Mable: Sorry that this chapter is a day late, but yesterday I was doing editing and realized that there was a massive rewrite needed. As such, I may have missed a few errors, but I checked twice so hopefully that isn't too obvious.
You might remember that I published a book called 'A Fool's Endeavor'. I wanted to mention that if you have Amazon Prime or Kindle Unlimited then you can read it for free! ^-^ I don't remember if I mentioned it last time, but I feel like I should bring it up. Especially since the book is still brand new and I still want to keep chatting about it. XD
Anyway, without further ado: I hope you Enjoy!
Almost Feels Like Home
Chapter Twelve
When Mike had brought Charlie home so long ago- before he had even known Henry's true fate and connection to everything at Freddy's- there had been a woman waiting for her. He had thought that she was Charlie's mother. The girl had walked past the scrutinizing gaze as a child would under a parent, even if the similarities between them were less than the usual direct relative. As they pulled up to the house, Mike had thought of the woman again and worried they would be confronted by Henry's widow, but there were no cars in the driveway and only one light looked to be on inside.
"I'll park and try not to look extremely suspicious. Last thing I need is to be caught outside of Henry's house," Mike said. He looked around and parked in the empty driveway. "No cars… You think her mother would've left?"
"I don't know. When I came to see her after what happened with Goldie, she was alone in the house…" Marionette pointed out. Curiosity started to appear, but he forced it back. It wasn't the time to question such trivial things. "I'm going to look. Wait a moment and then follow me." He quickly teleported to the side of the house and started to circle around the back.
Before he could get to the back of the house, which was his route to Charlie's bedroom, he found a backdoor by the garage. To his surprise the door was left ajar with a single key left in the door. It was as though Charlie was in such a rush that she hadn't even worried about locking the door back. This did confirm that she was here, and Marionette slipped inside. The house was mostly dark and equally unfamiliar as he made his way in the direction of the hall and Charlie's bedroom. The bedroom door was open and from down the hallway he could see a shadow inside. "Charlie?!"
There was the sound of clashing bells, a strange thumping, and suddenly the door slammed shut on him. Marionette rushed to the door and laid his hands on it, but she held her weight on it long enough to lock the door. He could've unlocked it easily but considering that she had purposefully shut him out he felt unable to do so. He simply couldn't let himself in. The whole point of learning to unlock doors was so that he would never get stuck behind one ever again, and still he couldn't do it. Not when she already had a good reason to push him away.
So, Marionette just stood there at the door, dropping his head, and waited for something. This something eventually turned out to be Mike who managed to find his way into the house through the back door.
"Is she in there?" Mike asked as he walked up. Marionette nodded silently. "…Are you going to go in there?" Mike asked again. Marionette shook his head, still just as silent. "Okay…" the human looked at the door, then back to the Puppet. "…Can I go in there? Let me make up for that garbage babbling I was doing earlier. I think I know what to say."
While Marionette was hesitant, he decided that he trusted Mike more than he trusted himself. He unlocked the door and moved quickly back into the shadows of the hallway. The human still knocked before he entered.
"Charlie, I'm coming in," Mike called into the room. There was no response. "I'm taking your silence as a go-ahead." He then opened the door and stepped into the bedroom. He shut it to a crack, but it then shut the rest of the way from Marionette's own influence. Now he was alone in the bedroom with the Security Puppet.
The first thing that took Mike off-guard was that Charlie was capable of standing. Though she wasn't standing well; she was hunched over, legs bent and braced onto the floor carefully, as though she would fall over if she didn't. He couldn't see her mask as she had it angled away from him, so he couldn't tell if it was able to show emotions like Marionette's could. He could still tell that she was distressed. It was obvious from how she was standing there alone, looking like she was about to either fight him or dive through one of the windows, that she was not as calm as he had hoped she would be.
"You could've told me that you wanted to come home. I would've driven you over here," Mike pointed out. He glanced down and noticed the dirt on her legs and knees. "I can only guess how hard it was for you to get all the way here on your own. Not to mention that you could've been spotted… But then again, I'd be a hypocrite calling you out on it and not Mari and Foxy… And don't get me started on the clowns prowling the streets."
