Disclaimer: All I own are Mike's parents, Summer, and a couple other secondary characters

A/N: If any of my readers were unfortunate enough to grow up in abusive households, I apologize in advance if this chapter brings up any bad memories.

I was woken up at 12:23 in the afternoon by the ringing of my bedside phone. I reached out with my left hand to answer, putting the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked

"Hey, Mike?" My eyes widened a little at the voice.

"Summer?" I asked. "How did you get my number?"

"Fritz gave it to me." She answered. "She said she thought you needed to talk to humans more." I could hear the concern in her voice as she asked

"Mike, what does that mean? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." Saw a guy get torn apart last night, but I'm fine.

"Well, I've been talking to our teachers." Summer said. "About the possibility of you coming back next semester. I wanted to see if they'd give you another chance."

"Uh…why?" I asked, trying not to sound ungrateful.

"Well, to tell you the truth…" Summer paused. "I like you, Mike. I know we didn't talk much, but I liked being in class with you, hearing your jokes and seeing the way you never took any crud from anyone…"

"Did Fritz put you up to this?" I asked, cutting her off. I wasn't used to girls liking me. Like, actually liking me.

"No Mike, I'm being serious!" I could hear the laughter in her voice. For a goth, she sure was chipper. "Besides, don't you remember how during the job fair, you said you wanted to be a pediatrician? To help kids?"

"…yeah."

"Well, you need a degree to do that, right? To become a licensed doctor? I think you should give the college thing a second shot. If not for me, then for the sick kids you'll help in the future."

"You make a good point, Miss Ling." I said, turning over onto my back.

"I'm not going to push you, but you should still give it some thought." Summer continued. "We don't want you to waste your talents now."

"I already have one mom, Summer." I deadpanned. "I don't need a second one." More laughter.

"I'll see you around, Mikey." A click, and the line went dead.

"Mikey..." I said out loud. "No one has called me that since I was ten."

As I showered and dressed, I thought about the information Ian had given me last night concerning his friends. Hope's defining trait was her kindness-her generous nature, and bright smile, and the way her eyes lit up when she got excited…I'm not really sure, but I guessed that he had a little crush on her. Or at least he had, before she became a chicken robot.

Then there was Tricia. As the leader of their little group, she was brave and confident, a total tomboy through and through. Whenever they were playing games or exploring, she'd always go right on ahead, a determined look on her face. I supposed that's why she was the first one to move when I started working the night shift. Follow the leader. The scary-as-hell purple bunny leader.

Finally, Travis was a cocky show-off. He was only two minutes younger than Tricia, but he had a serious little brother complex. He always had to try and show her up-and everyone else, as well. Heck, if someone got a scab on their knee, Travis would intentionally try and go get a bigger one, just so he could show that off. Also, he sometimes teased Ian just to prove how 'manly' he was compared to him. I had to stop myself from chuckling as I remembered the things Ian said about him. I could now add 'Foxy pouting' to the list of things I never thought I'd see. Kind of weird that Freddy would be the last to move given Travis' show-offy attitude, but then again, as I had to remind myself, he didn't really want to kill me. None of them did. If only I could cut the strings Melody had them on-and now I had a pretty good idea how to do it…

"Shutting down?! What do you MEAN we're shutting down?!" I stopped pulling my shirt on halfway as I heard my dad's yells.

"Bankrupt?! NO!" I slowly, carefully, pulled my shirt on the rest of the way. I got the feeling it would be best to avoid the old man for a while…

I'd just grabbed the brush to try and tame my hair, when the inevitable happened.

"Mike! Get your ass down here!" I put the brush aside, trying to stop my hands from shaking. I'd hoped that the call would've lasted a bit longer, so I could finish getting dressed and sneak out before he noticed. Looked like that was out of the question, though. I stepped out of the bathroom and walked downstairs swiftly, but cautiously.

My dad was sitting in the big armchair, his black hair askew, his right hand covering his eyes. Next to him, the phone was off its cradle. I opened my mouth to try to say something, but he beat me to it.

"Twenty years, Mike. That's how long I've been at this job. Twenty. Years. It wasn't the best job in the world, but it put bread on the table. And now…" He sighed, and I stared at him.

"I'm sorry, Dad." I said quietly. "But I-I've got somewhere to go now, I have to…"

"You're not going anywhere." My dad finally moved his hand from his face. His brown eyes were bloodshot as he glared at me. "Mike, do you know what else today is?"

My heart stopped.

Oh crap. I'd forgotten.

