Chapter 1: Hello Mother, Hello Father
The next morning, Mike decided it would be best to check with Arianna, the manager, to clear his parent's visit with her. It wouldn't affect whether or not they came anyway, just whether or not Mike would be paying for it.
"Arianna, I wanted to ask you-," Mike started, walking into her office.
"No," she replied, not looking up from her paperwork.
"But I-," Mike began again, flustered.
"No," Arianna interrupted again, penciling in notes on a document.
"Alright, fine, it's on you then," Mike told her, and walked out of her office. Arianna watched him leave, and shook her head, returning to her paperwork.
"Yes, Schmidt, I'm sure it is," Arianna muttered to herself.
After his "conversation" with Arianna, Mike decided to swing by the security office. Knowing full well that his parents would be judging him, the guard began to clean up the mess that had accumulated. He never cared about cleaning it when he feared for his life, and even less when he feared for the animatronics' existence. But now, Mike scooped the pile of garbage off the desk and into the trash, before using the end of a broom to get rid of the cobwebs.
The odd pictures drawn by kids and faded poster were still tacked on the small corkboard on the wall, so Mike covered them up with some of the artwork Bonnie made, to help brighten the office a bit. Plus it had the potential of being a calming way to break the news.
Satisfied his office would pass his mother's inspection, he quickly slipped inside Pirate's Cove to have a few words with Foxy. The fox sat, powered down, on the treasure chest onstage, but Mike knew that he could still here and see what was going on. The guard sat down across from Foxy, making sure that he could be seen.
"Hey Foxy," Mike greeted, "So… Um… Listen, I know you're excited to meet my parents, but you got to keep yourself under control, okay? You're… scary. Just, be cool." Mike sat awkwardly for a moment, letting his words sink in, then rose up and left, heading home to try and get some sleep.
Several hours later, Mike was on the bus back to the pizzeria. He wanted to be early in order to prepare, but unfortunately didn't get the chance. In the parking lot, there were two cars, and the janitor was leaving in the other one. What was left was a small SUV, and Mike could make out two figures inside.
Great, they're early, Mike thought unhappily as he walked up, but plastered a fake smile anyway. He tapped onto the driver side window, and his father looked at him, and smiled.
"Hey there, champ!" Mr. Schmidt exclaimed happily, and opened the door, "Surprised?" Mike nodded,
"Oh yeah, I'm surprised," Mike said honestly. Mrs. Schmidt walked around the front of the SUV, and hugged Mike.
"Mikey! It's so good to see you!" she said. Mike returned the hug awkwardly.
"You too, Mom," Mike replied. Mr. Schmidt put his hand on Mike's shoulder.
"Why don't you show inside? It's kinda chilly out," he said, and Mike nodded, leading the way to the front door.
After stepping through the main entrance, Mike was a little bit grateful his parents came early. That would give him time to give them the tour without worrying about Freddy or the others. It had been years, maybe even decades, since Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt had been to Freddy Fazbear's, and it showed.
"Kind of dingy, don't you think Mikey?" Mrs. Schmidt commented, wrinkling her nose.
"A little. This place's been having a hard time," Mike agreed. Mr. Schmidt nodded.
"After those murders, and that animatronic attacking that man? I'd certainly think so," Mr. Schmidt said.
Crap, they know about the Bite! Mike thought. Things might be difficult.
"I still don't understand how that happened," Mrs. Schmidt said, "The papers made it sound the robot just jumped offstage and got him. How would that work?"
Mike swallowed. They didn't remember. It made sense, they only ever really brought him to Freddy Fazbear's as a sort of makeshift babysitting service, and that hardly ever occurred. And it had been well over a decade since the Schmidts attended a birthday party here. For Mike's family, the pizzeria was a rare treat.
"Well, um, actually…" Mike began to explain, but faltered. His parents stared at him expectantly.
"Yeah, son?" Mr. Schmidt asked.
"Uh, well, you see, the animatronics… sorta come to life at night," Mike said, and braced for their reactions. Mrs. Schmidt laughed.
"Oh you and your imagination. No wonder you took this job, you loved it here!" Mrs. Schmidt said.
"I'm serious!" Mike said.
"So why don't you show us what you do, eh Sport?" Mr. Schmidt suggested, ignoring his protests. Mike sighed.
"Alright, follow me," he said, and led the way down the West Hall.
When they passed Pirate's Cove, Mr. Schmidt stopped in front of the curtain.
"What's in here?" he asked Mike, opening the curtain and peering inside.
"That's where that animatronic that bit that guy was, they shut it down after the… incident," Mike explained.
"Hey! It's still in here!" Mr. Schmidt said, spying Foxy seated on his treasure chest, "Geez, that thing looks ugly as hell!"
