Mable: So, two things today. Firstly, it's my birthday! Happy birthday to me. ^-^ Secondly, I wanted to point out a recent piece of fanart done by toasterwitch on DeviantArt. It's called Sad Puppets and should be under the scrap folder, so give it a look! Lovely picture. ^-^ And I'm not just saying that because I'm puppet crazy.
Anyway, I hope you Enjoy!
Almost Feels Like Home
Chapter Ten
Jeremy heard the phone ringing vaguely in the back of his mind. This still only partially woke him, and he sat upwards to look around his bedroom. It was morning already and sun poured through the windows, but he honestly had never felt so unready to start the day. He had stayed up uncomfortably late to spend time with Foxy- he didn't get him home as much now with the added animatronics- and now he would regret it. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly as the ringing stopped and, within a minute or so, heard footsteps towards his room. It was only now that he realized Foxy was no longer in the bedroom with him.
"Here he is. Give me a second." Jeremy could hear before Foxy stepped into the bedroom. He offered over his phone with a quick, "It's Fritz."
The blonde blinked briefly, rubbed his face, and then leaned over to click on his bedside lamp and slip on his semi-broken glasses. He then took the phone tiredly, "Morning, Fritz. A little early, isn't it?"
"It's never too early when you're running out of time," Fritz quickly excused. He sounded flustered, which Jeremy noticed and perked at, paying more attention to the phone as he leaned back against the pillows. Foxy sat down on the foot of the bed and then laid back over the foot. It was clear that he too was tired. "I got a call from the news this morning. They want to come and do an interview, which means I need Foxy here or they're going to start asking questions. I don't think we should open to the public- opening the day after that catastrophe is going to make us look like…"
"Like we don't care?" Jeremy guessed.
"I was going to say, 'like Freddy's', but yeah. Same difference," Fritz said with a light scoff. "So, I've got to call Mike and warn him, because he's going to have to be here. Then I can bring the van over and pick up Foxy, because I really, really don't want to get stuck trying to answer why they can't see Foxy if they ask to see him." Perhaps Foxy was listening, as he slightly turned his head and his ear twitched thoughtfully. It was almost a shame for him to leave so soon when they weren't even opening the restaurant for the public. With that thought, Jeremy got an idea.
"You know… I can move him and save you the trip. I have the tarp and he fits in the back seat. You just worry about getting ready for the news and I can bring Foxy… In fact, I'll call Mike too. I need to talk to him about something and… I'll call. You don't mind?" Jeremy asked.
"Nah, I need what time I can get to rehearse every possible question, so they don't stump me. Last thing I need is to say something stupid and get the cops back over here." There was another voice in the background that sounded like Natalie. Jeremy couldn't hear what she said, but it must've been a joke as Fritz gave a small, weary snicker and a, "I hope not, but knowing our luck, sure."
"Alright, I'll call him and bring Foxy over. See you later," Jeremy finished and ended the call. "Hey, you don't mind me calling Mike before we head over, do you? I'm guessing not. You're probably just as curious as I am," he pointed out almost playfully. He adjusted his glasses and tried to work around the cracked lens.
"No problem. I'm not looking to rush out," Foxy said. He rubbed his good hand over his face wearily and stretched out on the bed. For a moment he stayed like that and Jeremy started to dial, but then the pirate suddenly lowered his hand. "Wait a minute…" Jeremy looked up as the fox sat upwards abruptly. His eyes were widening in panic. "How long have I been out of character?"
It was the first time that Jeremy even realized that Foxy was out of character. He had dipped in and out the night before, but this was the first time that Foxy had been fully out of it without seemingly noticing it. Foxy's natural accent was even coming through, which Jeremy couldn't help but be a little curious of. He wouldn't dare say it now while Foxy was freaking out though. "You weren't doing it before bed, so I don't know. How long have you been awake?"
Apparently, this was the wrong question, as Foxy proceeded to strike his own chest in rapid succession. Jeremy's eyes widened, and he reached out to stop him. "Hey, no, wait. Don't do that. That can't be good for you." Foxy raised his hand to stop the man and continued doing it, as though it would somehow knock him back into character. As though something like that would work. The blonde sighed, "Then can you at least not use your hook?" The pirate responded by making a strange throat clearing noise and stopped the thumping.
"Yar! There we go. Sorry 'bout that, Boyo!" Foxy said, but in his pirate person. He reached out to pat the man's leg through the blanket. "Now then, call up Schmidt and let's figure out what the bloody 'ell happened last night." He then scoffed and murmured, "Like we don't know already." As his thoughts returned to the possibility of what happened to Charlie, Jeremy quickly dialed the other security guard's number. He decided to let the odd moment go, even when he inwardly noticed how frequently Foxy had been coming out of character recently. He hadn't any idea whether it was a good or bad thing.
