"So instead of talking to him you just threw him around like a criminal!?"

Carlton winced before attempting to bury his head deeper into the couch pillow. He was beginning to long for the disappointed silence that he'd gotten from Clay on the ride home He had prepared for some yelling and scolding from his other family members but that sort of thing he was able to handle. After Dunn's death, it had happened almost daily if things got heated enough during school. But he hadn't been prepared at all for what happened when Clay marched him into the house.

Obviously neither his mother nor aunt had been happy, but surprisingly most of their anger wasn't directed at Carlton but towards Clay. Their anger further increasing that would only increase when they took a look at his rather battered state. While he hadn't seen them at first, he soon discovered that he was sporting multiple bruises from the little "scuffle," in Pirates Cove.

The sight of them had set off a three-way argument, or rather two ways as the two women ganged up on Clay. Cynthia, more than a little happy to ream Clay while snacking away his keys to unlock the cuffs. Clay had quickly decided that fighting Cynthia would be a losing battle, so he instead focused on appealing to his wife.

"He threw the first punch, what else do you think I'd do in that kind of situation?"

"Oh I don't know; maybe try talking to him instead of going all cowboy cop?" Betty called while walking over to the couch with an ice pack cradled in her hands. "He's your son, not some thug on the street trying to hold up a store." She pressed the ice pack against the more severe of the bruises and elicited a yelp from her son. The yelp earned him a sympathetically stern look before she spun around and the look became a harsh glare.

"I can't believe you did this to him and I think the worst part is that you knew something like this might happen. You knew he might go back to Freddy's yet you still pushed for him to come back."

"It's hardly my fault that Rick's taking his sweet time clearing out the mall." Clay commented gruffly.

"No, but you know what? He didn't need to come back for my birthday, especially if you knew Rick was taking longer." Betty fired back, storming over to Clay before jabbing her finger into his chest. "You thought it would be fine, is what you would be saying if Carlton got hurt in there beyond your little takedown? Even if Freddy's was cleared out that mall is a deathtrap!" Clay backed nervously away before raising his hands in an attempt to calm her nerves.

"Look, he assured me it would be all done but I guess he found more things that were salvageable then he originally thought. I thought Carlton might go into the mall but I didn't think Rick would be careless enough to leave the entrances open."

"Oh yeah, yeah that's really nice Clay. But you wanna know something interesting? You could have also gone and done it yourself!" Betty shouted back, causing Clay and Carlton to jump a little. She jabbed the finger in harder and pushed Clay further away from Carlton "If you'd done a little more then throw up a few pathetic pieces of wood, then we wouldn't even be having this discussion!"

"This isn't a discussion Betty; it's just you screaming at me."

"Well, maybe you need a good telling off once in a while!"

Carlton buried his face grown in the pillow to try and drown out the argument as it rabbit trailed away from the initial topic. The guilt gnawing within him for failing Michael was bad enough, but listening to his parents argue about every little thing was making it even worse. He squeezed his eyes and attempted to drone out the shouting with his own thoughts. But it did little to distract him as his own thoughts were clouded over with painful guilt.

It was too much, all of it. The guilt, the anger, it was all too much. But as he moved to push his face into further into the couch arm, he felt a friendly yet firm hand tussle his hair. A mixture of as sigh and a withheld sob escaped his lips as he looked up to find his aunt smiling sadly at him. She glanced at her sister and brother law with trepidation and stroked her nephew's hair a little. Maybe it was to comfort Carlton, or just as likely to keep herself calm enough to not join the fight again.

"Be honest auntie, I've really screwed up this time haven't I?" Carlton grumbled, keeping his voice lowered but loud enough for Cynthia to hear.

"Well, yes and no. Going back to Freddy's was a pretty boneheaded idea, but I'm also not a fan of my nephew being hurled about like a football," She snapped her head back towards Clay with a dark glare. ", especially by your own father." The last part was said louder than the rest of her sentence, almost drowning out the ongoing argument. Upon hearing the remark Clay turned towards Cynthia and threw up his arms.

"So what do you all want me to do then? Coddle and let him get away with crimes like you do?" Although it wasn't directly said, Carlton could almost feel Clay wanting to say "I raised you better than this."

"Well you know that it wouldn't be the first time you let someone get away with a crime related to Freddy's," Betty muttered while looking away from him with a scowl. Clay's face twisted in rage as he snapped full attention back on Betty. The sudden angry look, along with his body language caused Cynthia and Carlton to start rising to their feet.

"Care to repeat that, dear?" Clay asked, with a low, venomous tone.

"Oh no, I think you heard me well enough the first time. But since you need the reminder I'll tell you something that quite frankly I expected you to know already." Betty sauntered over to her husband and rose up on her toes to look Clay directly in the eyes.

