Chapter 2: Trust
Mike sat awkwardly at one of the tables in the Dining Hall, drumming his fingers against the surface. Across from him sat his parents, who were being "encouraged" to stay seated by Foxy, who stood behind them. At first, Mr. Schmidt tried to get up and escape, but Foxy's growling convinced him otherwise.
Now, he spent his time glaring at Mike. Mrs. Schmidt kept looking down at her lap, except for when she would take small fearful glances at the metal fox behind her. She wouldn't stop crying, and Mike felt a pang of guilt.
"I'm sorry, okay?" Mike told them for what seemed like the twelfth time in the past minute. "Believe me, holding you hostage was not part of the plan."
Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt didn't reply, but Mr. Schmidt's glare grew more intense, if that was possible. Suddenly, Mrs. Schmidt spoke up.
"What are they going to do to us?" Mrs. Schmidt asked in a wavering voice.
"Nothing," Mike replied, "Right Foxy?"
The fox nodded, trying to give a warm smile, "Tha's right. We just wanna chat," he said.
"Hell of a way to go about it," Mr. Schmidt grumbled, shifting in his seat.
"You chose the hard way," Mike reminded, "Now relax and wait for the others, okay?"
Chica hoped to make amends with food, choosing to quickly bake a pizza as a peace offering. Bonnie, on the other hand, chose to finish the drawings she was making, while Freddy had disappeared into the Backstage without explanation. Foxy had wanted to grab something from his Cove, but Mike needed him to keep his parents seated.
Soon, the smell of piping hot pizza began to drift into the Dining Hall, and Mike's parents began to relax, Mrs. Schmidt more so.
"Oh good, it was just going to be pizza," she said in relief. Mike looked at her, puzzled.
"What'd you think Chica would cook in there?" Mike asked.
"…Us," Mrs. Schmidt admitted guiltily. Foxy looked at her bewildered.
"Ye thought we'd eat ya?" he asked, insulted. Mrs. Schmidt gave a guilty nod.
"I still wouldn't put it past 'em," Mr. Schmidt murmured, glancing at Mike.
The room fell into silence again, until heavy footsteps approached, and Chica walked up carrying the pizza she made.
"Sorry for scaring you, I guess," Chica said, and placed the pie on the table before standing next to Mike.
Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt made no move to eat it, choosing to stare at the pizza instead. Chica shifted impatiently, crossing her arms. Mike grabbed a slice.
"Jeez, it's not poisoned, look!" Mike said, taking a huge bite and swallowing it, "See? Just try it."
Silence fell as Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt continued to stare at it, until another set of heavy footfalls sounded. Bonnie walked up, several pieces of paper in her hands.
"Hi," she said carefully, "Um, I'm sorry you got so scared. I made these for you, to say I'm sorry." Bonnie placed the drawings on the table.
One of them depicted Mike's parents sitting at the table like they were doing now, with Bonnie and the others standing around them. The word "Sorry!" was drawn in red crayon across the top.
Another, apparently drawn the previous night, since the clothing was different, showed Mike's parents standing on the Show Stage, playing instruments with the band while Mike and Foxy watched from the audience. This one also had a message written on it, reading "New Friends!"
The last one, also drawn the night before, was of just Mike and Bonnie's idea of what Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt would look like. The three were standing like a family portrait, with Mike in the middle.
Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt stared at the pictures, visibly confused. Mike spoke up.
"These are awesome, Bon!" the guard said, "Right Mom? Dad?"
"Oh, yes, lovely," Mrs. Schmidt stammered, giving Bonnie a nervous smile. Mr. Schmidt frowned, and looked up at the rabbit.
"What's your game?" he asked. Bonnie tilted her head in confusion.
"Game?" she asked.
"Yeah. Holding us hostage, then giving us pizza and, this," Mr. Schmidt said, gesturing to the drawings.
"It's an apology, Dad! They don't want to hurt you. Bonnie made these because she was excited to meet you! There's no game!" Mike explained, exasperated, "You wanted to see what I did at work. This is what I do! I watch over these guys, my friends!"
"Friends!?" Mr. Schmidt asked, "These things are your friends!?"
"Oh my God, Dad, yes!" Mike argued, "What's your problem? Why won't you get it?"
