"Carlton, you know I appreciate the help, but I'm not too old to wash dishes myself.

Carlton Burke straightened from the sink as his aunt Cynthia leaned up against the countertop beside it. Her smile was one of concern and trepidation towards her nephew's behavior. Carlton looked from her and then back towards the dirty plates he was holding from their supper with a shrug.

"I might as well learn how to do something useful, plus I should pull my weight now that I live here." Cynthia reached out and gently pulled the plates from Carlton's fingers, then leaned over and kissed the top of his head.

"I never made you do chores when you visited before and that hasn't changed even now." Carlton made no effort to prevent a smile as she ruffled his hair.

"Besides I have a dishwasher for a reason." She took the plates and began to set them inside said dishwasher as Carlton watched on, though with a small amount of guilt.

After his graduation from high school, his mother had suggested the idea of staying with her sister for a while to "get away from it all." What she'd actually meant was to get Carlton away from the nearly constant toxicity he was facing back in Hurricane.

Officer Dunn had been closer to a lot more people than anyone had really known. His death had sent about creating almost as many shockwaves as the original Fazbear murders back in 85. Carlton's father, Clay, had tried to keep the knowledge of his and his friend's involvement out, but it had managed to get out anyway.

It was an almost instantaneous effect, as overnight everyone, including a few of the teachers, started treating Carlton with hostility. No one knew exactly what happened, and few truly believed the cover story Clay had come up with. Everyone seemed to share the idea that Carlton had pulled a prank that had gone too far and killed an innocent man. The only ones who hadn't believed it at some point or another were those that were with him that night and his family. But his friends could only do so much when they were scattered about, and Charlie could barely show her face around Hurricane due to it happening in her dad's restaurant. She at least lived elsewhere so she never had to stay in Hurricane for very long. B
"Hey Carlton," Cynthia paused after putting away the last dish, "A friend of mine recommended a good therapist to speak too." Carlton froze and looked down at his feet nervously. Therapy was something almost everyone from Freddy's had gotten except for him.
After everyone in Hurricane had started to despise him for the perceived involvement in Dunns's death he felt he couldn't trust anyone in the town. Let alone some stranger he was meant to repeat a lie to again and again for everyone else's sake. The truth was crazy, and would no doubt land them all in deeper trouble then what they already were in.

How Charlie had done it was beyond him. But he put on a reassuring look and gave the same reply he'd given to everyone else who brought up therapy.

"I'll think about it Aunt Cyn, but I think I'm going to turn in the night." Cynthia glanced towards the clock and noted it was only a little after seven, but gave her nephew a hug anyway.

"Alright, but if you have any trouble sleeping, you know where to find me okay?" Carlton returned the embrace and assured his aunt he'd be okay before departing for his room.

While it sounded like an excuse, he really was tired at that moment. It was becoming a regular thing for him lately, thankfully his room wasn't very far despite the size of his mother's childhood home. Much like his family's home in Hurricane it was rather well furnished but all of the furniture was old and was more of a display of wealth than a true comfort.

But unlike the rest of the house, Carlton's current room in the house was rather sparsely decorated by comparison because of his unwillingness to bring over much from Hurricane. Why would anyone want to remember a town that had started to shun them anyway? Most of what he'd brought was clothing and a few sentimental items from his past.

With barely a glance at his pajamas, Carlton laid down onto the bed and stretched out. Sleeping in the clothes he'd been wearing was always something he'd done whenever he felt too tired, or lazy to change out. But like his tiredness, it was becoming a more frequent habit

As he folded his arms behind his head, Carlton felt his eyelids begin to droop. Deciding not to fight it any longer, he let himself drift away and finally closed his eyes to sleep. But his eyelids hadn't been closed for a minute before he heard his name being softly called and they snapped open again. He raised his head upward and took a curious glance around the room.

