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Once Fritz has a magazine in his hands, there are very few things that can convince him to lower it. The sudden appearance of a mechanical fox intent on his blood? Nope. The sound of something crawling through the vents toward him? Nope. The sound of a window breaking?

That'll do it.

He lifts his eyes from the paragraph he's been staring blankly at for the last hour and picks up the monitor, flicking through the security cameras. He's not as fast as Jeremy, but urgency lends haste to his fingers. Finally, he reaches the dining hall and stops. Some idiot's thrown a brick through one of the windows. The angle won't let him see outside – what kind of security system doesn't let you see outside the fucking building? – but he can hear drunken giggling filtering in through broken glass.

College students on a bender. Fritz stares at the screen in his hands, ignoring the little battery symbol, and silently begs them to leave it at that. It's Mike's first week and Jeremy's been holding his hand the whole time, going as far as sitting in the office on his night off to keep him company or some shit. Which is stupid, 'cause Jeremy went out of his way to be unpleasant to Mike before he took the job, but the only time Fritz brought that little conundrum up Jeremy called him a cold-hearted bastard who's never felt a human emotion in his life.

Fritz is feeling a lot of emotions right now, and he wishes he could just switch them off. Why did the first break-in in months have to happen during Mike's shift?

His cellphone starts vibrating on the table. He snatches it up, flips it open, and accepts the call. It's Jeremy. Big surprise.

“Fritz, back me up here. Mike won't believe the pizzeria's policy on break-ins.”

“Because it's stupid!” Mike says hotly, loud enough that the cell has no trouble picking it up. “Look, I can understand you being scared, but we're security guards! If we're not supposed to secure the area, what are we even doing here?”

Alternately playing bait and babysitter to a bunch of malevolent AI. “Tell Mike that's not important right now. We're not leaving the offices.”

There's a pause while Jeremy does that; Fritz takes the opportunity to put his phone back on the table and take another glance at the monitor. The androids are filtering into the room, stalking between tables with predatory grace. Looking at them, you'd never believe they were made of wires and springs. They're nightmares that came stalking out of some madman's dreams, terrible and beautiful in equal measure.

Bonnie's not there. Probably still hovering in front of Mike's door, wondering if he should abandon his post in the off-chance there might be blood. And then Fritz's attention is being dragged away from the screen by a sudden scream.

“But there's kids out there!”

Jeremy babbles something in response – an excuse, a rationalization, Fritz doesn't care – but Mike steamrolls right over it. Just kids, don't know what they're doing, going to get themselves killed, blah blah blah – Fritz can't even hear Jeremy over the rant. To be honest, he's kind of impressed by Mike's stubbornness. And his work ethic. Never mind the killer robots wandering the building, including the rabbit Fritz knows for a fact has been stalking Mike ever since his first night – he has a job to do!

Fritz sighs and brings the phone back to his ear. “Jeremy, stop. Let me talk to him.”

Jeremy doesn't bother to argue, just hands him over without speaking. He never dealt with break-ins well. Not that Fritz can blame him. Another tap on the monitor shows that almost every android in the building has gathered in the dining hall, all of them staring at that broken window. Their eyes flash eerily in the dark. Maybe it'll be enough to pierce the alcohol-induced haze and spook the kids outside away.

Bonnie's still missing. So are Billy, Mangle, the Marionette, and the Shadows. It's good to know the deadliest and most annoying ones are still on the job.

And then Mike is yelling in his ear. “We have to do something!”

“And what can we do?” Fritz asks bluntly, leaning back in his chair. “They're faster than us, stronger than us, and a hell of a lot better at picking up sounds that aren't supposed to be there. Most of them are gathered in the dining hall right now, but not all of them. We move, they're going to hear, and they're going to rip us limb from limb.”

Mike rallies quickly. “Fine! But there must be some sort of warning we can give them.”

“Like what? This half-assed security system doesn't even have an alarm to set off. The closest thing we've got is the fire alarm, and it's located right outside the supply closet and only right outside the supply closet.”

