Winner Takes It All

"You know, it's funny," Mike's dad said from across the table.

"What is?" Mike asked.

"This." He gestured around. "I used to get my breakfast from here too when I was done working at Freddy's. It had a different name back then. Scott's Sandwiches. They did a pretty good bacon sandwich back in the day."

"Really?" Mike was silent for a moment. "I think Cawthon Culinary is a better name. There's more to offer on the menu, I mean and they do a pretty good breakfast."

"I suppose it's better to have some more choice. I don't think all those sandwiches did my heart any favours," he joked. "Still, I think I've earned myself one. Ah, here we are."

The waiter brought their food over. A bacon sandwich and a coffee for his dad, a couple of croissants and some orange juice for Mike. The latter set about buttering his pastries, while the former bit eagerly into his meal.

"Oh yes," he said with satisfaction. "Ahh. Just what I needed."

"But not what your heart needed?" noted Mike.

"Oh never mind my heart. What's it done for me lately?" He grinned as he ate. "This is the best I've felt in a long time, Mike. I'm going to savour the feeling."

"I understand." Mike couldn't help but smile either. "I don't think I need to ask if you enjoyed being back."

"You're right about that," he nodded, gazing in the general direction of the restaurant. "Nearly thirty years but here I am, back again like it was only yesterday."

"Hm." Mike glanced at his dad's head. "Did you have more hair yesterday then?"

"Oi, watch it," he chuckled. "I already know I'm old, I don't need you reminding me." He returned to his wistful gaze. "I missed it. I already knew I did, but being there with you tonight… reminded me of just how much I have. Thank you for that, Mike."

"Happy to do it," he said sincerely. "They were glad to have you back too."

"Even after everything…" he murmured. He smiled at Mike. "I never thought in all my days that you'd end up there like I did, Mike."

"Of course you did. Didn't you say that I'd go there someday every time you told me those stories?" he reminded.

"Oh wow. You remember those?"

"I did after some time there. It was pretty obvious where you drew your inspiration from after a while," said Mike.

"Well, it is a kid's restaurant and it obviously made good kid's stories." He frowned. "I hope Foxy doesn't sue me for plagiarising his work."

"You used Foxy's stories?"

"I may have tweaked them in places," he admitted. "What can I say? The guy's a good storyteller."

"You'd have been carrying on his work then. I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Mike sipped his orange juice. "So, how did mom feel about this?"

"I think you know the answer to that, Mike," his dad sighed. "She let me go, but it wasn't with any sort of good grace."

"Did you ever tell her? The truth about Freddy and the others, I mean?" clarified Mike.

"Oh yes, I'm sure she'd readily believe that," he remarked. "'Hey honey, there's something you should know about Freddy's. I'm best friends with the performing robots who can talk and move around but only when I'm there alone six hours a night for five nights a week.'"

"Seems reasonable to me," shrugged Mike with a small smile. "Why don't you bring her along tonight or some night this week?"

"I don't know, Mike. All she sees in Freddy's is the place that ruined all of our lives and forced her to leave her home. She sees them all as dangerous machines and if she learned what they really are…" He shook his head. "I just don't know how that would affect her. It might even make it worse. It's easy to forget they're not human, but they aren't."

"I know the feeling," agreed Mike. A memory of feather soft lips crossed his mind before he hurriedly banished it. "A-Anyway, I just thought maybe if she saw them for what they are and who they are, it might change her mind."

He shook his head again. "Your mother made up her mind about Freddy's a long time ago, Mike and you know how she is when she has her mind made up about something. I don't see that happening. She's determined to try and make you leave this job."

"I gathered that much. I'm guessing it was her idea to come out here?" he asked.

"Pretty much. She kept saying that if it came down to it, she'd drag you out herself. She's going to try and get you on your own at some point and try to convince you again," he warned. "Head back to your apartment when we're done here and get some sleep. You can make the excuse that you were either out or asleep if she tries to get you there and I'll back you up on that. But just be mindful, she'll find you at some point."

Mike nodded absently. He remembered all of those times his mom had done things like sit him down and tell him how dangerous activities would be. Even just walking around his estate or being on the playground at school. He'd still do those things, but he'd be so worried about every potential danger she'd tell him about that he didn't stay out for very long. That was if she even let him out.