All Mike wanted to do was stay in bed and sleep in after the night before. He could already feel the grogginess when his cell phone started ringing and roused him, and he regretted turning it back on. At least he had forgotten to turn the alarm on. He leaned over and fumbled to grab the cell phone, but by time he got it the call had ended. It wasn't a big loss; he might've subconsciously been hoping to miss the call. Now with it in his hand, he laid back against the pillows again and continued rubbing at his face.
Right when he started to relax once again, Marionette slipped in from his side of the bed and hugged tightly to Mike's side. He was clearly awake too, or at least half awake from how he clung, resting his head on Mike's chest. Mike smiled tiredly and pet along the Puppet's head, tracing along the edge of his mask affectionately. He could hear the faint, weary warbles in response. Mike hoped that at least he would sleep longer. It had been an exhausting night for him too, and much more emotionally charged than either would've wanted to admit.
Just as Mike was about to feel safe enough to shut his eyes again, the phone started to ring once more. "For Freddy's sake, it's too early for this," he inwardly complained. With a sigh, he raised the phone and answered the call. "Hello?"
"Hello, hello. It's me!" Jeremy greeted with a half yawn. "Sorry to call you so early, but Fritz said the news is coming by later, so I have to move Foxy to the pizzeria and you have to be there because you're a hometown hero… And it might just save us from the possible backlash of obviously being a Freddy Fazbear spinoff chain."
"I'm not sure if a guy who breaks into a theater and ties up a kidnapper with a superiority complex counts as a 'hometown hero'. I'd need at least one sport under my belt and a little more community service," Mike lightly joked, almost fading back out as he methodically pet over Marionette's head. Then he sobered up quickly as he realized what Jeremy was saying. "Wait, they already got my name? I can see this all going south really quickly."
"Tell me about it! Thank goodness you, Mari, and Foxy got the kids out of there. If anything happened to them then they would dig up Freddy's old graves faster than you could say… 'Wait, there were other missing children'?" Jeremy answered matter-of-factly. For a moment he sounded relieved in Mike's agreement, but then he fell quiet as he noticed Foxy looking to him expectantly. "And, uh…" He gave a light cough awkwardly. "You… You heard about Charlie, right?"
"Yeah, I was there," Mike answered. He remembered it certainly, especially with it looming in the bedroom next to his. "I'll head over there, but I won't be there right away. If Fritz asks, I have to stop by the police station on the way. I've got to show up or I'm going to look suspicious and we can't afford that. One missed interview and suddenly they'll start asking the obvious question of why I was at the theater in the first place, and the bracelet's only going to get me so far." Marionette nuzzled further into his chest, almost comfortingly. Mike traced along the side of his mask. "…But don't worry, I'll be there."
It was now that Foxy leaned over and made a grabbing motion for Jeremy's phone. The blonde looked at him questioningly for a moment before realizing what he wanted. "Uh, hold on. It looks like Foxy wants a word with you," Jeremy forewarned as he handed the phone over. "Sorry, I'm still half-awake," he apologized to the pirate as he moved his glasses to rub at his eyes again. "I knew we should've headed to bed at Midnight." Foxy silently agreed with him.
"Mornin' Mike," Foxy began. He then jumped straight into being blunt. "Let's not play games with each other. We both know somethin' happened last night that I didn't see." On the other end of the line, the security guard was almost baffled, then gave a dry sort of chuckle.
"Well yeah, Foxy. I'd say something did happen. A man kidnapped four kids and had to be taken down by Mari. I'd say something happened," Mike answered in amusement. It was all forced; somehow Mike knew exactly what Foxy was trying to ask about and naturally knew to be on guard.
"That ain't what I mean. I need to talk with Marion. Where's he?" Foxy inquired, becoming more demanding. He tapped his hook on the frame of Jeremy's bed loud enough that it could be heard over the phone. He was becoming impatient.
"He's right here, but he's still asleep. He needs the rest after what went down last night. I'm sure you'd understand that, especially since I heard that comment Jeremy said about not sleeping," Mike quipped back. Foxy was oddly silent. Even the tapping had stopped. "…Foxy?"
"You're in bed with 'im again? Schmidt, there be four bedrooms in that house!" Foxy said. He turned and scoffed towards Jeremy. "Ya hear this? An' he be bum-squabbled enough to call me out on bunkin' here!" Then he spoke back into the phone again, "It just be fer a second. Wake 'em up."
