The JereMike Collection

The Game

If you haven't already read my AU, I recommend you do so before you go any further, otherwise some bits are going to be very confusing for you.

Jeremy knew something was wrong with Mike the moment he laid eyes on him.

It wasn't anything incredibly obvious. More like the small, subtle hints the security guard was giving off is what Jeremy based his conclusion on.

The red rimmed iris, lost of pigment in his skin, the faint discoleration under his eyes advancing to a much darker shade. Oddly, his cap would be slightly off center, exposing his scars just the slightest. For some reason today, he didn't bother fixing it.

It wasn't just his visual apperence either. His body language was like reading an open book.

The man who usually stood with his back straight with stoic attidude look to be almost alien to what Jeremy saw now. Shoulders slumped, stuffing his hands in and out of his pockets, and the occaisional paranoid glance over his shoulder, as if he thought someone was watching.

Even his reaction time was slow. Walking into the Pizzeria earlier that evening, he found the guard sitting in a chair, his head bent down with his hands cupping his head. Worried, the nightwatch called out for him as he came closer. It took a total of three tries and one outstretched hand for Mike to slowly look up from the floor, dark blue eyes rolling up to glare into green.

He gave a half-hearted smile to the disturbed nightwatch before standing up, walking calmly towards the locker room.

Jeremy just blinked, following after him.

"I-is something wrong?" He would ask, unplugging the tablet from it's charging station. "...Do you wanna talk about it?"

The security guard only took a shaky breath, holding his head down as he shut his locker. "No"

Jeremy pressed his lips together, turning away. He wasn't sure if that answered his first question or his second, but a gut feeling voted for the latter. Mike was one to have bad days every now and then, just like everyone else. There would be mornings when he'd wake with a headache from hell, only to down a cup of coffee and go to work, where a full shift's worth of harrassment awaited him. But he'd endure it noneless.

Then afterwards, he'd wait for Jeremy to arrive and the two would childishly bicker as the clocked ticked towards midnight. Depending whether Mike would head home or not, he'd tease Jeremy over the smallest of things, whether it'd be the way his hair was too floofy for his cap or how he hardly reached Mike's chin. These little comments would sail over Jeremy's head of course, and he'd occaislaly make a decent comeback of his own.

Their playfull banter at night would wash the troubles of the day away.

Jeremy watched as Mike doubled over, bolting inside the restroom. It was different this time.

He could hear him puke up his lunch from the next room over. "M-Mike...?" The nightwatch set the tablet back at the station, slowly walking towards the men's room. The door had been pushed open with such force that it was still wavering at the hinges as Jeremy reached out a hand to stop it. "...Are you ok?"

The air went quiet as the door shut behind him. The very first stall was open, a shadow on the ground leading inside of it. Jeremy swallowed nervously before stepping closer to the man.

Mike bent over, panting. He reached over and grabbed some tolit paper, wiping his mouth before tossing it in along with the rest of the vomit. A small whimper sounded from behind him and he slowly straightened, turning to the anxious teen with a disgusted sneer.

"Does it look like I'm ok?"

Jeremy took a step back and Mike paused, taking in the brunette's reaction. His snarl disappeared. "...Sorry" He muttered, catching his breath. "I'm not feeling like myself"