Mable: So, I had my consultation and have everything scheduled, so hopefully I'll be able to decompress for the next week or so. I don't mean to go on about this, but just the thought of it… Well, it could be worse! This time should be easier than last time and I have plenty of time to brace myself before then.
Enough of my complaining; we have a night to attend to that I'm holding back. Enjoy!

Can't Go Home Again

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Mike didn't wake to the alarm. He sent a confused look over towards the clock and could see that it was pushing eleven o'clock, and that he had nearly slept until noon. He shuffled into the hallway shortly afterwards, now in his uniform and prepared to make a late appearance at work. A small note greeted him on the table and was rather brief with, "Breakfast in fridge," and a small mask doodle. Though it seemed like an innocent enough note, Marionette's absence along with the simply note gave Mike the impression that he was displeased.

This was only exemplified when Mike opened the fridge door and found a piece of reheated pizza topped with scrambled eggs sitting inside. Marionette couldn't have thought that was a good idea; it was probably to make some sort of point. He ate it regardless, but he could nearly taste the frustration. What was worse was that Mike knew he needed to concoct a believable lie by time he got to the Pizzeria, but he had suddenly tapped out of locations. He could say Phone Guy again, but it lost its credibility. Two nights at Jeremy's also seemed suspicious.

It wasn't even that he thought Marionette would be furious if he found out. He might be, but his more extreme fear was that the Puppet would put his foot down and forbid him to return to the arcade. Still going at that point would risk their relationship, and he didn't want to do that, which would mean that his hands would be tied. Yet he still hadn't figured everything out and while it seemed farfetched, something seemed to be amiss. These animatronics were not like Chipper's, they had to be haunted. They acted too aggressive to not be.

Eventually, Mike did make it to the pizzeria, and thankfully was confronted with the lull after lunch. The children that were still present were mostly in the arcade and less sets of eyes were scouring the room. As such, Mike decided to take a detour into the Prize Corner and reluctantly come face to face with the Puppet who was waiting for him. He must have heard him coming as he began to raise from his box as Mike approached. The security guard was about to speak when he was taken aback by the sight of the striped animatronic.

He doubted he had ever seen Marionette wearing the bowtie that was pinned to his chest, just above his topmost button; not to mention any sort of bowtie or pin. It was white with black polka dots, which went well enough with his coloring. The blue ribbons tied around his wrists certainly didn't though.

"I miss you one morning and this happens," Mike remarked with an amused smile. Maybe it was odd, but it was at least a little cute.

"Mr. Schmidt, so glad to see you finally came in," Marionette quietly responded. He then turned to the doorway, keeping an eye out to make sure nobody would be coming in or listening in. "How was breakfast?"

"Strange enough, but not as much as the change in fashion sense." Mike gestured at the bow to emphasize. Marionette reached up to adjust it.

"Chrissy brought it in for me! She had to leave earlier, but you should have seen how happy she was," the Puppet proudly touted. Though under that pride was a wave of relief that he didn't suppress; pride in Chrissy and that she had overcome her fear to continue returning to the pizzeria. Even if she had to stay close to him, she hadn't let the event with Baby poison her, and that was commendable. After all, Marionette knew what it was like to witness a horrifying event and then be frightened for life. It was especially hard on children. Too many nightmares.

"I'm glad to see her back," Mike assured. "With everything that happened… She's a strong kid." Mike was more impressed than anything else, though there was the relief of not scarring the poor girl for good. "And she knows how to dress you up; that's always a plus," he added with a playful smirk, "and it looks good on you." This got a chime out of the Puppet and it seemed like all was alright.

"I thank you, but alas, I have a birthday to attend soon," Marionette forewarned as he gestured to the presents stacked on the prize counter. "So, you'll forgive me if we save our more pressing conversation until later. Just in case we find it appropriate to raise our voices." Mike's smirk dropped immediately; he had never heard of someone telegraphing a fight before and wished he hadn't have heard it now. Apparently, Marionette's marginally good mood was at least somewhat faked, and that made all of this much more uncomfortable.

