Mable: That February 4th deadline's coming faster than I intended, so things are a little tight on time. For a novel that has taken about a year though, I'm closer than I could've expected. Besides, that was just the date for the rough draft completion, so I would've needed time for the final edits- me trying to defend the fact that I'm going to miss the big deadline.
This chapter gave me a little trouble, but it is finally here and pushing 9,000 words. XD So, I hope you Enjoy!
Can't Go Home Again
Chapter Eighty-Four
Marionette was somewhat surprised that Mike was gone when he woke up. Considering that it was the day off, and a holiday to boot, it confused him that the man would get up earlier. It didn't take much curiosity to get him out of bed and down the hall into the living room, where he found that Mike was still missing. He looked out the window and soon realized his car was gone, but instead of worry, he was more amused.
"Someone must've forgotten something," Marionette remarked to himself. He glanced over to the tree and his curiosity piqued. If Mike did forget a gift, then he could've fooled him. In the last few days a dozen or so gifts had popped up under the tree and they were clearly labelled from Mike to himself. Odd situation or not, he still assumed it wasn't anything dire; if it was then, Christmas or not, Mike would've probably forewarned him. He decided to instead be patient and went to seek out the Christmas crackers that he had put away.
Halfway through opening the box, Mike returned from wherever he had gone and came through the door with a rather large box. He pushed his way through the door, trying to juggle the box as he did so, and briefly stopped when he caught gaze with Marionette's amused gaze. He quickly regained his cool and shot a smile, "Morning."
"Good morning," Marionette chimed as he turned back to the counter, allowing Mike to get the rest of the way inside without him watching. "And Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas, Doll," Mike echoed as he kicked the door closed behind him and headed into the living room. He then fell silent as he fixed up whatever the gift was. The Puppet felt his excitement grow as he carefully set the crackers aside and dropped the box somewhere on the counter. Before he could really get much further, Mike came back into the kitchen and linked an arm around the animatronic.
Marionette trilled and offered one of the brightly wrapped packages. "Want to pop one early?"
"As much as I'd love to pop things with you, I've got something a little more important in mind," Mike tempted as he tugged at the animatronic. Marionette set the cracker aside and turned to the security guard, eagerly taking his hand and allowing himself to be led to the couch. He sat down beside the large gift and looked at it with growing interest. It was wrapped hastily, and the lid seemed separate from the rest of the box, so he would be able to see what was inside by lifting it alone instead of fully unwrapping it.
"Oh Mike, you didn't have to," Marionette playfully chimed as he looked over the box. "Don't you want to open one of yours first? How about that large one with the red bow?" He pointed at said box to further direct him to his obvious hint.
"After you. Trust me, you need to open yours first," Mike insisted with a growing smile, a sly one, as though he already knew the gift would go over well. Marionette chimed in amusement as the human dropped onto the other side of the couch, watching and waiting. "Just keep in mind that you asked for this." This piqued Marionette's interest even more and he reached for the box.
"Then it could be anything, couldn't it? I wonder…" Marionette trailed off as his fingers touched the sides of the box. Suddenly his focus dropped fully onto the box as he noticed something odd. He could feel something peculiar from inside; something faint. "…Mike, this… Is this-?" There it was, a faint shift, the smallest movement under his fingertips. It was as though something was moving inside.
"Open it," Mike coaxed further as he watched intently with that same smile. So, Marionette did; lifting the lid and seeing what hid inside. Immediately all words broke down into trills, chimes, and distorted cluster of uncontrollable music box noises. He was practically trembling as he stared into the box. Then, finally, he dared to reach inside, pulling out a small, fluffy kitten with a red collar. Specifically, the female kitten that Mike had chosen from Scott's litter.
Marionette couldn't form even a single word. He simply pulled the kitten to his chest, trilling in excitement, and petting over her fur with an unyielding glee. Mike chuckled and set the box on the floor so that he could slide over closer. As soon as he was within arm's length, Marionette grabbed for him and pulled him into a tight hug. Mike could just barely hear a smother cry of his name, suppressed by the chimes joy but still very much there.
"Merry Christmas, Mari. She's all yours," Mike again proclaimed. "Love you." He certainly had to if he willingly bought a kitten when he hadn't been intending on getting a pet beforehand. He had to admit that visiting the kittens might've softened him up to the idea. Marionette hugged tighter before turning to look down at the kitten. The kitten meanwhile was very confused, but it almost seemed to not register that Marionette was not a human. It instead just seemed surprised that an unknown person was holding it.
"She's- She's-…" Marionette forced the words past the vocal celebration trembling through his internal music box. "I love- I love her!" He pulled the kitten closer to himself and ran his fingers through her soft fur. She had apparently adopted the fur of her father, though a bit thinner and only kept the facial build and ear shape of her mother. It left her soft and undeniably beautiful. She mewed as he tucked her into the crook of his arm. "She- name?"
"She's yours," Mike further insisted. "You get to name her whatever you want." If the Puppet already had a name in mind, then he couldn't yet voice it. He instead pulled himself together and suddenly changed focus. He pointed to the other box tucked under the tree, the one he himself had wrapped.
