#apollo writes

You met Mike about a week after he had moved into your town, the unity being unlikely, however, fate had other plans and intended for the two of your paths to cross. Abby was outside alone one Saturday morning, the sun shining in the cloudless blue sky, the heat of the summer morning reigning for humidity surrounding everything, no matter the use of an air conditioner. However, despite the raging heatwave and imminent discomfort, Abby proceeded to spend the start of her day outside running through the sprinkler that Mike set up for her. 

You were in your driveway washing your car in the 9am sunshine, sweating bullets despite how early it was in the day. You cursed yourself for your car being white and dirty in the dead of a heatwave, but complaining was useless when there were bigger things to worry about.

From across the way, your new neighbor, the brown haired girl with the contagious laugh, tripped over one of her toys in the grass and landed knees first into the driveway, the sight of blood immediately on her skin. Witnessing the fall and hearing her anguished cry, without even considering her parents could be inside, you rush to her aide to ask if she is alright. 

Through a fit of tears she clutches her scraped leg, showing the wound on her knee to you just as Mike, who you assumed was her ridiculously handsome and alarmingly young father, ran out of the house and to Abby’s rescue. He scooped her into his arms and asked what happened, but she was too shocked to verbally process what had happened, so through hiccups and sniffles, she shrugs and continues to cry.

“Do you need a first aid kit? Mine is right in my car.” You say, pointing to your open car door. Mike looks at you, almost insulted, as if to say “how dare you assume I don’t have supplies to care for my child?”, but upon seeing the wound and the blood dripping onto the driveway, his face altered as he nodded quickly, thanking you. You rush to your car and take out the kit and rush back to the man and the girl, determined to help as much as you could. He sets her down on a dry patch of grass and gestures to you for the kit. You hand it to him and he takes it, opening it and shuffling through the contents to get what was needed. After a few moments of cleaning the wound through the girl’s screams, the cries eventually subsided as the wound was covered, and the first aid kit was placed back in your hands.

“Thank you so much…” He trials off, leaving room for you to fill in the blank with your name, which you do.

“(Y/N)...thanks again. I’m Mike…and this is Abby. What even happened?” He asks with an eyebrow raised towards Abby. 

Abby spoke up and retold the story of how she was running through the sprinkler, slipped on one of her toys and fell on the driveway, skidding her knee against the concrete. Mike kissed her forehead and told her she was going to be okay. He asked her if she wanted to come inside for the rest of the day, where she then proceeded to get up and run back towards the running sprinkler without another word. The two of you shared a laugh as you sat in Mike’s driveway.

“Thanks for looking out for my sister.” Mike says with a smile, reaching out to shake your hand. You take his rather coarse hand in yours and give it a light shake, the soft gesture not matching the feeling of his rough hands against yours. The feeling made your heart skip a beat, but that also could be due to the fact that you’re interacting with such an attractive stranger. 

Yet, just as soon as his hand found yours, the warmth of the contact was gone and replaced with the humidity of the day. 

“You’re welcome.” You say, almost unfazed by the fact that this was his sister.

Almost.

“You said she’s your sister?” You inquire with slight shock. He laughs and nods.

“Yeah. No, I’m not her dad. I’m her caretaker though.” He replies while avoiding eye contact. You nod along, intrigued by how that responsibility came to be, but realized it was not your place to pry. So, you didn’t. Instead, you just smile and change the subject.

“You two just moved in, right?” You ask, gesturing to his house. He looks at it proudly yet sheepishly, and nods. 

“Yeah, a little over a week ago. We haven’t exactly gotten around to neighborly introductions yet, sorry about that.” He says with embarrassment in his tone. 

“Nothing to be sorry for, really.” You assure. 

And before you knew it, the noon sun was beating down on the two of you amidst a shared conversation through getting to know one another, Abby interrupting by announcing her desire for lunch.

“Did you want to come inside? I don’t mean to brag, but I make a mean PB&J sandwich.” He says with amusement in his tone. You smile and nod at the proposition, excited to see where this was going.

Through the two hour conversation on Mike’s lawn, you learned a lot about him and his sister. After his experience at Freddy’s with Abby a few months prior, he had become less reserved and learned to be more open with his feelings and experiences, trying to lead by example for his sister, which was proving to be a success in itself. He had no shame in telling you about how he became Abby’s caregiver and lost his brother and parents. He also shared no shame in telling you about the trauma he and Abby went through. But, just as you were about to respond was when Abby announced her hunger, therefore Mike was left with a little anxiety about how much he unloaded onto you.

