Mable: Here we are with the next chapter! I had some things I intended to say after a review I got last week, but I decided against it. It's just not worth dwelling on it. XD Let's just continue with the story. I hope you Enjoy!

Can't Go Home Again

Chapter Sixty-Six

Everything was restocked, everything looked in place, and Foxy was entertained enough for the evening. Thus, everything was ready for an easy Sunday and a possibly hectic Monday. With all that needed to be done finished, Jeremy was about ready to head home. No doubt his little, animatronic triplets would be waiting for him. Though Jeremy willingly arranged this weekend ritual. Foxy spent most of the weekend alone and, being that he was doted on as the 'first mate', it only made sense for him to come by anyway. It helped with getting started the next week.

It was a little after eleven o'clock. A little later than usual, but Foxy had been unusually clingy when he had tried to leave at ten. Now that he had the fox over at the arcade, having challenged him to beat some sort of unreachable score on one of the games, he was almost willing to quickly dismiss himself and hurry out the back. Foxy would get the hint and being as tough skinned as he was, probably wouldn't take it too poorly. Before Jeremy could even make the attempt, he heard the phone ringing in the office.

It was weird to get a call this late, so he assumed it was one of his coworkers. He stepped inside the room and answered the phone. "Hey. It's Jeremy here," he introduced as he waited for some sort of response. It was a familiar voice, but one that he had not expected to hear.

"Hello, hello, Jeremy! It's Scott, I was just… Checking to see if anyone was there. I thought that maybe you'd all be gone, but it turns out that you weren't! That's great." It was the Phone Guy, but something seemed a little off in his tone. Jeremy never remembered hearing the man this enthusiastic before. Though it was entirely possible that he was under the weather and delusional, as his voice sounded a bit scratchy.

"Yeah, just me. Cleaning up now before the big Monday rush." If there was a Monday rush. "So, I don't have to come back tomorrow. Just… Just me and Foxy… Something you needed? Were you looking for Fritz?"

"Actually, yes. I wanted to see if there had been any change with the warehouse. Just checking in on that, really. How's Foxy?" Either Mike or Fritz had said that the Phone Guy's favorite character was Foxy, so it wasn't too surprising that he would ask. That is, if Phone Guy didn't sound so weirdly comfortable.

"I don't really know. It didn't go well, but I didn't want to ask what they saw in there. It's… Unsettling." Jeremy coughed and moved to sit down in the office chair. "But Foxy's doing pretty well." There was an uncomfortable silence, as though he expected the man to say something more. "…And I'll be heading home soon, so I'm just wrapping everything up."

"How are the Minireenas doing?" Phone Guy asked curiously. "Are they still a handful?" Jeremy knew something odd was happening now. He hadn't told the Phone Guy anything about his Minireenas, nor his issues with them, and this all seemed rather suspicious. Foxy was now standing in the door, looking in expectantly.

"They're okay…" He covered the mouthpiece briefly. "It's Phone Guy… He's just acting a little weird."

"Is it Baby?" Foxy's voice was blunt and his tone was absent.

"Umm, no, it's Phone Guy-."

"Is it Baby using his voice?" Foxy specifically asked, suspicious in his tone. His voice sounded dangerously low. Jeremy felt his anxiety kick in; he wasn't sure if he could handle Foxy sprinting to Phone Guy's house to fight Baby. "I know she's there. Is that her?"

"I'll-I'll check… Hey, Scott?" Jeremy removed his hand to speak. "This is kind of funny, but Foxy's here and he's asking about you."

"He is? What is he saying?" Phone Guy asked eagerly.

"He's… Are you Baby?" There was a resounding thump as a phone slammed down on a receiver, ending the call. "Hello? Scott?... Oh." Jeremy slowly lowered down the phone. "I… Think it was Baby."

"I knew it," Foxy snarled.

"Y-Yeah, something was wrong. Scott doesn't usually call to ask about you and the girls- Daisy and the others," Jeremy agreed as he looked back towards the fox. "…Are you okay?" The animatronic twitched in response. "Want to talk about it?"

