Mable: A new year and a new chapter! Here's hoping everyone had a good holiday and that they Enjoy!

Almost Feels Like Home

Chapter Thirty-One

Marionette had to say something. They were still on the way to the Pizzeria and Foxy had been staring him down the entire time. The Puppet was slumped against the back of the driver's seat, largely so that Mike, who was driving, couldn't stare him down too. There were obviously still questions and he was attempting to carefully avoid them, lest he risk someone trying to tear him open in the back of the van. His goal was just to get home and hopefully the music box would repair itself just like his mask did, but to do that he needed a distraction, so he had to say something.

"I think the show went well!" Marionette finally quipped. He was too uneasy to chirp, thankfully, as it would probably have hurt more than it was worth. Foxy was just watching him without agreeing. "I don't usually do solos. You know, since we'll be having more children and more shows from now on, perhaps we should start taking turns on stage. I could sing so that you could get a short break."

"Sounds great, lad," Foxy agreed flatly. "What was that pop in yer belly?"

Of course, he jumped right back to the damage. Jeremy was now looking back too, seemingly unaware of what they were talking about but catching on quick. Marionette concocted an excuse on the fly.

"I think my comb just got stuck for a moment and made a loud pop when snapping back into place. Nothing too worrisome," he assured as he slouched further against the back of the seat. "All I need is a little rest, and what better day to do it?"

"Uh huh. Yeah. Sounds good," Foxy agreed, still flat and unconvinced. "When's the last time yer box popped that loud?" Before he could answer, the older interrupted and added, "And while yer on that, when's the last time ya got this tired comin' off a stage?" He was watching as his younger brother was nearly sliding to the floor limply. Not even during their most trying battles did Marionette come out looking like this. "Ya look cracked and ya ain't."

"Don't say that, Foxy. I assure you-." Perhaps he got a bit too defensive and excitable as he felt the painful scrape inside and shivered. "I-I… I assure you that I just need rest. I've overworked myself."

"I warned ya 'bout that," Foxy pointed out as he turned to look out the windshield. Marionette was relieved to have his gaze off him and closed his eyes, relaxing his body further. The pain eased slightly, and the gnawing became less obvious when he stayed as still as he could. He felt exhausted in a way that wasn't typical to a normal performance. Foxy gave a tired sigh, "All this workin' just been pushin' us too hard. Maybe if we got a bigger arcade-." It was now that he looked back and saw the Puppet's current state and reignited. "See! There ya go! Yer lookin' even worse!"

Marionette shot upwards and winced. He hoped Foxy didn't notice how he wrapped his arms around his torso and disguised it as crossing them. "I'm just tired, Foxy. If anything's wrong with me, it'll go away with rest." Foxy looked like he was about to keep pressing, but it was then that Mike spoke up.

"Lay off him, Foxy. It's Christmas, and if he says he needs rest then he deserves it today of all days," he defended. Foxy send him a look like he was about to protest, pointing out how obvious the other animatronic was acting, but then said nothing. Marionette couldn't see the look that Mike had sent back. It was the look of someone who understood something was amiss and clearly intended to get to the bottom of it himself. It was the silent assurance that he would figure it out. That was the only reason that Foxy even considered letting it go. The rest of the short ride was uneasily silent.

Once at Foxy's, Mike and Jeremy got out of the van, and during this Foxy decided to speak again. "I'm goin' back with Jer'my tonight. If ya need me then call me over there… If I'm still standin' after his lil bots chew my legs apart." He chuckled lightly, and Marionette smiled without a sound. It felt uncomfortably quiet and the pirate rubbed at the back of his head. He gave an exhale of defeat and moved in closer, still crouched down as though he was about to exit out the back of the van. Instead of leaving, he leaned in and wrapped a careful arm around his younger sibling.

"Ya did good today, Marion. Wouldn't have been able to do it without ya, ya know. Keep 'memberin' that," Foxy assured. "…An' if somethin' is wrong, ya can always tell me. Call me and I'll be there faster than the northern current." He briefly rested his head on Marionette's. While the pain was still there, the Puppet gladly accepted the affection, and pressed back weakly. He even considered voicing his fears to Foxy. If anyone would understand it would be him.