"I'll explain when we get home," the security guard tried to buy more time.

"You certainly will!" the Puppet chimed with what sounded like amusement, but seemed just a bit too amused following the threat of an argument.

After Marionette dismissed himself to the birthday party, Mike went along with actual work. He kept watch on the animatronic for a while, but the striped being was much too interested in the toddlers at the birthday party than he was in keeping an eye on the human. While both Jeremy and Natalie asked about Mike's lack of coming in during the morning, they didn't press hard enough to get actual answers.

Fritz, meanwhile, had his own concerns that didn't involve Mike's recent disappearances. He eventually approached Mike with clear concern of a different nature, "How was Phone Guy when you saw him?" Mike assumed that it got back to Fritz that he was spending ridiculous hours over at the Phone Guy's home. He went along with it.

"Didn't seem like anything was off. Why?" It made sense to keep tabs, considering that he was 'with Phone Guy' for the last two days. "Did you see him?"

"He called me yesterday and was asking about Ennard. He said that Baby was telling him about it," Fritz murmured, keeping his voice low. Mike was surprised to feel himself tense, uncomfortable subject matter or not. "I just told him some of it. I didn't want to scare him, but apparently Baby wasn't saying much," Fritz defended.

"Oh yeah?" Mike's eyes slight narrowed in suspicion. "What was she saying?"

"Nothing important, really. If she did, he wouldn't have been asking me about everything. Again, I had to be very, very specific or- We have nowhere to put Baby. He freaks out and Baby's back in here."

"Well, she's not living with us," Mike shot down quickly. That's all he needed; Marionette upset with him while they were housing his aggressive, seven-foot-tall sister. "What did you say? Nothing about Chrissy?"

"Nothing about Chrissy," Fritz clarified. "Told him about Baby separating from Ennard, about it being down in Afton's somewhere, and I did mention that you two got in a scuffle." He got a slightly amused smile, "Considering that you singlehandedly put yourself in the hospital, I left that part out too… But I'm pretty sure it startled him. He got really uneasy on the phone." His smile fell into a concerned frown and Fritz looked over towards the birthday party nearby. "He started stuttering. He did that thing he does."

"I know that thing," Mike agreed. "He did it while I was over there last."

"And he asked me if Ennard was dangerous," Fritz pointed out. Now the suspicion was on his face. "I'm trying to figure out what Baby could've been telling him, because he's obviously not going to say anything, and if she's trying to get him down to smuggle Ennard out then we need to know about it." While he looked truly concerned, Mike seemed slightly less so.

"Phone Guy's not going into Afton's," he assured. "He wouldn't even step inside with me when we were there last time. Phone Guy's way too paranoid to go trekking down into the dark." He paused a moment and then asked, "You told him it was dangerous, yeah?"

"I told him the honest truth," Fritz assured, "and that's that Ennard was way more dangerous than Foxy and Mari ever were. I still believe that; you don't know what's going on with programming and sentience once the bodies get all that wrapped into each other… Literally." The technician shuffled and finished, "So, I just wanted a head's up if you've heard anything." To which Mike declined. Fritz seemed content enough, "Then we need to just keep an ear out if he calls back." With that, the odd conversation ended.

Hopefully, that would be the last of Phone Guy's curiosity about Ennard.

The day was short, but Mike made up for his lack of presence by staying later to clean. This allowed Jeremy to go home earlier than usual and gave Mike a little more leeway before the eventual confrontation. It was late by time they finally could leave, and after locking the doors and saying his farewells to Foxy, Mike drove home. The car ride was silent, even though Marionette didn't have to hide as much with it being nighttime. He was laying over the backseat uncovered and staring vacantly out the window above him.

Even after the car stopped, the Puppet lingered in the back for a few moments before silently teleporting inside. Mike gave a tired exhale and followed him in, already trying to figure out how he would be able to claim innocence when he would be trying to slip out again. He needed a plan, but he didn't know which one would be worth even trying. Inside the house, Marionette was already waiting. He leaned against the back of the couch with his arms crossed and a smile-less, though mostly unreadable expression as he watched Mike enter.

