Out Of The Blue

Mike gripped the climbing rope as the Salty Sea Fox bobbed over the waves as they passed through a series of rocky croppings. He took in a deep breath of the sea air and felt invigorated, energy surging through his whole body. They had to be close now. He could feel it.

"Mike, my lad! What sees ye?" called the captain.

"Nothing, sir!" he called back. "But I can feel it in my gut! We're closing in!"

"Yer instincts have never been wrong before, Mr Schmidt!" he agreed. "Keep a weather eye on the horizon, quartermaster! That scurvy cur won't outrun us fer long!"

"Aye, captain!"

"We got 'im this time, Freddy," he heard Foxy growl to his first mate. "He's been a wily one, no doubt. But he's not slippin' through our fingers this time!"

"I still advise caution, captain," replied Freddy. "The Dread Pirate Sid has eluded us for a while for a very good reason: he's cunning and devious. If he doesn't have something up his sleeve by the time we close in on him, I'll eat my hat."

"Aye, he's a cowardly dog, ta be sure," nodded Foxy. "Always usin' some trick instead-a facin' us like a real pirate. Bu' a trick's like a joke, Fred. The more times ya do it, the more predictable it gets. I think he's been slippin'."

"Be that as it may, we should be on our guard," advised Freddy. "Be ready for anything."

"Very true, ol' friend, very true. Bu' I won't let him scare me. The fair maiden Chica has been in his clutches fer too long. We'll rescue her if it's the last thing we do."

"I second that, captain!" called Mike.

"That's the spirit, lad! We'll have her back before ye-" The ship shook a bit. "Arrgh! Helmsman! Mind how we go! Scrape one too many rocks and it's the Locker fer us all!"

Bonnie glared from the helm. "Seriously? This is what I'm doing in this dumb dream? Foxy's the captain, Freddy's first mate and what do I get? I'm the designated driver. Awesome."

"Belay that, lass!" snapped Foxy. "I need every man, and woman on this ship in tip top shape! Tha' includes ye!"

"Come on, Mikey, at least gimme something cooler to do!" she begged. "I could be on one of the guns or up in the crow's nest! Don't have me here turning this stupid wheel!"

"Ye ferget who the cap'n is, lass?" snarled Foxy. "I'm in command here an' I say stay the course an' stow that tone!"

"Bonnie, we all have a duty to perform on this ship and I find it best if we do it and do it well," said Freddy.

Mike smiled apologetically at her. She just rolled her eyes and steered the ship, muttering in a low voice to herself.

The jagged rocks towered over them. Every now and again they passed the derelict, sunken wreck of another ship that had tried and failed to negotiate this passage. It was dangerous, to be sure. But Mike knew they would get through. This was the fastest path to where the Dread Pirate Sid had his hideout. Chica would be saved.

It was to his immense elation that they neared the exit of the rocky forest and back to the open ocean. But then they got a little surprise.

"Captain! Ship approaching off on our right!" called Bonnie.

"Blow me down! An' that's port, ya daft rabbit!" he added.

"Whatever!" she snapped. "What's wrong with just left and right? Stupid sailing…"

Mike looked to see that a ship as black as night was emerging from behind a large cropping. Its red sails came unfurled and Mike could see a flurry of activity on the deck, with gun ports beginning to pop open.

"The Backstabber," Freddy noted grimly. "It's him."

"The blighter knew we were comin'!" realised Foxy. "He's tryin' ta ambush us!"

"Then we show we're ready for him!" Mike declared boldy.

"Aye lad! Try ta get one up on Cap'n Foxy, will he? Time ta show him wrong!" Foxy raised his voice to a bellow. "Ready the cannons, ya scum sucking bilge rats! Sid looks hungry, so let's let him taste our steel!"

Mike ran to his cannon which was already being loaded. A shadow fell over the deck as the Backstabber sailed close to their stern. Sid had the advantage of strength and size, but the Salty Sea Fox was nimble and quick. It was just a question of which would be bested.

"Ready!" Mike held the light over the fuse. "FIRE!"

