He had tried. He had really, really tried.
Jeremy had been right all along. There had been something deeply, disturbingly wrong with the animatronics, and Steven had done everything he could to get the poor kid switched to day shift as quickly as possible after witnessing it all first-hand. Bell had taken the night shift himself to cover the sudden guard rotation, unwilling to force Fitzgerald to finish even a single week in the position.
But it hadn't been enough. Day, night, it hadn't mattered; something about Jeremy specifically made the 'bots practically hateful. One second, Fitzgerald had been keeping an eye out to make sure none of the parents were targeted, the next--
Steven doesn't consider himself a very squeamish person, but he had barely made it to the restrooms before he had vomited, praying that anyone else still at the scene would have the presence of mind to call 911.
Someone must have, or else he wouldn't be here right now.
"H-Hey, wow, l-look at you!" Steven's face is pale, the bouquet in his hand swaying slightly from the tremors in his fingers. He hastily places it down on one of the hospital room's guest chairs, wiping off the water and sweat from his hands onto his slacks.
"What a trooper! Heh. You look great!" For a guy who had had his skull caved in.
"I just--I hope it's okay I'm here, the, uh... nurses let me in. I can leave. I'm just--" 'sorry' doesn't begin to cut it.
"...here. For you. I'm here for you. Yeah."
@curseofbreadbear.