"There ain't nothing to talk 'bout, Lad. She hung up. An' if she didn't, I woulda," Foxy insisted with a stubborn tone as he headed back out into the dining room. Jeremy set the phone back in its receiver and followed the animatronic out. It was about time to wrap the evening up anyway, even if he was concerned with leaving the other alone now.

"I guess I'm going to head home now," Jeremy suggested. Foxy turned back towards him and watched him without words. "Everyone's probably getting worried and I- If I stay up too late then I won't get up tomorrow, and if I don't get up tomorrow then I'll have a heck of a time trying to get up on Monday." He couldn't help but babble a little bit. That had been such an uncomfortable conversation, especially since he now knew that Baby was willing to fake her voice and pretend to be someone else. Things like that unnerved him.

"Ya sure? Ya don't have to go on me account, Lad. I ain't gonna dwell on Baby," Foxy reminded as he watched Jeremy fumble.

"It's not Baby, it's just late and I'd have to go anyway. I couldn't just spend the night here… I don't think the office couch is much of a bed, no matter what Mike says," Jeremy insisted with a smile. He started over towards the front doors and tried not to give the illusion of being shaken.

"Ya ain't scared of her, are ya?" Foxy randomly inquired. It was enough to cause Jeremy to halt in his tracks.

"…Of Baby? No, no. She couldn't- She's huge and slow, no. I just… It really makes me uneasy that it sounded so much like him…" Then Jeremy looked over at Foxy. Confusion stretched across his face and he hesitated, as though uncertain whether or not to continue speaking. "Foxy, are you able to change your voice? You- I know you wouldn't do that-."

"I can't," Foxy denied immediately. "It's hard enough keepin' this accent all the time." Jeremy already knew about Foxy 'falling out of character'. He had witnessed it for himself back during winter, back when Foxy had his episode. Though Foxy was careful to not let this happen again.

"You don't always have to be in character with us, you know," Jeremy reminded hesitantly. He regretted the words towards the end and hoped he wouldn't offend the animatronic. The last thing anyone needed was a defensive Foxy, but Foxy seemed remarkably mellow, even after the call from Baby.

"Eh, it's easier. I be Captain Foxy, I need to always be ready fer a fight!" Foxy dramatically recited as he raised his claw. He hesitated and then gave a stiff shrug, adding in, "And it be weird if I start droppin' back into someone I ain't."

"I guess so…" That didn't mean that Jeremy wasn't somewhat curious about this other side of Foxy. It felt like Foxy was both the most honest about his feelings, but the most disingenuous about his identity. Then again, Jeremy didn't want to push too hard, because Foxy seemed content with how he was. "Try not to go crazy tonight," he forewarned before giving a dismissive wave and shutting the door, locking it behind him.

It wasn't long before Jeremy was unlocking his front door. He tiredly stepped in and looked around the living room. "I'm home," he called out. Almost immediately, Daisy scurried over and grabbed ahold of his pant leg, tugging it desperately. "What's wrong?" The Minireena hurried back towards the hallway and Jeremy followed her in strides.

There in the hall was Forget-Me-Not on top of Rose, smacking her tiny hands down at the doll. Rose responded by tugging at the upper doll's dress and kicking her legs. Max watched from nearby and made no effort to stop the fight.

"Hey, stop!" Jeremy called out as he hurried in. "Stop that! No fighting!" He wrapped his hand around Forget-Me-Not's middle and pulled her off. She squirmed in his grasp while Rose sprung to her feet and hurried off towards the bedroom. "Why- I don't get it, why are you fighting?!" Forget-Me-Not began to squeal and giggle, but obviously more out of frustration than joy. It didn't help that the phone also started to ring.

"You're- I'm not- Time out," Jeremy scrambled out as he headed out into the living room with the fussing doll. The Minireena let out a squeak and tried to spin herself around in his grasp. He held her still with one hand and answered the phone with the other. "Hello?"

"You left your jacket."

"…What?" For a moment, Jeremy was just flustered enough that the voice was entirely foreign. A random man just called him about a coat.

"You left your jacket over here. I told you I didn't think you needed it," the voice explained. "I'll put it over in the office. Just remember when you get here tomorrow."