Alas, he lost his nerve as soon as the van's doors opened. Mike gave a playful smirk at the scene. "Aww, that's cute. Now if only you got this friendly on stage." This got a flat look from Foxy and Marionette gave a vocal chuckle. The two separated and the Puppet exited the back of the van. Usually he would just teleport to the van, but this time he simply knelt beside the security guard.

"I'm rather tired, Mike. Would you mind?" he offered, reaching out his arms. Mike didn't even question it- out loud- and carefully took the Puppet into his grasp. This got a scoff out of Foxy.

"Makes a big deal 'bout me huggin' me own brother then hoists him up and carries 'em over the threshold," he remarked to Jeremy who got into the driver's side. "Let's shove off, Lad! There still be time to save Christmas!"

"Foxy, any Christmas with you is a perfect Christmas to me," Mike heard Jeremy say. Before he closed the back door he heard him discreetly add in, "As long as we don't get stuck watching Freddy's Christmas Bash."

"Ya better believe we are, Matey."

Mike retreated as quickly as he could, lest he risk Jeremy trying to invite them too. He set Marionette down in the backseat carefully before shirking off his uniform jacket and placing it over him. The Puppet warbled before he could think about it and was shocked with stinging through his chest. He flinched and made a distorted crackle, and unfortunately Mike saw it. The embarrassment was immediate, and he expected the human to call him out on it. Instead, Mike looked at him a few seconds before tucking the jacket around him.

"Just sit tight and I'll get us home," Mike assured. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to his porcelain forehead. Marionette made sure not to make any other reluctant noises and instead showed his appreciation and affection by squeezing his wrist. Once he pulled away, the animatronic turned and slumped into the seat. For a few minutes he fell into a fistful sleep and only woke when the car shut off.

"Alright, we're here," Mike announced as he looked in the backseat. He could tell how exhausted the striped one was. "…Let me carry you in. If Charlie asks, we'll just give her a flimsy excuse… Like that you're 'just tired'." His voice grew flat as he revealed his true feelings. Though that wasn't what immediately but Marionette on edge. Instead, it was the prospect of having Charlie see him weakened. He had to try to teleport inside. It couldn't hurt that bad or take that much energy. "Mari?" Mike noticed the distant look. "…Come on, don't risk it."

"I can make it inside," Marionette reassured. Before Mike could even try to rationalize with him, the Puppet took the plunge and teleported into the house. The pain and exhaustion was immediate. As soon as Marionette appeared inside, he dropped from hovering onto his unsteady legs. He kept himself from immediately crumbling by falling to the side onto the back of one of the dining room chairs. His chest tightened, he struggled to keep himself upright, and as though it couldn't get worse, he looked up to see Charlie standing in the kitchen watching him. He had to recover immediately.

"…Looks like I came in a little hot. Either that or my aim's getting much worse," Marionette playfully remarked. He chuckled, a off-tune chime made it through, he made a guttural rattling noise, and then nearly collapsed onto the dining room chair. His head dropped on his folded arms and he laid there while Charlie looked down at him. Then he slowly turned his head, showing his usual, friendly smile. "So, what have you been up to?"

Charlie wasn't exactly sure how to react to any of this, but decided to continue with a typical conversation, suspecting that she would figure out what was going on in time. "I saw you had gingerbread cookie mix and made a batch. They were supposed to be a surprise, but they're not cooperating. Or the oven isn't. One or the other isn't getting with the program." Instead of a chime, Marionette again made that strange rattling noise. She noticed briefly that his mask changed, getting a brief look like a grimace before returning to a smile. His hands even seemed to tighten as though in distress.

"That's a great idea. Usually I make them the night before, but I was so distracted that I didn't get a chance," Marionette explained. His voice sounded normal and his body language screamed exhaustion. "There's a few different bags for icing with in the pantry beside the icing. That will take a lot of the strain out of icing."

