Mable: I am a published author! My novel, 'A Fool's Endeavor', is now on Amazon Kindle, for phone, and paperback! I'm so proud to have made it this far. ^-^ If you are interested then please check it out! My labor of love is finally complete- I have created life!... Or, at least, I wrote a book. XD Conglaturation to me. Seriously, though, if you are interested in medieval-fantasy and like my structure of writing, then maybe look at the page and see if you're interested.

Almost Feels Like Home

Chapter Eleven

Funny enough, after the police, the news, and Kathleen, Mike had the hardest time getting through the drive back home. It was only now that thoughts of Magictime Theater truly returned, and he got to think of the nightmare everyone had went through. Parents might've been negligent in some cases, he didn't know, but they obviously were devastated by the loss. To think of having a child vanish and never seeing them again was hard, and that was mostly because it had happened at Freddy's and the culprit got away with it. In this case, Dave took the fall- and apparently died- and now Rhonda and Jose were sure to lose their livelihood.

There were mixed feelings on this. There was no doubt that Magictime Theater was going to suffer massive setbacks from this, if they didn't shut down altogether. Which Mike wasn't sure if he wanted to happen. Sure, he didn't want the competition, but he wasn't a monster looking to take out other businesses. Yet on the other hand, Mike couldn't help but be frustrated at the situation. How someone could not know that there were children in their basement for a week was absurd. They were children stuck in a small room, living on mattresses, eating whatever garbage Dave scrounged together for them; there had to be some repercussions for that.

Part of him wondered how the animatronics would fair after the place closed. They weren't alive he didn't think- considering what happened he certainly hoped not- but it was still tragic to see a working animatronic go abandoned. They declined quickly when not tended to and while Mike wasn't exactly fond of them, he would've been willing to purchase them to save them from such a fate. If they had that much many to spend. It seemed like a waste to have them rot away like the ones at Chippers had done, even if they were talking about Orville the Elephant.

"You're getting too attached to animatronics, Schmidt. They're not all like Marionette. They're not all cuddly and sweet- most of them aren't even alive," Mike mentally scolded. "…But still, would be nice to have workers that we didn't have to worry about overworking. Just stick them on stage, program them, and let them run through… Eh… Might creep out Foxy and Mari. It would be like making a scarecrow out of a corpse."

The thoughts only died down once he pulled into the driveway. Now he would be able to see why nobody answered the phone, and whether it was simple oversleeping or something serious. He unlocked the front door, slipped off and hung up his coat, and looked around the home. The television was off, the lights were all on how he left them, and only now did he notice leaving out his bowl, which he proceeded to put away out of reflex. Maybe the Puppet was just asleep.

"Mari? I'm home!" he called out. Yet there was no answer. Usually Marionette would greet him at the door, so this made a case for him being asleep. Something just didn't feel right and Mike was starting to get a little more uneasy. "Maybe he's in the back…" He started down the hallway. "Mari? Is everything okay?"

A few steps into the hallway and he could hear a muffled voice from further down. Then, only a moment later and without much warning, Marionette appeared in the hallway before him. The Puppet's distress was immediately obvious from both his melancholy look and the purple smeared onto his porcelain. Mike knew something had happened while he was gone.

"Mike, I'm glad you're home. I'm sorry, I… I didn't hear you calling me. I was a little unfocused…" His voice was meek, and he fumbled his hands together, absentmindedly playing with one of his strings, and sighed. "I'm not quite myself. There was a bit of an… incident while you were gone."

"I can see that." Marionette tilted his head and Mike pointed to his mask.

The Puppet touched at his mask before noticing the dry substance on it. He gave a twang of disappointment, "For goodness sake." He then quickly whisked into the bathroom to wash his face in the sink.

"You have a little blue on your chest too," the security guard forewarned. He stood in the doorway and watched as Marionette scrubbed the cool water onto his face and fabric. "I'm going to take a guess and say she didn't take it well."

