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To See And To Hear | Chapter 4

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NOT FOR EVERYONE

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of murder and death. The concept of someone who was killed living their after-life on Earth. Dark thoughts/themes.

Run Down: Fazbear Corporation has a dark past full of death and murder. On one hand, it'd be safe to assume at least one unrestful spirit would haunt their last resting place. On the other, if they knew the plans William Afton had in store, any reason to stay should immediately be replaced with moving on as soon as possible.

It's still Friday!

_____________

Jeremy can’t help but pace in the attempt to calm his nerves as he waits.

Mike, on the other hand, isn’t nervous in the slightest. Had even put his feet up on the desk and leaned back in his chair, hat over his eyes in order to take a nap. Though this time he’s keeping all four wheels flat on the ground.

And to be honest, seeing Mike so relaxed he’s able to sleep makes Jeremy feel a lot better about the fact he’s going to be meeting another ghost. Because if someone who’s still alive isn’t concerned despite Scott having warned them it most likely won’t be a calm meeting, then there really shouldn’t be anything to worry about, right?

It would be right, if Jeremy didn’t know that Mike is the most fearless person he has ever met. Doesn’t flinch when animatronics who have discussed how they’ll kill him are standing only a few feet away. Antagonizes them at every opportunity by cussing them out proudly, though they’re starting to realize it’s done out of fondness. But his point still stands!

So Jeremy continues to pace. Thinking about everything that can go wrong. Feels himself begin to tremble as he remembers what Scott said about people who die violently, that they tend to hold resentment toward the living even if they don’t deserve it. And if Scott had almost hurt Mike even though he cares about the night guard and that’s the reason why it almost happened then-!

“Jerber,” Mike grumbles, earning a fearful squeak. “I can’t fucking sleep with your pacing, asshole.”

Jeremy immediately stops before wringing his hands in guilt. “S-S-Sorry.”

Mike moves his hat back to its proper place on his head, raising an eyebrow as he looks the ghost up and down. “What’s fucking with you?”

“I’m w-w-worried,” Jeremy murmurs. “I-Isn’t it bad Scott w-warned us?”

Mike looks up at the ceiling for a moment before shrugging. “Phone Guy and Purple Guy haven’t fucked with a lot of ghosts. But if the bastard is happy to follow Douche Bag here, sounds friendly to me. They just want to be goddamn careful. And I don’t listen to shit.”

At least it’s admitted genuine concerns aren’t always heeded by the man. But that does make Jeremy feel better. He’s never met David, but he’s heard plenty of stories. So, maybe it will be okay. Scott wouldn’t take a chance when it comes to Mike’s life. He hasn’t met Vincent yet, but he’s pretty sure the same thing can be said.

The ghost imitates taking a deep breath. Glances down the hallway in the hopes Scott appears soon. “When do y-y-you think-?”

Jeremy jumps at the sound of keys unlocking the door. Becomes frozen when he realizes that’s not the sound he wants to hear. Because keys means a living person is entering the restaurant. Meaning the unknown ghost is here before Scott is.

He’s going to be meeting them alone.

Sugar honey iced tea.

“Why are the lights on?” a voice growls, sounding almost menacing as it echos down the hallway. And then a towering figure appears at the very end, looking intimidating at such a far distance. With a fierce glare that has Jeremy thankful that, for once, he’s invisible. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Hey, Douche Bag,” why did Mike decide on that nickname!

“Fucked Up Night Guard,” and never mind, now he understands...

Jeremy holds his breath despite knowing he doesn’t need to breathe in the first place. But it’s truly terrifying watching the suited man make his way closer. Looking a lot like his disappointed father coming to lecture his disgrace of a son. He expects yelling. Possibly the demand Mike explains himself before interrupting and sending him out of the restaurant.

Instead David shoves Mike’s legs, forcing him to sit in the chair properly. “I know you weren’t raised properly, but even Eggs knows not to put your feet up on the desk.”

“I wasn’t goddamn hurting it.”

“It’s the principle of the matter, show some respect. And why are you here so early, it’s only half past 8.”

“Wanted to fuck some shit up.”

Jeremy waits, tense because he knows there’s going to be shouting. But the longer the two talk to each other without any raised voices, the more he relaxes. Up until the moment he spots a much smaller, much friendlier looking figure standing just outside of the hallway. Who’s distinctly transparent.

Any fear he might’ve felt considering this was the ghost Scott had been concerned about, and Jeremy feels nothing but pity. This ghost, he doesn’t look older than sixteen. He died a violent death with no one around to help him?