The clapping boom of the cannons was drowned out by a strange buzzing sound. Mike looked up in confusion to see everyone around him had frozen in place. What was going on here?

Then, he heard the buzzing again. He saw a white light growing brighter…

Mike groaned in his bed, his brain slowly starting to come back to life. His groan became louder when he heard the buzzing of his apartment intercom again. Someone was ringing his number and wanting to come in. He rubbed his eyes and wiped away the drool dangling from his mouth. He stretched and climbed out of bed, silently cursing whoever was disturbing him.

He stumbled through his darkened apartment. The floor was strewn with discarded pizza boxes and Chinese takeaway containers that he hadn't gotten around to throwing away yet. There were also some clothes strewn about here and there and a few crumpled pieces of paper from failed art pieces. None of them had found their way to the bin and those that had were falling out because it was overflowing. His kitchen sink was too from dirty dishes he'd only half-heartedly cleaned.

So his apartment wasn't exactly a palace, but he'd challenge anyone to how you'd make a place like this look respectable for them.

He checked the time on his digital clock. It had just turned twelve. Who was wanting to see him? For a wild moment, he thought Freddy and the others had snuck out to find him, but that was impossible. They were performing and they weren't allowed out. Was it Mr Johnson? No, he would have called him. No one else at work knew where he lived, unless it was the post guy.

Another idea entered his head as to who it might be, just as he staggered to the intercom and pressed the button.

"Hello…?" he slurred. "This is uh, Mike."

"Good, I was hoping it was," a familiar voice said. "We already got the number wrong once."

Mike froze with his finger on the button. "D-Dad…?"

"That's who I am to my son, but this doesn't sound like him," he quipped. "Sounds more like a zombie pretending to be my son."

"No, it's me, dad," he said with a small smile now. "You uh, just caught me sleeping."

"Shame on you, Mike." He froze again at the sound of his mother's voice. "What on earth are you doing, still asleep so late in the day?"

"Living my dream, is what he's doing," joked his dad. "Hey, mind buzzing us in, buddy?"

"Uh, sure. Sorry, hold on." He pressed the button to open the door. "Come on up."

He dashed away from the intercom and hurriedly threw off his pyjamas and slapped on a t-shirt and some pants. He gave himself a quick glance in the mirror, made an attempt to flatten his hair and quickly brushed his teeth. He threw open his curtains and it suddenly hit him how messy his hovel of a home was.

Knowing what his mom would say if she saw, he quickly scooped up some scattered clothes and chucked them into his room, then shut the door. He was just about to do something with the trash littering the floor when he heard a knock.

He gulped again, already knowing what was in store for him now. With a sense of dread, he unlocked the door and opened it.

There stood his parents. His father was a tall man, approaching six foot five with full face beard and thinning dark hair. He was putting on a bit of weight with a bit of a pot belly, but this never really bothered him. His mother had done well to keep off any kind of weight with her regular exercise. Her short brown hair was kept combed and neat. Her face had a stern, yet kindly quality whenever she smiled which she did upon seeing her son.

"Hello, Mike!" His mom pulled him into a hug and it hit Mike how much he'd missed these. "It's so good to see you again, son."

"You too, mom," he replied sincerely. No sooner had she ended it, his dad gave him one. "And you, dad."

"As always, I'm the afterthought," chuckled his dad. "Glad to see you're surviving real life so far, Mike."

"I'm surprised I made it this far too. Uh, come in. Sorry about the mess," he added.

"I'm sure it's not…" His dad stopped talking when he walked in. "Well, it's no worse than your room when you were a kid, anyway."

"Mike!" He cringed at his mother's tone. "How did you let your apartment get into such a state?"

"Um…" Mike rubbed the back of his head. "I've been busy?"

"Clearly not, since you're sleeping in till twelve in the afternoon. Well, I know what we're going to do first." She clapped her hands. "Come on, let's get started."

"This is off to a rollicking good start then," commented his dad.

"That means you too," she added.

"Oh, what? It's not even my mess!" protested his dad.

