Mable: Sorry about the delay on this chapter. I won't go into it, but I've been forced away from the computer more than I would like, so I've had less time to type. So sorry again about that and I hope you Enjoy!

Can't Go Home Again

Chapter Sixty-Four

"Foxy?"

Foxy raised his head and looked over towards the curtain. Slowly, the curtains were pushed open, revealing Marionette standing on the other side. The captain's ears perked. "Come in, Lad. What's on your mind?" As though he didn't know that it was either the rival arcade or Baby. The Puppet hovered closer before lowering himself into a comfortable kneel and attentively looking up at Foxy.

"A lot of things are on my mind," Marionette admitted as he folded his hands in his lap. "And yours?"

"I'll spare ya my concerns," Foxy remarked. The last thing he wanted was to put his concern on the younger male. Though he was itching to say something, anything, and they had an endless line of topics it seemed. It was a matter of the lesser of three evils. "Whaddya think of the new gal?"

"I didn't see much of her, but she didn't seem threatening. Mothers typically aren't a concern for us… And Mike seems confident in her. I trust Mike; he doesn't see in purple," Marionette pointed out. While Foxy had mixed feelings on Mike, he had to agree that he trusted Mike's intention a bit more than others. More specifically, more than he ever trusted any gold colored bears. "And you?"

"Glad it's a woman, honestly. Might sound weird, but I've never seen a purple woman runnin' around," Foxy remarked. "We'll just keep out of the kitchen during the day. Think we can manage."

"If you don't destroy the kitchen again," Marionette remarked with a chime. Most likely, Jeremy had mentioned that part, as all Foxy had said to him was his awe in how he could still taste. The striped animatronic then decided to change topics. "What do you think about Hickory Dickory Doc's? It's surprising to hear about another animatronic chain. Especially one with animatronics that looked so put together."

Indeed, the closest comparison would've been the toy animatronics. The few animatronics they had seen had that cartoonish bubbly look to them, with a mix of fabric bodies and plastic or latex looking shiny faces. The three mice were uncanny, but more so in how real they looked in comparison to something like Chipper's. That being said, there was no evidence that they were alive, and it was very possible that they were normal animatronics. The only thing that contradicted this was Mike's claim.

"I dunno what I think," Foxy admitted. "Could be nothing, could be something. They certainly don't got a rep like Freddy's."

"That's true… Sometimes I just wonder- I just worry there are more like us out there. We know that he had plenty of time to more around," Marionette remarked. He did seem rather concerned by the situation.

"Can't be. You'd know," Foxy pointed out. Marionette looked upwards at him with a tilt of his head. "You put 'em in. You brought us back. You'd remember bringin' a bunch o' mice back."

"That's true… And I didn't," Marionette murmured. He fiddled his hands together, obviously bothered by something. "…But I don't know what Goldie did without me."

"Goldie only did it once, then he needed you. I don't think he could'a done anything without you… Don't think he would've cared enough." Foxy didn't mean to make comments like this in front of the Puppet, knowing how defensive he would get. To his surprise, the younger's answer was different.

"Honestly, I don't think he cared much about anything other than his own goals. Goldie only wanted more of us because he needed more toy soldiers." Marionette cast his gaze back towards the floor once more. He hated admitting it, but he had to say it. "Goldie kept me in the dark just as much as he kept you and the others… I just didn't know it at the time."

"I'm sorry, Lad," Foxy's ears lowered. "I should've let it drop."

"I brought it up… I needed to," Marionette admitted. A few awkward moments passed before he gave an amused chime. Whether it was forced with arguable, but he managed to get it out. "And now we're dealing with literal bilge rats." It took a moment for it to sink in, but once it did it got a chuckle out of Foxy.

"Ah, we've dealt with rats before. We'll throw 'em to the sharks!" Foxy confidently bolstered. He wasn't worried about competition with how well business had been going.

"They won't even know what's coming," Marionette agreed with a curt nod.

"They don't even serve pizza! What kinda animatronic restaurant doesn't serve pizza an' cake?" It felt so good to not leave an opening to talk about Baby. "We got this, Lad. They be small fish in a barrel; we're a ship at sea. We're goin' places." Letting his confidence take hold, he leaned forward and reached out for the striped male, laying his hand on his head. He always felt this sort of hesitation to touching him, as though he would break him, but Marionette's content smile welcomed the affection.

