Alright, I know it's past Christmas, but I didn't want to smash both last chapter and this chapter together into one, because that would ruin y'alls Christmases! And by hearing that and seeing what this chapter is called... you can probably guess that it won't exactly be light-hearted.

The last chapter was shorter than usual, so this one is longer than usual!

There are multiple scenes in this chapter, since there's a lot going on.

Here's chapter 56 of "Welcome home"!

"What happened to going last night?" Ford cried out, hands tangled in his hair as he looked forward in horror at his brother.

Stan shrugged, taking a Pitt cola out of the fridge and opening it, almost as though he were unbothered. "You know it's hard for me ta' drive in the dark." He said before shutting the fridge, turning around and taking a sip.

"I could have driven!" Ford replied, looking at Stan in bewilderment.

Stan shot his twin a glare. "Then why didn't ya'?" He asked.

"You said that the tires were blown." Ford responded, folding his arms.

"Oh, that?" Stan asked. He scoffed and gave a slight, cheeky grin. "Yeah, some gnome paid me ta' say that." He stated. "Didn't know if you got the memo."

Ford scoffed. "Unbelievable." He grumbled, giving a shake of his head.

"Calm down and cheer up Sixer, it's Christmas eve!" Stan said, giving a slight smile.

Ford looked at his brother with slightly narrowed eyes, letting his hands fall down beside him. "...Calm down?" He repeated, raising an eyebrow. Stan gave a look of unease at Ford's suddenly quiet tone. Ford pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. "Stanley, we have a stranger in our house, a missing member of the household, as well as hours wasted because of the little lie you were paid to tell, and yet you're telling me to stay calm?" He practically shouted, grasping Stan's shoulders and looking at him with a look of disbelief.

"Woah," Stan said after processing the tension. He frowned at seeing his twin in such distress. "Look, at least try to relax, Ford. All that anger ain't gonna do nothin'." He pointed out. The silent (Save for Ford's slightly unsteady breathing,) moment of eye contact went on for long enough to where Stan felt uncomfortable. He shrugged Ford's hands off his shoulders and placed his soda down onto the table, reaching into the fridge and grabbing a second one. He shut the fridge door and opened up the top of the canned beverage, putting it out towards Ford.

"Take this," Stan said. "Weirdly enough, it seems ta' help with stress."

"I don't need a-" Ford began in a bitter manner, until he caught onto Stan's intentions. He was just trying to help, and even though Stan wasn't exactly sure how to do that, at the very least he was doing what he could to potentially relive some of his stress. Ford looked down at the can for a moment before grabbing hold of it. "Thank you." He muttered, sighing before giving into the kind gesture and taking a drink.

Stan gave Ford a pat on the shoulder. "I'm sure he's alright." He tried. Deep down he knew the source of all his brothers stress.

"And what if he's not?" Ford responded, looking out the kitchen window with a frown. "What if something bad has happened, what if..." He continued, speaking hesitantly enough to where he could hold onto some calmness. "What if we're already too late?" He asked. He bit down onto his lip and scolded himself for reacting so clearly to where his emotions matched.

"Look Pointdexter, Bill's strong." Stan reassured with a nod of his head. "Whatever comes at im', you and I both know he'll fight back." He said.

Ford looked away from the window when he felt his eyes daring to react pathetically. He looked down and agreed. "You're right." He muttered. "I know you're right, I just can't help but think..." He muttered, stopping his sentence and shaking his head. "After what that stranger said about where he's at," He proceeded with a sigh.

Stan frowned. "You really do care about im', don't ya?" He asked, looking sympathetically at his brother with a tilted head. Ford glanced back up to look at his brother, displaying a mournful expression towards him before turning his head to the side.

Stan gave a short hum to himself before grabbing his Pitt cola. "Well..." He began. Ford looked up immediately and waited for his brother to speak. "Do ya' know where you're goin'?" He asked.

Ford sighed. "No, not exactly." He admitted. "The others may have an idea where it would be. Fiddleford is our best bet." He stated.

"Oh yeah," Stan said, scratching his side. "Where'd that guy run off to, anyway?" He asked.


Fiddleford was on the porch, as he normally liked to do. It was only snowing lightly, which didn't seem to both him. He enjoyed being able to see the light snowfall from the sky, and still being able to watch it sprinkle onto the partially visible grass. It was... nice. Relaxing. A good start to his morning. A part of him felt like taking a walk, but if he were to do so, he would probably go back into the shack to get something warmer. He only had plans to be out for a moment here, however, so he felt that extra layers wouldn't be necessary.

McGucket glanced towards the door as he saw it open, his favorite member of Sev'ral Timez walking onto the porch. Fiddleford grinned and felt like saying something, but he didn't want to come off as more awkward than his usual self. Chris felt the glance on him and turned to look at the man, seeing McGucket watching him with a big smile. Chris brushed aside the minor unease he felt by the glance, and instead shot Fiddleford a smile, waving his direction. If McGucket's smile was possibly able to get bigger, it did and he couldn't control the squeal that he released. When the noise hit his ears he covered his mouth. Chris looked at him in confusion. He'd seen a lot of fans in his career, but this one was... odd. Not that he minded that, of course, it was just something new.

McGucket cleared his throat and folded his hands in his lap. "G'mornin'." He greeted in a more casual manner than his first.

"Hey there," Chris said, putting his hands in his back pockets. "Any chance you'd be up for a walk?" He asked. Perhaps he could get a few answers from the man if he were to take a walk with him.

Fiddleford gasped at the offer. A walk? With Deep Chris? And him? It seemed almost too good to be true. And with a question asked of him so suddenly and out of the blue, he didn't think he would have had to go fetch something warmer. He stood up from the couch on the porch and told him to stay there. Chris looked on in confusion as the old man rushed into the house. He only had to wait about fifteen seconds before McGucket rushed back outside with a warm, khaki puffer jacket.

"Am I!" McGucket said sarcastically with a smile, putting his hands on his hips. Chris gave a short chuckle at the response to his question, and the two walked down the steps of the porch to begin their walk.


After a bit of time, Bill had managed to catch a dash of rest. It certainly wasn't very much, but given his circumstances, it would still manage to last him the day. He wasn't currently asleep, but he hadn't exactly gotten up, either. Instead he proceeded to lay on the cage floor, just thinking to himself a bit. Thinking about his situation, what he may be expected to do, and a safe way to escape that wouldn't get him caught by Bratsman. Bill knew that he'd have to make sure to plan ahead and hypothesize in case, one way or another, something were to go wrong.

Bill squinted his eyes as he opened them, seeing Bratsman enter the room. The man took his cane and hit it against a bar on the cage a few times to wake the others up. The boys all cringed at the clanging noise, awaking to see their producer standing there.

"Get up boys," Bratsman began, "You've got one hour to review the routine ya' practiced last night. Polish it up a bit and make it work for the show." He commanded.

Leggy P sat up and tilted his head. "Aren't you gonna review our routine before the performance like usual?" He asked.

"There's no time!" Bratsman shouted, glaring at the blonde. "I'd rented out the stage when I had a strong lead on where you boys were, but when you kept running off and hiding, time started ticking down." He stated, folding his arms with furrowed brows.

Creggy G gave a small snicker and leaned over towards Greggy C, putting a hand up towards his ear and saying "Maybe he shouldn't have been so confident in himself." In a quiet tone. Greggy C bit his lip and snickered back, giving a nod of his head. The two chuckled to each other for a moment, only to stop when they saw Bratsman slam his fist onto the cage. Their eyes widened and they immediately shut their mouths.

"What was that?" Bratsman hollered, giving a cold glare at the two. He narrowed his eyes. "Why don't you speak up, boys?" He threatened.