"He's our son that means it's as much your mess as his." She was already taking out a trash bag from the drawer. "Come on, with the three of us working together we'll get this place tidied in no time."

His dad looked to Mike, who just gave him a shrug. There was no point arguing with his mom, especially about a mess.

So they got to work, under his mom's strict supervision. Within about half an hour, Mike hardly recognised the place. His art station had all the colours and pencils organised and paper neatly stacked. His bed was made and his clothes either properly put away or downstairs in the washer. All the crap that was covering the floor was gone so you could actually see the floor. The windows were open so it let out the unpleasant smell.

"Much better," his mom declared. "Now, please try and keep it tidy when we're gone?"

"I'll try," promised Mike. "Sorry."

"It's okay, Mike," she said with a fond smile. "It's almost like we're just back at home tidying your room again."

"Well, there's a friendly looking face." His dad held up a drawing he'd done of Freddy beaming and waving up at the viewer. A more lifelike version of him wearing his suit with an offer to come to the pizzeria. "Finally sold your soul to the faceless corporations, son?"

"Exactly," laughed Mike. "Actually, that's for the place I work at. I thought I'd do a little bit to publicise it through my art account. It's one of the animatronic performers."

His dad nodded absently and returned his gaze to the drawing. A forlorn kind of smile came to his face.

"I see." His mom had one of Chica saying how tasty the pizza was. "And this is your job at the pizzeria, yes?"

"That's the one," Mike nodded. He had a feeling this would come up and was a big reason for why they'd come.

"Hmm." She put the drawing down and looked at Mike firmly. "Right, I think after all of that we've earned ourselves some lunch."

"Food is something I enjoy," nodded his dad. "You wanna pick where we go, Mike? It's on us."

"Guys, you really don't have to-"

"Yes, we do," his mom insisted. "We're allowed to buy our son some lunch if we want to. Or I suppose it'll be breakfast for you?"

"I already got breakfast," he murmured. "Well, there's this little sandwich place I know."

"See? That's nothing too demanding. We won't go bankrupt buying you a sandwich," said his mom reasonably.

"A sandwich. Simple, yet delicious," concurred his dad. "Lead the way then, son. We're in your hands."

Mike decided to just go along with it and led them out of the apartment complex. As much as he wanted to pay his own way and not leech of his parents anymore, he didn't want to deny that the idea of them paying for a little lunch wasn't tempting. Plus, it was nice that they came here anyway. That was how he preferred to see it anyway.

He could make out his mother giving him a scrutinizing look and his dad looking a little wary. It was clear why they had come here to see him and it wasn't just a social call. He couldn't just say to his mom no, he wasn't quitting his job, say goodbye and hang up the phone. He knew he'd been distancing himself from them over the past month, but not without what he considered good reason.

They wanted to confront him about this? Fine. He had a few things he wanted to talk with them about as well.

The walk there was in relative silence, broken up by some occasional small talk. It wasn't until they sat down with their sandwiches that they got down to the real issue.

"So, how's the job, Mike?" asked his dad.

"It's great," replied Mike. "I mean, I'm really enjoying it."

"That's always the most important thing," said his dad. "Right, honey?"

"Actually, we wanted to talk to you about that." She leaned across the table. "Mike, we want you to quit that job."

"She does," corrected his dad. "I'm fine with you doing it."

"How can you say that?" hissed his mom.

"I just think things have gotten better at that place, if he's not wanting to quit."

"How can things possibly get better after what happened? Mike, I'm being serious. Get a different job. I still have some contacts at the office, I'm sure I could find you something."

"Why?" Mike asked, though not with ease. He'd been taught many times not to talk back to his mom. "Y-You keep telling to quit, but… w-what's wrong with Freddy's?"

"Bad things happened there, Mike and we don't want you getting thrown in with their lot about it," she said sharply.

"No… other reason?"

"What other reason would there need to be?" she demanded. "That place is consuming you, Mike! You didn't even come home for Christmas or New Year's! Where were you for it?"