Marionette hesitated to watch the light purple rinsing down the drain. He then sighed and shut off the water, but kept his hands resting on the edge of the porcelain. "No, she didn't… But I'm not too surprised." He turned his head to look at the security guard and gave a feathery sigh of distress. Then he fully turned towards the security guard and began to explain. "She panicked, and I managed to calm her down, but she's… She won't speak. I can't tell if she's having trouble speaking- it's very likely- or the shock made her mute. She… She won't leave the closet. She's holed herself up in there."

After admitting this, Marionette put one arm around himself, almost clutching him middle, and covered his face with his free hand. It was obvious that he was upset. As simple as he tried to say it, he was distraught that Charlie reacted so severely. Though Mike was also becoming increasingly concerned from how Marionette was reacting to it. He had seen others become animatronics, so if he was concerned about how she was handling it then Mike was also concerned. She was a human who had just become something entirely different; it wasn't surprising that it would be difficult to handle.

"Maybe I should go check on her. Not that you're not doing an excellent job on your own, but, I don't know, maybe having me tell her everything that happened will help. I can't see it hurting," Mike offered. The Puppet nodded vigorously in agreement, as though he had been waiting for the man to offer. This would be as important as the interview with the police and the news, even if on a smaller scale. If he said something wrong then he could risk further despair, but for some reason Mike felt a little more confident in this case. The only person who could twist his words was him, and honesty, full honesty, would be a vital tool.

"I don't know why I even imagined she would handle this well. Her life as she knew it is over." Marionette sighed in somber defeat. "This house is where dreams go to die."

"That probably explains why we have so many nightmares," Mike quipped from behind. Before the door could be opened he turned back and added in, "By the way, Fritz asked me to call him about fixing Baby."

"Let's deal with one unstable young woman at a time," Marionette insisted. Mike shrugged half-heartedly and stepped into the bedroom, with the striped one following right behind. The bedroom light was on, the curtains were closed, and the closet doors were cracked open, with the artificial light not reaching inside. The security guard approached the closet door and laid his hands on the knobs.

"Charlie? It's me, Mike," he said to brace her with this then opened the doors. The Security Puppet was pulled into itself against the back wall with its head resting on its arms, which were resting on its knees. It, or she, didn't even look up as he opened the door and leaned in. "Don't worry, I'm not going to come in… Looking at it, I probably couldn't even if I wanted to." He looked at the boxes of toys and clothes stacked in the closet. "Well, looks like we do have a store room. Not really what I was expecting, but good to know that I've got another place to dump things."

He got distracted briefly but then was brought back by Marionette's worried tap on his shoulder. Mike waved him off and looked to Charlie once again. Then he knelt beside her and let his concern come through. "We were worried you weren't going to wake up. You slept through most of it. Probably for the best; last night was one hell of a night. If it was possible, I would've slept through the whole thing too, but I'm still the designated driver." She shifted her head and started to lift it upwards, but did so shakily, as though her neck and body was still weak.

"I'm going to take a guess and say that you're really confused about all of this, probably freaked out about it, and you've got every right to be," Mike assured. He decided to go ahead with the truth. "We aren't exactly sure what happened, but from what we saw… It looked like Dave hit you with his car." The female puppet gave a sort of shudder as his description fit into her memories. "When we got to you, you were bleeding out. It didn't look like you were going to make it, so… You know. You obviously know… By time the paramedics got there they couldn't revive you, and we brought you here so that you wouldn't get shipped off by the theater."

Charlie shifted a little bit. She then rubbed a hand on her mask as though still feeling it in disbelief. A low jingling echoed through her chest. Alas, Mike wasn't as fluent in jingles as he was in chiming, but he assumed it was something either somber, confused, or a mixture of both.

"I can't imagine what you're going through right now. I've got this vague idea, but it's nothing like the real thing… but that doesn't mean you have to go through it alone. We're both here for you, and we're going to make sure you can get through this." Mike then looked back to Marionette to find him missing. He stared at the empty space briefly before looking to her again, "Mari'll be back. He went to see a man about a crazy clown woman."

The Security Puppet shifted again uncomfortably. She moved her new legs and looked down at them, trying to straighten out her back once more. Halfway through the motion her body gave out and she collapsed into herself again.

