William is made aware of some displeasing actions and a special occasion prompts the Puppet to prepare a surprise for its child.

Trigger warning for attempted murder/child murder as well as fantasizing about that sort of thing.


If silence is golden then why am I screaming the things that I know I should hold in?

He closed his eyes as he got out of his car. The renovations had started and he'd spent the whole day overseeing the process. He was mostly pleased with the work, but felt as though he had to hold those people's hands for too long. Could they really not figure out what they were supposed to do on their own? He and Henry had instructed them accordingly multiple times so they'd do a fine job without much assistance from the two men. Well, that was what happened when the only construction company closest to you resided in a little town like this, where the largest projects they'd gotten were to build mansions for the rich. So long as they got the job done. There wasn't even that much for them to revamp, which was why he'd strongly negotiated for them to not be paid as much as they normally would have given how they weren't doing a particularly hard project. Tear the walls they didn't need down, fix those that were still up, fix the ceiling/floor and that was pretty much it. They didn't have to built a foundation or anything of the sort. He expected professionalism for the money that came out of his pocket…

This was the last time he let Henry cheapskate their diner. William had only agreed to this was because there were no other options available, but the next company they hired would be the best, no matter how difficult, or costly it'd be to get them to come all the way to Hurricane. Breathing in deeply, the man made his way to the front door, letting himself in. What a long day this had been, and he desperately needed a break after the idiots he'd had to deal with.

His eyes searched the house for any signs of life. His sons seemed to be in upstairs, doing God knew what. Although, he did have an idea about what his eldest was doing. The only person that was present downstairs was his wife, who was sitting on an armchair in front of the television. The goggle-box was not turned on however.

"Hello, dear. How've you been since I left?" he asked, hoping to get a reaction out of her. Perhaps she was sleeping, if she hadn't commented on his arrival. Though that wouldn't have been the strangest thing she'd done.

"Sit down, Bill." that elegant voice of hers that he adored answered. He detected more behind it, which was not much of a surprise. No greeting, no loving remark, so then anger, or no- wait, it wasn't rage. It seemed more like irritation? Now she'd made him curious as to what had gotten her so. William did as she instructed, taking a seat on the opposite recliner next to her.

"Is something the matter? You seem tense?" it was evident she didn't want him to be the first to engage, but he did it anyway. It was better to have the means to shut down an argument before it began. He loosened his tie while he waited for her.

"Were you aware that Michael has started bullying Evan?" that's what this was about. The man let out an internal sigh. And here he'd thought he'd get to talk about an important matter.

"Bullying him, Laura? Why, I think you've confused his actions. No, Michael wouldn't dare bully his brother, regardless of how much he'd like to. He knows what would happen if he were to treat Evan badly. Rest assured that I've seen their little squabbles and to be perfectly honest, I was taken aback by the fact that Michael had taken the initiative to help his brother come out of his shell. He's spending more time with Evan, offering him advice on how to not get bullied by the children at kindergarten. All they are doing is playing together, and I'm happy they've started bonding, even if it came after so long. Of course, that doesn't change my mind about Michael, but it does raise my opinion of him. It would seem that he may have a chance after all, so no need to worry about them, my dear. They're fine." Laura took in a short breath, not believing him yet. She'd need some more convincing then.

"Whatever you saw was not how they are when no one is looking. If Michael thinks that scaring Evan to the point of tears is helping him become more "assertive", then he's sorely mistaken. You want to know what he did? Just today he hid in Evan's bedroom and made him scream so loud I thought something might've happened. When I went to check there I found Mike laughing while Evan was balling his eyes out, mocking him for making a funny face. Then he had the audacity to say that it was to help him realize the other children would not stop bothering him unless he changed his attitude. I thought they were only playing, but Michael is enjoying what he's doing to his brother, which is no different than the kids at kindergarten. He's tormenting him, Bill." good, he was glad to have confirmation that his eldest was listening to him, and so effectively at that. Some praise was required then, just to be certain his son wouldn't be deterred by his mother's more… delicate side.

Sadly, Laura didn't understand what needed to be done in order for their boys to not be stomped on when they became adults. But he'd take that responsibility if he had to, William couldn't permit them- Evan largely- to rot away due to some menial weaknesses. There was no place for weakness in the real world. He'd educate them on that on his own if necessary. However, it was concerning that his wife's behavior was becoming more problematic by the day. That would need to be sorted out as well.

Later.

"Do you seriously"

"-And you know what the actual funny thing was? Michael said you told him to act that way towards Evan."

Of course, he'd slip up, the brat. William hoped he'd done it to convince his brother that what the two of them were doing was completely fine, and he did not just blurt that out to boast or something equally stupid. It would've been more excusable if Michael meant to persuade Evan. There had been a point to having Elizabeth keep quiet about this- the man did not think he'd have to tell his oldest to be careful about who was near when he had his fun, but clearly, he'd been wrong.

"And you believed him? Laura, a boy that would say anything to not get in trouble. That would lick my boots for attention? That has always lied to us on every occasion he's got just so we'd leave him alone. Him. Why would I ever tell Michael that it'd be okay for him to torment his brother?"

"I have no idea, William. That's what I wanted to ask you. Why did you give our son permission to maltreat his younger brother? He was very adamant that you allowed him to do so."

William's fingers dug into his palm as he kept his other hand on the armrest. His eyes trailed on the stairs, where he kept them for half a second, his expression as calm as it came. Why was she suspecting him like this? In the past she would've been the first to deny such a claim, scolding her son for coming up with these insane lies.

Oh, his darling wife had changed, and not for the better. She was slowly leaving his grasp, and that, well, he just couldn't have. What it was that had triggered this was irrelevant. His wife's course correction would come sooner than he might've wanted. He thought he could wait for a little while after the diner opened, but now she'd made it evident he couldn't postpone it that long.

William looked back at Laura.

