Mable: Here we are with the next chapter! Enjoy!

Almost Feels Like Home

Chapter Forty-One

Foxy deciding to suddenly move to Mike and Marionette's was unexpected. Especially when they had anticipated Baby to call any day and ask to come stay with them. That did not happen. Instead, Baby stayed at Scott's- more successfully this time- and Foxy returned to the Schmidt-Afton house.

The night Jeremy drove him over, Marionette had greeted him with open arms and then proceeded to spend the night awake with him, challenging infuriating video games and playing off one another like they were performing some sort of routine. Mike suspected it was the closest thing they had to some sort of practice rehearsal, and he wouldn't have been surprised if some of the exchanged quips ended up on a stage eventually. In short, they were having fun.

A week later and the fun was still going. Jeremy stopped by occasionally and usually offered for Foxy to come back to his apartment before leaving, but the pirate didn't seem willing to go. Instead, he pretty much made himself a fixture in the house. Not that it really bothered anyone. The only negative thing he possibly did was influence his brother into staying awake into the early morning. Once or twice Mike awoke at four or five in the morning to Marionette slipping into bed and curling up against his back. He was half surprised Foxy didn't follow him in considering how clingy the fox had been.

It was what had become the typical morning. Mike got back from a run at about eight-thirty to find Foxy back on the video games. This time he moved to the older system to take a whack at the game that Mike and Marionette had pretty much given up playing entirely, the cripplingly difficult one. Now the only joy they got from it was through getting others worked up trying to play it. From the way Marionette seemed to be watching Foxy more than the game, that might've been the exact intention. He had only just started so Mike knew he had enough time to shower before the real fun began.

Mike had only managed to get as far as stepping into the bathroom when the phone started ringing. He hesitated with the faint hope that someone else would get to it. Marionette considered it, going so far as to start to raise up when Foxy caught him by the wrist with his hook.

"Nah, Lad. Sit back down an' let ol' Foxy handle it," the pirate offered. He then leaned back and turned his head towards the hall.

"OY! SCHMIDT! THE PHONE'S RINGING!"

Foxy then turned ahead and unpaused the game, continuing on as usual. Marionette just stared at the older in silent disbelief as Mike returned down the hall.

"It's probably just Scott finally calling to unload Baby," Mike dismissed. Of course he would be getting calls when he was looking forward to showering off. Not to mention that it was rather early for anyone to call, especially Scott unless- jokes aside- something did happen and he had to get rid of Baby quickly. He answered the phone with, "Hello, hello."

"Hello, hello to you too," a dry voice answered. "It's me, Detective Burke. I was calling about the memorial this afternoon. I'm sure you've seen it on the news or in the paper."

Mike immediately cringed at the man's voice but struggled to sound as neutral as ever. "Uh, no. I sort of tuned the news out after they ran that story about the psychotic clown prowling the streets," he excused. It wasn't a lie either. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to ask for clarification on the memorial, but he did, in vague terms. "What's going on?"

"The Magictime Theater investigation has been closed. Dave Miller's toxicology report came back and the evidence is undeniable. We know exactly what happened that night."

"Maybe not exactly," Mike thought to himself. He didn't know whether to feel relieved or smug by it. Considering the delicate circumstances, relief was probably the safer bet.

"It's just for us to get accurate information out there and to ease the mind of the public. They're still understandably scared about the circumstances. While this isn't my idea of handling it, it's looking like this is what everyone needs to recover… And it was requested that you were there, since you're still seen as a hero in the case."

"Gee, that's great. But are you sure? I thought I was still the big suspect, because even though I went there to save a couple of kids I'm still held accountable for being a concerned citizen without blind belief in the police force. And because my name is Mike," Mike remarked. He hadn't wanted to let the bitterness through, but there it went. Mostly because he didn't trust the detective and could've easily believed this was some sort of trap. "What changed on that front?"

"Your background check went through and your alibi checked out. You've been, for the moment, cleared of any suspicion. Though if you did have anymore information, we could still use it," the detective goaded. Yet instead of being relieved, Mike found himself offended and defensive. He didn't even want to know how much of his past and family the delved into just to make sure he wasn't related to William Afton.

"Well, of course my alibi checked out! What else did you think I was doing at Magictime?! I was fist-fighting Dave pretty much the whole time!" Mike vented. Suddenly the living room got very quiet. He realized that Foxy must have paused the game and now both he and Marionette were listening, cued in on something being amiss.

"I'm not talking about at the theater," Burke clarified. "I was talking about your alibi at Freddy's."

Even though he refused to show it or admit to it, a chill ran through Mike. It was unsettling hearing the detective talk about Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, even though he knew they were still looking into it. "Right. Sure."