"Just because circumstantial evidence isn't airtight, doesn't mean you can't get convection out of it. You've gone on and on about protecting the kids after what happened last year, but the truth is that's very cold comfort when you should have stopped William before Charlie lost her father! Before our son lost his best friend and was left traumatized by your inaction!"

The entirety of the house fell silent, save for the sounds of Clay's, deep, angry breathing as the whole of his face went red. The only other sound was the ticking of a nearby clock, intermixing with Clay's heavy breathing. For the first time in years, Carlton began to quietly pray that his dad wouldn't get physical. He'd never hurt him or his mom before, but tonight his temper was being pushed well beyond his limits.

A tense moment passed before Clay began to look around the room and took notice of the collective fear and anger everyone was displaying. He then suddenly loosed his eyes and took a very deep breath. The action taking Betty, Cynthia, and Carlton off their guards, especially as Clay then raised his hands and turned to leave.

"I think it might be for the best if this conversation is continued after we're cooled down with a decent night's rest." He forced a smile that wasn't returned by anybody else, least of all Betty. She crossed her arms and continued to glare at him.

"You do that Clay, I'm going to spend some more time with my son." She said, with voice colder than frozen steel. She said with all of the malice she was able to muster.

Though it was clear to everyone that Clay wanted to respond to her comment, he ultimately held his tongue and he started to make his way towards the stairs. His gaze moving from his wife to his son, with a nervous smile that wasn't returned. Carlton was grateful his dad was trying to deescalate everything, but the whole situation was still burning him up inside.

Clay turned away from them all without a second glance before slowly disappearing up the stairs. Almost as soon as he was gone, Betty walked over to Carlton and gently pushed him back to the couch.

"Sweetie, you need to keep those ice packs on." She picked up the pack and sat down next to him as if the argument hadn't happened. Before he was able to say anything, she pressed the ice pack a little harshly into his bruises. Even as he jumped from the suddenness, Carlton tried to remain calm. Even though he could see the hurt and pain in his mother's eyes. Something that broke his heart more than failing Michael already had and it slipped through despite his attempt to hide it. His mom sighed sadly before dropping her arm from his back, the ice pack falling down to the couch.

"Carlton..I'm so sorry you had to see that." Betty's voice cracking from the mixture of sadness and anger still dwelling within her. Her fists tightening up while her eyes began misting up with tears. "You shouldn't have had to see that."

"I shouldn't have been dumb enough to go back…" Carlton looked down at his feet, the gnawing guilt now eating away at him like a pack of ravenous termites.

"I don't think it's your fault sweetie. I knew this whole thing was a bad idea but I let him talk me into it." Betty shook, more than a little enraged before sighing. Cynthia walked behind the two, moving her hands to rub at their shoulders. She leaned down and looked sympathetically at her nephew before reaching out to pull her sister back onto her feet.

"You'll be fine on your own a bit, right?" She asked him, to which Carlton silently nodded. "Good."

Cynthia half-hugged her sister and began to guide her over towards the kitchen. Whispering something to her that Carlton didn't even try to hear, he wanted to block it out. Block out everything aside from his thoughts.

As soon as his mom and aunt were gone, he laid fully down again. Shoving the icepack off onto the floor and clasped his hands over his eyes. Once he was certain no one could see, he let the tears begin to flow as he began repeating two words on an endless loop. Hoping that somehow, they would be heard and accepted by whoever might hear him. Be they his parents, aunt, or even Michael.

"I'm sorry."

He repeated the words until the tiredness finally won over and sleep took hold of his body. Allowing him to finally drift off to somewhere where he could escape the pain. A place that was far away from the pain of his failure.

Once things had calmed down from their run-in with Arty, the weekend with Jessica had gone on without any further problems. But it had gone by too quickly and before anyone realized, it was time for Jessica to head home. The departure was bittersweet for them all, also rather comforting to Charlie. After all the years apart, it felt good to have at least a few of her friends close enough for a visit.

But perhaps the best thing had been Jeremy sticking to his word regarding separating her and Arty. In the two days that she'd been back to work she hadn't seen any sign of Arty at all. Although she didn't know what had been done to ensure he stayed away, she ultimately didn't want to press the issue further.

Especially since Jeremy had become impressed with the speed and care demonstrated while covering Kevin's work and had made restocking the shelves one of her main duties at the store. She didn't mind the work, although she could do without having to wake up early and go in early like she was back in school.

If Charlie didn't know any better, she'd say that having employees come in so early was an effort to drive up the store's coffee sales. Course it might have also been her own tiredness talking, not helped by the fact she was currently stocking up the food aisle.

The lack of a meaningful breakfast wasn't doing much to help her out. However, a quick check of her watch revealed that she only had another half hour left. With that little bit of helpful motivation, Charlie straightened herself up to begin stocking up the snack aisle.