"You know, now that you went out of the way to tell Jeremy, I'm almost mortified enough to hang up," Mike flatly answered. He was then prepared to shoot Foxy down again but was cut off when Marionette reached blindly for the phone. "Hold on, I think he decided to grace you with his presence. Brace yourself." Finally, he handed over the cellphone and with a metallic sigh Marionette answered it.
"Good morning, Foxy," Marionette greeted as he drew back his arm to drape over his mask wearily. "I know what you're calling to ask about. Yes, the children are okay, yes, I attacked the Purple Clone, and yes, I recognized him." He almost hoped that covered everything, but from Foxy's discontent hum he knew that it wasn't.
"First thing's first, tell Mike I be sleepin' on the floor. I know he's looking all smug over there," Foxy insisted. Looking back, Marionette could see that Mike was only semi-smug. Though this amusement was short lived when he continued, "What about Charlie?" This was the last question that the Puppet had wanted to receive. Marionette drew away from Mike and turned over, holding the phone to him still and hesitated.
"…How did you know about Charlie?" Marionette asked in a hushed voice. His free hand tapped on the bedding, almost trembling with nerves. He felt as Mike stood and could hear him moving around getting dressed. No doubt he was still listening, but at least he was trying to seem like he wasn't eavesdropping.
"Saw her on the news, smelled the blood. What happened?" Foxy persisted. Yet Marionette knew what he was really asking- he knew- and drew his legs in closer to himself.
"She was… Hit by a car… Her body was too broken to be saved," the Puppet explained. "I- I don't even know how she got there, or why anyone would… He was a monster, Foxy. Dad would've been impressed." Foxy scoffed at this.
"Yeah, then he woulda 'disappeared' without 'o trace. Dad didn't handle sharin' too well… Had no shame though. Woulda just took out Dave and took over wherever he was doin'. Draggin' kids over to ARI kicking and screaming," Foxy partially vented. Though he then caught back on. "Yer changin' the subject… Or I'm changin' the subject. Ya didn't say... Is she there with ya?" It was clear that Foxy already knew. He sounded rather unsurprised too. He had begun to have the hunch hours ago, so now with it confirmed, he wasn't exactly shocked by it.
"…She's in Elizabeth's bedroom. I haven't checked on her yet, but I haven't heard anything either… I don't think she's awake yet." He almost jumped when Mike's hand suddenly rested on his back. Marionette trilled lightly and pressed back into the touch. He quickly started to raise back out of the decline that he was on, his tone becoming less dire. "I'm a little worried, but I found her a good enough body."
"Ah, good. I was worried ya stuck her in that fake puppet. There be no fate worse than knock-off." There was silence on the line. "…Ya did, didn't you?"
"It was that or Orville."
"Good enough." Foxy paused for a moment, shuffling uncomfortably, then added in. "Ya know it ain't yer fault, right Marion?"
"I know…" Marionette closed his eyes as Mike continued to pet over his back. "…I think I'm going to wind my box and go back to sleep if that's okay. I don't think I can come in today."
"Lad, we ain't openin' today. We got- ugh- the press sniffin' around. I ain't comin' out from behind my curtain." The desk creaked as he leaned on it. "Ya just sit tight. I'll tell ya if the fuzz swings by, yeah? Just keep an eye on… The new lass." It was weird to say, but it was true. She was the first newborn animatronic that they had in a long time. "And take care of yerself."
"I will," Marionette agreed. He trilled again as Mike's hand moved to rub his shoulder and arm. Slowly, the Puppet was lulled back into a comfortable state. He soon ended the call, to which Mike reached down to slide it from his hand. Marionette wanted to thank him for the comfort, but instead of formulating words he reverted to warbles, feeling his chest vibrating at the affection. The human was still so comforting after what he had seen the night before; it was a confirmation that the Puppet direly needed. Mike leaned down and pressed a kiss to his neck, smiling at the light trembles that came from it.
"Sorry about taking off so early. Are you sure you'll be okay alone?" Mike asked. Marionette nodded in agreement and was rewarded with a kiss to the cheek. "I'll be home as soon as I can." He then drew back, hand still on Marionette's shoulder, and reached to grab for the music box. He just wanted to make certain that the striped one would be comfortable while he was gone. Last night had been rough night for them both and tending to Marionette made Mike feel better about it.