Unfortunately, this immediately led into a strange silence. Foxy knew this silence. He knew that Marionette was winding up to say something.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," Marionette defended quietly. "And I don't want to ruin this, because we don't spend enough time just you and I…" Foxy nodded and Marionette laced his fingers together, obviously hesitant. "…But could you tell me about our sister? I can't remember much about her." The way he worded it almost gave the impression that he was ignoring Baby existed at all. Perhaps it was out of denial, but Foxy found that he preferred it this way as well. "We've been through so much…"

"Aye, we have," Foxy agreed as he crossed his arms. He leaned back against the wall and relaxed himself for what was coming. "She was nice. A little spoiled, could be a brat sometimes, but she was a good kid…" His accent started to slip and he allowed himself to relax further out of character. "Da- He really gave her everything she wanted. Maybe 'cause she reminded him of Mom."

"Was she like Mom?" Marionette quietly asked as he moved closer. In a particularly bold move, he rested his head on Foxy's leg. He was particularly needy for affection and the older was surprised by it. He laid his hand on the Puppet's- no. He laid his hand on his brother's back.

"Nah. She was a good kid, but she wasn't like Mom," Foxy assured. "…You were like Mom." This received a soft tune of delight from the Puppet. Foxy chuckled and continued to rub the black fabric. "But we got into trouble. Remember that time I was out trying to live in the backyard? One day I go out there and there's a tent set up. I peek in and there she is, sitting in a tent, coloring in a coloring book. Next thing I know, she's got me making monster noises outside the tent while she's playing real life sit 'n survive-."

Much easier than talking about Baby. Much, much easier.

Scott didn't expect the sound of a turning doorknob. Immediately he dropped the remote and clutched onto the arms of his chair. It was late, about ten o'clock at night, and it was trying to come in through the garage door. Once it realized the door was locked it took a moment to pause. Then, twenty seconds later, it gave a small knock.

"…Hello?" Scott called over in a barely steady tone.

"Would you let me in?" it asked through the door. "I want to see inside your house again." It sounded so 'innocent' in its wording, but its question had floored the man.

"I… I don't understand, you- are you in your body?" he choked out. He hoped that it was. He truly hoped that it was still hiding inside of the Baby shell, acting like an innocent girl in a suit.

"Not anymore," it responded. "I don't stay in the body at night- not if I can get out. Would you let me out?" There was a wire scraping noise on the wood of the door. "Please? I'll be good."

"I-I can't… You- I can't trust you," Scott admitted. "You lied to Fritz. You pretended to be me. That's-… That's terrifying." He didn't want to express any sort of weakness to this thing, but he did regardless. This managed to quiet it down for a couple of moments. Though it wasn't long before it shifted against the door again.

"I didn't want him to come over and see me," it admitted. "I couldn't fix myself fast enough, if he came over. Please? I promise that I won't hurt you. I'm not like the others. I won't hurt you." The pleading continued mercilessly in that false, feminine voice. That voice that could be a lie in and of itself. First and foremost, Scott wanted answers, so he reluctantly stood and headed to the door.

"Go… Go back against the wall… Don't come any close and… I'll open the door," Scott bartered. He could hear its footsteps and waited until they stopped before opening the door. There, on the far side of the garage, it stood watching him. Again, it was a body of wires wearing a pale mask, and he felt unsafe under its gaze. They stared at each other for a few minutes. Its wires twitched and his hands shook in response. "…Why?"

"…Why what?"

"Why this?" Scott forced out. "Why are you out of your body? Why is your body like this? I don't understand- endoskeleton- you're supposed to be- and the mask! What is the mask?! You already have a face right there!" He pointed to the body of Baby. "And you faked my voice to make excuses to Fritz!"

"There's a part inside me that lets me change my voice," the wire animatronic admitted. "I didn't want him coming to see me like this…"

"You didn't answer my question," Scott pointed out. He regained his nerve and managed to hold his ground against this towering… thing. It had to be seven foot tall. If it wasn't as tall as Baby's massive body, then it was close. At least it was slimmer, which made it look slightly smaller. Though this had its own downsides as it could now slip through the door. He wondered if it only left its body to climb through the door. "Why are you out of your body?"

It didn't seem to know how to respond. It spent a long time staring and twitching, concocting some sort of an answer, and even second made Scott even more wary. "I don't like it," it admitted finally. "I don't want to stay in that body when I don't have to." Something about the way it said this, so easily, made it all more uncomfortable. "It… Doesn't feel like my body." It reached upwards and fussed with some of the wires on its chest, which he only now noticed were shaped like a bow. It tugged at them like tightening a bow.

