Ever since Fazbear installed the new intercom system, used to make prize announcements and service calls to the front desk, both Mike and Jeremy wait anxiously every evening for management to bid them goodbye.

Jeremy's alone in the locker room, Mike having excused himself for some undisclosed reason. Buttoning up his shirt, the nightwatch restrains a giggle when he hears static break through and echo throughout the pizzeria, a familiar voice coming over the intercom:

"Attention all Fuckboys! I ain't afraid of your whack ass robot shit you pull every night, so take your traditions and rules and shit and shove it all up your metal ass!" The intercom clicked, just reactivate a split second later: "And leave Fucksgerald alone while you're at it!"

There was the sound of something crashing, maybe a chair or something tipping over before the announcement cut off suddenly. Jeremy's laughter is so loud, Mike can hear him all the way from the front office.

Mike gently placed his palm on the back of Jeremy's neck, holding the nightwatch closer. Said teen's breathing was erratic, blood pulsing fast through his veins, his rib cage threatening to explode.

The security guard's touch, however, had a strangely counter effective on the panic rising in the nightwatch. Mike lent down, pressing his cheek into Jeremy's shoulders, one hand on the back of his head, shifting in the embrace to place the other on the brunette's chest, intent to try and calm down the teen's heart pace to a much more comfortable level.

Jeremy did not take his first Golden Freddy hallucination very well.

"I don't get why we gotta do stupid shit like this, we're not maintenance." Mike groans, watching carefully as the brunette climbed the ladder. "Management can do this"

Jeremy frowned down at him from above, doing his best to keep his balance. "We need the light tonight. What if it b-blinked out in the middle of our shift?" He steadied himself, unscrewing the light fixture cover and holding it to the side. He reached a hand down. "Light bulb, please."

Rolling his eyes, Mike steps forward to hand said object over. "Careful, dork" Jeremy leaned a bit more outwards, fingers brushing against the offering. "I'm fine-"

To counter the argument, the ladder suddenly tipped over, Jeremy's shifted weight too heavy on one side for it to stand. He gave a startled yelp as the ladder toppled over, taking him with it.

Instead of hitting the cold hard tile, he gives a little 'oof'' as he fell back onto something firm instead, a much better cushion.

Mike's back slammed onto the floor, making sure to keep the brunette tucked securely in his grasp. He sounded an irritated groan, clutching the teen much tighter as if it would further his attempt to shield him from harm. "Fucking hell, Jeremy..." He caught his breath, "Are you hurt?"

Jeremy simply peered up from the security guard's chest, staring thoughtfully past his grasp. He spots a pile of shard glass and frowned. "The light bulb broke"

He tries to hide it, tries to ignore the brain damage and it's consequence; and surprisingly enough, he finds it very easy, especially since people usually made their own assumptions on him first hand based on his temper.

But there are somethings he can't hide. Jeremy knows he can't work certain household appliances, that social norms can't bend and hold simply for him, that his 'Blanks' have the capability to turn him into something he's not. Or to remind him that he already is.

He watches Mike accidentally pull the locker door from it's hinges, the guard cursing under his breath as he fumbled to reattach it. Either he underestimated his strength, or overestimated the locker's durability, either way, the hinges were ripped beyond repair.

Jeremy just tilts his head and smiles. "I can help you fix that"

Mike glances over his shoulder, sticking his tongue out. "I don't need your help"

Just another moment that proved to him that despite the odds, no matter how insignificant or important the matter at hand was, Mike was still the stubborn asshole as always, brain damage or not.

This is probably the fourth time in the last ten minutes that the security guard has caught himself staring at the nightwatch in the same dopey, dazed out gaze dogs would get when they're drooling over a bone.

Mike scratched his head, confused with himself. We're they both sick? Maybe there was something on his face. He runs a hand down from his forehead to his chin, frowning when that provided no answer. Strange, the urge to keep his eye on the nightwatch with no clear explanation, that his mind didn't want to run over anything else other than Jeremy.

It made him sneer. "Can you stop that?"

Jeremy looked up from the tablet, baffled. "S-stop what?"

"That" Mike repeated, gesturing fully towards him. "Stop this. It's distracting."