Creggy and Greggy looked at each other, then at Bratsman. They gulped and both gave slow shakes of their heads, one of the two giving an awkward chuckle. "N-No thanks, i-it wasn't anything important." The other claimed, shivering afterwards.

Bratsman scoffed at the two. "Pathetic." He spat. He looked at the other blondes and said, "Get ready, review your performance, and look your best for the show." He demanded before walking away, slamming the door behind him which made a few of the boys put their hands over their ears. Ergman had a little something close to a habit when it came to slamming doors.

The boys all looked at each other in silence for a moment before Chubby Z stretched his arms out beside him, blurting out, "Well how're we supposed'a do that?"

"This is all happening so fast..." Leggy P muttered with a shiver. "Are you dawgs sure we can do this?"

"I don't think any of us are sure." Creggy G said, adjusting his necklace and folding his arms. "Either way, he won't be happy after the show. He never really had been, so I'm sure his reaction this time will be even worse."

"Never thought that'd be possible." Leggy muttered to himself. He looked at Bill and asked, "So, do you wanna start?"

Bill looked at the blonde and gave a scowl, taking a slight step backwards. "Me?" He inquired, pointing his hand towards himself. Leggy felt a wave of unease pass by him at the scowl, however he nodded regardless with an awkward smile. Bill glared, clenching his fists by his sides. "Are you trying to get me killed, kid?" He spat, keeping his glare and a tone that made the others flinch.

Greggy and Creggy looked at each other in confusion, then back at the others. They weren't quite sure where the sudden outburst Chris made had come from. Was he upset? Didn't know the routine well? Both figured that they would let it slide. People say odd things when they're upset, after all.

"Okay..," Leggy said with a stunned expression. He turned to another member of the group and said, "Z?" Getting the attention of the man addressed.

"I guess so." Chubby Z responded with a shrug of his shoulders.

Bill did practically everything he could to take notes on what was happening on the sidelines, sometimes taking a bit of time to watch the others and learn from their movements. Most of the time he found himself trying to keep up with the steps, the rhythm, the beat, whatever was needed in order to follow along with the ridiculous dances just like the other guys around him. It was humiliating. Having to follow the leads of others, taking specific steps because he's supposed to, because he's required to. He felt vulnerable being able to be controlled by a mere human and some clones. Smaller. Bill always took his own steps, his own actions. This feeling of giving into a role as though he were a puppet was mortifying to him.

He hoped that the day ahead of him would be better. He would, after a bit, be given a chance to get out of the dreaded cage he was being held in and be out in front of a crowd of people. A crowd would make it easier for him to escape, or at the very least form a better plan. At one point Bill had wondered if anyone he knew from the town would be there. Then again though, he didn't exactly know many people. He would have to improvise once he actually saw the area and knew what he was dealing with.

Bill just hoped that everything would slowly but surely fall into place as the day proceeds.


"Aren't ye' cold without a jacket on?" McGucket asked, turning to look at the blonde beside him as the two walked on a little path in the forest. Fiddleford appreciated the light bit of snow on the ground- it was nice. Surely better than last year's weather, where he could hardly get out of his own house due to all the snow at one point.

"I'll be alright." Chris responds simply. McGucket gave a hum showing his unsureness of the claim, but decided not to nag the pop star about it. While he was concerned for the man's safety and health, he didn't want to come off as a pest. Chris looked at the old man and tilted his head slightly. "Hey bro, is it cool if I ask a question?" He inquired.

McGucket turned to look at the pop star, making an attempt to keep his grinning under control. "Anythin'!" He happily replied.

Chris nodded, drawing his eyes back to the path. "I've just been wondering," He began hesitantly, stopping his words for a moment. Fiddleford was patient and gave him time. After a moment Chris proceeded, "Have I really made things worse than I'd thought I would?" He asked.

"Whadde' ye' mean?" McGucket questioned.

"Well," Chris continued, "Has what I've done made things just as bad as that science dude makes them seem?" He asked.

Fiddleford was quiet for a moment before giving a laugh. Chris looked awkwardly at the old man, confused at the laughter. Was something funny? McGucket gave a shake of his head, smiling. "Aw, that's Stanford for ye'," He said, followed by a chuckle. "He takes e'rything seriously, but more so if it's about somethin' he cares about." He informed.

"So... is that a yes?" Chris questioned.

Fiddleford shrugged. "Well, they've both been through a lot." He continued, not exactly answering the blonde's question just yet. "Lotsa' problems, lotsa' drama. A lotta' years behind them loathin' each other." He said, chuckling.

Chris furrowed his brows, just a bit. "Yes but-"

"But things're different now." Fiddleford proceeded. "Bonkers ta' think about, sometimes. But as crazy as it is, nowadays they seem happier 'round each other." He said. "Ford cares for him. An' when ye' mess with the things and people he cares about, he won't be easy on ya' until things get fixed and change happens for the better. Even after though, he still holds a grudge." He stated.

Chris frowned. "That's what I was afraid of." He muttered to himself. Turning his head once more to look at Fiddleford, he said, "You're probably not happy about him being gone, either." With a frown.

"It's felt a little different without 'im around," McGucket admitted. "Stanford is upset, so it makes the rest of us feel down, too." He continued. "I just hope Bill's gonna be alright, and Ford'll find 'im." He said.

"I feel terrible about all this," Chris said. "I didn't mean to cause harm." He added with a sigh, putting his hands in his pockets and looking down at his feet as they walked. His hands felt something odd inside the pocket of the jeans he was wearing. He stopped in his tracks and grabbed hold of the strange object, taking it out of the pocket and holding it up in front of him to reveal a folded grey object that felt light like paper, but with a slightly different texture. McGucket stopped in his tracks and looked to see the man had discovered something. Chris unfolded the item to see a photograph with two people he recognized on it.

Fiddleford leaned back slightly in hopes of getting a little glimpse at the photograph Chris had discovered inside one of Bill's jean pockets. Fiddleford quickly recognized it as a recent one that he had taken. Inside of said photo was an image of Bill standing beside Ford in the bedroom, his cheek squishing up against the others. Bill's arms were wrapped around the scientists neck as he wore a large grin. Ford, on the other hand, was shown giving an awkward, slightly flustered smile with a faint blush apparent.

Chris frowned once more. One look at the two and their happy state made him feel another wave of guilt about what he had done. After what McGucket had told him, it seemed as though it had taken these two a while to get where they were now. And he'd come along and messed that up, separated them.

With a groan, Chris tilted his head back, putting his hands over his face and asking, "What have I done?" With a sigh that made his obvious regret audible.

"Ye' didn't know." Fiddleford defended, scratching the back of his neck. "How couldje', anyway? 'S not like you've ever really known em'." He said with a shrug.

Chris hummed and gave a nod. "Yeah, I guess so." He said, folding the photo back how it had been before and putting it back inside of the pocket it had come out from. He then looked over at the other, giving a small smile. "You're a good listener." He complimented, reaching his hand over to Fidds head. He gave his hair a gentle rub before walking away as his attention was moved to something odd drifting in the air. McGucket gasped at the contact, a wide smile quickly appearing on his face as he desperately held in his fanboying. He gave an overwhelmed giggle to himself before following after the pop star.

Deep Chris looked up in the air as a piece of paper floated about. He pointed up and addressed it to the other. Fiddleford looked up and noticed it as well, deciding to run up to it and attempt to grab it from the air. He got dizzy quickly and couldn't very well find where he was accurately going to grab the paper. Chris noticed his struggle and got on tip toes, grabbing hold of the paper and handing it to the old man. McGucket snatched it from his hands and looked down at it, quickly confused with what its contents were.

Chris raised an eyebrow. "What is it?" He asked. "What does it say?"