"Laura, listen to me. I do not have the best of opinions concerning our eldest, but because I hold his younger brother in a higher regard, I would never, ever tell any of them to- to bully, or make each other cry, or what it is that you are insinuating. I would never instigate them to abuse one another." he paused. "Dear, Evan did not just run away from you and his siblings. He also ran away from me. You were not the only one affected by that. I know I am often blunt, and that I act distant, but I do care for them, and having Evan be bullied after what he went through due to what was our fault, is the absolute last thing I want. I want him to get better, Laura, to feel safe in his own home, to not feel the need to run away because his parents are arguing, so... If what you say is true, then I promise you that I'll personally see to it that our son stops his attempts at making Evan's life miserable, and focuses on actually helping him. I am sorry that I didn't see it before, but I genuinely thought that they were only playing. Even after all this time I too can be fooled by our son's deception, as regrettable as that is. I understand that I should know better by now, but I… I wanted to believe that Michael had changed his ways, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I was not involved, but I did make a mistake, one which I intend to correct right now." the man rose from his seat, reaching over to kiss his wife's forehead. She did not react. Had he been holding Michael's head; it would've been snapped.

William let go of the sides of her head, staring apologetically at her. Laura's expression was one of doubt, but she'd also been stunned. Perhaps the dramatic flair had been used too much, but he'd gotten her to remain silent. Admitting his shortcomings was so atypical of him it was a proven method to stupefy anyone who knew him. It'd be vastly unexpected. Indeed, switching his tune so rapidly was a bad move, but she'd forced him to do so. He'd applaud her if they were in a play. But with his wife's newfound… boldness, he would call it, there came threats he'd have to be mindful of. William could no longer afford to relax, even in his own home, which made everything more stressful to be sure, but he liked the new challenge his Laura presented. Two could take part in this new dance of hers, but he'd be the one with the more impressive performance. In her disfavor, the game had been rigged from the start. Still, he'd have fun with this… charade, but before that could happen, he'd need to resolve a more pressing issue.

Having told his piece, he walked up the stairs, ignoring what it was she wanted to say next, his eldest's room being the destination. He stopped before grabbing his son's handle. He could hear Michael singing along to a song even with the door closed, probably listening to his Walkman. William snarled internally.

The itch to kick down the door, barge in and smash his son's head against every piece of furniture until his skull split and gray matter poked out scratched at William's brain. It sent chills down his spine, making the man feel his hands reach forward on their own to try and gouge out eyes that weren't there. They shivered in anticipation as his face turned red with anger.

It's always you, Michael. You unthankful waste of space.

He pushed open the door to enter then shut it, charging at his son, who'd been caught off guard.

You can't do anything right? Why are you still here?!

He covered the boy's mouth so he wouldn't scream and pulled him by the hair down on the carpet.

What sacrifices haven't I made for you?! Why the hell haven't you run away, boy?! Are you begging me to rip out your heart and shove it down your throat?

The first hit would leave a bruise bigger than the rest, which had yet to heal correctly. The boy cried out only to abruptly stop when the air was punched out of his lungs.

Do you want me break your ribs and watch as you choke on your own blood!? If you thought last time was hell, you haven't seen nothing yet, Mike.

Bone audibly cracked under his knuckles, but the man ignored it, his fingers now moving to crush the boy's left shoulder so tightly tears were running down his face. Silver eyes focused on the back of his son's head. A quick twist and it'd be over. One less burden to bear.

He was getting bored of this song and dance where the boy never learned despite every single time hurting more than the last. He'd gotten his second and third and fourth chances and he hadn't learned crap.

He was doing their family a favor if he went through with this. He'd been dying anyway to find a reason to murder something. This one was like a shattered mirror of himself, his carbon copy just without any of the qualities to make it.

A parasite. A leach that was entirely dependent on him to survive.

A pet that was supposed to cheer up his life but only sucked the time, resources and sanity out of him.

He clasped the boy's hair and twisted his head to the side the next second. The last sound Michael made was a whimper, but the crunch… Hearing the spine and cartilage snap like that…

William shuddered. The itch was suppressed.

He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath.

How simple, how easy it would've been to give in and go through with it. The tiresome part would've been getting rid of the body while his wife was in the house. She'd have had to die too, but that wouldn't have been too grueling either. Then Evan and Liz would've belonged to him and him alone. They would've been his to cultivate as he saw fit with no distractions.

But questions would've also been posed. People would've noticed, friends would've been worried. Laura and Michael were tied to him, which would've invited too much attention to fool himself out of, and if he would've suffered for it, his daughter and her crybaby brother would've starved to death on the streets.

The itch would have to be held under control the old-fashioned way. At least until he found a more… forgettable victim. One no one would miss or notice disappear.

He would keep his voice down, but the message would stay the same. Words were more powerful than blows could ever be, if less satisfying, but well, beggars couldn't be choosers, could they? It was unfortunate that Elizabeth was at a friend's house. She would've made keeping his composure much easier. She was the only person he found that could keep the itch from disturbing his mind. More of a reason she was so deserving of his love. Oh, how he missed his little girl. What she wouldn't do for her father… She was an angel. Instead, he had to deal with morons like her deadbeat older brother.

Ah, but that boy was his child as well. A black sheep, but one that belonged to him. And as its father, William was in charge of shaping it up to be the best version of itself, as tedious and hopeless of an undertaking that seemed to be. And was. But maybe, just maybe there was a possibility that if he invested enough time and effort, Michael would surpass his expectations. If not, well, the neck snapping was always a viable option. For now, though, he wouldn't give up on the boy.

For now.

Grinning from ear to ear, William knocked on his son's door. Some disciplining was in order.

o0o

Mari had hugged him for a long while after he got out of bed. It had spooked him a little, considering how every night they'd cuddle, but the Puppet's affection was never unwelcomed. It always brightened his day, and now he had an extra reason to be happy, so who could've said no to it?

He finished getting dressed before stepping out of his room. An alluring smell was coming from downstairs, which meant that what Henry was cooking would be delectable. The man could've made an easy career out of cooking if he'd wanted to. There weren't any restaurants in Hurricane that quite compared to his skills, so it was disappointing that he'd chosen to go down the path of robotics instead. Maybe he hadn't gotten the chance to show how good his dishes were to anyone outside of relatives and close friends so he'd used the talent as more of a way to be covered whenever he had to cook for Charlie and himself. It took a considerable amount of skill to impress Matthew, in part thanks to his father who had the habit of traveling to Italy every holiday he could where he'd take the boy and his mother with him. They'd visit new places each time they went there and always try to eat new things, tasting every traditional dish a village, town or region had to offer, causing the boy to inherit his father's "quality food detector", so the fact that Henry passed said detector with flying colors went to show his dedication and knack for cooking.