The brunette raised a brow before shrugging. Mike was in a bad mood, probably. Anything is annoying to him at that point. Hell, if some one so much as breathed the same air as him, he'd take it as harassment. Better to just let him simmer, Jeremy thinks, he's probably sleep deprived anyway.

Mike bites his lip when Jeremy returns to the tablet, brushing a stray lock of hair behind his ear.

They say when you die, your life flashes before your very eyes. All the memories; good, bad, forgotten, cherished are relived. All you have to do is blink..

Mike blinks. Then he blinks again. and again. and again. Strange, he still feels alive, and not because the visuals are changing. They're all so full of life.

Maybe if he survives the springs, he can figure out why the only memories that rushed through him consist of emerald eyes and innocent laughter.

In a world where a violet tyrant ruled over an army of ghoulish children and their metal toys, Jeremy dreams of a following a golden rabbit to a house of wire and bone. In the middle of the room is a man leaned back in his chair, a stitched top hat his most adoring feature, hiding his eyes.

Jeremy approaches the man cautiously, giving weary glances to his surroundings. Maybe he should say hello? Or ask where he was? Or maybe he should run; the icy blue that peered up from the shadow of the hat sent chills down his spine. Though, his fear was easily overcome with his curiosity.

The hatter's eyes flashed a grim dark color as he invited the boy to take a seat, a coy grin settling upon his face.

Mike frowned, swatting the insect away as it fluttered around his head. He didn't care for butterflies; no matter how pretty or 'majestic' they seemed. They were more like pest than anything.

As if displeased with rejection, delicate wings flutter away, off to a much more preferable destination: Jeremy's nose.

The security raised a brow, stiffing a smirk as the nightwatch went stiff, frozen and staring wide eyed at the wings fluttering on the front of his face. Blinking, he shakes his head to send it off, but the butterfly only flattens it's wings to steady itself.

Mike laughs whist Jeremy looks to him with pleading eyes. "H-help..."

Mike has never in his entire lifetime been in public without some sort of headgear on hand. He's always had his beanie, or maybe a bandanna, a base ball cap or even a security cap would suffice.

But now, he's stuck on a hour long subway ride with a certain brunette fast asleep on his shoulder, and some snot nosed kid that won't stop hassling him. Oh, and did he mention the brat had his cap?

Mike glares at him from his spot on the seat, having half a mind to lean forward and snatch it back. But the kid's standing more than a foot's worth away, and any outwards movement would probably wake Jeremy. Not the best idea.

"So....where's your hair?" The kid titled their head, eyeing the guard's head. Mike sneered, "I'm not bald, if that's what your implying."

"Watcha got them for?" The child interrupts, clutching the stolen cap tighter as he pointed an accusing finger at the security guard's stitches. "Didja get em in a fight or something?"

Mike glanced around the train car; an old woman with a newspaper, a jogger with earphones in his ears and what looked to be the mother, too busy with her phone to notice what her child was doing.

No one was paying attention yet, and he'd like to keep it that way. Though, if he called for the mother, it would attract some kind of attention. There was no winning against this kid.

He rose his free arm, placing his hand on the top of his head. "I might have" He responded, watching the kid's face light up in curiosity. He didn't have an actual explanation for the scars, so supposedly his answer was as good as any other.

"Really?" The child beamed. "Who didja have to fight to get em? Were they strong? Did they beat you? Or did you win? Was it hard? Did you use lazers? Or swords? Or maybe guns or super strength or heat vision or-"

"Kid, I think you're over thinking yourself." Mike interrupted, correcting the child's assumptions. "I'm not some super hero, aight? They don't exist-"

"So you're a villain?" The child frown, crossing their arms. The dissatisfaction on their face was evident, and Mike felt a sense of unease as they held the cap even further away.

They took a step back, ready to retreat to their mother. "You're the bad guy...."

Mike opened his mouth to protest, but someone else beat him to it. "Mike's not a bad guy...H-he's saved me a bunch of times, you know?"

The child's gaze switched from blue to meet green, a sleepy Jeremy snuggled into the older man's shoulder. "He's a big meanie sometimes, but that's just because h-he needs naps."

