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Today was the day Jeremy would pay the deposit on an apartment of his own. A place just for himself, where he could relieve some of his guilt from being a burden on Aunt Sally and Uncle Joe. He'd saved as much as he could from his pay working at Freddy's, adding to the money in his jar bit by bit. Every Christmas, every birthday, a card would be mailed to him with no return address and it would have a little money tucked inside, along with a single message that never made sense and was signed with an 'F'. It made him curious but only briefly. If the people sending the money didn't contact him for anything else then they weren't important enough to wonder over. The cash went straight to the jar.
It took him the better part of three years, from the age of fourteen to seventeen, to save enough money to move out. It took him another year to get the courage to actually do it.
Placing the jar into his backpack, Jeremy felt his nervousness creep back in. He was doing it, he was going to pay for his own apartment. He had the deposit and first month's rent and utilities in the ratty old pack. It was heavy on his back, the weight of his future living alone. He almost couldn't bear it.
But it was best for everyone, so with a hug from his aunt and uncle and a promise of help with moving his things once he had the key Jeremy set off on his bike to the apartment complex several blocks away.
===
It was near Freddy's but not in the same neighborhood as Mike and Doll. They made more together, so they could afford an apartment in a nicer place. Jeremy chose cheaply, and cheap didn't always mean safe. It rarely did.
So he was not as surprised as he thought he would be when a couple of older guys stepped out of an alley with boards and chains, eyeing him almost hungrily. He swallowed hard and swerved aside, hoping that he'd be faster since he was on his bike. Apparently these thugs were familiar with that tactic; a board hit the spokes of his front wheel, knocking him off balance and sending him crashing to the street. Jeremy struggled to get out of the tangle of metal, crying out in fear as the two young men descended on him with fists and yells.
When he woke up, he was bruised, battered, and bloodied, jaw aching and limbs sore from protecting his head and body. His backpack was much lighter now, and the old gray bike he'd had since he was a kid was gone. For a while Jeremy lay there, too weary and defeated to move. At least he'd been dragged off the street. Small kindness.
What was he going to do now? All the money he had was gone and now he didn't even have his bike to travel back and forth between home and work. He'd go back to his aunt's house an even bigger burden than before. "I'm sorry... I'm so useless," he murmured, hugging himself and squeezing his eyes shut. Tears stung the cuts and scrapes on his face, but the pain was nothing. Utterly useless and pathetic; he'd been too confident in himself, thinking he could handle being out on his own. He should have known better. His father killed himself rather than be there, and his mother abandoned him as soon as he was old enough to keep himself alive longer than a day without supervision. If they couldn't be bothered with him, how could he think he was capable of doing better?
Here is where he belonged all along, in the piles of garbage currently acting as his bed. Stupid, useless Jeremy Fitzgerald, son of the man who fucked up Freddy Fazbear's animatronics and let a killer run it like his own personal slaughterhouse.
He hugged himself tighter, whimpering even as he scolded himself for crying.
The sound of an engine rumbling passed through his mind for a moment, unimportant in his black mood. The sound came again, louder. Then a click as a door opened. Footsteps pounded over asphalt and concrete. Jeremy ignored them and the yelling. Noise. He wanted to sleep, just give up and drift away.
Hands grabbed him, startling him, and he looked up with frightened eyes to see Mike kneeling over him. He looked frantic, brushing back Jeremy's hair and feeling over his head, talking a mile a minute and cursing every other word. His face kept shifting, like he couldn't decide whether to look furious or worried. Jeremy reached up, hooked fingers into Mike's shirt, and finally let himself cry, sobbing pitifully as the man paused and then gathered him in his arms, hugging him tight.
"It's okay, Jere. I gotcha. I found ya and you're gonna be okay. Shh, c'mon. I'm takin' ya home."
Home... what home? He'd go back to the house and be more useless. The idea of it made Jeremy sick. Who would want him? His aunt and uncle would take one look and cast him out and honestly he wouldn't blame them for it. He was lucky they put up with him for eight years; his own mother barely handled ten and his father didn't even make it past five. How much of a waste was he?
He gave a little whine of protest at being lifted and hated himself for clinging to Mike as the day guard took him to a truck running nearby. He was bundled inside, Mike pulled himself into the driver's seat, and then they left behind the spot where Jeremy broke.