“But that's–”

“Stupid? Yes. Mean? Also yes. Cheap? You guessed it.” A grim smile starts crawling across Fritz's face. He lets it. “We work for Freddy Fazbear's, Mike. In a contest between saving lives and saving cash, I think we all know which one wins.”

“But... we can't just leave them to the androids.” Mike's not yelling anymore; he's on the verge of tears.

Honesty is the best policy, even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts. “Yes, we can. Because if we don't, we are definitely going to die.”

Mike doesn't answer. The silence stretches on almost a minute before Fritz is half-deafened by a sudden shriek of noise. Did Mike just throw his phone at a wall? Judging by the call's sudden disconnection, the answer is yes. He swears, jerks the phone away from his ear, and turns back to the monitor. A quick cycle through the cameras takes him to the West Hall, and he swears again when he hears one of the office doors slide open.

Bonnie's lurking in the hall, eyeing the creepy-ass drawings. He looks up, eyes narrowed, when Mike skids into the hall. Fritz knows the kid's not that much shorter than him, but he's tiny compared to Bonnie. So small. So breakable. Then Mike squares his shoulders and, in a move stolen straight from Fritz in his more suicidal moments, runs straight toward the android.

Fritz sighs and braces himself for screams and the sound of tearing meat. It doesn't come. Instead, Bonnie steps aside, letting Mike barrel down the West Hall without even a half-hearted attempt at grabbing him. Which is complete and utter bullshit, but Fritz isn't going to point that out. He likes Mike more than he likes the idea of a logical world. He bites his tongue and watches while Mike skids to a stop in front of the rusted-up, out of date fire alarm and pulls the lever down.

A wave of raw noise washes over him. Bonnie twitches, hands rising to cover his ears as he stalks down the hall. The cameras are junk, but they pick up sound better than video, and the words Bonnie says as he glides past Mike come in loud and clear.

“Go back to the office. We'll continue this another night.”

Mike nods shakily, expression tightening as the impact of what he just did finally dawns on him, and runs down the hall fast enough to make Foxy jealous. There's a series of nervous raps and the sound of a door opening before Fritz switches the monitor off. He's managed to burn through a stupid amount of power in the last few minutes, but it doesn't matter. The androids aren't dumb enough to stick around in the open when the fire department is on its way, and they don't like bothering him much anyway.

Fritz leans back in his chair and eyes his magazine speculatively.

Outside, there's a bunch of kids who are going to live another day, despite their lack of survival instincts. Inside, there's a brat who's going be chewed out by their boss, both their coworkers and, as soon as it becomes clear there wasn't actually a fire, the firefighters. Mike may be stubborn as hell and suffering from chronic hero syndrome, but he doesn't know jack shit about how to get away with doing the right thing. Jeremy's kind of a badass, but he's no good at dealing with people – he just folds under their expectations like a confused puppy. They're going to get skinned alive for this.

Ah, fuck it. He's already involved, might as well go for broke. Time to start thinking of ways to take the blame for the latest clusterfuck. It would be easier if Mike hadn't broken Jeremy's phone, but what the hell. A challenge is nice every once in a while.

"Bonnie, what the hell."

"Hello, Freddy. Nice to see you."

"Don't even try. What were you thinking?"

"How much fire alarms hurt my ears? You're so lucky, Freddy. Your auditory sensors aren't much sharper than a human's. Mine-"

"You let him run right past you. You didn't even try to catch him."

"...no. I didn't."

"Why?"

"I've got good ears, Freddy. Even when I'm in the hall, I can hear everything going on the office."

"And?"

"They started talking as soon as the perimeter was breached."

"Your point?"

"...they told him everything. How company policy is to let us do whatever we want to trespassers. He wouldn't believe it. And when it became clear that they weren't going to do anything, he ran outside without a second thought."

"So he's an idiot."

"Yeah, probably. But it's a kind of idiocy I wouldn't mind seeing more of."