"Yours, open it," Marionette insisted. "It's nothing like this- I wish it was- but please open it. You deserve it." Mike quirked a brow and considered it. His curiosity was already tempting him, and he stood from the couch to bring the gift over, noticing that it was a little heavier than he expected. By time he started to return to the couch, he found Marionette stretched out on his back, coaxing the kitten to lay on his chest and caressing her fur. Instead of moving around him, Mike just knelt on the floor. The box seemed heavy enough anyway.
Mike started to tear off the wrapping paper and Marionette briefly turned his focus away from the kitten. He still pet her, but watched Mike with interest, waiting for him to get enough of the paper off to be able to read the box underneath. He wasn't disappointed; Mike's curiosity immediately dropped to surprise. Marionette couldn't help but laugh excitedly at the response; giddy off the emotions flooding through him.
"It's brand new! It even uses CDs instead of cartridges; top of the line," Marionette explained as he pulled Mike back by the shoulder to peck him on the cheek. "You'll need to thank Jeremy and Fritz too. We all pitched in together… Though the games were my idea.~" He paused as he noticed Mike's lack of an answer and tilted his head. "Do you like it or is that a 'pretend you don't hate it' silence?"
Suddenly, Mike flung an arm around him and started to tug him down off the couch. Not a word was spoke; Mike thanked by meeting lips and porcelain.
"And the rest of the night was mostly a blur," Mike finished. Fritz arched a brow suspiciously even though Mike left out most of the specific details to him.
"…That story ended a little suggestively," he playfully pointed out. Mike scoffed in response, not noticing the almost thoughtful look that then crossed Fritz' face. Both were in the office and wrapping up some paperwork before the pizzeria opened its doors. Everyone was already there and in place, but they were still ten minutes or so out from opening to the public.
"You know what I mean. I practically killed my eyes playing that thing all night, and I don't regret a minute of it… Then I woke up with the kitten trying to smother me and Mari's arms around my neck, so every gift apparently has a deadly lining," Mike pointed out. "But I should thank you and Jeremy too, so our door's open to either of you if you want to swing by and chew through a few hours."
"I'm glad you suggested before I had to ask," Fritz remarked and then squinted at the calculator in his hand. "Is this wrong? This can't be right." He handed it over for Mike to look at and calculate. Then he rubbed at his face, thinking back to the event with Mike's mother. Suddenly, something hit him, and he cautiously looked over. "…You and Mari still share a bed?" he hesitantly asked.
"Sometimes," Mike answered back. "No, I think this is right. I think this button is starting to stick, so we're going to have to watch that… Or dole out the couple of bucks for another calculator." He dropped it back onto the desk and dragged a receipt over to scribble down the numbers. "I think that's about it."
"Yeah… Yeah, we can do the rest of this after work. Maybe I could come over tonight? Natalie's going to visit her folks, so I've got nothing else to do." While Fritz would've been fine visiting Natalie's family, he wasn't too keen on visiting Natalie's family. Natalie wasn't either; they had mutually agreed that it would've been a bad idea with how bitter her father was about her moving out.
"Sounds fine by me," Mike agreed. Marionette was still in too much of a good mood to say no, so he doubted that there would be a problem of any kind. "I'll invite Jeremy too. We can make a night out of it." This sounded like a good enough idea and Fritz was able to ignore that thought earlier.
"I'm just overreacting! Mari's just Mike's little buddy- not too little, but still. He just lied to his Mom to make it easier. Makes sense," Fritz affirmed to himself as he shut down the computer. If anything, it was all rather amusing. Maybe after they got there, Fritz would tell Mike about what his mother said, and they would all have a huge laugh about it. He came out of the office with Mike to unlock the front doors. That was the end of it.
Or, it would've been the end of it if not for the things that Fritz just happened to notice. Things like Marionette brushing past Mike every time he came out of the Prize Corner were obvious and easy to notice. Usually it would involve him trailing a hand on his arm or back, sending Mike a friendly smile. Fritz shrugged it off as best as he could; it could just be nothing at all. Then there was how much Mike stopped by the Prize Corner. Almost always when passing to or from the door he would stop in to check the Puppet.
Of course, the most uncomfortable moment was absolutely the 'soda incident'. Jeremy swung by the supply closet and grabbed the wet wipes, saying that a child had spilled a cup of soda on Marionette and that he needed more wipes. Fritz offered to take them instead as he wanted to stretch his legs and had been seated too long beside the kitchen. So, as innocently as could be, Fritz stepped into the Prize Corner.
It would've all just been normal and fine if Mike didn't have his hands wrapped around Marionette's slender leg. Fritz took a moment to gawk at the scene before it became clearer. Mike was crouched down in front of the box, which Marionette was sitting on the edge of, and rubbing a napkin on his stripes to try and get the soda off.
"It's nothing. It's nothing. Don't even start thinking that this," he paused as Mike looked back at him. "I anything more than general maintenance."
"Oh hey, great. We could use more of those," Mike complimented as he reached out his hand. "We're putting that 'no food and drink' sign up. This white's going to stain if we're not careful." He wiped at the fabric insistently.
"It was clear soda," Marionette assured. "…But it could still get sticky."
"Yeah, that's what we need. Questions on why the Puppet is sticky," Mike quipped with a smirk. Marionette sent him a frown in response, unamused by the slightly suggestive joke. Mike noticed the look and snickered, "Don't read that out of context. Fritz's already been doing that enough today as it is."