"Mr. Schmidt, I understand why you are upset. Honestly, I do, but you must know why we had to look as close as we did. Both you and Dave were connected with two establishments where children went missing." Mike gave another dismissive "Right" as an answer. "You're not obligated to come and you not coming isn't going to make you look suspicious. I'm sure you want to get on with your life and your restaurant, but I think you should be here."

Mike huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he considered saying 'no'. He wanted nothing to do with the detective, but regardless of what he said, it would look odd if he didn't go. "Alright, what would I have to do?"

"It's at the courthouse and it'll be starting at ten on the dot… And wear something nice. It'll be televised."

"What does that mean?" Mike asked in a mutter.

"It means I've seen you in the same uniform jacket every time we meet up. Halloween and funerals shouldn't be the only time you change." It almost sounded like amusement on his voice, but Mike was less than impressed by the sudden display of a joke. "Thanks for doing this. I'll see you then." The phone call ended shortly afterwards, and he hung up the phone.

"Should've been Scott," Mike muttered as he turned away towards the living room. He immediately noticed both Marionette and Foxy looking over the back of the couch. "…So, that was my parole officer calling to check in," he said sarcastically.

"What the bloody 'ell was all that?!" Foxy asked in disbelief. Then he suddenly perked, head snapping to Marionette as he had an epiphany, and gravely added, "It be that detective again, wasn't it? Blast that lead-legged landlubber."

"I don't have any clue what that's supposed to mean, but yeah, it was him. Calling to badger me about going to some sort of ceremony or memorial that's going to be-…" Mike started to gesture towards the TV when it finally clicked. He smacked his hand to his face. "Christ, he's going to have me get up and talk in front of a bunch of people. I just knew it, knew there was some reason he would want me in there. "Ease the mind of the public"- what a sham." He came up to the back of the couch and looked down at the Puppet. "He wants to use me as a figurehead to show that the system works!"

"What?" Marionette asked in confusion with a tilt of his head.

"Think about it: he wants to ease the public and get them to stop asking questions, just like everyone wanted with Freddy's. So, he gets me up there to show that someone was able to stop Dave Miller, thus making people feel safer if they believe some random guy has their kids' back. And in the end, it just makes the cops look better because people stop asking why they didn't notice something was up beforehand. It's genius!" Mike gave a frustrated glare at the paused game on the screen. "You know what I should do? I should get up on that stage and remind everyone that the Purple Man's still on the loose."

Foxy's patch flew up and he turned on Mike. "Ya do that and I'm putting my hook straight through yer-!"

"I'm not actually going to do it!" Mike exclaimed with a roll of his eyes. "Burke isn't worth sabotaging the business for, but still you get what I mean."

"Yeah… Yeah, ya got a point…" Foxy agreed as he looked away. He grumbled lightly. "He let him walk over an' over again. Let Dave walk too." At this, Mike looked back to Marionette.

"Hey, but Burke said they got his toxicology back. That means they wrapped up his autopsy. Maybe someone could tell me what ended up killing him," he pointed out. The Puppet looked slightly thoughtful about it, if only because he was still unsure whether he directly led to the man's death or not. "I'm going to take a bet now and say he was flying like a kite."

"Won't that seem suspicious if you're asking people about how Dave died?" Marionette doubtfully asked. "Just because Burke is claiming that you're not a suspect doesn't mean that you really aren't. For all we knew, he invited you so that he might watch your reaction to the news and read your responses."

"…Thanks. That makes me feel a lot less nervous," Mike remarked with the slightest bit of amusement. "I have no doubt that's his plan, but he's not getting anything from me. He wants a figurehead? I'll be the best damn figurehead he can get. I'll be a model citizen for however long this last, and all it'll do is look good on the business." He accepted it like a challenge, as though Burke directly said that he believed he would do something incriminating. "Now if you excuse me, I need to go hose down and find something normal-looking." He sent Marionette a wink before turning to head down the hall.

The Puppet leaned over the back of the couch and called after him, "Just try not to get yourself in too deep!" As soon as the bathroom door shut, he looked to Foxy. "I'm concerned."

"Why? Man can't crack open a briefcase, let alone a murder case. Couldn't put Dad away and he left his stuff all other the place," Foxy pointed out. He started the game back up and began to play, with his patch still staying up so that he could watch with both eyes. He glanced out of the corner of his eyes and noticed Marionette still watching down the hall. "I don't know what yer thinkin', but don't think it. I see that look in yer eyes."

"It's nothing. Don't worry about me." Marionette got a more playful smile. "You have your hands full already." He continued to watch the game.