It was then that it dawned on Jeremy that he was talking to Foxy. Out of character Foxy. Jeremy sputtered a moment and set down Forget-Me-Not on the table. The Minireena promptly hopped off and ran into the bathroom to mope, and left her caretaker standing in the living room.

"Oh, uh… H-Hey, I didn't- I didn't expect you to call," Jeremy got out unevenly. "Sorry, I'm… I just broke up a fight between the Minireenas. It was brutal."

"Yeah, I'm not surprised. Aggressive little dolls," Foxy agreed. He sounded so human that Jeremy found it jarring, even when he heard some of Foxy's 'other voice' some time ago. "I'd offer to take them off your hands for a few days, but I think I rather throw myself into a river." There was a strange pause as he waited for Jeremy to say something. "…Still with me?"

"Yes, sorry," Jeremy squeaked out. "It's just… I really didn't expect you to call."

"I could hang up," Foxy offered.

"No! No, I'm fine," Jeremy insisted.

"I could go back into character," Foxy offered. He still seemed unbothered.

"No, really, Foxy I'm fine!" Then a strange thought passed his mind. "Do you… Want me to call you something else? Like… Like how you call Marionette Marion?" That was followed by a long period of silence. His pulse quickened as nervousness kicked in. "And I offended him. I knew it. I knew I was going to offend him."

Pink caught the corner of his eye and he looked down to see Rose standing beside him. Before he could really react, she climbed his leg and settled into his lap; curling up like a kitten. Jeremy patted over her back and waited for Foxy to respond.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," Foxy finally admitted. "You're already a mess from me talking to you like this, I can't risk breaking my 'first mate'." His voice held some amusement, but also a rather reluctant tone.

"Foxy, when am I not a mess?" Jeremy bluntly retorted. He couldn't help but be a little less than impressed by Foxy's dismissiveness of him. He was treating him like a frightened child. "I think I can handle you."

There was no silence. Instead, Foxy broke into rowdy laughter. It took him a few moments to regain compositor. "Lad, you're- you're a trip, ya know that?" With that, he stumbled right back into character. "Get some sleep! Ya need it; you're gettin' all grouchy." Another metallic chuckle, "Night, Lad."

"Goodnight, Foxy… Call me back whenever you want." He could hear the animatronic fiddling with the buttons before hanging up the phone. With a small smile, Jeremy ended the call and set his phone down on the table. Now he turned his attention on Rose. Or he tried to. "Everything okay? No more fighting. Especially when I'm not home." It seemed like Forget-Me-Not was the aggressor, but he couldn't be too certain that it wasn't mutual. Rose continued to curl into his lap while Daisy watched curiously from nearby.

Jeremy had more things to worry about than obsessing over Foxy's 'human' voice.

…But it had sounded so real.

It had been so perfect. Every inflection, every remark, it was all a perfect replica from how he sounded. Maybe not as nervous, but he wouldn't be nervous talking to a friend, right? It didn't make sense. The voice was perfect and yet Jeremy had caught on to it being entirely fake. Maybe the voice needed more work, but it wasn't as though there was much of an example to go off of.

Things had gone fine for a few days. Scott's arrangement had made everything so much easier. The animatronic would sleep during the day and at night he would be free to roam the house while Scott slept. At first this had been a wonderful arrangement. Television was just as entertaining as it was in memory, Scott didn't care what he touched, and there was little worry about being spotted since the windows were heavily curtained. Yet while everything started so good, the animatronic was growing restless, and Scott wasn't budging on his lack of communication.

Now this wouldn't have bothered Baby. Baby was the type who would've been content with what she had, mostly because she would've wanted limited time around any humans. She always had to be 'on' around humans and would always be thrilled when she could let her true colors leak out behind closed doors. Even if it meant that other animatronics had to put up with her behavior.

Yet this wasn't Baby. This was just a hijacker in her shell, standing in an office and staring down at the phone now cradled in the receiver. It had been so easy to slam the phone down and yet the damage was already done. At least Jeremy didn't know everything; maybe he would just shrug this whole fiasco off. Even if he did, it didn't fix this growing irritation.

Baby could play pretend for days, waiting for things to come to her, but Ennard was impatient.