He watched as her head dropped and she looked to the floor in what looked like shame. Then she turned and in one awkward sort of half-sit down and half-fall she dropped. She barely caught the foot of the bed before landing on the floor, sitting there, staring towards her closet. The Security Puppet's posture was a defeated one. Her arms hung loose, and her head still drooped, jingling as the point on the back of her head pressed to the bed. He knew that he didn't need to say anything more about the risk; it was obvious that she knew exactly what risks were involved, but she simply seemed unable to care.
The Security Puppet slowly looked to the side and her gaze landed on a rabbit toy that had fallen on the floor, that she had dropped when the Puppet nearly got in. Mike watched as she slowly lifted it in one hand and stared down at it. It was only reminiscent of Marionette's behavior with the Golden Freddy plush, save that it had mechanical pieces jutting out of it. He moved to sit down beside her, and she must have pressed a button on the doll for it proceeded to make a grating static sort of noise. It sounded like an old voice recording.
"That your rabbit?" Mike asked. He realized it was almost patronizing and changed his tune. "Kind of sounds like… I guess it's Henry's voice, isn't it?" He was going to say Golden Freddy but cut off to avoid the unsettling realization that Henry had a bad habit of talking through dolls to children. Apparently, it was an effective strategy. "Mari's got one like this, except its got a mouth like a nutcracker and a taste for finger flesh." There was a slight jingle from Charlie.
And then she did something he hadn't expected her to do: she spoke.
"He g-ve… im to… me," Charlie managed to force out. Her voice sounded the same as a human but was full of static and other interference. The fact that she was talking so quickly surprised Mike. "W-s my ch-dhood fr-nd."
"I bet he was great." Mike had no idea what that comment meant even after he said it. "You got more of them?"
With a nod, Charlie pointed to the closet. She made no effort to approach, so Mike opened the closet instead. Inside was a short, porcelain looking doll with a puffy dress and a slightly cracked face.
"-Name's Ell-…She w-s… playm-te," Charlie explained. There was a moment where it seemed like she was going to brighten up a bit. She looked fondly at Ella and down to Theodore, but then her gaze fell upon her own, black fingers wrapped around the broken toy. She shuddered inwardly and spoke her words haltingly so that they would all come through.
"I'm. Like. These. Broken. Toys," Charlie slowly forced out. "It's. Over. It's -ll -ver."
"Don't say that," Mike interrupted. His voice softened from his much more neutral one as he knelt on the carpet in front of her.
"-'ve lost ev-rrrything," the girl vented. She looked down at herself, at her legs, and then brought her fists down on the carpet beside her in a flair of frustration. "I w-sn't supposed to bec-bec-become this! I-I'm. Broken. Broken. Toy!" She grabbed at herself around the middle and hunched over, her prong jingling again behind her as she did so. Just hearing it made her want to tear the bell off, but she knew it would do nothing for the ones inside of her. For a moment she sat there, twitching, and only now realized that Mike was still watching. She pulled her legs in against her chest. "I'm fine... I'm fine."
"You don't have to be fine," Mike assured as he laid a hand on her shoulder. "I know this isn't what you wanted. None of us wanted this. Not Mari, not me, certainly not your dad; nobody wanted it to get to this…But it did, and now we're going to handle it." She looked to him hesitantly and he took this as the signal to continue. "I can't give you a normal human life back… But you can still have a good life. You can still have a life."
"I do-on't w-nt to be a sing-ing-ing mach-ne…" Charlie murmured lowly. "But all th-se b-lls..." She shuddered at the thought of just being a doll to perform on a stage. Just like the dolls left abandoned in her closet; a tool to be taken apart and put back together at will. No longer human, no longer safe, and capable of falling into any hands.
"What did you think, that we were just expecting you to hop aboard and become a stage show? Charlie, no. We wouldn't do that. Mari would never do that. He cares about you, and he knows better than I do what it's like to get strung into a bad situation. You're still human even with a different body." He squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. "The only reason we even took you home without waiting for you to wake up was because we couldn't leave you behind at the theater. Who knows what is going to happen over there now that everything's gone down."