"Okay, so… I was out again all last night," Mike admitted as he shut the door. "And you can probably guess where I was." He would be vague, because he didn't know if Jeremy had said anything earlier. Instead, he turned to face the animatronic and shockingly kept his own face blank in the process. "But things ran a bit later than I expected. That's all."

Marionette looked down towards the floor. It was obvious that he was having trouble believing him.

"You know I wouldn't be out until six in the morning unless it was of dire importance, and you know how little I think of things of 'dire importance'. Time got away from me, that's all," Mike insisted with assurance. He didn't have to lie, but it certainly didn't feel like the truth.

"I suppose so… I just find it odd how quiet you were about this last night," Marionette pointed out. "You didn't say you would be out this late again."

"I didn't think I would, but time got out of my hands," Mike explained to him. "And I'm basically dead to the world once it hits about six. I'm still dead to the world now." He slid off his jacket and threw it over one of the dining room chairs. "I'm going to take a shower and make it an early night, so if you still want to go to bed then I'll come with you."

"Perhaps that would be good. I have to be awake early tomorrow; specifically, between five and seven," Marionette said, his gaze briefly narrowing in suspicion, showing that he would be keeping an eye out. "…Will you be staying home tonight?"

"That's the plan," Mike responded as he passed by and headed off to take his shower. He certainly seemed tired enough, so it wouldn't make sense for Mike to force himself to leave. For the moment, the Puppet let his questions drop and decided that he would trust him for the evening, as hearing that he wasn't leaving made him at ease. Tomorrow they would sit down and talk it out.

The Puppet had a terrible feeling that he was being naïve.

Mike barely managed to make it to the arcade before his shift. Nobody was there, not even Chance, so he wasn't caught, but it had been a close call. He had barely set up at his office when he received his nightly phone call. Jennifer was on the other side of the line, just as usual.

"Welcome to your third night. I actually have a few tips for you, curtesy of Sarah- She knew the guy who worked before you," Jennifer quickly explained. "Okay, first thing's first; that supply closet behind you isn't just for show. If things get too hectic then feel free to camp out in there for a few minutes. You won't be able to do this tomorrow, but I think it will work fine tonight as long as you keep a strong grip. It works on the mice, it works on Bo Peep… And it even works on Sly. I'll get back to him in a minute."

Of course, the name 'Sly' wasn't too unfamiliar to Mike from the sign in the kitchen. Mike didn't interrupt to correct her, as he didn't want to admit to wandering the arcade.

"Now this is really important. Sarah said that the animatronics respond to music- usually the music that plays to introduce them and familiar tunes- but there is one song that seems to affect their programming. She said that maybe it's an incomplete program that wasn't finished. Which would make sense; it wasn't like we could get anymore technicians out here after they cheat- You know what? Off topic. So, he used to play the song on his phone and, apparently, it would make them all slow down."

Finally, a tip that could save his life. "Sounds like something I could use. They were giving me hell last night," Mike said as he reached around in the drawer for paper. Eventually he settled on a scrap of magazine to scribble on. "I'll just pretend that I didn't hear those red flags. What's the song?"

"Uh… Yeah," Jennifer sounded awkward. It didn't seem like she thought he would call her out on the cut off rant. "It's called something like 'The Grandfather Clock'. It goes like…" She then began to somewhat recite the tune of the song through 'da's. However, she didn't need to. Mike was absolutely floored by the reveal, because there was suddenly a connection to Freddy's… And not one that he had expected.

"I got it…" Mike murmured as he tapped his pen on the table. "How about 'Pop Goes the Weasel'?" He looked out of the corner of his eye as the sheep suddenly appeared and rolled down the hall beside the office.

"Okay, never play Pop Goes the Weasel. I don't know where you got that from, but- Oh, Sly! Okay, yeah, I got it, but no." She gave a small laugh that was only slightly forced. "You either saw the posters or looked at some of the material over in the prize corner, I assume?"