Even when he'd gotten out and gone off to college, he wasn't exactly one for frat parties and the few times he did go along… they didn't end well. Best case scenario, he'd stay for five minutes, feeling really awkward and go home. The worst, well… memories of those were fragmented.

"I'll bear that in mind," he said uneasily. "Thanks, dad."

"No problem, son." He chuckled a bit. "You should have seen the look on her first on our first date when I told her where I worked."

Mike smiled at the thought. "It's not exactly a typical job."

"But it's an interesting one," said his dad smartly. "On that subject, anyone you've got your eye on, son?"

"Um…" Mike suddenly found his croissants very interesting. "Not really."

"Okay, come on. Who is it?" his dad persisted. "Is it that girl Susie on the front desk?"

"Uh…"

"No need to be ashamed, Mike. She seems like a nice girl and she did have some nice things to say about you," he said with a wink. "I'm sure if you asked her out for a coffee, she wouldn't say no."

"Sure," Mike muttered. "So uh, you coming again tonight?"

"Alright, alright, your torment is over if you really don't want to talk about it," he said slyly. "And yes, I will be. Never pass up a chance of free food, especially if it's Chica's cooking."

"Can't argue with that," nodded Mike.

"Plus, I can't miss my own party," he added. "It really was great being back last night. I got a feeling that this night's going to be just as good, if not better."

"Yeah…" Mike murmured. "I'm sure it will…"

For obvious reasons, the synthetics had to begin the process of getting ready for his dad's party almost the red hot second they were out of their suits. Mike had brought along his old CD player per Bonnie's request and they got some music playing. But with the spare guitar and at Bonnie's insisting, it wasn't long before his dad was up on stage with her.

Mike had heard his dad play guitar a few times before, but he'd never seen him shred it like an actual rock star. There were a few times when his notes sounded discordant compared to Bonnie's style but it was great to hear and his dad looked like he was having the time of his life.

The others were enjoying it too, although Chica only had time to briefly stick her head out of the kitchen to see before she had to get back to work on the food. But for about an hour, they played requests and blared out music they all ended up dancing to. Even though Bonnie did make fun of Mike for his dancing again.

"Woo yeah!" Bonnie finished playing their latest number and slumped to the floor. "That was awesome, but I am beat."

"And which of us… is supposed to be older?" his dad panted, wiping his forehead. "I have missed doing that."

"I'll bet. How could any other player match up after me?" she said cockily. "But yeah, I've missed playing with you too, Davey."

"Andy, more like."

"Whatever," she dismissed. "And even after all of these years, you still sound pretty good. Even if you missed a few notes."

"Thanks, Bonnie," he said sincerely. I'd tell you about your performance, but if your head gets any better, it won't fit in your suit head."

"Fine. I don't need your praise to know how good I am. Man, Chica's taking a while with those pizzas," remarked Bonnie.

"You don't even need nutrition," reminded his dad.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate a well-made pizza," she countered. "I have to endure kids eating them right under my nose every day, gimme a break."

"What a horrible torture," he laughed and walked off the stage to the kitchen. "I'll go and see if she needs an extra pair of hands."

"Like father, like son. Pair of pervs," she snickered and leant against the stage while idly strumming her guitar. "Still not as good as me, but that was still pretty awesome. Shame you don't have the same flair, Mikey."

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Um, sorry."

"Don't sweat it," she shrugged and looked back down at her guitar. "You're good for something, just need to figure out what it is first."

For some reason, even though Mike knew that was just Bonnie being Bonnie that stung a lot more than he thought it would. He wondered away from the stage, past Freddy who was talking with Foxy and looked in the direction of the kitchen.

Why did he feel so bad about this? His dad was happy to be back. The synths were glad to have him back. They were having a party to celebrate. Yet he couldn't get rid of this feeling he was getting, like he'd had a couple of nights ago when his dad had come up as a subject. They were all happy to be reunited and having a great time.

But… they wouldn't just forget about Mike. Of course they wouldn't, he told himself. They were his friends. They wouldn't forget about him, they wouldn't…

"Mike?" He snapped his head up at the sound of Freddy's voice. "You okay?"

"Um, yeah. Fine thanks, Freddy," he replied awkwardly.