Especially after what he had seen Marionette do the night before. Not even what happened with Charlie, but the possession of another animatronic body, and how easily he had been able to control and contort them. It was as though the Puppet was either becoming more powerful or had been holding back. That could've been frightening to anyone, but Mike wasn't anyone, and the more he thought about it the more he relished in it. The more he wanted to think about it and wanted to understand how it all worked. This wasn't the time to mention it, but he doubted the questions wouldn't eventually return.
He wound the box a little and set it on the bed. "I'll be back after PR talk with Dick Tracey and fifteen to fifty dozen reporters," Mike finished. He waited until he was certain Marionette had fallen asleep before he headed out to the living room. He flicked on the television, turned it to the news, and made himself a bowl of cereal. Not the best breakfast, but quick enough considering that he was already pressed for time. He then sat down at the dining room table, facing the living room, and tried to listen in to the television. It was, as expected, about the kidnappings and even the night before.
"The children were unharmed and suffered only minor dehydration. All of them have been returned safely to their parents and are expected to make a quick recovery. The suspect, thirty-five-year-old Dave Miller, was taken to the hospital where he was pronounced dead shortly after midnight."
The sound of Mike's spoon hitting his bowl drowned out whatever came next. "I'm sorry, what?" Mike stood from the table, mouth still full of cereal, and looked to the screen. He knew what he heard was correct. "Dave's dead?" Just so flat and panicked at the same time; both disbelieving what he was hearing and so in shock that he wouldn't argue. He pushed back his chair and hurried down the hall. "Mari needs to know this… How is Dave dead?! How exactly did he just spontaneously drop dead?!" How could foaming at the mouth equate death? What could've killed him?
Not that Marionette nor Mike would have any lasting grieving about the loss, beyond the fact that Dave effectively skirted prison time. Though that was only if one considered death as a better outcome than prison, which Mike honestly didn't. Still, he didn't think it could bother the Puppet too much. He had wanted Dave to be punished but had seemed reluctant to take steps towards anything further. He had been rather unconcerned by what happened to Dave after that, so certain that it wouldn't been an issue. So certain that Dave was not a threat. Mike's hand was about to grab the doorknob when he suddenly remembered specifically what had been said.
"He won't be our problem for much longer," Marionette had said with the upmost confidence. As though he knew that Dave wouldn't be around much longer. It was only now that Mike considered the state Dave had been in when he drug his body out of the hallway and into the office. He had already been drooling and unconscious, and his brief call after Mike hadn't been an assurance that he was all there. It was just impossible for the security guard to tell at the time because of everything else happening. Now that he looked back, it seemed like Dave ran into that hallway fine and came out mortally wounded.
"…Did Marionette kill Dave?"
Mike hesitated at the door, staring at the wood, and tried to contemplate what that meant. Did that mean that Marionette had caused his death, or did he just know that Dave was dying? Either was readily believable, but both were rather shocking. That was why Marionette had stopped his hunting of Dave and why he had lost interest in his fate; he knew he wouldn't be around much longer. Yet then he immediately recoiled. "No, he wouldn't have done that. Or he wouldn't have done it and then acted like he didn't. Besides, nowhere did Mari ever say he could spontaneously kill people."
The security guard rubbed a hand through his dark hair. He couldn't imagine what sort of power would be needed to kill someone so quickly. Perhaps the Puppet was hiding that power, but his behavior afterwards seemed to work against this. This was all too much to take in at once, especially before going in to the police station. Seeing as though he had to leave anyways, Mike decided to not wake Marionette. He turned around and headed back towards the dining room and headed to the front door, ignoring what remained of breakfast in favor of getting out of the house.
"I'll tell him about Dave later. He's got enough to worry about." The world would be a safer place without Dave, he supposed. Even if he couldn't help but still be in shock. Thirty-five years old and lost his life trying to replicate Freddy's. With an unsettled shudder, Mike wondered if he could've been in the same boat if things had went differently. Part of him suspected that he could've been.
Foxy waited until Jeremy drove off before he headed to the office. He was glad that Jeremy didn't guilt himself into staying. Always the nervous type, Jeremy wasn't the type that would do well with talking to the news. That and Foxy felt the need to protect him. If he could do that through making sure he went home, then that was some sort of victory. He nudged open the office door and found Fritz inside. The technician was slumped onto the desk with his head resting on his folded arms. The animatronic stood over him with a weary sigh.
"Ya need to get yer mind off of work," Foxy remarked rather loudly. Fritz shot upwards in a slight panic at the sudden voice. The pirate slightly scoffed at it. "Back at the warehouse? Yer gonna run yourself ragged, Smith."