Apparently neither noticed how quiet and wide-eyed Fritz looked. Suddenly he was feeling very peculiar and very much out of place in the room. He finally started to step back out of the Prize Corner and nearly walked into Jeremy, who had also brought the spray disinfectant. Fritz quickly disentangled himself from the situation and headed off to the kitchen to find Natalie. He need to get a second opinion before he lost his mind entirely.
Natalie was a little surprised when Fritz popped up behind her as she was taking a pizza from Tabby. "Can we talk?" he suddenly whispered over her shoulder. She jumped out of response and turned to look upwards at him.
"Whoa, creeping around again?" Natalie asked, still startled. She then noticed his look and furrowed her brow, "What's going on? You look like you've seen a ghost…Wait…" Her expression then dropped to flatness, "Please tell me that Dad isn't out there."
"It's not your dad, it's… Here, let's just go- let's go somewhere," Fritz murmured as he glanced over to Tabby. She didn't seem interested in what they were talking about, but he didn't want to risk it regardless. He led her out the door and she stopped at the dining room to deliver the pizza to a party of children. He was a little surprised that kids asked for a mushroom and bell pepper pizza, but they still dug into it without much care of what was on it.
Once done, Fritz led Natalie into the hallway and into the office. Part of him felt guilty about what he was about to suggest. "I think I'm exaggerating about all of this, but do you notice something odd about Mike?" he asked before he could back out.
Natalie furrowed her brows at the question. "Not really, but I haven't seen much of him today… I did see him sneaking a cup of coffee around lunch. Is he having some sort of weird caffeine spike?" Even this seemed weird. Natalie and Mike had worked together for quite some time and she had witnessed his affinity for a caffeine boost, but never saw him act strange afterwards.
"Not that. It's more… You know what Isabelle said about," Fritz's voice lowered, "Mike being in a relationship…?" Almost immediately, Natalie looked startled by the comment, but it then receded into unconcern.
"You mean about Mari? You don't think that- Fritz, you know that was just a story. It's just an excuse to explain why Mike's living with Mari… Or to keep her from trying to hook him up with someone. You know how some mothers can be," Natalie excused. "And even if she wasn't going to, Mike might be trying to cover himself so that conversation doesn't come up. You wouldn't believe the questions Mom used to ask me about my love life… In fact, if you're curious enough about it, I'll bring you up to speed when I get home tonight."
"It's not just that. That's part of it, but it's something else," Fritz explained. He leaned back against the office desk and folded his arms over his chest. "There's a few other things. Like the fact that they share a bed and that they're always so handsy with each other. Mike probably the least affectionate person I've ever met- except maybe Tabby- but I've still seen him comfort Mari, and not just with a pat on the back."
"You're forgetting that Mike had a girlfriend," Natalie volunteered. "Remember Louise? You have to, her mother's currently standing in the kitchen. Mike and she went out plenty of times."
"And then she was just gone," Fritz point out and snapped his fingers. "Just like that, Louise was out of the picture."
"We don't know that they broke up. Maybe they're taking a break," Natalie volunteered.
"I'll find out tonight," Fritz pointed out. "Mike invited me over to play a few games. I'll ask him while I'm over there and look around. It's easy to tell if someone's in a relationship; I'll check his bathroom and see if she left any makeup or soap behind. I should write this down." He turned towards the desk and grabbed a pad, but was then taken by the shoulder and turned back around.
"Fritz, I really do love you," Natalie began, "…but you have got to get some time off work!" Fritz was startled by the direct tone. "You're 'noticing things' because you're so focused on work that you're looking at anything to take your mind off it. You're talking about going through Mike's bathroom to get evidence that he's not dating an animatronic. An animatronic who, regardless of how human he is, is basically Mike's little brother." At the end of this long explanation, Fritz stood dumbfounded. He sounded insane put that way.
"…You're right," Fritz sighed and rubbed his head. "You're right, you're right. I'm just looking for something to get me going from burnout. This is all just some sort of weird- I'm looking at this the wrong way."
"Right," Natalie agreed.
"Maybe if he was rubbing down Jeremy's legs, but with Mari- It's not the same with the Puppet." Natalie got a weird look at this comment. "I'm still going to head over to Mike's house tonight, but I'm just going to use it to relax a little. I need to get out."
"That's the spirit!" Natalie assured as she smiled at him. "Just take it easy tonight. One of us needs too." She gave him a reassuring hug and they left the office. As though the talk had truly fixed his worries, Fritz didn't notice any strange behavior after that point. It soon became apparent to him that he was just assuming the worst. By closing time, he hadn't seen anything else suspicious between Mike and Marionette, and plans to go to their home stayed intact without trouble. Though Jeremy declined the invitation so that he could stay later at the pizzeria.
It was storming rather roughly by time Fritz parked behind Mike's car in the driveway and rushed to the front door. He let himself in without knocking to avoid another moment in the rain, only a few minutes behind Mike himself. From the soaked jacket already on the rack, it was obvious that Mike had gotten rained on as well. Fritz shirked off his coat as Mike stepped out of the hallway.