"I have a problem? I have a problem?" Mr. Schmidt roared.
"You're the one screaming," Chica pointed out, shrugging her shoulders. Mr. Schmidt continued, pointing an accusing finger at Mike.
"What about you? Making friends with a bunch of murderous robots! What about the other night guards, huh? What happened to them?" Mr. Schmidt asked.
Mike faltered. Shit, he though, where's this going? Mr. Schmidt noticed Mike hesitate, and continued on.
"As soon as I read that the night guards kept disappearing, I always wondered why. I got worried when you started here, but couldn't figure it out. Now I know. It's them, Mike! Don't you understand? I figured it out; these guys lure you in being all nice and happy, and then bam!" Mr. Schmidt smacked the table for emphasis, "They kill you! That's what they're doing now! They're going to kill all three of us!"
Mr. Schmidt finished his speech, and looked around the table, panting slightly at the exertion. Foxy, Bonnie, and Chica all looked away, remembering what they did to previous guards. Mike, on the other hand, sighed in relief, before starting to chuckle.
"That's what you think they're doing? I already figured out what happened to those guards, Dad. We're perfectly safe, trust me," Mike told his parents, still chuckling at how far behind his parents were.
"So what actually happened to the other guards, Mike?" Mrs. Schmidt asked. Mike looked to her, still smiling.
"Oh, they're dead," Mike said, and Mrs. Schmidt gasped, "But it was a huge misunderstanding. These guys were programmed to guard the place at night after the murders, being set to not allow anyone other than themselves to be inside. They assumed that the guards were animatronics, and were 'out of uniform' because they didn't have a suit on. These guys caught them, and stuffed them into a suit."
Mr. Schmidt looked at Bonnie, examining her suit, and turned back to Mike.
"That doesn't sound so bad," he commented.
"Those suits are made to attach to their robot skeletons, and are filled with crossbars and wiring so they can move their arms and mouths and stuff. If you're just pushed in there, it'll kill you," Mike explained.
Mike's parents sat in horrified silence, while Chica, Bonnie, and Foxy looked on sadly. Mrs. Schmidt broke the quiet.
"Did they ever try and do that to you?" she asked.
"Yup," came Mike's flat reply.
Mrs. Schmidt looked at Bonnie for confirmation, and she nodded guiltily.
"We found out he was human about halfway into his second week," Bonnie explained, "And we just recently realized all the others were human too."
"They feel horrible about it too," Mike added, "That's why they were all so happy to meet you, since it was kind of like a fresh start."
The guard paused to let the words sink in. His parents held similar expressions as they tried to process what they had just heard.
Mike then heard Freddy's voice calling out from Backstage, sounding more metallic as he increased its volume.
"Michael? Can you come help me with this?" the bear called.
"Yeah, sure!" Mike yelled over his shoulder, and stood up, climbing onto the stage. Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt weren't happy with being left alone, but didn't stop him.
"What's up?" Mike asked, stepping through the doorway. The Backstage still unnerved him, with all the empty heads staring back at him, but he was distracted by Freddy, who looked out at him from the row of hanging suits.
"I thought if I brought out one of the suits and showed it was empty, they'd believe us," Freddy explained.
"Makes sense," Mike agreed, "I guess you overheard us."
Freddy nodded, but frowned and gestured behind him.
"But I seem to have gotten myself… stuck," he admitted.
"Stuck?" Mike asked, struggling not to grin.
"Yes, stuck. Something caught onto my back when I was digging through these suits, trying to find one that didn't have dark splotches on it," Freddy said, moving back and forth for emphasis.
Mike laughed despite himself, and moved to see what the problem was. It appeared one of the holding racks had been broken, and pierced the back of Freddy's suit, catching on his endoskeleton when he tried to move.
"Ouch," Mike commented, starting to wiggle the hook around, "Does that hurt?"
"We don't feel pain, just contact," Freddy explained, "I feel something, and it feels metal, but that's about it."
"And other stuff?" Mike grunted, starting to pull the hook out.
"Everything feels a little different," Freddy said simply.
"Huh," Mike said, and gritted his teeth, pulling the hook hard.
It finally game free, taking a little bit more of Freddy's suit with it, and Freddy stepped away from the rack.
"Much better," he said, "Thank you Michael."
