Chapter twenty-two: My new job

Nicholas stepped out of his car. The streetlights just about let him recognize Mortar's car nearby, but the detective didn't come out and greet him. Nicholas looked closer to find the vehicle dark and empty.

He grunted as he made his way to the restaurant's front door. Had Mortar gone inside? When the detective called him and said Douglas had gone back to the restaurant, Nicholas had told him to stay put! Well, it didn't matter; he was here now. He hadn't seen or spoken to Douglas since that fight, and now that the boy had returned to this place, it was time for Nicholas to take matters into his own hands.

Surprisingly, the door was unlocked. He entered to be met with an eerily quiet and empty room. Dining tables loomed about, and a curtained stage stared at him from the far wall. There were no janitors like he expected. Was this supposed to be Douglas' shift, then?

"I know you're there, Douglas!" Nicholas bellowed. He glanced at the camera on the ceiling. "Mortar saw you go in here. It's over."

No response. Nicholas waited, but he found himself too impatient to stay put. He briskly headed towards the only corridor he could see. Surely this place couldn't be too big.

As he strode through the hallway—glancing into the dimly lit rooms he passed—he finally found what he was looking for. After turning a corner, he was faced with a smaller room, where Douglas casually sat at a desk. The boy was wearing a poorly-fitting guard outfit. He didn't show a hint of surprise when he saw Nicholas.

Nicholas strode down the hallway. "What do you think you're doing?!" he demanded. "We're leaving right now! I had that detective stop his search because he was done—because you were done. But now…"

He entered the small office and slammed a hand on the desk. Douglas flinched.

"Now," Nicholas said, "I'll have him continue looking and exposing every little dirty secret until this place is brought down!"

Douglas slowly looked up at him.

"Mr. Goodwin," someone else said. "You're harassing my employee."

Nicholas whirled around to see someone else wandering down the hallway. With greying hair, calm and intelligent eyes and a slightly plump build, the suited man's composed stride had an implicit confidence to it.

Nicholas narrowed his eyes. He'd never seen this man before, but he had an idea as to who he was. "Kyle Griffiths."

Griffiths nodded. "You're Douglas' father."

Nicholas examined Griffiths up and down. The shorter man looked back at him calmly. A serene disguise for a dangerous man. No different from Mortar, really.

Nicholas turned back to Douglas with a huff. "We're leaving."

"No," Douglas said quietly.

Nicholas narrowed his eyes.

"I'm afraid Douglas has a job to do," Griffiths said, rounding the desk to stand beside Douglas. "And some people here would be…quite upset…if you tried to take him with you."

Huh. Nicholas had expected the man's threats to be subtler than that. Maybe he just didn't bother with that when no one was around to hear.

Douglas looked down at his desk. Then he slowly stood up and raised his gaze to meet Nicholas'.

"I'm not leaving," Douglas quietly said.

Nicholas held back a sigh. Seemed he still hadn't internalized that he wasn't Griffiths' puppet any longer. "So instead, you'd choose to work as a nightguard in a restaurant, rotting away in some musty office for your upcoming years?" When Douglas said nothing, he continued, "College is the place for you to be."

"That's not your decision to make," Griffiths said.

Nicholas glared at him. The nerve of this man! He opened his mouth to respond.

Then he heard the footsteps. He turned and flinched.

Two yellow eyes floated in the darkness. One of the animatronics. As it moved closer to the light, he noticed dark clothes over crimson skin. A tall woman with mechanical fox emerged from the shadows, glowering down at him.

Nicholas hesitantly looked on as it stopped just a few feet short of the doorway, observing him with those luminous eyes. Nicholas didn't move. It couldn't hurt him. There was no way Griffiths would stay here if those things' killer instincts were active.

"Hmph," it finally said. "I'm guessin' Dougey and his bro got their good looks from their ma, then?"

Nicholas frowned. He hadn't expected it to speak, and certainly not in a tone like that.

He turned to Griffiths. "You had them programmed to insult me? For one night, you had someone program them just to…" He trailed off. If that were true…he must've known Nicholas was coming.

Disturbed, Nicholas looked from Griffiths to Douglas. They both knew. They'd lured him here…?

"Where's Mortar?" he suddenly remembered.

The fox woman behind him chuckled. "I was wonderin' when he'd bring Morty up."

"Mortar is fine," Griffiths added calmly. "I saw him out just before I came here."

"Saw him out?" Nicholas said skeptically. "Meaning?"

"Meaning he's on his way home now."

Sure he was. If that were true, why was Mortar's car still in the driveway?

The fox placed an arm around Nicholas' shoulders. He froze. Was it…supposed to do that? Was it another trick Griffiths had prepared to scare him off?

"Eh, don't worry too much 'bout lil' Morty, Nick," the artificial creature sighed. "His pieces were still attached last I saw him."