"Psychic vision," Mike flatly stated. "I'm at least fifty percent sure it's an animatronic." He then flashed the light at the sheep, which had appeared again. It zoomed past the stage of the mice and continued towards the ball pit.

"Well, here's a little history lesson on Sly, since you're so interested," Jennifer began. Her voice almost sounded suspicious, or perhaps even a little exasperated, but she continued. "When the Funcade opened, it was supposed to have a restaurant inside where animatronics would put on a show while people ate their meals. The animatronics were Poppy the Monkey and Sly the Weasel… You know, Pop Goes the Weasel. You're keeping up?"

"I'm way ahead of you," Mike assured. Indeed, he was, and he furrowed his brows. "So, I'm expecting Sly tonight and Poppy tomorrow?"

"Thankfully, no. Something went wrong- I'll be honest, I don't know what happened, but there isn't a Poppy. It could've broken down or something, but she's not here, and I think that's why the restaurant part was cancelled. Sometimes they still have shows with Sly, but it's hard playing off someone who doesn't exist."

Suddenly, Tabby's story was reassured. As shady as it had sounded before, Tabby had been fired at the last moment because they had shut down the kitchen. Something still didn't make sense, though.

"But why shut down an entire dining hall just because they're missing an animatronic?" Speaking of which, Mike watched as Hickory stepped down from his stage and started to approach the office. He leaned back in his seat and waited for the animatronic to move on. He stayed quiet and the mouse seemed to not notice him as it lingered outside of the office.

"I know, doesn't make sense, right?" Jennifer suddenly sounded a bit too excited. Or, at least, a bit too interested. "My best guess is because of Sly's behavior. Without Poppy keeping Sly in line, he just does whatever. Seems like the best option."

"Makes sense. I don't want to cut you off, but they're getting restless. If Sly's going to give me trouble, then I need to know how to fend him off," Mike pointed out. Jennifer made a sort of sucking noise, as though she had little faith in him.

"Sly's going to come out of the kitchen and make his way to your office. He knows you're there and he won't stop until he's got ahold of you. He'll camp outside of the office, sometimes hidden and sometimes in plain sight, and wait until you look distracted. If you get him in the eyes with the light quick enough, Sly will get startled and run back to hide. If he gets too close… Hiding under the desk won't work. Follow Sarah's suggestion and hide in the closet… You'll just have to hold it closed until he gets bored and leaves…"

"…You say that like you're not sure if he's going to leave… And what if Doc's stalking the office?" Mike pointed out. A thump against his foot reminded him of the task at hand and he gave a weary exhale at seeing it. He nudged it back again and checked the monitors. Hickory was outside the bathrooms, Dickory was near the prizes, and Bo Peep was coming down the main hall towards the sheep, but none of them were in the immediate area. He breathed a little easier for the moment.

"Sly will run if Doc's coming, so just get under the desk and leave immediately after Doc comes out," Jennifer assured. "…Before I let you go, could I ask you something?"

"Alright, but make it quick. I've got a sheep at my feet," Mike pointed out as he flashed the light at the sheep which, again, tried to creep in. He heard the fan let out a groan and looked over in time to see Boy Blue vanish from his spot beside the thermostat. "You've got to be kidding…" the security guard murmured to himself as he stood to turn the temperature back down. Dickory rounded the corner while he was there and he only barely dodged and wandered back into the office; all the while with Dickory standing there, seemingly waiting to confirm if Mike was there or not.

"You were asking about Afton's Robotics and Fazbear Entertainment… You know what? Never mind. It's getting late, you're getting busy, and I'll talk to you tomorrow." Jennifer abruptly hung up before Mike could ask any questions. This was probably for the best as Dickory seemed to be listening to him. He closed his cell phone and put it away, and Dickory wandered past.

"Fazbear Entertainment… If anyone's still left over from Fazbear Entertainment, would they have come over here? There's a connection. There's obviously-…" Mike's thoughts cut off as his gaze went down through the arcade. He slowly sat upwards and peered through the darkness, noticing that the kitchen light was off and making it darker. There, standing just past the stage, was something he hadn't expected. "Please don't be Sly."