"Don't mention it," Mike said, rubbing his hand, "Let's go see if we can introduce you guys again."
Back at the table, the tension broke when Freddy reintroduced the group.
"Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt? I know we've had some… difficulties tonight, so I'll start over. My name is Freddy Fazbear, and these are my friends, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy," Freddy said, again gesturing to each animatronic in turn.
"Hello… Freddy," Mrs. Schmidt greeted awkwardly, "Bonnie… Chica… er, Foxy."
The animatronics nodded as he listed their names, Bonnie giving a little wave. Foxy moved from behind Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt to stand across from them as well, standing next to Chica, who was on Mike's left. Freddy moved to stand on Mike's right, nudging Bonnie to the side to make room.
Mr. Schmidt, however, didn't say anything, still apparently convinced they were all about to be murdered. Mike frowned at him.
"Dad, say hi," Mike said, "They're not going to do anything, I swear."
Mr. Schmidt grunted, and looked away. Mike covered his face with his hands.
"Oh my God, you're so damn stubborn," Mike groaned, voice muffled by his hands. He dropped them onto his lap.
"Ye haven' finished yer pizza," Foxy observed, gesturing to the pie with his hook.
Mrs. Schmidt smiled nervously at the fox, and grabbed a slice, taking a bite. Chica grinned as her expression changed from a forced smile to genuine surprise, and the bird crossed her arms in triumph when Mrs. Schmidt took another, larger bite.
"This is quite good," Mrs. Schmidt praised.
"Thanks," Chica replied, and looked expectantly at Mr. Schmidt.
"Don't be rude, Dad," Mike said, pushing the pizza towards his father.
Begrudgingly, he picked it up, and studied it. He held it for several seconds, before finally taking a bite. His reaction wasn't nearly as pronounced as Mrs. Schmidt's, but his demeanor softened almost immediately.
"Remember when we used to take Mikey here?" Mrs. Schmidt asked her husband, and Chica chuckled at the nickname. Mike shot the bird a glare.
"Yes, dear, I do," Mr. Schmidt sighed, setting his slice back down, "Glad to see the food's improved." He turned to Mike
"Alright, now what?" he asked, "We had your pizza, happy?" Mike nodded, and checked his watch.
"Well, my shift isn't over for another couple hours. You guys are more than welcome to stay," Mike told them. The animatronics nodded eagerly. Mrs. Schmidt smiled, and opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by her husband.
"No, no, it's rather late. We should leave," he said. Mrs. Schmidt looked at him.
"Oh, hush," she said, "We were so mean, the least we could do is stay, to apologize."
"We'd be more than happy to have you stay," Freddy added.
"Yeah! It'll be fun!" Bonnie said. Mr. Schmidt looked at each animatronic, staring at Foxy, who had an encouraging smile on his face.
"Come on, dear! These are our son's friends, after all," Mrs. Schmidt said. Mr. Schmidt sighed.
"Alright, fine," he said, "But just for tonight."
A/N: I know what you might be thinking: "That's it? That's the conclusion? But it's so short and stuff." And you would be correct, slightly insulting voice signifying my reader base. It would be short if this were the conclusion. Good thing it's not! See you next chapter!
Oh, and another thing. A fan of mine took it upon him/herself to make videos of readings of my stories, which is awesome! I'll let you know more when they're ready, because I can't wait! Word through the grapevine has also told me that apparently more fan artwork is getting made as well, which is also incredibly exciting!
I've also noticed a few little nods to my series in other stories (I think…), such as the same name for Foxy's ship, (I called it the "Red Fox"!), and little shared character quirks. Whether the nods were intentional or not, I still found it great! (Side Note: the "Red Fox" is a really generic name, so I'm not taking credit for being the first one to call it that, although I didn't get it from somewhere. It just seemed like the perfect name to give for a kid-oriented pizza place to pick.)
Also-also, I found a story that had a fleshed out Foxy story in it, which was pretty damn fun since it reminded me of the one "my Foxy" told Caleb in Night One. I'm blanking on the name of it, though. If you know what the hell I'm talking about, share the name.
Since all that stuff's going on, I want to repeat that I'm seriously lucky to have you guys as readers. Until I talk to you in italicized bold font again! –DeltaV
