A Guard's life

Old friend, new friend

A/N:
I slowly start to fear that I'm rushing... well, I sure hope you enjoy it anyway!

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Mike was surprised, even stunned, that his employer didn't force him to talk about what happened right away. The man didn't even ask any questions. He showed him a room, clean but fairly barebones, and brought him ice and bandages.
Before Mike could accept though, Phone Guy took them back away. "We said I would be the one who nurses you back to health next time."
"How about no? That was a fucking joke."
"You can't reach your back and it's childish of you to deny my help."
Silence commenced, as Phone Guy signed him to take off his shirt. He complied, but not without weak protest.
"What does bandaging it even do? This shit went under my new skin, didn't it?"
"Yes, which is why I have this liniment here. It goes through the skin, but that takes a while-"
"For how stupid do you take me?! I KNOW how that shit works!"
"Fine, I'm sorry. Now hold still."
The injured man tried his best and even if he flinched every other second, he managed to get over it quickly. The ice numbed the pain enough and for the night and his... partner had placed painkiller on the nightstand.
Finishing up, the Head-Guard sat down next to him with enough space and started to speak.
"It's quite the miracle that you are still alive. How did you continue to stay conscious?"
"... I don't know. All monster are hard to kill. Maybe I'm a monster in body, just as much as in spirit."
"Please, stop with this over-the-top self-loathing. You're as much of a monster as... well, at least less of a monster than me."
"Fuck this. It's time to stop with the guilt bullshit."
"Wise words."
"Are you sarcastic?"
"No... not much. It's just not that easy. You're probably struggling to stay awake, so I guess I'll be in the next room if you need me."
The bed wasn't uncomfortable, yet Mike couldn't sleep for a long time. He listen to the Phone, who made different calls, his voice being muffled through the walls.
Slowly he drifted away.
Is this him?
No, it isn't.
Then why did he do it?
I don't know! Maybe he is on HIS side.
No, that doesn't make sense.
He did THIS to us! We HAVE to take revenge!
Maybe he didn't know what he was doing?
How would YOU know?
I don't, but we could ask him!
Go ahead!
No, you should do it! He likes you!
No, one of the girls should do it! Girls can always easily get what they want!
That is stupid! Let's make him die!
But, if we are wrong, we are terrible children! And mommy said bad children can't go to where the good souls go!
Yeah, it would be horrible if I wouldn't be allowed to see my family again!
What if he thought he helped us with this? Give him the benefit of the doubt!
At least we're not stuck in the stupid suits anymore...
Let's ask him for help! If he refuses and laughs, he is a bad man and we can take revenge.
Mike reopened his eyes.
Sun shone through the window, the whole room was colored yellow.
Slowly he rose, all his body aching, begging to not move and simply lay down until he died. Out of breath he sat on the edge of bed, recollecting his hazy memory.
It wasn't very successful, since the smell and constant frizzling of breakfast distracted him.
Fighting with his paining legs to stand up and get something to eat, Mike struggled a while, but thankfully he didn't need to win, Phone Guy entered with different plates.
"Do you prefer a sweet or salty breakfast?"
"What?"
"Eggs and Bacon or pancakes?"
"Did you seriously made two different dishes for me?"
"Of course not! One of them is for me. I just like both types of food in the morning, so I thought I give you the right to choose."
"Give me the eggs."
They ate together, which made Mike feel slightly uncomfortable. This wasn't a situation he was used to, not even when he was little was there anyone eating together with him. Once or twice classmates mentioned that it was some kind of family tradition to eat together, but Mike couldn't understand it. Why would you sit with someone, just because you want to eat? You can't even talk while eating!
Hopefully the Phone would soon start with whatever he wanted to discuss with him, so he could leave as soon as possible.
His prayers were heard, after finishing, the man began talking.
"Mike, do you want to terminate your contract and seek another job? I don't blame you. Of course you will get a good review, praising your stellar performance. I should probably fire Jeremy too. He won't understand it, but..."
"What?! What the FUCK are you even talking about?!"
"My conscience is unable to allow you two to keep working at Freddy's."
"WHY? Seriously, what did change? What, did the robots got now MORE dangerous?! Is the death-percentage now by 90% instead of 80%?!"
"Stop joking around, I get it!" PG rested his head on his hands. "But you don't understand the current situation. You don't know who just entered the restaurant. You... it's bad. It's worse than regular Freddy. With him we can be sure that... we will be degenerated to playthings."
"You're exaggerating."
"Not even remotely."
"Who is that guy even? What's his real name?"
"I don't know, to be honest. He only calls himself Old Sport, but that might be because of Vincent. They were... friends in the last joint."
"Friends?"
"They worked together. They are a scarily good team. Just between us, Vincent obsesses over him, it's terrifying."
"Obsessing? I'm surprised he even has the concentration to focus on any-fucking-thing for more than two days. What did they do?"
"Trying to destroy the chain, tampering with the robot's and they were the reason for the bite of '87. There were more things happening in that week, but... I'm not sure how much they were involved."