"I know, but I needed something to take my mind off of things…" Fritz admitted with the slightest bit of shame. He started to stretch and stand from his seat. With a shake of his head, Foxy turned to leave the office. The technician noticed this and called after, "Wait. Before you go, can I… Ask you something?" Foxy's pausing at the door showed he was agreeing to such. "It's about your programming."
"Ya mean it's about Baby," Foxy clarified. He leaned on the doorframe. "What is it, Mate? Havin' trouble crackin' the code?" Fritz nodded in agreement. "That's cause a lot of it's up here. Ya wanna break through it, ya gotta have two things: stubbornness an' luck. Ya ain't got those, ya ain't got nothing," he said, tapping his head.
"That's easier said than done. I'm looking to get rid of Baby's reflex to attack kids. The coaxing in and grabbing with the claw," Fritz remarked. "And I'm trying to do it manually because Baby's not awake-." Foxy stopped him by raising his hand, then pointed at the technician.
"That be the problem. Ya can't break a habit if she ain't workin' to stop it. It's more than code; yer reprogramming the brain. Or, at least, ya are when ya ain't got coding to rely on." Fritz immediately looked discouraged and dropped his gaze to the Handunit on the edge of the desk. He had no doubt that he wouldn't get full willingness from Baby. "She's always been like this," Foxy said as he leaned on the desk. "Baby never had to do anything fer herself when she was a kid. She wants everythin' done fer her, an' then she'll act like she's queen. Drama queen."
"I know…" Fritz tapped his fingers on the desk. "I know Baby wants an easy way out, I mean. I do too, but I'm just… I'm not a good enough technician. Chance, maybe. Not me."
"Don't say that," Foxy suddenly snapped with a low growl. Mostly because he didn't like even thinking of Chance after what had happened. Secondly because he was growing weary of the lack of confidence circulating the pizzeria. Yet he also understood it; Fritz had been working nonstop with no avail. The pirate hadn't really been supportive either, as his past with Baby was beginning to leave him more bitter. He didn't want to help her when she wasn't helping herself, and still he was tempted to help Fritz. He tiredly let his head drop and gave a metallic sigh. "I'll help ya out."
"You will?" Fritz asked in surprise. "You know about breaking this programming code?"
"I don't know nothin' 'bout that, but I know a couple 'o other things," Foxy said was a dismissive wave of his hook. He then backed to the couch and dropped onto it lazily. "First thing's first; whaddya doin' to fix the code?"
"I can't delete it, so I'm replacing it." Foxy gave a nod of understanding. "Replacing it all doesn't work, so I've been trying to replace one at a time. For instance, the urge that on sight of lone child she grabs them. I tried to substitute it out with the stimulation to want to make ice cream. Even though her ice cream maker is broken… If there at all anymore." He trailed off when Foxy shook his head. "Not good?"
"Ain't gonna work. It's like this: ya can't fit a square peg in a round hole unless it be smaller, an' then it ain't gonna fill up that hole. Ain't gonna fit right, ain't gonna stick. Ya need somethin' equal… Like this." Foxy gestured with his hand as he began to list. "Instead of grabbin' the kid, replace it with a program fer the claw the clamp in on itself on sight and not open until the kid's gone. Suddenly her body's movin' the same way it already be programmed to, but Baby ain't capable of hurtin' kids. Ya just use her ticks against her."
"…That's actually a really good idea." Fritz grabbed his pen and paper and started to jot it down. "What else?"
"Since it's all in the same location, ya hook up that ice cream maker programmin' and connect it to when she opens up. Suddenly, Baby's tryin' two commands at once. It shorts the whole thing out." Foxy laughed at the thought of Baby staggering in place, stuck between making ice cream and opening herself up. Maybe that would take some of the threat away. He then stood abruptly and circled the desk. "What else am I forgettin'? How much more?"
"There's a few things. I don't really want to take away her more flexible abilities, but I need to get rid of William's control." It was then that Fritz became curious and looked up at Foxy, who was now leaning over his shoulder to look at the pad. "Hey Captain, was there any programming that you had to get past? Not stuff like singing songs at certain times or a day and night mode, but something bigger?"
"Yeah, huntin' people wearin' purple," Foxy quipped. "It was a damn shame too, 'cause I be the captain of the hunt. You better believe I caught more of 'em than any of the others."
Fritz took one look down at his purple uniform and decided to change the subject back to Baby.
