Mable: Hey! Here we are with the new chapter. Without further ado, here we go!

Can't Go Home Again

Chapter Twenty-Two

Mike stormed up to Fritz's front door with the same determination he had when he stormed into Chipper's to face Glenn. Though now it was definitely more personal, and he hesitated at the door for a second before knocking heavily. There was some shuffling before a pause, someone looking through the peephole, and then the door opened. "Mike, hey," Fritz greeted. Mike was about to barrage the man, but held back when he noticed the other man's state. He was still wearing what looked like his night clothes underneath a robe that he had slung on.

He looked exhausted and his voice was relatively limp. Mike eased a bit, but only because Fritz's look confused him. "Hey… We need to talk." The door was opened and he was let in. Mike wandered into the front room and looked around. It looked surprisingly empty as though some things were missing out of it, or perhaps the furniture had just been moved. The coffee table was topped in multiple papers and some food containers, another sign that something was off. Usually Fritz was neater than this; or, at least, Dinah was.

"I haven't really heard much from you for the last couple of days. You basically just shut down," Mike pointed out and Fritz tiredly rubbed a hand through his hair. "No, yeah, I know. Sorry about that, I've just had a lot on my mind…" Fritz trailed off and shuffled to the couch. "How'd Chipper's go?" Mike huffed a little, "It was a disaster. Apparently they've got- What's going on here?" He couldn't ignore it any longer, he couldn't even continue with the issue at hand until this was taken care of.

"You look like a mess, Fritz! What in the hell is going on here?!... Is this about what happened at the warehouse?" The technician exhaled quietly and slouched on the sofa. "No… Well, sort of, but not exactly." The younger male stared blankly, "That… Makes absolutely no sense. It's really a yes or no answer. Where's Dinah? What does she think of you looking like this?" The older male looked away, "…It's over." Blue eyes blinked in confusion, "What?" Fritz was quick to clarify, "Dinah and I. She left me. It's over."

Fritz reached forward to fiddle with the papers on the coffee table. "I was thinking about the new location and it came to me that we could lose the chance of getting the place, so I… Decided to speed the process a bit. I went ahead with the business loan. Eventually I told Dinah about it and she was understandably not happy. I mean, think about it, I'm putting my life on the line for something that isn't really a sure thing, aren't I?" Mike slowly sat down on the ottoman, "So… That's it? It's just over? Just like that?"

The technician gave a dry chuckle, "No, it's never that simple. We got in a fight about it first and it ended with her packing and leaving… She said she was hoping that we were going to get married, that we'd have kids and live life together, and I threw it all away." He rubbed at his face. "What am I doing with my life?" Mike was so torn. He didn't know whether or not to comfort his friend or question the technician who may have been lying to him. Reluctantly, his loyalty as a friend won over.

"You're doing something you want to do. What's the point of living a life if it means dropping an opportunity you want, right?" The technician shrugged a little bit. With his silence overtaking the room, Mike nudged into the issue at hand. "Fritz- Sam, Chipper's animatronics are programmed to attack people at night. They aren't haunted; they are programmed to attack once Midnight hits." The man's head raised abruptly, "What?!" Alarm took his voice, as though he knew nothing.

"And that's not the craziest thing… Glenn told me that you were one of the men working on them." For a few second Fritz said nothing. He simply stared blankly, his eyes wide, and Mike patiently waited for a reaction. Then he finally got on, "…What?" Yet the security guard forced a patient tone, "Fritz, something's going on here. Either you're hiding this from me, this massive thing, or… Or what?" Fritz seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in. "Mike, no, why would I do that?! I almost got killed by them, why would I program others like that!"

"Who knows. Maybe David and Chance got you to do it," Mike suggested. Fritz's eyes widened, "Wait, Chance? Chance was… Chipper's?" Mike nodded and the technician tried to remember back. "Look, I don't remember going to Chipper's. Maybe I did, but I swear to you that I didn't do anything. I couldn't have, because when I was hanging around with Chance I was still basically a trainee. He was mentoring me in animatronic repair." It didn't sound like something he just spontaneously created off of the top of his head. Mike was still reluctant to trust him.