Its pointed face was a dark brown and underneath its 'snout' was a molded mouth stretched into a wide smile, with sharp looking, fake teeth.

"Who would make something like that for children?!" Mike was floored this time. It looked so sinister in nature. Not including the wicked smile, it was also wearing a black jacket and molded on black pants, all styled like it was supposed to be some sort of 'bad boy' character. He got it, the weasel was supposed to be a villain or something, but who in their right mind would give it such a freakish face? On second thought, it probably was William Afton.

Sly simply stood down by the stage and stared at him. Only just after midnight and here he was stuck with the new animatronic. Mike held his own and kept an almost constant gaze between it and the surrounding area. It didn't move an inch for the next two hours, even as Hickory, Dickory, and Bo Peep passed by it. Sly paid them no attention and, other than not walking into him, they seemed uninterested in him too. If Mike was almost always facing him, Sly couldn't get any closer, or that's what he assumed.

Unfortunately for the animatronics, Mike was entirely focused tonight on his work. He kept his flashlight at hand, he watched the monitors, and he managed to keep Sly back with the threat of the flashlight. When he was being careful and willing to stay in his desk, Mike was still fine at his job, and it was obvious that he could stay in the office fine without getting too restless. This meant that when he was in the office, Mike had a mark advantage over them.

Then, shortly after two, a loud crash towards the front of the store distracted Mike momentarily. He jumped in his seat and looked at the monitors where the source of the noise was revealed. Hickory had his fist in the screen of an arcade cabinet and yanked it back out with a stumble. It then moved to the next one and sluggishly reared back its fist before slamming it into the next one.

"I hope that's not coming out of my salary," was Mike's immediate thought. Then came, "Am I supposed to do something? How am I supposed to get him to stop without…" Almost immediately, he perked with a realization. He could turn on a nearby machine and hopefully distract Hickory away from his continued destruction. This plan was hitched instantly when Mike looked upwards to find Sly gone. He sent a frantic look around and then got out his flashlight and shined it around.

Wherever the weasel went, it wasn't visible and he doubted it went back to the kitchen. Another crash foreshadowed that Hickory was on a tangent and he threw one of the pens across the room, hoping it would clatter and drive the animatronics away. It did nothing; he didn't even hear it land on the floor, so he doubted Hickory did.

"Damn it…" It was too early to be out of the office playing cat and mouse… But he had to do something to lure it away. Mike fixed his hat, checked the cameras one last time, and stood to his feet. With slow, patient steps he headed to the middle hall and started down towards the front. Taking a sharp left, he slipped into the aisle on the other side of the destroyed machines and looked for one to turn on. Eventually he chose a random one in the middle and tapped on one of the buttons rapidly. The second it buzzed to life, Mike turned back and headed to the hall.

The plan was to walk straight back to the office and sit himself back down before Hickory could wander down and bump into him. Mike stepped into the hall and was midway through a turn when he saw something slowly moving at the end. An upper body started to lean out from around the corner and revealed the shadowed, yet freakish face of the weasel. It came to a halt once its head was fully in view and stared down at the security guard. It had no problem moving as he watched it.

Which meant that it had no problem suddenly launching itself around the corner and breaking into a sprint.

Mike turned and ran down past the prizes. There was a cluttered thump as Hickory and Sly bumped into each other, but he could hear Sly hot on his heels, crashing into the wall as they took another sharp corner. With another turn, Mike was outside the wall of the office and circled around inside. He made a beeline for the supply closet and fumbled with the knob, but it wouldn't budge.

"Oh, come on, no!" Mike blurted out as he tried to strongarm the door. It was just sturdy enough to resist his pulling. "Not now! Damn it!"