The ghost suddenly looks over at him with wide eyes. Takes a moment to glance over at David before giving a small hopeful wave toward Jeremy. One that’s immediately returned.

“Not that I love our conversations,” makes both of them jump at the hostility dripping from David’s voice. “But I came here at this time to avoid you.”

If Jeremy had to talk to the tall man, he would’ve agreed and left, no matter how much time would be wasted going home just to come back later to work his shift. But Mike only shrugs, unbothered by the fact his presence isn’t wanted. “Sorry, Douche Bag, guess you’re shit out of luck. But I can fuck off to another room, or I can help with shit you need. Your fucking choice.”

There’s a long moment of silence before a finger is pointed down the hallway. “Show me where the keys to the basement is. Your dumbass of a manager keeps avoiding my calls like a coward.”

“Not my shitty ass manager,” Mike says as he obediently stands up to lead David to the keys.

“They are whenever you’re working a shift in this dump.”

Jeremy almost follows after his friend out of habit, only holding himself back this time with a reminder he technically has a guest. And considering Scott isn’t here then the responsibility relies solely on him. Someone who has never been good at human interaction. Or, ghost interaction in this case.

Meaning he watches Mike leave with a look of panic.

“I’m Fritz,” earns a squeak of surprise. But instead of being watched with bewilderment or even annoyance, Jeremy’s only sees a smile. “Were you the friend Vincent told me about?”

“N-N-No,” Jeremy responds. Waves his hands at the way it sounded like Fritz somehow came to the wrong place. As if he was supposed to meet different ghosts. “I-I mean I’m not Vincent’s f-f-friend, but I know h-his friend! He’s late, though, s-so f-for now it’s...just me.”

That was the worst way to greet someone newly dead! He’s terrible at this, he’s going to make Fritz regret ever wanting to meet another ghost! He’ll think no one cares and this was all a big mistake agreeing to meet them and he’ll never want to talk to any of them including Mike or Vincent and it’ll all be Jeremy’s fault!

“Late?” Fritz asks, his smile growing wider instead of it disappearing. “Does he work too?”

“I don’t th-th-think so. He told me h-he follows Vincent everywhere, b-b-but h-he's never given details.” Jeremy wrings his hands. Freezes as the question fully processes. “T-T-Too? Do you work?”

Fritz blushes. “I, uh, answer the phones after hours for Mr. Harrison.”

“Like r-recordings?” he asks, a little confused. It’s a much more professional title for what him and Scott do.

“No, actual calls with customers,” the teenager clarifies with a nervous chuckle. “You’d be surprise how many parents are willing to call at midnight just to be able to book for a party. Or people who just don’t realize how late it is and wanting more information on how the animatronics work.”

Jeremy stares for a moment. Slowly thinks over what all of it meant until it registers that a fellow ghost not only has an actual job, but he talks to those who are living.

“They h-h-hear you?” Jeremy breathes. Amazed by the thought someone other than Mike would be able to actually hear him with just a phone.

“Sometimes I wish they didn’t,” Fritz grins. “There’s been a few times I sighed a little too loudly while talking to Mr. Harrison. I’m just glad I don’t really need my paycheck because at this point he’s lowered it to a dollar an hour.”

Jeremy’s mouth almost drops open at someone docking a paycheck for sighing. “Your boss s-s-sounds...”

“Controlling? Egotistical? Definitely will never figure out on his own a ghost is working for him?” the younger guesses. And even though it’s been numerous times this is someone who had a violent death, there’s no trace of malice, of anger. There’s no hint of frustration even though Jeremy certainly would be working for someone like that with seemingly no way out. Even if he couldn’t use the money, it’d still upset him!

But Fritz seems to have more control over his emotions than Scott does. Or maybe that’s just his personality. Whatever it is, Jeremy likes him. Feels guilty for ever thinking Fritz is someone to be scared of, or worried that he’d lash out at someone.

“...i-interesting.”

Fritz laughs at the very kind way of describing it. “So do you work?”

“K-K-Kind of? I help M-Mike keep the T-T-Toys out of the office,” Jeremy murmurs. Compared to what Fritz does, how can he claim he works? He can’t even get in trouble, and if he doesn’t wind the toy box in time then Mike would get killed. But if he doesn’t do it, no one will, because apparently Mari doesn’t deserve to have his music played. Even if it’s the only way to ensure Mike isn’t killed.

There may come a day when Jeremy gets as upset as Scott did due to Mike’s disregard for death...

Fritz gives him a confused look. “Why do you need to keep them out? Do they like to mess with the paperwork?"