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Once Fritz has a magazine in his hands, there are very few things that can convince him to lower it. The sudden appearance of a mechanical fox intent on his blood? Nope. The sound of something crawling through the vents toward him? Nope. The sound of a window breaking?

That'll do it.

He lifts his eyes from the paragraph he's been staring blankly at for the last hour and picks up the monitor, flicking through the security cameras. He's not as fast as Jeremy, but urgency lends haste to his fingers. Finally, he reaches the dining hall and stops. Some idiot's thrown a brick through one of the windows. The angle won't let him see outside – what kind of security system doesn't let you see outside the fucking building? – but he can hear drunken giggling filtering in through broken glass.

College students on a bender. Fritz stares at the screen in his hands, ignoring the little battery symbol, and silently begs them to leave it at that. It's Mike's first week and Jeremy's been holding his hand the whole time, going as far as sitting in the office on his night off to keep him company or some shit. Which is stupid, 'cause Jeremy went out of his way to be unpleasant to Mike before he took the job, but the only time Fritz brought that little conundrum up Jeremy called him a cold-hearted bastard who's never felt a human emotion in his life.

Fritz is feeling a lot of emotions right now, and he wishes he could just switch them off. Why did the first break-in in months have to happen during Mike's shift?

His cellphone starts vibrating on the table. He snatches it up, flips it open, and accepts the call. It's Jeremy. Big surprise.

“Fritz, back me up here. Mike won't believe the pizzeria's policy on break-ins.”

“Because it's stupid!” Mike says hotly, loud enough that the cell has no trouble picking it up. “Look, I can understand you being scared, but we're security guards! If we're not supposed to secure the area, what are we even doing here?”

Alternately playing bait and babysitter to a bunch of malevolent AI. “Tell Mike that's not important right now. We're not leaving the offices.”

There's a pause while Jeremy does that; Fritz takes the opportunity to put his phone back on the table and take another glance at the monitor. The androids are filtering into the room, stalking between tables with predatory grace. Looking at them, you'd never believe they were made of wires and springs. They're nightmares that came stalking out of some madman's dreams, terrible and beautiful in equal measure.

Bonnie's not there. Probably still hovering in front of Mike's door, wondering if he should abandon his post in the off-chance there might be blood. And then Fritz's attention is being dragged away from the screen by a sudden scream.

“But there's kids out there!”

Jeremy babbles something in response – an excuse, a rationalization, Fritz doesn't care – but Mike steamrolls right over it. Just kids, don't know what they're doing, going to get themselves killed, blah blah blah – Fritz can't even hear Jeremy over the rant. To be honest, he's kind of impressed by Mike's stubbornness. And his work ethic. Never mind the killer robots wandering the building, including the rabbit Fritz knows for a fact has been stalking Mike ever since his first night – he has a job to do!

Fritz sighs and brings the phone back to his ear. “Jeremy, stop. Let me talk to him.”

Jeremy doesn't bother to argue, just hands him over without speaking. He never dealt with break-ins well. Not that Fritz can blame him. Another tap on the monitor shows that almost every android in the building has gathered in the dining hall, all of them staring at that broken window. Their eyes flash eerily in the dark. Maybe it'll be enough to pierce the alcohol-induced haze and spook the kids outside away.

Bonnie's still missing. So are Billy, Mangle, the Marionette, and the Shadows. It's good to know the deadliest and most annoying ones are still on the job.

And then Mike is yelling in his ear. “We have to do something!”

“And what can we do?” Fritz asks bluntly, leaning back in his chair. “They're faster than us, stronger than us, and a hell of a lot better at picking up sounds that aren't supposed to be there. Most of them are gathered in the dining hall right now, but not all of them. We move, they're going to hear, and they're going to rip us limb from limb.”

Mike rallies quickly. “Fine! But there must be some sort of warning we can give them.”

“Like what? This half-assed security system doesn't even have an alarm to set off. The closest thing we've got is the fire alarm, and it's located right outside the supply closet and only right outside the supply closet.”