"And will make the decorating look a lot nicer. Thanks… Is everything okay?" Charlie leaned over the table and looked down with confusion and concern. "Rough show?"

"Actually-." Marionette cut off as the front door opened and Mike let himself inside. The security guard caught sight of the slumped Puppet as he was removing his coat, and Marionette pushed himself upright from the table. Though he was still barely propped upright, holding his head up with his hands as he tried to ignore the painful scraping and dragging on the inside. "Actually, the show went well! A success full of music, questionable jokes, and Christmas cheer. It went much better than I thought… It was just more tiring than I expected."

Charlie looked up at Mike to verify and it was his doubtful look back that convinced her that Marionette wasn't being honest. Silently, Mike reached out and patted the Puppet on the back. The animatronic turned and sent him the smile but gave no trills or warbles as in his typical fashion. It was then when the oven alarm went off and Charlie headed over to take the cookies out. She gave an impatient huff once the tray was sitting on the stove and she could see the cookies.

"They still don't look done. I don't understand, I baked them longer than it said," Charlie remarked with slight irritation. Mike looked down at Marionette's back, expecting the Puppet to spring up and attempt to help. He didn't even try.

"Sometimes you have to turn the oven up an extra five degrees," he volunteered in a rather lethargic way. Mike couldn't bear to watch it and instead headed to the oven.

"Here, let me take a look," he offered. Charlie scooted to the side and he glance them over. Then he boldly poked at the edge of one, lightly enough that he wasn't burned. "They're good. Just leave them out and they'll firm up in about five or ten minutes. Any longer and they'll turn into doorstops." He went and grabbed a few tubs of vanilla icing and an icing bag. By time he was walking back, only a few minutes later, he realized that Marionette was now laying his head on his folded arms again, as though he was sleeping. Mike was only more suspicious. "And I think we lost him."

Charlie looked back at the Puppet in concern before asking, "Did something happen?"

"I don't know. It sounded like a loud pop," Mike admitted. He stuck one of the icing containers in the microwave to heat and soften the mixture inside. "He wouldn't talk with Foxy demanding answers."

"He's actually asleep, isn't he? That quick," Charlie remarked as she watched Marionette. He wasn't reacting to their talking at all. It was possible he was awake, but that would be just as worrying. "Did you hear the rattling?" she whispered.

"…A little, but not really. Why? What did you hear?" Mike asked, looking to her. There was an odd moment where she stared back, revealing the obvious mistake. "…The rattling, right. I'm up to speed now."

"Sounds like he's not the only one whose a little rattled." It was worded like a joke but was obviously more than that. There were some things she had come used to and one of those was that even if she didn't know something that Marionette did, then Mike would. It made her less paranoid to know that there wasn't something slipping under both of them, because as honest as Marionette was, he did seem to try to shield her specifically. If Mike didn't know then she was concerned.

As was Mike. He wasn't completely oblivious; he had figured out immediately after coming off the stage that something went wrong. He didn't want to imagine something being broken, but from the sound and the behavior that seemed to be the only option. He wasn't going to stand aside while the Puppet tried to hide an injury, he would directly address him after he rested. There was a slim chance that Marionette was telling the truth and that he just strained something. How one would strain a music box was beyond Mike, but considering the circumstances it was possible.

He couldn't dwell on it now unless he intended to rouse the striped one and deal with it now, which he didn't. He took Marionette's usual example and used the baking as a distraction.

"Think they're cool enough to start icing?" Mike asked as he pulled the container out of the microwave. He began to open it and used an icing spatula to scoop it into an icing bag even as she was checking them.

"…To be honest, not really," Charlie admitted with an awkward smile.

"…Eh, let's go for it anyway. Worst case scenario, everything melts, and we pretend it was on purpose," he quipped, regaining his own smile. A distraction seemed like a good thing and they took to icing the cookies. They weren't all gingerbread men; some were shaped like trees, stars, or presents. He didn't know whether to be relieved that she didn't find the Freddy cookie cutters or not. In hindsight, those would've been good to sell at the pizzeria before Christmas. Another thing to add to the list of future work; another thing to divert his attention.