The rapid footsteps approached and the animatronic swung around into the office. It was sheer reflex that caused Mike to shove his back to the wall and aim the flashlight ahead. Sly was just a few steps away when the light met his eyes, and only then did he make a real reaction. Its pupils and irises shrunk dramatically, its body gave a small shiver, and then a distinctly metallic sound echoed out from its head; it sounded distinctly like a hollow 'pop'.

Sly raised its arms stiffly in front of it, as though to shield itself, and took a few clumsy steps out of the office. Within seconds, it had vanished back into the arcade. Mike's heart was pounding and he didn't feel any relief from it leaving.

Especially not when a beige body barreled out from the main hall. Choking, Mike delved under the desk to avoid Doc, who had made an immediate trip into the office even though he shouldn't have been alerted. It smashed its fists onto the desk as expected and wood shuddered. Then came the few seconds of silence that usually followed Doc's 'tantrum'. With his heart still racing, he assumed that Doc would leave as well, but instead he didn't.

Heavy footsteps circled the desk and the animatronic stood behind it, allowing Mike to see its legs and lower belly. Stiffly, it tried to lean over and jammed its arms underneath the desk. Considering that it seemed unable to fully bend over, Doc couldn't get his arms far enough under the desk to reach Mike. He couldn't tell if it was pitiful enough to be amusing or if he needed to be concerned by how desperate it was. Doc was obviously becoming more determined over the week and that alone was a sign to be fearful.

Doc gave up and headed back to his stage sluggishly, allowing Mike to climb out from underneath the desk and plant himself back on the office chair. It was a sort of relief to be back in the office.

"I can't keep doing this. Machines or not, they're going to kill me one of these times." Even worse, that thrill that he had from the previous days was starting to die down. The danger was becoming more intense and Mike was slowly getting in further over his head. He was too stubborn to quit, but not stupid enough to take his safety for granted.

Another hour crept by and the office grew increasingly warm. Mike knew that Boy Blue had changed the thermostat, but he was too paranoid to risk going over and turning it down. He could manage it for a while, but it was slowing his reflexes. It was about to turn four in the morning when Mike started to find it unbearable. He sluggishly shined the light on the sheep, which skittered away, and sent a weary look at the monitor. Since he scared off Sly, the animatronic had been a no show, and the others were easy to avoid now that he was staying in the office.

His clothes were sticking to his body and he was having trouble breathing with how stuffy it was. It became clear that he wouldn't be able to bear another hour of this.

"At this rate, I won't even make it out of here come five," Mike considered. He proceeded by removing his uniform jacket and trying to fan himself with a magazine. "It's right there. Just get up, walk two feet, turn it down, and come back." It sounded so easy in comparison of the move he made earlier.

After waiting for Dickory to pass by- he was walking past the office a lot more frequently than the days before- Mike shuffled over and turned the thermostat back down. It would take a few minutes, but he would feel some sort of difference. Mike flopped back in his seat and didn't even have a moment to consider any sort of victory before he noticed something new.

There, peering out from around the corner, was none other than Sly. It was right at the edge of the entrance and stared at him with that wickedly molded face; eagerly preparing to rush him. However, Mike knew that shining his light now would do nothing. It didn't take a genius to realize that the light only worked when in close enough proximity. If he moved too early, Sly could take it as sign to hurry in, and there would be no way to escape.

Time for his poker face. Mike just kept a direct gaze on the weasel and lazily crossed his arms. His flashlight was clutched threateningly in his hand, challenging Sly to make any sort of movement.

It would've been a dramatic face off if he hadn't heard a familiar groan.

"What?!" Mike sputtered. It was obviously Doc, but Hickory and Dickory hadn't noticed him, so he was utterly confused. Alas, Doc jumped down from the stage. "For the love of Foxy-!"

It wasn't as though he could just sit there and stare at Sly when Doc sped in, so he ducked back under the desk and hoped that Doc would get there before Sly. Either fortunately or not, Doc instead sped past the office and down the hall beside the office, where Sly was peeking around from. The motion was enough trigger Sly to rush off, as Mike heard him rushing back towards the kitchen.