Once she'd gotten down a good rhythm in her head, Charlie began humming to herself. It was a good if simple means of staying distracted during the monotonous hours of stocking. Part of her wished she had something like a walkman to help in shutting out the world around her and just focus on the task. But Jeremy made it clear they weren't allowed while on the clock

Still, Charlie didn't mind it and besides, it was much cheaper than any music player. Though it did have a rather significant drawback, as the more focused on her task the less she noticed around her. Perhaps, had she been paying closer attention, she might have noticed it when Arty was walked directly up beside her before proceeding to loudly clear his throat. Cutting herself off mid hum, Charlie turned to face Arty while also masking her disappointment at his presence.

"Arty, can I help you something?" Charlie tried not to let her anger show but she was taken back as she realized Arty was doing the same. The young man's face was a bright red despite him taking in a few deep breaths before he spoke.

"Hey Charlotte...can I ask you a question?" Charlie stepped back as Arty pulled a slip of paper from his pockets and thrust it in her direction. "Do you know anything about this? Fighting back the urge to reprimand him for using her full name again, Charlie hesitantly took the paper from him. Though she kept her eyes partially trained on Arty, who was still taking in deep breaths of air. While it may have been somewhat calming for him, it just made Charlie more unnerved than ever.

She unfolded the paper and started to quickly read it only to become even further confused than she already was. "I'm not entirely sure what you want me to do with your schedule."

Breathing in again, Arty gestured to the times with an annoyed huff. "They're completely changed from how they used to be a week ago and some of my hours have even been cut."

"Alright, but again it's not my problem if Jeremy suddenly changed it," Charlie said before handing the paper back to Arty. But despite her nonchalance, she suspected that the schedule change had been Jeremy's way to keep them apart.

"He'd tell me if he was going to change it like that." Arty snatched the paper from Charlie and stuffed it back into his pocket. "But he hasn't said anything to me since the week began."

"I understand that it's upsetting but don't get why you're coming to me about it, I don't make the schedules so why aren't you talking to Jeremy?" Charlie took a few steps back and positioned the cart in case she needed to block Arty from reaching her.

"Well I had a little thought about when my schedule changed and it all came back to you," Arty said as his face and expression lowered. "Charlotte, did you tattle on me for trying to help you?"

"Help me?" Charlie blurted before covering her mouth. Arty sneered and stomped his foot.

"I knew it! I go out of my way to try and help and the only 'thanks' i get is you screwing up my job!" He took a few steps forward and Charlie blocked him off using the cart. She then began backing up the cart and bit her tongue in an effort to keep from snapping at Arty as he continued to rant.

"How could you just throw it all back in my face? I exposed that abusive deadbeat and you not only side with him, but you also decided to screw up my life just because I wanted to help!" Arty's scowl turned into a sad frown as he gestured towards himself as his voice turned into a sad warble. "All I wanted to do was help you Charlotte."

The efforts taken to keep herself quiet were made futile as Charlie held up a hand, silencing Arty as she began to speak. "Your 'help' wasn't needed, Arthur and my relationship with John isn't your business. You jumped the gun with baseless assumptions that you think are true just because you saw something. But you never actually bothered to try and get my side of things." Charlie pulled the cart out of Arty's grip, causing him to stumble. As he got back to his feet, he took a deep breath before speaking again.

"Look Charlotte, I know admitting this sort of thing can be hard to admit-"

"There is nothing to admit! John has never once, in his life, hurt me or touched me when I didn't want him to. What you saw at the mall was him covering up something I don't even want to talk about with anyone, especially you."
"Oh that's rich; you don't want to talk about it. Of course, you don't because that would shatter the little reality you've built up around your 'amazing' boyfriend." Arty mockingly cooed and Charlie began to feel her blood boil over. "You've sunken so deep that you won't admit it, so when someone comes along to try and help you push them aside to-" Arty was cut off as Charlie pushed aside the cart and got directly into his face.

"Listen here, Arthur. You know nothing of me, or John, or our history or what our relationship is like, and you don't need to know. Maybe next time, try to get the whole story before you jump to conclusions and make damn scenes!" Charlie snarled and although Arty backed away, he stood his ground and continued on.

"Oh, I'm making a scene? You're the one who had Mr. Fitzgerald screw up my hours because you can't see how terrible John is!"

"I didn't tell him to give you fewer hours, just that I didn't want to work with you." Charlie turned around and grabbed her cart, heading down the aisle. "I don't want to be around you either so maybe it'd be best if you go do your work and leave me alone before you're worried about more than just a few cut hours."

Arty stared after Charlie, red in the face and getting angrier by the second. "Did you just threaten me?" He called, but Charlie gave no reply. Instead, she kept moving and tried to calm herself down. Unfortunately, that would be hard to do with Arty constantly yelling after her.