"Take it easy. Mari said it might be a little while until you're used to this body… That's the understatement of the century. Or take a few days before you get your strength back. Getting used to the body in a physical sense." Mike's recovery was only somewhat successful, but he had a feeling that Charlie would've had the same reaction regardless of whatever he had said. As for him, it felt so strange. It didn't feel like he was talking to the Charlie he had somewhat knew. Though that could've been because she still couldn't talk back.

"You want to come out here and… I don't know, look at the house? You're probably tired but, I mean, the house isn't that big," Mike offered. He wanted to do something to ease the mood. Though it was cut short when the Toreador March suddenly echoed out from his pocket. "Hold on, that's probably nobody," Mike assured. He intended to check the phone, see it was someone he could avoid, and hang up to return to comforting Charlie. Unfortunately, he recognized the number. "…Or it's my mother. Let me just- I'll be quick, I promise." Not feeling comfortable leaving the room, Mike just moved to the other side of it.

As soon as he answered, he was met with the frantic voice. "Hey Mom. I'm- No, I'm okay. No, Mom, I'm fine… It was a late night and Mari was tired… Yeah, he was there too… No, he's not a problem. The guy, he's… Uh…" He turned his head away in the hope that Charlie wouldn't hear and muttered out. "He's dead… No, I didn't do it!... Mom, please don't cry. People are going to think you're crying for the kidnapper… Don't cry for me either. Cry for the kids… No, they're fine."

Marionette returned before Mike could get off the phone. He briefly acknowledged the man's situation before approaching the closet and kneeling beside it. He looked to Charlie in concern and the new puppet simply hid her head back into her arms once more.

"Would you… Would you let me take you back to the bed? You look tired, Charlie. I think you would be more comfortable in bed," Marionette offered. He just wasn't comfortable leaving her enclosed in a tiny, overstuffed closet.

At first, she looked reluctant, but she then gave a small nod and tried to lift herself. Marionette slowly wrapped an arm behind her while taking her hand and trying to help her up. She couldn't hover at all and her legs were almost just as wobbly as Marionette's were. Though considering that he could get her up on them it was already a little better than him, who had only become capable of standing without using levitation- even while teetering- relatively recently. Perhaps her body wasn't built the same as his. He couldn't help but be moderately curious, but this was neither the time nor place to ask about examining her body.

He glanced at Mike right about the time the human noticed what he was doing. "Sorry, Mom. I have to go, Mari needs me. I'll call you back later." Mike ended the call and hurried to Charlie's other side. "Alright, so are we carrying her or letting her walk?"

"A little of both?" Marionette guessed as he looked down. She didn't look too stable and he immediately regretted the call. "On second thought, let's just lift her. She's tired anyways and she shouldn't have to push herself to get into bed." Mike nodded in agreement and boldly reached down to lift a leg. The Puppet didn't feel as confident in doing so and nowhere near bold enough to overstep anymore boundaries, so instead they just carried her in a strange, lopsided fashion to the bed. Thankfully, they were at least able to get her in and under the covers.

"There you are! Would you like us to stay until you fall asleep?" Marionette chirped as he began to dote on her. She promptly responded by rolling over to face the window. After a moment, he concocted his own answer. "It's no trouble at all! Here, let me just tuck in your jacket over you so you'll be more comfortable."

It was clear that Charlie was shutting down emotionally once more. It really was no different from the closet, but from how Marionette was acting it almost seemed like Mike was the only one who noticed it. Still, he decided against suggesting that they should leave. He told her they would be there and after the phone call he was already borderline hypocritical. So, he decided not to say anything at all. If she wanted them gone then she would make the motions to communicate it.

Marionette slid to sit on the edge of the bed, legs crossed and leaning back on his arms semi-casually. He was overcompensating, but at least he was no longer crying. "So then, your day?"