"Not sure if that helps, Foxy," Douglas said quietly.

"Sorry, Doug." It removed its arm and turned to lean against the desk, facing Nicholas with eyes that spelled murder. "It's just kinda…surreal…meetin' the man who caused us so much trouble."

Nicholas looked at it hesitantly. He knew it was just a robot, but it seemed so…real. So alive. The anger in its eyes certainly didn't look artificial.

He shook himself. He was getting distracted.

He returned his gaze to Douglas. "You. With me. Now."

"No."

"No? Then I'll have Mortar pick up where he left off. I'll hire other detectives to help him along. I'll contact whoever can help me bring this place to its knees!" He glanced at Griffiths. "Mortar was just the beginning."

"No, you won't," Douglas said.

Nicholas narrowed his eyes.

"Not if I do agree to go back to college."

That elicited a response from everyone. Griffiths and the fox gave him surprised, inquisitive frowns. Douglas turned to look off to the side again. He was never one for social interactions—which was a good thing; how could he ever hope to get a proper job when he let himself get distracted all the time?

"Douglas…" Griffiths said.

"I'll be going back to college," Douglas hastily said, still looking at no one in particular, "and work here."

Now it was Nicholas who frowned. "No."

Douglas looked up at him. A hint of defiance flashed behind his meek eyes. "Why not? Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I don't want you working for him."

The fox huffed. "Workin' for Griffy. Abandon all hope."

Nicholas shot it a look. "Douglas. You're coming with me now, or I will bring this place down."

"You should leave," Douglas said. "You are trespassing…on camera."

"The door was open, yes," Griffiths added, "but given the footage we gained here, not to mention your admittance of hiring Mortar…" His gaze darkened. "I wonder… If our restaurant did get investigated or sabotaged by so many different people, what would a court say when we present our recordings? At the very least, they'd want to know what you were doing here, right?"

Nicholas hesitated. Was that a threat? More importantly, did it hold any substance? So what if the court found out about his dealings with Mortar, or his visit to this place?

Mortar shot the animatronics at the warehouse, he realized. Trespassing, destruction of property… Those things were on Mortar's head, but if the police found out that Nicholas was involved and didn't report them…

Nicholas glared at Douglas. "You wouldn't."

"It's not up to me," he said quietly. "I'm just a nightguard."

Nicholas snarled at Griffiths, whose cold dark eyes glared back unfazed. Nicholas didn't know the man, but he wouldn't put it past him to go to court with this.

And the robot… Yet again, he almost wondered whether it was really fake. Its crossed arms, its tall-standing posture, its yellow eyes that glowered down at him—it was unnervingly human. Nicholas still wondered why Griffiths would go so far as to reprogram it just to intimidate him.

Not that it mattered.

Giving them all one last glare, Nicholas turned and strode away. Hmph. Douglas really seemed to have taken the company's side. Poor boy; Nicholas needed to take some drastic action to make this right. This might just end in court after all, but it didn't matter so long as Nicholas got his son out of there.

As Nicholas made his way through the empty corridors and back to the first room, he realized something was still off. Something didn't quite fit.

He left through the front door. He started towards his car when something caught his eye: a figure, leaning against another car.

He narrowed his eyes. "You!"

Paul Mortar turned his gaze to him. The detective gave a brief smile. "Good evening, Mr. Goodwin."

Nicholas strode over. "What are you doing out here?! You should've been in there!"

"I'm grateful enough Mr. Griffiths didn't report me for storming his warehouse."

Nicholas stared at him. Then he gestured to the restaurant. "My son is still in there. Griffiths is threatening to take me to court. We need to change our strategy."

"We?" Mortar looked back with those piercing, undiscernible eyes of his. "We are finished, Mr. Goodwin."

"What? Are you joking?! My son—"

"Is safe."

"Safe?! When those murder-robots are roaming the place?!"

Mortar gave another empty smile. Then he stood straight. "Mr. Goodwin," he said slowly. "Did you encounter any of these 'murder-robots' inside?"

What did that matter? Yes, he encountered the fox, but…

As if reading his mind, Mortar asked, "Then why are you still alive?"

Nicholas stopped. Then he shook his head. "Doesn't matter. They're still hiding something. You agreed with me on that! I'll rehire you. I'll hire anyone it takes, I'll find something, some…dirt, until they—"

"No."

"No?"

"This restaurant has to stay untouched."

Nicholas frowned. "… What?"

"And if anything happens," Mortar said, "I'll be sure to start a personal investigation to find the root cause…and you will be on the top of my list, Mr. Goodwin."

Nicholas stared at him. The detective had adopted his usual predator-like look, but it was different this time. There was no smile for it to hide behind.

Finally, Mortar stepped inside his car and drove off.