"Charlotte! You'd better not go back to Mr. Fitzgerald about this! Charlotte!" Oh, how Charlie wished she could cover her ears. But she had to keep moving the cart and began to power walk down the aisle to put as much distance between herself and Arty as she could.

"Charlotte!" Arty shouted. This time, he let out something akin to a growl before Charlie then heard the sound shuffling before Arty let out a small grunt. She didn't worry about it until something hard hit her back. She shot forward, gasping aloud in pain before looking back to see what had hit her. What she found was a package of now broken cookies laying at her feet, then realized there was another coming right towards her head. Acting fast she ducked out of the way as it struck the cart, knocking a few products off and onto the floor.

She looked back and saw Arty reaching out for another box as his face became redder than before. Just as his hand grabbed the next package though, another hand grabbed hold of Arty's arm. It closed tight and then spun him around, so he was face to face with a furious Jeremy Fitzgerald.

"My office Arty. Now." Charlie could only step back in shock at seeing Jeremy's normally calm demeanor be replaced by an angry chili. Arty himself shook and pointed back towards Charlie.

"S-shouldn't you want us Charlie too sir? Both of us were arguing and- ?" Jeremy's gaze hardened even further, the grip on Arty's arm tightened as he pointed at the two boxes of cookies now spilled out on the floor.

"Charlie isn't the one who decided to assault her co-worker with store products." He turned around, pushing Arty so he was now in front of him. "My office."

All Arty could bring himself to do was nod and start walking. Before he followed, Jeremy turned back to look at Charlie as his angry expression softened. He gazed down at the scattered products and then sighed.

"I'll have someone else take care of this, can you wait for me in the break room?" He asked, to which Charlie nodded slowly before Jeremy walked off behind Arty.

But despite Jeremy's assistance, the whole situation left Charlie with a terrible knot in her stomach, along with a minor pain in her back where the cookies had hit. Her eyes wandered across the products that had fallen off her cart and for a second she considered picking them up herself but then Jeremy's voice came over the intercom.

"I need someone to head to the snack aisle for a clean up: I repeat the snack aisle for clean up." With a crackle, the intercom fell silent and left Charlie asking herself, 'How did he know what I was thinking?' while she walked back to the break room.

The whole walk back was filled with questions, doubts, and worries running through her head. Deep down, she was worried about being in just as much trouble as Arty. Considering that she hadn't kept her own cool during their argument, something she mentally chastised herself for. But she kept reminding herself that Jeremy hadn't seemed to be angry with her more than he was Arty. But that didn't stop the worries from coming as she took a seat in the break room and began waiting.

Which to her surprise wasn't a very long wait at all. Barely five minutes had passed since she sat down when Jeremy walked into the break room and sat down across from her. A sour expression on his face, that fell into a sympathetic one while taking his seat.

Charlie looked away from him and took in a deep breath. Their seating positions making it feel as though she was being interviewed all over again as Jeremy looked down at his hands and sighed. Half a minute passed before he looked back up at Charlie. "You won't have to worry about Arty causing you any more trouble."

"Are you moving his shifts again?" She quietly asked. To which Jeremy shook his head and solemnly explained further,

"He doesn't have any shifts now and he won't be allowed in the store as a customer either."

Charlie's head snapped up, her jaw threatening to drop as the words left Jeremy's mouth. "You fired him?"

"Yes," Jeremy sighed. "With all his recent behavioral problems and considering his actions just now it was the only right choice to make."

"I see." Charlie trailed off and looked away. Getting Arty fired wasn't something she'd been hoping for but truthfully she was relieved that he'd no longer be around her. She looked back again as Jeremy continued speaking.

"I'm especially sorry I didn't notice his infatuation with you either, which Rebecca commented on. I had been planning to discuss it with him when his shift ended but when I saw him decide to start throwing things like a child, I felt more immediate action was necessary." The room fell silent again as Jeremy leaned forward and placed his hands across his chin.

"Charlie, if you wish to clock out and take the next day off then I won't say anything or dock your pay." Charlie stared back in shock, taken back by Jeremy's generosity. She thought about protesting it but the more she let it sink in and thought about it, the more sense it made.

"It probably would be for the best..." She said quietly and a half-smile formed on Jeremy's face as he stood up.

"If you'd like I can clock you out." He gestured towards the time cards and Charlie accepted before getting up and walking out of the break room and towards the front of the store. Rebecca gave an approving nod while watching Charlie leave and head for the car.

She didn't know why though, but despite Jeremy's generosity along with the relief knowing Arty would be off her back, she couldn't untangle the knots in her stomach. But perhaps that's why she'd taken up Jeremy's offer. A day of rest wouldn't be too bad after everything that had happened and Charlie hoped that it would be more than enough to return things to normal.