McGucket opened his mouth slightly as he skimmed the flyer. It appeared to be an advertisement for an upcoming concert. A Sev'ral Timez concert. Fiddleford was confused and looked up at Chris, holding the flyer up towards him.

"Is this an old flyer?" McGucket asked with a tilted head.

Chris took hold of it and narrowed his eyes at the page. He didn't know how to read very well, so he could only understand some of what was on the page. He relied more on the photo at the top of the page, showing the five boys of the band. Chris looked at them, looking specifically at the person with the outfit he was used to wearing...

But this guy wasn't him.

It wasn't him. Some other guy was on the cover, and Chris knew that the man (Who looked insanely uncomfortable in the photo, which he easily noticed,) was the one everyone around him currently was worried about. The one that he had swapped places with. Bill.

Chris gasped and put the flyer up in front of McGucket, pointing to the photo. "Look, it's him!" He said. "It's the guy!"

"The who now?" McGucket asked before taking a look at the photo. He looked at the specific one that Chris had his finger pointed to and quickly realized what the blonde had meant. "Sweet Sallie! It is him!" He explained, putting his hands up in his hair. He looked at the info at the bottom of the page, listing the time, date, and price of tickets.

"What do we do now?" Chris asked, keeping the flyer beside him in his hand.

"We've gotta tell Ford!" McGucket answered, already rushing in the other direction back towards the shack. Chris blinked a couple times at the sudden change of plans before hurrying off after the man. This would definitely be a good thing. There was a lot of information on the very paper he held in his hand. Chris and Fiddleford ran on the path back to the Mystery Shack.


"Ya' find 'im?" Stan asked from the couch. He had his feet up and the Tv on, watching an old rerun of Grandpa the Kid.

"No, he doesn't seem to be anywhere." Ford replied. He adjusted his glasses and sighed. "The one time Fidds runs off." He muttered to himself.

Stan shrugged. "He'll turn up." He assured.

"I suppose." Ford agreed, though he didn't seem all that convinced. He folded his arms and asked, "Did you happen to see him at all this morning?"

"Only when i'd just woken up," Stan answered. He pointed towards his head and said. "Memory ain't very strong." He said.

"Maybe he went down to the lab while I was upstairs." Ford considered.

Stan tilted his head at his brother's logic. "What business does he got goin' down there?" He questioned.

"I don't know," Stanford admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "But it's worth a second check."

Stan hummed. "Ya' want some help lookin', pointdexter?" He asked.

"No, but thank you." Ford answered.

"Good." Stanley said before taking a sip of his second Pitt Cola of the day. Ford rolled his eyes and turned to the 'Employees only' door. He was just about to walk into it, only for him to hear the sound of a door being slammed open. He quickly turned his head to look over at the back door, seeing McGucket and Chris rush through it. McGucket seemed to have a hold on the blondes arm, waving a paper in the air.

"Ford! Yer' gonna wanna see this!" Fiddleford exclaimed. Ford raised an eyebrow and rushed over towards the two, and by the looks on their faces it seemed important.

"What, what is it?" Ford asked.

McGucket snatched the flyer from Chris once more and held it up, pointing at the flyer with his other hand. "We found this on our walk." He informed. "It's got some useful inf'irmation that might help us in findin' Bill." He said.

Ford looked at the paper in Fiddleford's hand and quickly grabbed hold of it, looking down at the paper and observing its contents. The two waited as Ford skimmed through, reading the paper. At the bottom of the page he saw information on the time of the show, address, and ticket prices.

"Based on the time the flyer says the show starts, it's going to begin in about thirty minutes." He said with a slight shiver. How cramped the timeline had to be to figure everything out. He looked away from the flyer. "And you both think he's here?" Ford asked, looking at the others with a raised eyebrow.

McGucket turned to look at the page and pointed at the photo. "We don' jus' think, we know." He said. Ford looked at the photo and, in the middle of the photo, saw Bill with a clearly uncomfortable facial expression as he was slightly shrugging himself away from another one of the boys in the photo. Bill's eyes were narrowed slightly as if the flash of the picture being taken had hurt his eyes.

Ford frowned at the photo. "He looks so uncomfortable." He muttered sympathetically before looking away from the paper. He handed it back to McGucket and folded his arms, glancing over at Chris with a slight scowl. Chris noticed the glance and looked away, the remorse rushing back to him.

"Ye', I don' think he'd like bein' there." McGucket agreed. He looked at Ford and asked, "Do ye' have any ideas?"

"Well," Ford began. "That all depends on what he's capable of there." He answered.

McGucket shrugged. "He's gotta have 'is powers, right?" He asked.

Ford put a hand on his chin and shook his head. "If he had access to his powers, i'm sure he would be out of there by now..." He said.

"How can ye' be sure?" Fiddleford asked.

"I'm not," Ford clarified. "But I know that Bill wouldn't give into anything like this without putting up a fight about it. Without trying to escape." He said.

"Well either way, if he gets outta' there with em', we know whoever's behind all this is gonna end up toast." McGucket said. He didn't underestimate Bill's power. He knew that Bill could easily rid of those who partook in his kidnapping.

Ford gave a half-hearted chuckle. "Oh, I'm counting on it." He said, cracking his knuckles. When he found out who was behind this, he also wished to give them a piece of his mind.

"So, a-are we goin'?" McGucket asked. Half of the question he asked was because of Bill, and the other half was because he wanted to see his favorite boy band perform again.

"Are you kidding?" Ford asked, "Of course we're going. But I feel I should go grab something, first." He stated. McGucket raised an eyebrow, watching as his friend hurried away towards his old room that he had at one point used.

Chris tilted his head. "What's he doin'?" He asked. Fiddleford stayed silent. He wasn't sure of the answer to his question. He figured it didn't much matter for now, because in just a matter of moments, Ford had returned with a shiny object in his hand. McGucket looked at it, seeing that it was a ring. He folded his arms and looked at Ford.

"Eh, I don' think this issa' really good time ta' pop the question." McGucket stated, looking at the piece of jewelry in unsureness.

Ford clenched the ring in his hand to keep it protected. He looked at Fiddleford with his brows furrowed, blushing profusely. "What? No!" He said. "It-it's not that. For a short answer, based on what I've seen, Bill has more power when he's near gold." He stated. "So if he needs it, that just might help in case something's wrong." He said. McGucket and Chris raised eyebrows, wondering where this strange fact came from. Ford noticed and gave a shake of his head. "I'll explain more in the car. Let's go!"

Ford shoved the ring into his lab coat pocket before firmly grabbing hold of Fiddleford's wrist and running out of the house. The faster they got to the address on the flyer, the better. Perhaps if they were early enough, (And figured out a way in, whether that meant getting tickets if still available or breaking in,) they could get Bill before the show started. Chris looked around for a moment, seeing the others running off before awkwardly following.

Stan heard the end of the conversation from the living room and looked at the door to see that the three had left it wide open. He grunted and got off the couch, walking over towards the doorframe to see his dimwitted brother running off with McGucket and the stranger.

"What're ya' doin', Sixer?" Stan asked, his hands out beside him, afterwards placing them on his hips.

"No time to explain!" Ford responded from across the backyard before slamming the car door. In a matter of moments, the car drove off. Stan watched the car leave with narrowed eyes.


Bill was currently backstage of their new location. Just a bit ago, they had been escorted by Bratsman to the backstage bit of the building. There was a big curtain in front of him which gave him a feeling of unease. He was currently sitting atop an old storage crate with his hands folded. He fiddled slightly with his fingers as he saw the occasional security person or band member pass by. It was upsetting, really. The fact that he had gotten this far, and that he couldn't have escaped from the very start. Now he was left with himself (For the most part, anyway) to contemplate some outcomes of the show and ways he could escape. He had to be wise of course, and make sure not to over plan his plan.