"Mentoring you in how to reprogram animatronics? That's certainly something. Especially since they were programmed to do something so close to what the live ones were doing to security guards," Mike quipped out. Fritz grasped at straws, "Could they have been affected or influenced by the other ones?" Mike scoffed, "Why, how, and what would be the point? Especially considering that you three, or four if Phone Guy was involved, went out of town to work on these animatronics." Fritz became more panicked, "Which animatronics were they?"

"A beaver, a smaller beaver, a metal beaver, two depressing frogs, a pitiful set of whales, a fall-apart termite, and a seagull with wing problems," Mike recited. He wouldn't forget any of the creatures that had tried to maim him. Suddenly Fritz seemed to get a clearer look on his face. "Wait… I remember something like that…" He hesitated a few moments. Then he insisted, "I'm starting to remember something like that. I don't think it was actually at a business, though… Mike, you have to believe me. I would have never done something like that."

Mike didn't say anything in response to this. "A long, long time ago we worked on a couple of frogs. They were the only things I was allowed to touch, being an intern. The others were the ones who were actually doing repairs, like old Chance. After all of this, Mike, I wouldn't lie to you." Yet Mike wasn't sure how much he believed that. He stared at the mess that Fritz had become with scrutiny. It wasn't like with Glenn; as much as he didn't want to trust Glenn, Glenn sounded believable, but something here was missing.

To Mike's horror, he was almost ready to believe Fritz, even though Fritz's explanation was, at best, full of holes. This meant at least that Fritz knew Phone Guy more than he let on. It was a lot of emotions that Mike didn't want to have to deal with, a lot of suspicions he didn't want to have, and, while he still suspected the technician, he lowered his guard. "Alright, alright, I believe you," Mike spoke in defeat. "But look, I'm tired of this 'hiding stuff' thing. You could have told me about this before I risked my life at Chipper's."

"Did you bring any of them back?" Fritz asked. "I would've had better luck bringing Glenn back. I would've preferred it too. We'll stick with Foxy and Mari," Mike insisted. "…And the loan?" The technician started to get out the paperwork. "Is enough with the rest for us to get the building. Once we get the restaurant going we'll have enough money to start paying off the debt, as long as we don't run into any sort of disaster…" This was enough for now, even if there were so many more questions on Mike's mind. The other technicians, the Phone Guy, the murders-.

"So how long until we can go in and start fixing the place up?" Mike allowed Fritz to tell him of the future plans, trying to block out the thoughts in his head. He would trust Fritz, he earned that much…

But he would keep his guard up. He wasn't going to make the same mistake as Fredrick.

Marionette pushed open the door that led into Foxy's bedroom and scanned the area. He had a feeling that Foxy was in here, but he couldn't immediately see where he was. He felt a little deeper and realized Foxy was underneath the bed, but wasn't even sure how he had fit underneath it. Being that the blankets were hanging to the floor, most likely to block Foxy from view, he couldn't see the animatronic as he approached the bed. At this point Marionette was very unimpressed with the other animatronic's behavior.

Assuming that Foxy would realize he wasn't Jeremy, he reached down and started to lift the blanket to peer under the bed. In a sudden instant, Foxy's head popped out with a cry, his hook grasping onto the upper bed to help drag him out from under, to give a bigger jump. Marionette should've expected this to happen, but Foxy still caught him off guard. He visibly jolted back, yanking back his hand and staring at the animatronic. Foxy, who had been prepared to drag himself out and chase his victim, went completely still once he realized it was Marionette and not Jeremy.

He responded to the realization with a sudden shiver and stared blankly at the puppet. Marionette responded with a scolding jolt of static and crossed his arms, his hands grasping on his arms though in a more self-hug. The scare made him a little uncomfortable, but he pressed on. "Jeremy told me about your little game," he quipped to the fox, tapping his fingers on his arm. "You know, as much as I love playing with Jeremy, I think dragging him into a night-long game of hide and go seek is a step too far." He kept his voice even as he pointed this out.

Foxy was eerily quiet. He slowly started to move out from under the bed, but seemed very cautious, as though he thought Marionette would attack. Marionette was confused, but undeterred. "Now he's out on the couch half-dead. If he gets any worse, I'm going to have to stuff him into something," he didn't really mean it, but the comment went right over Foxy's head. He just continued to stare blankly. "…Are you listening?" Marionette inquired and Foxy didn't respond. He was a blank slate that Marionette couldn't read.