"Glad to see I'm not the only one who doesn't keep an umbrella in his car," Mike offhandedly remarked as he headed into the living room. "Before I turn this on, do you want me to get you something?"
"Nah, I'm fine. I think working with children is starting to kill my appetite," Fritz pointed out. Something about the smell of pizza twenty-four seven didn't sit right. Then again, it never sat right when he worked back at Freddy's either, but at least now they didn't have the pleasure of dealing with animatronics that smelled like lumbering corpses. Though it was obvious that they didn't achieve this smell through normal means. There was only so much that a can of aerosol and a dozen air fresheners could do.
The house looked the same as the last time he was here, save that the tree was half undecorated, the presents were missing, and there was a small scratching post now standing at the corner where the living room met the hallway. That, of course, and the new game system set up in front of the television. He already knew it was going to feel good turning off his brain for a little while. Mike only had a handful of games and only one of those was a multiplayer game, but it was easy to get lost in it. It all just seemed so advanced to the two dimensions that usually dominated the games.
By time the storm outside had become nearly deafening and it was as dark as could be, both were sunk into manning a single controller in a horror game. To their dismay, the current tone was less of horror and more of a lopsided tug of war.
"We've been down this way. It let's off at that room where we got the ammo," Mike argued as he steered the character around and started back down a hall.
"We're missing a door or something," Fritz disagreed, "and we're not going to find it if we just keep turning around halfway there."
"We got out of this area twenty minutes ago. I don't even know how we got back here," Mike continued to protest. He chose one of the doors and slipped through, "See, this is where we picked up that note. We've gotten everything out of here already."
"Then why are we back here?" Fritz flatly asked. "Something must have unlocked, or we got a key, or- there! Down that way, right there!"
"We already went through that door. It's the one where the camera angle sticks against the wall," Mike pointed out. Fritz sent him a look, so he gave a shrug. "Alright, sure, I'll go back in." He steered his character into the door. Or it was more 'their' character with how they were both puppeteering it. As expected, it was the same room. "So, what's the plan now? Wait until something respawns?"
"Here, give me the controller. There's got to be a puzzle in here that we're not seeing," Fritz was handed the controller. "There wouldn't just be a room with nothing in it."
"There's been plenty of rooms with nothing but bullets. We literally just passed through a room with nothing in it to get here," Mike pointed out matter-of-factly. He then furrowed his brows and focused back on the screen, "Wait, are we even on the right floor?"
It was then that fate itself decided to play its part and the lights began to flicker. Fritz scrambled to go on the pause menu and only had a few seconds before the power fully went out. The house fell into darkness and the two silently sat there together. A few silent seconds passed before Mike asked, "You didn't get to save, did you?"
"Nope," Fritz bluntly answered. "We get to enjoy all of those rooms again."
"But we did save at some point, right?" Mike continued. He was answered by the sound of Fritz's head falling into his hand. The security guard groaned and shifted around. "Probably for the best. We were running in circles anyway."
"The power's out," a third voice, obviously Marionette, spoke from behind the couch. Mike turned in his direction even though he couldn't see anything.
"What gives you that idea?" Mike asked, voice dripping with sarcasm and his smirk appearing. "It's probably not even worth calling the electric company. Half of the city is probably out at this rate…" Mike wasn't too unfamiliar with losing power, but it brought him back to long nights at Freddy's. Those nights where he could hear the rhythmic tapping of rain on the roof, blending in with the dull sound of the fan. Though then the power going out was a death sentence; here it was a mild inconvenience.
A boom of thunder seemed to rouse Fritz who started to stand. "I'm going to call Natalie and see if theirs is out too," he announced in a tone that showed he was still sour about the lost progress. He awkwardly shuffled through the room with his arms out in front of him to feel along the edge of the couch. Somehow, he made it into the dining room without much trouble.
Upon hearing Fritz start to dial, Mike called out, "Making check-in calls in the middle of the night while the power goes in and out. Brings back memories, doesn't it?" Fritz chuckled a little.
"Actually, if you remember right, most of the time when I was working they had a steady electrical system. No sitting in the dark for Jeremy and me," Fritz pointed out.
"Ah, the lucky ones," Mike teased back. "I suppose you had a fan that didn't cut off half of the time too- spoiled!" He leaned back into the couch with a slow sigh as Fritz began talking on the line. "I guess our night's over," the younger guard muttered. This was one way to end an evening; not necessarily a good one.
"It doesn't have to be," Marionette suggested as he slipped around the couch and knelt beside him. Mike sent a quizzical look through the darkness, to which he felt a hand on his shoulder. Marionette leaned in and proceeded to whisper the idea to him.
"I don't know what I'm going to do, but it's looking pretty rough out, so I'm not rushing home," Fritz explained over the phone. Thankfully, he was still getting reception.
"I don't think I'm going to either. I don't want to overstay my welcome, but it's worth soaking up what electricity I can… Besides, my little sister's getting a little clingy," Natalie responded. In the background, Fritz could hear said younger sister give a small, embarrassed protest, and couldn't help but be amused. "You and Mike don't kill each other, alright? Love you lots!"