Jeremy suddenly feels like he is completely unequipped to explain that the animatronics, most likely including Fritz’s, aren’t as friendly as believed. It definitely took him a while to come to terms with the Toys not only being murderer’s, but enjoy it. It’s not something you just say, though.

“D-D-Did you work at Freddy’s b-before?”

“For about a month,” Fritz says, his voice getting quite, eyes watching the ground as if it’ll disappear. And maybe it even might because it seems like the younger is fading. “I was a waiter before my...accident.”

Oh. So that means...

Jeremy reaches his hand out before he can think about it being a bad idea. He doesn’t touch Fritz, not wanting to make the younger uncomfortable, but his hand is almost immediately grabbed. Gently squeezed in what he could safely assume is meant to be a thank you. There’s no sudden hug like he did to Scott, but at least Fritz doesn’t get any dimmer.

“I-I-I never worked for Freddy’s b-before I died,” Jeremy offers, hoping it sounds supportive. Because he knows what it feels like, haunting an unfamiliar place he never thought would be his grave. One that was meant to be a happy memory instead of becoming a fatal visit. “It’s k-kind of cool learning s-secrets I-I-I never would’ve otherwise.”

Fritz laughs loudly, most likely not expecting such a morbid sentiment. Which Jeremy hadn’t meant it to be! “That’s true.”

“Hopefully anything you do learn doesn’t scare you away,” has both of them jumping, having missed Scott’s entrance. Despite the scare Jeremy’s just glad he’s finally here, more than happy to let the sandy haired man take over and make sure Fritz wants to come back after this. “Sorry for being late. I’m Scott, the friend Vincent told you about.”

Fritz lets go of Jeremy’s hand in order to shake Scott’s. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” Scott smiles. “I hope Jeremy has been good to you.”

Jeremy sputters, admittedly offended by the thought Scott was concerned he wouldn’t be good to Fritz. “M-M-Me? You should’ve been w-worried about Mike!”

“I’m worried about him for other reasons,” the older ghost admits.

“Jeremy’s been amazing,” Fritz reassures. Something that admittedly makes Jeremy feel a little better with the confirmation. “I’m, I was surprised another ghost would want to meet me. Usually they’re a bit possessive.”

Before he can ask what that’s supposed to mean, Scott’s nodding his head like he understands. “Vincent’s been my best friend even before I died, but I’m more just on the cautious side because I know how dangerous we can get. He hasn’t met Jeremy yet, but that’s more so on preference rather than me not wanting him to.”

Preference? Does that mean Vincent doesn’t want to meet him? What did Jeremy do someone doesn’t want to meet him!

“Bad memories?” Fritz guesses, his expression kind and voice soft.

“For different reasons.” Oh. Oh. He never thought, he never asked how or where Scott- oh no. “But you never have to worry about Jeremy and I.”

The mentioned ghost jolts when he realizes he hadn’t really been part of the conversation, quick to nod in agreement. “N-N-Never!”

Fritz beams at the confirmation they want to be friends. Jeremy’s almost scared to ask what kind of ghosts the teenagers met before, but they can talk about it later. And possibly loop back around to what was meant by being possessive. But later!

“How have you been, Fritz?”

The teenager suddenly goes pale, looking almost afraid. “I-I’ve been okay.”

This isn’t how Jeremy expected it to go. He had been emotional finally meeting someone who understood his situation, but it was definitely mostly relief rather than fear.

“You have a lot of energy, don’t you?” Scott asks.

Now Jeremy has another thing to be confused about. But Fritz understands as he nods somberly. “I’ve accidentally broken about two phones now.”

“Only two phones? You haven’t made any lightbulbs explode?”

“H-Have you?” Jeremy demands, not liking how proud Scott sounds. And what kind of broken, did the phones also explode!

“More than I can count,” Scott smiles even though he shouldn’t be. “It used to be impossible for me to walk into a room without making at least one explode.”

Fritz is now grinning. “I haven’t had anything like that, just flickering and making the room cold.”

“Well color me impressed.”

“Are we s-s-supposed t-to be able to do that?” Jeremy questions. Not knowing if he wants the answer.

“It, uh, depends on how you died,” Fritz explains. “Tragic deaths tend to give ghosts a lot of energy and they appear pretty quickly. Quiet deaths give ghosts little to no energy, and it takes them a little longer to appear. Both gain more as time passes, one just starts with a little more.”

Jeremy looks up at Scott for confirmation, only to find the older watching Fritz with suspicion. “How many ghosts have you met before us?”