"C'mon, Dad, be nice! He's been locked up for years!" Mike said, defending his metal friend.
"He?" Mrs. Schmidt asked.
"Yeah, he. That's Foxy. He's a pirate captain," Mike said.
"Foxy, eh? Well, he's still ugly," Mr. Schmidt said, and closed the curtain. Mike shook his head, and stuck his head through the curtain as his parents moved on.
"You never seem to catch a break, huh?" Mike said to the fox, and followed his parents to the security office.
Mr. Schmidt let out a low whistle upon walking into Mike's office.
"What a dump!" he said, taking in the faded walls, thin carpet, and beat up desk and chair. Mrs. Schmidt wrinkled her nose as well.
"And you're here all night?" she asked.
"Pretty much. That tablet connects to all the security cameras, and I have these doors," Mike explained, pushing the button for the left door in demonstration. The huge metal door shut with a bang.
"Jesus! Isn't that a little excessive, son?" Mr. Schmidt asked.
"It's come in handy…" Mike replied, rubbing the back of his neck, "We had a break in earlier this week. I just locked my office down, and they were… dealt with."
"And you were okay?" Mrs. Schmidt asked, concerned.
"I was fine, Mom," Mike sighed, "That's why I got these doors, just in case." Mike reopened the door, and continued to explain that the restaurant had limited power at night, so he had to be conservative, or else the fridges could thaw. He also picked up the tablet and demonstrated how that worked as well, pulling up the Show Stage feed. The screen showed Freddy and the others, all in their normal show positions.
"Son, I don't know how you can sit alone here all night, staring at these things. They're creepy as hell," Mr. Schmidt said.
"They're not that bad," Mike said, checking his watch. 11:56. Getting close.
"You talk of them like they're regular people," Mrs. Schmidt observed, "Are you sure this job is good for you?" Mike let out an exasperated sigh.
"Yes. This job is fine, I enjoy it, actually. Now look, I really need to tell you about the animatronics…" Mike said.
"Son, drop the joke. It's not that funny," Mr. Schmidt said.
"It's not a joke. I'm telling you, these guys are alive!" Mike argued.
"Mike, I think you should quit. Being up late at night, alone, in the dark, it's not healthy," Mrs. Schmidt suggested.
"I'm fine, Mom! Look, see those drawings?" Mike pointed to the corkboard on the wall. It was filled with several of Bonnie's drawings, mostly pictures of the others and Mike. They weren't museum quality, and were in crayon, but you could definitely tell who was who.
"All of them were drawn by Bonnie," Mike explained, pulling up the Show Stage camera on the tablet and pointing to the purple rabbit. Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt looked at Mike in concern.
"Son, those are robots," Mr. Schmidt said, "Just a bunch of metal. They're not alive."
Mike pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Earlier today, he was worried they would flip out when he told them. Now, he had to prove it to them, to prove he wasn't going crazy. His watch alarm went off, alerting them to the start of his shift. Mike looked up.
"You know what? I can prove it. Right… about…" Mike picked up his tablet, turning it on and picking the Show Stage feed again. Bonnie had left her spot, happily walking towards the office. Mike had decided she would be first, since the rabbit was the most caring of the group. Soon, Mike and his parents heard heavy muffled footsteps as Bonnie skipped as best she could towards the door. She cautiously peeked through the doorway, huge smile on her face.
"Now," Mike said, smugly, looking up from the tablet in his hands. He didn't expect what happened next.
Mrs. Schmidt screamed, and Mr. Schmidt shoved past Mike, hitting the door close button. Bonnie jumped back, narrowly avoiding getting hit by the heavy door. Mr. Schmidt stepped between the door and Mike.
"Mike! Get back!" Mr. Schmidt said.
"What? Why?" Mike asked.
"There's something wrong with the robots!" Mr. Schmidt said. Mike shook his head.
"I told you," Mike said, and reached for the door release, "Now say hello." Mr. Schmidt made to grab Mike's hand and pull it away, but was too late. The door opened, revealing a very confused Bonnie.
"Er, hello…" she said nervously, giving an awkward wave. Mr. Schmidt pushed Mike back and shut the door again.
"What the hell, Dad?" Mike asked, confused.
"Don't let that thing in here, what are you mad!?" Mr. Schmidt asked, looking at his son as if he were insane.
"Christ, Dad, she's not going to hurt you!" Mike said, throwing his hands up in frustration. He went for the button again, but Mr. Schmidt grabbed his arm.
"What's gotten into you? These things are dangerous!" Mr. Schmidt exclaimed.
Mrs. Schmidt screamed again, pointing to the window. Bonnie had her face and hands up against it, glowing green eyes filled with concern. Mr. Schmidt slowly walked up to her.
"Shoo! Get out of here!" he ordered. Bonnie cocked her head, puzzled. She looked at Mike, hoping to figure out what was wrong. Mike went to open the door again, but his father blocked him.