"Love you too," Fritz wrapped up and the call came to an end. He ended the call and went to put his cell away when he noticed the sensation of something tugging at his shoe. Without a hitch, he leaned down and reached out until fur briefly passed his fingertips. As soon as it was there it seemed to be gone, with the only noise it made being a few patters. "Either I found your kitten, or you have rats," Fritz announced.
"Considering how many baked goods we just leave lying around, it could be either," Mike called out. Right afterwards, Fritz caught wind of a conversation between the two. "I don't know."
"You could offer. Perhaps Fritz would be interested," Marionette quietly coaxed. Unfortunately, that suspicion that had smothered itself for the last few hours suddenly resurfaced with a vengeance. Fritz tried to push it into the back of his mind as he reached the back of the couch.
"Are you two aren't plotting to kill me behind my back?" Fritz joked to cover up his awkwardness. "If this is revenge for not saving, it's the game's fault for being difficult. Don't shoot the messenger."
"As much as I'd love to throttle myself for that decision, that's not it," Mike quipped with amusement and stood from the couch. "We were wondering if you wanted in on this game we play sometimes. Usually when we've got time to kill and we're feeling like it, we play this sort of… Flashlight tag. You've got your flashlight on you?"
"Maybe I have one in the car," Fritz answered. His suspicion receded again, but was now replaced with confusion. Flashlight tag wasn't exactly the type of game to play inside a house. Especially not in a house of this size. A small light flickered on as Mike clicked on the mini flashlight that he kept on his keyring. "Thanks for offering that when I got up."
"No problem. After all, you did save the game for me," Mike retorted with a small smirk, one that Fritz could hear more than see. "So, here's the rules. Mari tries to come get us and the flashlight drives him off. If we get the flashlight on him before he gets to us, or gets arguably close enough, then he leaves and comes back another way. The goal is to survive until 'morning', which is about eight or nine minutes." As casually as Mike laid all this out, Fritz picked up the obvious parallels between this and a usual night at Freddy's. "You up for it?"
"I don't know. We'll be walking around in the dark…" Fritz pointed out, leaving out the more obvious suggestion; they were playing cat and mouse with an animatronic. Friendly or not, that seemed like a bad way to trigger animatronic programming. Especially when Fritz himself didn't know what was programmed into the animatronics. If what Mike had said about Ennard was true, then it could be especially dangerous. "We might step on the kitten."
"We'll put her in the bedroom. We've got it fixed up for her to stay in during work," Mike explained. With this as a signal, Marionette rose from the couch and went for the kitten, who was now standing near the scratching post, watching the flashlight flicker around. He scooped the kitten into his arms as Mike started heading down the hallway. "I've got a spare in the nightstand. Let me go get it." Fritz had yet to agree to whether he wanted to play this game or not, but let him go.
Now in the dark again, Marionette spoke up, "Would you like to pet her?" In response, Fritz reached out vaguely in his direction. The Puppet took him by the wrist and guided him down to the kitten.
"She's one of Scott's, right? I considered getting one myself, but I never got off the fence long enough to decide," Fritz explained as he scratched the kitten's head. "What's her name?"
"Moppet," Marionette chimed. He was able to see the other's quizzical look in the darkness and added, "Moppet was a kitten in a book I used to read as a child. It seemed to fit." Fritz continued to pet over the small kitten, who began to purr at the attention it was receiving. With Fritz seemingly distracted by the kitten and Mike out of the room, Marionette decided to return to the topic of the game.
"You don't have to do this with us if it makes you uncomfortable. After the years you spent there… Especially considering our history! Goodness, I wasn't even thinking about it when I offered!" He chimed in amusement, but was obviously flustered. "But if you do want to play, just know that this is just a game. Mike and I might get competitive, but we would never let it go too far… Though I should warn you that we might get competitive."
"Seeing how Mike plays games, I'm not exactly surprised," Fritz remarked. In response, Marionette immediately broke into light laughter, with the chiming trailing his voice. The conversation did start to pique Fritz's interest in how this 'game' could be played. "…But alright. I survived Freddy's, so I should be able to survive 'Game Night with Mike and Mari."
"Trust me, it's to die for," Marionette ominously murmured, "and the music box is out of play…" Though his playfulness turned to a small sigh. "Unfortunately, that's the case outside of the game. I don't know if Mike told you, but my music box was broken at Hickory Dickory's. I've been trying to fix it myself- I should know how to fix a music box, but I just can't get it back into working condition." Mike was coming back down the hall, so Marionette intended to let the conversation drop.
"Maybe I could look at it? If the power comes back on. If it doesn't then just bring it into the pizzeria tomorrow and we'll look at it after work." He then looked over in the direction of Mike's flashlight and was offered the second flashlight, the larger one of the two. He flicked it on with a slow exhale, "Alright, I'm in. How do we start?"
"I'll take Moppet into the bedroom, and then the game will start. Consider the night beginning as soon as I shut my bedroom door," Marionette forewarned as he started down the hallway. A few moments later the bedroom door was shut.
"We don't have long," Mike forewarned. "He's going to start coming in every which way, so keep your eyes out. He's just overconfident enough to telegraph, but that doesn't mean much of anything."
"You know, that's funny, but he basically said the same thing about you," Fritz remarked with an amused smirk. While Mike knew this was a joke, part of him felt a little riled by it, as though he knew that Marionette probably still thought that. Then there was a clicking noise from nearby. Both went on high alert.