However, Henry's most outstanding talent was the passion he put into everything he did. The man was a master at any craft he put his mind to, which was why his creations always seemed to have that spark of life that couldn't be replicated by someone who only built machines out of necessity. All that was built by Henry could be described as special or lively. Mari was the perfect example. The Puppet had been unique from the get-go, before it had acquired its awareness, as it liked to say. It was understandable that Willy would become envious of his business partner if the man could produce lifelike robots with no help from the bane that was Remnant. Matt would say the two were matched in terms of smarts, but Henry simply had the capability to put love into what he did, whereas William invented stuff with the goal to either kill, deceive or outclass. It might've been why Afton started his killing spree, he'd probably learned of the haunted metal's existence after he killed Charlie and then decided to obtain more of it to become immortal and to recreate the realness Henry's bots had. Or, well, the novels suggested something like that. This William's motivations weren't clear to Matthew. Admittedly, he hadn't spent much time around the man to gauge his actual goals, but all he seemed concerned with was his restaurant really.

In any case, the point was Henry was an excellent cook, and the boy was dying to check out what was for the menu this morning. His adoptive sister however, had other plans, it seemed, as the moment she spotted him going down the stairs she charged at him, arms outstretched, and pulled Matt into a crushing hug.

"Ah, uh, what's the occasion, Charlie?" he patted her back, hiding his gasps for air. The girl laughed at his cluelessness, before deciding to paralyze him by doing something unforgettable. With one hand, she angled his head so that her soft lips could be pressed against his left cheek for a couple of seconds. A flash of a camera and a giggling chime from the couch told the boy Mari had just taken a picture of them.

The smooch didn't last long, but it was enough for Matthew to remain frozen in place, staring into thin air without blinking as the girl retracted, grinning at him with that contagious smile of hers.

"Happy birthday, Matt! Did you seriously forget today was your birthday?"

Oh.

Oh, yeah. He recalled that talk. The one they had the day before. Where theydiscussed his eighth birthday once again, and how it happened to be close to his actual one. How could he forget?

"Right, right. No- no, I didn't forget, I just kinda assumed since we talked about it yesterday you like, wouldn't need to tell me today…" the pitying raised brow made him stop talking.

"Of course I was gonna wish you happy birthday, silly. I'm not heartless." and now he got her offended. A certified yippie move on his behalf, that was for sure.

I wouldn't call that heartless. But, well, we're from different backgrounds. You'd be surprised by how many people just… Hmm.

"I uh… thank you. Sorry, I didn't mean to sound ungrateful, it was just um… ah, whatever. Thank you. Just warn me next time you decide to give me a smooch, kay?" only now did his face start turning red. Goddammit. She hummed in thought then gave a firm shake of the head.

"Nah, I think I'll keep stealing kisses without warning you. You're just so cute when you're flustered, I can't give it up now that I've seen the kinds of faces you make. This is gonna be my new hobby from now on." he wished he could be mad about it, but the fun she was having denied him of that though. It was lovely to see Charlie smile, and no reasonable person would be able to hold any ill will towards her, Matthew included.

"You guys planned this, didn't you?" he asked, looking over at Mari who had hidden behind the sofa's backrest.

"Maybe. So what if we did? What are you gonna do about it?" the girl crossed her arms smugly, inviting him to try to take that camera from their striped friend.

"I'mma get that picture when you least expect it. You can't keep it to yourself forever." the Puppet might, but he was damned if he was going to let such an incriminating piece of evidence be in the hands of those that would seek to manipulate him.

"Not if you can't find it. That's gonna stay with Mari and me. When we need you to do something for us it's gonna be the best bargaining tool." truly a devil in disguise she was.

"You're outright diabolical, you know that? To use that as blackmail against me, your brother. I'm wounded, Charlie, I am... But you do know it could also be used to blackmail you, right?"

"I'm not the one getting kissed, Matt. Who'd care for me when you're making the funny face?" a fair point, but just because he was the target of the image didn't mean she wouldn't be teased for it as well. He was willing to be made fun of if she would get the same treatment.

"Well, if that's how we're gonna play, then wait until I start carrying a camera with me everywhere and photographing every little embarrassing thing ya do. Ho, you've no idea what's in store for you, my dear miss Emily. You really shouldn't have poked the beast." she laughed some more, and he couldn't get enough of hearing her voice. She was happy, and full of life, and so loving his soul melted each time she flashed him that gleaming smile, spoke to him or rested her head on his shoulder on their way to school. Charlotte Emily was a precious, one-of-a-kind type of girl, one that had to be protected at all costs. An angel that he wouldn't allow to be taken from the world.

And if he had to be soft, cringy and play the goof to make her happy, then so be it. He'd give anything to preserve that smile. There was nothing he loved more than seeing her lips tug upwards because of him. At a bad joke, a sarcastic remark, a moment of mutual tranquility and affection. She was brilliant. A brilliant person and a brilliant friend. And he wouldn't have her any other way.

"Heh, you're on, Matt! No way I'm letting you get pictures of me!" Mari played a bating tune from on top the sofa. It seemed to have allied itself with Charlie, though that hardly discouraged him. If anything, they'd have more fun with the Puppet joining in.

All of that being said, he would get that picture.

When his head almost hit the desk, the boy startled awake. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, though that'd work for at most a couple of minutes before the drowsiness returned. He'd been stuck in that chair for eternity now, writing or not listening to what the teacher was saying. Looking at the classroom's walls and windows had gotten boring pretty quickly, and that constant, condescending voice was giving him a headache. His drool had dropped onto his notebook at one point and thank God no one had seen it. Writing basic calculations was simple- he could do it with his eyes closed- but doing it over and over and the pen was bound to slip from his hand. He looked at the clock above the blackboard, praying the class would end soon… Two more minutes and it'd be over. Hallelujah.

He ignored the paper balls that kept hitting him or landing on his desk. Curse Fritz and his typical bully attitude. Sitting in the back of the class where usually only the clowns sat. Jackass.

Matthew's seat was in the middle of the left row, right next to the windows. It was a good position to be in. Generally, teachers would focus on the smart kids who mostly sat in front or the retards that whispered to themselves in the back of the class. The mediocre in the middle, like himself, could pass up and rarely be asked to respond so long as they weren't spotted messing around, though it did depend on each teacher's preferences. Plus, he was near the radiator, and given how winter was right around the corner it was great to have a constant source of heat for when it got cold.

The boy sighed.