"I went down to the police station and then sat with a news crew for over an hour. It was a ton of fun," Mike sarcastically quipped as he sat down alongside him. Joking aside, he knew that the Puppet was stressed out, and so he continued with something more positive. "Kathleen came by to thank us after the interview. I expected her to freak out, I expected her to wring my neck, but I never expected she was going to offer us money. I almost took it until I realized that Chrissy's allowance is pretty much paying Jeremy's moving expenses," he added with a playful smirk.

The relief was immediate. Marionette had anticipated that Kathleen would turn her anger on them. Though he wouldn't have blamed her, as he couldn't help but blame himself for letting Dave get Chrissy in the first place. By the end of the ordeal he was so relieved that she was safe that he had almost completely forgotten the risk of never having her return to Foxy's again. He would've still tried to visit her, but it would've been so much harder to do so. "Did she say how Chrissy was?"

"She's missing you already, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that she's still shaken by this whole thing. Still afraid of Dave too, and Kathleen didn't think it was a good idea to tell her about what happened to him… Speaking of which…" Mike's blue eyes slowly slid over to lock onto the Puppet. "There's something I need to tell you."

"Go ahead," Marionette agreed with a wave of his hand.

"Should we leave?" Mike asked, looking back towards Charlie. The last thing he wanted was to put her under anymore stress. Especially depending on the answer.

"I think she's asleep now… But if she's not, I have nothing to hide," Marionette insisted. He turned his head towards the security guard. "What is it?"

"Dave's dead." Mike yanked it off like a band-aid and tried to make it as painless as possible. "I'm not sure what killed him, but they were talking as though it was drug related. He died last night." He wasn't sure what he expected from the Puppet. The slow look of dawning shock had been a realistic possibility and seemed to suggest that he didn't know. Though there was still doubt, Mike's desire to as Marionette directly if he was involved or knew about it was briefly diminished.

"He's… Dead," Marionette repeated. His voice cracked lightly. "What… What does that mean about the investigation?"

"I don't know," Mike admitted. "I guess it means that it's over. They caught him at least. Didn't really serve any sort of sentence, but at least they know who did it…" He shrugged a bit; optimism wasn't exactly his forte. Especially not when he had almost protected Dave with the hope that he would serve a sentence, all for naught. "I can't say I feel bad for him, or that I'm surprised after he had to get wheeled out on a stretcher. Not after he was drooling and everything."

"Yes, the foaming. Perhaps it was his heart. Maybe the fear mixed with whatever poison was in his body was a lethal concoction. It could've been the shock of the animatronics' attack, it could've been seeing me, it could've been something defective in his heart," Marionette murmured. It almost seemed like he was searching for an excuse past his slightly vacant look.

"Could've been me. I tased the hell out of him," Mike pointed out, almost in the same line of defense. He then scoffed, "Fear and electrocution- the one time we could've actually used Ennard for something. You know he still owes us a favor."

"To be perfectly honest, I wouldn't have stopped it if I could've," Marionette interrupted. He hated saying it to Mike because he didn't want to frighten him, but he found his anger bubbling over. As much as he wanted to give the impression of being calm and level headed he found himself being honest instead. "I wanted to do it. I wanted to break his body." For a moment his mask twisted in anger, with the pinpricks of lights returning once more, but then it died down quick. He lowered his head in shame. "And in the process, I almost hurt an innocent man. If you wouldn't have stepped in, would I have noticed my mistake in time…?"

"Yes," Mike bluntly stated. Marionette looked upwards doubtfully and guiltily. "I'm not just saying that. I think if you got close enough you would've noticed your mistake, but by then the real Dave would've slipped away. The only reason I wanted to turn Dave in alive was for myself." The Puppet looked confused and Mike decided that he too needed to be honest. "When I was talking with Dave, distracting him, he pointed out that I could've taken the fall for all of this. That's when I knew we had to keep him alive, because I knew if he was dead the suspicion would fall on me."

"…I didn't even consider that…" Marionette murmured quietly. "…I suppose I could have replayed audio of Dave confessing- or mocked it well enough- but that still would've been a much more difficult explanation… I feel like a murderer."

"Why? You didn't murder him," Mike remarked. The Puppet said nothing, and the security guard looked at him. The animatronic looked strangely guilty. "…Mari?"