"What was that- a window?" Mike asked suspiciously as he looked around. "That sounded like a window."
"Why wouldn't he just teleport inside?" Fritz asked with slight confusion.
"I don't remember if there's a rule against it or if he just likes dragging it out," Mike answered as he noticed the curtains ruffling. "He did open the window. Fantastic." The rain was already starting to get inside, but Mike decided not to approach. "It's clearly a trap, so I'm not going over there." He instead started to scan the room suspiciously, hearing a small thump nearby. "He's right around here somewhere," he whispered.
"That's going to get on the outlet under the window…" Fritz muttered as he fixated on the water coming in. The storm and wind were just enough to leave water rolling down the wall towards the unprotected electrical outlet. Something about it just irritated him until he could barely focus. "…I can't do it. I'm going in. I have to shut it." Mike rolled his eyes at the comment.
"Fritz, you're not going to last even a minute if you wander up to the first obvious-." Mike cut off as he heard a creaking and shined the light towards the hallway. "You're distracting us with that. He's going to pop out of somewhere," he cut off as Fritz approached the window. "He's going to pop through that window and drag you off." Yet Fritz leaned in towards the window, ignoring the icy wind and droplets on his face, and started to slowly drag the window downwards. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
Fritz pulse was starting to quicken as the window inched down slowly. It was stiff, dragging itself as lazily as it could, leaving him vulnerable at the window while Mike watched from behind.
It was then that Puppet finally struck-
springing out of the pantry and leaping onto Mike from behind. Mike staggered at the sudden weight, along with the blend of light 'Pop goes the Weasel' and playful chiming from his assailant.
"Mr. Schmidt, I'm not very impressed with that display! You completely had your guard down!" Marionette mockingly scolded. "I thought you were a professional?"
"That didn't count; Fritz sabotaged me," Mike denied, unwilling to admit that he was startled by the sudden jump. "Alright, alright, I had my guard down, but that's not happening again. Let's start this for real." Chiming still, and being watched by Fritz, Marionette mercilessly released the guard and headed back down the hallway. Mike looked to Fritz, who had a sort of self-satisfied smirk on his face. "…Okay, if that was a Foxy he would've bit me. Let's just pretend that didn't happen and start over."
Both Fritz and Marionette seemed a little too amused by all of this to take it seriously. Or even to take Mike himself seriously. He could already feel the competitive edge start to take over as the urge to outperform Fritz started to sink in. Tonight was going to be a long night, and Mike was ready for it.
His mouth was drying out as sweat started to pour down his forehead. It was so hot in the room. Hot, cramped, too tight and claustrophobic to even imagine. He tilted his head back for a moment to look to look towards the roof and stretch his back. As though looking up there was going to fix tonight. There was the sound of thumping nearby and he shuddered as his eyes snapped between the doors, both still closed. They had been parked outside for too long for him to risk it. Even now he knew that the power was about to die.
His eyes snapped to the desk. There was still something he needed to do and, as it was the only thing he could do, it only made sense to do it. Besides, he needed to calm his nerves or he was going to make a mistake that he couldn't take back. Wiping his face off with his hand, he grabbed for the voice recorder on the desk, crossing his legs underneath.
"Hello, hello?" Same words, as though a superstitious mantra. "Hey! Hey, wow, day four. I knew you could do it." His tone wouldn't fool anyone, especially himself. He swallowed through the dryness of his mouth; he would kill for a glass of water right about now. "Uh, hey, listen, I may not be around to send you a message tomorrow." There was a heavy banging on the door. It was probably Foxy, and he cursed himself for not checking the cameras. "It's- It's been a bad night here for me…" The banging continued, and he swore he saw the lights flicker.
"Umm, I-I'm kind of glad that I recorded my messages for you-," the dryness in his throat suddenly culminated into what felt like a ball resting in it. Swallowing didn't seem to erase this 'ball', and instead he gave a short cough. "Uh, when I did." He felt a growing pain in his spine- was it time to take his medicine?- as he leaned over the desk. He didn't want to say what was about to come out.
"Uh, hey, do me a favor," he suggested onto the recording. The banging was growing louder as the lights flickered again. If the power went off, then he wouldn't be able to get to the elevator… Wait, no. The elevator was at Afton's, not here. "Maybe sometime, uh, you could check inside those suits in the back room? I'm going to try to hold out until someone checks. Maybe it won't be so bad." He blinked and wiped the sweat from his face. "Last time wasn't that bad. I just- I don't want to lose the other one."
He leaned down and felt for his leg and felt nothing. "Oh, wait… I forgot to put it on… Huh." Not that he could've run anyway. "Uh, I-I-I-I always wondered-." The power died and the fan suddenly shut off. "What was in all those empty heads back there." He sent a sort of lazy look over at the empty door, seeing the flickering lights of Freddy's eyes and hearing the dull chiming alerting of the impending attack. He could've played dead, he knew it, but it didn't seem important. "You know." There was breathing down the back of his neck, moaning, choking down his neck. "Oh no…"
That moaning down his neck. "That's the noise I made in that suit," he suddenly remembered.