Charlie felt a tinge of hope for the first time that night. The thoughts of becoming a falling apart animatronic left to rot away in a pizzeria was unbearable. There was a relief in the promise that she wouldn't be forced into a restaurant; it didn't fix everything, but it helped. As did the assurance that she wasn't going to be abandoned to her own devices. She both lamented her loss of independence and clung onto the idea of getting help from someone else. She needed help. Especially- she looked down at her hands again- if she was to be stuck in this body. It was one thing assuring herself that she would press on, but it was another thing doing it.
"I'm not going to tell you not to tell your mother. I've pretty much let too many people know, so one more might not kill us… Especially if it's your mom. I doubt she'd risk you in telling someone," Mike offered. "And if she did, everyone would just assume she's a hysterical mother." Really, Mike didn't want anyone else knowing, but telling her not to outright would only make her feel worse. "…Just don't tell her we hung out here in the middle of the night or she might get the wrong idea."
"My mother's gone f-r ye-rs," Charlie explained almost nonchalantly. Her voice seemed to be slowly leveling out as her emotions did. "My -nt doe-n't stay here -nymore."
"Well, you can call her if you want. I don't discriminate." He knew he was stepping into dysfunctional family territory; he recognized the signs already. It seemed best to just step right back out. "The eventual point was going to be that we want you to come home with us. We can even grab your stuff while we're here."
"Do I need it?" Charlie asked quietly.
"Sure. Maybe we can find you another jacket in case you feel like prowling the suburbs at night." Mike looked down at the green jacket that Charlie was currently wearing over her new body. Other than the sleeves now being too short and fitting a little strange, it seemed to work well enough. She tried to tug them down absentmindedly as he stood. "Just point me in a direction and I'll do the heavy lifting. That's what I'm here for."
He started to look around the room and eventually spotted a backpack in the corner. Inside there were a few text books but room for other things to fit in as well. He then began to just take random stuff off the desk and put whatever he had into the backpack. All the while he decided to continue the small talk, "So… You were in college, right?" He could tell she was nodding from the jingling alone. "What were you studying?"
"Ye-, robo-tics," Charlie admitted. She learned that keeping her answers short kept her voice intact. "F-mily business."
"Really? Great. I went to the one up north before I dropped out to pursue my lifelong dream of financial ruin. Opening the pizzeria is just a side project while I prepare for my next lengthy hospital stay." He then turned his attention back to her and the toy she had been clutching, which now sat prone in her lap. "How about the rabbit?"
Charlie side-glanced at the doll. Once a childhood companion bubbling with her father's comforting voice, then a vessel of never-ending nostalgia, and now a mocking reminder that she and him were nearly the same. The same gears inside of him could be inside of her, especially since Henry might have made both. She could even hear something like a speaker vibrating in her chest every time she 'jingled', and speaking had become some sort of unreliable reliance on thought instead of actual movements. He would be a reminder of this transformation, and yet holding his weight was also a surreal comfort. With a low jingling, she handed it over to Mike.
He fit it into the bag and then looked to the closet. "How about her? I'd probably have to throw her in the trunk, but she should be fine." He knelt beside her and looked over her and his eyes landed on her feet. "Was she on a track?... I'm not exactly a technician, but I might be able to get her working again." He touched her porcelain cheek and all at once the entire face dropped off like a mask, revealing metal and stuffing staring from underneath. Without a word, Mike raised his hands, took one step back, and turned away. "There's no way in hell-."
"My -lbum. I need- need my- need it," Charlie said as she started to lift herself. She leaned back on the bed as she tried to balance on unsteady legs once more. She then pointed to the desk, "Top dr-wer."
"Got it." The photo album was right on the top and looked to be at least ten or so years old. He carried it in his arm because of how full the backpack was, throwing it over his shoulder. "Ready to go?"
The Security Puppet sent a longing look over the room. This, again, wasn't home. It was just supposed to be a brief stop in her life: the house was supposed to be sold and the past was supposed to be erased for good. Then she learned about Foxy's, then her father, then the theater, and now she was like this. A voice in the back of her head mockingly reminded her how desperately everyone had tried to get her to return to school, to get away from the memories, and now…
The cold sensation on her face alerted her that she was crying again. "Not now… Not in front of them." She knew he was still staring at her, so she made no attempt to straighten from her hunched position. Unfortunately, the tears didn't stop like she hoped. Blue paint dripped onto the comforter where it would surely stain. It wasn't her problem any longer. It started dripping faster.
