The Prize Corner was left in relative silence for a moment, save Marionette's groaning. Marionette, still in relative emotional pain and Mangle still oblivious to that. Until Marionette decided to inflict a bit of pain of their own.
"You know that empty Freddy head that shows up sometimes in the guard office?" They asked out of the blue, tilting their face from the edge of their box to look up at Mangle, their normal smile back in place.
Mangle looked at them when asked the sudden question, "Y-yes?"
The Puppet's smile seemed to stretch slightly as they answered, "It's actually the night guard."
"What?!" Mangle garbled, "This entire ti-ime?!"
"Yup." Marionette replied smugly.
Mangle twitched as they processed the Puppet's words, "And y-you knew?!"
"Yup." Marionette's smugness only increased, enjoying the multi limbed fox's reaction.
Their annoyed vocalizations continued for a moment, "Why didn't you tell anyone then? B-before you realized this guard was apparently good, I m-mean."
Marionette gave a small shrug at the question, "Spite, mostly. Foxy can see through it for some reason, though."
"Oh, of course he can." Mangle sighed.
"Either that or he doesn't care and will leap at whatever's in the office if given the chance." They tacked on, drawing a laugh out of Mangle.
—
Mike sat on his couch, mulling his thoughts over in his head. It was mostly to find the right words for his boss, as he did ask for updates on any of the animatronics' behavior. He didn't really understand it himself. How can one of the most dangerous animatronics go from trying to kill him, to just sitting next to him in peaceful silence, running off dangers he didn't even see?
He shook his head and glanced at his clock, figuring it late enough in the morning to call William and give the update. Mike quickly dialed Afton's number, and heard a few rounds of ringing until the connection was established, "William Afton." The calm voice on the other side announced.
"Hey, sir, this is Schmidt, I'm calling to let you know about what happened on my shift, if you aren't busy." Mike said, still feeling the prickling sensation of anxiousness when talking to his boss.
William hummed for a moment, "I am not busy, Schmidt. In fact that will be relevant after you give your report. Which, if you will?"
Mike stifled a cough and the urge to clear his throat, "Right, sir. Well, There was a small change. As the music box is broken, I was worried I'd have to use the taser you gave me, especially once the Puppet walked into my office. But, it just… sat there, next to my chair throughout the shift. It even warded off an animatronic that tried to sneak in through one of the vents, all on its own."
"Hmm, so the Marionette is becoming less aggressive towards you, but could be increasing in aggressive behavior towards other animatronics. Though, that will depend on how it acts in the coming days." Afton said, his tone conveying some level of interest, "I am glad to hear you did not require the taser, but do hold on to it during your shifts, just in case. I feel you should be informed that Balloon Boy will be out of commission longer than previously thought."
Mike blinked in confusion at Afton's statement, "Uh, did the Puppet do more damage than you thought, sir?"
"No." Came Afton's immediate response, "The damage is actually quite minimal. After I ascertained he was in no danger of worsening in condition, I decided I would hold off on repairing him, and allow Fritz to get some hands on animatronic repair experience, once she is over her illness. Of all animatronics, Balloon Boy is the best candidate for this. A mascot to associate balloons with in the establishment is good, but even the Mangle would be more missed than he will be. And it will be nice to confirm Fritz' skills, we need more technically inclined individuals in the Pizzeria beyond just Henry and myself. Will you be able to come in for your shift tonight, Mr Schmidt?"
"Yeah, I can. No problem there." It wasn't even a lie. If anything, a part of him was excited to return to work, something he would have found insane just a few nights ago. With the prospect of the Puppet not being a threat, it just added a pull that hadn't been there before.
"Alright then, Schmidt. Get some rest, and may you have a fine shift tonight." William said, before the call ended.
Mike relaxed into his couch, running his hand through his hair, his mind consumed with what would happen the next night. He wondered how the Puppet's change would affect the status quo. Would it just be the new normal? The Puppet by his side? He didn't feel like it would, with such a big adjustment to the routine, he could only believe that further, perhaps even bigger changes were going to follow.