It left the office and stood outside of the bedroom door, where Scott locked himself away every night. Wire fingers wrapped around the doorknob and tried to turn, but received resistance. Locked doors were familiar with Scott; he locked the garage during the day and the bedroom at night. This meant that Ennard was never in the same room as Scott since the first night he had willingly let him out. It had originally been fine, but it was now becoming more distressing. It didn't want to stay in the garage; not if it meant that there would continue to be locked doors.

With this train of thought, it waited patiently. Tonight, it would not return to its designated area. Tonight, it would wait for morning.

Scott woke at least six hours after this defiant thought. He stumbled through the living room, locking the garage door on the way, and stepped into the kitchen. Still half-asleep, he grabbed a bottle of orange juice and a granola bar before taking his medication. It should've been a normal routine. Sure, he was awake earlier than usual, but he had slept fine enough. Yet something felt off that he almost entirely ignored.

Then he noticed the footsteps at the entry to the kitchen. His throat clenched and he gripped the bottle tight enough that he was surprised it didn't cave in and overflow juice onto his shaking hand. Hit throat was too tight to speak and it, this clown faced animatronic, had him cornered into the kitchen. He was utterly floored.

"Hello," it greeted.

"…Hello?" Scott tried back.

"It's nice to see you again. I haven't seen much of you." The soothing voice was a ruse, he knew this, but it didn't ease him as intended. It might have done the exact opposite really. Though that might have also been because he could see it better in the light of the kitchen and just seeing the wires twitching made him uncomfortable. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing…" Scott denied. His mouth dried out, even though it still tasted like orange juice.

"You swallowed medicine." Ennard's eyes looked around at the counter, like it was looking for the pill bottle in his robe pocket. Somehow it could identify medicine. "Are you sick?"

"No, I'm just… I take medicine," Scott dryly responded. He followed the comment with an anxious cough and sipped the juice again.

"But you take medicine when you're sick," Ennard insisted, "and then you get better… Is that why you avoid me?" This line of though felt like a dangerous one. As though anything that was said would be misconstrued in a way that Scott didn't mean. Even if the animatronic wasn't being aggressive, he could feel his guard constantly up.

"I'm not sick. I just- I need this to… I have some things wrong with me. Wrong with my- with me." It would be best not to go into specifics. There was the dark suspicion that something robotic would want to open a body and look inside, and his problems went too deep for that.

"Then you're broken," Ennard pointed out. "You don't look broken… Except." Suddenly the animatronic looked downwards. Scott had never felt as self-conscious of his fake leg as he did in this one moment, under the piercing gaze of blue eyes. "Why don't you get fixed? Can't they go inside and fix you?"

"I… I-I'm not broken, I'm just- You can't fix this. It's not that sort of broken. This doesn't go away…" Just saying that made Scott feel ill. The truth always tasted bitter, but orange juice didn't wash the taste away. Legs didn't just get reattached, nerves weren't just replaced, and twitching couldn't be remedied through recalibration; an animatronic wouldn't understand that if they never learned to be human.

Ennard stared at him for a few moments. It seemed confused, but took a few moments to process the information. Its blue eyes seemingly blinked, or rolled down far enough to look like they were blinking, and its mask lightly shifted. It was probably nudged by more wires hiding underneath. "I think I understand."

"Well, I- To be really honest- I don't understand why you're… We had a deal, we- I thought it was going well," Scott tried. He kept having to stop and make the wording gentler, trying to keep from offending the animatronic. "But you're not- you're here and I'm here and nobody's in the garage."

"I wanted to see you," Ennard's feminine voice became a bit firmer. "You wouldn't let me see you."

"Okay, uh… I'll tell you what." Scott's brain worked as fast as it could. "Why don't you go into the garage and rest and I'll work, and tonight I'll… I'll stay up later. We can spend some time together then, okay? We could… Watch TV or something." The animatronic made a strange whirring noise and its wires seemed to shift and readjust. "I promise."

"Great!" Did it just change tone? "I'll return to the garage to rest, but I can't wait for tonight. We'll have so much fun." He immediately regretted it. Even as Ennard turned and headed to the garage, Scott felt like he had made the biggest mistake of his life in that one moment. Or one of them. He trusted it even less at night than during the dim light of morning.

