#schmidt's siblings

[fazbear-security]

Mike: *half-jokingly refers to himself as the Family Disappointment*

Luis, slowly rising from his chair: Are you challenging my title?

[fazbear-security]

Michael: What did you guys get in your yearbook?

Luis: 'Prettiest Smile'.

Coraline: 'Nicest Personality'.

Tara: 'Most Likely to Start a Bar Fight'.

Franco: 'Least Likely to Start a Bar Fight, But Most Likely To Win One'.

[fazbear-security]

Michael: We need more help. Maybe I should call my friends?

Luis: ...your what?

Michael: My friends.

Coraline: Is he saying 'friends'?

Tara: I think he's being sarcastic.

Franco: No, no, no. This is delirium. He's cracked from being awake all night. Hey, Mike! All of your friends are in this room!

Michael: I have other friends! You asked me to make new friends, I made new friends. It was a task! I complete tasks!

[fazbear-security]

Luis, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him

Mike: You did WHAT–

Coraline: William Snakepeare

[fazbear-security]

First Day Back [A Fic]

Mike Schmidt wasn’t looking forward to going into work that night.

Most of that was because his sleep schedule had been upended by his time in the hospital, so staying awake for his usual overnight shift was going to be harder than usual. Some of it was the bulky crutches he had to use, now, and the braces holding his leg together that made walking without them impossible. Some of that was the uncomfortable conversations he knew he had to face, tonight.

But he had to go in, whether he wanted to or not...and he really didn’t want to.

“...isn’t you being here a conflict of interest?” Mike asked as his sister fiddled with the keys, looking for the shape he’d told her earlier matched the front door lock.

“Normally, yeah, it would be.” Tara shrugged, finding the right key and inserting it into the door. “But these aren’t normal circumstances, and Chief Memphis agreed to close the investigation into yours and Anders’ assault so long as corporate allowed an officer to be present for all shifts for the next three months.” She paused, halfway through twisting the lock. “As a precautionary measure.”

“Precautionary. Right.” Mike deadpanned.

“I just so happened to be the officer Memphis assigned to the night shift for tonight, and Fazbear Entertainment didn’t want to risk their ‘get out of jail free’ card by arguing.” Tara continued as she unlocked the door, and pulled it open. “What’s wrong, Mikey? Not looking forward to spending the night with your favorite sister?”

“That title is still up for grabs.” Mike grumbled as he adjusted his crutches, and limped through the open door. “And I’m more worried that you’re going to fall asleep on me. You work days, and this shift ends at 6am.”

“I’ll just drink all your coffee.” Tara laughed, waiting for her brother to cross the threshold before following. “You can’t drink all that caffeine, anyway, with the meds your on.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me...” Mike groaned. The next three months were going to absolutely  s u c k  without his usual pick-me-up...

Tara closed the door and locked it again, and moved to catch up with her brother, who had stopped beside one of the party tables. A bunch of papers had been strewn across it, with an assortment of somewhat scribbly crayon drawings on them. Someone had doodled a few presents and a handful of balloons, and even a few childish drawings of what looked like a security guard. 

“WELCOME BACK, MR. SCHMIDT!!”

The stage lights suddenly flashed on, and balloons fell from the rafters with the sound of a party horn. As innocent as the sound was, Mike made a strangled noise of surprise, and nearly jumped out of his crutches. If not for his sister’s quick reflexes, he probably would have fallen. There was a gasp from the stage, and Chica threw her hands up to her beak.

“Oh, no! We didn’t mean to scare you!” The animatronic apologized. Freddy quickly tossed away the party horn he’d been holding, and Bonnie sheepishly held a balloon up in front of his face. “We just wanted to give you a good ‘welcome back’ surprise!”

Tara made a mental note to give Reynolds five dollars, next time she saw him.

That case file was real after all.

“I told ye this be too much.” Foxy grumbled, waving away a loose balloon that was trying to cling to his ratty fur. Bonnie caught it with one hand, and batted it out over the tables. “The lad’s jumpier than Bonnie in summer birthday week - an’ that’s on a good day.” The rabbit in question’s ears sprang up and he opened his mouth, but then paused, and closed it again.