"You sure? You look as if you're preoccupied with somethin'," he noted.

"It's nothing, really," he insisted. "I'll go uh, see if Chica needs any more help in the kitchen."

He walked towards the doors, but he could feel Freddy's eyes on him the whole time. He almost considered telling him, but he imagined that he'd just tell him it was all in his head. Besides, he didn't want to spoil the mood for his dad's party.

A number of ingredients for pizzas stained the cooking boards when he entered and he saw his dad and Chica busy on a batch of them.

"Okay, just knead that out and I can get that one in the oven," Chica was saying. "Then, if you wouldn't mind doing that while I check on the cupcakes."

"Already on it," his dad said. "Time to show you how much your lowly apprentice has learned, Chica."

"I'm looking forward to seeing the results," she giggled. "I have missed doing this with you. You were always a big help. Most of the time, anyway."

"I thought I told you I wasn't the one who flicked that cheese at you," he said innocently.

"Then who was it, I wonder? The phantom cheese flicker again?" she remarked.

"He's a slippery customer," his dad shrugged. "I wouldn't be surprised if he was still here after all of these years."

"It's the strangest thing," she said, cocking her hips. "His happenings seemed to stop after you left."

"Who can explain the supernatural?" he replied.

"Who indeed?" she said pointedly. "Oh, hello Mike. Did you need something? If you're hungry, just be patient a little longer. Your dad and I are working as fast as we can."

"That's fine. I was uh, just coming to see if I could give you a hand," offered Mike. "In the kitchen, I mean."

"That's really sweet of you to offer, Mike, but I think we're fine here. You know what they say about too many cooks. Also, your dad used to do this quite a bit with me so we know what we're doing," she added.

"Oh." Mike nodded absently. "Right, okay."

"N-Not that's my reason for not accepting your help," she said quickly. "I-It's just he knows his way around my kitchen and it's just better. I really appreciate your offer to help, Mike but we're fine, really."

"It's okay," he assured as casually as he could. "See you in a bit."

"Thanks again, Mike. It really is- HEY!" She flinched when some cheese hit her in the cheek. "What in the world…?!"

"Oh no, he's back again!" his dad gasped. "And he's resumed haunting his favourite victim!"

"I'm flattered the phantom thinks of me so highly," she laughed.

Mike awkwardly chuckled and shuffled out of the kitchen to leave them to get on with it, trying not to let it bother him.

Not long after the first couple of pizzas were brought out and they eagerly dug in to their food. As usual, Chica's cooking was great and the pizzas she told them were prepared by his dad weren't too bad either. All the while, his dad was the life and soul of the gathering, telling jokes and recounting past times with the group.

While it was nice to hear about those times, Mike couldn't help but feel like an outsider when hearing about so many things he wasn't present for and how much better his dad knew the group better than he did. But it was fine, letting his dad be the centre of attention. He deserved it and Mike didn't want to be bothered by it.

So why did it continue to do so?

"Well, that was a fine meal," said Freddy, wiping his mouth when they were done. "Very well made, both of you."

"Aye, a fine feast," voiced Foxy. "Now, how's abou' we do somethin' ta work off all-a that energy from our food? Somethin' ta really set our spirits alight?"

"Yeah, that sounds cool," agreed Bonnie. "Maybe Mikey can do his little dorky impressions for us."

Mike groaned. "You're not going to let that go now, are you?"

"Come on, it's not so bad. I'll see if I can make you a cape out of some spare curtains," she offered sweetly.

"I'll pass, thanks," he muttered.

"You're no fun," she huffed.

"I think I got a better idea, lass." Foxy rose from the table and left for his Cove. They heard him grumbling and rummaging around for something until he came back out with two wooden cutlasses. "Been a while since I had ta use two-a these."

Mike's dad grinned when Foxy gave him the sword. "I think one of us might be a little rusty after all this time."

"Don' sell yerself short, mate," encouraged Foxy. "I'm sure ye'll remember a few things once we get goin'."

"Who said I was talking about me?" His dad walked with him to the front of the stage and stood in a ready stance. "En garde!"

"Have at ye!"