As Mike sat there, pondering the job that he once almost dreaded going to, night after night, and how, now, upon seeing the Puppet change, see it become something of an ally, for the first time Mike couldn't help but feel almost happy to go back to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.
—
Marionette was beginning to feel the effects of their missing music box, as they handed a Bonnie plush to a smiling child. They had gotten used to it, gotten used to the quick naps during the night that it brought. Resting normally just felt alien to the Puppet at that point. Uncomfortable.
The music box, the thing they had loathed from time to time, as it stopped them from bringing monsters to justice, not only stopped them from killing apparent innocents, which was something they refused to unpack just yet, but also had allowed them to be better prepared for the purpose they were built for.
Well. Secondary purpose. Yet another thing Marionette shoved to the depths of their memory, as they tallied another happy child's prize tickets.
They could hardly understand how they functioned back before Henry had brought in that music box, a melancholy smile on his face as he laid it on the shelf, when Marionette searched their memories, they could recall him mentioning something about the tune, though not what exactly. But, Henry was the one to install the music box at the Prize Corner, with a small doohickey built into the shelf to allow remote winding. Before he brought it, Marionette had been like all the rest, hunting during the night and working during the day, not a hint of fatigue or tiredness. They lightly glared at the Toy Band as they performed for a relatively large birthday gathering, envious of their apparent ability to withstand twenty four hour activity.
Their gaze slowly drifted to the floor as the last child ran from the Prize Corner, allowing them to drop and sit halfway in their present box, sitting against the inside of the box, and letting their arms rest on its edge. They idly wondered, had they started to break down? They could only remember being given maintenance once, and that had been years ago. So many years ago, after a rainy night. And ever since they had never felt so tired, or fatigued, or hazy. The last time they had been opened up, the Toys hadn't even been made yet, Foxy was still performing, the fan favorite he was; Marionette could sometimes still see children, teenagers mostly, running about with Foxy merch. Masks and T-shirts, earned from the old Pizzeria's prize counter. The Old Band was still missed by those who grew up with them, even if their parents regarded any animatronic under the Fazbear umbrella with suspicious glances, the rumors and myths obviously haunting their thoughts.
Marionette recalls hearing whispers from the workers, they believe it came from a woman working as a technician. Apparently Afton and Emily kept going back and forth on what to do with the Old Band. Dismantle, use for parts, refurbish and expand the restaurant with two full bands to play on nostalgia, clear out old merch, and maybe even open up bigger party packages that could be afforded with the additional animatronics.
The Pizzeria had been doing well recently, rebuilding back to its peak, they mused that it might have to do with two factors. One, it had been years since… the incidents. The thing that set the animatronics on their path of destruction during the night. And, whether by luck, or the animatronics crusade bearing fruit, no child had been so much as hurt at Fazbear's in well over a decade. A miracle in itself that Fazbear's didn't go under, after so much public outcry.
And two, the animatronics had been failing to kill night guards lately. Years, even. Marionette thought, unsure whether to regard the thought with venom or relief. Employees leaving of their own will rather than in body bags did wonders for the Pizzeria's PR. They still scared off guards though, in their attempts to kill. All except two had fled from their machinations. One guard who survived quite a long time before moving to the day shift, though he sometimes worked nights when Mike couldn't. Either a fool, or a brave man in his own right. A man, who too, could be innocent, Marionette realized. Then there was Mike. Longest running guard who refused to die, which in hindsight, brought joy to Marionette's circuits.
Before, they had utterly loathed the purple night guard who thwarted them night after night. The purple guard, whose mistakes were story book and climactic. Dodging Foxy, and holding off Marionette's choking grasp until the toll of six o'clock. Near misses that let him walk away without a scratch. Worry for the other animatronics had been the only thing stilling Marionette from breaking the rules, getting the others destroyed by management in exchange for a single purple life.