However, when you agreed to take the conversation inside, he knew that he hadn’t scared you off with such a vulnerable tale and you were still there even after learning some of the horrors, however base level the information may be. 

After a few minutes in the kitchen and watching TV with an unwinding Abby, Mike emerged into the living room with three plates, one each holding a sandwich for all of you. You smile and thank Mike as he hands you the plate, Abby, curled up under a blanket with a towel in her hair, thanks Mike as well as she immediately begins to scarf down her food, the prior physical activity working up an appetite. Abby continues to watch her TV as she eats while you and Mike sit with her on the couch.

Despite the innocence of the situation, you couldn’t ignore the chemistry and ignition of emotions when Mike’s knee brushed against yours, or how his thigh was pressed against yours when he sat back down after cleaning up lunch. No shortly after was that done did he peek over to see his sister sound asleep wrapped in her blanket.

“I’m not kicking you out, but I also don’t wanna keep you here if you have things you need to do.” Mike says, avoiding eye contact once again. You start to nod and stand up.

“Yeah, I should probably get back to washing my car. But this was all really nice. I appreciate everything you’ve shared with me today, and I’d love to hang out again sometime.” You begin with a smile.

“If you ever want to, you know where to find me.” You tease. Mike gets up with you and smiles. He starts to walk you to the door.

“You’re fun, (Y/N). I definitely want to see more of you.” Mike says as you put your shoes on.

“Can I get your number, too?” He asks sheepishly. You nod before he could even finish the question. You exchange numbers and get back to washing your car.

An hour after you finished and decided to go inside, you check your phone to see a message from Mike just minutes prior.

You spent the rest of your day cleaning your house and texting Mike on and off.

Through the days that followed, you and Mike would text here and there, oftentimes greeting each other in passing: whether it be in the morning when he drops Abby off at summer camp and you’re leaving for work, the afternoon when he gets Abby off the camp bus, or sometimes at night when you’d be outside on the porch enjoying the summer evening pass you by.

As the days and greetings progressed, you yearned for Mike more and more. He started to occupy a lot of your thoughts and time, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was pondering the same things you were, if he was longing in the same ways. He was your first thought in the morning and the last before bed, considering you two were now conditioned into sending one another good morning and goodnight messages. 

Two weeks after your first interaction, it was Saturday again, and you were doing some gardening on that cool summer day. The skies were a light grey, the aftermath of a harsh summer thunderstorm that passed the night prior. The days and nights were growing colder as summer grew to a close, but you were not ready to let go of it yet. And neither was Mike. So, he invited you over for a last-weekend-of-summer barbecue and marshmallow roasting night with him and Abby.

However, by the time you arrived at your neighbor’s house, he opened the door with a sheepish smile.

“Hey…so uh, Abby twisted my arm and I let her go sleepover her friend’s house tonight. That happened about thirty minutes ago. So tonight is uh…just us. Hope that’s okay.” He says, looking to the floor. Your heart skipped a beat and fluttered at the prospect of hanging out with Mike alone for the night. So, you laughed and smiled a little wider than you should have.

“Damn, here I really wanted to chill with Abby. Bummer.” You tease. For a moment, Mike considered your faux sadness to be true, but when his eyes met yours, all he could see was amusement. So, he laughed with you and gestured you inside. He led you through the house to the back deck where the grill was, along with a firepit in the backyard. The desk and yard were done up nicely with string lights and mosquito-repellent candles, tables and chairs in all the right places. 

The night was spent with shared jokes, continuing to get to know one another, and general camaraderie between the two blossoming friends. You let Mike in on things about your world, and he did the same for you. After dinner, Mike offered you a can of beer. After the two of you get halfway through your cans, you decide to branch onto roasting marshmallows where the cans continue to flow. Finishing a six pack between the two of you within an hour, you were giggly messes while you ate messy s’mores. 

Your heart nearly flew out of your chest when Mike’s thumb ran across your lower lip to remove smudged melted chocolate that stained them. He carried on with a conversation after as if nothing happened, but you were left there in your thoughts, tuning out his words with your mindless racing of how flustered the gesture made you. But, eventually you were able to tune back in and brush off the feeling despite how on fire it made your heart…or maybe that was just the alcohol talking.