Time moved unfortunately quickly, and soon enough Mike was forced to leave and head to what he was now convinced was a publicity stunt. Determined to go or not, the true challenge was dragging himself out the door and into the car. A perfectly nice and sunny day poured through the windows, but he was brought down by the matter at hand. Not that he had anywhere else to go anyway. He had already called and informed Fritz and Jeremy and both had agreed that this sounded like a bad idea, but at this point he was stubborn enough to go.

Or maybe he was just still riding off the high of Magictime Theater. He could believe that too, even if he didn't want to admit to it.

The courthouse was conjoined with the police station. It was a somewhat unimpressive building that could've gone easily unnoticed. Mike himself had driven past it numerous times without knowing it was there until recently. Usually the parking lot was rather barren, but today most of the spaces were taken, causing him to park down closer to the police station. He took only a moment to brace himself before stepping out of the car and walking down towards the courthouse.

He was halfway there, mentally reciting anything he needed to remember to leave out, when he noticed something moving out of the corner of his eye. There were narrow columns along the front of the courthouse, and he swore, just for a moment, that he saw something dark move behind one. Suspicion crept up as he squinted through the bring sun.

"Mari?" Mike took a few steps to the side until he could see behind the column. There was nothing there, and he looked around quickly, then back towards the car. No sign of anything and he started to consider that he might've been seeing things, as he hadn't felt that familiar twisting sensation when the Puppet teleported nearby. "Great time to start hallucinating," he thought as he turned and continued into the courthouse.

There was an uncomfortable chill in the building as Mike approached the front desk. He wasn't sure to make of it other than a feeling of discomfort. The clerk looked up to address him and he got straight to the point. "I'm here for the…" He promptly blanked on a proper title for what he was going to. It didn't help that the only thing that came to mind was: "HCPD PR stunt." Eventually he spat out, "Magictime Theater Memorial?"

"Right down that hall, third door to the right," the woman said as she pointed it out with a friendly smile. He had a feeling that this was the only genuine warm welcome he would be receiving. Still, he followed the directions and found the room.

The room looked packed, but it was only because the room itself wasn't even as big as the pizzeria's dining hall. As expected, there was a camera crew already waiting in the front and off to the side. Mike could see Detective Burke talking with others in the front and decided not to get his attention and instead sat in the back row, as far from anyone as he could. It took ten minutes before the memorial began. Any longer and Mike would've considered sneaking back out.

Unsurprisingly, Burke was the one to take to the podium. Even from in the back Mike could hear the soft clicking of cameras snapping photos. Burke looked as grim as could be, draped in a dark suit as he looked out over the seated onlookers, barely acknowledging the cameras watching him.

"For months, our city has lived in a fog of fear. Parents afraid their children won't come home after school. Children afraid that the monsters they thought were under their bed are out on the street, ready to attack in broad daylight. Well, they were right. There was one monster, and even though he is no longer a threat to himself or others, Dave Miller lingers as a reminder that no city big or small is without its demons," Burke began. "But what happened at Magictime was a wake up call for us all. Since then, we've been looking closer, we've been scared, waiting for it to happen again. Today I am here to tell you that the nightmare is over."

There was some shuffling in the seats, maybe a low cough, and Mike watched silently with his arms folded across his chest.

"We have finally closed the case on Magictime Theater. We've found that Dave Miller acted alone, and while his motives are still unclear his toxicology reports alone show that he was a very sick man. Dave Miller became a terror to all, but it was the drugs in his system that made him like that. While we cannot condone or excuse his behavior, this too should be a wake-up call. If not for his vices, Dave Miller could've just been a normal man. Under the right circumstances, anyone can become Mr. Miller." He paused for emphasis. "But we can't fear him anymore. He's gone and we must find a way to move on."

This almost sounded like a good thing. For a second, Mike started to agree with the man. Or, at least, saw this announcement as a positive thing. Maybe this could do well for the community.

"But unfortunately, Dave Miller's actions brought light on a tragedy that we have been trying to recover from for many years: the missing children of Hurricane City."

Or maybe this was about to sink Foxy's in a terrible way.

"Years ago, multiple children went missing at or around local restaurants Fredbear's Family Diner and Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. These children were never found, and during our investigation we found out that Dave Miller was a worker at one or both establishments. But due to the timing of the disappearances and alibis, it is not possible that he could've kidnapped these children… Which means that even though Dave Miller is gone, there may still be a threat on the streets," Burke announced. "…But we cannot continue to live in fear. The missing children case has been reopened and I promise you now, I will bring their kidnapper to justice, come hell or high water."