"I can't remember the last time I made cookies. Might've been years," Charlie remarked as she finished up icing the last gingerbread man. "I guess I could've just bought cookie mix but I never even thought about it."

"Same here. I never kept sweets in the house, but then I moved in with Mari and now get that hourly sugar craving. Helps me keep up with the kids." He chose one of the cookies that had its icing muddled- that he refused to admit that he might've sabotaged on purpose- and bit into it. "Except whenever my mom comes to visit. She's a traditionalist: cookies and tacky sweaters all the way."

"She sounds great." It almost took Mike off-guard that Charlie was completely sincere when she said that. It was a comment that could've been turned sarcastic so easily. Then again, Mike knew about her relationship with her mother, or lack of one. Not that he could comment on it. Any comment on a disappearing mother would've been hypocritical from someone who had been a runaway himself.

He decided to quickly change the subject. "Let's hook the game up and try out one of the new ones. You mind getting it all together while I peel him off the table?" he offered and asked. Charlie agreed and headed into the living room to go do so, sending one last look of concern at Marionette. Mike headed to the table and reached for his arm. Marionette shot upwards without much provocation. He then realized what happened.

"How long have I been asleep?" he asked groggily. It wasn't usual to hear it projected in his voice, but there it was.

"About ten minutes," Mike flatly answered. He then exhaled and decided to be honest. "Look, Mari, I'm not stupid. We both know what happened on stage: something snapped, or popped, and you got injured on stage." The Puppet's face betrayed his shame and the human rubbed his arm reassuringly. "Hey, it's okay. These things happen sometimes. I just can't stand here and have you pushing yourself, trying to hide that you're injured. All you'll do is hurt yourself more." He took his hand and sat across from him. "Tell me what we need to do."

There was a long period of nearly complete silence, save the sound of Charlie fiddling with things in the next room. Mike's eyes stayed trained on Marionette as he tried to figure out whether he was going to answer or trying to be defiant. The Puppet knew he was had by the strings and that, mixed with the fact that he actually did need help, caused him to finally come clean. He couldn't keep trying to handle this alone.

"Every time I've cracked my mask it has sealed on its own. The worse the crack, the longer it takes, but it always fixes itself… I'm not sure if the parts inside of me work the same way. I've never had something like this happen before," Marionette admitted. He kept himself upright as he laced his fingers together and stared down at his hands. He never thought he would have to worry about what was inside of him. "I was hoping that it would fix itself on its own. It might still do that, I might very well just need rest to repair myself… Mike." He looked to his human. "Do you… Think this happened because my body wasn't made for this amount of performing? That I just burned out?"

"Mari, parts break. Bones break, intricate metal cogs break, music boxes break; you've got to keep in mind that you put yourself through a lot more than just performing. Eventually something was going to give. This was just bad timing, probably fueled by how much you've had to be on recently." Even saying this, Mike himself didn't know if he felt any better about it. "So, the plan is to wait and see if it fixes itself?" The animatronic nodded. "How long would we have to wait with something like this?"

"I can't be too sure, but even when I completely shatter my mask it usually doesn't take more that twelve hours. I expect it should be better by tomorrow morning… But I don't want to miss the rest of Christmas." Marionette straightened further and ignored the lingering soreness. "I don't think slight movement will make it any worse. Let's just try to enjoy the rest of the day and by tomorrow it should have healed itself."

"Sounds like a plan." Not really the best plan, but there weren't many more options. "And if it's not fixed by tomorrow?"

"I'm sure it will be," Marionette insisted, forcing a smile and a more upbeat tone. "More importantly, what's the plan for right now? Unwrapping more gifts or enjoying the ones we already have opened?" He didn't want to think about the pain. Even just focusing on Mike this much helped him ignore the irritation.

"Charlie's hooking up the games now," Mike offered as he stood. He detached their hands only long enough to offer it again and helped Marionette off the chair. The striped one was capable of hovering, but he was slowed considerably and clutched tightly to the other's hand as he forced himself to cooperate. Charlie was already waiting for them and greeted Marionette as though nothing was wrong. He knew she was sparing his feelings and appreciated it, carefully sitting down beside her. Mike put one of the games in and started it up.

