Chapter 4

A/N: hey everyone, welcome back! Glad to see y'all here again! Anyways, I just own the story, none of the characters are mine.

Gotham, August 3, 21:32EDT

"Let's turn on the light to see if Ballora is on stage."

"Yeah, not happening," Mike grumbled, ignoring the AI's spiel. Pulling out a folded paper with a makeshift map scrawled messily onto it. Coming back from the maintenance room, on the left of Foxy's room he vaguely remembered seeing the outline of a door just before being knocked unconscious. One that he hadn't seen on the schematics he'd downloaded. Hopefully it led to a server room. Shoving the object back in his back pocket, he crouched in front of the vent leading into Foxy's room. "Hand Unit, open the door to Funtime Foxy's room."

"Let's turn on the light to see if Ballora is on stage."

"Honestly I don't know what else I expected." Reaching into his toolbelt, he pulled out a screwdriver and shoved it under the little doorway. The metal groaned as he pried it open, finally getting enough room to shove his fingers of his free hand underneath. Shoving the screwdriver back into his belt, he pushed the door up.

"Warning: You've entered a restricted area. Entering this side of the site is forbidden by unauthorized personnel."

"Yeah, I don't care," he snapped, sliding through the vent into the room. The sound of his boots hitting the floor echoed throughout the dark room, making the teen pause as his gaze flickered across the room, adjusting to the lack of light. Slowly, he could make out objects in the room, though he was most focused on three things: the familiar animatronic standing on the stage, and the two doors on each side of the room, one leading to his target and the other…he wasn't going to think about that one. Right now, all he needed to think about was reaching the door without triggering the infernal animatronic's motion sensors.

It shouldn't be too hard considering he wouldn't need to flash a light every few seconds to see where he was going. And, he would be able to actually see the damn thing coming this time. The only thing he'd have to worry about the stupid robot tracking was the glow of his eyes. Though humans didn't have glowing eyes. So maybe Foxy wouldn't register him as a target. That'd make his experiment a bit more challenging; hopefully he'd find the evidence he needed in the server room or even his home before he'd have to actually test that hypothesis.

Taking a deep breath, Mike quietly began walking across the room towards the office door. His heartbeat echoed in his ears, almost deafening the sound of his footsteps as he crossed the room, keeping a close eye on the fox. Its head twitched, moving towards him, causing him to freeze as he watched the animatronic. But after a few moments, it didn't move again. Exhaling in relief, Mike slowly continued his path, moving just a tad slower to keep from tripping the sensors again. The robot twitched again, however, by this time Mike was at the door.

Only he hadn't accounted for a locked breaker-box perched right beside the thin metal seams in the wall disguising the door. One he would bet was actually hiding a keypad. A keypad was the only thing standing between him and answers.

Cursing under his breath, he crouched down, pulling out a screwdriver. He didn't have time to guess the code. Electric sparks flew between wires as he hotwired the lock, smirking as the door opened. Stepping inside, he grit his teeth, scowling as he found himself facing an empty security station.

"It seems you have accidentally wandered into a restricted area. Due to the sensitive nature of the materials you may be exposed to here, you will not be allowed to leave until the clean-up crew arrives at six AM, so hang tight. Rest assured that you will be promptly rescued, fired, then sent home. Thank you for being an employee. We that your experience has not be as regrettable as ours."

Mike raised a brow, yeah, couldn't really fire someone who didn't work there—actually, now that he thought about it, they still owed him a paycheck. He'd have to add that to the talk he was planning to have with whatever dumbass his father had hired to run this particular location.

Shaking his head, the young man slid into the chair. He was distracting himself, and right now, he needed to focus on the task at hand. While it wasn't a server room like he'd been expecting, the fact that the system locked him in did mean that there was a chance he could find something in there. Though…leaning back in his seat, Mike frowned as he noticed the odd doors on either side of him. These weren't in the schematic either.

Narrowing his eyes, he turned on the computer in front of him. Whatever his father was up to, he was going to find out.

-.-

22:15EDT

Mike couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it. But he couldn't argue with the evidence sitting in front of him. The meticulously typed notes of experiments hidden away on a completely separate hard drive he'd found tucked in a hidden compartment of the wall. The pictures of at least a dozen victims. Statistics about which animatronics had the highest success rate in luring children into the hunting ground he was now seated in and methods to improve them.

And…there had also been one about his baby sister. He had been the reason his baby sister was dead.

