Mable: Okay, so I think I figured out the issue I'm having with updating. It should've been obvious to me, but my problems updating started to appear the same time that I started setting aside time to write my novel. You may or may not know this, but I'm starting a novel that I'm hoping to release at the end of this year- a fantasy novel that will be published under my full name. While I'm still juggling everything pretty well, I do think that going back and forth between medias is managing to slow me down.
That being said, rest assured that I don't intend to stop Fanfiction. This is what I do for fun, even though I put as much care as I can into it. I'm just going to have to make a better scheduling plan for everything and, hopefully, this'll get a lot easier once I get used to larger load of stuff to write. I also am not having trouble writing this story. While I'm running late, I'm not getting tripped up; most of the story is planned in advanced, so I'm not going to suddenly reveal a massive writer's block and be out of luck.
So… It's not a good excuse, but it is the reason for why my schedule is off. Remarkably, I didn't realize this until a few days ago even though I've been working on the novel since late March. Anyway, enough of me. I hope you enjoy!
Can't Go Home Again
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Jeremy had to get out of the house. If he didn't get out of the house sooner than later, he would lose what little bit of his sanity remained.
For an entire day, the storm had raged and he had been trapped inside with the Minireenas and the Magician. That day had been the closest thing to madness that he had ever suffered through. He needed out, fast, and as soon as the next morning came he was off to the pizzeria. He didn't even know if they intended on opening or if they had power, but he needed a few moments away from the animatronics that had overtaken his home. It had seemed like such a good idea, but now the walls were closing in, and the pizzeria was his salvation.
As he unlocked the front door and stepped inside, Jeremy already noticed that something was a little odd. Some of the lights were already on and he shuffled inside. "Hello?" There was no immediate response. He started through the front and headed towards the kitchen, nudging the door open and sliding through. Now standing in the kitchen, he saw a stack of plates, pans, and trays laying out on the counter. "…What happened in here?" He slowly started in a few steps, before noticing a soft whirring noise.
Jeremy looked back and immediately came face to face with Baby, angled behind the kitchen door, waiting for him. "Gah!" he stumbled back.
"Hello," Baby quietly introduced, staring with an unflinching gaze. She seemed much too interested in him and being that she towered over him, it was rather unsettling. More unsettling than being stared down by Foxy or Marionette. Regardless of her seemingly sweet voice, something about Baby made Jeremy uncomfortable. Maybe it was the fact that when she moved he could hear her wires moving around inside. Maybe it was because he knew that she had once attempted to put her own wires into a human body.
"Uh, yeah, hello Baby," Jeremy forced a normal greeting. He just needed to act like everything was normal and get out of the kitchen as fast as possible. "Looks like a storm hit this place. Doesn't it?"
"It was a long night and a long day, and another long night," Baby vaguely explained. "It was Foxy. I wouldn't go see him if I were you; he's a mess."
With this warning, the human felt a pang of inward dread. He wasn't exactly sure of what Baby would classify as a 'mess', but he could only assume the worst. With the obvious horror present on his face, he dared to inquire further. "Where… Is he?"
"Behind his curtain," Baby answered. "But you don't want to see him like that."
Of course, Jeremy immediately slipped past Baby and hurried over to the curtain. He couldn't even imagine what Baby's warning could mean and eagerly slung open the curtain. "Foxy?!" The animatronic was sitting to himself against the wall and shielded himself as light poured past the curtain. His fabric was stained, especially around his mouth area, and Jeremy was taken aback by the overwhelming smell of chocolate.
"Don't look at me," Foxy muttered as he shifted to turn away. "Ol' Foxy's gone overboard."
"On chocolate?" Jeremy pushed open the curtain the rest of the way and saw the stains that had accumulated around the mouth. It looked like Foxy had attempted to wash it off, but soap and water wasn't going to clean off all the clumps of sugary icing. "What happened? You're- Captain…" Jeremy didn't know if this was exasperation or mere confusion, but the amusement was slowly creeping in. To be blunt, Foxy looked like a three-year-old who had gotten into his birthday cake early. "What, were you trying to eat the cake?"