At first, Mike didn't realize what was happening. He noticed how she was hunched over but didn't realize she was crying until he leaned enough to notice the dripping paint. "Ah geez… Round two and I'm completely out of my league." He didn't want to just leave her crying and stepped closer. "Charlie-."
Charlie cut him off with a noise of strange, strained jingling. Almost in a rush, she started to push herself off the bed and ground, and tried to regain her footing, attempting to force back the emotion. Though she couldn't even out her voice and had to rely on forcing it out in any tone she could. "I'm okay. I can… I'll hann-dle it."
She yanked the door open and nearly threw herself out. It was mostly bad timing that ended with her falling directly into Marionette. Though even this was fortunate, as she would've elsewise collapsed to the carpet. The Puppet caught her and helped her back to her feet, or to her legs. He then braced her, hands resting on her shoulders, and briefly glanced over her. It was so odd to him that she was even capable of walking when she couldn't even levitate; her determination was a powerful thing. He gave a sympathetic peal as he looked back to her face.
Marionette wanted to comfort her, he wanted to help, but he stayed at bay and waited for a signal to give it. Eventually, she did manage to look at him and made no attempt to draw aback. She was waiting for something. Most likely for him to say something, but he wasn't sure what he could say after Mike's own words. He slowly moved in and wrapped his arms around her in a reassuring embrace. To his surprise, her head dropped onto his shoulder. He wasn't sure if it was accepting the comfort or due to exhaustion, but he took it as a good sign.
He smiled past her at Mike and the human could tell that he was thrilled by that much. It was a start at least. The Puppet hugged on tighter, trilling lightly as he turned his mask against her, and Mike finally stepped in.
"Alright, let's get moving before someone spontaneously spots us and calls the cops for trespassing." Mike moved to Charlie's opposite side and offered her his arm. She willingly took his assistance with a silent nod. "You've got the key?" She hesitated a moment, then retrieved it from her jacket pocket. It felt so odd to only have a single key left. She didn't even know where her car keys were anymore and yet still handed over the last key without much delay.
Once outside, Mike relocked the back door while Marionette held Charlie upright, hands now permanently cemented to her shoulders. He couldn't help but notice the dirt that was still slightly smeared on her legs and the last thing he wanted was her to fall over and collect more stains. He glanced back towards Mike and watched him drop the key into the backpack once more. They exchanged a brief look where Mike sent Marionette a slight shrug, as though explaining why he was bringing the key, and Marionette sent back a weary smile. What a long night.
Charlie willingly got into the backseat and promptly slumped onto it as though spontaneously losing sentience. The only thing propping her up was the backpack, which she draped her arm over. Mike turned on the ignition and exhaled in relief. "That went better than expected…" He glanced over at the Puppet in the passenger seat and noticed that he was watching him, propping his head up with his arm resting on the door. It was clear that even though it all turned out well he was still concerned. Probably exhausted too. Mike felt the need to say something poignant.
"Any more houses you feel like breaking into?"
By time they arrived at the house, any buzz from adrenaline was starting to wear off and Mike was beginning to feel the effects of running around in the early hours of the morning. Not to mention that he was still carrying almost everything. He had to set the photo album down just to lock the door back before helping Marionette with Charlie. She was determined to walk even with the assistance; he had to admit, it was impressive to see such resilience from someone. He dropped the bookbag on the floor beside the bed as Charlie released his arm to sit down on the bed.
"You don't have to stay in here if you're not ready," Marionette assured her, keeping a hand on her shoulder even when she was no longer leaning on him. "I don't want you to feel like you're stuck in this room."
"Need sleep. I'm go-ng to be okay," Charlie reassured. This time it wasn't just passiveness to get herself alone. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so worn out, and it didn't matter that she was no longer a human on that front. She slid further back on the bed. "I'm not going -nyw-ere else."