For years, Mike had blamed himself for not keeping an eye on her like he was told. When in reality it was dad that had been responsible for her death. And, the worst of it was, Lizzie had been the first death here. That meant that he'd killed more people. There were more kids that his father had slaughtered.

Mike's stomach twisted; if his dad's murderous machines killed Lizzie, his favorite, then who was to say his other children weren't fair game? Their dad already had no qualms about leaving bruises.

Suddenly, those moments where his father stood by his bed, holding a knife or with a hand on his throat seemed a lot more frightening. How many times had he woken up that way? How many times had his dad threatened to kill him? How long had this been going on underneath everyone's nose?

If Mike was a monster, then his father had straight up crawled out of the deepest pit of hell, because there was no way a human would do this.

Stepping back from the monitor, wide eyes gazed into the darkness where he'd heard Freddy and Ballora roaming around him. He wondered how many bodies could potentially be scattered around him.

Mike never considered himself the most religious, he vaguely remembered his mother taking him to church before she died, but some part of him half expected to see a tormented soul of one of his father's victims glaring at him.

Swallowing the bile in his throat, Mike slammed his hands onto the buttons for the doors and vent, sealing off the room while he processed his thoughts. Ok, so first thing's first, he needed to get out. But, right now, the door he came through was sealed shut until he figured out whatever passphrase unlocked it. Even if he did open it, then he'd still have to get past Foxy and whatever other animatronics were currently roaming around. And he wasn't going to risk getting lost in whatever deathtrap his monster of a father had constructed.

So, he could wait till the morning crew arrived and see if they noticed something wrong, find his own way out, or try to call for help. Checking his watch, Mike scowled, yeah, waiting around wouldn't work, he'd run out of power before then, assuming the Circus Freaks didn't try to kill him again. Finding his own way out, well, it either meant hacking and then trying to see if he was faster than the fox or hoping his father had built another exit in wherever the dark halls lead to.

Calling for help would be his best chance.

Pulling out his phone, he sighed in relief. He had a signal, a weak signal, but he'd take it. He began scrolling through his contacts, looking for a specific number. Canary had said only to call it during an emergency.

Well, he was trapped underground in the place of one of his worst traumas in a room where he discovered his own father was a serial killer. Mike would consider that an emergency.

"MICHAEL! WHERE ARE YOU?!" the woman shouted the instant the call opened. "Your uncle called me almost an hour ago saying he couldn't find you! We were worried sick! What happened?!"

"I'm ok, for right now," he replied, muttering the last part. "I'm at Circus Baby's Entertainment & Rental, maintenance area."

The other side of the line was quiet for a moment, "…Isn't that…"

"Yeah…I just," he sighed, "I just needed to check something out." He flinched as he heard Bon Bon slam against the metal door from Freddy throwing him again.

"What was that?!"

"Just the animatronics being asshats again."

He could hear a few muffled curses as she spoke again, probably talking his uncle or someone else. "Mike, stay there, Batman's on his way."

Mike looked around the sealed room he was trapped in, "On it."

-.-

22:45EDT

Mike should've taken his chances with Fuckyou Foxy.

Because this was getting ridiculous.

Right now, he had three of Ballora's little sidekicks plastered to his face, giggling like maniacs when he tried to pry the bastards off. He would've been able to keep them away had they not leapt at him the moment he tossed them aside. And had their bigger companions not kept hurling themselves at the doors and vents around him. Plus, he had to deal with Circus Baby's tiny asshats trying to cut off the air and electricity.

He at least might've been able to trick the fox by turning on his headlamp and throwing it as far from his as possible while making a break for the vent. But, no, he decided staying put in a serial killer's paradise was the best idea.

Honestly, it's no wonder that Circus Baby had tricked him, because Mike was a certified dumbass.

"Michael."

The teen practically leapt out of his skin, throwing himself across the room, barely noting the minirenia's crawling off his face. Holding up a wrench, he turned to the gaze of the Dark Knight instead of the animatronic he'd been expecting. Batman loomed in the doorway behind him, and Mike could make out the form of Foxy sprawled on the ground.

"Hey Batman," he smiled sheepishly, lowering his makeshift weapon.

"What were you thinking?"

Shifting from foot to foot, the teen suddenly felt rather embarrassed. "Uh…there was something I wanted to check out?"

"The tampering?"

Mike grimaced. Yep, Canary told him about his theory. But at least he wouldn't need to explain his thought process. "Yeah," he chuckled nervously, "guess you helped me prove that theory."