It was a couple of hours later when the press arrived. Now, when Fritz had talked on the phone with the planner he had assumed that one news crew from the local station was going to come by. Perhaps maybe someone from the paper as well. Instead, there were numerous people. Some even looked to just be spectators or were simply unidentified crewmembers dressed very casually. He was almost relieved that he had forewarned Natalie and Tabby not to come in. That didn't mean Fritz wanted to face it alone. He was just about to call Mike when his car pulled into the back. He met him at the backdoor.
"I'm shocked you didn't just turn around and drive home," Fritz remarked as he held the door for him. "Do you see this? I don't remember anyone saying anything about a mob."
"And an unprofessional one too. I don't even see a single pitchfork or any 'Hurricane Hates Foxy' posters. What a shame," Mike limply mocked. He seemed much more tired than he should've been. "Sorry for cutting it close, but I got held back at the police station. They had me retell my story on tape, had me write it down, got asked again about Freddy's- two cops then started talking about the Freddy's case while I was standing there. You better believe that was uncomfortable." Fritz didn't even have to ask; he knew what it was like to be directly interrogated so he understood this.
"Please tell me that they didn't say they were coming back here," Fritz murmured. "As though business couldn't take a big enough hit with the kidnappings."
"No, I don't think… Or at least, I hope so." As he stepped into the dining room, seeing a few people already let in, and exhaled wearily. "Let's get this over with."
The interviewer was a woman in her late thirties or early forties with sandy colored hair. She almost looked like Rhonda, or perhaps Mike was just blurring everyone out. He watched as Fritz talked with the woman and only paid half attention, only hearing her mention once that the interview would be live. "That's going to be a killer. Mental note: try not to look suspicious when they too ask about Dave," Mike thought as Fritz approached him. "What's the deal?"
"They're going to put mics on us and then we're good to go. Ready?" Fritz asked, clasping his hands together, looking strained. "Because I'm not! I… I totally forgot our story."
"We weren't connected to the pizzeria fire, the kidnappings, the numerous dead people, or any animatronics running wild… Actually." Mike perked as a new idea came to mind. "Actually- this is live, right? I should call Mari and get him to watch this. He'll be able to tell me how psycho I look. Could give you a couple more minutes to wipe the sweat off your forehead." This wasn't entirely true. It was also to ease himself by getting Marionette's encouragement. He turned to step into the Prize Corner and dialed the home phone number. Yet to his concern, there was no response. It seemed unlikely that Marionette was still asleep, so he dialed again, and again there was no response.
"Maybe he's out of the room… Maybe Charlie woke up." That was almost a terrifying thought. The one time he had to be out of the house and he probably was needed. With a small sigh, he hung up the call and replaced the phone in his pocket.
Hopefully Marionette could handle it until he got home. For now, it was time to smile for the camera.
Marionette was startled awake by the sound of ringing. He pushed himself off the bed, having somehow gotten face down in the time he was sleeping, and tried to listen closer. The music box had run out some time ago and a glance at the clock showed why. It had been a few more hours and he doubted that Mike had returned, which meant the ringing wasn't him. It didn't sound like the smoke alarm either. In a matter of seconds- all of this had been in a period of perhaps ten seconds- he realized that the noise was coming from the next room. It was Charlie.
In an instant, he was off the bed and teleported into the pink bedroom. "Charlie?!" It didn't take him long to find her on the floor beside the bed. She was making confused ringing noises, trying to keep herself upright, and grabbed around in a sort of frenzy as she tried to get her bearings. Her features weren't yet adjusting to her expressions, but when she looked to him- trembling and trying to press back away- he could feel the fear radiating off her. It hurt more than he imagined it would have.
"Oh, Charlie…" he softly sympathized. Waking up the first time was never easy. His was tolerable enough, as his first memory as the Puppet had been of Golden Freddy holding him and softly comforting him. The guilt returned as he mentally scolded himself for not being in here with her, even if he didn't know if she would've reacted any better. She needed that comfort now. He moved in carefully and lowered to the carpet, showing that he wouldn't make any sudden movements, and started to reach for her. She flinched in fear and he immediately withdrew; not yet.
"I know you're probably frightened and confused…" As much as Marionette wanted to continue with that cool demeanor, his body betrayed him. His internal gears and cylinder made an obnoxious clank in response. He tried to suppress it, but his emotions were coming out. "Charlie, I'm so sorry…" The metals inside began to tremble and rattle, making it harder to still his vocal projection. "I di- I didn't know what else to do. You were so fa-ar gone…" He just barely managed to resist the tears, but they tried to return when he looked to her again. She looked so helpless like this. He needed to do something more.