But he wasn't purple, not to their eyes, not anymore. He was Mike, the courageous man, with cute, short, brown hair and stunning blue eyes, features that were once lost in a purple haze that were now set free to be seen. A man who, somehow, for some reason, came in again and again, survived again and again. And once Marionette had discovered that, and sat by his chair that night and he looked at them, he didn't even hold any anger, any fear in his eyes when he gave them that smile. His smile had been so genuine.
Marionette's mind wandered to Mangle's words, how Mike would be coming in again that night. They'd be able to sit next to him again, help protect him again.
They kept their smile steady as a new group of children rushed inside, as they themself rose from their box. They would be strong, bring joy to the children during the day, then bring safety to Mike in the night. Their new determination flared into happy chimes, as they set to attending the children who came for their well earned prizes, on their well earned, happy day.
—
Mike was not impeded by the sudden appearance of one of his bosses the next time he walked into the Pizzeria late at night. He power walked through the empty rooms and halls towards his office, even if a part of him wanted to detour over to the Prize Counter and say 'hi' to the Puppet, but he quelled that part of him by reminding it the Puppet would probably come to him anyway.
He sat in his chair, readied his flashlight and made sure the Freddy mask was within reach. Mike was prepared for another night at Freddy's. He still had a few minutes before things really kicked off, so he closed his eyes and slowly did a breathing exercise he had learned about. Getting into a proper mindset to face the dark. It never hurt, at least, he thought so. With one final deep breath, Mike opened his eyes only to stifle a scream as he threw on the Freddy mask.
Hanging from the entryway frame was the Mangle, giving him a strange look with its twin heads. If he knew what a normal expression would be for the tangle of metal. He breathed heavily through the Freddy mask, waiting for the animatronic to lose interest and leave.
But it didn't.
The multi limbed fox leaned further in, latching onto the inside frame of the doorway, inspecting the Freddy Mask far more than it should have. It tilted its head, and then did what no animatronic had done before. It spoke, "A-ah, so this is the F-Freddy mask trick Marionette talked about." It went from interested to almost happy in its tone, "H-hey there night guard! Good w-work on that! It's fooled everybody! I-I just wanted to come by, say h-hi since Marionette said that you're a safe person. So, d-don't get scared if I pop on by to k-keep up appearances."
Mike just sat there, stunned, "You can talk?" He asked, almost without meaning to.
Mangle chuckled, and nodded, "Why, o-of course I can! I-I was made to perform after all. But, can't s-stay all night. Have to keep up appearances and all. T-the others still don't know you're safe, bu-ut we're working on that. Don't die security guard Mike! That'd make Marionette really s-sad."
And with that, Mangle shuffled off in its own unique way, as Mike sat there too shocked to even call out to demand more answers.
He just sat there for a few moments, processing exactly what happened before taking the mask off, placing it on the table and placing both of his hands on his face. "What?" To occupy his mind, he flipped through the cameras, making sure no other surprises went his way.
The Mangle's words wormed their way through him. The Puppet- no, Mangle had said Marionette hadn't it? They? He shook his head and continued to think. Their words implied they had spoken to the Marionette, and the Marionette said he was safe. What did that mean? Did the animatronics think he was a danger to them before?
But one thing Mangle had said stuck out in his mind. They knew his name, 'Security guard Mike' they said. They had been told his name, and could take that information, and apply it to him. Which meant somebody had told the Mangle.
A small chill ran up Mike's spine as the realization dawned on him. The Marionette could speak.
But why hadn't they spoken to him before? What caused them to default to trying to kill him, and other night guards without an ounce of communication? Sure, it was unbelievable, but why not try?
Mike roughly ran a hand through his hair, not knowing what to make of everything. But, for some reason, he felt a slight amount of guilt, as a twinge of fear went through him at the thought of Marionette coming to his office that night.
