Mable: Here we are with the next chapter! Goodness, I can't believe how close the 7th is. At this point, I'll probably get in one more chapter after this before the release. It's pretty exciting, you know? Can't wait to see what we can use… Err… Uh, I mean, excited for playing the game, you know? Anyway, I hope you Enjoy!

Can't Go Home Again

Chapter Twenty-Four

By the time Mike and Marionette had gotten home, it was at least nine-thirty. The storm was still pouring down outside, but there was a sort of comfort in returning to the safety of their home. Especially when, unlike the Pizzeria building, the electricity wasn't at as much of a risk of flickering. Or they hoped that it wasn't. The first thing Mike did was start to search out the candles and spare batteries for the flashlight, just in case the lights did go out. Marionette was a lot less proactive; sliding onto the loveseat and leaning against the back while watching Mike.

Foxy hadn't came back with them. Between his obsession with Sit N' Survive and his sudden desire to work on the Pizzeria, he had simply made the call and hadn't returned with them. Marionette didn't think it would bother him and, in a way, it didn't. He was glad that Foxy had something to do and was certain that he could hold his own. It was... Other things that were dwelling on his mind. He watched Mike wander around and let his mind return to the Pizzeria, to his return to the small spotlight, and to Mike and whatever happened earlier.

Since the face painting, Marionette hadn't had any sort of weird reaction appear, but he also hadn't forgotten the incident. On the positive side, Mike had done a good job on his face paint. It was worth the bizarre trembling. He watched the man set the candles out on the counter and then take a microwave dinner out of the freezer. It didn't seem like he was avoiding him or anything, so he was probably still oblivious to what happened earlier. Mike was usually extremely observant so Marionette hoped that he had simply excused it as nothing.

This made the puppet also start to relax and push the incident into the back of his mind. He instead flicked on the TV and searched around for something, eventually stopping on a 'scary' movie. Considering Marionette's situation, he didn't exactly find these movies much more than amusing. It seemed to be some sort of ghost film, or they simply hadn't showed the monster yet, and consisted of many people mostly running around in fear. For a split second he envisioned the same scenario on the opening day of the pizzeria.

Mike collapsed on the other side of the couch, fiddling with whatever he had cooked. It was too late to really make an actual dinner, so this was it, and it wasn't even required to be at the table. Mike didn't say anything about the film and just silently watched it as he ate. For a while it went fine. A few chiming chuckles were triggered by the goofy antics that were supposed to be scary. Mike gave a few humming noises in agreement whenever Marionette made a comment. Then, eventually, the TV basically shut down out of nowhere.

While the power was still on, somehow the cable had been taken out, which left the two now standing at a blank TV. Mike didn't even make an attempt to pretend like he was going to do it; he just tried to focus on finishing his meal. "I'm guessing it finally got them?" Marionette quipped playfully and rose from the couch, hovering into the kitchen to work on a new project. Mike called in after him, "It was about time. It wasn't like any of them were making an attempt to actually leave the house or anything." He sat the food container aside and laid down on the couch in a relaxed manner.

It hadn't occurred to Mike until today that he was a little out of shape. He looked the same as ever, but after moving so much stuff he had a multitude of muscles that were more sore than they had ever been. He could hear Marionette going through the pantry and then the beep of the oven as it was turned on to preheat. He was baking; Mike wasn't surprised, but it was sort of nice to hear sounds, recognize the sounds, and be able to let them go without rushing to check them. If anything, the puppet could handle an oven on his own.

Marionette quickly opened a box of chocolate cupcake mix and dumped it into a mixing bowl. He had actually been looking forward to this; it always calmed his nerves to do something so simple and rewarding. It wasn't until he had added the rest of the ingredients that Mike got up from the couch and sat down at the dining room table, watching him work. He lazily rested his head on his arm, the non-recovering one, and watched the animatronic go through the motions. "…So can I ask you something without you getting offended?"

"Mmm-hmm," Marionette hummed back attentively. "I know movies like that are far from what really goes on. You and the others are pretty much proof of that. I've got a few questions," Mike was clearly hesitant. Casual sounding or not, Mike was walking on eggshells, trying not to upset the other. On the contrary, Marionette felt an overwhelming eagerness at being asked. If anything, it felt great to correct what was the standard opinion, what with the movies and such. The floodgates opened and a flow of questions followed.