It was almost surprising that Mike didn't immediately go for the horror game. He could put on a multiplayer racing game as to hopefully engage and distract the Puppet further. At first it seemed to work like a charm. With the controller in his hands and his eyes on the screen, he neither had to move excessively nor dwell on the soreness. Unfortunately, it seemed to work a little too well. He got a little too excited, getting in the lead in the race, getting a little too amused by Mike swerving into the wall and swearing like he had driven his own car into the wall.

Marionette couldn't help but chime. Not that a chime was what came out, but a loud scraping noise. He shuddered and pressed back against the couch, locking up for a moment and losing focus on the race.

"Mari?" Charlie's worried voice snapped him slightly out of the state. He nearly flung his arm out the give the controller to her. She took it, still looking just as concerned, and took his place in the race. It took him a few moments to come down from the spike of pain and by then the race was wrapping up. There was an awkward silence once again.

"Alright, Mari, let's be honest," Mike remarked, looking to the Puppet. "…You threw the race so I didn't feel like an idiot for riding the wall." There was playfulness past the worry, and he wished he could trill in response.

"Mike, that's not true! You were doing wonderful… Until that wall jumped out in front of you, but that was hardly your fault," Marionette quipped back. He then looked to Charlie. "You take your turn. I think I may sit one out and watch."

It seemed deceptively like he recovered without much issue, but this wasn't entirely the case. It extended beyond the video games. While unwrapping the rest of her gifts, Marionette had gotten a bit too pleased at her delighted reaction, and again the broken noises commenced. Then while watching the Fredbear and Friends Christmas special it happened again, spawned by Mike making an ironic comment. It didn't just happen with pleasant feelings either; sometimes his parts would just spasm without warning and he would have to ride through it and recover quickly.

That didn't even include the exhaustion. His body already felt wrong, but when he wasn't actively doing something it seemed like he simply shut down. He kept falling asleep sporadically. By the third time of rousing slumped on Mike's shoulder he recognized that this was becoming a problem and forced himself to stay awake. Though once it got later in the evening this became more difficult to achieve. The day had slipped through his fingertips.

"I'm taking him to bed." Marionette roused after an especially long period of sleep to hear Mike talking to Charlie. Part of him wanted to protest, but the Puppet somberly realized that it wasn't worth it. It was only ten o'clock and he had run out of all energy. Which might've been a good thing as moving only the slightest bit still caused pain. "Oh hey, I didn't think you were awake," Mike said as he looked down and realized he wasn't sleeping any longer. "It's late. Let's head to bed."

It wasn't late though, not for their normal nights. It was just an excuse to soften the blow. Still, Marionette nodded in agreement, knowing that he wasn't much use in this state. Though he still reacted when Mike leaned down to pick him up.

"Mike, Charlie," Marionette quietly reminded. He couldn't tell, but he was sure that she was watching. Mike seemed less than bothered by it.

"Mari, she knows," he answered. The Puppet got a look of shock and he quirked a brow. "You can barely keep yourself upright. It's kind of obvious something's wrong."

"Oh… Right." Marionette vocalized a chuckle to replace what would've been a forced chime. He reached up for the human and held on as he was lifted securely. "I thought you meant- you know what I thought."

"Yeah, well… She probably knows about that too, but we'll deal with that when you're not hanging on by a thread." He could feel Marionette tremble and eased his grip in case it was from him moving him. He could tell the Puppet was exhausted just from how weakly he held on. As he carried him to the hallway, he could feel erratic ticking against his arm, through the fabric of the animatronics back. Mike had been mistaken earlier; the trembling was always there, and he hadn't noticed it. He could already tell this was going to be a rough night. "Night, Charlie. The Playstation's yours."