There was a clock on the stone wall behind him, which showed that the time was currently 8:32. That meant there was less than a half hour until the show started. The show he wasn't ready for. The show he wished he'd had more time to plan for. Yet of course someone like himself couldn't be granted such things. The thought of performing something he didn't quite understand was definitely unsettling. Bill loved to be the star of a show, sure, but performing dumb dances and cheesy songs in front of a crowd of undeserving meat sacks? How ridiculous. The songs seemed to be much too current-sounding for his taste. He hardly even knew the lyrics to the songs, and had only heard them when the boys had sung them throughout the day. If he had only heard them singing, he could only imagine how horrible it would be with music playing.

Bill looked down at the wooden flooring and sighed, noticing that one of the nails were a bit out of place for holding one of the wood boards down beside the others. For a moment he almost felt as though he could relate to something as puny as a nail. Standing out as if it didn't know what it was doing. He growled under his breath and stepped on the nail, forcing it down into place with the others holding down the particular wooden board.

Leggy P heard the stomp and turned around from where he was, seeing the blonde in distress. He frowned as Bill took off his hat, placing it beside him. He balanced his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his hair. Leggy walked over towards him, looking down at him for a moment.

"You alright there, dawg?" Leggy asked.

"Perfect." Bill replied through gritted teeth.

Leggy frowned and moved a crate beside Bill, sitting atop it. "You'll be great," He attempted to assure. Leggy looked down and grabbed the white fedora hat with the pink, horizontal stripe and placed it back overtop Bill's head. Bill gave a quick momentary look of disgust before brushing it off.

"Hey man, it might've been a while, but I'm sure we'll get the hang of all the stuff we gotta do once we get out there." He tried.

"It's strange," Bill began. "As if I've never done this before in my life." He said. He didn't exactly like interacting with the boys, but they all looked up to him, so not interacting would be a bad idea. And at the very least, maybe he could get some pathetic pieces of advice out of them.

Leggy gave a light chuckle. "Well, if you actually hadn't done this before, you'd be doomed." He said. Bill's eyes widened and he looked at the blonde in horror.

"What does that mean?" Bill asked, his wide stare locked.

Leggy shrugged. "Dunno. The first time we hadn't done it before he cut us some slack, remember? If someone were to cut in now though, yeesh." He said, shivering. Bill hummed in distaste and looked away. Leggy noticed this and gave a reassuring smile, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. Bill snarled with a roll of his eyes. What was with it with these clones and all the touching?

"You'll be fine." Leggy assured. "We know you will." He said, before getting up and walking away.

Bill watched him leave the corner of his eye. He waited a moment before letting out a puff of breath. This wasn't good.


"Well," Fiddleford said with a small smile, looking out the window of the back seat to see the darkness of the night and the slightly visible trees at the side of the road lit by the car. He was looking forward to seeing his favorite pop group perform, even if Chris probably wouldn't be performing along with the rest of them. "This is excitin'." He commented, keeping his smile.

"Not really." Ford muttered.

"It's scary." Chris also argued.

McGucket gave a slow nod. "Ye', it's definitely scary." He said. The car was silent. After a moment, he said, "But also excitin'!"

"I-I don't know if we'll be stickin' around for the show, dawg." Chris said. "Don't get your hopes up too high."

Fiddleford's smile turned into a frown. "Oh," He said, slightly disappointed by this. "Thas' fine." He muttered, slightly disappointed. And while he knew the reason for their trip was more important, he could admit to himself that he would like to see Sev'ral Timez perform, if only for a bit. It had been a while, after all, and there was a chance that this may be their last ever performance. He hoped that perhaps he could see them for a moment while they were there.

"As long as we get there before the time on the flyer had stated, we should be able to get there quick enough to get Bill before it starts." Ford started, turning the steering wheel slightly.

Chris furrowed his brows slightly and looked beside him at the scientist. "What about my brothers?" He inquired.

Ford glanced at the other for a split second before drawing his eyes back to the road. He gave a deep sigh and hung his head slightly. "We'll see." He murmured.

Chris opened his mouth and glared, putting a hand on his hip. "We'll see?" He repeated, obviously upset. Ford narrowed his eyes slightly, already knowing what was coming. Chris put his glare on the old man beside him. "You told me t-that if we found Bill you'd get my brothers free, too!" He cried out. "You promised!"

"I know that!" Ford shouted, furrowing his eyebrows in frustration and clenching the wheel. "But don't you see? We're crunching on time, and there's not even a full plan able to be made at this point of time." He continued. "The best we can do is look and see what we're dealing with and try to find Bill first. If we find Bill, he might be able to have more of an advantage if he's not all locked up." Ford stated.

"But what about my brothers?" Chris asked again, slower.

"If Bill's with us, that might be easier." Ford clarified.

Chris raised an eyebrow, "And what if it isn't? What if it makes things harder?" He questioned.

"I said we'll see." Ford stated, scowling slightly. "There's no guaranteed outcome, here. So sit back and calm yourself." He commanded.

Chris huffed and folded his arms, laying against the passenger seat's backing and looking out the window.

McGucket was also looking out his own window, noticing a particular bird flying in the air. Fiddleford watched it disappear from the window's view and said, "Wait, was that a woodpecker?"

Ford's eyes widened. "A woodpecker? Out at night?" He asked, looking behind his seat for a moment. It took a couple seconds before Ford remembered that he was the one driving. He looked back at the road to see a sharp needle-looking tool in the road. He gasped and slammed his foot on the brakes of the car. McGucket screeched and Chris held onto the chair. The car stopped, but not in as quick of time that they would have hoped. There was an audible pop sound made that sent a shiver down McGucket's spine. Ford frowned and swore under his breath, unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the vehicle.

"What happened?" Chris asked.

"I think 'e blew a tire." Fiddleford answered. His curiosity got the best of him, and he got out of the vehicle to check the wheels.

Ford got down on one knee to check the one of the tires on the other side of the car, running a hand through his hair before narrowing his eyes. The tire seemed to be losing air quickly, deflating. Ford groaned, letting his forehead bump against the side of the car.

Fiddleford looked over on Ford's side and saw him in distress. "Did the tire blow?" He asked.

"Yes, it did." Ford murmured, sighing in a defeated tone.

Chris unbuckled his seat belt and grabbed the door handle, opening it quick and with more force than he would have intended. The door slung towards Ford unexpectedly, hitting the side of his head and his arm. Ford clenched his fists and growled at the sudden pain. He turned to look at Chris with a glare.

"Watch the door!" Ford cried out with a scowl, holding the side of his head with a hand.

Chris bit his lip and stood up out of the car awkwardly. "Sorry, man." He apologized. He shut the car door behind him and put his hands in his pockets, his fingers brushing lightly over the folded photograph he had found inside the black jean pockets in the process.

Ford stood up from his kneeling position and put his hands on his back to pop it. He sighed and put a hand overtop the roof of the car, his forehead resting against it as he looked down at the tire.

"Can ya' fix it?" Chris asked.

"Not likely," Ford responded. "The air's as good as gone, and we don't have tools to even attempt to replace it." He said.

Fiddleford cleared his throat before hesitantly piping into the conversation. "...I know a guy." He said.

Ford and Chris both looked over at McGucket with their eyebrows slightly raised.


Meanwhile at the shack, Stan was on the couch with the corded phone beside him. He had grown bored with television after his day of binging, and had decided to call up someone he hadn't in quite some time.

"It was nice of ye' ta call!" Lazy Susan said on the other line.