Most of them were about the mechanics of spirits and the difference between a normal soul and a trapped one. This led to its own branch that became a little more difficult for Marionette to answer. Anything involving souls that moved on, or the afterlife, was an unknown. Thankfully, Mike reeled it in a bit more. By time Marionette filled the cupcake cups and put them in the oven, Mike onto a more direct subject. "So basically, what you're saying it that you can't haunt a building?"

"I could certainly pretend, but to actually haunt a house, become one with a house, I wouldn't be able to have my body. There's only so much that one soul can do, and I don't want to risk my own body," Marionette explained. Mike raised a brow, "I get it. It's a sort of trade off. Does that mean that thing in the warehouse doesn't have a body?" Marionette gave a shrug, "I don't see how it could. It's all a manner of juggling energy and it would have to use a lot of energy for what it does. Besides, I think I would be able to recognize it."

"You haven't even seen this. I have to show you that footage tape some time," Mike remarked. Marionette didn't seem too surprised, "Spirits can be incredibly unpredictable and aggressive." Mike seemed pretty amused by the comment, "And other times they bake, right?" The black and white animatronic quipped back teasingly, "You don't know how lucky you are, Mike. I just happened to outgrow my unpredictable and aggressive stage." He then seemed to get a little quiet for a few seconds before asking, "But you know I still could do that."

"Do what?" Mike asked back. "Be aggressive and unpredictable if need comes to it. I choose to be like this; it's not that I lost my ability. It's not that I've become weak without practice. It's just that I don't need to be anymore. Him, he's gone, so what's the point of hunting anyone else?" Mike decided not to make a sarcastic or joking comment at the moment. The puppet didn't seem upset, but it didn't feel like the time to correct him when he was saying something like this. It was very defensive, but Mike knew the feeling. It wasn't like he was still working at Freddy's either.

"And maybe sometimes I get the urge to do something, anything, but I'm very much in control of myself. I'm my own puppeteer," the animatronic trailed off, tapping on the table and seemingly lost in thought. "And you've… Never seen a spirit outside of the other animatronics?" Mike tried to change the subject. The puppet gave a hum. "I… Have felt them, but I've never communicated with them. They're too far for me to hear, and they probably don't want to risk being trapped here." This piqued Mike's interest, "But you do?" Marionette chimed slightly, "I'm comfortable where I am."

There was a brief silence over the two. Then the puppet stretched out his arms and pushed back from the table. As he headed to the pantry, Mike suddenly felt a nagging concern in his gut at exactly how the other worded that. "What was that supposed to mean? Is that supposed to be a 'don't worry about it' sort of thing, or is it some sort of sign. If things get bad, am I just going to wake up one morning and just find him gone? How… Would that even work? Great, so now I have to worry about him suddenly deciding he'd rather be dead… Considering our luck, it's bound to be any day now. Maybe after our first lawsuit at the Pizzeria."

Bitterness was sinking into his thoughts. "I think I'm pretty fed up with everyone dropping dead around me." He didn't know what he would think if he woke one morning and Marionette was just gone. He had become so accustomed to him and for him to just be gone again. As he watched Marionette open the icing container, he cleared his throat. "Any chance of you just disappearing?" It was an odd question to the animatronic, but Mike suddenly found it come out. "You know, you're not just going to 'move on' out of nowhere, right? I'd like some warning first."

Marionette paused, then responded without looking back. "I wouldn't exactly 'disappear'. My body would just be unresponsive. That's how it happened to Goldie," his voice was blank during these two sentences. "…But… You would know." He then broke in with a chuckling chime, "After all, it's not every day that hell freezes over." Mike couldn't help but crack a smile and feel his concern melt. He leaned back in the chair and watched as Marionette waited the last few minutes before taking the cupcakes out and setting them to cool.

The puppet patiently watched them, seemingly knowing the exact second that the chocolate pastries would be ready to ice. "He's probably got some sort of inner clock that tells him when they're ready. Or maybe something like that," Mike got an amused smile and continued to watch. Marionette hummed softly, light chiming in his voice as he does so, and he gets the icing ready to begin. He only had the pink colored vanilla left and knew he would have to ask Mike to get more whenever he went shopping again. He could hear Mike stand from the table, but continued to watch the cupcakes.