The garage door closed and Scott gave a tired exhale. He wasn't sure if he could handle this much longer.

Mike's birthday was about what he expected; lounging around like he spent most days off and zoning out, while occasionally switching over to a diet consisting entirely of cake. In short, it was about the best birthday he could've had.

Around noon, his cell phone started to ring. He suspected it to be his mother or someone else from his family, so he made absolutely no attempt to answer it. Marionette was more than willing to do it. After what transpired the night before- being Mike returning home early- he was in an upbeat mood and while he answered the phone, the chiming could nearly be heard. Though this mood abruptly plummeted. Silently, Marionette approached the couch and offered the cell phone to Mike.

Mike looked upwards at Marionette, noticed his lack of an expression, and took the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's Fritz," Fritz quietly spoke over the line. He sounded tired and, perhaps, a little distressed. "Look, we need you down at Foxy's. Something happened last night."

"What? Like another break-in?" Mike tensed and straightened. "Is it Jeremy? What happened?"

"Jeremy's here, but… Just get down here, quick. I can't-," Fritz cut off as Natalie called out for him. "I'll be right there! Mike, just hurry!" Then he hung up the phone and Mike was left reeling. Almost immediately he sprung to his feet and was at the dining room table.

"I swear if Foxy pulled a bite of '96, he's going straight to Phone Guy's," Mike promised as he headed to the door. He then stopped abruptly at the door and paused. He turned back towards Marionette who was watching in concern. "Am I going to haul myself over there and it's going to be a party? Because if it is, I'm going to Phone Guy's."

"As much as I wish I could say that it is a party, Fritz sounded serious during the call," Marionette worriedly pointed out. "But Foxy… He would never do anything to Jeremy. He couldn't! He's too friendly with him." He worriedly crossed his arms and lightly swayed in place. "I hope this doesn't have anything to do with the warehouse."

"Unless whatever's haunting the warehouse rode in the car with us and hijacked the pizzeria. Please tell me that doesn't happen," Mike reverted back to concern.

"I wouldn't expect so… But maybe? It could be very possible… But spirits don't latch onto cars, they latch onto people," Marionette pointed out.

"Foxy might've very well latched onto someone by the way Fritz was talking. I'm driving over, you can teleport or should I drive?" Mike's answer was Marionette abruptly vanishing. Seeing this, Mike locked the door and headed for the car, then raced to the pizzeria.

The lights were all off as he drove up and pulled around behind back. He jolted out of the car and headed to the back door, throwing it open and stepping inside the darkness of the hallway. "Fritz?" There was no immediate response and he continued to the dining room. Then, suddenly, he was struck by a sudden sound and blinding lights.

"Surprise!"

He walked right into it.

Everything was set up as though it was a normal birthday party, save the fact that nobody was in uniform and the children were absent. Tabby was too, whether it be because of her weekend job or because she couldn't muster the enthusiasm to attend. Just Jeremy, Natalie, and Fritz- the last of which seemed to be smirking just a bit that his rouse had worked. Then again, Mike had a suspicion that Marionette was in on it and totally ignored his comments on not wanting an actual party. In a way, he was kind of glad he did; though he still kept kicking himself for knowingly falling for it.

It was so different than a child's birthday party. Less scheduling, less of a fuss to get the birthday boy time with the animatronics; which was fine with Mike, who didn't exactly want Foxy hovering over his shoulder all afternoon. He was pretty much convinced Marionette would still do it, but naturally this was quite a bit different. Marionette's hand trailing along his shoulder was much more comforting than Foxy squeaking and pirate-ing in his ear. Unfortunately, Foxy did start randomly singing the Pirate Song shortly after they sung the somewhat awkward birthday song.

In a quiet moment, Fritz confronted Mike. "Sorry about that earlier. I wouldn't have lied if I wasn't put under a heat lamp. So, to make it up to you-," Fritz laid down a flyer. "You're welcome."

"What is this supposed to be?" Mike asked as he glanced over the paper. At first, he assumed that the help wanted poster was for them, just out of a general reaction, until his eyes locked on the three animated mice at the top. It was a help wanted flier for Hickory, Dickory, and Doc's.