"Would you like us to stay until you fall asleep at least?" Marionette offered kindly. Charlie wasn't even sure how to react to a question like that. Thankfully, Mike did.
"Mari, if we stand here and stare at her then she's never going to sleep again. That's where friendliness starts crossing that thin border into creepiness." Mike reached to take his arm and guide him out. "I'll probably still be awake at sunrise, so if you need anything you know where I am. And he doesn't ever sleep," Mike said back to Charlie as he guided the Puppet out. The other puppet nodded in understanding before watching the door close.
While everything was still as confusing as earlier, Charlie did feel at least a bit more comfortable in this new situation. She was exhausted, but she knew she wasn't trapped. She was no longer human, but she would maybe adjust to this. As for Mike and Marionette they were certainly odd, especially in how they spoke to one another even though there was the human and non-human barrier, but they did feel trustworthy. They certainly did seem to care, though Charlie couldn't really tell why they did. It could've been guilt or obligation and they still gave off the impression that they genuinely sympathized.
Yet Charlie didn't feel safe. She felt vulnerable lying on the bed. Perhaps because she wasn't covered up, but she had a feeling that getting trapped under a blanket wouldn't help this sensation. She realized what she needed and reluctantly pushed herself back up. Her eyes aimed at her pack before she leaned down and reached inside, and soon tugged Theodore out. It made her feel like a weakened child; she needed him where she was going. She also grabbed one of the pillows before rising to her weakened legs and managing the few awkward steps until she could open the door.
With little more than a small ringing from the bell hanging behind her head, Charlie stepped back into the closet and closed the door behind her. Maybe now she would rest comfortably.
Out in the living room, Marionette spotted the photo album left on the back of the couch and looked down at it curiously. "Did you mean to leave this out here?" he asked as he rested his fingers on the edge of the cover.
"No, I just had my hands full. I'll take it in to her tomorrow," Mike answered as he collapsed on the couch. "I hope I can get back to sleep. This in not the night I want to get four hours of sleep."
"Then go to sleep," Marionette pointed out with an amused chime. Though that musical laugh cut off quickly as his interest got the best of him and he flipped open the album. He focused on the first page of photos. If he would've had blood it would've run cold, and he nearly shivered at the people in the photos. He then looked past at the security guard on the couch. "Mike… Have you ever seen any pictures of Henry?"
"I think I have." Mike wasn't entirely certain and wasn't awake enough to remember. He watched as Marionette circled the couch and moved his legs so that his companion could sit down on it. The Puppet then slid closer and showed him the page of pictures. The interest started to grow as he saw the man in the book, and Mike took ahold of half of the album. "I'm guessing that's him?" he asked. Of course it was. All the pictures were of Henry with his wife and children, save a few with other family members near the bottom. The first picture that Mike locked onto looked like the basic family photo of Henry, his wife, and two toddlers.
"That was him, which would mean that the little girl is Charlie… I sort of recognize her, now that I'm looking at it. I don't ever recall seeing his wife though."
"I don't recall you mentioning Henry having a son either," Mike pointed out as he tapped over the boy. He looked a bit like Charlie in age and their clothes seemed to be styled after one another.
"That's Henry's son, Charlie's brother… I wouldn't mention him around her. I don't know how she feels on the subject, but I do know that he was one of the first missing children," Marionette explained. He couldn't help but be the slightest bit unsettled by remarking on it. "Goldie mentioned it once, but I never put together his connection with Henry. If anything, I suppose I would've more readily believed that Goldie was him. How blind I was!" He gave a forced, dry chuckle with no chiming.
"Did they work together after he suspected that?" Mike bluntly asked. He wasn't even thinking and let it slip out as he laid back against the back of the couch.
"I… Well, I guess so. My timeline is a bit shaky, but he must've had to, for Henry and William were good partners until something happened. I suppose it must've been his son disappearing."
"Henry never ceases to amaze me," the man muttered quietly. Just quiet enough that Charlie couldn't overhear and loud enough that Marionette could. "If I even had a hunch Fritz took my kid, I'd fillet him with a pizza roller."