"Hell is right, Burke. That's where you're going to have to find him," Mike remarked. Though his jaw then clenched tightly. "We are so screwed. They're going to find out about what happened with Chance-."

A crackling static noise briefly appeared. As soon as Mike heard it, it seemed to disappear. He straightened and quickly looked over the back of his chair. There was nothing there and he leaned to try and look under the seats. Again, it sounded like the familiar sounds of the Puppet, but it had been so abrupt that it could've been a mistake. Either he was hallucinating, or Marionette was here but hiding extremely well. He slowly turned ahead again, paying attention to the detective again.

"Back when we first investigated these disappearances there was little evidence to go on. Now we will be looking back into the other employees at the restaurant, including those who may have been close with Mr. Miller. We are not saying that we believe another employee may have been connected to these disappearances, but it is now clear that unless we find out the truth about the past it will repeat itself in the future. It is our goal to get to the bottom of this so that we may protect the community, so that you may sleep safely at night," the detective explained. "If we can take a moment to remember the missing children-."

"Mike."

The sudden voice echoed in his head. Mike's eyes popped open at the strange sensation as he recognized the voice. "I knew it," he murmured under his breath. He looked around to make sure nobody else noticed. Considering that he was alone on the back row and nobody was in the immediate seats in front of him, he wasn't heard. He continued to look ahead as to not look suspicious. "I knew I saw you out there."

"I want to show you something."

"Now?" Mike was in disbelief, especially with how strangely cryptic the other's voice sounded. He couldn't imagine how he could be shown something in front of everyone. He was answered by dark hands suddenly sliding around his head and covering his eyes. All at once he was struck by a strange feeling of disassociation. He could vaguely hear the detective still speaking and could feel the chair underneath him, but it was foggy.

Slowly he started to see something else through darkness. He couldn't make sense of much except that he looked like he was staring into an office. Inside were two men; one was obviously Detective Burke while the other looked, surprisingly enough, to be Henry. They both were younger, and he deduced quickly that he was seeing a distant memory. He couldn't look around at the room as the vision seemed to be stuck at a single angle. He could just sit there and watch.

Then came the voices, just loud enough to eclipse the background noise of the detective's continued speech.

"William? No. No, William and I go back far. He was there for Sammy's birth. He's running this pizzeria with me for goodness sake! I know he wasn't involved," Henry said in a protesting tone. From what Mike could see and hear, he looked exhausted even through the fogginess of the vision. "And he went home early that night. It couldn't have been him."

"We've spoken to everyone who was in the pizzeria and the only one who can't be accounted for was Mr. Afton. There are also some… Rumors about his behavior. He's been acting strange since the disappearance?" Detective Burke pressed further. "One of the workers said he hasn't been back to the pizzeria since then."

"That's not true. William is taking this just as hard as I am. He just doesn't handle things well. He's… Been spending time down at the bar. God knows I would be too… but I can't even sleep. Not until we find Sammy. Then I'll sleep." There was a long pause between the two men.

"Henry, I know that this is hard for you, but I can't rule him out as a suspect. Unless someone can verify that he was at home, we're going to continue with the case with him as the primary suspect. There is nobody else," the detective insisted. Henry got this look of horror for a moment.

"You're going to waste time going after William, my business partner, when the man who kidnapped my son is still out there?!" Henry's despair quickly changed to anger. He hesitated a moment as the detective's silence answered him. Then he got this strangely calm look. "…William called me from his house. I know he was home because I could hear his children in the background."

Mike wasn't sure what it was but somehow he knew Henry was lying. Maybe it was the abruptness or the added details or the strange shuddering feeling through his back. Henry was covering for William. Though he was looking down and away, hands tightened, and looked extremely suspicious. It wasn't believable. Nobody could possibly believe this.

"…If you're certain you could put him at home, then maybe there has been a mistake. I'll need the time of the phone call." Bizarrely enough, maybe because Henry was the father of the missing child, the detective did believe him. Mike wondered if he had ever investigated William after that, or if that was why he was investigating Afton Robotics now. "We will find your son," he promised just as easily as he was now on the stage. Henry tiredly covered his face, as though he was already regretting what he had done.

Then, for a split second, Mike saw a seizing bear suit standing in Henry's place.

And then the illusion was ripped away as Marionette drew back his hands. Mike had a painful pang in his head that lasted only a few seconds before he was back in the room, listening to Detective Burke, sitting in the back and trying to comprehend what he had just seen. He was given a few seconds to recover before he felt one of the hands wrapping around his wrist and heard the Puppet's voice. Compared to the vision, the telepathic words were little more than a tingling in his head.