And to think that this hell was only second grade. The pain was just getting started, and with no phone to peak at while the teacher wasn't looking, boredom was the cruelest of tortures. He was thinking if spending the break with his head on his arms, catching up on some sleep until either a colleague or Charlie woke him up. Yeah, that's how awesome she was. Always looking out for him, ensuring he wouldn't get into trouble, even for sleeping during class.

While he craved to be able to hold a smartphone again, he was also grateful that they didn't exist yet because none of his classmates could take pictures of him while he was napping. Matt enjoyed the certain liberties he could take in this past age that he couldn't in his present. Though he still missed the device. He could personally confirm that those studies that said phones were like another organ/part of the body were very accurate.

His eyes were beginning to close again. That was shorter than before.

And then, as he thought about snoozing, it hit him. That urge- the one that would get him in trouble, that would attract the attention of everyone in class. He tried; he really did try to squash it. To fight that primal urge to make the dreaded sound- but that feeling- the way his muscles had seemingly been taken over by an unknown force- it overpowered his tired self. His mouth opened as wide as it could, and he let out the loudest yawn possible.

In an instant, everybody's eyes were on him. Some classmates were snickering, others paled as they knew what "awaited" him. Well, they had reason to be afraid. Him, not so much. Miss Lawrence had stopped talking and was looking straight at him, clearly annoyed at having been interrupted, even thought it was the end of class.

"Matthew, if this is so boring to you, could you please tell us the solution to this equation?" he looked where the woman was pointing. Damn, fourteen plus three minus nine plus five. The stuff of horror stories really.

"It's" he yawned a second time "-thirteen, ma'am." the woman hmphed, probably going to say how he should have covered his mouth before the bell cut her off. He heard Charlie laugh on the seat to his right, earning a smirk out of him.

"Settle down, everyone. How many times do I have to tell you that the bell doesn't dismiss you, I do-..." ah, these types of people were the breed he liked to describe as communist teachers. They didn't have anything to do with the old USS of R per se, but the way in which they taught students was so outdated only that term fit them. So, communist teachers. Usually, people with backwards ways of thinking that were in their late forties to early fifties/sixties and really should've retired a long time ago. They were those professors that berated students for not solving a problem with the given method on a test, or being against certain articles of clothing because they exposed too much skin even when the school didn't have a clear dress code.

Who let these guys in the system? Wait, actually, the system is so broken it'd let anyone in. No one is really dying to become a teacher so those that want to have that as their profession are welcomed in with open arms.

One shouldn't get him wrong; he didn't dislike every teacher out there. He'd had plenty of cool teachers in elementary and middle school who were laid back, understanding but not stupid, and could engage with the class in fun ways. They'd earned his respect. For those people he'd always make the effort to learn for their subjects, but most of the teachers he'd encountered fell under the first category. No one forced anyone to pursue a specific profession. If you wanted to help kids learn and stuff, then it'd be expected of you to make sure you knew how to do that so what you taught would stick with kids and they'd want to learn for your subject. But no, most became educators for reasons unknown to the common man only to become depressed, unfulfilled and to earn small salaries by modern standards, provided they taught in public schools that was. But the pay was especially worse for those that taught during the 80s where Matt now resided, with only like, less than twenty k per year. Yeah, he often wondered how anyone made a living out of this profession.

But he was thinking too hard on this. He'd spent a majority of his youth coming up with arguments on why the educational system was ineffective to convince his folks to let him drop out when the time came so he could do what he liked, which uh… he hadn't actually found what that was. It was a work in progress. The sad thing was that if he thought he'd have a bad time convincing his folks it'd be impossible to talk Henry into it. The man was very insistent and pro about learning and school and GPA and all the useless garbage that didn't actually prepare children for adult lives.

Not even his birthday had spared him from going to school today, which, well, was fair, but still. He wouldn't have luck with the man. Although, before he could really lose himself a second time in the politics of education, a slap on his nape made him jump.

"Ugh, you bored, Fritz? Go annoy someone else."

"You bet I'm bored, Emily. Listen, you gotta tell me, dude. How'd you get Cassidy to like you?"

First Carton, now this?! I'm not a couple's counselor- what the fuck?! The thing that made Matthew's skin crawl about Fritz was that the boy never acted intentionally mean towards him, he was the "just a prank, bro" guy who wanted to have fun but was too out there to realize his jokes were only funny to him. And now that same kid wanted his advice? On dating the menace that was Cassidy? Hell no!

"You… wait… you like her? Like like her? But weren't you scared of her when she tripped you? Why'd you change your mind?"

"Dude, I always liked her, it's just… I could never muster up the courage to speak to her, you know. She's like, so badass she could be my soulmate, man. I think she is, actually." no, nope, nu-uh. They were getting into some creepy territory here. "But `cause I was also super terrified of her I acted like everyone did around her. But man, when she tripped me and I saw it was her, I wasn't even mad she broke my nose. That was like, the bestest thing to happen to me all week! And, you know, I think we like, made a connection in that moment, me and her. I could just feel we clicked. I'd be down for her to mess me up like that again, dude." dear God, what was his life becoming? "I mean, we're into sports, right? I like football, she likes football." she liked soccer actually, or had a weird talent for it. "We're both popular, we're tough as nails, no one messes with us." no one messed with him because he was an idiot. "So, I've been trying to uh, get her to notice me, you know, but all she does is give me these death glares. I- I don't know what I'm doing wrong, so I figured since she always seems to hang around you for I don't know what reason, you could help me? And in return I could maybe, get you into the sports team? Even a skinny guy like you could get accepted if I talked to the coach."

I'd wreck your whole football team if I had my old body by myself. And I never even played American football.

"I'm not playing sports again."

"You did before? Who would've thought? Huh, the more you know, I guess. But anyway, I was thinking you could hook me up. I'd be uh, eternally grateful if you helped me with this, or just put in a good word for me, I could figure it out on my own after that, all you have to do would be"

"-Okay, okay, okay, stop it. I've heard enough." Matt brought his hands together, inhaling. "First of all, you're a masochist who misunderstood that situation, second of all, why would you even assume I'd help you with this? We're not friends. You're what I hate most about this school."

"Don't lie to yourself, Emily. We're totally cool. It's not my fault you don't laugh when I joke with you. You don't know how to have fun, but that doesn't mean we're not buddies."

Matt sat there for a moment, contemplating in bewildered silence. He was trying so incredibly hard to find the nicest words to explain to the blond why he was wrong.