Their wooden blades clonked against each other and their fight began. It was obvious that this was a staged duel, but they both did their part to make it look as realistic as possible. At first, it was a typical fencing duel, just moving back and forth but it got a little more active as it went on. They would switch sides, perform an action roll and swipe, lock their blades together and push each other away. Everything you might expect from a sword fight.

Mike watched as Bonnie shouted out taunts, Chica cheered and Freddy nodded approvingly. It was so strange for Mike to see his dad, a man who he always saw as rather reserved and reasonable, appear to be adept at staged sword fighting. On the flip side, it lent further image to Foxy as a pirate, accentuated by bellows and insults. Like his dad, he really looked like he was enjoying himself.

"Come on, ya scurvy cur!" he jeered, lunging at him. "I've fought children wi' more skill than ye!"

"Is that why you're so poor?" countered his dad, blocking and slashing back.

But in the end, his dad's age and physique didn't help him win the day. Foxy managed to knock his sword out of his hand and press the wooden blade to his belly. He bellowed a triumphant laugh while his dad, though defeated, still looked overjoyed.

"Oh aye, that was jus' wha' I was missin'!" roared Foxy. "Even after all this time, ya still gimme a run fer me money, matey!"

"Not as fast as I used to be, Foxy," admitted his dad. "But a good duel all the same."

"A-course it was!" chortled Foxy. "Don't think anyone could match me as well as ye could. It's grand ta have ya with us again."

Mike smiled and nodded along, but he couldn't shake how hollow it was starting to feel to him. He didn't have much time to dwell on it before Freddy raised his voice.

"Well, after that impressive display, I think it's time for our shared traditional game," he suggested. "Let's see how we fare against two night guards watchin' our moves."

"Challenge accepted," snickered Bonnie. "This is gonna be fun."

"Sounds good to me," agreed his dad. "After that, I need to get off my feet for a bit. Come on, Mike. Let's get set up."

Mike followed his dad to the office while the others left to position themselves. He hoped this might help make him feel a little more involved. After all, this was a group activity and a division of labour would make things easier on them both.

"Right son, you sit in the chair and watch the cameras. I'll keep an eye on the doors," said his dad whilst standing behind the chair. "Let's see if I still know how to do this."

Mike nodded and brought up the stage camera. They looked like they just finished conferring and took their positions. They all stood still with the camera on them. He switched to check on Pirate's Cove, but Foxy was still behind his curtain. Back to the stage and Bonnie was gone. Mike saw her hurry through the dining room and into backstage. She winked up at the camera.

Mike checked back to the stage. Chica was gone too. The sound of her knocking into a table sounded through the audio pickup, along with her apologies and her moving it back.

"I take it they're on the move?" his dad asked, trying to peer over Mike's shoulder. "That sounded like Chica."

"You're right. She just entered the dining area. Bonnie's backstage and Freddy's still on stage. Foxy's in Pirate Cove."

"Right. Keep me posted."

Mike nodded and returned to watching the cameras. He kept an eye on Bonnie and Chica, who appeared to be silently communicating across the room with Bonnie peering through the door every now and again when he checked on her. They looked like they were up to something but he couldn't think of what.

"Tell me again where they all are," requested his dad only about twenty seconds later.

"Still the same. Bonnie's backstage, Freddy's onstage, Chica's in the dining room, Foxy's… crud." Mike saw the curtains parted. "Foxy's coming out."

"He is? Did you watch him enough?" he asked.

"I-I'm sure I did," replied Mike. "My last check was only a few seconds ago."

"Hmm, he can be a little crafty sometimes. He can come out if he's watched too much or too little." There was a moment of silence. "Hand me the monitor, Mike. Might be best if I keep watch on them."

"Huh? A-Alright then." Mike gave him the monitor and standing up, feeling a little disappointed. "I uh, guess I'll watch the doors then?"

"Sounds good," murmured his dad, sliding into the seat. "Now, you stay right there, Foxy… and where are you hiding, little rabbit?"

Mike sighed while he glanced from the left door to the right. Every now and again, he heard a noise and would check, usually finding nothing. He might see a flash and flinch for the door, but again it would be nothing.

He didn't like doing this without the monitor. He'd try to glance at it over his dad's shoulder, but he was so immersed in it that Mike could barely even see the flicker of static when the camera view changed.