"I don't hold it again Henry, I don't hold it against the detective or police… But in the end, they let us down, and him trying to make up for it can't change that. It can't-…" Marionette cut off abruptly and only gave a single warning. "He's talking about you."

"What?" Mike paid attention to the detective again as Marionette released him and seemingly disappeared somewhere behind the chair. He was right though, as the conversation had turned to the night guard.

"-And to know that one man risked his life to save these children is an inspiration to us all. If he would be willing, I would be glad to step aside so that Mr. Schmidt may say a few words." Even though he put it such sugary words it confirmed Mike suspicions about him being there to talk. He stood from his seat and started heading to the front.

"What am I supposed to say after seeing this? Or better yet, after that long tangent on Freddy's? These people probably know all about Foxy's. If they don't, I'm sure he'll bring them up to speed." Mike felt more uncomfortable as he stepped up to the podium. His heart pounded so hard that he was beginning to feel the slightest bit out of sorts. He fought back what started to feel like growing anxiety. "Pull it together, Mike! You don't know who's going to be watching this."

He stood at the podium and looked at the people watching. They were only a fraction of those who might be watching on television- though considering the time of day, he could've also believed that nobody would be watching. This would still be undeniable recorded evidence of whatever he was going to say, so he needed to watch his words.

Or that was the plan before he spotted a single child in an audience of adults.

It was the youngest child who had been kidnapped. The toddler was being held by an older woman who looked just old enough to be his grandmother with an equally aged man seated beside them. The boy seemed to be awake but was hugging onto her and resting his head on her shoulder as she patted his back. He looked positively exhausted, but it was a relief to see that he wasn't crying.

And suddenly Mike realized why Marionette really showed him that memory: because history was repeating itself. All it took was one's man's dismissal to let everyone involved off the hook. Maybe they could've caught William early if Henry hadn't said anything, maybe not, but the fact was that nobody had been found accountable.

Nobody would've found those children at Magictime. If Burke wanted him to say something then he would say something, and he wasn't going to sugarcoat it.

"I walked down into a basement and found three children being kept in a dirty room with nothing but a mattress and some garbage," Mike said matter-of-factly. "Me, I, some random guy who was only there because a girl was snatched right in front of me, walked down into that basement and found those kids who had been missing for weeks. I knew about the disappearance near Magictime, I was aware people were searching the desert, but all I had to do was walk down there. It was that easy." His deadpanned delivery began to wane as apathy turned to anger. He tapped his fingers on the podium and clicked his tongue. "Why'd it take that long?"

There was a foreboding silence on the room. "Why if the last kid disappeared at Magictime Theater, a small building with- from what I know- only three staff members, did it take me to find them? I'm not a hero. To be frank, I'm a direct competitor with Magictime Theater. I should be glad they're closed, but I'm not, because I've got to live with the fact that if that little girl didn't get taken, I would've never stepped in." That wasn't entirely true, considering his and Marionette's plan to go down there, but he wasn't foolish enough to blurt any of that out.

"And let me say something about Dave Miller. All of us pretending like Dave had us fooled- I don't know how many of you met Dave Miller, but I was with him for five seconds and you could tell he wasn't all there. To think that nobody looked at this strung out man and had the inkling of a suspicion- or even checked the basement of that building- is ridiculous. I don't know what the owner could've said that was so convincing that nobody thought to look. But let's go reopen that old case that also didn't get solved. Maybe there's a basement there we can go check."

Mike now decided to rein himself in. Anger was covered by a painfully fake smile. "But hey, the kids are safe! Why worry about what might've been now, am I right? I thank God everyday that those kids are safe. Sure, maybe it should've never gotten to that point, and maybe we're all going to have to live with the nightmares, but it could've been worse. It could've been worse."

With that, Mike stepped away from the podium, down the steps, down past the chairs, straight out of the conference room, out of the courthouse, and back to his car. Not looking back once.

It was only once he was sitting in the car with the door shut that he collapsed against the steering wheel. He thumped his head against it slowly to try and quiet the mental scolding he was giving himself. "What in the hell did I just do?! I was supposed to be subtle- how was that subtle?! If Burke had a target on my back before, he's coming out for blood now! One job, Mike, one job! Say thank you and walk off stage- what even was that basement comment?!"

He was cut off by a familiar hand reaching from the backseat and laying on his back. "Well, I did it this time. We're screwed," Mike pointed out. "I just made a big scene and made Foxy's a big-ass target for the police."

"Maybe…" Marionette hesitated a moment. He knew very well that this could've triggered the ire of the police force, but on the other hand he wasn't sure if it wasn't already there. "…Or maybe you said what needed to be said."