Stan gave a short chuckle. "Yeah, well, when you're sittin' around the house all bored and alone, ya' tend to do stupid things." He grumbled. Susan was nice to talk to, but when on the phone with her, things would often get annoying. Calling her once would, from what Stan had experienced, end up with Susan leaving an odd twenty so voice mails for him. However, no one else was around to talk with Stan, so he had to stick with what he had.

Susan giggled and said, "We should do this again sometime!"

Stan nearly choked on his soda at this. He had a partial spit-take, hacking violently over the phone which left Lazy Susan concerned. She was about to ask if he was alright, though she decided against it when hearing Stan clear his throat.

"Oh, uhh..," Stan muttered. "Sure!" He blurted out, not exactly realizing what it was he had said until after he had said it. He wished the best for his poor voice mail.

"Are ya' busy tomorrow?" Susan asked.

Stan looked around him, taking a pause. There was no one around, and he assumed it would be that way for a while. He looked blankly at the wall before responding to the question. "...Nope." He said simply.

"Well I'll have to take Sally to the vet, but after that I'll have nothing but time!" Lazy Susan chirped.

Stan could tell by the specific cheerful tone Susan had in her voice that there was no way out of this now. He sighed before putting on a grin, placing a hand on his hip as though he had confidence in his response.

"Great! How's about 5, sugarplum?" He then asked.

Susan gave a smile at the nickname and put a hand over her mouth in an attempt to hide the blush on her face from her cats. She didn't need their opinions later on how things involving Stan seemed fishy.

"Oh my," Susan muttered to herself with another giggle. "That sounds lovely!" She said, her smile increasing.

"Well I'll talk to ya' then, honeypot." Stan replied, taking the phone away from his ear as though he were about to hang up.

"Have I ever said that you come up with the loveliest nicknames, Stanley?" Susan asked suddenly, surprising Stan. He brought the phone back up towards him, narrowing his eyes in slight confusion of the sudden compliment.

"Uh, don't think so." Stan awkwardly replied, unsure of how to respond decently to the question.

Lazy Susan laughed before continuing. "Well make sure you remember that, dear." She said before hanging up the phone on the con man.

Stan moved the phone away from him after hearing it's deep monotone ring playing from the other line. He looked at the phone, his eyes narrowing further. "Dear?"

Susan put a hand over her mouth. "Dear?" She asked herself. Had she said that, or was it just in her head? Sometimes she couldn't tell. She looked at her carpeted floor to see four cats surrounding her feet, all looking up at her with confusion. Susan awkwardly took her hand away from the corded phone in her lap and messed with her hair. "It's nothing important, precious ones." She assured her cats.


McGucket was first to hop out of the big truck that he, Ford and Chris had ridden in to the address they were looking to arrive at, right after giving the familiar driver an unnecessary high five when he held his hand out for cash. Ford saw the man's slight scowl at the action and pulled a 20 dollar bill out of one of his lab coat pocket. He moved from the back seat up towards the front and looked at the man.

"Thank you for the help." Ford thanked with a nod.

"I'll get your car back to that barn ya' live at." The driver assured. Ford came close to correcting the man, but decided to let it go. It wasn't worth arguing with him after all the man was doing for them. Ford thanked him again before hopping out of the truck. Chris followed behind, tripping on his way out of the truck. Ford turned around and held onto the blondes shoulders to keep him up before he fell onto the pavement. Chris put a hand over his heart. He wasn't used to such action.

"Try to stay on your feet." Ford said, picking the man up slightly so he was standing once more before turning around to look at Fiddleford. "Remind me how on earth you managed to get Manly Dan to do all of this for us on such short notice?"

Fiddleford smiled. "He owed me a favor after I chewed a' carvin' of an axe inta' a tree by 'is porch last summer." He replied.

Ford blinked twice before turning to look at the truck driving away, their car in tow behind it. "If he owed you a favor, why is it that he wanted to be paid?" He questioned.

"He owed me a favor," Fiddleford answered. "E' probably charged the two of ye' for ridin' along." He stated.

"I suppose so." Ford mumbled under his breath. The three looked around to see people trying to get into a couple of the doors of the building. "Do you have any idea where we're supposed to go?" He asked.

McGucket pointed towards a ticket booth slightly to their left. The three all rushed over towards it to see a group of friends walking away with tickets. Seeing that the group had supposedly been able to get tickets, Ford assumed there were still some for sale. He rushed over and placed a six-fingered hand down on the ticket booth counter, looking at the young employee who had short, brown curly hair.

"We need three tickets." Ford stated simply. He wished to waste no time.

The male employee looked at McGucket and Ford, only seeing two of the three mentioned. He narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Where's the third one?" He asked. "Besides, we've only got one ticket left." The man stated.

"What?" Ford exclaimed, surprised that there was, of all amounts, one remaining. "How could that be?"

"Actually, that's surprisin'." McGucket said. "These concerts usually sell out way before the show even starts." He added with a shrug. "I'd say we're lucky."

Ford hummed. "Well if there's only left, only one of us can get in." He stated. "So who-"

"They're with me." Chris chimed in, moving and coming into view from behind Ford. He got close to the counter and put an arm overtop the side.

The employee narrowed his eyes in confusion. "And who are you supposed to be?" He asked.

Chris raised an eyebrow. "It's me," He said blankly. "Chris."

The man narrowed his eyes. "Chris who?" He proceeded, folding his arms. "I don't think we've-" He said, only to stop after taking a closer look at the man. The eyes, the face, the slight smile. He knew who this was. How could he not? He was working for Bratsman, after all. And he knew that the producer enjoyed bragging about the boys.

"Oh, yes!" The employee then said, eyes wide. He looked down at the counter and pulled out three VIP lanyards from one of the shelves underneath. McGucket's eyes lit up at the sight of the precious VIP passes.

"Of course, so sorry about the confusion" He said, handing one VIP lanyard with a card hanging onto them to each one of the three. He looked at the older ones of the group and said, "You two enjoy the show."

McGucket was gazing down at the precious passes, his pupils enlarged as he found himself at a loss for words. He had never been in possession of one at a Sev'ral Timez show before. This was certainly something new. He hoped the experience would be enjoyable, while still staying focused on the main reason they were here in the first place.

Ford and Chris began walking away, the scientist quickly noticing that Fiddleford wasn't following. He called after the man, finally waking McGucket up from his daze. Fiddleford put the lanyard necklace around his neck and followed after the two. They got a small distance away before deciding to start looking around.

"Let's go!" Chris said, pointing to the left at a ladder on the side of the building. The three quickly rushed towards it. McGucket was eager to look around and crawled up the stairs before the other two got the chance to even stop at the ladder. Chris went after Fiddleford to make sure he wouldn't get into trouble on the rooftop of one of the buildings, Ford following after him. The scientist got up and stood on the edge of the roof, walking towards the other two.

"What are we doing up here?" Ford asked Chris.

"There's a quick way into the room where my brothers and the other dude is bein' kept up here." Chris answered before running off to look at a silver part of the rooftop. He stopped at it to see the vent-looking entrance.

Ford tilted his head. "Do we have something to get down safer with?" He asked.

Chris shrugged. "You're the one with the magical infinite coat pockets." He replied. Ford's top eyelids narrowed in unamusement. Chris got on his knees in front of the vent and pointed. "There's a cage right below it that we can land on, and then climb down from there." He said.

Ford hummed, slight suspicion in his voice. He grabbed hold of the vent's bars and yanked it up. One of the nails snapped off in the process, though it was still connected to the roof.

"Must be an old vent." Ford observed, giving it another yank. After a few rough tugs, Ford successfully removed the silver vent plate from the hole. He let go of it, placing it beside the entrance.

"I'll go!" McGucket volunteered with little hesitation, rushing over towards it. Ford quickly stood up and blocked Fiddleford from entering, which confused the man.