"I thought you'd get a kick out of this. Tabby found it at her house a few days ago," Fritz explained. He had an amused smile the entire time. "Take a look at that utter denial of minimum wage. I think we could see why Hickory's might not be hiring too well." The technician reached out to get another slice of cake. "And before you ask, they do answer their phones."

"You called them? I'm going to assume you didn't use your real name."

"Sam Fritz never lies about his name," Fritz promised. Though he was then distracted as Natalie popped up behind him and stole his attention. As they chattered on about something that was lost to Mike, he directed his attention back to the flier.

It was crinkled and the edge was ripped, as though it had been torn out of a magazine. Indeed, the back of the flier was an unrelated advertisement, and the information on the front was mostly limited. 'Looking for part and full-time workers in kitchen and in maintenance. Many opportunities for adults looking for work in a fun atmosphere!' So perhaps they didn't hire teenagers; at least that was a little better than Freddy's, though it never specified if it meant legally or figuratively. He did highly doubt that the job could live up to being 'fun'.

Marionette's hand returned to his shoulder. The Puppet silently stood beside him and Mike could only assume that he was also scanning the flier. He could just barely feel the fabric fingers flex, almost thoughtfully shifting, as though questioning without speaking. Mike knew what he would've asked, especially after what Fritz said about calling. "I'm not planning to spend my entire birthday focused on this." Mike set the flier aside on the table and turned his focus to the pizza, reaching for another slice. "The last thing I want is to get you wrapped up in Hickory's."

"I'm glad," Marionette assured. Though he now curiously looked at the flier. "…No, I don't think I could've."

"Could've what?" Mike inquired as he looked back. Now he noticed that Foxy was standing the too. He didn't know which of them was the recipient of that comment.

"Nothing at all! Don't concern yourself about some arcade," Marionette chirped eagerly. His hands were back on Mike's shoulders, rubbing along them affectionately. "How about we get the presents?"

Mike had to resist making a comment about Marionette's surprise last night because he didn't want anyone to get suspicious. That was also the reason that he didn't mention the three quarters of delicious cake sitting in his fridge at home; everything would seem too odd. So, he resisted it with his own inward remark. "Sure. Sounds good."

It at least took his mind back off of Hickory Dickory's. As far as he was concerned, they had run out of information leads, meaning that the mysteries would stay a mystery. Possible forever, unless someone got in contact with them from there, which he highly doubted. Instead, the gifts were more important; cash, a joke shirt with a sock monkey on it- he could almost feel Marionette's gaze trying to burn through Fritz's head, until it was eventually revealed that Jeremy bought the shirt- and a homemade gift basket. Foxy just dumped about twenty tokens on the table and shrugged unconvincingly.

But it was a great birthday; much better than he could've expected. No stress, no drama, good friends, and a lighthearted mood. It was great… Yet something was still gnawing at him and it involves the night before, back when he was alone in his childhood bedroom. Something about that agonizing admittance that he was human had come home with him, disappeared for about twelve hours, and was back to test his patience. Even in the presence of his job, of the animatronics, it came to jab him in the side and remind him that it was still there.

In the end, he was just the average joe. The average joe didn't always get to be excited, but they found fulfilment. The average joe didn't always get answers, but they were content. Places like Hickory's were lost from focus and secrets were lost to time.

"Everything okay, Mike? You seem a little quiet," Natalie pointed out once she noticed Mike's lessening enthusiasm. He was able to shrug it off once again.

"Just sitting here feeling old," Mike excused. "The usual."

"You feel old? I feel old," Jeremy defended. "I still feel like I should be waking up at the crack of dawn to rush off to school, not like I'm raising a family of four." This comment seemed to particularly amuse Foxy. "Oh, and I got a call last night." Foxy went abruptly silent and stiff; either ending to this story would be a terrible slip up. He didn't know what would kill a party faster; him coming out of character or Baby rearing her head from beyond their reach. "Fritz, you might want to call Phone Guy. He sounded a little strange."

Fritz agreed with a passive nod, then did a double take. "What kind of strange?"

"Just… You know, like something was wrong but he didn't want to say it. That sort of strange." This was, of course, a partial lie, but Foxy appreciated it. Marionette didn't have to hear about Baby and nobody had to know about what he did.