At once, Marionette gave a tired, chuckling chime and crossed his legs on the bed, propping his head up with one hand. "Let's just agree that we do better with aggressive animatronics." He seemed to be trying to change the subject. That seemed the slightest bit suspicious, but the human decided to go along with it. Even if the death was still very strange.

"I second that, and we can prove it when Fritz calls us in two hours about Baby being out of control," Mike remarked with a smirk. He hoped that wasn't a joke that would come back to bite him. He grew a bit more serious, "Don't let Dave be a mark on your conscious, Mari. I don't. I mean, I'm shocked he's dead, and I guess there is a part of me that doesn't naturally want someone to die, but he set the whole thing up himself."

"I know… And I won't. Trust me, I have enough on my conscious," Marionette assured as he reached for Mike's shoulder. "I'm just relieved that I didn't scare you off for good." As much as Mike would've loved to list out how much the Puppet had done that was actually terrifying, he didn't. He kept the tone light.

"You'd have to try a little harder than that to get rid of me." After all, it had been them holding together this long. It was right at that moment when Mike vaguely wondered how long Charlie would be with them. They had yet to discuss whether this was a temporary arrangement or whether he was considering keeping Charlie there longer. Considering the scenario, it seemed likely that she would need to stay with them for some time. Neither of them would turn her away.

…He didn't even want to imagine how she was going to feel when she realized that she couldn't just go home and live normally.

Something was different when Baby woke. Her eyes were still covered, and she was still in the same position, but something seemed odd. Perhaps it had something to do with how quiet it was in the room. There was some movement, but not the babbling from the startled technician that she had anticipated. He always seemed so nervous that he couldn't help but babble out and she had become familiar with it, so this was unexpected. Her claw twitched as she turned her head to listen.

"Hello?"

That was the voice of a child. Baby immediately focused in, but then wondered if it was just another test. It seemed likely, but she was surprised they were trying again so soon. Though then again, she wasn't sure how long it had been.

"Umm… Hi… Can you talk?"

It wasn't until she heard the squeak of a toy that she genuinely believed it was a child this time. It was a lone child coming towards her. She found herself staring in its direction even when she couldn't see and waiting for the boy to draw in closer. A soft footstep and she could tell he was almost within her reach. She knew the reflexes would kick in soon enough. That uncontrollable urge to grab was just as fluid as breathing would've been, she supposed.

"You can talk to me. I'm alone. I won't tell anyone…"

With that, he stepped into her range, and her claw clamped down… On itself. Baby tried to flex it, but it felt jammed into itself. This didn't feel right, especially when the child was so close, and the desires were back. That need to feel whole was coursing through her. That urge to open herself and offer a freshly made cone of ice cream. Children loved the ice cream. Soft and gentle, cold and sweet; they were to it like a rat would go to the cheese on a trap. All that delicious ice cream, so soft that it was about to melt, and the children would come in closer and closer. Her chest tightened as parts that should no longer open wanted to open.

Baby wanted nothing more than to open her chest and- make ice cream.

…No, that wasn't right. Ice cream wouldn't make her complete. It was that filling of fulness, of warmth, and that complete feeling that she desired. She would be whole, she would do what she was created to do, and she didn't care if it was all programming. She tried to clench her claw, her other hand scraping on the floor, and her chest jittering to open and close even when it fought itself. She wanted the feeling of completion, even if she knew it was the programming. It made her want more than anything to open her chest and blend her insides until the softest, coldest, sweetest ice cream treat was served.

She didn't want to touch the child at all. Now that he was close, Baby just wanted to make ice cream. Sweet, cold, and soothing ice cream would be perfect. Whether she used it as bait or just held it in her hands until it dribbled down her fingers. Then she would lick the ice cream and taste the sweet vanilla full all her senses and cool her body from the inside out. She missed the taste of it.

No, that wasn't right. She didn't taste ice cream. Baby didn't eat anything and never had. She just smelled it, and ice cream, while faint, always smelled good.