That would've been a cute gesture if literally anything else had done it. It was too tall and too strange looking. "Please let me in? I'm safe."

"I can't," Scott insisted. "You're-… I can't."

"But why not?" It must have noticed its mistake before Scott even could. That slight exasperation, that slight desperation, slipped out with a tensing of its voice. Right afterwards its voice dropped back to the soothing sweetness of an innocent girl. "Wait, no-."

"I can't," Scott got out as he stepped backwards though the door again. All it took was that one moment of frustration and his nerve dropped out of existence. "I'm sorry." Then he shut the door and fumbled with the lock. Now with the door secure and it blocked out in the garage, the man was now left with his thoughts. Left with all the cold, heavy thoughts. It was nighttime; he couldn't work, he couldn't go anywhere, and he was trapped with nothing to distract him from these thoughts.

It didn't help that the animatronic refused to stay silent.

Eventually he could hear it trying the doorknob. They both knew that it could break through the flimsy knob, yet it didn't do so, and it instead called to him, and it pleaded, and he was slowly being broken down.

"Please, let me out."

"I just want to see what's out there."

"I won't touch anything. I won't hurt you."

"I don't want to be in this room anymore."

"I'm tired of being hidden away."

And it was becoming more relentless. Eventually, Scott had to escape to his bedroom just to ignore the calls. Indeed, as he shut the bedroom door, and locked it, he couldn't hear any more of the words. That didn't mean that he could escape himself.

What had Afton done to this thing? Or better still, why did he build it- if he did build it. He couldn't even say for sure if it was still Baby; it had the voice, but everything else was foreign. This was a monster; a broken, corrupted bundle of wires that formed a mass that tried to look like a normal animatronic. That lied about being the innocent 'Baby'. Then there was Baby itself; a passion project that failed right around the time that his daughter had gone 'missing'.

"Unless- No. He- He couldn't have. Not to her."

Scott knew better than to pity it, but he couldn't help it. Nobody deserved what Afton could do. He was brutal and he had little empathy for anyone other than himself. He could treat someone like he loved them, but then throw them away at the drop of a hat. Or worse, as Scott had learned. William Afton had a hidden side to him and if he wanted someone gone then they would suddenly have an 'accident'. Sometimes, he wondered about Henry's death.

Recently, he started wondering about his sons' deaths. Right now, he was questioning his daughter's 'disappearance'. People didn't just 'disappear' around William.

…And Scott knew that William didn't treat the animatronics well. Long ago, he used to think that it was solely a reaction from the animatronics' aggression. He knew about his youngest and the bite, so it made sense that William would hold a grudge against the machines. Scott eventually concluded that the animatronics were haunted; it wasn't surprising in hindsight, as everyone eventually realized it for themselves. William had to know it as well. Perhaps this was even the reason he despised the animatronics so much, hating that they were walking evidence.

He couldn't imagine what William would've done to animatronics being kept at his private building. He could've experimented on them, he could've tortured them. What was worse was that Scott knew that he would. William would've only been inspired if he realized that they could feel what he was doing. He loved to hurt those that he had control over.

Look at where working with William had gotten him in the end. The scars on the outside were nothing compared to the effects that had been done on the inside. His shaking wasn't just from nerves anymore.

…He couldn't stay awake for this. He didn't even want to think of the man any longer. Instead, he had to make a choice.

Scott got everything in order, fed the kitten, and then proceeded to stand outside the garage door yet again. Clutching his robe to him, he spoke through the door. "It's me again." His voice was shaky. He could hear movement low on the other side of the door. As though the animatronic was sitting on the floor. "Just a few things. First…Did… Did you still want me to call you Baby?" It took a few moments for a response. His breathing was labored and he tried to suppress the shudders that threatened to irritate his shot nerves even more.

"No," it answered. Same voice, lower volume. "…I want to be called Ennard. That's what I was named."

"Okay," Scott stretched out. He wished that he wouldn't have asked. "What would you do if you were out here?"

"…I don't know," Ennard admitted. It shifted against the door and turned to face it, probably pressing its face into the wood. "But there's nothing to do in here."

"Right…" The man brushed his fingers over the brass lock of the door. "So, uh, I'm going to bed now and I… Here, let me-," he unlocked the door, "-get that for you."

He could hear the thing, Ennard, straighten against the door. Perhaps out of surprise.