About an hour after the lip touch, you and Mike were decently drunk and ridiculously giggly messes. You two cracked childish jokes that only you two would laugh at, making the moment so much sweeter than it already was. 

Yet, as beautiful as the moment was, it was short-lived when you found yourself dozing off in one of Mike’s backyard chairs. 

“(Y/N)? You okay there, sleepyhead?” He asks with a smile, moving some hair from your forehead. 

“Shiiit. Sorry.” You whine, rubbing your eyes with a yawn.

“No worries, I just didn’t think you’d wanna sleep outside. Wanna come in or want me to walk you home?” Mike asks, fingers crossed behind his back as he hoped you’d want to spend the night.

But when you decide to walk home, he frowns, but quickly replaces it with a smile as he nods and holds his hand out for you to take. Your heart skips a beat as his fingers intertwine with yours as he helps you to your feet, allowing your hands to hold one another as he walks you from his backyard to your front door.

“This has been really nice.” Mike says, standing awkwardly as he tries his best to weaken his beaming smile, not wanting to come on too lovestruck, despite how much he felt it. 

“This has been. Thanks so much for everything, Mike.” You smile, fiddling in your pockets for your keys. 

“So…I’ll see you soon?” Mike asks hopefully, cringing internally due to how desperate he might’ve sounded.

“For sure.” You smile, unlocking your door. 

“Goodnight.” You say at the same time, before laughing it off. You walk inside your house, taking one last look at the smiling Mike you were coming to know and adore, before softly closing the door for the night.

Until the following night when you got a call from him.

You two had texted each other good morning as per usual, wishing each other a good day as you drove off to work and he and Abby got into his car. You went on about your day as you usually do, texting Mike on your lunch break. You got home from work and noticed he wasn’t home. You didn’t pay much mind to it considering he has his own life. But as the sun began to set and you received no text from him and were yet to see his car in his driveway, you began to grow a little nervous for your friend. You wanted to text and ask if he was okay, but it didn’t feel like your place to. 

Yet, when 8:47 pm rolled around, your heart raced as your phone buzzed with a call from Mike.

“Mike?” You say into the line.

“(Y/N)!” He practically screams. You can hear mechanical whirring in the background, followed along by what sounded like Mike’s heavy breathing and running footsteps. 

“Mike? What’s going on? Where are you?” You ask, getting up and searching for your keys, as something in you told him you needed to go help him.

“It’s Abby, she…fuck, there’s hardly anytime to explain. I need your help and I need it now. I’m at the original Freddy’s Pizzeria, I’ll explain everything when you get here. Just, fuck. Bring something to dismantle robots with, I don’t fucking know! Just help!” He cries out, before the line goes dead. 

With a surge of adrenaline, you rush out the door and speed through the roads in a daze all the way to the original Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.

You park haphazardly and burst into the building with a flashlight and a backpack filled with varying tools you hoped would help dismantle the robots Mike was talking about. You could only assume he meant the animatronics that he talked about from his encounter at the other location. 

You go to scream out Mike’s name, but realize it might be against your better judgement considering what you know about these animatronics. 

Instead, you recount everything Mike has told you about his survival at Freddy’s and made your next moves based on that. You turned on a flashlight and began to illuminate the abandoned attraction, heart racing in fear and from adrenaline as you began to walk the floors, listening closely to the sounds of terror and destruction from across the building. You made your way to the noise, the screams evidently Mike’s, the anguished cries for help and screams of fight made your blood run cold, yearning for the opportunity to protect him.

“Don’t worry, Mike.” You think to yourself. “I’m here. I’m coming.”

You tip toe quickly across the floors, crushing glass beneath your shoes as you travel. You swallow hard and breathe shallowly as you make your way across the building. You turn right, then left, then left again, and right, down a hallway, down another hallway, and before you know it, there’s an exit sign, and the sounds that were once growing louder, had ceased.

You refuse to let yourself think anything other than optimism: Mike ran out the exit door to safety. Mike is hiding somewhere safely. Anything other than the fact that they might’ve gotten to him…

You step closer to the exit door and hold your breath, stepping closer and closer, then jogging, running, sprinting, until your slam yourself against the bar of the door, awaiting the cold relief of the fall air to enter your lungs, but the inhale never came, for the door was locked, and you were stuck. 