"It all tastes so good," Foxy lamented. "Ankle deep in chocolate and so much pizza-!" Inwardly, Jeremy cringed when he mentioned the pizza, and was now starting to question how much foodstuff Foxy had efficiently smeared into himself. "Couldn't eat a bite, but could taste it all, lad!"
"That's great Foxy…" Jeremy quietly remarked. "Let's go see if we can get some of this off…" It didn't all look dry and as the animatronic stood, Jeremy suppressed a guffaw at even more smears that came to light. Now it was funny and he clenched his mouth shut, deciding not to risk offending Foxy. He stepped down from the stage and coaxed Foxy towards the bathroom, before going into the closet to get the supplies. Baby was now watching him again and, while it was unnerving, it wasn't nearly as bad considering that Foxy was nearby.
Next thing he knew, he was spraying fabric cleaner and scrubbing at red 'fur' with an old toothbrush. It seemed like this would be extremely awkward, but it surprisingly wasn't. While Foxy was embarrassed about what he did, he wasn't embarrassed about Jeremy touching or cleaning him. In a way, this made the whole event a lot less weird for Jeremy. Foxy wasn't self-conscious, so this somehow rubbed off on the human male as well, if only just a little bit. It also helped that Baby didn't follow them into the restroom.
Unfortunately, this calmness couldn't last. Just as Jeremy was thinking of how nice it was to take care of an animatronic who wasn't completely aggressive, Foxy asked a random question. "What do ya think of a human and animatronic knocking boots?" It was so blunt that in the first moments Jeremy didn't know what to say. He knew exactly what Foxy was implying though; a human and an animatronic being in an obviously romantic relationship. It was a bizarre question to suddenly be presented with.
"I… I don't know. Why?" Jeremy's voice wavered as he tried to sound normal. However, he couldn't fight the rushing thoughts that questioned why Foxy himself would be wondering this. Was this about Baby, Marionette, or Foxy himself? Baby was too new to be fond of any humans and he doubted that Marionette would've revealed his hidden feelings to his older sibling. So, it would have to be Foxy, but even that was curious. Again, Foxy sounded concerned but not self-conscious, which called it being him into question.
"It ain't important. Just be honest, Lad. I need yer honesty now," Foxy assured. He looked their images in the mirror, watching as Jeremy moved to scrub at a small mark on his shoulder. "Humans and animatronics fooling around. Yes or no?"
"Uh…" Foxy certainly didn't know how to word what he was saying, that was for sure. With his determination, it became more convincing that it could be him. Yet Jeremy still flip flopped back and forth. "I, uh… Guess the situation- if both are, I guess, know what they're getting into? Shouldn't be anything wrong… Unless one of them is already in a relationship." Maybe it was about Natalie? She was the only female human that Foxy knew. "It's not- personally I don't think it's wrong… I can't talk for everyone. It's a special case."
"Aye. We ain't the normal moving machines," Foxy quietly agreed, somewhat lost in thought. "Normal animatronics don't feel a thing, but we do… Guess it ain't that wrong. 'Specially from our side; feels… Almost human." And he was back to sounding like he was talking about someone else. Bouncing back and forth, Jeremy slowed his scrubbing just a little.
"Foxy, is this about you or Mari?" Jeremy asked it before he really thought it through. Almost immediately, Foxy's head snapped to the side and there was that dead gaze upon him.
"Who told you? Mari?" Foxy almost demanded in a low, suspicious question. Unfortunately, Foxy had still not provided enough evidence for Jeremy to deduce and answer the question.
"…No. Nobody, I just sort noticed on my own," Jeremy answered. Technically, it wasn't a lie, but it was a stretch.
"Hmm…" Foxy considered this and then followed with a sigh. "Then it was me who di'n't notice… I be as blind as if I have two eyepatches." He then turned to the human, laying his hand on his shoulder. "If it be any consolation, Lad, between the two of you, I would've chose you." He was being honest and yet, without context, Jeremy could only stare as a creeping blush started to spread out across his face. "Yer bright, yer helpful… Yer not wearing yer glasses?" Foxy suddenly noticed it and tilted his head a bit. "Where's yer glasses?"
"Broke," Jeremy managed to get out. He subconsciously started to raise his hand to fix the absent glasses, but managed to stop himself.