"Aunt Cynthia?" He called out. At first, the only sound in the room was his own breathing, until he heard the call once more. This time it was closer, but it didn't sound anything like his aunt's voice. But as his eyes traveled around the room they fell on something that hadn't been there before.

Sitting in a corner across from his bed was a large yellow bear. Old and very withered, with bits of fur both matted and missing. It sat slumped backward as though there was no life within it, and yet there were two white pinpricks of light that stared out from within the otherwise empty sockets. Its jaw also hung very loosely as though it would fall off at any moment.

Despite the bear's sudden and startling appearance, Carlton was remarkably calm. He slid off his bed and went into a cross-legged sitting position on the floor, mere inches from the bear's own legs. There wasn't even a hint of fear as he smiled and addressed the bear.

"Hey Michael, been a bit since I last saw you," Carlton said and followed it up with a little laughter. After the incident, he'd begun seen the bear regularly, almost as though it had attached itself to him. Though he never let anyone, especially his parents onto that little fact.

"Sorry for just up and leaving Hurricane, probably why I didn't see you for a while, but I'm glad to see you made it here." Carlton looked in the direction of the living area and gestured towards it.

"Oh yeah, I'm living with Aunt Cynthia for a bit, the one who always got you extra art supplies whenever you came over?" The sound of childish giggling filled the room as Carlton grinned from ear to ear.

"So, anything new with you and the others?" The air around them both grew colder as the question was answered by the yellow bear. All the while, as he whispered and gave an answer Carlton's face began to become very grim with every sentence. But he was unable to reply, before the sound his aunt's voice reached his ears. Jolting him out of his and Micheal's conversation.

"Carlton?" He turned his head at the sound of his aunt's voice and went for the door. He looked back to Micheal and whispered,

"I'll be right back." Before opening his door to find his aunt just outside the room
"Yeah?"

"Jessica just called and wanted to see how you've been, I can tell her to call back later if you'd like." Carlton glanced back into the room but saw not even a hint of Micheal's presence. Like he'd never been there at all.

"I'm fine auntie, I think I can talk to her." He smiled and walked to the kitchen with his aunt. Leaving his room as empty and silent as it had been before.

Charlie blew away the strands of hair that fell over her face with an audible puff as she shoved her time card into the machine. While it worked to clock her out, she took the opportunity to completely move away from the other hairs from her face.

Time had flown past, and she was already working her third week at Saver Saviors. While grateful to have the work it would get a bit tiring after a full eight hours. That's why she was also grateful to be off the next couple of days.

Undoing the buttons on her vest, she made her way towards the front of the store. Although John wasn't going to arrive for a few more minutes, she wanted to be punctual in case he was early. At least, she was hoping he might be early.

She waved to Rebbeca and Millie who were attending the cash registers but didn't notice that Arty was three aisles away stocking up a few of the shelves When she saw her, Rebecca called out to Charlie when she saw her walking past.

"Don't enjoy yourself so much that you can't show up Tuesday." Charlie laughed and folded up her vest.

"Nah, I'm not really much of a party girl, I'm just going to spend the weekend with my boyfriend." A minor ruckus suddenly drew their attention as Arty fumbled with the box he was carrying. His eyes darkened and he looked away from the others, muttering about losing his grip on the box. Charlie tensed up when she realized he was close, but it subsided as he went back to work and ignored her for once.

"Well I hope you both have a good weekend then," Rebecca returned her attention to Charlie. "Be sure to get plenty of rest."

"Oh, I will because John will get on me if I don't." Charlie laughed and walked out of the front doors, saying her goodbyes to Millie and Rebecca who also returned to their work. Arty kept stocking shelves, though now it was in an aggravated state which caught Rebecca's attention.

"Something rubbing you the wrong way, kid?" Arty looked out of the giant front window and saw Charlie's blue honda pull up to the curb. Charlie enthusiastically went around the car and hopped into the passenger seat. Though he couldn't see inside, he knew that "John" had to be the driver. He silently watched it drive away and only when it was out of sight did he address Rebecca