"Fritz, we're- we're not buddies. You" he pointed at the boy. "-think you are buddies with me. I'm" he placed a palm over his heart. "-certain I'm not buddies with you… Alright? You get it?" the other boy rolled his eyes. Then, a genius idea popped into Matthew's head.

"Whatever, man. What's a guy gotta do to help him out? I thought you were cool, Emily, but you're no"

"-Having said that, I'm not opposed to giving you a hand." Fritz immediately lightened up at his words. "On one condition."

"Shoot."

"You leave me alone. You don't joke with me, you don't throw paper balls at me, you don't steal my stuff, and, you know what, you can even stop talking to me entire"

"-That's it? Alright, man, I got it. Anything for getting me with her. See, I told you we were best buds." ouch, for him, Matthew meant. That was pretty sad. He almost felt sorry for the blond. On some level, he sympathized with him. He too had been a loner, but never, never that desperate. Ever.

Shit, if this works, Fritz stops talking to me and gets beaten within an inch of his life when this blows up in his face, and if he decides to take his rejection anger on me afterwards, he'll know why it'd be a bad idea. The boy snorted. Meanwhile I get to be a free student. I mean, the guy who's been harassing you for a month offers to do anything for you if you lend him a hand- who could say no to that? Now I'm getting excited to see the show. Eheh, you've dug your own grave, buddy.

While the two of them had been talking, they'd failed to notice that a certain hot-tempered girl had entered their classroom and had made her way behind them.

"Want to repeat that?" both boys jumped at her voice. Matthew blessed the skies that she had come to his rescue while Fritz was searching for his tongue.

"O- Oh uh, Cassie" the sound of something snapping was heard at the nickname. The blond visibly flinched. "-uh, sorry, I meant Cassidy- um, w- wh- what- what are you doing here- e? I didn't expect you'd"

"-Scram."

"R- Right, I'm- m off. See- See y- you around." he hurried outside. Matthew puffed his cheeks as he watched the exchange, holding in amusement for a few more seconds before bursting out laughing. How she'd sent him running a second time would forever not be hilarious.

"Your timing was phenomenal." she dropped the broken pencil that she most likely would've used to stab the blond boy and sniggered.

"What the heck did you agree to?"

"Just that he won't pull any more atomic wedgies on me if I give him some advice."

"On what, exactly? What girl is he stalking?" Matthew questioned how she could be so stubborn where she wouldn't catch onto Fritz liking her, if he had been attempting to get her to like him.

"It'd ruin your day if you knew, and as much as I detest Fritz, I couldn't do that to him, so I can't tell ya. But uh… forget it. Just don't judge him too hard. He's um, he's one of those special kinds of guys." Cassidy nodded unconvinced.

"Oh, I know how special he is… Hey, are you free to talk for a sec?"

"Sure- I mean, I was planning to take a nap but that went out the window with Fritz, so, what's up?" his question lingered on in the air as she appraised… what it was she'd say.

The girl shifted on her feet, holding her arms behind her back. Something must really be eating her if she was this insecure. She let out a sigh, pumping herself up for what he got the feeling was meant to be a confession.

"Okay, first I gotta ask; how've your nightmares been lately?"

Alrighty, off to a strong start.

"Not as bad, surprisingly enough. I'm having a better time sleeping. Why do you ask?" she looked around the room to see if anyone was in the class besides them.

"Well… I've been having these really weird dreams. They're um… you're in almost all of them. And honestly, it's been freaking me out. They started after the first day of school and just went on and on. I thought they were, you know, strange dreams that you happened to be in, but they're so strange. There's always this older version of you that's dressed like no one I've seen and looks uncanny. Like, there's something about the way you smile at me in those dreams that's… terrifying. And you act super weird too. In one dream you were carrying bodies in this uh, empty misty landscape, then in another one you were peeking out from behind a tree on a hill with a bunch of graves. You also always wave at me and never stop staring. You just… follow me wherever I go once you spot me. You don't say anything when I talk to you, you don't react to whatever else is going on in those dreams, you only stare and smile."

"…So… what? You think these are- I don't understand, what are you saying?" she bit her lip, looking down.

"You know how in your dreams there's always some kind of animal there with you? In my dreams you're there. All the time. It's got me thinking. I don't believe in supernatural crap but… I can't shake the feeling that these things are connected somehow. I don't know how, or why the hell it's happening, but I'm betting what's causing your nightmares is connected to what's causing mine."

Hmm. Well, this is Monday, isn't it? I mean, Evan sees shadow creatures that are luring him on the open road to get himself killed, on my first day of school during a meltdown I hear demonic voices in my head that I deliberately decided to forget about because I didn't and don't know how the heck I should to handle them, and now Cassidy is seeing fucking Creepy Matt in her dreams.

That's normal. Yup. Stuff that's supposed to be happening. Just another Monday, am I right?...

What the hell is going on!? This is exactly what I was fearing- extraordinary stuff happening that I've no way of combating!

"Are you feeling alright? You're sweating."

"No, uh, no- we're ah, we're in bad trouble." Matthew couldn't BS his way out of this one. Cassidy had come to confide in him about her dreams and he couldn't simply turn her away. But what should he tell her? She believed these things were connected, and so did he, but just how much should he reveal to her when he had no clue what was up?

At least he knew this wasn't the worst time for things to be going sideways, but that didn't make it any better.

o0o

She liked to think that she was good at noticing patterns. Or, she was good at spotting things out of the ordinary. One or the other. Among her siblings, she had the best intuition when it came to their parents, as well as other people. Her brothers not so much. When either her father or mother were in a bad mood, she would refrain from antagonizing her siblings so she wouldn't have to suffer through her parents' scolding that would regularly devolve into arguing with each other because neither could agree on who was to blame for what. But that was a usual thing. She couldn't remember a time when her daddy and mommy didn't use to shout.

Ev would more often than not be the cause of said arguments, because something that made him cry would disappoint father and then mother would take her baby brother's side. Michael, when not keeping quiet out of shame, would say anything that crossed his mind, no matter how stupid it was. He had really peculiar stances on a lot of things, but daddy always said how wrong they were, and that Mikey was dumb for saying them- well, he didn't actually ever say it like that, but she understood what her father implied- and daddy was always right. She had to agree with him that her older brother's head was a bag full of cats. Nothing he said made sense, except for when he blamed Ev for doing things like shattering a vase or dropping a plate, but she never backed him up on those claims, partially to spite him, which led to mommy becoming mad at Mikey for lying.