"Eh, you look fine without them," Foxy remarked, patting Jeremy's shoulders. "But thanks. It don't seem like much, but I need to hear it. Just… Need to know that something like this won't get us shunned." With that, Foxy suddenly straightened and regained his more confident tone. "Now let's be shoving off to the kitchen. We best be gettin' everything ship-shape before the kids start pourin' in!" the captain announced in a much more jovial tone. He stepped out of the bathroom while Jeremy followed.
"I'm… We're not done, you know. There's still chocolate on your- everywhere," Jeremy forced out. He had no idea what he was supposed to take from their conversation, but something about it all left him feeling a little too strange. It was just not the conversation that he was prepared to give. "Thank goodness Baby didn't eat anything. At least we know how to clean you."
"Baby ate three sticks o' butter and a half a dozen eggs. Ya just got lucky that you couldn't see it on 'er," Foxy corrected in amusement. He could only chuckle as he heard Jeremy's choking response.
Such a good first mate, taking care of his captain; Foxy considered absentmindedly as he prepared himself to be back on stage again. It was a shame that Marionette hadn't been interested in him, but maybe it was for the best. Maybe Foxy would put him together with Baby… Maybe Foxy would just keep him to himself.
The day off had gotten Mike back into gear. It was almost surprising what a single day off could do to lift one's spirits, but it had worked like a charm. The phone stayed off, the world was shut out, and it was just the two of them. Mike needed it much more than he realized. Even now, putting on his uniform, he felt completely comfortable in going back to work. If anything, he was looking forward to it. While finishing up with the closet, his eyes landed on one of his boxes that was left unemptied.
He leaned over and nudged the box open, glancing through the stuff before his eyes landed on something. His old Walkman was sitting abandoned in the box. While Mike hadn't lost any interest in music, he had lost interest in the Walkman quite some time ago. With an amused smile, he fished it and a connected pair of headphones out of the cardboard box, and carried it out into the living room. Just because he couldn't use them didn't mean that they couldn't be used.
Marionette was scribbling something down on his drawing pad. It looked like the beginnings to some sort of plush toy design, but Mike didn't get much of a look before he leaned over the back of the couch. He handed over the Walkman, "Hold this." The Puppet took the machine and blankly stared at it in his hand, before flinching as something started to slide over his head. "Relax. I don't need you popping before work," Mike playfully remarked as he slid the headphones into place. "Now I need that back for a second."
As the Walkman was handed back, Mike stopped his hand and started to point out the various buttons. "This turns it on. This pops the top so you can change cassettes. This dial controls the volume. The batteries might be dead in it and the music's probably awful, but let's see if we can get it on anyway." Thankfully, sitting in the box hadn't drained what was left of the batteries, so the Walkman was very capable of coming on. He couldn't hear the music himself, but the moment that Marionette started to chime he knew it was on.
Over the last day, something had finally dawned on Mike. As much as the Puppet spoke and sung, it was these chimes and chirps that came most naturally to him. He could fake his voice's tone and emotion, but the chimes and static were always consistent. Maybe this was why he could mimic voices so well.
This thought on voices originally went back to his phone. With a weary sigh, he went to turn it on. He knew that his mother had probably called at least a dozen times in the span of the last day. Not that it was going to stop. By opening the doors of communication, Mike had unfortunately left himself open to his mother's efforts to rekindle their relationship, whether Mike was confident in it or not. After all, he didn't really trust anyone in his family, except maybe his grandparents; though even they had somehow told their aunt about where he worked.
And most importantly, Mike didn't want to get invested in his mother if she was just going to have a later issue and end all communication. If he knew about what he had done in the last year alone, she would probably become extremely wary of him. At least she would call less and then Mike wouldn't be the one who had to worry about all these possibilities. Though it wasn't as though he could just tell his mother that he worked at a haunted pizzeria or that he was courting a sock monkey.
Then it suddenly went full circle as Mike looked over towards Marionette. He headed over and sat down in the armchair, looking towards the animatronic. He now rested a hand on the headphones while the other had returned to eagerly sketching. He began to softly chime in sync with the music that Mike couldn't hear. It was all so innocent, but Marionette had proved that he didn't have to be. After all, he had faked a voice to lie to Fritz, but he wouldn't have to go that far to challenge Mike's mother's determination.