"Wait," Ford began. He turned his head to look at Chris. "He should go first," Ford proposed. "He's the one who led us up here, after all."

Chris folded his arms. "Can't ya' see the cage right there?" He asked.

"It's getting dark," Ford replied. "The sun is setting, and while my vision is still sharp, it's not quite as good as yours probably is." He said.

Chris shrugged. "Fair." He agreed, holding onto the side of the entrance and letting his feet dangle down into the room. After a moment, he let go, getting on his hands and knees atop the cage. He looked up and said, "Come on down, it's safe." He beckoned.

McGucket didn't need to be told twice. Within moments he was scrambling to get through the vent hole in the roof and into the room. Sure enough, he felt himself land on a cage type material. Ford supported himself with one hand on the entrance, the other hand reaching for the vent plate. He grabbed hold of it and positioned it overtop the entrance to cover up their tracks before dropping down beside the others.

Ford looked around the room to see it was dark. He took a hand off the top of the cage and reached into his coat, getting a flashlight out and turning it on. Chris looked at the shiny mechanical device with hesitation, crawling back slightly. Ford turned his head sharply when he saw motion at the corner of his eye to see Chris moving away.

"It's a flashlight." Ford stated. "Used for lighting the way in the dark." He said, feeling uneasy at the fact that he had to explain what a flashlight was to a clone in the appearance of a full-grown adult.

McGucket narrowed his eyes and looked under him at the cage, not sure if he saw anyone. "Hey Ford, why dontcha' shine that there light down yonder." He asked. Ford shined the light down at the bottom of the cage, also looking around.

"It doesn't look like anyone's there." Ford muttered. He looked at Chris and said, "Are they gone?"

"They might be," Chris responded. "We should probably double check real quick."

McGucket nodded. "Good idea." He said before taking a deep inhale of breath. Ford looked at the man in alarm, seeing Fiddleford cup his hands by his mouth as if he were about to shout. "Hel-" McGucket began, only to be stopped by a large hand covering his mouth. McGucket's eyes widened, and he looked up to see Ford suddenly behind him.

"Keep quiet, Fiddleford." Ford commanded. "We can't afford to be caught sneaking around where we shouldn't."

McGucket gave a nod, and Ford hesitantly removed his hand from the other's mouth. "Sorry." Fiddleford apologized in a whisper-shout tone.

Ford crawled towards the edge of the cage to see one of the poles at the corner connecting the cage walls together. He placed his hand overtop of it and slyly slid down the metal pole, his boots silently landing atop the floor, hesitantly walking along the cage's side. Chris saw the action and blinked back in surprise.

"Wow," Chris breathed. "He didn't break a bone." He said, as though he were predicting that would happen. Chris and McGucket climbed down the cage wall, both of them landing after jumping off a few inches off the ground. Their feet made audible noise, but thankfully nothing loud enough to be heard from out of the room.

Ford walked over towards the door and turned the light on, the three squinting their eyes slightly at the sudden brightness. Ford saw a large cage in the room (The cage they were just atop,) And assumed it to be the one the boys were kept in.

"Is this the room?" Ford asked. Chris nodded, and Ford got down on one knee in front of the door to look through the keyhole. There was a lit hallway, flashing multicolored lights being able to be seen reflecting off one of the walls.

"They must be this way," Ford predicted. He grabbed hold of the doorknob gently and was thankful to hear it turn. The door opened, and the others huddled up beside it. Ford entered first, putting his flashlight away and instead grabbing hold of the gun in his holster by his hip. They hesitantly walked into the hallway, Chris gently shutting the door.

"Where do we go from here?" Ford asked, coming close to a corner. He stopped, putting a hand up to stop the others when he heard a voice. He leaned against the wall, the other two following his movement. Ford hesitantly poked his head around the corner to see a blonde man that looked similar to Chris walking their way. Ford removed his hand from the holster and took a step back. Instead, the moment the blonde reached them, Ford grabbed the stranger's wrist and yanked him close. He pushed the member up against the wall, putting a hand over his mouth.

Chris gasped. "Leggy!" He said with a small smile. The man mentioned looked at his brother, not being able to recognize him over the fear.

"Where is Bill?" Ford asked through clenched teeth.

"Hmoo?" The blonde questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Ford furrowed his eyebrows. "Bill. Where is Bi-" He began, only to remember that the others likely didn't know Bill's name. He corrected himself and said, "Chris. Where is Chris?"

Leggy felt a wave of fear rush over him. He licked the scientists hand, causing Ford to let go and look down at it in disgust, scoffing. Leggy swallowed before taking a few steps back.

"Stranger danger, yo!" He cried out before making a run for it.

"Wait!" Chris called out, rushing after his brother. Ford and Fiddleford following behind. Leggy rushed over to Bratsman's office, almost reaching the door. He extended his arm out, only to feel himself being pulled back by an arm that had been wrapped around his waist. Ford kept him close and walked backwards, the others following him. Leggy squirmed in his hold, trying to break free from the strong grip.

"Don't bother." Ford grumbled. Leggy looked up at the old man and glared.

"Who are you?" Leggy demanded, scowling. "This is really uncool."

Chris walked up close to his brother once Ford stopped, still holding onto the man in case he were to try and escape. Chris looked into his eyes in hopes that his facial features would assist in helping Leggy remember. The man blinked rapidly in confusion.

"W-Wait, Chris?" Leggy questioned, tilting his head.

"We've come to get you guys outta here." Chris said. "Where are the others?"

Ford allowed him to pull out an arm. Leggy pointed at the large hallway where the flashing lights were coming from. "Backstage. The show's just aboutta' start, you've gotta hurry!" He said.

"I don' think we can make it," McGucket said in hesitation.

"We can if we hurry." Ford said. He softened his grip on Leggy and asked, "Will you come with us?"

Leggy shrugged in deep confusion. "I-I-I guess so." He said. Ford nodded and finally let go of the blonde, backing up to give some space. The four walked back over the larger hallway the first three had yet to go down. Based on the lights that were reflecting off the walls, they could only guess it led to the stage.

"Bratsman's in his office, we've gotta be quick." Leggy informed. At that, the four dashed down the hallway. At the end of the hallway, from what they could see ahead of them, was a larger room with a door that must be the front door of the main building. To the right was another, shorter looking hallway with dark, wooden planked walls. They could see lights reflecting more vibrantly off it. Ford assumed that to be the stage area. They got halfway down the large hallway before their rushed footsteps were heard by a couple of security guards nearby the stage.

"Do you hear something?" One security guard asked. The other nodded and looked over the corner to see a group of people rushing down the hall. The first security guard looked as well, scowling at the imposters. The two dashed towards the group in hallway to stop them.

"Halt!" The first guard said, putting a hand up. The four stopped, glaring. "I'm afraid we can't let you through here."

Chris and Leggy looked at each other before looking back at the guard. "They're with us." The brothers said in unison.

The second guard folded his arms. "Just because you got them VIP passes doesn't mean they're allowed to snoop around backstage, Legs." He stated. "Did you run this by your manager?"

Leggy stood speechless for a moment, arms by his sides. "W-Well, no..." He began. Before he could proceed, the first security guard grabbed his handheld radio from off his belt and held it up to his face, clicking the button.

"Listen, we've got a few intruders over here-" The guard said, just before taking a surprised step back when the radio was knocked out of his hands by Ford. Chris bent down and swiped the radio from off the white, tiled flooring. He connected it to his jeans side to keep for later use if needed.

"Hey!" The second guard exclaimed, lunging towards Ford and grabbing his wrists from the front. Ford glared and punched the security guy in the gut. The first guard came up from behind, grabbing the sides of his arms. Ford kicked the guards legs, causing the man to lose grip. Ford then clenched his fist and elbowed the guard in the head.