"Like you?" The child inquired. Jeremy laughed. "Y-yeah...kinda like me"

Blue eyes darted from the nightwatch back to the kid, silently wondering as to where this conversation was going. "He's a meanie sometimes, l-like now, but that's just because he's tried and c-cranky from fighting all the time" Jeremy smiles, his hand slipping to intertwine with Mike's.

There's a coiling feeling in Mike's chest and a heat rising to his cheek that he really wished he had to cap to hide; still possessed by the heavily intrigued child still. Green eyes dart down to the head wear, tilting his head in silent understanding.

"Superheros need to keep their identity secret, right?"

The child put a thumb on their chin, as if they were dramatically thinking. "That's what cartoons do..." They pondered out loud, glancing thoughtfully down at the cap. Sighing, they stepped forward and placed it gently in Mike's lap, an apologetic expression spreading across their features.

"M' sorry, mister..." The child looked up with puppy eyes, "I won't tell anyone, promise!"

Mike gave a low level sneer, swiping up the cap and placing it on his head. "You better not, or I just might have to become the villain..."

He inwardly grinned as the child gave a little squeak, retreating back to the comfort zone of their mother's presence. Jeremy's figure shifted beside him, rolling his eyes. "I wonder why children flock around you so much..."

"Maybe because it's their life goal to make my life miserable."

He felt a playful, feeble punch to his arm. "They like you, you know." Jeremy smiled. Mike snorted, curling his arm back around the nightwatch. "They have a funny way of showing it. Go back to sleep, we still have another hour to wait."

Jeremy spun in his combination, swinging open his locker and pulling out a crumbled paper brown bag. Opening it up, he peered inside. Contents were the usual his mother made for him, a sandwich or a fruit cup or whatever wouldn't spoil kept in confinement of his locker for a few hours.

Pulling out the fruit cup, the nightwatch sat on the bench. It was early morning, probably around 7. Mike was in the showers freshening up, probably best not to bother him. Which was fine, Jeremy didn't have the chance to eat breakfast much anyway. Not with school and his shift being so dreadfully brutal on his sleeping schedule.

He's about to stuff a grape in his mouth when something wet drips on his shoulder. "Grapes are disgusting"

Jeremy whips around, pouting at the security guard's smart remark. "Well, I like them" He defended. "You're also still wet, y-you should have dried off completely before getting dressed, Mike"

The older man rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You're nagging again."

He walks over and pulls a towel down from a top shelf, drying himself off before tossing it to the side. Jeremy frowns at the discarded article, sparing Mike a glance as he settled down by the nightwatch. "You're not good with m-manners..."

"No, I'm not" Mike chuckles, peering down into the remains of Jeremy's lunch bag. "You plan on sharing?"

"I thought you said you hated g-grapes."

"I do, but I'm hungry as fuck." He countered, sighing when the nightwatch simply rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Jere, I've been eating pizza all damn year."

Jeremy huffed, poking the bag towards Mike's direction. "I d-didn't say you couldn't have any."

His pout dropped when Mike prompt took the remains and dumped the grapes in his hand, shoving them into his mouth. "I was g-going to eat some of those..."

The security guard looked comical, cheeks puffed out from the unchewed grapes still sitting on his tongue. With an irritated groan, he stuck a finger in his mouth and pulled out a grape, only to have Jeremy squeal in shock when it's shoved not-so-mannerly into his mouth.

Jeremy's tongue brushes over Mike's finger before he could process the situation, swallowing the grape before a second thought. "W-what was that?" He coughed, "That was in your m-mouth!"

The older man shrugged. "So? I don't have cooties or whatever."

"But...that..."

Mike raised a brow at the stutter, unimpressed with the the teen's conflict. He scanned over flushed skin, watching the pink flow from the tip of Jeremy's nose to the ends of his ears. Swallowing back down the last of his mouthful, something clicked inside his defective mind. Right, so he may have just made a mistake...

He pressed his lips together in a thin line. "Why are you so worked up about an 'indirect kiss?' What, would you like a real one instead?" He taunted. "You're too easy to rile up, Jeremy"

The nightwatch bit his lip, scooting a few inches away for good measure. Wordlessly, he pulled the sandwich out of the bag and took a bite of it, lost for words and cheeks still blaring. Childish green eyes glared at him mid-chew, unable to think of a retort.