That was, until Mike was suddenly standing behind him. Marionette was a little confused, but didn't react at first. Then an arm started to move around him. Marionette watched it slowly inch around him, clearly Mike, and he started to feel a growing tenseness. The puppet's hands tightened on the oven as his internal chimed out of tune, clearly audible, and just watched what Mike was doing, thinking he would suddenly grab ahold of him. The feeling immediately evaporated when he realized exactly what Mike was going for, the not yet iced cupcakes.

Marionette immediately grabbed the icing spatula and swatted at his arm. Mike moved his arm back and leaned on the counter, "They're just cupcakes, Mari. I think you can spare one." He gave a playful smirk and Marionette responded by nudging the tray away from him, then moved the icing tub closer. Just as quickly as the discomfort began it was over, and the suspicion had gone with it. Yet as Marionette handed over the icing spatula, he didn't exactly trust Mike's icing skills enough to use a butter knife, he did a little self-analyzing.

Maybe it had been the conversation, but Marionette had never been uncomfortable to be in close vicinity with Mike. In fact, he had been multiple times on multiple occasions. Today had only been one of numerous times when the security guard had actively touched, assisted, or tended to him, so today's earlier event had been odd. This one was not as weird, but it was clear that something was still there. He didn't even know what he suspected Mike was doing; it was obvious that he was trying to swipe something and wasn't even reaching towards Marionette.

Now, normally this would make sense, especially if it was anyone other than Mike. Before him, he wasn't used to being touched, and didn't enjoy it when he was. This was mostly because the risk of discovering his sentience was just too high. That, and at one point everyone started to look too purple for his liking. These multiple oddities with Mike just didn't make sense. He trusted him, he was confident that he wouldn't hurt him, so the sudden change confused him. He fought it down, insisting that it was just a result of today, and focused on the cupcakes.

Marionette tried to keep the image of normality and only betrayed some of his own weird behavior after the cupcakes were finished. Out of nowhere he suddenly asked, "I'm exhausted. Mind winding my box?" Mike seemed a little confused, "It's a little early. You sure you don't want to watch another- Eh, I guess the TV's dead for the moment." The security guard didn't protest further, grabbed a cupcake, and lead the animatronic to his bedroom. Marionette assumed that the quicker he got into his box, the quicker he would recover from the jolt from today. Tomorrow was another day.

It was so cold. The smell of metal was thick in the air, but he couldn't tell what type of metal it was or if it was really metal at all. It was just so cold. As he wandered down the hall, he could see his own shadow falling before him and landing on the further door. It was tall and thin; he was in his proper body and unhandicapped. He approached the door at the end of his hall, which contrasted greatly with the rest of the metal surrounding him. It was only a wooden door like one would see in a house. He wondered if he had seen it before.

He turned the knob without touching it and watched as the door swung open, then floated inside. The room was pitch black, but the source of the coldness was coming from here. He felt no fear as the lights suddenly flickered on. For a second he was blinded, but then he was suddenly faced by the being in the room… And it wasn't what he expected at all. A monster, a sign, something. Instead, it was a familiar child, or teen. He sat on the ground and reclined casually against the back wall. He wasn't injured, he wasn't bloody, he wasn't a ghost, he was just a kid.

In fact, he knew this kid, and recognized his voice. "Aren't you the kid who always hides under the table and cries?" At hearing the kid's question, he felt the uncontrollable urge to give a pointed frown and the most unimpressed look he could muster. The kid laughed in a jolly, but cruel manner. "No one else is scared! Why are you? Stop being such a baby!" The kid continued to laugh as he turned and floated back towards the door, passing through and closing it behind him. With the same frown and an overwhelming feeling of annoyance, he continued down the hall…

It might have not been a nightmare, but it woke him regardless. Unlike the disturbing dream from before, Marionette didn't wake full of despair and fear. He instead woke with the same annoyance he felt in the dream. Now he would have to get his music box rewound, get out of his box, get back into his box, and all for a memory that, frankly, wasn't important enough to remember. It left a bitter taste in his mouth and he slipped out of his box. By now Mike had to be asleep, so it seemed quicker and less bothersome if he just wound it himself.