—
Marionette blinked open their eyes to the darkness of their present box and groaned. They cracked open the top of their box to see what time it was. After the day had begun to wind down, before it was properly time for the night shift, but after closing, they simply wanted to rest for a bit, to prepare for Mike's return so they could help him through the night. But as they rose from their box, they knew they had definitely overslept.
Their internal music box let out a less than musical grinding noise as they slapped themself on the mask, before fear gripped them. What if one of the others had gotten to him? The Old Band upping their aggression in response to knowing Marionette was protecting him?
If they could breathe, they knew they would be hyperventilating, as their music box whined out a few strangle notes, and their wires felt like they tightened inside them. They tried to scramble from their box, tripping over the edge and narrowly guarding their mask from meeting the tiled floor, but refused to waste further time on pity. They quickly righted themselves from their fall, previous tiredness gone to the flames of worry.
The thought lingered on in their mind as they slightly rushed past the Toys' stage, what if someone had already gotten Mike? This thought was neatly shelved for the moment, like a cherished bomb set to the side on the off chance it was needed. Marionette did not know what they would do if one of the others had killed Mike. It would be like failing again, failing to save an innocent life. They continued to rush, not paying heed to any potential animatronics around them as they power walked down the hall and burst through the threshold to the security office.
Mike jumped at their sudden entrance, putting a hand over his heart, "Warn me next time, will you?" He said, with just a hint of exasperation.
Marionette let out a 'sigh' of chimes, feeling their body relax at the sight of Mike, unharmed, unbothered. Worries abated, they gently walked over and sat down next to his chair, glad to not have been too late. Although a slight feeling of shame passed over Marionette, at the immediate thought that Mike, who had survived all the animatronics trying to kill him at once, would falter and fail the one night Marionette was an hour late or something.
'But,' Marionette thought, 'He did forget to wind my music box that night.' So, maybe a bit of apprehension towards his safety was warranted.
Mike turned to Marionette slightly, keeping an eye on the monitor as he examined the Puppet, "Were you worried about me?" He asked, curiosity clear on his voice.
Marionette ducked their head, embarrassed to have been so obvious, but they nodded all the same to confirm his suspicions, light, subdued chimes accompanying the nod.
He gave a small smirk at the admission, "Well, it's nice to know that someone has my back in here." His words eased Marionette's embarrassment at least a little, allowing them to straighten slightly as Mike continued, "But, how was your day? Like, I only really know you guys here at night, and haven't really been here during the day."
They tilted their head at the question, a single music box note playing from them as they pondered their answer, how to answer. They eventually settled on shrugging their shoulders before letting their posture slump, hoping to convey their fatigued state to the guard.
"Tired, huh? Guess you're missing your music box more than I thought." He said, Marionette able to detect some sympathy in his voice.
They let out a few chimes to his response. They still didn't know exactly how to feel about the music box, if only because it was intertwined with the thoughts they'd yet to unpack, to properly address within themself. But that could wait until later, after Mike had gone home, after he was safe.
He nodded and turned a bit more to his monitor as he flicked through the cameras, "I was told they were looking to either build or buy a new music box for you, just don't know when they'll get around to it. You know Freddy's. 'Face of fun,' at least until they have to maintain one animatronic regularly."
Marionette chimed a bit of laughter, appreciating Mike's more talkative nature for the night.
"Speaking of Mangle. They already visited me tonight." His words caused Marionette to tense, Mangle's words from that morning flooding back to them, "They spoke to me, you know. Mentioned you. They called me Mike." They felt their head begin to hang, uncertain of what he might say next, unprepared, "Which means someone had to tell them my name."
Silence dominated the office, as Mike did one more round of flashlight checks, vent, hall, vent, and then he let the silence linger even longer.
Until he spoke again, "You can talk, can't you."
It wasn't a question, despite the wording. His tone held conviction, belief, and that sent an unpleasant shudder through Marionette's circuits. They simply held their head down, refusing to make eye contact, and yet, a part of them forced their head to bob up and down, to confirm his belief.
