To Seek the Truth (Mike Schmidt X Reader: Book 1)

Bleached

"How are you going, Schmidt?" you worried as you stepped into the changing rooms.

"Why is there so much blood?" he complained.

"I don't know," you replied guiltily.

"Aw don't worry Boss. There isn't any 'bad blood' between us."

"How can you still be making puns?"

"It's a gift."

You laughed quietly as you made your way over to the man. "How'd it go?" he questioned; sending you a concerned glance as he attempted to mop up his blood with a cloth.

"It went... good, actually. We're back on good terms," you explained as you took the cloth and gently forced Mike back onto the bench, "Ya know it helps if you actually damped it?" You sat down next to him and began to gently dab at his face. He winced slightly and you sent him an apologetic look.

"How have you been feeling?" he queried, "And I want a truthful answer."

You pouted slightly, "Does it have to be truthful?"

"Yes."

You let out a sigh as your eyes fixed themselves on the task at hand, "If I must be truthful... I feel like I'm going to pass out."

Mike shot you an unamused look, "Once we've fixed my face, we're leaving."

"What? No!" you argued, "I have to help look!"

"(Y/n) we're not even getting anywhere. You need to rest before you get worse." You opened your mouth to continue arguing when you noticed something out the corner of your eye. A locker door was open slightly, and purple fabric could be seen from inside.

"Uh, Mike?" you murmured.

"Hm?" he hummed.

"Didn't you say you couldn't find your night shift uniform?" Mike followed your gaze and confusion crossed his face. He rose to his feet and hurried to his locker; swinging the door open.

"What?" he mumbled, "I could have sworn it wasn't there." You walked up behind him as you both stared at the uniform in confusion.

"This hurts my brain," you moaned. Mike reached a hand into his locker and pulled out his uniform. He brought it up close to his face as he studied the fabric closely. You watched curiously as he pressed his nose to it and inhaled deeply.

"It's been bleached," he announced as he turned to you with confusion, "Are you sure you didn't take it?"

"I swear on my life I did not take it," you replied, "How do you know it's been bleached?"

"The colours faded," Mike explained, "The fabrics lighter and slightly more frayed. Plus, it smells like chlorine." he handed you the uniform and you began to study it yourself. Sure enough, the fabric was slightly lighter, and it definitely smelled! Upon closer inspection, you noticed a faint red mark on the sleeve.

"Blood?" you murmured to yourself.

"What?" Mike questioned.

"I think... there's blood on the sleeve," you explained as you pointed out the patch to the man. You twisted the fabric in your hand revealing a few more red marks. While they were faint, they were still there, and they most definitely seemed like blood.

"Could have been from me. Maybe I accidentally smeared some of my blood on it when I grabbed it out my locker," Mike suggested, though his eyes held doubt.

"No. The bloods faint, old. Not fresh like yours would be," you hummed in thought. Dread began to swirl inside you and suddenly your head began to feel a whole lot worse. Your knees buckled slightly and your vision grew blurry. Once again you felt that strange feeling. The one you had when you investigated Golden Freddy. That feeling that something... no... someone, was crying out to you. You felt Mike's uniform slip from your grasp and you stumbled back; the sick sensation of falling filling your senses. You did not feel good at all!

Before you could fall to far a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around you; before carefully lowering you to the ground in a sitting position. "Are you alright?" Mike questioned worriedly.

"I-I don't know," you groaned as pain shot through your head, "I don't feel well." Your friend pressed a hand to your forehead and his eyes widened slightly.

"You're burning up!" he exclaimed, "I'm taking you home, and don't you dare argue!" You didn't have the strength to protest as he scooped you into his arms. His nose had stopped bleeding, and dark bruising had taken its place, still, he seemed to care more about you than himself, and you couldn't help but admire that.

Your vision was blurry as you were carried through the Pizzaria. Henry and William's worried faces appeared above you as they attacked Mike with questions.

"What happened is she alright?" Henry fussed.

"She's not feeling well. She collapsed just before and has a fever so I'm taking her home with me to rest. I don't think she should be left on her own," Mike explained.

"Of course!" Henry replied as he sent you a worried glance.

"Hang on," William cut in, "Why don't you let her stay with me?"

"Because she stayed at my place last night and there's no point juggling her between multiple places," Mike shot back, "She'll be perfectly fine with me."

"I agree," Henry added, "Plus, Mike's really been doing her some good lately. She's actually seemed somewhat happy." Through you daze, you caught William's face screwing up at the comment. His fists clenched at his sides before he let out a loud snort.

"You don't even know her," William spat, "How do you know what's best for her?" you could feel Mike's hold on you tightening slightly.

"I never said I knew what was best."

"No, you just like to act like it."

Another jolt of pain shot through your head and you bit your lip to stop your pained groan. Mike; sensing your discomfort; pushed past William and began to walk towards the door.

"So you're just going to walk off huh!?" William shouted.

"Woah dude chill out," Fritz cried as everyone else began to enter the room. You felt so helpless, yet, even if you tried you knew you would not be able to stop the argument for your head hurt too much. There was a pain deep in your soul, and you felt as if an invisible hand were clamped around your throat. Something was wrong with this place. You just knew it. This was more than just a bug. Yet, you didn't know what.

"Hey, Jeremy?" Mike called, ignoring your violet hair friends yell, "Would please grab my night shift uniform from the changing rooms, please? It should be on the ground."

Jeremy didn't question why; simply nodded his head and hurried off. Clearly eager to escape the tension in the air.

"William! Calm. Down," Henry reasoned as he placed his hands on the man's shoulders, "For (Y/n). She's sick and we need to do what's best for her. This? Isn't helping." A fire burned in William's eyes, but a quick glance at you seemed to calm him down. Guilt crept across his face and he started to back away.

"I-I'm sorry," he muttered, "I should go." He turned swiftly on his heel and hurried away.

"What's up with him?" Kylie questioned worriedly.

"Who knows what's up with that guy," Dave snorted with a roll of his eyes. Another jolt of pain attacked your head and you let out a quiet moan.

"Mike," you mumbled. He glanced down at you in concern as Jeremy turned the corner, Mike's uniform in hand.

"H-here you g-go," Jeremy stuttered.

"Thanks, dude," Mike smiled as he hooked it over his shoulder, "We'll uh, get going." Goodbyes murmured throughout the building as Mike turned away.

"Get better soon, k (Y/n)?" Henry called after you worriedly. You rose a shaky hand in the air in a thumbs-up; before being carried out the door. You didn't trust that place. Something didn't feel right... You just wish you knew what.