"So, we basically have now two psychopaths in the place? Who encourage each other? Fucking great. What's the plan?"
"There isn't one. We stand no chance. There's NOTHING we can do. That's why I want you to leave."
Mike raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, right, fuck that. I'm not going anywhere."
"Even I would leave if I could! How suicidal ARE you?!"
"Quite a bit, but that isn't the thing. I won't stand for this shit! I WON'T be bullied out of my job and I WON'T let myself be the victim of people who think they can do whatever they want!"
The Guard tried to jump up for emphasis, but the stinging pain only resulted in him almost tripping over.
"Please, Mike! Rest, don't move so much!"
Groaning he allowed his boss to help back on the bed. "What's even the fucking time?"
"Almost twelve, we've slept for quite a while."
"Shouldn't you be at work?"
"Are you insane? Freddy's is closed for today and tomorrow is Sunday, so we have two free days. Not even I can go to work after this."
"Oh, so you DO get a free day at Freddy's."
Nervously PG played with his cord. "Don't tell the higher-ups about this."
Mike shrugged and stayed silent.
"Y-you probably have a lot of questions now... I won't lie to you. Ask if you want."
"Dear PG, do I seem like I care about anything Vincent said? He's an asshole and nothing of worth comes out of his stupid mouth, so I don't need to ask anything. Wait, there is one thing; why did... Old Sport... call him Dave?"
"It was the name he used in the last establishment."
"... What the fuck do we tell Jeremy?"
"Nothing. The less he knows, the safer he might be."
"Might?"
"FREAKING HECK, I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT VINCENT! HOW CAN I KNOW?!" His outburst was helpless and frustrated. Silence ensued. "Can I ask you a few questions?"
"I can't promise to answer."
"Did you work in one of the previous places?"
"Nope."
"Why are you... so suicidal?"
"Guess, you fucking idiot."
"Who did you scream at, as you were standing up?"
"....... I don't know. Nothing, most likely."
"What... what is the deal with your scars?"
"Enough, I need space. Can I go home now?"
"If... If you promise me to call me later."
"Jesus, what are you, my fucking girlfriend?!"
"I'm worried something happens to you!"
"So, you're my mom?"
"I AM YOUR FRIEND! AND I TAKE YOUR WELL-BEING SERIOUSLY!"
"My... friend."
Embarrassed Phone Guy clawed into his receiver. "I'm sorry, I never really had a friend, but I thought this was the way it usual works..."
"You want to call ME a friend?"
"Yes, but if you mind-"
"You're fucking weird, Phone. Why would you want to be my friend?"
"B-because I trust you! I... I basically want a confirmation that you're fine with me and that you trust me as well!"
"Trust you? The third original animatronic?"
"I t-thought you didn't believe anything he said!"
"I know a human when I talk to one."
"And I'm not-? Please, Mike..." His voice was thin and desperate, the man hugged himself as the next words left his receiver. "I need you. I won't be able to do this alone. Without you I... I'll..."
Mike turned back to him, on the way to the door. He was shivering.
"You need me? ME? I thought you already gave up?"
"If you won't help me... I will be dead."
His words were filled with fear and hopelessness.
Battered and bruised, scarred and alone.
Now it clicked with Mike. Phone Guy was still dirty, his head was dented at one side and he was wearing the same clothing as yesterday.
"It... It's really bad, isn't it?"
"You can't even imagine... I beg of you, you're the only one I can talk to!"
Without realizing Mike reached out and softly touched the mistreated metal. "Does it hurt?"
"N-not much, I'm going to take care of it later..."
"Really? You have the time to make breakfast, but not to patch yourself up?"
Partly Mike asked himself if he was deliberately being manipulated. This all didn't feel right.
"Well, first I have to know if it's worth it, you know? I mean, why should I repair myself, just to break at the end of the week?"
"CAN I trust you PG?"
The question came out of nothing. Frozen the Phone-head flashed back to one of his earlier jobs.
Old Sport stood in front of the restaurant, obviously trying to pick a lock, without any knowledge on how to do so.
He stepped in, right as the Guard gave up.
"What on earth are you doing there?! Didn't you get the memo? The place is closed down... at least for a while."
They shortly talked. Then he said it. There's a birthday tomorrow, things are hard right now, can I count on you to come?
Please... I need you to come tomorrow.
"Of course! I'll be there!" With a friendly smile.
Back in reality he turned away. Maybe it was better like this.
"No, you can't. Have fun with your two free days."
Mike didn't move, his hand hovered over the doorknob. Multiple thoughts were running through his head, creating a chaotic mess. But one of them was stronger than the others.
"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! FINE! FUCK YOU PHONE FACE! You owe me one for this. Guess I should rather call you... Phone-friend from now on. GOD, I could fucking BARF! This is so disgusting!"
Irritated his "new" friend shook his head. "I just said you couldn't trust me!"
"First sign of honesty."
"Please Mike, stop toying with my emotions!"
"I ALREADY CALLED YOU A FRIEND! Take it or leave it, I don't care. I'm off now, cleaning the weak off of me. AND YES, I'LL CALL THIS EVENING. I expect you to have a plan on how to deal with them by that time."
Burning red, out of different reasons, he slammed the door shut before he could get any answer and rushed home. This shit was ridiculous.
Silently he wondered what Vincent and his friend did after exiting the restaurant.
Well, not like he would ever know, or care.