"I-I'm going to bed and I'm locking my door. You can just do whatever… Just don't call anyone. Or leave the house." With that, he turned and hurried away from the garage the door. Thankfully, it didn't come out until he was inside his bedroom with the door locked behind him.

This was a mistake and he knew it. He just needed the relief from the nagging guilt. He just wanted to know that he could do something to spite Afton one last time.

It was a victim, not a monster; just like he was. Scott kept telling himself this as he struggled to get any form of sleep.

The day after her arrival, Tabby had come in to work.

It became apparent rather quickly that the choice in hiring her was a good one. She worked quickly, she managed the entire kitchen without requesting help- in fact, she had turned down an offer from Jeremy to pitch in- and she didn't seem to notice Foxy and Marionette's peculiar behaviors. She tuned it all out and focused solely on doing her job. By closing time, she cleaned up the kitchen and left before the others did, leaving them to the party room and everything else.

She actually was moderately friendly while working. While she still had that air of 'eh' around her, she did manage to smile once or twice. By her third day working at the Pizzeria, Tabby was even so bold as to start suggesting menu changes. Being that all three of the human co-owners were rather inexperienced in the cooking portion of the restaurant, they agreed, and Natalie took some time out of her schedule to offer suggestions in comparison to what she had seen while briefly working in the field.

All in all, it was going rather well. Being that Baby had only been there for a day, there was no immediate financial loss and hadn't been more questions about where she had gone. Phone Guy kept in contact with Fritz and, from what Mike knew, Baby was fine with him for the time. This gave them longer to figure out where to put her. This also gave them a cushion of time for other things.

Specifically, Mike's incoming birthday, which had become the topic of conversation for everyone other than Mike himself.

Before this year, Mike's birthday usually involved one of two things. Either he would entirely ignore it and would be older the next day, or he would by a small cake and eat it while watching whatever awful late-night show was on TV. Sometimes he even skipped work on this day. Yet he didn't exclusively celebrate it and, as such, Marionette was now showing quite an interest. It made sense being that birthday parties were his job, and Mike was passively willing to do whatever the Puppet wanted just so that he could, again, sail through the day.

It was an evening after a long workday and the coming day was off in the back of Mike's mind. He had more important things to concern himself with. With Marionette curled on the couch underneath the lamp reading, Mike had the urge to scoop him into his lap and steal his attention. Before he even got the chance, his phone rang.

"That's going to be about Phone Guy. He's going to actually be dead this time," Mike predicted as he took his cell phone from the coffee table and answered. "Hello?"

"Michael, hello! I'm glad I got ahold of you." The sweetly voice was his mother's and she sounded remarkably excited. "How was your day? How's Mari?"

"Long, tiring, and wearing me thin… My day was fine too." This received a nudge in the thigh from a striped leg. At least Mike knew now that Marionette was actively listening in. "What about you, Mom?"

"I'm fine. In fact, I was wondering if you would like to come visit next weekend." Of course, this would be the weekend that his birthday fell on. "Everyone would love to see you! We'll all get together and have a sort of family reunion. A big dinner and a little get together; what do you think? And, of course, Mari would be welcome to come." Unfortunately, she had no idea what she would've been agreeing to home.

"I don't know, I'm going to be working all week…" Mike began as he leaned back against the coach. "I'll have to be back on Sunday. That's a long drive for what's basically one day." Being that Sunday was his birthday also would make this complicated. She would want him to stay and celebrate when he already had unknown plans for the day.

"Well, you think about it. I would love to see you- we all would," Isabelle insisted. The conversation then switched to the basic fare. She asked questions, he answered, they chatted without any sort of aim, and it ended on relatively fine terms. Though Mike was attempting to get off the phone as quickly as possible. As glad as he was that his mother changed and was willing to be a family again, he had other things on his mind. Him having to visit estranged family members for his birthday was low on his list.

Once the call was ended, he decided to voice this. "That was Mom asking me about going and visiting, but you probably already know that," Mike remarked, a more playful tone at the end. "I wouldn't be surprised if you tapped my phone one of these days."

"I don't have to when you're sitting a foot away," Marionette answered. Something was very distant about his own voice. "Are you planning on going?"

"I don't know. There's nothing really to go back for. Mom's willing to drive here and nobody else, other than Lisa, has even tried calling me." He set the phone back down on the coffee table. "Is there a point in going?"

"There is if you want to go," the other insisted. He turned away from the lamp to face him. He looked surprisingly placid and his voice continued to sound a bit odd. It was almost vacant. "Do you want to go?"