And to only punctuate how wonderful the night was turning out to be, the sheep proceeded to roll under the desk and bump against his leg. He shoved it back and returned to his seat, waiting for his time to run out. This was the first time that Mike considered not coming back.

He always returned to Freddy's, as Freddy's was like an addicting drug. It gave him a rush in an otherwise dull life and made him feel superhuman for those few hours. Something was different here, but Hickory Dickory's wasn't what was different; Mike was.

Back then, Mike didn't have a business or a nice home, or Jeremy and Fritz, or Natalie and his family, or Marionette. Mike didn't have something that he wanted to get home to and something about how intense this was reminded him that he now had something to lose. He didn't know if he had enough of a drive to come back again; if it wasn't for those brief glimpses of some sort of truth, he doubted that he would have even stayed at all. Five o'clock came and Mike was truly starting to wonder if a look into the past was worth putting everything on the line for.

His thoughts were cut short when he noticed Hickory stopping beside the stage. The mouse animatronic stood there, gazing off at nothing, and made no indication that it intended to move. It seemed harmless enough, but then Dickory also appeared and stood by the entrance to the office. Then Bo Peep appeared and stood near the hall to the front door with her sheep by her side. If he squinted, Mike swore he could see Sly back by the kitchen door as well. All the animatronics had come out to stand around the office.

As though they were waiting for the power to die.

Mike knew he couldn't wait. He grabbed his jacket and flashlight, and left anything else as it wasn't important. He took slow, sideways steps towards the thermostat with his back to the wall and his front towards the animatronics. Bo Peep followed him with her head while the mice seemed to turn their heads to listen better. They were all waiting for him to slip up and he could only assume that they would strike the moment he lost power. Once they were out of view, he started to move a little quicker down the hall, though kept his gaze behind him as he passed the restrooms.

There was no surprise when Sly's face slowly peeked out from around the corner. Nor when Dickory started to lumber out from behind the weasel. They were both preparing for what was coming, but Mike planned to beat them to the punch. He back around the next corner and continued back towards the door.

It was then that the power died. Mike spun on his heels and blindly dashed to the door, only to bump into a short figure midway. With an exasperated huff, Mike shoved Boy Blue out of the way, ignored what sounded disturbingly like a giggle, and pushed through the back door. The security guard took a step out of the building when he was suddenly yanked back by a hand grabbing his jacket. Mike twisted out of the grasp and shined the flashlight back threateningly. This was the appropriate choice as it was Sly, but he was too far back for a reaction.

Regardless, Sly slowly let the door shut and lock into place once again. Mike had made it through his third night. With a weary exhale, he turned and headed to his car. Maybe he wouldn't come back tomorrow.

As though Mike had any sort of choice when pitted against his self-control.

The dull whirring of metal seemed to resonate through the walls and was followed with a noise like a crack. Thumping, scraping, sounded like heavy plastic, couldn't have been. The lights were dull and everything smelled oily and damp. It was so claustrophobic and somewhere in the night he could hear thumping as deconstruction happened just in the next room. In here he huddled and hid from the inevitable.

And all the while, everything was silent. Nobody whispered in his ear, telling him to save the others, telling him to find the monster that condemned them, and it stayed deathly silent on the inside and much too loud on the outside. No more parties, no more children; the price of seeking revenge was to be rendered inactive. They had failed at their only chance. Now here he was, thrown to the trash, awaiting his fate. Even his so called 'friend' had abandoned him, but he kept ahold of some pitiful hope that there was a way out.

He heard the footsteps from nearby as someone started to wheel something away. They would soon get to him, they would soon find him, it was only a matter of time. Yet in this moment, the voice suddenly returned. Suddenly there was the harsh voice, the sudden command, echoing through and rendering any other thoughts trivial. It was a command that he couldn't refuse.

SAVE YOURSELF.

All at once, Marionette was awake. He immediately turned back to stare at the empty bed beside him. Mike was gone, but he thought that perhaps he wasn't fully gone. Maybe Mike woke him up leaving the bedroom, he hoped, and he checked the clock to find it only five-twenty-one. It was too early to consider doing much outside of sleeping, so Marionette patiently waited for a few moments for Mike to return. He needed him tonight… It had been some time since he remembered his more uncomfortable memories.

