Chapter fifteen: The man in charge

Trying to ignore the cold rainfall that drenched him, Douglas intentionally kept his pace slow as he walked down the street. A few people hastily shoved past him on their way to work, and cars drove through the streets, sending tiny drops of water floating like a fog.

It was a choice for him; either reach his destination early, or get as cold and wet as the rain could make him. Neither option was appealing, but he'd rather take the rain. Griffiths seemed to have faith in him, not realizing just how misplaced that faith was.

Regardless, despite his slow pace and the rain, by the end of it he inevitably found himself in front of the all-too-familiar door. He took a breath, once again repeating the many different scripts and scenarios he'd considered in his head, then raised his hand.

He paused, then knocked.

Soon it opened, and a middle-aged man greeted him.

"Hey, Dad," Douglas said quietly.

Nicholas Goodwin looked up at his son. His expression of surprise was soon replaced with his usual stern, somewhat haughty look. Nicholas stepped to the side, allowing Douglas free passage.

Douglas entered. In an instant, the rainfall was replaced by stuffy, dusty air. The small corridor wasn't much brighter than the dark sky.

With a deathly silence, he untied his shoes, feeling Nicholas' eyes in his back the whole time. Nothing he wasn't used to. He set his shoes aside and passed through the door ahead.

The living room was just as warn and stuffy as the corridor, but at least it was a little brighter and more welcoming. To his right, he spotted the all-too-familiar couch and armchair, centered around a coffee table and facing the television on the wall. To his left he found the kitchen, where a woman with dark blond hair glanced back at him.

"Douglas, hello!" she greeted with a smile. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"Hey, Mom," he said quietly.

Her smile shrank. "What's wrong?"

Douglas hesitated. She didn't seem to know about Mortar, then?

"Ria," Nicholas said in the soft voice he only reserved for her. "Could Douglas and I talk for a moment?"

She shrugged. "Sure. So long as I get to listen."

"Ria…" A mild hint of annoyance laced his voice.

She looked at him steadfastly. Then she turned to Douglas.

Douglas nodded. "It's um…something between Dad and me."

"Hmph." She stood up, her gaze suddenly stern. As she walked towards the stairs, she said, "Well, you two better become friends again. I don't want to have to deal with a grumpy gramps for another week."

"Ria."

She chuckled as she started up the stairs. "I'll be up if you need me."

Once she was gone, Douglas turned to Nicholas. "She doesn't know?"

"Of course not," Nicholas scoffed. "She'd demand details, and to know where you worked. As if you dropping out isn't bad enough."

Douglas glanced down. He was pretty convinced his mother wouldn't mind the dropout too much; she'd be more focused on how to help him. Working at a restaurant with anime girls… He wasn't completely sure about that one, but it certainly wouldn't be a disaster. Not like his father seemed to think.

"Are you here to take my offer?" Nicholas said.

Douglas shook his head. "Why are you doing this, Dad?" he said softly.

"Doing what? Looking out for my son?"

"You're…" He glanced to the side. "You're hurting people, Dad. Friends of min—"

"I'm hurting people?"

Douglas flinched at his tone.

Nicholas glared at him with wide blue eyes. "You dropped out of college to waste away at some cartoon restaurant! You distance yourself from your family! You, who showed time and time again that you're smarter than this!" He took a breath. "You forced my hand. I offered you a way back to college and you rejected it in favor of that place without so much as an explanation. That isn't like you, son. If you won't talk to me, of course I'm going to take action."

Douglas looked off to the side. "I told you," he finally said, "I stayed there because my friend needed me."

"Forsaking your own future in favor of someone else's," Nicholas huffed.

Douglas had to close his eyes this time, taking deep breaths to subdue the anger that threatened to rise. It wasn't too hard. He was used to keeping it in, especially around his father.

"I know about the robots, Douglas."

Douglas felt a shock go through him. He looked at Nicholas wide-eyed.

"Detective Mortar told me about the warehouse," Nicholas said. "The animatronics. Those at the restaurant do the same thing, don't they? They still roam around at night…"

Douglas said nothing.

"It's alright, son. Mortar is good at what he does. If anyone can shut that place down—"

"No," Douglas blurted out.

Nicholas furrowed his eyebrows. "No?"

"You can't."

"I think he's capable enough."

"That's not what I meant. I meant…don't do it. Leave them alone."

He shook his head. "Those things are dangerous."

"They never hurt me, they're not a threat—"

"Mortar's experience in the warehouse says otherwise," Nicholas said dismissively.

Douglas sighed quietly. He had been right; if Nicholas took Mortar's word over Douglas', there was no way he could be persuaded to stop.

That left only one other option. One Douglas had been playing with since his talk with Griffiths and Mangle. One he really, really didn't want to use…but if it saved the restaurant, he had to. He had to look out for his friends. He had to take action. And this time, he had to stand fast. Unwavering. For them.

"There's another way," he forced himself to say.

Nicholas looked at him inquisitively.

"I'll give you a deal," Douglas sighed. "But you have to promise to tell Mortar to back off."