Mike flinched when he heard footsteps. Very faint on the right side. He pressed the light button and just saw a pair of ears vanish below the window. He struck by indecision for a moment. What was Bonnie doing on Chica's side? A quick look left exposed something yellow slip past into the space just next to the door.

Mike only just processed the thought to close both doors when he jumped at the sound of both of them slamming down. His dad smiled triumphantly at his efforts.

"Oh, so they're making things more interesting for me tonight, are they?" He chuckled. "Sorry, ladies. You're going to have to do much better than that to one-up me."

"Uh, dad? I thought-"

"Sorry, Mike, talk later. Right now, I need to focus," he murmured.

"Oh… okay…"

This was starting to feel like the end of his tether. Not for losing his temper or something like that, but Mike just felt redundant now. His dad was capable of watching both sides and the monitor and knew about tricks they might try and pull that Mike hadn't been around long enough to see. And he was just so absorbed.

He looked at his watch. It was still an hour before he finished his shift but for the first time since working here, he felt like leaving early.

"Hey uh, dad?" His only response was a grunt. "Here's the keys to unlock the door tomorrow. I'll… I'll be at home, I'm kind of tired. You can… keep an eye on things here. See you."

He left them on the desk and walked out of the right door, hearing it shut a moment later. He thought he heard someone say his name, but he'd already left through the back door.

Mike walked sullenly away from Freddy's into the cold night. The streets were completely silent, with barely anyone around. For the moment, he was tempted to turn back around and go back but he knew there was no point. He was just getting in the way and he felt like a fifth wheel tonight anyway. They'd have fun without him.

As he walked down the street in the direction of his apartment, he couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched. He glanced behind him and thought he saw someone dressed in a hoodie following not too far behind him. He kept his eyes straight ahead and walked a little faster.

When he neared the corner, another one with a hoodie came from the next turning and started making his way towards Mike. Starting to get worried now, he made to cross the street only to see two more come from the corner opposite and from sitting on a bench by the road.

Panicking now, Mike turned tail and made tracks down an alleyway. He immediately regretted it when he heard quick footsteps getting closer behind him. He broke into a light jog and almost crashed into a bin trying to get out of the alley as quickly as possible. He wondered if he couldn't double back to Freddy's.

But his heart stopped when another came out from behind a dumpster. The four behind him had stopped now and cut off his escape back the way he came. He was trapped. There seemed to be only one option left open.

"Wh-Who are you guys?" Mike stammered. "L-Look, I-I don't want any t-trouble. J-Just take m-my wallet, th-there's n-n-not much in it but I…"

"Calm down. We're not here for your money and we're not going to hurt you," the one who was in front of him assured. "We just want to talk."

"R-Right. Sure," Mike said cautiously. "O-Okay."

"Good." The guy took off his hoodie and mask, revealing a plain looking guy with a shaven head. "There. That better? I don't want you to feel intimidated. We only want you to be as open as possible with us."

"Uh huh." Mike glanced around at the rest of them, still cutting off his route of escape. "Right."

The guy followed Mike's gaze and smiled apologetically. "I know this looks bad, but we had to make sure we could talk to you without their suspicion. My name is Daniel Fairchild. What's yours?"

"Uh… M-Mike Schmidt," he answered. "Look, um, what's this about? I was really hoping to j-just go home."

"And we'll let you. We just want to have a little talk first," said Daniel. "Just a few moments of your time to listen to our proposition then, whatever your answer, you can go off home. I promise."

"I-I really don't have the t-time," stammered Mike, looking for some sort of opening. "I-I-I'm really t-tired a-and I've uh, had a late night."

"At Freddy Fazbear's Pizza?" Daniel nodded. "Oh, we know, Mike. That's why we're here to talk to you. Don't feel we won't believe anything you say. Trust us, we've all seen what they're hiding."

"W-What? Wait…" Mike made a quick headcount of them again. "Are you… the old security guards?"

"Very quick, Mike, very quick," praised Dan. "Yes, you're right. Before you worked there, we worked the night shift, if only briefly. We've had our eye on that restaurant and on you for quite a while."

"I remember… there was someone watching me on the corner when I left a few days ago. A-and someone bumping into me asked if I worked at Freddy's," he added. "That was y-you?"