You slam against the door over and over, hoping for a different result with each assault to your shoulder, but the escape never came. 

“Fuck!” You scream, forgetting that your noise would only attract the animatronics.

But you were too late to begin with. They already heard you throughout the building. Toy Freddy already saw you and alerted the others. It wasn’t until you heard the familiar tune of Foxy’s song did you realize you were cornered in a hallway with nowhere to run. The sounds of whirring mechanical footsteps grew closer and closer as you panicked.

But you froze.

The palpitations emanating from your heart were enough to make you lightheaded, or maybe it was from you holding your breath. Whatever the case may be, you were standing face to face with an entity much larger than you, trembling in a futile effort to stay completely motionless. Maybe playing dead would make them go away? Your racing thoughts were squashed when their mechanical eyes grazed over your form. There was no way staying still or playing dead would fool them. Their systems are far too advanced. All seems hopeless. Until you heard his voice.

“Don’t you fucking DARE!” Mike screams from down the hallway, Foxy’s hook in the air, ready to slash you to your death, freezes at the sound of Mike’s voice. Slowly but surely, Foxy turns his head, the mechanical sound chilling to the core. 

“I said…Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare.” Mike grits, his face illuminating within the red light of the exit sign.

Foxy’s servos begin to screech as he turns around meticulously. 

“(Y/N). Don’t. Move.” Mike whisper-yells, crouching down slowly as Foxy’s mechanisms divert to his text target. You were no longer the one he wanted to get…it was Mike he was after.

“Mike n-” You begin to yell, but his look of pure stern instruction shuts you up and glues you to the floor.

“Don’t.” Mike hisses, shaking his head firmly. 

You nod, breath coming in short gasps as your heart continues to race, watching the scene unfold, feeling helpless. You could hardly move, could hardly breathe: all you could do was stand there frozen in place.

As Mike moved closer, you could hardly see the friendly neighbor big brother you knew and deep down, truly loved. Gone was the pure hearted boy next door, replaced with a man driven by a raw need to protect the ones he cares for: the ones he loves. That fact alone sent chills up your spine…because in that moment you knew Mike wasn’t fighting for you solely because he cares about you…he’s fighting for you because he loves you.

And that was enough to shock you to your core.

Almost so you didn’t see Foxy lunge at Mike.

Almost.

It was the pure fury in his eyes and rage in his battle cry that sent chills through your core, watching as this man that you were fawning over fought for your life. With a swift motion, Mike thrust forward a metal chair towards Foxy’s chest, sending the animatronic to the floor, stunned for a moment.

“Run!” Mike screams, gesturing for you to follow. But you don’t. You remain glued to the floor, heart still racing rapidly as you ponder what the fuck is even going on.

“I said, MOVE!” Mike shrieks, the sternness in his voice starling you enough to get your feet moving, which was his intention. 

You stumbled forward just as Foxy’s hook slashed upwards, a futile attempt to lacerate you. 

Mike reached for your hand as you jumped over Foxy. Yet, just as you moved over the animatronic, he swiped again, and his hook caught your pant leg, sending you crashing to the ground. You land with a grunt

The gesture alone was enough to fuel Mike in an anger induced frenzy. Before Foxy could even adjust himself to attack you, Mike’s hands found the chair again and began slamming the chair into the head of the animatronics, sparks flying as Mike demanded you to run.

“Fucking RUN, (Y/N)! RUN!” He shrieks through rage as he continues his attack, hand to hand combat against a machine much stronger than him. But it didn’t seem to matter. For he needed to protect you.

You did as he ordered and ran without looking back, but not long after were his footsteps right behind you. 

“We need to hide. Or escape!” Mike proclaims, grabbing your hand as he approaches you. The gesture wasn’t enough to pull you from your thoughts or ground you in anyway. You were too frantic about everything going on to even consider what the hand grab could mean. For all you cared, you were just glad to be in the presence of Mike.

After a few more minutes of running, Mike pulls you into a storage closet. He turns the light on to scope the area, and once realizing the coast was clear, he closes the door.

“You almost got yourself killed.” Mike remarks.

“You called me here! What did you expect?” You retort, a little offended by his prior statement.

“You’re right, I’m sorry, I just..fuck.” He sighs, running his hand through his hair. 