He let the plan form for a few minutes and saw no immediate drawbacks. If his mother really wanted such a close relationship, then she would be willing to accept his choices. It was the perfect challenge and, either way, he would come out in a better position. He bided his time as he prepared to leave and didn't confront the Puppet about the idea until they were in the car. Mike gave a few nudges to the blanket in the backseat, "Can you do me a favor?" He repeated the question again once the Puppet had slipped off the headphones.
"Certainly," Marionette responded. He didn't expect the human to hand him his cellphone.
"Mom's going to probably call in the next couple of hours. I just need you to answer the phone and say that we're dating," Mike quickly explained. Then he turned forward, as though it was nothing, and started to car.
"…I'm sorry?" Marionette seemed dumbstruck. "You want me to answer the phone for you and… I don't understand."
"Trust me, I know what I'm doing," Mike assured, a slight smirk on his lips. "We'll see firsthand how loyal Mom's willing to be."
"I…" The Puppet didn't exactly know what to say to answer this. "Mike, maybe this is something you should tell your mother yourself." As thrilled as he was that Mike was willing to label their relationship in such a positive light, he wasn't sure how well this plan would work. "She may find it strange that I have your phone and am answering for you. Or worse- This is something you should tell her outright… Or just be honest and tell her she's calling too much."
"I'm not having her cry on me again. You're a stranger, so she's not going to cry on the phone with you. I know it's a lot to ask, but I don't want to get any closer without knowing if she's going to have an issue," Mike revealed, his confidence lessening just a bit. After all, getting her to call less was only a small issue. There was a bigger deal involving trust that needed to be handled. "Please?"
"…Alright, I will," Marionette agreed. He absentmindedly trailed his fingers over the buttons of the phone. "I'll tell her we'll together, she'll know I'm male, and we'll wait on me being a puppet."
"Hopefully until I have something incriminating on her," Mike muttered absentmindedly. After that, Marionette returned to the Walkman and they finished the drive to the Pizzeria.
Jeremy was already there, but Fritz and Natalie hadn't arrived yet. Set up was virtually easy, though the cakes in the fridge had mysteriously vanished and had to be baked again. There was more than enough time to do this and the final fixing of the kitchen. Mike had a feeling that something trashed the kitchen, but Jeremy was remarkably silent on what he knew. Then Natalie appeared at the pizzeria with less than devastating news.
"Fritz won't be joining us," Natalie revealed to her coworkers. "His voice was completely gone, he kept coughing; I just told him not to come in." She didn't notice the look that Mike and Jeremy sent to each other.
"I'll call him later to send my regards," Jeremy suggested with a small smile.
"So, we should expect you to come down with a mysterious illness in the next week?" Mike playfully quipped.
"Probably, yeah. Just in case, I ate a couple of oranges for breakfast. Maybe it'll help," Natalie responded, fully unfazed by Mike's comment. He raised a brow and she managed to catch the gesture. "What? You both know that Fritz and I are together. In fact, Mike, you were the one suggesting that we started living together." An amused smile passed her face. "If anyone should feel awkward, it should be you two, right? You're both single." She was more than willing to turn the tables.
"I literally just got out of a relationship," Mike pointed out. "As for Jeremy, he's owned by his animatronics." He sort of expected one of them to butt-in with a Fritz-esque remark, but they didn't. Instead, Jeremy decided to be honest.
"That's not too far from the truth… Things at the house have been really tense and the Minireenas are still just as angry as ever. Nothing I do helps," Jeremy vented towards the two. He decided to entirely leave out him continued confusion from earlier with Foxy. From afar, it was plainly obvious that he was having some sort of issue with nearly every animatronic, save Marionette. Unless Foxy's conversation early involved him, which Jeremy truly couldn't tell of or not. It was then that a new voice broke in.
"I know plenty about them," Baby volunteered from a few feet away, situation, again, behind Jeremy. He wondered how long she had been there, but shrugged it off as the clown decided to inject herself into the conversation without invitation. "They were Ballora's and I was very close to Ballora for a very long time."
"Really? I could use all the help I could get, if you have any ideas." Jeremy jumped at the idea regardless of how uncomfortable he felt with the large female. After all, he didn't have to go home with Baby, but he couldn't outrun the Minireenas. As he turned his attention on her, Mike listened briefly before going to open the business, and Natalie soon followed suite.