He couldn’t say Foxy was wrong...

“How about we all just...calm down, and have a seat?” Tara suggested. All eyes turned to her in surprise, as if they’d only just realized she was there. “I think we all have a lot to discuss, and Mikey needs to get off his feet whenever possible.” She helped her brother over to a chair near the stage, and the animatronics all sat down (as best they could) at the edge. Mike shifted to hold his crutches in front of him, almost like a shield, and Tara took a deep breath.

“I guess I’m going first, then.” She realized when nobody moved or spoke for several seconds. “Alright.” She squared her shoulders. “I’m Tara Gillsman. I’m Mike’s sister, and an officer of CVPD. I’m here in part to make sure no further incidents occur on these premises while the court case is wrapping up....and to officially talk to you all,” She nodded at the animatronics, whose faces were once more masks of surprise she didn’t know they could make. “About your existence....at least in a loose capacity.”

“So....you knew.” Mike flicked his eyes away from the animatronics for a few seconds to look at his sister. “About them.” Tara paused.

“I read the case file, yeah.” She nodded. Mike’s eyes narrowed.

“You knew.” He accused with a little too much emphasis. Immediately, he winced and raised a hand to his head, attempting to alleviate the exertional headache. Tara reached out to her brother, but he just waved off her hand. “When I had a mental breakdown in the hospital and sobbed all over you about haunted robots and nightmares and murder, you knew and you didn’t say anything?!”

“The case file was classified.” Tara impressed defensively. “It still is. I wasn’t cleared to talk about it with anyone who wasn’t already in the know-”

“I was in the know!” Mike shouted, shoving himself up to his feet with no crutches, to his own immediate detriment. He grit his teeth against the pain and twisted to face his sister. “Why couldn’t you talk about it with me?! Tara, I thought I was going crazy!” Chica slid off the stage as quietly as she could, and ran off in the direction of the kitchens. Mike didn’t even look in her direction.

“You weren’t.” His sister insisted. Freddy wondered where the weight behind the word had come from. “Mikey, I swear, I would have told you the second Chief Memphis gave me the green light.” Mike hissed in a breath through his teeth, and the animatronics on stage all leaned back a little. They remembered the last time their guard had lost his temper.

But before anything more could be said, there was a scraping sound across the floor, and Mike stopped short to look down at it. There, at his feet, was a sealed bottle of water from the kitchen supplies, pushed into reach with the end of a broom. On the other end of the broom was Chica, awkwardly kneeling on the floor in an attempt to look as non-threatening as she could. When Mike looked at her, she dropped the broom, and sat back on her heels.

“Sorry,” Chica apologized. “But the first aid handbook says that water helps get rid of headaches, and you look like you have a pretty bad one, so...” She trailed off, hesitant to get up and move, lest she startle their jumpy guard. Mike breathed out, and all of his rising anger seemed to deflate. He sank back into his chair, and then leaned down to pick up the water bottle. He cracked it open, and gave Chica a look that was...not quite wary, but thoughtful.

“Thanks...” He muttered, far more quietly than before. Chica carefully climbed to her feet, and shuffled over to join her friends at the stage. Tara waited while her brother to take a few sips of the water before sitting down in a chair of her own, and resting her arms on her knees.

“Let’s start from the top...”

[fazbear-security]

@phantoms-lair

((I had a bit of trouble with Foxy’s pose, which is why this didn’t post right away, but here you go!))

---

“...so there I was, alone in th’ storm, wit’ no ship ‘n no crew...”

[fazbear-security]

Mike, 5'5": How do tall people people possibly sleep at night when the blanket can't possibly cover you?

Tara, 6'2": Mikey, it's four o'clock in the morning.

Mike: So, you can't sleep, huh? Is it because of the blanket?

[fazbear-security]

Mike: So you knew.

Tara: I was made aware of the case file in the last few months, yeah.

Mike: You KNEW.

Tara: Mike, stop. It was classified and-

Mike: YOU K N E W.