It was such an entrancing thought that Baby was cut off guard when a hand suddenly touched her. Her claw was tightened like a vice, her torso shuddered, her hand raised, then fell, then raised again, clutching in place, wanting something and yet so unsure what it was. She couldn't even manage to grab ahold of the child as her mind clustered together into a web of need, of being complete, of ice cream, of flustered programming, and suddenly it all gave out. Suddenly her mind went clear and her body went still. Baby's mind collapsed in under the weight of its own programming.

There was a moment of silence. Then, suddenly, there was an eager burst of laughter.

"Wonderful! You did great!" Fritz exclaimed as he set the squeaker and tape player aside. He then came back over to Baby and knelt in front of her. "That's the first time you've been able to resist against the programming! How are you feeling? Everything seems to be working right?"

Yet everything didn't feel like it was working right. The fact that nothing would work right when she thought there was a child, and only felt normal again now that she knew it was a trap, was a warning sign that something inside of her was changed. She didn't like that feeling. The thought that he could manipulate her so easily was frustrating. "I'm not sure. I feel broken and nothing works… So, no, I would say that nothing is working right."

"Trust me, Baby, this is just the first step to erasing all of this and leaving you a free person," Fritz reassured. He was too delighted by his progress to think of what he was doing next and reached out to lay a hand on her arm. It was a bold gesture, and risky considering that Baby was so unpredictable. Honestly, this was the first time the technician had touched her in a friendly way and not just as a technician. It made her claw clench even tighter and her internal wires shift. She just wasn't used to anyone being unafraid enough to risk such an action.

He was a foolish man, but his touch was… Comforting.

"You did really good today. If we keep making progress then in no time we'll have this all reversed, and you'll be free of these impulses," Fritz said. His tone faltered, "But for now… I guess I'll put you back under to rest. There's still more I need to fix in the meantime. Don't think of it as a negative though; this really is a breakthrough." His hand patted her arm. So warm, soft, the sensation of flesh that Baby missed. It had felt like an eternity since she had made touched real skin. It made things whirr in her chest that she didn't even know could still come on. He must have fixed something internally to take that coldness away.

He reminded her of someone. Maybe her father- or creator. She only vaguely remembered him, but in some moments- beyond the jolts of electricity and being scooped from the inside out- she could vaguely remember being treated warmly. How long had it been since someone had used that tone with her? Fritz sounded so proud in her, even though her body was more broken than ever. She liked hearing that and only wanted more out of it. She needed to thank him in whatever way she could, and thus forced herself to say the closest thing to one.

"If you're going to break my mind, you could at least fix my ice cream maker."

She waited until she had heard Mike and Marionette quiet down and assumed they had went to bed. It wasn't that she was worried they would stop her, but she wanted to avoid the coddling for the moment. She already felt so weak without it. She appreciated that she hadn't spent all day alone- even if they had kept asking if she wanted to leave the bedroom. At the time she hadn't, but now she felt like she had to do something. Charlie didn't trust her body as she slowly moved her legs out from under the covers. She suspected that it would fail her, but she needed to try something.

She pushed herself off the bed and onto the tips of her legs but was rewarded by wavering in place before collapsing back in the sitting position. "It's not even like walking on legs! It's like walking on stilts!" she lamented in frustration. Her impatience turned to somberness. "I'm going to be walking on stilts from now on…" Which meant that she had no other options. If she waited then she wouldn't go anywhere, and she was too embarrassed to ask either of the others for help.

Once more she pushed herself up and hunched over to grab the bedside stand. With both her hands on the piece of furniture, she was able to keep herself upright, though only barely. Taking everything as slowly as she could, she straightened herself up. Charlie thought that she had finally gotten it as she had mostly straightened herself. She then took a step towards the bedroom door, started moving and then didn't stop, and hit the carpet heavily. She gave a huff of static in discomfort and frustration, and she slowly began to pull herself up onto her hands and knees.