"I was at Freddy's," he answered. "But mom, it really isn't-"

"What on earth were you doing spending your holidays there?!" she asked incredulously. "What do they have you doing?!"

"The n-night shift. Like… what dad used to do. When he worked there."

His mother looked shocked, while his dad looked only mildly surprised.

"What are you talking about, Mike?" His mom shifted in her seat. "Your dad's never-"

"He told me he used to be a night guard when I was a kid and I found out it was at Freddy's during my first week." Now that he'd gotten going, he pressed his advantage. "I know about what happened in 1987. I know my dad was David Smith before he was Andrew Schmidt. I know because the manager told me, but my own parents didn't. Now, the one thing I don't know: why?"

They both looked shamefaced now. It was his dad who answered. "We both agreed it was for the best, son. You didn't need to know."

"But now I do. And even when you found out about my working there, you still couldn't tell me the truth."

"That's not what we're talking about here, Mike," his mom said. "We're here because we don't you working at a place like that restaurant."

"But I know about dad-"

"All the more reason you should think about leaving," she insisted. "If you know what happened in that year, you'll know why your dad and I had to leave and why he changed his name. We don't want you going through anything like we did."

"I won't, mom. Please, trust me, it's much better now. It's been more than twenty years and since I started working there, it's really turned around," he argued. "Look, why don't you come along with me right now and I can show you? Once you see it, you'll get what I'm talking about."

"That sounds good to me," agreed his dad. "I have to say, I wouldn't mind seeing the old place again."

"But… but…!" She looked incredulously from one to the other and sighed. "Fine, fine. You can show us if you want. But I doubt it'll make any difference."

"And when we get the chance, we'll talk more about what you found out too," added his dad. "That seem fair?"

Mike nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

They finished eating their sandwiches, again in silence. Just as they walked out, Mike collided with someone else hurrying in the opposite direction. The guy must have had his wallet out because the jingle of loose change hitting the ground met their ears.

"Oh geez! Sorry, sorry!" the guy said. His blonde hair flashed in the sun as he bent down to gather his change. "I didn't see you folks there, I was just in a hurry."

"That's fine, happens to us all," his mom said. "Here, let us help you."

They collected all of the change they could find that the guy had dropped. He quickly put it all back into his pockets and wallet and smiled gratefully.

"Thanks for the hand. Sorry again," he added. "Hey, mind if I ask you guys something real quick? You know that local kids place? Fredbear's Pizza or something?"

"Freddy Fazbear's?" Mike corrected. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Just do you know if that night guard position is still open?" he asked. "I saw it in the papers and figured it'd be good to have a second job. Could always use the money, you know?"

"Sorry, the job's been filled," Mike said. "I actually work there on the night shift. Tough luck, sorry."

"Eh, it's fine. It was just an option." He regarded Mike for a moment and glanced at his watch. "Crap, running late! Gotta go, thanks again and sorry again!"

With that, he dashed off again and ran around a corner out of sight. They all watched him run off and exchanged looks with each other.

"Well, that was odd," remarked his dad.

"It was," agreed his mom. "Why would he assume we know anything about that place?"

"Maybe he thought we were locals," shrugged Mike. "We're off this way, come on."

He took them on the short walk to the restaurant. Mike saw his dad's face practically light up like the sun to see it, while his mom glowered at it like it was something she found on her shoe. They had a cheery greeting from Suzie when they entered. While his dad talked to her about how he used to work at Freddy's, Mike took his mom through to the dining area.

The synths in their suits were all making their rounds with the kids. Bonnie and Foxy looked to be bickering about something while supporting kids cheered on one or the other. Chica was spending time with kids who perhaps wanted something quieter to do and had them gathered around her while she sang gently. Freddy was conversing with both parents and children.

"See?" he said to his mom. "It's fine. There's nothing to worry about."

She didn't say anything. She just looked around the place with a judging gaze. Her eyes settled on Foxy, who was waving his hook in Bonnie's face while she laughed. Mike was almost amazed Foxy didn't just shrivel up and wither away under its intensity.