Mike eyed the sandwich and smirked. "Gonna share?"

"No!"

When the shift was slow and it was ticking closer to 6AM, the both of them would allow their guard down, if only for a few moments.

Mike's flickering through the cameras, quietly noting the animatronic's locations, holding his thumb over the remote controlled music box. It's' a quiet Monday night, no real danger presented itself so far. The dim lighting was soothing and so was the hum of his coworker, who was supposed to be in charge of the flashlight tonight.

He looks up from the screen in thought of the nightwatch, expecting to see the brunette concentrating down the hallway or keeping a close eye on the opposite vents. Instead, he finds something a lot more innocent.

Jeremy's tired head is laid down on the desk, his chin propped upwards so he faced the opposite wall. With the flashlight shining brightly against the wallpaper, Mike watches him put two hands in front of the light and cast a shifting shadow.

He remains quiet, leaving Jeremy to think he hasn't been noticed yet. Small fingers curl around each other to form a rabbit, hopping in the air. Then it's a bear, and now a fox. He casts what Mike assumes to be some sort of duck before forming a cat, ears tilting and mouth opening and closing for soft little mews.

He doesn't realize Mike is watching until he hears the rolling chair scoot over, another pair of hands joining the puppet show. Jeremy freezes, his fingers still casting the shadow of a cat as another joined it, this time, the shadow of what looked to be a mangled dog.

Mike fumbles with his fingers a bit before getting it correct, a soft smirk on his face as the larger shadow joined the smaller one. After a moment of lightheartedness, Jeremy watches the wolf softly nip at the kitten, a warmth brushing against his palm.

"Stop goofing off," Mike ordered, trace of a smile still on his face. "Unless you're willing to show Marionette your puppet tricks, you've gotta keep your eye on the vents, got it?"

Nodding, Jeremy allows his shadow to playfully hiss at Mike's, picking up the flashlight and returning to business.

"Fuck no! Get that shit away from me!"

The doctor stumbled backwards, needle in hand while his patient thrashed about. Mike glared at him from his trapped spot, more hands coming to hold him down by the arms. "You can't sedate me!"

Catching his breath, the doctor held his hands up in surrender. "Please, Mr. Schmidt, this is entirely necessary. You have metal shards embedded in your stomach and you're losing blood quickly...we have to operate now-"

"Don't come fucking near me!" Mike growled, attempting to shake off a nurse in vain. The blood loss should have made his head feel light and his limbs slack, but the threat of being trapped inside a hospital again was sending enough adrenaline through his system to fight the pain. "I'm not sleeping in a hospital again, ever! You fucking understand?!"

He jerks his torso to the side in an attempt to escape, only to wheeze as pain shot through his nerves. Foxy must be proud of himself, he thinks, for having caught him at the worst moment.

Jeremy's cowering in the corner of the emergency room, unharmed, thankfully, but consumed with panic and concern. "L-let them do it, Mike..." He tries to reason, voice cracking under the tension. "It's going to h-hurt a lot worse if you do it without anesthetic..."

"Then forget it! Pull them out, I'll live! I don't give a shit about how it's done, just as long as I'm awake, dammit!" Mike sneers, "None of you have any right holding me here!"

"Y-your life is in d-danger, Mike!"

"I don't fucking care" He spits, cold ice glaring into each and everyone in the room. "I'll kill one of you before I let you put me back in a coma"

Jeremy could have sworn blue eyes flashed black. "That's not-!"

A hand pulled him away from the older man, turning him out of hearing range. Mike's attention diverted from the nightwatch to the employees in white, cursing and thrashing all the same.

The doctor bent down to Jeremy's level, speaking to him in hushed, hurried tones. "Unless you have a method to calm your friend down, it's best if you leave. We might have to resort to desperate measures to sedate him."

Jeremy's throat was going raw with worry, eyes widening in realization. "Please, he just r-really hates hospitals, ok? He's scared of....f-falling back into a c-coma and I...uh" His mind went blank, caught up in the commotion happening behind him. "Isn't there anything e-else we can do-?"