"I'd love to, but I probably shouldn't pull an all-nighter on Christmas. That has to be bad luck or something," Charlie answered. She sent a slightly somber smile after them. "Goodnight, Mari." She caught the briefest, flimsiest excuse for a wave and they were soon gone, and she was left alone. She sat there in the living room for a few moments before turning her attention to the television. Something Christmas-related was playing, but she found little interest in it. Maybe she would head to bed too, since all she would do if she stayed awake was worry. And she certainly was worried, if the way she was fiddling with her pendant was any indication.

Charlie turned off the lights and started towards her room, only to stop outside of the door to Marionette's bedroom. He had always said that it was fine if she went inside and after sending one last glance down the hall she did so. It was still weird to have the desire for the box, but considering the circumstances she decided to give in. She turned on the lamp instead of the overhead light and approached the box.

"Hello, Old Friend," Charlie playfully quipped as she opened the lid and started to remove some of the extra dolls inside so that she could fit comfortably. She then started to climb inside and was halfway in when her hand brushed something that felt a little more solid. "What was that?" It would've been easily missed- hidden in the corner underneath a Chica plush- but it stood out as the only one of the toys that wasn't full of cotton. With a sharp tug of its arm, it was pulled free and revealed itself as a Bonnie toy. A thin exterior of fabric hid the mechanism inside and it was covered in numerous patches and stitches.

"A Rabbit? It's just like mine." She was almost dumbfounded by it. Other than the different color, it looked startlingly like her own. It even felt like it had the parts inside to play audio recordings like hers had. Though it looked to be in worse condition than her own- even with the numerous attempts to keep the fabric closed- it didn't rattle when moved or have hollow spots where pieces moved free. Perhaps the inside was more intact than Theodore's. "Maybe its just a lose connection… No, if it was just that then Mari would've fixed it himself. Must be something. Can't be that difficult of a fix."

The Velcro on the back no longer worked and left its opening gaped wide open. Thus, she could look inside and see more of what made the plush tick. It looked like there were a few more things broken, but nothing too difficult to fix.

"…Maybe I could fix this up for Mari. It could take the place of a Christmas gift. Doesn't look like it would take much," Charlie remarked to herself. She wasn't sure if he would move again- or if he ever moved before due to his loose arms- but it was possible that she could at least fix everything else. Maybe she would even have enough time to replace some of the patches and clean him up. "I'll need tools. I wonder if the warehouse-?" Her thoughts were cut off by the realization that it would involve her having to face Baby. "…I'll figure it out tomorrow."

The Security Puppet set the Bonnie doll in the box beside her and closed the lid. She knew what she would be doing tomorrow. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to show that she still had plenty to offer. To her, something so small was going to mean so much more. Part of her couldn't wait for the night to end.

Funny enough, Mike felt the same way. He supposed that was why he woke at eight in the morning on his day off. The night had been a strange one; once or twice he had been partially roused by Marionette fidgeting or crackling in discomfort. At some point he must've put his arm over the Puppet to soothe him as he was holding him close. He was relieved to not feel any ticking, any trembling, or even hear the slightest cracking sound. It almost seemed like a normal morning, as though the injury the day before hadn't happened at all. Maybe it really had healed on its own.

Relieved, Mike pulled Marionette closer to him and pressed into the back of his neck, leaving a light kiss. The animatronic started to rouse and shifted the slightest bit. This only spurred the man on further and he left a few more kisses. A hand gently trailed on his arm, encouraging him warmly, and the Puppet slightly turned and gave a crunching crackling sound.

Mike's hope was shot down immediately. He shouldn't have been surprised, though was much more disappointed than anything else. Marionette must've been stunned by how still and tense he was, it lasted too long to just be the pain alone. Their only plan of action resulted in nothing changing and no idea where to go next. Even without saying a word, Mike's thoughts were loud and intrusive.

"What are we supposed to do now?"

As though hearing them, Marionette choose this time to pull tighter into himself. He drew his legs in, wrapped his arms around himself, and buried his head into the pillow. That was it, he was broken, and broken in a way that wouldn't just disappear on its own. Mike exhaled slowly and slid closer, taking care not to jar the Puppet too much as he readjusted his hold on him.

"We'll figure this out." His voice was still marred by sleep, but his words were clear. "I promise, we're going to fix this." One of Marionette's hands grabbed onto Mike's arm and squeezed. He stayed completely silent.