"Oh, how charming! And positively creative- my goodness, Mr. Schmidt, you would make an excellent executioner," Marionette teased playfully. "Any other punishments in mind? Electrocution? Lock him in a walk-in freezer?"
"Have him eat something we find out of the back of our fridge. Guaranteed to decompose him even before he's dead; two birds with one stone," Mike said with a scoff. He then watched as the Puppet turned the page. He considered mentioning that they were invading Charlie's privacy, but his focus waned, and an eyebrow shot up as he noticed what looked to be half of a picture. It had been carefully cut down the middle, so one could still see Henry standing and smiling in front of what looked like Fredbear's Family Diner. It became very clear that someone else had been cut out of the picture.
Either Marionette had no comment or decided to simply ignore the photo. He instead moved on and looked through the rest. "I don't remember ever going to their barbeques- I was too young to remember- but Henry's wife was an amazing baker. I've never been able to make brownies like her. When he brought them to the restaurant, that is." Mike gave a non-descript hum, showing that he was listening, and slightly leaned on the Puppet's shoulder. "…Sometimes I wonder if Henry treated me kindly back then because he lost his son. I hope that's how it started…" Because Marionette knew that wasn't how it ended.
He flipped a few pages and found more recent photos. Charlie looked to be under ten, but he couldn't guess how far. Henry was in the photo, so he was still alive, but even though their smiles he could see that both him and his wife looked exhausted. As though the life had just been sapped out of them. He didn't want to look any further and slowly closed the book on his lap.
"…You know, Mike, there's a photo album in the cabinet above the dryer. I can't remember the last time I looked at it, but maybe… Mike?" He noticed something was odd when Mike didn't immediately respond and glanced at him. "Mike?" From the way the man suddenly straightened it was clear that he had started to fall asleep. Marionette literally and figuratively set the photos aside with a light trill of mirth. "Mike, go to bed. You're exhausted."
Mike didn't even argue. He stood from the couch, muttering something about kicking his coffee habit, and started to head towards the hallway. He sent Marionette a weary, questioning look, in silently asking if he was coming. The striped one set the album on the back of the couch again and followed behind him. Charlie was safe again, the photos could wait, so he would be fine. He wouldn't worry any longer tonight. He wouldn't think of the old photos from the distant past.
Hopefully by morning he would forget the ones in the cabinet.
"What do you mean?! He's here?!" Scott blurted out in shock as he turned from the monitor. "Why haven't you taken him to jail if he's here?!" The faceless police explained that they couldn't prove anything against Dave, so he would be staying right where he was. They couldn't even ask him to leave the pizzeria. This naturally horrified Scott who opened the left door and looked out. "Where is he?!"
As soon as he asked this, Dave walked past the door and continued down the hallway. However, to Scott's horror, he quickly recognized that it was not Dave walking down the hall, but a thin, gaunt William Afton. He choked and shut the door again, then turned around to face the cops.
"That's not Dave! That's William!" Scott pointed. He then shuddered, "He- He was supposed to be dead! If he figures out what I've found out about Baby's Circus World, he's going to kill me!" To his horror, he also realized that William would be able to get his life insurance if he claimed insanity. Then he could reopen Baby's Circus World and take Ennard to go work there. "Is there anything you can do?!"
"Legally, he hasn't done anything yet," one of the cops pointed out. "If he does try to kill you, you can defend yourself, but the legal fees will be so high that you'll have to sell your house."
"I'll take that chance!" Scott knew that if he told William about what he knew, William would try to kill him on the spot, so then he could defend himself and get rid of him once and for all. He stood from his office chair only to collapse back into it again. He looked down and found that he was missing his prosthetic. "Someone stole my leg!" he choked out. "I can't take the office chair into the hallway or I'll be fired! One of you has to carry me!"
"You're never going to believe who popped up on TV."
The Phone Guy's eyes opened suddenly to semi-darkness. Light entered the room from the open bedroom door and cast the slightest glow over the wire being leaning over him. As per usual, Ennard was leaning in much closer than he should've and watched with glowing blue eyes, but the human was too used to it to even react. He blinked back his tiredness and tried to figure out what the animatronic said. "What?"