He carried the music box to himself with his telekinesis as he moved over towards the bed, sitting down on it and resting the music box in his lap. Doing this in the box would've been an uncomfortable mess. Marionette laid his hand on the handle and tried to quickly wind it. Unfortunately, there was one problem with this method, and that was that even with the cranking noise he could hear the music as he wound it. He started to dip out of consciousness, scrambling to finish the winding, and having it suddenly fall out of his hands and to the floor.

Then Marionette collapsed onto the bed.

"Aren't you the kid who always hides under the table and cries?" The kid's question sounded even more patronizing the second, or third, time hearing it. Marionette frowned once again and crossed his arms. You would think that the kid couldn't recognize him as he was now, but somehow he did. He couldn't remember the kid's name no matter how hard he tried. "No one else is scared! Why are you? Stop being such a baby!" With the chastising quote over, Marionette desired to point out that he had a reason to be scared, to defend himself, but he couldn't.

At first he was determined not to leave. He stared down the kid and waited for him to say more. Yet he didn't; he just stared at Marionette with a frozen smile, seemingly stuck after his looped comment finished. It became a staring contest between the two before finally Marionette turned to leave, exiting the door and…

The puppet knew he hadn't been asleep long. From the awkward position, he believed that perhaps he woke as soon as the box shut off, which was still laying on the floor. He fought the urge to groan, he didn't really want to make much noise so late at night, and lifted the music box in frustration. After a few moments of staring at it, he moved it towards its previous spot by the lamp, not getting up at all as he did so. It wasn't like the thing was going to work for him anyway, so it was best just to try and sleep without it.

A sudden flare of annoyance passed and the music box jolted forwards a bit too fast. It struck the lamp with a loud clanking noise. The lamp then toppled off of its wooden pedestal and fell to the floor with a thump. Marionette stared at it for a few seconds, taking in the sudden noise with a blank look, and then rolled over to face the wall. He was just giving up; the night had turned into a disaster. As though it couldn't get worse, soon afterwards he heard footsteps down the hall. Now he gave a static filled groan and yanked the pillow over his face in a pout.

In the last second he had, he grappled out and grabbed the Golden Freddy plush, tugging it against his chest. The door then opened and Mike looked in. "Something up?" he asked tiredly. It was obvious from his faded voice that he had been asleep. He eventually saw the lamp on the floor and sighed; something definitely happened. He approached the bed, noticing that the puppet was on it instead of in his box. He noticed the plush being held in his grasp and sighed, "Alright, something's wrong, you've got your bear with you."

"Nothing's wrong," Marionette protested. "I accidently knocked over the lamp. That's all. I'm sorry to wake you." His voice betrayed his frustration and Mike sat down on the bed behind him. "Don't worry about it, but I'm not leaving until you tell me what you're pouting about." In response, Marionette gave a small snap, "I'm fine, Mike. I'm not always going through a catastrophe that you have to come in and fix." In response, Mike just raised a brow, unfazed by the outburst. There were a few moments of silence.

"…I had a weird dream… It's not a nightmare, it's not troubling me, but it keeps waking me back up and it's extremely grating. It's already occurred twice and has worn by patience thin," Marionette finally explained to Mike. "The lamp was an accident though. I didn't want to wake you." The security guard insisted, "That's what I'm here for. It's not like you're the only one whose had bizarre dreams." Then, out of nowhere, Mike concluded with an offer, "You can come stay with me if you want." The puppet felt eagerness swell inside.

"…It wouldn't bother you?" he checked as he felt Mike stand from the bed. "No. Let me just get the box." Marionette knew he meant his box, not the music box, and wasn't exactly eager to climb back in. However, it was better than nothing. Mike started to move the box a little, but stopped the second his lower back started to protest. "If this is this bad now, what am I supposed to do when I actually get old?" he mentally complained. He stared at the box in distain; almost like he thought it was secretly mocking him in his inability to move it.

"…Second thought; just crash in the bed with me. It's too late to start projects." Or Mike took the easy way out. Marionette didn't complain and rose from the bed, bringing the Golden Freddy plush with him. Mike cringed at seeing it, "And you're bringing him." Marionette smiled to him, a teasing tone in his voice, "What's wrong, Mike? Jealous of a teddy bear?" Mike made a dismissive noise; almost like a scoff, but a little too flat. "You wouldn't be asking that if you could smell the damn thing," Mike mentally remarked. "You could only wish, Mari."