The vigilante did not look amused. "You put yourself in unnecessary danger."

"I would've figured it out!" he snapped, crossing his arms. "I survived these things before," he motioned to himself, "this."

"You almost died."

Mike deflated. Yeah, he had, but knowing what he knew now, he'd hardly called it his first brush with death. Just his closest.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, a few close calls, but I'm ok. Physically at least." He sat back down, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked down at the ground. "My dad sent me here to die, didn't he?"

The following silence was almost deafening. "Yes," the Dark Knight eventually replied, his tone losing part of its hardened edge, "he did."

Mike nodded, swallowing the painful lump in his throat. It hurt, knowing the monster his father truly was. To learn that his father would've been happy to see him die.

Some childish part of him wanted to go back to before all of this, back before when he thought his father had been capable of love. Back when he used to hang on the man's every word. When he thought if he just worked hard enough to prove himself, his father would someday find him worthy of his love and attention.

Even now, some part of him still wanted that. Even now, knowing the truth, Mike still loved his dad when he should've hated him.

Choking back a sob, he became aware of a hand running up and down his back. God, he really was pathetic. His chest felt tight as he took a deep breath, trying to reign his emotions back under control. He'd been crying way too much as of late. Grown men didn't cry. "S-Sorry."

"It's alright, you've been through a lot."

Mike shook his head, "Still doesn't excuse my behavior." He could see the eyes of the cowl narrow, but before any argument could be made, Mike began wriggling the mouse on the desktop. "Anyways, I—I found something," pulling out the files, he turned the screen towards him, "it's pretty bad."

Batman didn't respond, his jaw visibly tightening as he looked through what the teen had discovered. "I had my suspicions; however, I wasn't expecting it to be this bad. We'll have to check the other locations."

"Father used to visit Metropolis, Boston, New York, and Orlando a lot."

The Dark Knight nodded, putting a hand on his shoulder, "You did good work. However, you can't go running off on anymore unsanctioned missions. Now," he motioned him towards the door, "your uncle should be here to pick you up."

Mike winced, his uncle was going to have his head. With a sigh, he rose from the chair striding towards the door. "You sure you want to be left here alone?"

"I've disabled the animatronics, and Commissioner Gordon will be here in a few minutes."

The teen nodded, stopping just outside the hidden room before turning to look back at the hero, "Wait, you said no more unsanctioned missions. Does that mean I could do sanctioned ones?"

"If your uncle approves: yes."

-.-

23:12EDT

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

"What?! Why?!" Mike protested.

"No!" Henry exclaimed. "I am not letting you run off and put yourself in danger! You just got out of the hospital, Michael!"

"And I'm all healed!"

"Yes! After spending several weeks in a coma!" the older man reminded.

"Did you not hear a word I said? I want to do this! I want to help people!"

"You don't need to prove yourself Mikey. You can help people in other ways. Ways that won't risk your life!"

"I can't just sit around and do nothing knowing he's still out there!"

"And I don't want you going anywhere near that man again!" the ginger-blonde snapped, grabbing his shoulders. "William is a monster. He murdered countless children, including my daughter and his own kids." The man trembled as he set a hand on the teen's cheek, "I will not let him take you too." The teen grunted as his godfather pulled him close to his chest. "I refuse to bury another child."

Mike closed his eyes, resting his head on the man's shoulders as he felt shuttered breathing. "I'll be ok. I promise. But I can't do it; I can't just sit and wait for someone to find him, to make him pay for him crimes. I want to help. Please."

His uncle's eyes looked tired as he looked at him, making the blonde look older than he was. With a deep breath, Henry gripped his shoulders, keeping the teen plastered to his side as he looked out to Batman and Black Canary. "You'll keep him safe, right?"

The heroine smiled, "I wouldn't call hero work safe, but I will personally take over his training and give Mike all the tools he needs to succeed. Batman will provide some other equipment. He'll also be going on missions with a team of other proteges that the League knows about and will be able to assist with if anything goes sideways."

Michael bit his lip, looking back to his godfather as the man pursed his lips, pushing his glasses up in thought. "Ok, I'm not totally happy about it, but I will let you do this Mikey," Henry yielded, "mostly because I'd rather you do it under supervision rather than going behind my back. However," he pointed his finger and tapped the tip of his nose, "if you do anything reckless like tonight again, I will revoke your…extracurricular activities for a week. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."