Nicholas watched him go, perplexed. Eventually he returned to his own car, too stupefied to think.

But as he started driving, something stirred again. He knew what it was that felt so off to him when he left the restaurant. Mortar had even brought mention to it.

If Freddy's didn't care about what happened to its guards—or anyone within its walls—then why was he still alive?

Douglas let out a sigh as soon as Nicholas was gone.

Griffiths put a hand on his shoulder. "You did well, Douglas. It's over now."

"Thank you, sir. Uh, you too. And you, Foxy."

Foxy smirked. "I was just there to intimidate 'im. It's no biggie."

"You gave me moral support."

"In any case," Griffiths said. "For the time being, we'll have to watch our backs in case the promise of a lawsuit doesn't scare him off."

Foxy huffed. "Ain't it enough that yer goin' to college, Doug?"

Douglas shook his head. "Not a chance. I'm not too sure about the lawsuit threat, either."

"I'll keep an eye out," Griffiths said. "And…speaking of that college deal…"

"That was all me," Douglas said. "I want to give it a try."

"You know the nightshift will become much harder then, if you want to get any semblance of sleep."

Foxy frowned. "I thought college students only needed like an hour of sleep a night."

Douglas and Griffiths stared at her.

"No? So they're just soldierin' through it?" She looked to Douglas sternly. "Griffy's right; we're goin' to have a long talk 'bout yer workin' hours."

"And your position. But that's for another day," Griffiths said. He passed Foxy and started down the hall. "I hope you don't mind starting your shift early, Douglas?"

"You goin' to give 'im a bonus for that, right?" Foxy said.

"Sure."

"Not a problem, sir," Douglas said. For as much as he himself just got lectured on sleep, Griffiths seemed pretty sleep-deprived too after the Mortar thing. It was probably for the best that he left at a more reasonable time for once.

"Good," Griffiths said. "I'll shutter the windows and lock the door too. And Douglas? I know it has only been a few days, but it's good to have you back."

As he left, Douglas leaned back in his seat. Threatening his father… There was a time, not so long ago, when simply talking back to Nicholas seemed like the most dangerous thing he could do. Now he was threatening to take his father to court? That in itself was a risk; the more you challenged Nicholas Goodwin, the harder he pushed back.

Foxy was smirking at him. "Why're you still sittin' there?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You've barely had the chance to talk to the others since ya got here," she said. "Hearin' the news of you quittin' didn't sit well with us."

He nodded. He'd learned that much.

"So? Get yer ass up and find 'em!" she grinned.

He rose with a chuckle. She was right.

They started down the corridor, their step casual. Douglas felt more relaxed around her than he had in a while. She seemed…more upbeat, today.

He felt pretty optimistic himself. He still had plenty of reservations about Mortar, but at least the detective had promised to stay away. He'd also offered to compensate for the damage he caused in the warehouse—an offer Griffiths had accepted. Nicholas was still active, but now they had something to keep him in check. Douglas grimaced at the idea of threatening his father like that, but at least Griffiths had sworn not to make good on the threat in question without discussing it first.

"Speakin' of which…" Foxy said softly. "Given how you're here now…I'm assumin' quittin' wasn't exactly part of yer plan."

"It was more of a backup plan. It was the only way to make him stop."

"You've been takin' a lot of action lately." She slowed her pace to a halt, staring ahead. "Kind of inspired me, too."

Douglas stopped too. Then he realized she was looking at the Parts and Service door, her eyes holding an unfamiliar wistfulness. Douglas hesitantly observed. Should he say something?

She turned to him. "I might've been a tad harsh on ya lately. Or overbearin'."

"No, no," he said. "I think I needed to hear it."

"Still… I meant what I said; takin' action ain't gonna do any good if yer just gonna end up in the hospital. But, ya know…I didn't give you enough credit for what ya did."

Douglas smiled. He stepped over and gave her a hug.

"Huh," she grunted, smirking. "A hug? What'd I do to earn this?"

They separated. "Just don't tell the others," Douglas said. "Or they'll all want one."

"Ya got it." She faced the door, eyes turning wistful again. "Well…I don't think I'll get the opportunity to anyway."

Douglas frowned. "Foxy…?"

She remained uncharacteristically silent for a moment. "I've got some old friends of me own to visit."

"… You alright?"

She gave him a smile. It had none of its usual mischief. "I'm okay, Dougey. This is just somethin' I gotta do." Her smile grew. "Hey, ya never know; maybe one day, I'll make peace between them and the others."

"I don't doubt that," Douglas softly said.

She let out a chuckle. "Don't get all solemn on me now, Goodwin. And get yer ass to the others; I can't hog you all to meself."

He gave a salute. "Aye, captain."

"Good lad."

As Douglas started away, he thought he could faintly hear the sound of the door behind him squeaking open.