Suddenly, Mike drew attention back to himself, "Speaking of which, I need to make a call. I'll be right back." He started for the office.

"Not Phone Guy though?" Fritz inquired. Just the talk of Phone Guy 'acting strange' had him paranoid.

"Nah, I'll let you handle him," Mike remarked jokingly and promptly disappeared into the office, shutting the door behind him. This left the others alone in the dining room and talk of Phone Guy died down into a low murmur. Marionette noticed that Mike didn't return immediately, but waved it off as Foxy randomly started changing the direction of the conversation to expanding the business. About fifteen minutes later, Mike finally returned, and it only occurred to Marionette then that the call had lasted an unusually long amount of time.

"Everything went well I take it?" Marionette guessed as Mike retook his seat. The striped being had taken the chair beside him in the length of time that he was gone and looked to him with a slightly curious smile.

"Well enough. You know how much I love talking on the phone," Mike quipped back. He seemed a bit more relaxed now. "So where were we…?" Mike was soon wrapped into the conversation and everything was back to normal. In fact, Mike was much more engaged now than he was previously, so the Puppet assumed that whoever Mike talked to had made him feel better. He soon assumed that it was Isabelle assuring Mike that she was fine with him coming home. It logically made the most sense.

The birthday party continued jovially.

"You didn't let me out."

Scott awoke with a jolt and clutched to his armchair. He didn't remember when he fell asleep; probably around nine-thirty considering that the TV was on a completely different program. His eyes flickered onto the garage door only to find it gaping open. Panic took hold as he looked around, trying to locate the location of the voice. Then he noticed a bit of white out of the corner of his eye. He decided not to look over in the direction of the animatronic; it was easier to simply not look over at it, huddled beside the seat.

"But it's okay. I let myself out."

It shifted beside the seat before disappearing out of view. Scott glanced over, but didn't try hard to search it out. He didn't really want to look at it and didn't want to truly know how close it was. He could feel the chair move as it shifted behind him. Perhaps it was trying to hide from view.

"…I thought about what you said," Ennard admitted. "And if you can be damaged and not broken, then maybe I'm not broken either." There was the clinking of metal and the familiar shift of wires. The feminine voice lowered in tone just for a moment. "I don't feel broken."

Even if Scott could've said something he wasn't sure that he would've. There wasn't a real way to respond to this comment, especially when he was stuck in such an uncomfortable situation. The only sound for some time was the lull of the television, droning out some sort of sitcom that he wasn't paying attention to. Slowly, his heartrate started to ease and his muscles started to relax. The amalgam wasn't going to do anything else at the moment, hopefully, so his guard started to lower.

He had spent so long alone with his cats that it felt strange to have a sentient thing here with him. Even if he didn't feel exactly comfortable with it. Maybe it was just him; maybe there was a reason Mike and Fritz lowered their guard enough to trust them and he was just stuck in a constant state of fear because of one incident… One incident that had forever changed his life…

His guard went back up immediately.

"I know this is such short notice, but we are in a bit of a jam. If you wouldn't have called early we- well, I would be stuck working through the week and I already do too much during the dayshift." Her voice was bubbly and dripping with nervousness. Regardless, she was certainly friendly, and it wasn't that sort of false friendliness either. She just seemed so relieved to know that there was a backup who was willing to come in. "Are you sure you can make it in tomorrow? It's just such sudden notice-."

"No, it's fine," Mike assured over the phone. "What time should I be there?"

"If you can get here at eleven then we can go over the paperwork beforehand."

"Alright," Mike agreed. He briefly glanced down the hallway towards the living room. Marionette seemed to still be distracted so he closed the master bedroom door a little more. "I'll be there."

"Thank you, Mr. Fezzmen," the woman said with the relief still present. Then she broke into what was probably a recited farewell, "And thank you for your interest in Hickory, Dickory, and Doc's Funcade! We'll be having fun with you soon!"

Mable: Because let's be honest, Mike doesn't have a good track record of decision making, does he? He may live to regret this… Or not. That's for us to find out soon. Anyway, the next chapter will be posted upon finishing. I hope you enjoyed!
By the way, you've got to love when animatronics come out of character. You never know what's hiding underneath.