"That detective's had it in for me for months. That's the only reason he wanted me down here was to spring on that Freddy's investigation and then drag me up in front of the cameras," Mike complained. He raised his head up with an exhale. "Foxy is going to tear me to shreds when we get home."

"That might be a possibility, but we aren't due home for a while.… Maybe we can go somewhere else?" Marionette suggested. He continued to comfortingly pat the man's back. "I think that I'm more than capable of staying out of sight. If I can do it in a room of people, then I should be able to do it… In a movie theater? That should be empty this time of day."

"Are movie theaters even open this early?" Though there was a better question to ask once Mike realized how odd it was that they were talking about going to the movies after what he had done. It was almost like the Puppet was entirely unfazed. He looked back at Marionette in disbelief. "This is not the reaction I was expecting. I'm still waiting for you to lose it."

"And you'll be waiting quite a bit longer," the striped one playfully answered. He seemed to be smiling a little too brightly. Mike narrowed his eyes suspiciously and Marionette chimed lightly. "It's a shame that you weren't able to see Mr. Detective from the back of the house-." Mike swore and dropped his head again. "-Because the look on his face when you very clearly questioned his investigative work, or lack thereof, was pure gold."

"Oh yeah? Think Henry would find it that funny?" Mike muttered.

The Puppet chuckled and gave him another reassuring pat. "He would find it hysterical."

"…You know, I always assumed I was the bad influence of the relationship. Turns out you can give just as much as you can take," Mike said matter-of-factly. He drug himself upright and looked back towards him. "So… movies?"

Marionette agreed eagerly. They needed something to celebrate this momentous occasion. Perhaps it would put them in a worse position, but it was worth the cathartic buzz trembling through his strings. The consequences could come later.

There was soft and quick knocking on the bedroom door before it started creaking open. "Oy, Charlie?" Foxy quietly called in. He leaned further into the room. "Lass, ya awake?"

The Security Puppet roused slowly and turned over in bed. "What time is it…?" She noticed the alarm clock and was disappointed in how late it was. "I can't keep sleeping in like this. Starting tomorrow I'm setting the alarm." She then looked up and saw Foxy in the doorway. "Morning, Foxy. Is something wrong?"

"Aye. They be talkin' 'bout you on TV." Charlie's eyes widened in surprise. "Didn't know if ya'd wanna see it or not but I wanted to give ya the chance."

"They're talking about me?" she asked in surprise as she climbed out of bed. She climbed out so quickly that she wobbled on her legs, something she hadn't done in some time. "Is it something about what happened at the theater?"

"Yeah. Some sort o' press thing. It ain't been nothin' special… Except Schmidt tryin' his hardest to sink Foxy's ship." He added the last part as a mutter under his breath as he led her down the hall.

It wasn't until they were in the living room that she realized they were alone. "Where's Mike and Mari? They can't still be asleep," Charlie asked.

"Told ya, out at this thing. Schmidt was on ten minutes ago making my life more difficult. Got the evidence all on tape," Foxy explained as he dropped onto the couch to watch the television. Charlie went to sit down beside him. "An' Mari went into his bedroom an' never came back, which means he's prob'ly in Schmidt's car waitin' this out." He muttered more to himself with a shake of his head, but then faded off when it looked like something was happening.

"-But to have a life filled with promise cut so short is a tragedy that will scar this city for years to come," Detective Burke solemnly wrapped up. Just seeing him looking upset was an uncomfortable change. Charlie couldn't help but feel strangely uncomfortable in her own skin. "Now one of Charlotte's closest friends is here to say a few words." He stepped aside and a familiar, young man stepped up to the podium.

Seeing John after so long made something tighten in Charlie's chest. It felt like gears and springs getting twisted together, but she couldn't look away, frozen on him as he set a paper down on the podium. Probably a speech he had written in advance. Foxy glanced towards her with the intention of asking about him but decided not to once he caught one glance at her leaning forward and staring intently. He remained quiet and she watched as John sent a small smile towards whoever was watching in the audience. He looked so somber and just like Burke it was hard to watch him, but she could handle it.

She really believed she could handle it.

"Charlie had a beautiful smile," the young man began. "I know that might sound like such a small thing to start with. Everybody smiles… but nobody smiled like Charlie. Subdued, honest, full of warmth and care. She could light up a room in seconds. She was our candle, lighting up the darkness wherever she went. She was bright too- forgive my pun there. She was studying robotics in St. George, and we all just knew that she was going to create something amazing. We were just waiting for the day when she was going to change the world for the better…" His smile started to fade, but he forced it to stay. "…It's hard to believe that she's gone."