A hot, ill feeling gripped his insides as Freddy's music started to grow quieter until it was fully silent, with the moaning going with it. He wasn't alone, but it was all so brutally quiet in the room. That was, except for the dull sound of dripping. "…What's that?" he inquired out loud. The steady sound of soft dripping was echoing through the office and he looked around the darkness. It didn't look like anything was leaking.
Then he looked at himself. Even in the darkness he could see his body and started to notice the redness spreading over his lap and dripping down the side of his office chair. He leaned forward, noticing how bloodied and flat his pants legs looked from this angle and the fluid pooling on the tiled floor. He reached down and patted over his pants, feeling the warm liquid on his hand and knowing it was his own, and knowing there was nothing underneath the fabric. They had gotten the other one. They had gotten the other one.
A crash, a sudden pain in his hand, and suddenly he was awake. Even though it was still silent and still pitch dark, Scott was suddenly awake.
Disoriented, he scrambled around on his bed, trying to right himself and only half registering the noise. "What was that?! What broke?!" He patted down on the comforter in a panic and felt an instant wave of relief. His leg was obviously there, his prosthetic was nearby, he was in bed, it was night, and Freddy's was long behind him. He focused on the noise and the discomfort in his hand, and soon his gaze went to his nightstand. He couldn't see the lights of his alarm and reached for it. The alarm clock was still there, but it was off, and his glass of water was missing.
"Oh… I just- I freaked out and knocked it off…" That was a simple solution. Then he pieced together the fact that the fan wasn't on and that his clock wasn't on and realized the power was off. The adrenaline returned in full force as the panic sunk in. "Oh no. Not tonight." He opened the nightstand and jammed his hand inside. It was stuffed with random things, but he couldn't find the light he kept hidden inside. "Of all nights, why tonight?!" Perhaps because of the power, he inwardly imagined. In his sleep he must've heard the fan shut off and his dreams shifted accordingly.
He needed to get the lights back on. Scott scooted to the bottom of his bed and reached blindly for his prosthetic, which he fumbled to get on. Memories of the dream came back; the blood, the missing leg, the smell of all that decay. He could even imagine the smell in his sleep and shuddered in disgust at the memory. "It's just a dream. You're fine. We're all fine here." Scott stood to his feet and began to fumble towards the bedroom door. He couldn't see a thing, but he vaguely knew where he was going, following his hands in the darkness.
"Where do I have the other flashlights?... Kitchen drawer- matchbook- fuse box, I can check the fuse box- It's so dark," Scott's mind continued to race as he bumped into the wall by the kitchen. "Why's it so dark?! Shouldn't the streetlight be shining in?!" He tried to look out the kitchen window, which was closed tightly, and saw nothing outside. "The power's out everywhere?!" Listening closely, he could hear the heavy storm outside, and dream started to sink further in. The power was out and wasn't coming back on. The fuse box wouldn't fix this.
"No, wait, let me just try," Scott frantically panicked as he yanked open the kitchen drawer. In his gusto, the drawer came all the way out and dropped from the lack of balance, spilling its contents onto the ground. Scott winced and shirked back, still clutching the drawer, and his pulse racing. "They had to have heard that-!" He then caught himself. "…What am I saying? There's no- there's no 'they'. They're not- They're gone now. They're all gone, except Foxy, and he's in the pizzeria. They're not here. They're all gone." And he knew they were gone, but he still was trembling.
He knelt awkwardly and set the drawer aside so that he could claw through what was dropped. Eventually he found the matchbox and opened it, only to feel something hard inside. "What- Quarters?!" He only vaguely remembered collecting quarters and putting them in the matchbox, but only now once he needed matches. "This isn't happening! I have flashlights all over the house! Where are they?!" In the back of his mind, he wondered if he was just too frantic to find anything in the dark. A much more stable part of his mind suggested returning to bed and waiting it out.
The rest of his mind couldn't stand the darkness a moment longer. He needed the lights on so that he could see his home, see reality, and know that he was safe. Scott stood and stepped over the drawer and hurried to the wall beside the fridge, running his fingers over the panel on the wall. He popped it open and trailed his fingers of the fuse switches.
"Okay, okay, calm down," Scott vocally coached himself. "Let's see, uh… Water heater on the top left, garage across, and living room right… Here." He trailed his fingers down to the appropriate switch and flicked it on. There was no response. "Maybe the one below…" He clicked that one on. "Come on, something has got to do something!" he whispered harsher as he began to wildly fiddle with the switches. In the end, nothing reacted even the slightest bit, and Scott was forced to acknowledge that he couldn't fix this.
Everything suddenly felt colder and emptier. Scott gave a shaky inhale and it caught in his throat. He turned around and trailed the wall out of the kitchen, carefully avoiding the items he had dropped onto the floor. They could be picked up later; for now, he needed to sit down and get his head together. He was beginning to feel lightheaded and his hands were shaking too hard to do much of anything. He found the couch and sat down in the dark, taking a few deep breaths to calm down.
"It's all in your head," Scott mentally coaxed. "It's all just a bad dream. Freddy's is closed; it's all over." He stared blankly into the darkness for a few moments before inching his hand over his knee and down to where flesh turned faux. Even though it was all over didn't mean that it wasn't real. Too much of that dream had been a memory that cut off too early, and now he was only left with filling in what happened next. Hours of pain, of darkness, of a heat that drained into coldness and shuddering, and the wheezing from his own lungs.