"I saw that Dave guy. You were right, he was really weird looking! A total creep!" Ennard exclaimed with amusement on his voice. He sounded almost giddy, but what he said struck horror into Scott's mind. It took a moment, but the man then started to sit upwards- as much as he could under Ennard- and reach for the light.
"How did you see Dave?" Scott asked as he turned on the lamp. He looked back to the animatronic with growing panic. "Ennard, please tell me you didn't-!"
"He was on TV, I just said that. Gee, it's almost like you don't listen," Ennard interrupted to calm the panic. He then gave another giggle as his blue eyes fixated on his companion. "I love when you get all riled up over nothing! Probably not good for your body." All at once, Scott felt a wash of relief. He had feared the worst, that the clown had gone after Dave, so this was much preferable. Or it was until he realized exactly what the amalgam had told him.
"He was on TV? What? What did they say?" The panic returned tenfold as he felt around beside the bed for his prosthetic. Ennard watched him scramble for a moment and then nudged his arm with the fake leg itself. The human took it and scrambled to slide it on, fumbling with it until the animatronic reached out intending to assist. He was a second too late as the human managed to get it secured right before he could intervene. He then wobbled onto his feet. "Ennard, what did it say?" he asked again, nearly stumbling over himself. "Someone's dead, aren't they? Is it Mike?"
"Hey, easy! You're going to fall right off your leg," Ennard finally stepped in. He caught his arms around the human to stop him from becoming even more frantic. He then processed what he had said and gave the slightest bit of a chuckle. "That sounds so weird. Falling off your own leg." He then tugged the man with him. "Come on! You'll miss it!" An arm still around the other, he tugged him out into the living room. He had been aware that Mike and Marionette had planned on going to the theater tonight, so he was especially uneased. Once in the living room, Scott saw the newscast talking about theater and pictures of Dave and four children on the screen.
"He really did do it… Oh dear God, he killed them…" Scott pulled away from Ennard and wandered to the television. He swallowed thickly and grabbed at his own arms. "All those kids…"
"The kids are fine," Ennard said bluntly. "Dave's dead."
Scott didn't really have a moment to process the relief before he was brought back down by that second reveal. Dave was dead, he wasn't a threat, he couldn't hurt anyone, and he couldn't become another William… But what killed him? Scott turned slowly and looked back at the clown who was now caught in the shadows of the man standing before him. His eyes no longer glowed, and the darkness almost seemed to cling to him. A growing look of uneasiness spread across the human's face as suspicion started to rise. Ennard just continued to watch back. His blue eyes twitched; he was starting to recognize that look of dread.
"Uh…" Scott began uncomfortably. "You wouldn't have… I know you didn't, but you wouldn't have…?" He was cut off by a crackle of amusement, which only made Scott more uneasy.
"Scott, do ya think if I did it that I'd tell you about it?! Ha ha, you're already jumpy as it is!" Ennard answered in what was a clear 'no'. Or almost a no. No, he didn't do it, and that made Scott feel better. The clown quieted his laughter down slightly, "Why? You don't even like Dave! Look at him; I've only seen him for a couple of minutes and I don't like him! You're gonna sleep better knowing he's gone."
"That's not true. I- I'm glad the kids are safe, and he's caught, yes, but I wouldn't wish death on anyone," Scott denied quickly.
"Aww, come on, Scott. You don't have to lie on my account. I felt how fast your pulse dropped after I said he was dead- and you were thinking I did it! Must've been pretty relieved," Ennard continued. It was almost like he was fishing for something, and unlike his usual efforts this time they were much more direct. The man hadn't realized that the animatronic could listen in on his heartbeat either. There were simply some reflexes that he couldn't control, and they would always give him away. "You didn't like Dave!"
"Of course I didn't like Dave," Scott defended. He felt the need to do so considering his longstanding role as keeper of Freddy Fazbear's many secrets. "And even if I could tolerate Dave, I couldn't now, knowing what he did to those kids."
"But we knew he was doing it," Ennard pointed out innocently. He gave the slightest bit of a shrug, "but ya did protect him."