He couldn't tell what could've refreshed them. Maybe the party today, but that seemed too minor to trigger such an obscure memory. His black fingers rubbed over his face in a sort of self-comfort and he glanced back at the clock. Only this time did he notice the music box sitting on the nightstand. It only took a few moments for it to all make sense; that would explain why the Puppet wouldn't hear his companion leave the room. That would mean that he could've left at any time.

With a frustrated burst of static, Marionette telekinetically threw the music box off the nightstand. Not hard enough to break the music box and not enough to relieve any of his frustration. He couldn't believe that after his clear disapproval Mike would still go off wherever he was going. The man hadn't even offered the details this time, which was significantly more suspicious than if he was still over with the Phone Guy. Which he wasn't; Marionette knew that was no longer the case. It couldn't be if Mike was hiding it this intensely.

So, where was he? Where would Mike be going so frequently? As much as Marionette wanted to guess, his mind was clouded with sleep and memories. Memories of cold nights of fear and uncertainty, before his escape, before the many he spent hidden in the back of the Pizzeria to avoid being taken away. He shuddered at the thought and tried to focus back on Mike, and left the bedroom so that he could look and see if he was truly gone. Alas, he was nowhere to be seen and his car was missing, so he was clearly still wherever he was.

It wasn't as though Marionette could teleport into his car when he didn't know where he was. He would just have to wait for him to return, which- from past experience- usually came around at about six-thirty. Frustrated and wanting to pass time quickly, the Puppet returned to the bedroom, grabbed his music box, and wound it as he dropped himself safely onto the bed. The world disappeared into sleep for a little longer.

Instead of waking when the music box shut off, Marionette woke up when the bedroom door clicked closed. Pinpricks of light scanned half of the room as he listened to the movement behind him as Mike shuffled around. He could feel his weight on the other side of the bed and tightened his grip on the music box clutched between his arms. He waited until the last moment and tried to suppress the static of annoyance. Mike lied, Mike snuck out, and worst of all Mike used his music box against him again.

Once he was certain that Mike was laying down, Marionette rolled over and grabbed ahold of his arm. To his surprise, Mike reacted by jumping and wrenching his arm back. It was the first time in so long that he had startled the man and it immediately confused him. Frustration died down as he stared over at Mike, able to see him clearly through the semi-darkness of the bedroom. Mike apparently saw him too as his eyes adjusted- it wasn't very light outside just yet- or may have just recognized the feel of the fabric on his arm. He slowly relaxed.

Mike's pulse was fast enough that Marionette could hear it. It fringed on the edge of frenzy, but then began to quickly die down into a normal rhythm. This wasn't normal; Mike didn't react like this.

"I thought you were still asleep," Mike muttered in some sort of defense. He already sounded groggy and seemed less coherent than usual, understandbly.

"I thought you were staying here," Marionette corrected. He intended to be firm, but his voice was gentle. Something was wrong and he knew it, and he was almost willing to coax it out. The human tiredly dragged the blankets over him and laid down. Silence returned to the room as his breathing started to slow. He knew that Marionette was still kneeling over him, looking down at him, but he almost felt safer that way.

The silence was eventually broken. "I don't want you to leave tomorrow," Marionette insisted. "I don't care what the reason is, I don't want you going wherever you're going. It's running you down." He reached out to pet his head and felt the overprotectiveness set in. "Stay with me."

"…Yeah," Mike quietly agreed. He sounded defeated but didn't argue with him. He couldn't go back. He couldn't risk going back, tape recorder or not. Or music box or not.

Though couldn't and wouldn't weren't the same thing.

Mable: As you can see, Mike now actively knows what he's doing is a big, stupid mistake and yet is still indulging in it... Yet will he be able to resist the temptation tomorrow or will he return for his fourth night? All to be seen in the next chapter! I hope you enjoyed!