They stayed like that for some time. It was over an hour later when Mike finally left the room, and he only did so that Marionette wouldn't hear as he called Fritz. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the counter as he waited for the technician to answer. It didn't take more than a couple of rings before he did. "It's me, hey. Merry late Christmas. Look… Something happened at the show yesterday. Something popped in Marionette's chest, I think something in his music box broke, and now he can't use it at all. Every time he chimes for any reason, he makes this cracking noise deep in his chest, and it hurts him. Has anything like this happened before?"

"Seriously?" Fritz asked, seemingly shocked at the recounting. "No, nothing like that. He's pretty much the only animatronic I've seen that hasn't just fallen apart at one time or another. I'm not sure how sturdy music boxes are, but they seem to last pretty well… I don't think I have any blueprints around here or I'd take a look."

"The problem is that I need to take a look. I have blueprints downstairs, but they aren't going to be detailed enough." He tapped his fingers again, obviously stressed. "I need to find out how to open him up, so I can look and see what's broken."

"Mike, I don't know if that's a good idea. You're great with animatronics, don't get me wrong, but you just cutting him open might be a little risky…" Fritz pointed out. He already sounded like he was out of ideas, and he was the actual technician.

"I don't plan on doing anything, I just want to see what's broken. I think Mari might feel more comfortable if I could-… You said cutting?" Mike cut himself off as that word sunk in. It came with another uncomfortable realization. "…There's no way to open him up, is there?"

"Not that I know of, no," Fritz admitted sympathetically. Mike didn't answer, instead choosing to run a hand through his hair, muttering something that sounded like 'God' under his breath. "Not that I know of. I never worked on Mari. I wasn't even primed on working on Mari, but I do know there were maintenance tapes on all the Toy animatronics. So, there must've been a procedure to maintenance him. Not that… I know where they are either- There might still be a way I don't know of. If anyone would know how to get him open, it would be you."

"Thanks for that vote of confidence," the security guard dryly answered. "Alright. I've got to go. If you spontaneously find a tape or remember anything, call me back." He ended the call soon afterwards and began to aggressively eat a cookie. There went his best lead and his only ideas. Now it looked like he would be shuffling through the basement again.

"So, it didn't heal up overnight…" Mike was too tired to be startled and looked back to see Charlie standing behind the couch. "Sorry, I didn't mean to listen in… Again. I heard you two talking last night too." If anything, he was relieved that he didn't have to repeat the story again. He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms across his chest.

"No, it didn't, and now we're running out of ideas." He took a bite of the cookie, pausing long enough to chew it. "Fritz thinks fixing it is going to involve cutting him open." Charlie's mask showed dread at the comment and he gave a dismissive wave. "But that's not what I'm going to do. First, we're going to see what we can find of tapes and blueprints, and maybe parts if we're lucky. There's got to be the parts we'd need in the basement."

"Would any of that be in the warehouse?" Charlie offered. "I was going to see if Fritz wouldn't mind taking me over there later. I could look around while I'm there." This actually sounded like a reasonable idea. Plus, it saved him from having to deal with the less than social Baby.

"I can drive you over there, just as long as you know what you're getting into. You should expect heavy lifting and plenty of unnecessary junk, and that's just Circus Baby alone," Mike quipped with the slightest bit of a smirk.

Charlie gave a small smile. "I don't think there's anything Baby can throw at me that I can't handle. Unless she starts throwing boxes, which honestly wouldn't surprise me too much." She turned towards the hallway. "Let me just… Get one thing and I'll be ready to go." With that, she walked off, leaving Mike alone with his thoughts.

Which he only stayed with for a few moments before a new idea started to emerge. "Tapes, huh?" Mike muttered as he started dialing another number. As before, he received an answer. "Hey, Scott. I'm looking for a couple of tapes-."

Mable: I was thinking of deciding a time of evening to start uploading, but with time zones and all I'm not sure how that would work. It you have any thoughts, then please comment! The next chapter will be posted next week. I hope you enjoyed!