Leggy looked at the scientist in slight awe. "He's good." He complimented.

Chris shivered. "You haven't seen the beginning of what he can do yet." He responded.

The guard elbowed hit his back against the wall with a groan. The second guard took his hand away from his stomach, instead reaching for his walkie talkie. He pressed the button and yelled, "Backup!"

McGucket reached up and grabbed the second guards hat, placing it atop his head and snickering. The man turned around and glared. "Give that back!" He demanded, reaching out for his black cap. McGucket ran around in circles, the guard following behind. He quickly became dizzy. McGucket suddenly came to a stop and put a hand up in the guards face, causing the man to collapse to the ground. Chris looked in front of them with fear. He saw a fresh group of guards rushing towards them, mainly Ford.

"There's more of them!" Chris alerted. Three guards rushed up to Ford at once, the other new backup guard and the first two going towards the others. Two guards grasped one of Ford's arms, the other pushing him against the wall to keep him still. Ford tried forcing himself away from their holds to little avail.

"Shows over." The guard in front of Ford said. Stanford glared at the man, struggling as the two holding his arms dragged him off, down the hallway of Bratsman's office. At first Ford assumed that's where he was headed, only to see an 'exit' sign above a door. He, along with Chris and Fiddleford, were dragged to the door and kicked out of the building.

"We don't wanna see you here again tonight, boys!" The guard said with a scowl, grabbing the doors handle and slamming the door in front of them. Leggy, who was still inside the building, frowned. There wasn't much he could do to help the others. The guard turned around with a sigh, looking at the pop star. "Did they hurt you?" He asked.

Leggy gave a slow shake of his head. "Nah." He responded, taking a few slow steps back. He looked down at the floor, suddenly pondering a thought. He wondered what would happen if he were to stall for a moment.

McGucket frowned and rubbed one arm with his others hand, the cold, outside air of the night going through his sleeve. "Whadda' we do now?" He asked.

The door they were in front of had no handle on their side, meaning they couldn't get back into the building that way. Ford took a few steps back and shook his head. "We'll have to find another way." He responded.

"Are ye' sure?" McGucket asked. "This could get us in serious trouble."

"Please," Ford scoffed. "There's normally large groups of people at these events, right?" He asked. "We'll blend in." He assured.

Fiddleford gave an uneasy hum. "I'm not so sure..." He muttered. "But, it's wortha' shot." He agreed.

"The front door should be around here." Ford said. They turned a corner of the building to see the front of the street where they had started. The three rushed over there, passing the ladder they had used to get in from originally. They rushed over towards the door of the stage's room, pushing past the crowd of people trying to get in, and dashed inside the building. Right in front of them was a large crowd of people taking up most of the room, huddled around a large stage. Ford nodded forward, and the three pushed past a few people to get closer.

"I'm goin' up front!" Fiddleford exclaimed with a grin. Ford's eyes widened in horror, and he grabbed his wrist.

"No," Ford replied, "We can't get too close. You'll be seen." He said. McGucket frowned, and moved back slightly towards the middle of the crowd.

Chris looked up on the side of the stage to see a clock. He tugged on Ford's coat sleeve, getting the man's attention, and asked, "What's that clock say?"

Ford squinted his eyes in attempt to get a better look at said clock. "We're just in time." He said with a relieved sigh. Chris gave a nod.


Bill fiddled with his hat in his hands, looking down at it and sighing. The sound of a loud voice caught his attention. He looked up to see the other three Sev'ral Timez boys getting up front by the curtain, knowing what they were supposed to do. Chubby Z turned around and looked at Bill, waving his hand. "C'mon, man!" He encouraged. Bill frowned and put the hat on his head. He placed his hands in his jean pockets and walked up to the curtain, standing beside the others.

"Hey, where's Leggy?" Chubby Z asked, turning to look at one of his brothers. Greggy looked back at him and gave a confused shrug. Bill bit his lip as the odd beating in his chest increased. The stranger up on stage giving his introduction gave his last announcement before bringing up the band's name. Before Bill knew it, the curtain opened up. His eyes widened at the crowd of people in front of them. The boys walked up onto the stage, Bill following behind them. He put this hands in his puffy coat pockets in hope of hiding his shaking hands. His anxiety increased when the sound of cheering and screaming ringed in his ears. He cringed and looked at the people with a confused expression.

The announcer looked at the group smiling and walked over towards Bill, the microphone cord dragging across the stage as he moved. Bill looked at the stranger with a raised eyebrow.

"Why don't you start us off, Chris?" The announcer said with a grin that Bill much wished he could smack off his face. The stranger handed Bill the microphone. Bill looked down at the object and blew on it, causing a puff and ring to echo across the room. The crowd groaned and Bill cringed.

"Ooh boy," Bill began, his breath and body shaking. He scowled at the weird way his voice echoed across the room. Why couldn't he pull himself together? What was wrong with him? He took a step forward and nearly tripped on the cord. He quickly caught his balance, however the microphone escaped his grip. He gasped and reached out to grab it with wide eyes. He quickly brought the microphone back up close to his torso, giving an awkward grin to the crowd. "Whoops, hehe..." He continued, scratching the back of his neck.

"Oh, no." Ford muttered to himself with a frown.

Bill laughed off the anxiety and brought himself to speak. "Hey, uh... folks." He began, clenching the microphone tightly with his hands. He wished death upon the announcer for making him go first with no context, causing him to speak to the crowd like an idiot. He gulped before continuing. "Thanks for comin' to this uh... this thing." He said. The crowd laughed, and Bill gave an awkward side smile.

Bratsman suddenly poked his head out from the curtain, half of the crowd noticing, and the other half keeping their attention on Bill.

"Hey!" Bratsman whisper-shouted to the boys. They all turned to look at him, and he scowled. "Where's Leggy?"

"Dunno." Chubby Z said with a shrug.

"You went on without him?" Bratsman chided. The boys looked at each other, before looking back at Bratsman. The producer scoffed. "How embarrassing." He grumbled under his breath. Emerging from the curtain, he walked up to Bill and snatched the microphone out of his hands. Bill didn't hesitate to let the man have the echoey device.

Bratsman went up to the front of the stage and put a hand on his hip. "Sorry folks, it looks like one of the boys aren't here just yet. I ask for your patience for a couple'a minutes as we get 'im out here." He said, putting the microphone on the stand and walking back towards the curtain. He gestured towards the boys to follow him, all of them following orders. Bill was more than happy to get off that stage. It was much more overwhelming than he would have imagined.

Chris smiled. "Aw man, do ya' think he's making a distraction?" He asked.

"He must be." Ford answered, folding his arms. He watched Bill leave through the curtain and frowned.

Chris put his hands on his hips, feeling a strange object on one side. He looked down to see the walkie talkie he had kept was still clipped to his jeans. He gasped and smiled. "I've got an idea." He announced to the others. McGucket and Ford looked at him as he pulled out the device. Chris pressed the button on the walkie talkie and shouted, "Fire! Fire! Get everyone outta' the building, yo!"

The people nearby them heard Chris yelling about a fire, and conversation quickly spread around the crowd. In just a matter of moments, looped waves of screams emerged from the people.

Ford looked to see some people running out of the building, whereas others rushed around the crowd in confusion. McGucket looked to the side to see one man on the floor, rolling around in circles as though he were running to get rid of the nonexistent fire he believed could be erupting on him.

"Good work!" Ford complimented with a grin, seeing people flooding out of the building.

Bill heard the sounds of constant screaming from the other side of the curtain and raised an eyebrow. "Eh?" He said before turning around, poking his head out of the curtain. He saw people fleeing and raised an eyebrow. He rushed onto stage by himself and watched as the people rushed out the door. After a moment he grinned wide. "Yes! Run away! Run and take me with ya'!" He exclaimed, followed by a maniacal laugh.