"I'd have a better time staying here with you," Mike assured. Yet that question lingered there. The Puppet wanted an actual answer and Mike wasn't sure what that answer was. He hadn't seen these people in years and, even then, he wasn't that close with his family members. As they had distanced themselves from his mother during her 'depression', so had they distanced themselves from her son.

…And yet wouldn't it be great to show them how he had turned out. They had always pitied him for what happened to his parents, yet stood by idly and watched the disaster unfold. He couldn't help but think of how nice it would be to show up to a family reunion and tote that he owned a business. Even if he was only a co-owner, it was something to be proud of. Not only was it one of the only successful animatronic restaurants in the surrounding states- if Chipper's and Hickory Dickory's were any examples- but it was doing excellent in its first year of business.

He might have been a teenage runaway, but he had made something of himself. He passed tests that normal humans would die from, he survived feverish nights in a cage of an office, and he had more than enough to show for it. Perhaps it was worth going through the excess just to get that form of closure.

"…I don't know," Mike admitted. "What do you think? Is it worth it?"

"It probably would be. You haven't seen them in so long." Still, no change in his voice.

"Maybe I'll go. If I go now then I won't have to agree to Thanksgiving. I can avoid that mistake before I make it," Mike remarked as he considered it further. Then, finally, he went through with making his agreement. "Alright, sure, why the hell not? I don't get every day to guilt family members into free advertising. I'll take some merchandise and make an evening out of it."

"Then that makes it worth it." Marionette finally smiled, but it was his default smile. It was a fake smile and Mike knew it. He knew how much Marionette wanted him here and wanted to celebrate his birthday with him. All of his planning would suddenly be halted. Or at least, shifted until the next day. "Your mother will be very happy to have you!" He must have known that Mike noticed his faked behavior; he started forcing an upbeat tone to overcompensate. "You'll have to bring me back pictures!"

"I'm only going to be gone one night. I might not get enough time to take pictures," Mike pointed out. If anything, he wanted to assure the Puppet that it wouldn't be very long. He couldn't remember the last night that he had stayed out all night… In fact, he couldn't remember if he had since he moved in. It had to be before Marionette and he became this close. "You'll be fine without me?"

"I think I can manage one night," Marionette quipped back. Now there was real amusement, even if he was clearly covering some sort of disappointment. Setting his book aside, he slipped closer and clung to his human companion with all the neediness that he wouldn't admit to. "I'm not taking away you chance to have normal experiences. It's not fair to do that, and it's not fair for you to do that to yourself."

"That means I can't back out now that I've shown interest, doesn't it?" Mike asked as he brought the animatronic closer; perfectly fine with the clingy behavior. If only he could show him off. There would be a group of boring couples, standard couples, broken up by him bringing his one-of-a-kind puppet to show off. In a perfect world, he would be able to blackmail everyone into silence. "You're a tricky one, but I know how to pull your strings…" Then he pulled back, "Ghosts and Goblins?"

Nothing like a frustrating video game to numb away a couple of hours.

Mike didn't call his mother back that night. It seemed like something that could wait until morning, so the rest of the night went on relatively normal. Except that Marionette was, expectedly, a bit more focused on him. Mike expected this much and it continued through the following days. What he didn't expect was his growing anxiety that came after he called his mother and agreed to come. Every day the weight was just a little heavier and he considered backing out. He had the means to do so, he could've called her at any time, but he didn't.

Instead, Mike went through it like he did most things; by distracting himself with work. When he was at the Pizzeria he would take over the menial tasks that Jeremy would usually get to. Another attempt was made with Fritz at the warehouse. Though its fate as Baby's new home was obvious when they stepped inside; when they stepped from summery warmth into icy winter. After watching Fritz exhale a puff of smoke, Mike bluntly looked at him and gave a quick, "Let's get out of here." They hadn't gone back. Baby would need to wait.

At home, Mike continued his obsession with fixing the house for him being gone. One of the things he finally decided to do was get the house phone turned back on. It would be another bill, but he didn't like the idea of having Marionette at home without a means of communication. With the phone still being hooked up, this was relatively easy. He also then proceeded to write down every phone number that he could think of. Halfway through this process, he started to realize that he was acting like his mother. Or like she used to back before his father's passing.