Her resentment for her baby brother came from the fact that he made the whole house worry over nothing, while her loathing of Michael resulted from him stealing all of the attention from their father. Her dad showered her in praises, let her do what he wanted, bought her the most expensive gifts- and all of that was great, but he never talked about her to other people. It was always Michael. "You should see what my eldest got himself into at school." or "I don't know where I made the mistake with him." or "I expect one day he'll come home and say we are going to be grandparents because he wasn't careful enough". Whatever she did wasn't ever enough to stand out in the eyes of her father so she too could be spoken off to other adults. Daddy didn't miss a chance to speak to people about how Mikey was the black sheep, or hinting at how he regretted having the boy. Who cared if what he said but her brother in a bad light? Any attention from their father should've been valued above all else. He spent his breath talking about Mike, and what did her brother do? Go and embarrass himself further. She on the other hand would've…

She was so sick of her older sibling.

He was at the center of each fight, he didn't appreciate anything, he had turned Evan into a wimp and he should've ki-…

Stop it. Daddy wouldn't want you to think like that. You can't disappoint him. You can't be like your brother.

Although, a strange thing her father did when Mike was a dummy that she couldn't yet grasp, was the fact that he disliked Michael making a fool of himself but then proceeded to tell all who'd listen how his son was the worst when Mike wasn't there to overhear. Her father made these contradictions more than she'd expect of him, but really, she couldn't think less of him for that. Daddy was bound to be so stressed so as to make those tiny mistakes when he had to deal with her older sibling every day.

This was why she loved Snuggles. He didn't upset anyone, he didn't start fights, and he didn't steal the spotlight. He was there to love you and to be loved. It was the perfect friend; cute, cuddly, had infinite energy to play with Elizabeth until her side hurt from all the running and could make a rainy day a happier one. Her pet rabbit even made her dad and mom smile every now and again. It also knew how people around it where feeling, much like herself.

She picked up the bunny, fawning at how the animal attempted to climb her shoes, hugging it to her chest.

Elizabeth knew Michael had found a new respect for their dad, probably after having been tasked with looking after for Evan. She didn't know what he'd been told that finally got him to comply, but he hadn't been as much of a jerk. With the exception of that one day when mom had also been irked, though Liz had only gotten home around evening since she'd spent her afternoon at Susie's, so she hadn't seen what had happened. Mike had been pretty sad then.

Ev, she knew, had gotten even more jumpy and scared of his own shadow. But at least he avoided her. Still, it went to show how Mike wasn't doing that good of a job. She wouldn't tell on him just yet though. Her father hadn't said she should, so she wouldn't until instructed otherwise. She wouldn't want to displease him by defying his wishes, spoken or not.

Her mother had begun avoiding father. She went out of her way to leave the room he was in as soon as her presence wasn't needed, and she didn't look the man in the eye at the dinner table or when the two talked. It was as if the woman was purposefully putting more distance between herself and father while trying to interact more with all of her kids. It bugged Elizabeth a little. She loved her mom, but she didn't want more attention than she already got from her, which was a ton. Those weren't all the things that had changed however.

Mike liked to chew gum when he thought no one was looking, a habit he'd picked up from his friends- he actually had friends- this summer, Evan hid a flashlight under his pillow- it seemed his fear of the dark had forced him to resort to those toddler methods of falling asleep, her mother had developed this nervous tick of running her fingers through her beautiful hair, and her dad's eyes would twitch when he became angry. Little things she'd picked up on, among others. She had fun trying to spot these new details about her family while pretending she was blind to them. She'd gone as far as to practice on her classmates to better read and please her parents.

It was how she knew Matthew sometimes had a tendency of checking his pockets for stuff that wasn't there. When asked, he'd say that he had a feeling he'd lost a very important object, although he wouldn't say what it was. Or the fact that Carlton ogled Charlie. Most where harmless quirks, but she had plenty of knowledge about people's secrets they wouldn't want her, or any person for that matter, to be aware of. Teeny tiny little secrets that would maybe ruin their reputations… and lives. In the most extreme of cases. Kind of…

Not so much. But like her dad said; that kind of knowledge was best kept to oneself to be used at an opportune time.

Like how Evan was talking to his friend in his room at the moment. Again. After being told he was imagining it.

The girl put an ear to the door, heedful not to make the floorboards scrape. She pat Snuggles for the duration of the conversation. This time, her brother was not the only one doing the talking, as it seemed that what he was saying was being responded to if she analyzed his replies. Usually, he'd only say things as if he were rambling on about how his day went to an unresponsive plushie.

Now, he was being answered.

o0o

Today had been good, omitting what he'd learned at school. They hadn't done any special activity, as he'd asked, but they'd watched a few movies together, shared some laughs, enjoyed Henry's cooking, and overall, had a nice time without flashy stuff, which was precisely what he'd wanted for his "birthday". He'd been wise to warn them multiple days beforehand that he didn't want them to hold his birthday, so they wouldn't have to spend money and energy setting it up. All he'd wanted was for them to have a normal day. Course, he hadn't managed to talk Henry out of baking him a cake- which had been delicious- but he appreciated that they stuck to his selfish desires despite how uncomfortable it might've made them. Matthew had turned their lives upside down in the past nine months, but they'd been incredibly accommodating, offering him plenty of time to adjust. Neither Charlie nor her father had ever complained about the big change that was living with someone unrelated to them, and they had seemingly adapted as if he'd always been part of their family. In truth, it made him happier than words could express to have that kind of support, which was why he had refused to have his birthday celebrated.

Due to his presence, Henry had had to spend a boatload of money, not only to buy him all of the things he needed, but also to get him adopted. Because of those reasons, plus enrolling Matt into school, he and his daughter hadn't been able to go anywhere this summer, forced to stay home so Henry could take care of everything, on top of making Fredbear's. Matthew couldn't really do much to show his gratitude besides behaving and offering thanks that would fall on deaf ears, so he'd opted to at least make it easier for the man in the financial department. He had no real need for presents or whatever. Henry's money could go to making his daughter happy. She deserved it more than he did.

He'd told the both of them that he wouldn't have any problems celebrating his birthday next year when the diner would be open, as doing so this soon just felt bad. And he hadn't been lying, for the most part. What he didn't say however, was that the main reason for having this be a regular day was so he wouldn't celebrate the same month he'd lost his family. It was too soon for that. He'd only been taken a week or so before his actual birthday and being excited or happy about it just… It sickened him. He shouldn't get to be happy not even a year since the last time he'd seen his parents.