Black fingers dug into the edge of the couch. Charlie couldn't look away, even as something warned her in the back of her mind that it would only get worse. She could just stare and listen.

"Everything we were going to do together, the lives we were going to share, its all gone. In one night, we all went from knowing she would be there to never being able to see her. To not getting to hold her one last time. There wasn't any warning, nobody could've told us that our lives would be shattered, and now they have. There is a hollow crater left where she once was. To think… To think that we will never see her smile again, or hear her voice ever again… It's hard to come to terms with. We haven't come to terms with it… I haven't come to terms with it. I'm still waiting for Charlie to come home. I'm still waiting to see her again."

Foxy could hear the low clinking and clanking echoing through the chest of the animatronic beside him. He looked out of the corner of his eye, watching her carefully.

"But Charlie's death wasn't in vain," John managed to pull himself together enough to say. "She saved a little girl's life that night at the cost of her own. That… That was the Charlie I knew. The Charlie I knew would've given her life to protect an innocent, and even though we lost her she will survive through that, through our memories, through the smiles and laughs that we shared together. She's not really gone. She's still the candle, the flicker of hope that keeps us going. And in that way… Charlie isn't really gone. She will forever be a part of us."

That was what did it. The Security Puppet suddenly was hit by a wave of dysphoria. All at once all those things she was fine with- losing school, losing her friends, losing her future- all came back with a vengeance. Another wave of mourning swept over her. She didn't feel like a part of her body. Realizing that she couldn't handle anymore, that she had to pull herself together, she stood from the couch.

Foxy's ears perked as he turned to look at her. "You alright, Lass?"

Her voice wasn't going to work, she knew that already. She answered with a dismissive raise of her hand and turned to head towards the hallway. She had only taken a few steps towards her room when it suddenly dawned on her that it wasn't really her room. This wasn't her home, this wasn't her body- she really wasn't Charlie at all.

John's words were a cold reminder that they were right; warm, smiling, lively Charlie was now sitting in a cold box under the dirt. She was dead to them, and she was pressing on with nothing to live for. She felt like she was the hollow void, filled with strings and gears, puppeteering herself to be like a human.

And suddenly Charlie couldn't hold it all back. It rushed forth with a broken tune and an outpour of blue paint rushing down her face. She started weeping on the spot.

In a second, Foxy had sprung from the couch and rushed to her, trying to pull her into an embrace. She briefly fought him, trying to keep herself turned away and not wanting to embarrass herself further, but he was persistent. She finally gave in and was pulled tightly against him, but by then she just allowed herself to slump against his chest and cry. She cried until she wasn't feeling anything and even then, the tears weren't stopping.

"It's okay, Lass. It's gonna be okay. Let it out. Let 'em all out," Foxy coaxed. He turned his hook around to rub her back while his hand held and patted her back through her jacket. He now regretted waking her to show her. He should've anticipated something like this, but on the other hand there was part of him that knew he had to show her. Though that part was starting to slowly rethink itself after this sort of reaction. "Lemme just… Shut that off?"

"No, I'm fine," Charlie choked out. She started to draw back and tried to wipe at her face to stop the blue paint from dripping down. Then she made the mistake of glancing back towards the television just in time to see her aunt stepping up to stand alongside John. "Please, yes, just shut it off!"

She covered her eyes to try and stop the tears as Foxy snatched up the remote and turned off the television, ignoring the fact that he was still technically recording with the VCR. The tears weren't like human tears; if she was still human she would've been able to withhold herself, but these continued to flow like it was a function she didn't know how to control. A faucet she couldn't shut off. Yet there was the pirate still trying to assure her like they had it under control.

"There. It's all off, Lass. All over with." Foxy continued trying to comfort as best as he could. "I'm real sorry. I shouldn't of even pushed ya into it."

"I just thought it was going to get easier," Charlie crackled out. "How am I supposed to get anywhere if every time I see them- Look at this!" All at once her anguish turned to horror at the amount of blue. She looked to him and noticed the paint down his front. "Look at you!"

"Aww, don't worry 'bout that. I'm used to a lil paint now and then. Usually in purple," Foxy shrugged off. He tried to rub at it with his hook but only succeeded in spreading it. "Eh. It'll burn off eventually."

"I got to get this cleaned up before Mari and Mike get home. I can't let them see this," Charlie insisted. She was flustered, desperately clinging to any sort of distraction. Think of the paint, think of how to clean up, and don't think about anything else. Don't think of the ache and maybe the tears wouldn't come back. She couldn't afford to leave anymore stains than she was. "I don't even think we have fabric cleaner."