It was a sunny day and a group of children were batting around a balloon in the parking lot of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Marionette watched them until Mike wandered over. "Bad news, I've got to go get more pizza. All of the ovens caught on fire and it's just not going to work." He pulled a bicycle off of his back, where he had been carrying it, and began to unfold it as the puppet grabbed his arm. "I can't watch the kids by myself! They'll run off, there's too many of them!" Mike insisted, "It'll just be a couple of minutes. Make sure they don't leave."

The moment Mike peddled off, Marionette turned to find the children gone. He realized the balloon had blown away and they must have followed it, even though not seeing any of it, and started to search for them. He wandered into a backyard where a couple of elderly ladies were sitting and found one of the children hiding between them. "There you are! Now go back to the Pizzeria," Marionette instructed. The child nodded and hurried off as though it was nothing. The black and white animatronic crawled under a fence to look for more.

There was a wide highway on the other side of the fence and Marionette arrived just in time to see the kids running on the other side. Yet just as he tried to float across the street, hundreds of cars started to zoom by. He frantically tried to find another way across and it was when he approached a crosswalk that he spotted something familiar. There, leaning against a fence, was the same kid or teen that he had recognized before. He was still laughing as he had before. "Aren't you that kid who always hides under the table and cries?"

Marionette was exasperated by now. Unlike the rest of the dream, seeing the kid made him suddenly remember that he was in fact dreaming. Seeing the male once more only reminded him of his previous frustrations. Before he could finish, Marionette turned and tried to float away. He felt his body shift and watched as he spun around, frozen in place as he stared at the kid. The kid's face clenched and he flung himself forwards, crawling fast across the ground towards the animatronic. He then grabbed ahold of a striped leg; his fingers were ice cold.

"Don't walk away from me!"

Marionette didn't awaken feeling annoyed this time; he awoke feeling violated. He could still feel the ice cold fingers still around his leg and he yanked it closer to feel over it. There was no hand, no boy, but he still felt him as though he was there. He gave a slight shiver at the sensation and soon returned to a quiet calmness. Again, the sensation in him was not fear, but a sort of dread that came with the act of losing control. That dream, or nightmare, had grabbed him by the strings and forced him to dance the way it wanted.

And the hand on the cross had been the cold hand of the kid; the kid who he hadn't seen in years, who he couldn't even remember the name of, yet still reappeared three times. Through the darkness he stared at his Golden Freddy plush, raising it from under the blanket to stare in the darkness. This was one of those times that he wished he could actually speak to Goldie and receive answers back. Yet Goldie was gone… Marionette turned onto his back and glanced across the space of bed to the other person laying with him.

Marionette didn't like feeling childish. Drawing, watching his cartoons, fondly doting on his plush collection; they were all things that he could write off as hobbies. Needing someone to comfort him after a nightmare was definitely a regression, and he still was embarrassed of his behavior during his last one. He had been rendered a babbling fool, a baby- That comparison was a lot worse when coming from himself. Even though tonight he was more uneased then frightened, more unsettled than overcome by despair, he wanted to wake Mike.

He shook it off; as it was, Mike tended to him enough. He needed sleep while Marionette could go without. Which sounded like a good idea, as he continued to have these dreams and they didn't seem like they were preparing to stop anytime soon. He still found himself releasing his grip on the plush and sliding a little closer to the human. Not to wake him, but to take comfort in being closer and being safe. It was an ironic contrast considering that the situation earlier had been clearly reversed, yet it didn't surprise him.

Wanting to be closer to Mike felt normal. It felt human. So if that was what he needed to get over whatever that dream was then so be it. Twice today he had been uncomfortable from some sort of close vicinity. Tonight he thrived off of it more than anything else. Maybe that was better than wondering about meaningless questions.

Or maybe he just didn't want to hear the answers.

Mable: Don't you love it when kids harass you in your dreams? Especially when you're in the middle of doing something, like Frogger-ing your way across a busy highway. Anyway, the next chapter will be posted as soon as I can finish it, which should certainly be before the 7th. I hope everyone enjoyed!