Reaching upwards, Charlie tried to use the doorknob to lift herself upwards. She couldn't straighten herself like this, but she just managed to get onto her points again. Then she opened the door and held herself up with the frame. One of the doors in the hallway was cracked open and light filtered out through it into the hallway. Focusing on it as a point to make it to, Charlie took a few wobbly steps. Once more she collapsed to the carpet. If she was expected to hover like Marionette, then she had no idea how she was going to accomplish it when she couldn't even keep herself up.

Tired of struggling against it, she began to crawl along the carpet towards the door. "What's more humiliating, falling on my face over and over or crawling?... Falling, definitely." She got to the door and guided it open. It seemed to be a bathroom and was exactly what she needed.

Charlie pulled herself up off the floor with the sink and managed to brace herself on it enough to look at herself in the mirror. Now seeing her face for the first time she was once again taken aback. She hadn't really expected it to look like it did, even when it totally fit with everything she could feel. She really was some sort of puppet like Marionette was- it certainly explained the legs- from the tear marks to the pale mask. Just staring at her new body felt like too much.

"Well, here I am. Alive and not dead…" Charlie's hands tightened on the sink as she felt the horror return. "And now an animatronic… Forever… And I'm never going back. My body is gone… Forever."

Whether it be from her weak legs or overwhelming emotion- she would rather believe the former- Charlie dropped forward and hung her head down to stare into the bottom of the sink. Her arms shook from strain as she tried to ease herself. "I can do this. It could be worse. I could be dead," she reminded herself. Small, blue tears dotted the bottom of the sink against the white porcelain. She certainly didn't want to be dead either, but this wasn't what she had ever anticipated. "If I would've just gotten out of the way-!"

An agonizing draw of squealing bells choked from her chest and she tried to swallow them down. She had almost hoped that she controlled the bells. It was bad enough having one ring from the back of her head whenever she moved. Nothing like a constant reminder that she was an overgrown toy.

It was at that moment that Charlie had the intense urge to go home. She didn't know what she would do next or how she would continue from here, but she needed to get home, even just for a moment. "Calm down, Charlie. If I can get down the hallway then I can get home… And maybe get back before they notice I'm gone." She just needed to be home, if only for a few moments, as though she was being pulled to do so by puppet strings. She just needed to remind herself that home was still a real place. She couldn't understand why, though. Home had never been a comfort for her. It was just full of empty memories. It wasn't like she even had a family to go back to…

But if she could crawl from the bedroom to the bathroom, then maybe she could even crawl all the way home.

Marionette woke up with the feeling that something was wrong. He wasn't sure if something woke him or not, but he felt uneasy, and knew he wouldn't fall back asleep without checking on Charlie. After the incident earlier, Charlie had been largely confined to the bed, and it was possible that after sleeping so long she had roused once more. It only took him an instant to check his internal clock, to which he realized that it was still late at night, or early in the morning. It was certainly an odd time to wake up for no reason. He slipped out from under Mike's grasp and left the bedroom to go see if the girl was alright.

Charlie hadn't exactly recovered after the incident earlier. It was quite clear with how reluctant she was to engage in anything that it was still a hard adjustment. This left him in a weird situation; he wanted to distract her, he wanted to help her, but he couldn't do that until she was ready. Thankfully, she hadn't refused his and Mike's company throughout the day. This was great considering that Mike was able to talk his way through anything and come out of it sounding as comfortable as could be. She didn't talk back yet, save the occasional low bell noise to signal distress.

If she was awake now, then it was possible that she had retreated to the closet again to feel secure. Perhaps it was some sort of 'box-centric' programming that she didn't even know existed, but he suspected it was just for security. Perhaps he needed to consider taking the things out of there and moving them into the attic instead. Just in case she wanted to permanently use the closet as a personal 'box'.

It didn't seem like a wise idea to teleport in and risk startling her so Marionette instead used the door as he would in any normal situation. He opened the door carefully and peered inside the room. The overhead light was off, but the bedside lamp lit the room in a warm glow. His gaze fell on the empty bed.