"Hey there, Mike!" Freddy had spotted them and came over to shake his hand. "Wonderful to see you, as always!"

"You too, Freddy. All good here?"

"Not just good. It's great!" he chuckled. "And who's this lovely lady you have with you?"

"This is my mom," he introduced. "Mom, this is Freddy Fazbear. The fun filled face of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza."

"The one and only! It's very nice to meet you, Mrs Schmidt," he said politely, holding out a hand.

"Um…" She stared at it for a while and took it awkwardly. "It's nice to meet you too… Freddy."

"Wonderful! Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but duty calls." He tipped his hat to them. "You two have a Faz-tastic day!"

He walked off to a group of excited children and started to tell them a few of his jokes. Mike rolled his eyes at the pun and looked expectantly at his mom.

"Not bad, huh?" he said.

"I suppose." She looked around at them. "How is it that kids enjoy them? They look so… creepy."

"That's what I thought too, but they grow on you," said Mike. "You have to admit, the technology is very impressive. How many other places can say that the animatronics can converse with you like that and have them walk around?"

"Or biting people's heads open," she replied in an unconvinced tone.

Mike shifted under her gaze. "I'm not doing this. Not here." He walked back out.

"You know I'm right," she insisted, following him. "They're dangerous, Mike. When are you going to listen to me?"

"I said, not h-here," he repeated though his voice was hardly firm.

"Don't you talk back to me like tha-"

"Mike, my lad!" Mr Johnson came down the stairs toward them. "Always good to see you." His smile widened when he saw his parents. "And are these who I think they are?"

"They are," nodded Mike, feeling so thankful to his boss for stepping in at just the right moment. "I'd introduce you, but I don't think I need to."

Mr Johnson walked up to his dad, regarding him for a moment with a rather stern look. He looked at his belly.

"You've grown fat."

His dad just nodded back at him with his eyes glancing down. At this, Mr Johnson broke out in a grin again and firmly grabbed his hand.

"By gum, it's been a while since I've seen you!" he chortled. "And before you ask, no, you can't have your job back. Your son's doing a bang up job and I'm not dead set on replacing him."

"Damn, you've seen through my cunning plan," laughed his dad.

"I'll wait outside," his mom said rather stiffly. "You catch up." With a brief glare at Mr Johnson, she stalked out into the parking lot.

"Sorry," his dad murmured. "She's still… you know."

"No need to apologise," assured Mr Johnson. "I've had that look more times than I care to count. But enough of that, how've you been? Andrew Schmidt now, isn't it?"

"Yep. Took a while to grow on me, but I think it works," his dad shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. "At least it means I can claim that my brother and I are no longer related, at last."

"That's one way to look at it," he chortled. "How is he?"

"Hell if I know, haven't seen him since I stopped working here. Not that I'm complaining. Probably still an ass. Always has been and always will be," said his dad bluntly.

Mike couldn't help but be reminded of how many times his dad had told him he was lucky to be born an only child. The subject of his dad's brother was one he never really discussed much and when he did, it wasn't fondly.

"But it's good to hear my son's filling in my shoes nicely," he said in a brighter tone. "I wouldn't mind seeing just how well for myself."

"You mean… you want to work with me tonight?" clarified Mike.

"Sure, if you want," he said. "Don't worry, I won't take anything from your pay check. I just wanna see the old place again. See some old friends?"

Mike smiled. "Sure, why not? Is that okay, sir?"

"Fine by me," said Mr Johnson. "Just make sure you work something out, but I'm sure you'll be fine. Having two of the best night guards under one roof is hardly a poor prospect. Right, better be off. Have a good night."

"We sure will," his dad murmured happily.

Mike felt a sense of pride from seeing the smile his dad had. The gang was going to be in for a surprise tonight.

Review response time!

1OneHuman- Clean up that mind of yours! In seriousness though, the idea was meant to mislead you down that path. It was a test and you failed. Ha.

Qwerty1020- Thank you and have no fear, I shall.

Alexia- Thank you, it means a lot to hear that.