available to have any visitors…" she glanced up at Hank, who paled when he heard the name.
Olivia furrowed her eyebrows and straightened back up, "W-Why? Am… Am I not allowed to see him? I need to talk to him about some medication for his fever." She said.
"Well…" Debbie looked at her sympathetically, "Jeremy was recently put into solitary confinement…" she confessed.
Olivia's eyes widened as she stammered, "S-Solitary confinement!?" she asked with rage, "W-why wasn't I informed of this?" she demanded. "What happened?"
Hank rose his hands, hoping to calm the angry blonde, "Ma'am, this just happened the other day. We're still processing paperwork. Mr. Fitzgerald had been warned on multiple occasions not to get into fights with the other inmates, but he nearly beat the other guy to death. It was his last strike." He tried reasoning.
Olivia stared at him wordlessly, "B-But…" she stammered, "N-no…" she shook her head, "He…" she took a deep breath, "But he's sick…" she tried reasoning, "Really… really sick…" she reached into her bag and pulled out some cash, "I have money so he can be treated…" she looked at them nervously, "Wh-what does this mean for him?" she asked.
Hank and Debbie exchanged glances, then Debbie began typing on her computer while Hank spoke up, "I heard something about his court date being moved." He crossed his arms.
"This upcoming Tuesday." Debbie confirmed.
Olivia paled, "T-Tuesday?" she uttered.
"Yes, ma'am." Debbie confirmed.
"O-Okay…" she nodded, "Okay." She took a deep breath. "Um…" she handed Debbie the money, "This is for his medication… and- and treatment." She said.
Debbie took the money and counted it out.
"Y-You can bill us the rest if that's not everything." She said, "Just… help him." She pleaded, her voice shaking.
Debbie looked up at Hank and nodded. Without another word, Hank briskly walked off. Debbie looked up at Olivia, "Th-this- y-yeah… n-no, yeah, we're having him taken care of right now." She said.
Oliva took a deep breath and thought for a while, "I-I need to go…" she started to turn, then hesitated. She shook her head, "Yeah, I gotta go…" she rushed out, "Thank you!" she called behind her as she trotted out the door to her car. She sat down and threw her seatbelt on, "I need to see Mike.." she sped off.
..xxXxx..
Jeremy coughed violently, curling himself tighter into a ball, shivering in his cell. He missed Robert. Robert didn't leave him cold. Instead, he usually offered his blanket in case Jeremy's wasn't enough. He opened his eyes and stared at the plain, cement walls.
He missed Olivia. She always reassured him that things will be okay, even when he knew they weren't. Mike was dead. And he couldn't do anything to change it. He was probably going to be in prison for a long time, having a couple dozen witnesses to him brutally beating Morgan to death. A crime he didn't exactly recall. A crime that Mary had fully admitted to. She hadn't spoken much since aside from a few nights ago. He was in there because of her.
He missed Mike. The bright, innocent, blue-eyed little boy he'd adopted seventeen years ago. He missed his jokes, his laugh, and his willingness to put himself forth selflessly to help take care of Jeremy when he needed it. Mike always dealt with Foxy, despite how uncomfortable it made Jeremy, but Mike knew Foxy wouldn't hurt him. He determined look in his eyes when he blindly threw himself between the raging fox animatronic and security guard he had been aiming for all these years. The kid was a fast learner. It never took him long to figure out the mechanics of anything. He learned the patterns of the animatronics fast enough to feel confident in wandering around the building while he was working.
That same confidence got him killed.
Jeremy shook his head and closed his eyes, tears falling. "No…" he croaked, panting as he shifted. "It wasn't his fault…" he grabbed his head. "I didn't protect him…" he whimpered to himself. He opened his eyes, instead of the feet of his cot, he saw the feet of the table Mike had been laid on. He looked up at where his toilet should have been and found one of the animatronic suits. "Foxy..." he whispered. He pushed himself shakily to his hands and knees, blood coating the floor.
"It wasn't all his…" Jeremy remembered. "But some of it was…"
He heard banging behind him, looking up back at the door to the parts and service room, Freddy, Bonnie and Chica approached him. Behind them, was Foxy.
Seeing this, Jeremy froze, turning around to look at the Foxy suit that had sat behind him, but instead, he found the Golden Freddy suit, blood pouring out of the seams, its blue eyes staring right at him, but seeming desperate.
"Jeremy…" he could hear one of the suits behind him calling. It had to have been Chica.
"M-Mike?" he asked, trying to ignore the animatronics behind him, fear flooding his voice as tears streamed down his face.
"Jeremy…" another voice called out. This one must've been Bonnie.
"I'm sorry…" Jeremy whimpered, his hands shaking. His vision was beginning to blur. "N-no…" he grabbed his head and tried taking some deep breaths.
"Mr. Fitzgerald?" a third voice asked. Definitely Freddy.
As Jeremy took his deep, raspy breaths, he looked up at the suit in horror, hearing the same come from him. "M-Mikey… hang in there…" he went to take the suit's hand, but he went right through it, "Mike?" he gasped.