"Charlie?" Marionette asked as he hovered closer. The blankets were nudged down, and her jacket was missing, so he then looked to the closet doors that were open a crack. He withheld a distressed tune as he approached them and carefully opened them. To his immediate confusion, the Security Puppet wasn't in the closet either, and now he wondered if she was somewhere else in the house. "I didn't check the living room… Maybe she went out there?"

He shut the closet and turned around. It was at that moment Marionette noticed a disturbance in the curtains. They were moving the slightest bit and he moved to them and drew them back. The window was left open underneath the curtain. For some reason, Charlie had decided to open the window.

He had only a second or two of ignorant bliss before realization abruptly set in.

Marionette leaned out the window abruptly and craned turn himself to look around the backyard, only to find nothing. "Charlie?!" he called out as he started to slide out. He then stopped momentarily when he was halfway out as he noticed a disturbance in the mud that had culminated underneath the window from the recent rain. It had to have been her, as she no doubt had trouble climbing out the window in her new body. The panic was immediate, and he risked being spotted as he circled the outside of the house to look for her.

He had hoped that she hadn't gotten too far in her state, and that nobody would spot either of them due to what time it was. Thankfully, the latter seemed like a possibility, as Marionette hovered out in the driveway without any eyes falling on him, nor even spotting a house in the vicinity with any of their lights on- save maybe a porch light. But Charlie was nowhere to be seen, and Marionette found himself nearly spinning in place trying to see her. He could feel the panic beginning to grow. His music box tightened, and his insides began to tick in nervousness as he thought of the worst. Then, in an instant, he appeared inside the master bedroom.

"Mike!" Marionette grabbed Mike's shoulder and shook him in a frenzy. "Mike, get up! Charlie's gone!"

"What?" Mike asked groggily as he started to waken. He roused faster and started to sit upright. "What? What's going on? Where's Charlie?"

"She's gone!" the Puppet exclaimed as he finally released the human. "She went out the window! I went outside, but I couldn't see her anywhere! She could be anywhere by now!"

Mike certainly heard this. He flung himself out of bed and fumbled to turn the lamp on. "Please tell me you're kidding," he blurted out, but knew obviously that he wasn't. "Did you see what way she went?!"

"No, I didn't see anything, but I know she went out there. I can't even imagine where she was planning on going," Marionette insisted. He raised a hand to his mask and began to pace in place. "No, that's not true. I suppose the only place she might go would be back to her home, but I don't know when she left. She could still be out on the street for all we know!" He grew only more panicked as he followed Mike out of the bedroom.

"We don't need two animatronics wandering the streets. Go out into the car, I'll drive us over there, and you can keep an eye out on the way. We'll find her; she can't have gone that far," Mike said, taking charge as he slipped on his shoes. His jacket was still damp, so he decided to forego wearing it. It would be a warm enough night anyway. Especially now since Mike's heart was racing and his adrenaline was pumping. Marionette teleported into the car and Mike locked the door before following into the car. "You made sure she wasn't in the closet, right?"

"Yes, before I noticed the window and the indentions in the mud… She can't even walk. How did she think she was going to get there?" Marionetted asked in disbelief. He didn't ask why, because there were hundreds of obvious reasons why she would. Maybe she was homesick, maybe she needed her things, maybe she just got scared. "She could've just asked us. I would've taken her home."

"You can't walk, and you get around fine," Mike absentmindedly remarked as he turned on the car. He noticed the following silence and looked over to see Marionette shooting him a disapproving look. "Hey, it's true. That wasn't a joke." The Puppet could only assume that it wasn't because Mike was too tired and flustered to think of a punchline. Part of him almost wished that he had, if only to ease the nagging tension. Mike was awake enough to notice the distress. "Mari, we'll find her. She's not in immediate danger and she's smart enough not to get caught. Everything's under control." He then started to back out of the driveway. "It's not like Foxy hasn't done the same thing."

Sadly enough, Mike was right. It was almost comical.

Mable: It makes you wonder… Should we be concerned if Foxy goes jogging daily? Ha, ha… Maybe.
So, uh, next chapter will be next Thursday, and if you'd like to spread word about my book I would be grateful. ^-^ I hope you enjoyed!