Main AU: Last Hug

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Past Timeline: 1987

-JM-

He strode through the path with his head full. I wanted to explode, all the mixed feelings in his chest. It won't disappear, he knows very well it won't disappear. His blue pupils slowly rolled down, looking at his own feet which were moving to take him somewhere in the early morning.

"Hey, Mike!"

He wanted to be alone, but the lad's presence wasn't a big deal to him.

"Remy, hey." He flashed a crooked smile after returning the greeting from the man with reddish blonde hair, waving slightly at him who was jogging towards him as well.

Jeremy was probably the only person who didn't look at him like the others at his school, the only person who made him feel like he wasn't being judged by public for the terrible tragedy of that year, the only person who treated him normally. He was a kind young man, a bit eccentric but quite pleasant to talk to.

"What are you doing here? Early in the morning," Jeremy asked him after they were finally face to face.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I can't sleep."

"Your medicine?"

"Run out of them," he answered simply. "Uncle Henry is still sleeping and I don't want to wake him up just to say I'm going for a short walk. What are you doing here?" he returned the question to Jeremy.

Jeremy flashed a thin smile, a smile that had slowly distracted him for a while. "Work."

"Work?"

"Yeah, at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. It's been awhile now."

A shiver ran through his bones when he heard the name of the restaurant. Bad memories that happened there, yellow animatronics, voices of people screaming in shock, blood dripping, body hanging, hard slap, little girl, vanilla ice cream, sharp claws, red, red, red, red , red.

"Michael?"

The snap of a finger in front of his face made him widen his eyes, his heart beat fast and cold sweat fell from his forehead. "Sorry, what did you say just now?" His smile was awkward.

Jeremy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Don't apologize, I didn't mean to remind you of all that."

His blue eyes glanced away, his smile crooked and faded. "Why do you work there?"

The man in front of him blinked. "I need money." The answer was very to the point, he could understand that. "I just finished training with the nightguard beforehand because I had the night shift next week and then when I was going home I found you walking here alone." Jeremy smiled again, a warm smile that also fluttered his chest.

"But why does it have to be there ...?"

He didn't want to lose Jeremy.

"So what?" Jeremy tilted his head while chuckling softly. "Just an internship, a month is enough, the salary is good and it's been going on for almost two weeks. Everything is alright." Jeremy patted his shoulder. "Are you worried about me?" His grin was teasing.

His face was invaded by a burning sensation he didn't really want to admit. "Yes," he answered quietly, eyes averted. "I don't want to lose you."

Not long after, his cheeks were cupped and his gaze was forced back to Jeremy. Jeremy was standing close to him, he could feel the warmth of the man's palm, he could see the faint blush from his face. "It's okay, Mike," Jeremy said confidently. "Everything will be fine, trust me, I won't leave you."

He couldn't reply anything but a slow nod, trying to believe his words, holding firm that he would be okay.

Then Jeremy took him into a tight embrace, at least he felt better now, felt safer.

He believed those words.

---

Oh, no, no.

It's impossible.

His world seemed to be shattered after hearing the news delivered.

The contents of his stomach seemed to be turned upside down.

Is that real?

That last hug was heavy to remember, he still couldn't believe it to this day.

Until the moment where he now sat in that chair from midnight until early morning, replacing the one who was gone. A shocking accident, a tragic accident, an accident he didn't want at all.

The animatronics, the nightguard, 6 AM, fox, white fox, blood dripping, body hanging, red, red, red, red, red.

His tears rolled down from his lids, flowing down his cheeks, falling onto the floor, trembling lips. The man survived six nights, but why didn't he survive the day? Wouldn't everything be fine? Shouldn't he not leave him?

Why did it end like this?

---

Henry sipped his coffee slowly, looking out the kitchen window blankly. Last year's tragedy had calmed, the restaurant was closed again. It all felt like a curse.

He heard footsteps coming from the stairs, so he turned his face to the source of the sound.

"Michael? Where are you going in the middle of the night like this?"

The person he had just called stopped in his tracks and stared back at him. "Work."

"Where?"

"Circus Baby's."

He hoped nothing would happen to the young man.

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