As for Marionette, Mike could see that he was hiding his feelings towards the situation. His continuous remarks and questions about birthdays made it clear that he was still intending on planning something, even if he no longer had the morning. Unlike Mike, the night alone didn't seem to concern him, but the day following it did.

Then the morning came when Mike was due to leave. A rather miniscule deal to the Pizzeria, as it was a Saturday, but a seemingly massive change to the routine. Yet if Mike was being honest, the tightness in his stomach was not anxiety from leaving, but anxiety for what was to come. He went through the motions in getting dressed in a casual outfit, along with his watch. It would just be too weird to walk in dressed as a security guard, let alone a bright purple one. To remedy his lack of an identity he considered taking his badge, and eventually tossed it into his sparsely packed suitcase.

With exhaustion that could only come before an impending drive, he left the bedroom and headed to the front. Mike could tell the exact moment when Marionette appeared from his own room and started following him down the hall.

"I'll call you when I get there. If you don't hear from me for a few hours then I'm either in a ditch, or I chickened out at the last minute and am hiding in a dumpster somewhere," Mike spoke back as he went to grab his cell and keys. "I'd like to keep this quiet, so if Fritz or Jeremy calls then tell them I took the money and went to Vegas." He was now ready to leave, but due to Marionette's continued silence, he decided instead to take an extra moment. He looked over towards the animatronic, "Sure you're okay with this?"

The pause between him asking this and Marionette responding was at least five seconds too long. "Of course I am!" Marionette finally answered. "It's a shame that we don't get to spend all of your birthday together, or tonight, but I'm glad that you are getting to reconnect with your family."

"Just making sure. You've been quieter than usual," Mike pointed out.

"Really? I didn't even notice." Now there was the evidence he was lying. That was completely and utterly a 'cover up' comment. It seemed better just to brush it off than ask further.

"Then off I go," Mike announced in a faux dramatic fashion. Yet as he took another step towards the door, Marionette gave an almost desperate continuation.

"Make sure not to do that thing where you cringe when people sing 'Happy Birthday'," he forewarned. "The children don't care, but your mother might get the wrong idea."

"No promises. It's my birthday, I'll cringe if I want to," Mike smirked in response. "Just as long as I don't have to listen to Foxy's pirate rendition, I think I'm good." Then his smirk dropped into a smile. "Just a shame that I can't take you with me."

"As much as I would love to, I don't think we should risk it…" Indeed, it sounded like it physically hurt to say this. "But I will be waiting here for when you get back. Whether it be Sunday or later."

"What does that mean?" Mike latched on with a raise of his brow. He turned back towards the Puppet, who became defensive.

"I just meant that if you decide to stay later then I won't get in your way. I don't want to get in between you and your family." Now it was Mike who was staring. For a few moments, he contemplated the best way to say what he was going to. Then he just came out and said whatever came first.

"You're already being supportive. You don't have to be a martyr." Bluntness won out. Almost immediately, Marionette caved and finally, finally, it seemed like he had an honest smile. Even if it was only a slight one.

"Then be home on Sunday and I'll have something waiting for you," Marionette tempted. It would probably be cake, but it still seemed like a nice temptation. The Puppet slipped forwards and wrapped his arms around his companion, who returned the gesture after setting down his suitcase. "I'll miss you."

"I will," Mike assured. After briefly taking his lips, he gave him one last assurance, "I'll be safe. Take care of yourself while I'm gone."

Right before he was out the door, Marionette got out the final words that would be exchanged. "I love you, Mike." He smiled at the human as he closed the door and continued to his car.

It was every bit of power he had holding him back from immediately teleporting into Mike's car. He couldn't go, he knew this, and yet the separation anxiety was already setting in. Then the car pulled out and drove away, leaving Marionette alone in the house. The further the car got away, the less chance he had of catching up, and he stood there beside the front door until he knew Mike was too far gone to him to follow.

Attempting to recover, Marionette forced himself away from the door, headed to his bedroom, and climbed inside of his box. He needed the comfort that only a tight space filled with plush toys could provide. If he could just get through the first couple of hours without a hitch then he would be fine. At least he wouldn't be alone for days waiting for someone who would never come home.

In the meantime, he needed to rest while he could; he had a party to plan.

Mable: I've got a little update on my book, by the way. I've finally wrapped up chapter three and am starting the fourth chapter. It's a bit different from writing a fanfic, but I'm having a good time with it! ^-^ Anyway, the poll is going to be up for a couple more days, but I think I already got the results I need. The next chapter will be finished as soon as I can type it. I hope you enjoyed!