God, how he missed them. He hadn't moved on, he'd never be able to, but their faces had already started to blend. Matthew was beginning to forget the more minute details like the shapes of their faces. He couldn't remember how his mother's hair flowed, or how his father sounded, frequently messing up the man's voice. It scared him that one day he might forget completely what they looked like. It felt as though he'd insult them by letting their memory die, as if he was admitting they no longer mattered. And so, he struggled to recall as much as he could about them, no matter how hard it might've weighed on him. He didn't care. Matthew refused to let them fade away into oblivion, even if he wouldn't see them again.

He'd been an only child, and both of his parents were well into their mid-forties. They wouldn't be making another kid, and he honestly couldn't imagine they would have even if they could. Neither moved on easily, and well, he wasn't sure he wanted them to move on.

That just sounded so awful though, but he...

He didn't want to be forgotten by the world as some missing boy.

Was he a bad person for not wishing the best for them? He supposed he was, but he'd learned to accept that as part of himself long ago. Someone that took too many things for granted and was generally undeserving of kindness for always having repulsive thoughts like those. It could've been karma that brought him here in the first place as punishment for being the little prick that he was.

He could see that happening, if he was being honest. But what made this punishment worse was the fact that he'd been left with the memories of his previous world, fact that made him continuously question what became of the people he once knew. Was his family alright? Were they living with the hope that someday he would be found? Did anyone besides those closest to him miss him, or care at all that he was gone? Had he been able to make an impression on those people that would stick with them?

He hoped he did, but considering how much of a shut-in he'd been, yeah, no…

He hated the part of him that wished he had no recollection of who he'd been prior to ending up here.

Matthew found himself comparing his dejected pondering to that of Afton's victims. This must've been how they felt after they possessed the suits, the small bunch that were conscious anyway, as most had turned into raging, confused and scared animals that lashed out at anything that resembled their killer, Charlie, Elizabeth, Cassidy and maybe Evan being the exceptions. Wondering if they've left an impact on the world, when in reality most people had probably felt a little sorry for them and their families before going about their own lives, indifferent to the tragedies.

How devastated his mom and dad must've been. The horrors that probably had and were going through their minds. Asking themselves what had happened to him, if he had, say, ran away on purpose, thinking what they could've done better or that if they had been more careful this wouldn't have happened at all. Even… losing the will to live entirely… Matt preferred not to think of what ifs, but he felt as though he was betraying them if he didn't.

And there he went, ruining his own disposition. Again. Spoiling the end of the day so he could help his nightmares give him an even harder time. Again… Just like he always did. Anyone that knew him would comment about how self-destructive he was, and they'd be right. Matthew ruined things for himself, no one else did. Matthew couldn't be bothered to do things like a normal person and now he'd faded away from people's minds, and Matthew was most likely the reason he'd been taken here.

Probably pissed off some ROB or something. As one did.

The boy sighed, staring at still powered the bed lamp. He only lived to help the kids and handle Afton. After that, if he lived- now that was a funny thought- he didn't know what he'd do. What this epoch had to offer wasn't for him, and he'd be too old by the time things turned to how he knew them. Matthew had no future after William was disposed of, not here, not now. Whatever interests he had to begin with like tech, digital art, games were just starting to establish themselves, and for things like comics he'd know the plot of all the characters he liked. He'd be in his body's fifties by 2022, if he didn't die of black heart.

He'd watch the people around him make something of their lives while he withered away.

He could perhaps make a living out of, maybe, predicting events, or investing in, like, stock of successful companies, but someone had to explain it to him how to do that. He wasn't planning on working at the local Wendy's. Or Freddy's.

It was the same problem he'd faced back home. All around him he saw his peers having their entire lives planned out from early ages; where they'd go to college, what they'd do, some kids even had business ideas as soon as seventh grade. And he, well, he wasted his days in his room, having no clue what he'd do after high school, or to what high school he'd go to. He had hobbies, but they were pretty generic, and none really spoke to him on a level where he'd consider any of them his calling that he could follow and make money out of. He wasn't a passionate person. There were things he liked doing, but none that captivated him enough to practice them every day, so he…

He just floated there… in this void of thinking, procrastinating and not doing anything productive.

It was ridiculous that a fifteen-year-old was fretting over how he would live at such a young age, but losing all you had put things into perspective. It made one question their place in the world and… if it was worth it to keep going. Sure, he had people that cared for him, but he'd leave them as well due to actions outside of his control. Matthew didn't see an outcome where he'd make it. For him it all ended with an early grave, body mangled beyond recognition in the best of circumstances. He'd make the time he had count though, so that at least other, more important lives than his could go on. He'd meant what he'd said to Mari that day… the only life that would be traded would be his own. No one was spending decades rotting away in metal shells, or being blinded by vengeance.

At the end of the day, that's all anyone could really do. Make the best out of the time they had. Help people who needed help, those that knew it and those that didn't. He understood half of that now, and perhaps… that was what he was meant to do.

Matthew made to shut off the lamp when he was interrupted by three light knocks on his door. The lack of voice indicated it was Mari, who was a little late for the first time since they'd started sharing a room. It had a pretty strict schedule with its charging that it would never miss, so it was unusual for it to be late. Come to think of it, since school had begun, he hadn't actually seen the Puppet charge itself at night. It would stand by his bed and seep in near him once he'd fallen asleep and then never move from the spot, keeping him company till morning. He knew that because the Puppet would always be next to him whenever he'd wake up during the night from a nightmare, the need to go to the bathroom or to drink some water.

Mari opened the door, waved, then entered his room holding… his jacket, gloves and beanie? He couldn't help but stare quizzically at his lithe friend.

"Hey, uh, we going somewhere? What are those for?" the Puppet nodded, offering him its hand. The boy took it, allowing the animatronic to pull him out of bed. Ruffling his hair, it held the jacket for him to put on, to which he complied warily. It then knelt down to put the beanie on his head before handing him the gloves. He took the liberty to also get some socks given how Mari wished to take him seemingly outside, and doing so barefoot at night would've sucked. The Puppet chimed in delight once he was dressed. Without warning, it picked him up bridal style.