"Dad, move!" Mike said. Mr. Schmidt pushed him back.
"I don't know what you're thinking, but we are not opening that door with that thing out there!" Mr. Schmidt said. Mike turned to Bonnie.
"You heard him, Bon, back off a bit. Just hang back with Freddy and Chica, I'll sort this out," Mike told the rabbit. She nodded sadly, and walked away.
"They understand you?" Mrs. Schmidt asked.
"Yes. They're not dangerous. Look, she's gone, now open the door so we don't waste power," Mike said.
Mr. Schmidt stared at the button, obviously not wanting to remove the barrier keeping them "safe." Mike reached over and punched it, the door sliding back open.
As soon as his path was clear, Mike strode out into the hall. Mr. Schmidt grabbed his arm again.
"Where are you going?" Mr. Schmidt asked.
"To prove to you they're not dangerous," Mike replied, and shook off his father's grasp, continuing down into the hall.
"Mike, don't!" Mrs. Schmidt called out, but refused to leave the room.
Mike found Bonnie waiting just out of sight of the office. She walked up, clearly upset.
"Mike, what's wrong?" Bonnie asked, "Why do they keep shutting the doors?"
"Well, just as I assumed, they're scared of you," Mike explained. Bonnie looked down, ashamed.
"Oh. I'm sorry, Mike," Bonnie apologized.
"It's not your fault. C'mon, we'll try again," Mike told her, grabbing her hand. Before they could react, however, a large red blur shot past, loud metal footsteps clanking down the hall.
"Foxy, no!" Mike called after the fox. He heard Foxy shout "Ahoy, there!" and his parents scream loudly. Mike and Bonnie took off running.
Upon reaching his office, he found Foxy staring down at Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt, who had tucked themselves into the furthest corner away from the metal fox. Mike stepped between them.
"Foxy, back off, man, this is not the time," Mike said, putting his hands up.
"But I wanted ta meet yer parents," Foxy said stubbornly, crossing his arms.
"You will, just… go back to the Cove, okay? You can't just charge them," Mike told the pirate. Foxy nodded guiltily, and backed out of the office, staying by the window so he could still see.
Mike reached out a hand to help his parents up, but they didn't take it, instead staring at Bonnie who looked over Mike's shoulder. He turned to the rabbit.
"You too, Bonnie," Mike said gently. Bonnie nodded, and joined Foxy outside. Mike turned back to his parents.
"I'm sorry about that. Foxy was really excited to meet you guys, and-," Mike began, but Mr. Schmidt interrupted him.
"Excited? That thing attacked us!" Mr. Schmidt said.
"I did no'!" Foxy argued from the hallway, "Why do ye lubbers always say tha'?"
"Foxy, chill. Mom, Dad, they aren't going to hurt you!" Mike explained. Bonnie nodded, stepping forward one pace.
"Yeah! We're all really excited to meet you!" Bonnie said encouragingly, "Freddy and Chica too!"
"Freddy and Chica?" Mrs. Schmidt asked, "You mean there's more?"
Her question was answered when Freddy and Chica walked up to join Bonnie and Foxy outside the left door.
"How are things coming along, Michael? We heard screaming," Freddy said, concerned.
"About as well as usual," Mike replied. Freddy frowned, and stepped forward to stand behind Mike, taking off his top hat.
"I see. Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt, we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. My name is Freddy Fazbear, and this is Chica, Bonnie, and Foxy," Freddy said gently, pointing to each animatronic in turn, "Believe me when I say that we have no desire to hurt you, and are very pleased to meet you."
Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt stared. Slowly, they stood up, and Mr. Schmidt spoke up.
"Mike, let's go," he ordered.
"What?" Mike asked.
"Let's go," he said quietly, as if to make sure the robots didn't hear.
"No!" Mike protested. Mr. Schmidt grabbed him and dragged him out the right door, putting himself between his family and the animatronics as they backed away down the hall. Mike protested and struggled during the entire journey, but his father refused to let go.
After a small stunned pause, the animatronics followed them. Mike managed to lock the front door, tossing his keys down the hall and past the animatronics.
"Mike, what are you doing!?" Mr. Schmidt asked.
"I was hoping not to come to this, really, and I want to say I'm sorry," Mike told them guiltily.
"For what?" Mrs. Schmidt asked.
"This. Foxy? Chica? Grab them," Mike ordered.
A/N: Operation Cliffhanger is a go. Standby for possible fan reaction, and prep all point defense systems for possible incendiary retaliation. Keep up a constant PM radar sweep. Pump out the writer's block. Maintain heading 004, next stage of operation should begin shortly. Dismissed. –DeltaV (Basically, you were on an aircraft carrier metaphor just then).