"Yes. Stewart there was the one who bumped into you. We had to make certain of who you were first." He motioned to one in a blue hoodie. "And the one watching you was Ernest, who assured me that he hadn't been spotted."

One slightly portly guy in a green hoodie shuffled a bit.

"We've all come together for the purpose of exposing whatever it is Freddy Fazbear's are hiding. Which is where you come in, Mike." He smiled comfortingly. "I imagine they've done quite a bit to modify the contract since we all quit to keep you as tied down as they could. I don't know how you've lasted this long, but you're a very brave man, Mike."

"It's uh… wait, what do you all think goes on there?" asked Mike.

"We all have our theories," a woman's voice piped up. "We all think it's something to do with some reason that means they need to keep them turned on and wondering around. They employ a night guard so they don't try and wonder out."

"But see the thing is, their AI is faulty so they mistake guards as intruders," put in another one. "They try to escort them away, but they get too rough."

"Nah, screw that," said the one called Stewart. "They're not trying to escort you away. The thing that makes their heads screwy just makes them wanna kill anyone they find after dark. During the day, they're not allowed but they hire guards to keep them entertained at night, so they perform during the day."

"I-I heard rumours," spoke up Ernest, "that some kids went missing and they-"

"Aw come on, Ernie," moaned Stewart. "Not that dumb ghost crap again."

"It's just what I think…"

"Anyway," Daniel interrupted, "at this point we only have theories. Nothing concrete. But you could help us, Mike. I know this is asking a lot of you, but you could act as our inside man. You could finally give us a look at the real goings on at Freddy's. They'll find it hard to dispute it then. What do you say?"

Mike hadn't really been expecting this. But despite how he felt right now, he knew what his answer would be.

"L-Look, Daniel," he began, "I get what you guys are trying to do. B-But I um… I'm just not interested."

"Mike, I already told you that you don't have to be scared of them acting against you," he reassured. "With your help and our efforts, we'll make sure they can't do a thing."

"But I don't want to help," Mike insisted. "I-I'm just not interested. Really, I'm not. I know it looks bad to you all, but it really isn't like what you think."

"Really?" Daniel looked interested. "So, you do know what's going on?"

"Um… sort of…" muttered Mike.

"Then tell us." He took a few steps closer. "That's all we want to know. What is it that they're hiding? What do they have you doing exactly? What does it have to do with those things?"

"I um… I can't t-tell you," replied Mike. "L-Look, I have to go-"

"But you have to tell us," he insisted, his voice becoming harder. "You're the only one who can. Tell us what we want to know, Mike and you can go."

"Y-You said you'd l-let me go after I l-l-listened to you, w-whatever my answer was." Mike tried to sidestep him. "I just want to get home-"

"No." Daniel held out an arm and grabbed his shirt. Mike didn't like that look in his eyes. "You will tell me what I want to know. Right now."

Mike's heart was pounding. Here he was late at night, in an isolated area, seriously outnumbered by these guys. He desperately tried to think of a way he could get out of this. He considered trying to fight, but he'd never thrown a punch in his life. He opened his mouth to call for help but Daniel clamped his hand over it.

"No!" He looked almost crazed now. "I want you to tell me what you know. Now!"

Another hand gripped Daniel's shoulder. They both looked to see a guy with an orange hoodie, wearing glasses giving him a stern look. Daniel looked at him, then back at Mike. He spent a long time doing it.

Then, to Mike's utter relief, he let him go. He hurriedly scrambled away, vaguely hearing Daniel telling the others to let him go and ran as fast as he could away from them. He slowed down when his chest began to ache and power walked through the streets, sticking to the main roads now and making it back to his apartment.

Needless to say, Mike got a very uneasy sleep that night.

Slightly longer than usual. Ain't I nice?

Kliff: No. That's my final word on the matter. And please don't use your reviews to convey messages to each other.

Alexis: I'm glad you think so. These personalities practically make them OCs anyway. And thanks again for always reviewing.

1OneHuman: Don't worry about it, we all have other commitments. Thanks for taking the time to read and review anyway, much appreciated.

AllergyRelief: I am… receiving mixed messages from this review XD

Hope to join me next time.

Be strong, be swift, be just.