Now the puppet just became convinced that the fox was purposefully ignoring him. Marionette released a huff of exasperation, "Just forget it. I'm sending Jeremy home." He partially raised his hands in dismissal and turned to head out of the room. The second he was gone, Foxy fell back to sit down on the bed, slouching over as his body betrayed him with a few twitches. Though out in the living room, Marionette nudged Jeremy awake, lightly poking at his arm. "Jeremy, you need to go home." Jeremy made a groggy noise.

The animatronic considered his choices and decided in the end to just leave Jeremy where he was. It wasn't like he was that concerned anyway. Instead, Marionette's mind was stuck on Foxy's actions, almost obsessed with what the animatronic had done. He knew why it bothered him so much; the distant memories were still fresh enough that he could forgive but not forget. This was basically the same situation with a different target, whether or not Foxy even realized what he was doing. He wouldn't even say anything when he was confronted.

Part of Marionette considered taking more drastic measures. A sudden urge overtook his body along with a wider smile, thinking back to this game that Foxy had been playing. It would be so easy to just… He approached the couch and gave Jeremy a more firm, telekinetic nudge. "Jeremy, if you don't mind I need to use the living room… Why don't you sleep on my bed?" By now Jeremy was awake, the feeling of being pushed immediately rousing him to full awareness.

"You, uh… Have a bed?" Marionette gestured over his shoulder, "Second door on the right. It's a little small, but you're welcome to it. It's more comfortable than the couch is, certainly." The former security guard didn't even ask and instead stood, stumbling into the room, "Thank you. I won't stay much longer…" Once the door shut behind him, Marionette moved right back to Foxy's room and opened the door. The animatronic was still sitting on the bed.

"Well, you've done it now, Foxy!" Marionette dramatically pointed out. "Jeremy's hysterical. He's hid himself over in the back of the house and is waiting for you to find him. I won't be a part of it, I'm going to my room, so you will have to go after him yourself." With that, the puppet slipped out the door and vanished. Foxy was confused by the comment; did this mean that Jeremy still wanted to continue the game? That wouldn't do at this point, this game couldn't continue now. Foxy hobbled into the hallway and headed down towards the bedrooms.

First he entered her room, checking around to see if Jeremy was present, but he wasn't there. This left the master bedroom and Foxy headed in. "Lad?" he called in, dropping the pre-recorded messages and becoming a little clearer. He glanced over the room and focused on the closet. "Lad, come out. The game's all over," Foxy murmured and approached the closet. He reached out and opened the closet. The second he did, out popped a figure out of nowhere, bursting with a sudden chime and a cry of, "Surprise!"

Foxy had not expected Marionette to suddenly appear. He stumbled back in shock, visibly shaken. Marionette, meanwhile, seemed absolutely delighted with chiming chuckling. "It's not so fun on the other end, is it?... Except for me, of course," Marionette playfully teased. Foxy stared at him in the same surprise. "Oh, Foxy, come on. Don't be a stuck in the mud; I got you fair and square. It's no different from what you were doing to Jeremy." And that was the point, to teach Foxy a lesson. Maybe Marionette enjoyed it more than he should of, but he genuinely thought it would show him.

"Aye, Lad… You got ol' Foxy."

Oh dear, Marionette didn't like that reaction. That tone wasn't what he was hoping for.

"Where is Jer'my?" Foxy asked, his voice much more melancholy than the puppet wanted. "He's in my room, but he could use the sleep," Marionette added in the second part when Foxy turned to head out of the room and down the hall. The fox animatronic headed down the hall and approach the door, fumbling with the doorknob. He eventually got the door open and approached the bed where Jeremy was laying down. He tapped the human with the back of his hook. Jeremy roused, looked back, and stared at Foxy in confusion.

"…What?" Jeremy finally asked, completely confused by why Foxy was suddenly lingering over him. "…Oh, uh, yeah- You go hide, I'll come find you in a minute." He held back a yawn and shuffled into the sitting position. Really, Jeremy wasn't intending to go find Foxy. Instead this was just to distract him and then Jeremy would most likely flee the house. However, Foxy didn't leave. "Lad, I didn't mean to go so hard on ya," Foxy admitted to the male. "I get a little wrapped in my games. Even Captains fall overboard when they lose their ships."