A tone they couldn't quite ascertain laid over his voice next, "I won't claim I understand why you chose to keep that from me. Either last night, or my first night on the job. Gods knows that would have sped this all up, 'Hey are you a danger to anybody?' 'No, I don't think so.' 'Oh, good.' Would have saved me some sleepless nights at least."
Marionette let out a few unintentional notes, as they looked to their hands, and noticed them begin to shake. They had their reasons, their beliefs for not speaking, at least before the night with the music box. But to hear him plainly lay it out, they couldn't help but feel like they betrayed him. Failed him.
They stayed like that, looking at their shaking hands, until Mike spoke up, apparently seeing their state, "Hey, it's okay." He said, the odd tone gone, his voice instead comforting, drawing the Puppet's gaze to his own, "Yeah, it was a bad situation before, but that's not the situation now. I don't really understand why you haven't spoken to me, maybe you're shy, or something, but let me make it clear, I don't want to pressure you into talking if you don't want to, okay?"
His assurances let Marionette relax from the sudden tension. They had feared they had messed up again, but as luck would have it, Mike was a forgiving sort, it seemed. A few, light chimes left them, as they tried to convey their thanks to the guard, but felt that lacking. They tentatively raised one of their striped arms and placed it on his shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze to try and tell him without words that they were thankful.
The friendly gesture brought a smile to Mike's face, "Besides, we have something nice going on here. You being friendly alone is enough for me." He looked them over a little, his smile morphing to a small frown, "But, you do seem pretty tired. If you need to rest, feel free to lean on me."
Marionette tilted their head, unsure of the offer. Sure, they were tired, but they wanted to look out for Mike. They had already nodded off without meaning too once, and they didn't want to leave Mike without their protection.
But Mike's frown changed back into that friendly smile, "Come on, you looked after me last time, I think I can look after you for one night."
They sat still, mulling over the offer, the temptation of rest, and with chimes like a sigh, they scooched over and gently leaned into Mike's side. As their head laid against him, they lied to themself, claiming it was just to keep Mike from getting distracted. After all, if he was too busy fussing over them, one of the others could sneak in and hurt him. Yes, it was just to let Mike work more efficiently. That was it.
Pretty quickly, they found themself drifting into rest, perhaps not fully asleep, but so temptingly close. As they bordered on the line of sleep, something gently came and brushed at the back of their head, at first causing them to tense, but as the gentle ministrations continued, as they took in Mike's presence, they slowly let rest take them.
—
Mike looked down at the resting Marionette, as his hand gently brushed the back of their head. It was such an odd situation, he thought. The 'always thinking' Marionette resting at his side, and he didn't feel a single ounce of fear or worry. If anything, he felt safer.
As he observed the animatronic, seemingly sleeping in a way no computer sleep mode resembled, his mind drifted to his meeting with Mangle. How they said Marionette would be sad if he died. That sent a bit of guilt through his veins, doubting the care of the oddly gentle Puppet. It almost felt like an honor, to have made some kind of bond with the Marionette, to the point it would mourn him were he to die. It was oddly touching, that one of, if not the most, deadly animatronic had come to care for his well being, maybe even more than his own management.
The taser in his pocket weighed heavier than ever to his mind. It could have been a dangerous temptation that last night. If he had reached for it, had struck at the Marionette, how things could have changed, been ruined. The idea of harming the Puppet tasted like bile in his mouth.
But that didn't matter. He didn't know what would happen next. Apparently Mangle wasn't a threat anymore, so that made two animatronics he didn't have to worry about anymore. Which was an odd notion. He couldn't imagine letting Mangle rest against him, although if he were to be fair, he couldn't have imagined letting the Marionette rest against him not so long ago. Yet there he was, comforting a tired Marionette that adorably slept against him.
The entire notion of the situation Mike found himself in drew a chuckle out of him. After so many nights of escaping death and injury, to get to this point, he had to admit, maybe it wasn't so bad to be working at Freddy's.