"Jeremy Fitzgerald…" the last voice called out. This voice was without a doubt, to be Foxy. Jeremy turned around in fear.
"I didn't hurt him…" Jeremy whimpered, "I would never hurt him…" he cried. "Please… I'm sorry…" he sobbed.
The crew of medics looked at each other in concern, watching this sick, injured, fully grown man break down in tears, begging for them to not hurt his son, huddled by the toilet as though it was something dear to him. One of the men sighed, "Mr. Fitzgerald, you need medical attention." He stepped forward.
"Please…" Jeremy sobbed, "Take me… just…" he inhaled sharply, "He never did anything wrong. He didn't deserve what happened to him…" he looked up at one of the men, "Foxy… you were right, I am a monster and I deserve what's coming to me…"
The man Jeremy had mistaken as Foxy paused, speechless. "N-No, sir… you're… you're just…"
"I'm the reason Mikey was so fucked up… I never should've picked him up! I should've just shut you down! I can't be mad at you, you were only doing your job!" Jeremy buried his face in his hands.
The medics all looked at him in concern. They knew this was a confession, but it didn't sound… right.
'Foxy' furrowed his eyebrows. "What is he talking about?"
"He's hallucinating…" the woman replied, "He has to be…" she shook her head, "Wait… Foxy… Mike…" she paused, "Oh my god, this is Jeremy Fitzgerald." She gasped.
"Who is he?" one of the other men asked.
"He adopted a little boy by the name of Michael Schmidt back in '87 when he was bit on the head by one of the animatronics at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza." The woman explained. She then knelt in front of Jeremy, who flinched away from her until he was pressed into the wall. "Jeremy… you were trying to do your job." She said, "You would have gotten in trouble if you didn't try taking him away from Foxy."
"I could've killed him…" Jeremy argued in a gasped whisper, "I should've at least tried taking his hand, at least I would've been an easier target for Foxy." He forced out, then he looked back up at her, "At least little Mikey wouldn't have gotten hurt." He sobbed, looking back down. "And now… as my son… I couldn't even protect him when Gerald got to him." He sobbed harder, "Gerald tortured him to death. Mike died in pain and all I did was sit in that fucking office waiting for him!" he growled, "I should've been there for him!" he panted, "But I wasn't." he took a deep breath, "And now I'm in here for two murders… one of them being a murder I don't even remember committing." He closed his eyes and wiped them, when he opened his eyes, he looked the medic in front of him in the eye, a look of bewilderment rushing over him, "Y-You're not Chica…" he looked at the others, then he looked next to him at the toilet, "This… isn't… Was I crying over the toilet this whole time?" he asked.
She nodded wordlessly, "Honey, you were hallucinating…"
Jeremy laughed nervously, then let out another sob, "Oh, thank god…" he wiped his eyes, "At least in know he's not suffering again…" he cried, "But…" he looked up at them, "Who are you?" he asked, then he paused, "N-No… I'm not going to a mental ward, am I?"
"No, sir…" one of the men behind her shook his head, "We're here to take care of you."
"You are very sick. One of your friends on the outside gave us some money for your medication and treatment." The woman explained, "She's really worried about you."
Jeremy shook his head, "But… Mike's-"
"Michael would have wanted you to take care of yourself. He wouldn't want you to suffer either." Mary's voice spoke, his eyes fading grey before returning to normal.
"I- I don't deserve this…" Jeremy whispered and lowered his head.
"You do." The woman spoke up, "Any decent person deserves the right to live." She said, "You have people who care for you on the outside. People who care a lot about you. You're grieving, I understand, Jeremy…" the woman took his hand, "But you're not doing your son any good by blaming yourself for every bad thing that's happened to him. I'm sure he never blamed you. I'm sure he loved you all the same." She made him look up at her, "I'm sure he would need you to take care of yourself the same way you took care of him." She gave him a smile, "I'm very sorry for your loss." Her smile faded.
Jeremy nodded for a moment, staring at the ground. Then he jumped forward and hugged her, "Thank you…" he whispered.
"Of course, Jeremy…" she smiled. "That being said…" she backed out of his hug and looked back to the others, "We need to take care of you, now." She said.
Jeremy took a deep breath and nodded, "Okay…" he sighed, "Okay…" he looked up at them, "You're right…"
The other three medics moved into the room and began their work. Jeremy was promptly and carefully laid down and put to sleep before they properly cleaned out his infected wound and carefully and cleanly dressed it. He was given antibiotics and a fresh bedspread for him to rest on. For the first time in weeks, Jeremy slept soundly and peacefully.
**Our Jeremy is going to be okay! I'm on vacation now as I'm posting this, in gorgeous Sedona, Arizona. My husband had never seen it before so I decided to go stay in-state and have a room booked in the red-sandstone desert part of my home state. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, if things seem a bit slow to you, don't worry, I am getting back to the action very soon. If you have read my comeback letter, I did mention that I plan on rewriting the series. Adding a few things, taking away a few things, for the sake of consistency and logic because I confused myself reading this, to be totally honest. Read and review! Let me know what you think and I'll see you later next week! Stay awesome, folks!**