Jeremy just stared at Foxy, eyes widening at the more direct words, and Foxy continued. "Yer free to go. Ya did well, but it's time to shove off. Come back to Pirate's Cove when yer ready for adventure." He dipped back into his recordings and turned to head out of the bedroom. Jeremy was too shocked to immediately follow. He headed out into the living room where Marionette already had ventured to. He was kneeling in front of the TV, putting one of this tapes into the receiver. Foxy shuffled in closer and reach out, resting his hand on the puppet's shoulder.

Marionette knew he was there before he touched him, but looked back in confusion at the fox, though one wouldn't have known he was confused from the natural smile on his face. "I didn't expect you back so soon," he pointed out, but from Foxy's behavior he sort of assumed that he somewhat fixed things with Jeremy. "I'm putting in a tape. Want to sit with me and watch?" They hadn't actively watched the show together since they used to play the episodes occasionally in the Pizzeria.

Foxy didn't answer, he just backed towards the couch and sat down on it, watching as soon the colorful cartoon was on the screen. Marionette moved back to sit on the floor beside Foxy, watching the cartoon. Foxy, however, found himself less than interested. Distracting thoughts clawed at his mind as he let things that he didn't want to think about slip through. He looked at the back of Marionette's head and let his mind wander, letting go on his struggle.

The steady beeping of the machines reminded him of the ticking of a clock. Counting down the seconds until visiting hours were over, reminding him that they weren't going home together. He had already counted the tiles in the room so it wasn't as though he wanted to do more counting, especially when it was time. Time didn't feel like it mattered anymore. If it did then he would suppose that he was here for at least five hours, maybe more, maybe less. He raised his gaze and stared at the noisy equipment.

To think that these boxes were what was keeping his brother alive. A bag was full of unknown liquid that slowly fed down a cord and into his brother's arm. It had been blood before, but now they were giving him this fluid instead. It wasn't the only thing having to be coaxed into his body; not if the thick tube in his mouth had anything to say about it. A cord for fluids, a tube for air, a thick bandage to keep everything hidden; the hospital seemed to have figured out everything. Yet his little brother hadn't awoken since he came here.

He didn't ask whether they put him into this constant sleep or not, he didn't really want to know. Not that they would tell him anyway and his father… He couldn't barely speak to his father now. He didn't even want to look him in the face. He stared at his brother before standing and crossing over to the side of the hospital bed. Getting closer, he noticed how pale his younger brother was, even with the blood transfer now in his small body. He looked so much smaller and more frail than he did before.

He started to reach out as though he planned to touch him, but then stopped, and dropped his hand limply. It wasn't like he could make it any worse, but he feared that a single touch would send all the machinery haywire. So instead he recoiled once again, taking a step back, his throat tightening. He wanted to say something. Sorry? No, it was a pointless word, it wouldn't do anything. If only saying sorry would suddenly rouse his younger brother, would forgive him of all the torment and pain he put him through over the years.

Anything he said would be pointless, because he already said enough before, and he had done more than he was supposed to. That loud crunching sound would forever haunt his nightmares, even after his brother came home, whenever his brother would come home. He moved back to the chair and sat down, staring at the bed again and listening to the soft beeping once more. It had all happened so fast. In one moment it went from a stupid game to a horrible catastrophe.

He made an oath right then and there. Things were going to change from now on. The past was forgotten, he would change, he would be the best big brother that he could be. He would take him to the park and play games with him. He would read him stories and tuck him in. The scaring, the taunting, the names; it was done for good. He would do all of this, he swore, and it would fix what he had done. It would make it better.

He had no idea what was coming. He didn't even have a chance.

Mable: So I have some good news; last night I got a stroke of inspiration and started on the next chapter! That's the first time that's happened in a while. I'm not sure why, but this chapter really gave me trouble. The next one is giving me much less. Of course, I only finished the editing and such now to post, so I guess I could've probably timed this all better. *Sheepish* But, anyway, here we are! The next chapter will be posted sooner than expected!