“But that's–”

“Stupid? Yes. Mean? Also yes. Cheap? You guessed it.” A grim smile starts crawling across Fritz's face. He lets it. “We work for Freddy Fazbear's, Mike. In a contest between saving lives and saving cash, I think we all know which one wins.”

“But... we can't just leave them to the androids.” Mike's not yelling anymore; he's on the verge of tears.

Honesty is the best policy, even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts. “Yes, we can. Because if we don't, we are definitely going to die.”

Mike doesn't answer. The silence stretches on almost a minute before Fritz is half-deafened by a sudden shriek of noise. Did Mike just throw his phone at a wall? Judging by the call's sudden disconnection, the answer is yes. He swears, jerks the phone away from his ear, and turns back to the monitor. A quick cycle through the cameras takes him to the West Hall, and he swears again when he hears one of the office doors slide open.

Bonnie's lurking in the hall, eyeing the creepy-ass drawings. He looks up, eyes narrowed, when Mike skids into the hall. Fritz knows the kid's not that much shorter than him, but he's tiny compared to Bonnie. So small. So breakable. Then Mike squares his shoulders and, in a move stolen straight from Fritz in his more suicidal moments, runs straight toward the android.

Fritz sighs and braces himself for screams and the sound of tearing meat. It doesn't come. Instead, Bonnie steps aside, letting Mike barrel down the West Hall without even a half-hearted attempt at grabbing him. Which is complete and utter bullshit, but Fritz isn't going to point that out. He likes Mike more than he likes the idea of a logical world. He bites his tongue and watches while Mike skids to a stop in front of the rusted-up, out of date fire alarm and pulls the lever down.

A wave of raw noise washes over him. Bonnie twitches, hands rising to cover his ears as he stalks down the hall. The cameras are junk, but they pick up sound better than video, and the words Bonnie says as he glides past Mike come in loud and clear.

“Go back to the office. We'll continue this another night.”

Mike nods shakily, expression tightening as the impact of what he just did finally dawns on him, and runs down the hall fast enough to make Foxy jealous. There's a series of nervous raps and the sound of a door opening before Fritz switches the monitor off. He's managed to burn through a stupid amount of power in the last few minutes, but it doesn't matter. The androids aren't dumb enough to stick around in the open when the fire department is on its way, and they don't like bothering him much anyway.

Fritz leans back in his chair and eyes his magazine speculatively.

Outside, there's a bunch of kids who are going to live another day, despite their lack of survival instincts. Inside, there's a brat who's going be chewed out by their boss, both their coworkers and, as soon as it becomes clear there wasn't actually a fire, the firefighters. Mike may be stubborn as hell and suffering from chronic hero syndrome, but he doesn't know jack shit about how to get away with doing the right thing. Jeremy's kind of a badass, but he's no good at dealing with people – he just folds under their expectations like a confused puppy. They're going to get skinned alive for this.

Ah, fuck it. He's already involved, might as well go for broke. Time to start thinking of ways to take the blame for the latest clusterfuck. It would be easier if Mike hadn't broken Jeremy's phone, but what the hell. A challenge is nice every once in a while.

"Bonnie, what the hell."

"Hello, Freddy. Nice to see you."

"Don't even try. What were you thinking?"

"How much fire alarms hurt my ears? You're so lucky, Freddy. Your auditory sensors aren't much sharper than a human's. Mine-"

"You let him run right past you. You didn't even try to catch him."

"...no. I didn't."

"Why?"

"I've got good ears, Freddy. Even when I'm in the hall, I can hear everything going on the office."

"And?"

"They started talking as soon as the perimeter was breached."

"Your point?"

"...they told him everything. How company policy is to let us do whatever we want to trespassers. He wouldn't believe it. And when it became clear that they weren't going to do anything, he ran outside without a second thought."

"So he's an idiot."

"Yeah, probably. But it's a kind of idiocy I wouldn't mind seeing more of."