"Even though she was a dancer, Ballora spent most of her time lost in song. I can only suppose that the Minireenas would be comforted if they could hear her song again. Maybe if you sung it, they would become attached to you," Baby suggested quietly. She sounded rather confident in the idea. "I remember the song. She was-… Oh…" Suddenly, Baby cut off, and Jeremy's desperation kicked in further.
"What's the song?" Jeremy pried further. "Please, Baby, I need this. They're going to smother me in my sleep."
"I… I can't…" Her blue eyes were fixated on the other side of the dining room. "Children." Looking back, Jeremy watched as a man and a couple of children walked into the restaurant. Natalie tended to them immediately, but it was obvious that Baby wouldn't be able to help with them here.
"They don't see you yet. They're probably not even coming over here- Look, Foxy's already on stage," Jeremy pointed out as Foxy stepped out past the curtain. "Just the first couple of lines?"
"I can't…" Baby's eyes started to dart around as her plates started to shift uncomfortably. "I can't do this- Too tight. This- can't move- too tight." Her plates scraped together as she started to become frantic. It was now that Jeremy realized that they had more problems than just her not being able to speak.
"D-Do you want to step into the kitchen? They won't follow you in there," Jeremy suggested. For a moment, it seemed like Baby considered this option, but this suddenly came to a striking halt when her head dropped. Her arms went limp, she faced the ground, and everything went entirely still. There was a settling noise inside of her large frame, but she went entirely unresponsive. "Baby?" Now he was the one panicking. The one day an animatronic broke down and Fritz couldn't be in. "Oh no… Baby, can you- can you hear me?"
"I can't move," Baby quietly whispered. Her voice then became much firmer, "I can't move."
"Okay, then just… Uh… Just stand here? I can throw a sheet over you and just- you don't have to move."
"Please do," Baby insisted. Jeremy hurried off to get one of the spare table clothes and returned fast enough to cover her. Thankfully, the only two children had yet to notice her, as Foxy was keeping them distracted rather well. Once she was covered and secure, she whispered out to him again. "Come close." He was hesitant. "I can't speak louder. You must come closer," Baby assured. Finally, the man moved in a little closer, with his ear inches away from Baby's unmoving mouth. He stayed there as she whispered every lyric.
The day continued onwards without Baby. The postponed birthday party finally took place, children were in and out of the prize corner, tokens circulated through the arcade, and the buzz of a successful day kept morale rather high. Marionette was having a rather good day himself. When he wasn't tending to children, he was back to looking at the plushies and contemplating what designs he wanted to suggest to the others.
Then the Toreador March started to ring from his box. Out of reflex, his eyes darted to the music player, but then he remembered the cell phone. He dropped into his box and quickly teleported into the office. He knew that the chance of it being Mike's mother was extremely high and braced himself. He still wasn't sure of how morally correct this would be, but he knew that he wouldn't be lying. Unless he had to bluntly say that he was human and, even then, it wasn't the worst lie.
No, instead he wondered if rocking the boat was appropriate now. Mike and his mother only just started talking… But he would rather him do this and get the reaction than Mike telling his mother and risking a bad reaction. Nobody, not even Mike, wanted to hear their parent's disapproval. Marionette knew this well enough.
Then he answered the call. "Hello?"
"Hello. Is Michael there?" It was definitely her. She sounded like a woman in her forties, give or take a few years, and sounded rather friendly. He was second guessing this entire plan even more.
"I'm sorry, he's working right now," Marionette excused. "He just left his phone with me for the moment… Is this his mother?" He couldn't help but let an eager curiosity filter through. "He was mentioning that he needed to call you back. The last few days have been rough with the weather and all." A proper excuse was needed, considering that Mike had kept his phone off for nearly two days.
"Yes, I saw on the news! We don't usually get tornados this early in the year. I wanted to make sure that he was alright," she explained. "I'm Isabelle Schmidt."
"It's very nice to finally meet you, even if it's just over the phone," Marionette chirped as he began to hover across the small office in a pacing fashion. "Marion Afton. Mike and I… Are very close." First attempt and he couldn't get it out. Then again, it could've been because 'Afton' slipped out before he could even control it. Almost immediately he wished that he would've said another as he knew he was now stuck with it; an understatement.