===
Mike didn't take him to his aunt's house. Jeremy stared in stunned silence at Doll as she tended to his cuts and scrapes, dabbing antiseptic and plastering on bandages while Mike went out for groceries. He sat on the bed in their second bedroom, stripped down to his shorts while his clothes were being washed of grime, blood, and dirt. It was the first thing that happened when Doll laid eyes on him. She had cried in shock, ordered him into the shower to clean up, whisked his clothes away but left his underwear for him, and now gave him first aid in silence. Her eyes flashed with contained anger, and Jeremy could tell she wanted to pull the whole story of what happened from him. But he wasn't ready to talk and she somehow understood and he was just so grateful that he began to cry again, shaking in place and embarrassed that he was acting this way in front of her.
Why couldn't he be strong like Mike?
He asked for the phone once he had his clothes back and was dressed. Nothing left but to admit the truth and call his aunt to let her know he'd be burdening her a while longer. Doll had given him a strange look as she held out the mobile phone, but when he reached out to take it, she clasped her hands around his.
"Jeremy, before you call them, think about what Mike said," she told him, watery smile on her face. "Do you remember? He said it to me when he left to find you after the Harrisons called to ask where you were."
"He said he would take me home," Jeremy mumbled, head bowing. That room over the garage was a place to live, but it wasn't home. He hadn't been home in so, so long. What did home feel like? He couldn't remember.
"And he brought you here." Doll finished, releasing his hands to cup his bandaged face and touch their foreheads together. "He said he'll bring you home, and he brought you here." She smiled again, eyes filling with tears. "So please, give it a little thought? If you want it, it'll be here."
She left him alone after that, headed out to meet Mike as he came in with supplies and takeout. Three little cartons of Chinese food. Three, not two.
Jeremy closed the door to the room and studied the phone in his hand.
Home. Mike took him to a place that he said was home. Did he mean home for him and Doll? Or did he mean-? No, he couldn't possibly mean that! Why would he want him? Why would he even consider taking in someone whose own flesh and blood couldn't deal with him?
His hands clutching the phone shook.
Did he really mean that? Could this nightmare be turning into a dream, and that dream to reality? This was... this was everything he longed for...!
Here, Jeremy was hugged and wrapped in warmth and love. Here, he smiled up at Mike and Mike smiled back at him. Here, Doll gave him snacks and kissed his temple and hugged him tight like she could never let go. Here, he played video games and talked freely of his interests and could be a kid.
Here, he could weep and be comforted when flickers of memories about his childhood returned in broken flashes: dirty blonde hair tied back, clear green eyes that dulled to murky color; pouty lips painted red, money spread in bejeweled hands.
Here, he could recite the commands without fear of mistakes, and Mike would sit and listen and recite with him, echoing him over and until he mastered the words bit by bit.
Here was love and warmth and belonging and shelter from grief and sorrow and pain.
Here was... home.
He dialed the numbers he recalled, decision made.
They didn't fuss much, were simply concerned that Mike and Doll understood what they were doing, that he was okay and would he still need help moving out. Yes, yes, and no. Mike and Doll would help with that last bit, he was sure of it. They asked if he would be coming back to eat.
The smell of chicken and vegetables wafted past his nose and he smiled, relaxing at last. "I'm okay. Dad brought food home so we're gonna have dinner now," Jeremy replied and closed his eyes. His choice was made, and it felt right. "Thank you, for looking after me so long. I found home again." They asked if he was sure, if he really wanted this. "Yeah. I'll be back tomorrow to get my things."
They wished him well and he did the same before hanging up and sighing happily. The weight wasn't completely gone from his shoulders -it wouldn't be until he could prove his father's innocence- but it was so much lighter now. He could breathe.
He headed out to join Mike and Doll at the kitchen table, smiling at the placing of the third carton at a seat for him. They looked at him expectantly, smiling back warmly.
"Thank you for bringing me home, Dad," Jeremy said, trying not to fall into tears as he took in the sight of them, "and thank you for helping me, M-Mom."
He was in their arms before he knew it, smiling until it hurt as they hugged him and each other, an embrace that encompassed him in their love and lifted him from the darkness of old pain.
"Anytime, son," Mike murmured before pulling back to ruffle his hair. "Now eat your dinner before it gets cold."
And Jeremy joined them in their family meal. It felt so good to be home.
END