Broken and Together

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Secret Investigation

    And so begins the FNAF 2 arc...

~~~~~~~~~~

    "You've got to be kidding me," Michael grumbled to himself as he exited his car and slammed its door shut. "That's the second ticket this month. I need to pay better attention to how I drive. I swear, speeding is going to be the death of me." Shaking his head at himself, he marched across the parking lot and towards the entrance of the pizzeria, a bursting plastic bag in hand. He often visited it, nearly every day, even if he hadn't managed to get a job as a technician. In fact, he was the understudy of the location's nightguard. If this guard ever quit or needed a replacement for whatever reason, Michael was the one to take up the job. Or rather, Fritz Smith was, seeing as Mike used that as his undercover name. Charlie teased him he'd gone too generic and obvious with the simple last name "Smith", but he didn't care. No one recognized him at the pizzeria, seeing as most, if not all, the staff had been replaced once Henry and William lost control of most the company.

    Michael hummed to himself and pushed through the double glass doors. He was greeted by the usual busy and colorful dining area of the pizza place, filled with cheering kids. He hovered near the entrance and watched them. A fond smile lingered on his face. Despite his usual grouchy and rude nature, he'd always had a soft spot for children, even as a teen, though of course he never would have admitted it then.

    "Ah, Fritz." One of the many employees approached him. "Wasn't expecting to see you here again. If I remember, you don't technically work here."

    Immediately, Michael's cheery expression vanished to an irritated one. "Yes, I know that. I'm just dropping off my girlfriend's lunch. Plus, this is a public place. Is it a crime for me to visit? I don't think so."

    "Mm." The worker smiled tightly. "Well go on then. Don't let me stop you."

    "Yeah, you'd like that wouldn't you?" Michael breezed past him, rolling his eyes. He, unfortunately, butted heads with that employee and a few others quite a bit. Made him remember how much he used to despise most people, perhaps he still did a lot of times.

    He stopped near the entrance of a hall and glanced around, searching the area for one of the others working here. Most of Charlie's friends managed to get a job, and those who did, always kept a lookout for William or other signs of foul play. Whenever Michael came to give Charlie her lunch, he usually met up with one of them, just to make sure all was well and that no new discoveries had been made. As a matter of fact, Charlie was perfectly capable of making and bringing her own lunch. This was only a clever way for Michael to get a better insight on the pizzeria, seeing as he didn't currently perform any work there.

    "Mike!" Someone came up beside him, dragging a bucket and mop. "I was wondering when you'd show up, I actually think I—"

    "Carlton!" Michael smacked a hand over his mouth. "You're supposed to call me Fritz when we're here, remember? And you can't shout stuff like that."

    Carlton nodded and brushed his hand away. "My bad. I'm used to talking loudly around here, nobody ever notices the janitor." He sighed, leaning against the mop. "Why'd I have to take this job again? I had to clean up some kid's puke twice today already. Twice."

    "Sucks to be you," Michael said. "Now what were you going to tell me?"

    "Rude. I was actually going to say I might have some news."

    "Seriously?"

    "Well, yeah."

    "That's great." Michael lowered his voice. "What is it? Is it about my father?"