"Whoa, wait, hold on, what are you doing?" the only response he got was a finger on his lips. Mari pointed at the wall that connected Henry's room to his. "Oookay. So, you want me to be quiet, right? That still doesn't tell me what we're doing." The Puppet trilled for a moment. He'd come to know the sound it produced as chuckling/laughter. Its smile became thinner, more real. It looked so weird, even now, seeing what was supposed to be solid material morph in such a way. Not having the patience to elaborate, the Puppet carried him outside of his room, closing the door behind them, then down the stairs, somehow not making any sound even though their combined weights should've made the floor creak several times. Once it got to the living room, it made its way to the backdoor, through which they left the house into the garden.

The cold air hit his face the moment they stepped outside. It wasn't quite freezing, but he would've definitely complained had he not been wearing clothes and just his pjs. The stars in the sky were not so clear from down there. Most flickered in and out or were too small to be noticed. Other than that, the sky was devoid of clouds. Mari's grip on him was firm, but gentle. He had no idea what it had planned. Perhaps there was something it wanted to show him, but then what could it be that'd require his attention so bad at ten PM. It must've been urgent if Mari couldn't wait until morning to show him.

The Puppet sneaked a look at him, its optics glowing a little brighter before it cast its gaze towards the ground.

A few seconds of silence passed in which he studied where his friend was looking, at its striped feet, before something incredible happened. Matthew's eyes widened when he caught glimpse of the pointed ends of Mari's legs parting with the ground, gaining space from the grass. The sight startled him so, that he quickly wrapped his arms around the Puppet's neck, suddenly afraid of being dropped.

"Oh my God! Yo- like, what, y- y- you're actually like- holly crap, this is-…" the Puppet did not stop, instead, it kept ascending. In less than five seconds they rose above the house, prompting the boy to freak out further, then by the 30 second mark he could see the outskirts of town, and where the other one began. He didn't think he'd ever squeezed anything as hard as he was squeezing Mari right now, as if the Puppet would decide to let go of him at any moment. In response to his understandable fear, it played a soothing tune, its own way of letting him know he was safe. Its body also appeared to have gotten warmer? The cold of the night air did not upset him in the slightest.

But even with all of that, he had yet to calm down.

"Okay, um, uh, so you can fly, like for real, w- we're- you're flying, Mari! You're- this isn't a dream, like, i- it's amazing, I mean, when did this happen- how- how are you doing this?!" the Puppet chimed, shaking its head. Butterflies were flowing through his stomach, and he dared not look straight down, but he took the chance to observe the lights below that traced a map of Hurricane, as well as those in the distance, gasping at the fact that he could see as far out as Zion National Park. The rocky terrain of Utah blended together under the moonlight in a painting of greys, oranges and whites, somehow visible even in the darkness of night. He saw the snow-covered mountain line that overlooked Hurricane, the river that separated it from the neighboring town, the Veterans Memorial Highway, the massive city of St. George. He could see everything. He giggled at the beauty of it, part from nervousness and part from amazement. An action so innocent and childish and unlike him, a fuzzy feeling spread through the Puppet's chest at its sound. Had it possessed a heart, it was sure it would've melted.

Matthew didn't think to question how this was possible anymore. He didn't need an explanation.

By now they had gone as high as 1600 meters, give or take. He could tell because he'd visited Burj Khalifa, and they seemed to be at a height double that of the world's tallest building. The height itself did not make him dizzy, rather it made him scared of the open space. It instilled in him a fear of being out in the open with nothing to hold on to. Thankfully, he could hold on to his friend, who didn't mind the pressure the boy applied on its thin neck, so the fear was remedied by some amount, otherwise he'd be sweating bullets and screaming. He stopped his muttering, swallowing before choosing to remain quiet for the rest of the "trip" all the while the Puppet kept stealing glances at him, its expression becoming merrier by the minute.

After a couple of them Mari ended its ascent, tilting its head upwards with a jingle, telling its boy that they had reached the point where he could see.

Matthew looked up, and his mouth dropped. The sight above him was dreamlike.

Countless starts shined across the clear sky, giving it a blue tinge. They no longer flickered in and out, instead remaining present, burning like candles from billions of lightyears away. The full moon sat on top of them all, glistering with a grandiose that simply could not be described. It could not be put into words what he was seeing. A simplicity that was so complex it left him wondering how come man could spend his entire life ignoring the gorgeousness that always watched from above. How anyone could be so oblivious to the miracle that was nature. It was marvelous. It was fantastical. It was majestic. It was all of those things and so much more. It wouldn't have been wrong to say that what he was witnessing was a shade of heaven. No other comparison fit.

His eyes stung from not blinking, but he couldn't spit in the face of such perfection by cutting of his view of it for even a second.

"Wow…" he said, although it came out shushed due to his astonished expression. Freezing tears were streaming down his face, but he still smiled. He smiled at the love he'd been shown, at the unearned compassion he'd received, at the idea that anyone- his friend, the Puppet- would want to share this with him. This gift he'd done nothing for. There wasn't anything he could say or do that'd be enough of a thank you for this.

For a brief moment, all the regret he held in his soul vanished, and he was no longer bothered by the fact that he'd been taken away. For that brief, fleeting second, it had been worth it, and he couldn't be happier. This was home. He'd found his home here, and there was a reason for him to live. To struggle beyond the fight he'd been brought to win. An assurance- a promise- that there would be a tomorrow. Not just for the tiny breaths of life he swore to save, but for him too.

There was hope. Of a future where he'd find his answers. A light shined in the darkness for him as well. A…

His own… happiest day.

Nothing else mattered in that moment. It was just him, his Mari, and the whole world. It was wondrous.

The Puppet leaned its head against his, singing a serene melody from its music box. And then, a voice, a mix between a male echo and a female whisper, spoke to him, clear as day. He shuddered at the sound, and turned to look into those caring, emerald eyes he knew so well.

"Happy birthday, Matthew."


Yoohoo! We've passed the 100k mark! Man, I didn't think I'd get here in just a couple of months. Let me take a moment to thank all of you from the bottom of my heart who have left reviews, favorited/followed this story, or simply took the time out of their day to read it! It feels me with so much joy to know that people gave this fic of mine a chance and have stuck around thus far. So, thank you again! You guys are amazing!
I also want to wish you all an early Merry Christmas, since the next chapter won't come out until after the holidays have passed. I wish you guys to have a splendid time with your friends and families! Thank you again for reading, and I'll see you next time👋!

Reviews are always welcomed btw!

Chapter title from "SAVE THEM" by Fiction Music.