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” He breathes. You nod, breath coming out shakily as you tremble.

Against his better judgement, Mike takes a step closer to you and wraps his arms around you, releasing a shaky sigh of relief.

“You’re okay.” Mike repeats reassuringly, unsure if the words were meant to comfort you or him. 

You bring your arms up and grip the sleeves of Mike’s hoodie, shaking against him as he holds you close, whispering comforting words against your ear.

“I just can’t believe you actually came.” Mike eventually says.

“You called..what else was I to do?” You retort.

“Not come.” Mike suggests with half a smile: a sign of a joke amidst the horrific chaos.

“And be without you? C’mon.” You remark with a smile mirroring his.

“Oh, hush.” Mike now fully smiles, looking away bashfully. It was that moment he realized how close he really was to you: for the first time, too. The lights begin to flicker.

“You know, for what it’s worth. Whatever happens tonight…I’m glad I came.” You say, leaning into Mike’s touch as you look up at him.

He smiles warmly, and before he could stop himself, his lips land on yours, and he’s kissing you.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t careful.

It was a declaration, a proclamation of what’s to come. It was shaky, desperate, and filled with longing: like he had been waiting to do that since the day of the sprinkler incident and the first aid kit. 

Because it was. 

And he wanted to make sure you knew it.

Until there was another flicker.

Another flash.

And then there was darkness…a noise from behind.

You pull apart and freeze, entangled in each other’s arms. Mike’s lips move against your ear with a frantic demand…

“Run.”

He opens the closet door and the two of you barrel out of the storage room, hand in hand as you sprint down the dark hallways, taking turns and corners to get away from the impending doom. Mechanical screams were heard from all areas: the ceiling, the vents, the doors, the hallways. Everywhere you turned there was danger.

Your legs ached, your lungs burned, your face was tear stained and your chest hurt from your heart racing so much. 

His body staggered, his steps out of time, his attentiveness dwindling due to the adrenaline dying down – he was crashing.

“You good?” He asks, more directed at himself than you.

“Don’t stop.” You heave, determined to crawl your way to the exit if you’d have to.

Yet, your determination wore thin at the sudden shock of a new animatronic.

Their disfigured body emerged from the ceiling vents, screeching an eerie yell that caused you to cover your ears and squint with pain. You cry out in agony as the noise hurts your brain, the animatronic turning to you sharply at the sound of your voice. Its distorted vision detects you as a target acquired. 

Before you could react in time, the animatronic lunged and swung at you, swiping you across the floor. You land face first with a crack, your chin instantly aching as you come in contact with the floor. You try to get up, but your effort reigns useless in the wake of the Mangle’s attack. The animatronic pinned you to the floor.

You screamed.

Mangle screeched.

And Mike roared.

Unlike anything you’ve seen before, Mike tackles Mangle with newfound vigor and determination.

The crash was deafening. Metal against metal – bone against steel. He grabbed a fallen pipe and jammed it against the side of the Mangle’s head, slamming the bar against its skull, sparks and loose wires flying dangerously as Mike screamed an inhumane yell, each thud of the pipe earning an even louder cry from Mike. It wasn’t until the distorted face of Mangle was brittle pieces that Mike let up, shaking and crying.

You waste no time grabbing him by the wrist and taking off again. 

You both scream.

You both run…

Until finally, one corridor you turned down, released you both with a burst of cold air, the night sky and sounds that emit from the bustling streetlife miles away engulfed the two of you in a welcomed embrace. 

You and Mike collapse to the ground outside of the restaurant, you falling on top of him as his arms wrap around you. Ignoring the cold discomfort of the concrete, you and Mike simply sob in each other’s arms as the adrenaline of the night finally began to fade.

“I still don’t know where Abby is.” Mike eventually whispers, trembling.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find her.” You remark.

Mike shifts, you getting off him to allow him to sit up. He stands, allowing you to take his hand as he helps you up. 

“And you almost…you could’ve died.” Mike says with a frown, wiping his face.

“Again…you called me here. And I wasn’t going to just let you die.” You state firmly. Mike nods, that frown still there.

“I know…I know…I just…when all of this is done and Abby is safe…I’m never going to come close to losing you ever again.” Mike says tentatively, taking a step closer to you while taking your hand in his.

You raise an eyebrow inquisitively, wondering what his words meant. But knew you could dig into the meaning of it all later.