"Oh? I don't think he mentioned you, but Mike hasn't mentioned too many of his friends," Isabelle explained with a slight tinge of sadness on her voice. "How is he?"
"Stubborn, but that's nothing new," Marionette reflexively dipped into playfulness. There was instant relief as she gave a short laugh in response. "Mike's never been really open with his feelings."
"No, no, but I've been out of the loop as well. I have nobody to blame but myself," she insisted. Though suddenly her tone shifted to surprise, "Wait, you said your name was Marion?"
"Yes…" Marionette's voice was starting to catch. "Did Mike mention me?" Mike probably should've told him that beforehand. Then again, it was a clever decoy; Isabelle would've assumed that someone named 'Marion' was female. Some girl in her twenties who looked like Louise and spent her time doing wholesome activities.
"He did, but I-." Then Isabelle went silent and he assumed that it finally sunk in. The silence was awkward, but at least she completely bought that he was a human. That would've been a much stranger conversation. After a few moments, Isabelle managed to speak again.
"You and Michael are… He said that he was in a relationship with a girl named Marion," Isabelle pieced together. "Or, no- I just assumed…"
"He isn't really open with anything," Marionette somewhat defended. It wasn't as though there was much else to say than that. "I'm sorry he didn't tell you."
"No! Don't be sorry. I wasn't paying enough attention," the woman assured. "And I was so worried about his health that I wasn't asking questions. I missed out on so much of his life… I cheated myself out of the chance to see him finish growing up. I barely know him now." There came the lamentation, the sadness, but not anger. At least it wasn't anger. Marionette didn't know how to handle anger.
"Maybe he was afraid to say anything because he was afraid you'd react badly?" Marionette suggested. Indeed, he still felt a little anxious, worrying that she would suddenly go into a frenzy. "Sometimes… Mike tries to avoid conflict. Even when it means making questionable decisions."
"I hope not. I hope Michael knows that I would agree to any of his choices. It's his life; I'm just content being a part of it," Isabelle assured. She still seemed surprised, but her fear of losing Mike was evident. From what he was hearing, it seemed like Mike's idea to lose his mother was simply not going to work. "It was very nice speaking to you. Would you please tell Michael I called?"
"As soon as I can," Marionette assured. Then he lingered on the phone, pausing, and only then made a bold suggestion. "We should be home about seven or eight o'clock if you would like to call back."
"I will. Thank you so much," Isabelle spoke with a slightly happier tone. "It really was nice speaking with you, Marion. I hope we get to meet very soon."
"I do as well. Have a nice day," The moment that Marionette ended the call, he realized that he had put himself in a corner. He had just willingly agreed to eventually meet Mike's mother when he clearly couldn't. For some time, he could only stare at the wall and try to pretend that he didn't just make an extremely stupid mistake. He just stood there and revaluated what he had said and wondered how much of it she had bought.
It was the office phone ringing that eventually pulled him out of his trance. He knew he had to return to his box, that children were waiting, and he listened to the sound of approaching footsteps. Before the door could fully open he had already identified the familiar feeling; it was Mike. It didn't look like he was expecting Marionette though, from the confusion on his face. The Puppet pointed out the cell phone and set it down on the desk; Isabelle wouldn't be calling for a while, so he didn't need to take it with him.
Mike answered the office phone and Marionette teleported out, deciding that he didn't have enough time or energy to recite the call. As expected, a line of children were already waiting for him, so it was easy to get lost in his work. For now, he wouldn't worry about Mike's mother or Mike's relationship with her. He had more important things to worry about.
Marion Afton could worry about family drama later; Marionette had a task to do.
Mable: I'm preparing for a new poll in the future, but I have a request for my dear readers. If you are planning to review, I'd like to hear your opinion of Baby, and see what the consensus is. I mean, it's sort of early, but it's never too soon to get a lay of the land. Anyway, thank you for reading! I will try to get this updating thing back on track. While I can't guarantee a Saturday posting, I can assure that it will be next week. At least I'm able to get around seven days?... I'll figure this out. See you at the next update!