Scott decided to completely ignore the argument that suspicion didn't justify such rash action- knowing Ennard's own feelings he doubted he could convince him- and he focused on the second point with an exasperated exhale. "When did I ever protect Dave? I haven't even seen Dave. This is the first time I've seen him in years." He looked back to the picture and nearly cringed. "And he looks a lot worse than I remember."
"You protected him from me." All the humor and the laughter dried up. His tone and volume had lowered, the static edged in, and his voice became a hollow mimic. Ennard stopped pretending all at once. "You wouldn't tell me where he was."
Scott looked back to him in shock. Ennard didn't air grievances. He let them hide away behind a cheery exterior until the mask simply wasn't enough anymore. There was still plenty that he was not saying, and Scott knew that, but he didn't know how to respond to it. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt. Perhaps he had inadvertently protected Dave, but it was ultimately to protect both himself and Ennard. He did care about the children and he would've stepped in if someone else hadn't, but he didn't know if he would've been willing to risk everything they had by letting the clown look for him.
Then it finally happened. Ennard's voice changed to his true one, his broken, distraught one, and revealed what was really behind all of this. "You-rre still afrraid of me-e…"
"Ennard, no," Scott easily denied. "It's not- It's not you. Or it is you, but it's not that. I'm afraid for you. I don't want anything to happen to you." But Ennard's stillness and continued distance- usually he stood closer than this- showed that the words weren't reaching their mark as easily as the human had hoped. So, he took the next step, literally, and moved in. It was the easiest way to show he wasn't afraid. Even if he was afraid of what Ennard would do, it wasn't what the clown would do to him. He knew if they were in this house together that they were safe; it was the outside world that frightened him.
"Do you know what would happen if someone found out about you? Let along if someone- if someone found out that you killed someone, even if it was a guy like Dave? They wouldn't take you away and sell you, they wouldn't try to put you in a warehouse, they would kill you! And… And I wouldn't put it past them to try any way that they could… And they'd get to heat eventually." He noticed the slightest shudder in the wires and Ennard broke their gaze to look away. He didn't tend to do that; it was usually the human who would need to break their gaze. Unless there was something else, like guilt, like the knowledge he made the wrong choice.
"Ennard…" Scott exhaled and reached out for him. First one hand on his shoulder, then the other on his opposite arm, taking in the chilled but not cold wires. They reflexively moved and shifted underneath his fingers and reacted to the touch. He took the rest of the initiative and leaned in to slowly embrace the animatronic. He could hear the breathy sigh of contentment that signaled Ennard calming down. It wasn't long before Ennard returned the gesture and clung to him in his typical fashion. His wires tightened in a needy sort of way, a way that the human was familiar with when he was upset.
"I just want to keep you safe," Scott finished, and it was the truth. It had been a long week of worrying about things he couldn't fix. He was helpless in every aspect, save keeping the amalgam from doing anything risky. He could hear the low lull of the television and dulled voices but couldn't make out what they were saying. Maybe that was for the best. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know the details.
"Scott…" Ennard murmured out lowly.
"Yeah?" Scott asked. Ennard hung on that word for a moment. He squeezed the human tighter against him and pressed his mask into his hair. There was the dullest squeak, but Scott was too distracted by how peculiar he was still acting. Usually Ennard would go back into character by now. He waited for him to say something more, and eventually he did.
"I would have."
The Phone Guy felt that chill return. Not because of Ennard's reveal, even though it was cryptic, but because for a split-second Scott swore that his broken voice evened out. For a single sentence, he almost sounded human. He almost sounded like William… But Scott knew he couldn't rely on his own judgement. Everyone who was the slightest bit risky became William in his eyes eventually. He was the dark force that loomed in his dreams. He was the reason that he couldn't trust Dave, or Mike originally, or really anyone else. Except for Ennard. He trusted Ennard because he was honest, because he wasn't the monster that William was.
"I know…" Scott decided to be honest as he tightened his fingers in the wires. "I would have too."
Mable: For clarification so that nobody's confused. The scene with Scott and Ennard does take place the night of the Magictime Theater Fiasco (official name now, ha ha.) Anyway, the next chapter should arrive on Thursday as expected. I hope you enjoyed!