Scott's head dropped forward into his free hand and he took another shaky breath. Again, it was broken by a choke, but this time the chokes devolved into sobs. Suddenly Scott was weeping, and he could only assume that it was from the pent-up stress. The stress of Freddy's, the stress of Afton's, the stress of the memories, and the stress of just handling life after it all. He had survived Freddy's, but he hadn't escaped Freddy's unscathed. He was just a lonely man, sitting on his couch in the darkness, crying about his missing leg.
He would've kept crying too, if not for the dull thump from nearby. Scott raised his head slightly and listened in to the noise. The kitchen window had been shut, so he had only assumed that he was alone in the house. Though he hadn't really been thinking about it regardless. He was too distracted to remember that he wasn't alone in the house any longer, or to ask whether his 'boarder' had gotten home.
Scott began to try and force himself to calm down as he turned his head to hear better. He couldn't see anything, but perhaps he could hear if the animatronic was looming nearby. He swallowed thickly and considered wiping his face again, wondering if he could be seen in the dark. Before he even had the chance, something brushed his shoulder. He jolted upright at the touch and his panic started to return. Ennard was standing right behind him. An animatronic was standing less than a foot away and the power was off. He was in trouble.
The last thing he expected was to feel a warm wire trail along his cheek. He inhaled sharply at the sensation, as the wire finger tested the remnants of his tears on his damp cheek. It still surprised him that Ennard's wires were capable of being warm, but that was the last thing on his mind after Afton's. He might have let Ennard live with him, but that didn't mean that he wasn't afraid of him. Part of him was surprised that the wires didn't immediately cinch tight around his neck, but instead continued to lightly touch him.
Then the wires moved away, and Scott could hear the dull sound of steps as the animatronic walked away towards the bedroom and returned a few moments later, circling around the couch. As much as he wanted to run, he was stuck to the couch, just like he had been stuck to the office chair in the nightmare. This time he didn't know if he could handle it. It was one thing to be numbed in a nightmare, but here he was awake, willingly letting this happen after he had nearly been dragged to his death.
A wave of nausea hit as Ennard stopped in front of him. Scott dropped his head, even though it was impossible for him to make any form of eye contact. His breathing was quickening in short, puffing breaths as his hands clutched his knees and tightened on his pants. He had no doubt that if he could see his vision would be amiss, but he wished that the lights were on, that he had that much. He could hear the rustling and squeaking as wires slid against each other, knowing that the animatronic was kneeling, watching him, no doubt able to see the panic on his face.
Suddenly Scott's obsessive fears went away from the Pizzeria and instead returned to the depths of Afton's. Nothing could stop Ennard from slicing him open and trying to force himself inside, and no doubt the animatronic didn't know the difference between what was murder and what wasn't. He recoiled slightly as wire fingers climbed his hand and slid around his wrist, steeped in his paranoia and expecting the worst. Then, smoothly, his hand was turned over and a bottle was placed into his hand. Scott's hand clutched reflexively on his medication.
The urge to open the bottle and take whatever was inside was intense, but Scott didn't know which of the bottles it was, and he knew he would be too flustered to properly identify if it was for his nerves or not. He took the bottle in both hands and trailed his thumbs over it, staring in the direction of the bottle that he couldn't see. Just another pill that he had to take now; another reminder of Freddy's. If not for Ennard starting to lean in, Scott would've gotten lost in his self-pity once more.
Wire arms encircled his torso and tugged him forward into a tight embrace. Scott pulled his arms in to somewhat shield himself, but instead found himself stuck with them trapped in between his own chest and a body of wires. He was fully back together again and no longer emaciated; though Scott knew that from the blips of footage he would get before Ennard would find the camera and somehow sabotage it. He could feel the bow of wires, and had noticed the obvious lack of it when the animatronic had first returned home.
There was a low click as the clown mask opened and Scott shuddered at how close the noise was. "Too close…" he mentally noted. Ennard pulled him in closer, tucking Scott's head under his own, pressing into his hair. Scott could feel the metal and his mind went straight to the sharp teeth he had seen through the camera. He could be bitten clean through, "Way too close." But something stopped him; either the fear, the lingering fatigue, or the warmth from the wires. It started to give him a false sense of security. Or at least, he feared it was false.
With a shaky breath, Scott managed to untangle one of his arms and reached for Ennard's shoulder. He considered pushing him back, his fingers tightening on his shoulder, but in the last moment he stopped. He was just too mentally exhausted to do anything of the sort. Instead, his grip shifted to reach around the animatronic, returning the embrace. If Scott was going to be fearful and stuck in the darkness anyway, then he was going to take whatever warmth he could get in the meantime. He didn't think he could trust Ennard, but he somehow felt safe.
The hum of Ennard's own contentment was almost like the fan. Perhaps if he tried, Scott could fall asleep to it...
Mable: It's almost funny how two people can see a similar experience in such a different light. Mike embraces it as a part of his identity. Scott wishes that he could erase it from his memory. How peculiar… Ah, well, something to consider! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! The next chapter will be posted as soon as it's finished!