"Calm down, it be under the bathroom sink. Lemme go get it. You just sit down." Then, considering that once it dried it would be much harder to get off, Foxy made a mad dash to the bathroom. Charlie was left alone and collapsed on the armrest of the armchair, staring down at the stains on her chest and lap.

Even crying wasn't the same. Every part of this body was different, inhuman, and while she had gotten used to it that didn't mean that she had gotten used to all of it. She had been that warm person before, who got a racing heart and butterflies in her belly when John and she would share those intimate moments, those fleeting smiles. Now she felt the metal twisting inside, strings in her arms coiling and mechanics inside tightening, and had become so used to it that it was hard even imagining how it used to feel. Even remembering what it was like to breathe felt so strange.

Then came a creeping fear as the Security Puppet thought back on those fading sensations. It was almost like she never felt them at all; like life didn't exist before. Come to think of it, Marionette had never explained how he had moved her soul into this body, and she wasn't even entirely sure how a soul would function or work. Suddenly more uncomfortable questions were coming forth. She was always too curious for her own good.

It was then that Foxy returned. He squirted the fabric with the cleaner, ripped off a few paper towels from a roll tucked under his arm, and began to rub at the paint. It had to work. The bottle looked old enough to have been there before Mike was, which meant it was probably the go-to when cleaning up less innocent messes. He knelt on the floor and continued to scrub aggressively.

"See? Coming up fine," he offered to her. "And that's sayin' somethin', if'n ya count all the stains hidden under these pillows. Never go flippin' 'em, Lass." There was no answer and he continued working, hoping that she just needed some time to think. He couldn't have even guessed what question was about to come seemingly out of the blue.

"Am I really Charlie?"

The question was enough to catch Foxy off-guard and he looked back to her. "What?"

"What am I now? Am I really Charlie in a different body, or am I just an animatronic who thinks I'm her? Is it just programming?" the Security Puppet asked. She looked down at her blue stained hands and watched her flexing fingers. "There was so much programming in Baby that she couldn't even remember who she was. What if I'm the same way just in reverse? I just believe that I'm Charlie when I'm not," She gave a sigh and a twang in her chest and dropped her head into her hands. "I can't even remember anything after seeing those headlights."

"Lass, don't go down that road. Yer workin' yerself up 'bout nothing," Foxy encouraged. It didn't seem like those words did much to help. With a patient sigh of his own, he set the paper towels aside and went over to her. He laid a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. She let her arms drop and looked up to him. She reminded him so much of Marionette. Maybe that was why he was already going so soft. "I can't tell ya what happened that night. Even if I could, I don't think ya really wanna hear it. Some things be better off left unsaid."

"But how can I ever be certain?" Charlie pressed. "Something feels wrong, Foxy. I might feel upset, but I don't think I'm the same person John was talking about on that stage." She sent a somber look back at the television. "I'm sure he would agree if he saw me now…"

"That's cause ya ain't. Nobody stays the same, 'specially not when we're switchin' bodies. Ya grow into it," he reassured. He then leaned on the back of the armchair. "…I don't know about all this soul stuff, but I've seen 'em with me own eyes." She looked surprised and he tapped his hook to his chest. "Cross me heart, dead men tell no tales. Once this body's been broken down ya start seein' some weird things. Ya don't see bots and bears and bunnies. Ya see humans. Don't know if they choose what they look like er if it's the aye of the beholder, but they be humans in these metal bones."

"So, you've seen others…" Charlie hesitantly accepted. She had no reason to doubt him, even if it seemed so shockingly unbelievable. "Have you seen Mari?"

"Aye. I've seen him an' me friends."

"Could you see me?" she asked a little more desperately. He hesitated, not wanting to disappoint her, and then patted her shoulder.

"Tell ya what. Next time I get all battered up, come find me an' I'll tell ya what I see. I'm due fer some sorta disfiguring accident one of these days." He saw the slightest glimpse of hesitance, with her not too fond of the idea of him getting battered. He knew that he probably wasn't helping as much as he wanted to. "The point is that yer Charlie… And considerin' all that's going on, yer doin' just fine."

"So, chances are that I am Charlie… Just not the one I used to be," the Security Puppet rationalized as she looked back to her lap. "That should make me feel better." But it didn't. Everything John had said was going to loom over her, like clouds that refused to clear. "…I think I was in love with him."

In response, Foxy put an arm around her and pulled her into half of a hug. "Figured as much. Just take it one step at a time," he encouraged. "One day at a time."

After all, that's how he did it… Or was doing it. He could only hope he was helping.

Mable: Because the first thing you want after being pulled off a suspect list is to antagonize the cops. Maybe Mike is the bad influence. XD Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!