Should've been faster. I chided myself. Should've gotten out while I could… With that, and my dad getting sacked, I just knew he'd use me as a verbal, and possibly physical, punching bag.

He let out a humorless chuckle.

"We were so young, your mother and I. In our senior year of highschool, me with a promising football scholarship and her the captain of debate team. It was only one night. That was all it was supposed to be."

A lump formed in my throat.

"How was I supposed to know that she'd just finished her period? How was I supposed to know that I was her first? How was I supposed to know that her dad had a shotgun-and that he'd threaten me with it if I didn't marry her?" He shook his head.

"I actually had a girlfriend, y'know. She was so beautiful. And all my friends on the football team. I haven't heard from them in years. They must've had such great lives after graduation. And me…I don't even have a job anymore."

With every word he said, I felt colder and colder. I'd heard this story before countless times-the story of how I ruined Dad's life just by being born. At this point, I was pretty much numb to it.

But Dad wasn't done yet.

"And what's my son doing with his life? Working at a crappy pizza place watching a bunch of cheesy robots all night long. It really speaks volumes when you've failed so much that even your damn kid is a useless screw-up."

Suddenly, something inside me snapped.

"Shut. Up."

His head shot up, his eyes slowly starting to fill with anger. I had no idea what came over me. The words came out before I had a chance to stop myself. Balling my hands into fists, I gave my dad a cold, steely look.

"Nineteen years is long enough, Dad." I told him, my voice deathly quiet. "My whole LIFE you've been telling me what a disappointment I am, how you regret that I was ever born. Well guess what-that wasn't my fault, it was yours."

I glared at him, hoping I looked braver than I felt.

"And for the record, I happen to like my job. At least I got it on my own." I narrowed my eyes at him. "I didn't have to beg like a dog so my father-in-law would take me on. And even if I didn't finish college, I..."

"You think you're better than me, you bastard?!" My dad was on his feet now, his eyes like two fireballs. All my confidence from before faded.

"No, no wait. Dad..."

POW.

I went stumbling against the wall, my hand flying to my left eye, where he'd hit me. Before I could collect my senses, he grabbed a handful of my hair, wheeling me back over so he could yell in my face.

"YOU THINK YOU'RE SOMETHING SPECIAL?! YOU THINK YOU'RE SOMEONE?!" He shook me roughly, and I felt a few hairs part from my scalp. "WELL YOU'RE NOTHING, YOU HEAR ME?! NOTHING!" He threw me roughly to the ground, then kicked me in the stomach.

"Dad…!" I choked out again, finding it difficult to breathe.

"Me, hell, I could've been someone if it wasn't for you! I could've finished school, I could've married the girl of my dreams, I could've gotten a great job if you'd never been born! My life would've gone a hell of a lot better if only your mother had aborted you like I told her to!" With every pause, he kicked me again and again, and my eyes filled with tears I thought I was no longer capable of producing.

"Dad!"

"But no." He was no longer shouting or kicking me, though he was still looking at me like I was something nasty he'd stepped in. (Which, in his mind, I probably was) "Now I'm stuck with you. The biggest mistake I ever made."

I scrambled to pull myself up and stumbled back upstairs to my room, not able to stop myself from crying the whole way up. It wasn't a pretty picture-me sobbing grossly like that. I was just grateful that Mom wasn't home. Or Fritz…she didn't even know about this.

I flung my bedroom door open and flopped onto my bed, hugging my pillow close to me.

Stupid.

That's all I was. Stupid and pathetic for letting my father have so much power over me, to the point that I was STILL afraid of him when I was nineteen years old. I'd let him tell me so many bad things about myself, yell at me, hit me, and the only person I'd told wasn't even alive anymore. I was broken beyond repair, a damaged shell of a person, and it was my own fault. Because abusive and manipulative or not, he was still my father, and he had power over me. With no one to see me, I buried my head in the pillow, shaking with sobs of anger and grief.

Why should I be afraid of a few possessed animatronics? I thought bitterly. The worst monster of all is always waiting for me at home.

A/N: Yeah, that was upsetting. Sorry about that. Well, now you know the whole reason Mike turned out the way he did. Don't worry though, he'll get his comeuppance-though I'm afraid that won't be for a little while. Also, I'm afraid this might be the last update for a little while, since I go back to college next week, and I have to focus on getting ready-as well as other stuff.

Anyway, Mike still has to focus on saving the kids first. Though if enough people like, I can write a 'bonus chapter' or whatever where you can come up with all sorts of creative ways to torture Victor Schmidt :) I shall require reviews first, though. Do it. Please?