“Oh! Uh, quite a few. But I’ve only met you two after I died.”

He can’t help but feel disappointed Scott and him weren’t the first Fritz met. At least that means all of his questions can get answered if Scott can’t.

...wait.

“You,” Scott begins as Jeremy can only stare at Fritz. They’re both speechless for a minute as the teenager starts to look more and more nervous. “You could see ghosts before this?”

“Y-Yeah, I-”

Fritz yelps as Scott grabs his arm before pulling him out of the office. Leaving Jeremy behind, uncertain what just happened. Hesitates before darting after the two, both from the want to not be left out and a little worried what the older ghost was planning.

He thought they would go into a more private room. Maybe to Mike in order to test something. Instead, Scott walks through the front doors.

Jeremy stops just before he leaves the restaurant. Stares into the darkness, unsure where Scott and Fritz are without bright lights illuminating the parking lot. For once in over a year he actually contemplates going outside.

It fills him with terror, thinking about leaving the one place he’s familiar with, even if he only goes out a few feet. Because Fazbear Pizzeria has been the only thing he’s ever known since his death. It’s where the Toys are, the ones who have been there for him ever since the beginning of him haunting the restaurant. It has the sound of Mike’s voice echoing through the dinning room, the only living person he’s interacted with after being nothing but invisible to hundreds of other people.

What if he gets lost? What if something happens to him? What if he just disappears?

“Hey, Jerber.”

Jeremy nearly screams at the sound of Mike’s voice, turning away from the daunting outside to see a familiar smirked aimed toward him.

“You sc-sc-scared me!”

“Sorry, Douche Bag got sick of my ass, so I came to fuck with you.” Mike looks outside then back at Jeremy’s glare. “Want to go outside?”

The ghost wrings his hands before slowly nodding. “W-W-Will...will I d-disappear?”

“Phone Guy’s ass doesn’t,” the man muses. “Irish Jig walked all the goddamn way here. Why can’t Jerber’s?”

That...is a valid question. But what if he can’t? Fritz said Jeremy doesn’t have the energy to make the room cold because he had a quiet death. He doesn’t know how Scott died, but he’s made lightbulbs explode. So what if he doesn’t have enough energy to survive like the other two do?

Jeremy suddenly offers his hand, staring up at Mike with a pleading expression. The man doesn’t say anything as he takes the ghost’s hand.

It’s warm. Instead of feeling a freezing chill when someone walks through him, Jeremy’s hand feels warm. Like it’s actually being held. And then he’s being tugged forward as Mike opens the door and walks outside.

Mike isn’t left alone in the night as Jeremy fades away. The ghost stays right by his side, not even growing dimmer as they make their way toward what sounds like an argument.

“It’s not my fault I apparently repel ghosts!”

“Who else’s would it be!”

It takes a moment for Jeremy to realize the voice Scott is yelling at isn’t familiar. And at first, he doesn’t see the unknown person. But he does sense something. Like a bad feeling. One that makes him want to run in the opposite direction.

He doesn’t resist Mike’s gentle pull as he guides them closer. “Hey, assholes, you forgot the fucking Jerber.”

Fritz gasps when he spots them. Scott turns to them with a look of remorse. And then a living shadow gives them a smile.

That. That is what’s giving him the bad feeling screaming danger.

“I’m sorry, Jeremy. I didn’t even think about it,” Scott murmurs.

“Jeremy, it’s nice to properly meet you,” the shadow greets. “Scotty’s told me so much, I was disappointed when you weren’t part of the welcoming party.”

Now that they’re closer, the shadow becomes a tall figure. With long hair tied back in a ponytail and wearing a Fazbear uniform. Who’s a deep purple from head to toe.

Scott gestures to the man, as if he doesn’t feel the paralyzing sense of terror radiating from him. “Jeremy, this is Vincent. Fritz, this is Mike. Mike, Fritz.”

Fritz stares for a moment. Gives a small wave. “H-Hi.”

“Your boss is a dick, Irish Jig.”

That earns Mike a smile. But Jeremy can’t seem to move.

“So about this repellent,” Vincent begins as he looks Jeremy up and down with interest. “How does it work, exactly?”

“I-It’s a sense.” Fritz only looks concerned. Opens his mouth to say something before deciding against it. “You feel like danger, so spirits will automatically avoid you. Some can ignore it. Others, n-not so much.”

“Fucking with shit, Purple Guy?”

“Seems like it,” Vincent hums. “Tell me everything you know.”

Jeremy has a feeling it’s going to be a long night.

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