Once again, he tried to reach for her, and now she was finally calmed enough to accept it. He held her close and wrapped his arms tightly around her, as though attempting to protect the other puppet from the flood of emotional turmoil that would come from something this devastating. He then found his voice and proceeded to babble in a panicked frenzy, like the Phone Guy trying to talk himself out of his final night. ""It's going to be okay. It's a new day and… I'll make sure you're safe. I can take care of you. We can take care of you… You won't be alone…"
He meant every word. Regardless of if she was Golden Freddy's daughter or not, he would protect her, he would keep her safe, and he would do whatever he could to fix his role in letting her become this. For a moment, he felt slight annoyance at the sensation of wetness dripping on his fabric. Of course, crying again, "For heaven's sake, not now. I can't fall apart when she needs me." He subtly brushed the wetness on his chest and then reached to wipe his mask. His hand stopped midway when he realized that the tears on his fingers were a dark blue instead of purple.
They were Charlie's tears. Even though she was still against him, she was silently crying. He held her tighter in the hope to somehow ease her.
What a time for Mike to be gone.
"It is a horrifying thought that four, loved children could be snatched so easily in daylight," the interviewer sympathized in a rather over-dramatic tone. "Mr. Schmidt, please explain how you were able to find these children."
Mike had only partially been listening and was half lost in his own thoughts, so it was fortunate that she said his name early enough that he could brace himself. Absentmindedly fumbling with the microphone, he began to go over his answer.
"We've been running test on security bracelets that children would wear during parties to keep an eye on them. These bracelets would effectively keep an extra eye on children in situations where they might not be as easy to watch. Of course, we watch our kids-." Mike gestured to Fritz who nodded in agreement. "But we're looking into more ways of keeping a sharp eye out. One of our girls, frequently comes here, was trying out the bracelet for us when the, uh… The 'event' happened." He put the word in air quotes.
"Fascinating! And what led you to this idea?"
"Actually, it was Fritz's idea," Mike passed off. It took the technician a moment before he realized he was called on upon.
"Yeah, uh… It's kind of hard to explain. It was sort of an epiphany one night and was just there," Fritz vaguely explained. It seemed to work well enough. "But we weren't expecting to have to use it anytime soon, obviously. The kidnappings drew attention, but who actually thinks that something like that is going to happen?" He gave an awkward sort of smile.
"Well, it saved the day in this case. I suppose this means that security at Foxy's is going to evolve after this incident?"
"I wouldn't say it would evolve after what happened," Mike corrected. Suddenly he was a tad more interested in the conversation, or at least in defending his position. After all, he was the only employee currently playing the role of a security guard, and even then, he dabbled frequently into the management aspect. "We've been trying to work on new ways to keep the children safe since we opened and it's one of the first things we look into when we have free funds. As it is, we have a full security system and cameras. The bracelets are just the next step."
"Do you think that family eating establishments are natural targets for predators?" The reporter's expression turned from sympathy to a dramatic sort of seriousness. Mike had no doubt that these questions were probably more for attention than actual inquiry, but he was willing to speak his mind.
"I could say so. Though unlike some establishments which are willing to ignore repeated threats and pretend that they didn't exist- I don't mean Magictime Theater, don't think that's aimed at them- we at Foxy's are actually seeing what's happening and will make this restaurant as safe as possible." Mike noticed Fritz was now staring at him with an unreadably horrified look. In the back of his mind, Mike vaguely realized that he was saying a bit too much. Yet after the frustration with the detective, he had to speak his mind. "Our goal is to keep the children safe and entertained. Whether they be inside or in the parking lot. Again, not a knock at Magictime."
"Are you aware of the children who went missing at Freddy's?" the interviewer inquired. "I suppose that would be a cold case now, but it does seem relevant."
"Yeah, it's… It's eerie," Fritz vaguely answered. He was clearly trying to keep distanced from Freddy's. "We've gotten quite a few questions about Freddy's-."
"I think everyone knows about Freddy's," Mike quipped with a small smirk. "Nobody really wants to talk about Freddy's, but we all know about it. I mean, I guess it's not something that just comes up at the dinner table." Fritz intended to interrupt and stop his partner before he said something that they would both regret, but the interviewer did it beforehand.
"There have been reports that the kidnapper, Dave Miller, had worked at Freddy's Pizzeria. These are unconfirmed, of course, but what do you think about the possibility that he worked that close to the last incident?" the interviewer inquired. "Could it be possible that he related to those past disappearances? Or more troubling, that he was… Let's say, inspired by these crimes."