Ford recognized the laugh and looked on stage to see the blonde standing there. "Bill!" He cried out, waving a hand up.

Bill heard his name being called by an all too familiar voice and immediately stopped with his laughing fit. He looked behind him for a split second before turning to face the crowd again, focusing on the people who weren't fleeing the room. His eyes caught Ford waving an arm towards him and gasped.

"Sixer?" Bill called out, giving a relieved smile and rushing forward to get off the stage. He exclaimed in surprise as he felt something tugging on his coat's hood. He turned his head around to see Bratsman clutching onto his hoodie, dragging him back behind the curtain with a glare.

"Wh- Hey!" Bill exclaimed with a glare, once they were behind the curtain.

"Who is that?" Bratsman shouted, clutching onto the blondes shoulders.

Bill looked away for a moment, scowling. Ergman's glare hardened and he shook Bill. "Who?" He demanded.

"A friend!" Bill spat, glaring back at the man.

Bratsman scoffed, narrowing his eyes. "There's no room for friends in this business!" He stated. "Get out there and say a formal goodbye! You won't be seeing him again."

Bill narrowed his eyes, but nodded, trying to escape from the man's hold. Bratsman kept a grip on him, taking something out of his pocket and yanking Bill's wrist close to him. He slapped the bracelet-looking object onto him and then let go. Bill raised an eyebrow and lifted his wrist.

"What's this?" Bill asked.

Bratsman pulled out a controller with one singular button from his side. Bill hadn't noticed it until now, but he was sure that the controller's button couldn't lead to anything good if he had the bracelet on. He gulped, not wanting to know what it did, or what it could do.

"Don't run off with him," Bratsman began, "Shoo 'im away and say goodbye for the last time." He commanded, turning Bill around and pushing him through the curtain. Bill looked back out on stage to see the room much less full, people still struggling to get out of the building. Bill crawled off the stage before running over towards the scientist.

Ford gave an overly relieved smile and walked towards the man who was already rushing his way. He ignored the people around them, being that their attention was still on the false call of the fire and quickly placed his hands on Bill's hips, getting closer and pulling him in for a kiss. Bill was taken aback by the greeting, but accepted it. McGucket gave a mocking snicker towards Ford, causing the scientist to pull away and give him a look.

"Nice to see ya', too." Bill commented.

"I've missed you." Ford began, putting his hands in his pockets.

Bill gave a slow nod. "It shows." He said.

Ford gave an awkward chuckle, and wrapped Bill into a sudden hug. Bill gasped, but sighed after a moment, wrapping his arms around the man's back. Ford looked down at the side of Bill's coat pocket, opening his balled-up hand and slipping the golden ring he had brought along into the other man's pocket. He backed up and looked at Bill. The blonde hadn't seemed to notice. Good.

"Well, we've got Chris right here," Ford said, nodding over at the man. Bill looked over and glared. Ford also looked at him with a displeased expression. Chris just frowned. Ford looked back at Bill and took in a breathe. "Are you ready to go?" He asked.

Bill's eyes widened slightly. "W-What?" He began, taking half a step back and putting his hands in front of him. "Now?"

Ford tilted his head slightly. "...Yes," He said with a nod. "That was the plan."

"Well, that's great, but," Bill sputtered before looking behind him. And while Bratsman wasn't visible at the moment, he could tell that the man was listening in. Bill looked back at Ford and gave a slow shake of his head. "I can't." He muttered.

"You what?" Ford asked, raising an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

Bill folded his arms with a frown. "I've... got things to do. Things here." He said. "I can't return." Bill stated.

"But this isn't your life!" Ford replied with a shocked expression. "Wouldn't you rather come back with us? With me?" He asked.

Bill frowned. He shut his eyes, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against the other's chest. Ford looked down at him with his brows furrowed slightly. Bill looked up at him with a sympathetic expression.

"Look, you..." Bill began. He placed his hands atop Ford's chest. "...You're a good man," he continued, "And you're not so bad when you're not nerding out," He added with a light chuckle. Ford didn't laugh. He just looked down at Bill with his brows furrowed. "But..." Bill proceeded, his voice trailing off as his eyes drifted. "I like it here." He lied.

"This?" Ford asked in disbelief. "You looked so uncomfortable up on stage. As if you were discomforted and didn't know what you were doing." He stated.

Bill scowled. "Hey!" He exclaimed suddenly. He recognized his change of temper and exhaled, blinking for a moment to control himself. "I-It's my first time doing this Sixer, what do you expect?" He asked, taking his hands off the other man. "I'm not perfect."

"I don't expect you to be," Ford replied with a scowl. "What I was expecting is that we'd come here and get into all this trouble to get you back home safe." He clarified.

"Don't you get it?" Bill shot back suddenly. "I don't have a home, Pines." He spat. Ford was taken aback by the nickname that Bill hadn't used in... a long time. He looked down at the blonde, his scowl increasing. "But this place..." Bill calmly began once more, his eyes drifting away from the scientist.

"But this could be?" Ford finished for him with narrowed eyes.

Bill looked back at him with a guilty expression. He frowned. "I know it's crazy-"

"Yes, it is." Ford began. "Are you sure this is what you want? Is this how you want to live your life, locked away and controlled by others? Because the Bill I know hates being controlled. He'd fight back against these kinds of things." He stated with a glare. Bill bit his lip. Ford knew him well. It gave him mixed feelings.

"Well... maybe I don't wanna fight back this time." Bill lied, fists clenched.

Ford's expression softened, and instead he just frowned. "Bill... please," He pleaded, giving a hurt expression. "Tell me you're not serious." He begged.

Bill just sighed. With a shake of his head, he took a few steps back and turned around to walk away. He looked back at Ford for possibly the last time with an unreadable yet serious expression. "I'm sorry." He apologized wholeheartedly, walking away from Ford and back towards the stage.

Ford watched his leave with his mouth hung open. Bill was serious, wasn't he? He watched Bill leave and disappear behind the curtain, just to be sure that the blonde wasn't messing with him. He waited a moment, but... Bill didn't return.

Fiddleford, however, looked at Chris for a moment, seeing the blonde looking at Ford's hurt expression. McGucket looked between Chris and Ford a few times. "So... does this mean we getta' keep 'im?" McGucket asked Ford, wondering if Chris would be staying with them from now on or not. Ford ignored the man and turned around, a hurt scowl on his face as his fists clenched. He pushed through the small crowd of people still trying to get out of the building in order to get outside of the breaded building. Chris and McGucket exchanged glances before rushing after Ford.

"I'm sorry, Stanford." McGucket said with a frown, giving his friend a pat on the back. Ford ignored him. He didn't feel like speaking right now. He needed time to process what had happened.

Chris looked at the building, then back at Ford. "Are we still going back for my broth-" He began to ask, only to stop in the middle of his sentence when he received a cold glare from Ford. Chris gulped and stopped talking. Now clearly wasn't the time.

Meanwhile, as Bill emerged from the curtain and into the backstage area, he looked to see Bratsman standing there. Bill glared and held his wrist up in front of him so the producer would take it off. Bratsman did just that and placed it in his pocket.

"Watch the look," Ergman chided. "I did somethin' nice for ya' by lettin' you say yer' goodbyes." He stated.

Bill scoffed under his breath. He narrowed his eyes as Bratsman left to go check on the others. Bill turned his head and peeked through the curtain to see that Ford and the others had left the building. Bill frowned, wishing he could have gone back. He would have, had he not been wrapped around Bratsman's finger the whole time. Bill hesitantly let go of the curtain, shutting his eyes for a moment and releasing a sigh.