"I'll answer that," Fritz volunteered. Maybe because of Mike's semi-outburst, but Fritz suddenly switched from flustered and docile to determined and much more even toned. Perhaps this was his 'public relations' mindset, and if it was then he switched at just the right time, because Mike knew he wouldn't do well talking about Dave. "Look, I don't know much about Dave, but considering his rap sheet, I don't think it's that hard to find a connection. Freddy's was just a pizzeria years ago and if he was connected then so be it, but it's obvious that his real problem was with addiction. If anything good comes from this, maybe some people who have a problem will want to get help."
"So, you think it was the addiction that led him to these crimes?"
"Absolutely. No rational person would stand up one day and say, 'I'm going to kidnap children'," Fritz said. Mike silently considered Afton and briefly wondered if he had that sort of motive. Then he shrugged it off. Afton's decisions were even beyond drug-fueled hysterics or copycat desperation to cling to the past. There were no doubts in his mind that Afton was just demented in some disturbing way. Fritz continued, "We were even considering the prospect of maybe having, I don't know, maybe putting up some posters or something to support kids in not getting tempted by drugs. It's not a big problem in this city, but it could be."
"I, for one, think that would be a great idea. It's about time that we had more children's mascots trying to promote a healthy, drug-free lifestyle. We would love to see what you do with it." Fritz flinched and gritted his teeth, suddenly realizing what he had unintentionally agreed to. "If you don't mind, we would actually like to hear more about the pizzeria. We know it's been booming in popularity since the opening. Maybe you could show us some of that pirate charm?"
What followed next was nothing less than free advertising. Mike and Fritz led the woman and the camera crew around the pizzeria, showing off what was there and giving a small presentation of what they had. They did ask to see Foxy and the animatronic managed to cooperate, but it became apparent from the pirate's twitching and occasional rattling growl- neither of which were noticed by the newcomers- that he was agitated. Most likely from the multiple comments about Freddy's and Dave himself. Mike decided not to poke the bear, or fox, and didn't pull him aside to ask.
Thankfully, the interview ended after about thirty minutes. The interviewer left quickly, and the crew remained to gather the equipment, but Mike and Fritz were effectively let off the hook. Though only then came the regret.
Mike sat down next to Fritz, who was sitting on the edge of the stage looking as defeated as could be, while the security guard just looked exhausted. "…Fritz, what exactly did we just do?"
"I think we pretty much admitted that we're well aware of what happened at Freddy's, talked down all of our competitors in an attempt to jab at Freddy's, and then willingly volunteered ourselves to run a drug awareness campaign," Fritz answered as he rubbed over his face wearily.
Mike rubbed over his face with exasperation, "Yeah, that's pretty much what I expected to happen… Can't get any worse."
"You want to bet? Look at the door," Fritz pointed out. Mike looked out to see a familiar woman entering the pizzeria, Kathleen, Chrissy's mother. No doubt Kathleen had come by to ring his neck for letting Chrissy get kidnapped in the first place. That, or for the monitoring bracelet, which he had not mentioned to her.
"Oh, this isn't going to go well," Mike murmured. He then noticed the still lingering camera crew. "And the equipment's still here to record it. That's going to be great." This would end badly, Mike was certain, and Chrissy would be barred from visiting the pizzeria. That would break Marionette's heart if that was the case. "One of us is going to have to go explain ourselves." Fritz stayed completely silent and made no attempt to stand. "…Thanks for the offer, but I should handle this myself," Mike sarcastically quipped as he stood and headed over. The woman looked slight flustered when she came it, but immediately looked to him.
"Hey Kathleen," Mike led in. "I can't say I wasn't expecting you to come by. The press is all over-."
He was promptly cut off when Kathleen strode forward and threw her arms around him. Being hugged was the last thing that Mike could've expected considering the situation at hand. It was a pleasant surprise, even it did take him completely off guard. It was once she started to spill out endless thanks that he decided to hug her back. It was only now that he thought of all the parents who had gotten back their children, and for a moment he did feel like a hometown hero.
"Aww, that's kind of nice," Fritz remarked with a small smile as he watched the scene. Perhaps this wasn't as bad as they had anticipated it to be. It could always be worse, and four living children was still better than last time.
Of course, this was when Foxy wandered up behind them before hunching down and dropping a hook onto his shoulder. He then leaned in and whispered harshly, "Captain Foxy, scourge of the seven seas, can't go talkin' to the kids 'bout not takin' drugs! I'd be lookin' like a total nark!"
Good thing Foxy was there to keep them grounded.
Mable: Remember, as grim as things can seem, there's always a silver lining. I hope you enjoyed, and the next chapter will be posted sooner than later!