To Mike, the night was easy. Even if he had to awkwardly maneuver his arm around the sleeping Marionette so as not to wake them, he really only had to worry about keeping his ears primed for movement in the vents and keeping Foxy at bay. He found a decent bit of amusement in the frequent glances the more up front and personal animatronics gave towards Marionette as they leaned against him.
Although a small part of him was screaming in fear that one of the animatronics would finally put two and two together, and strangle him where he sat. Strangely, a decent chunk of that screaming part of him was mostly worried for Marionette's rest, and how a violent awakening would be counterproductive. He just really hoped the Freddy Mask trick did something to their senses and overwrote their higher thinking capabilities, if Mangle and Marionette were any indication, every bot in the building was highly intelligent. Which made their want to murder him almost worse, but hopefully his reports to Afton would bring some kind of cease fire on the night guard animatronic war of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria.
He hadn't seen Mangle after that early meeting, and had mostly been fending off the old animatronics, their states of disrepair bringing an edge of terror to their hunting. In fact, aside from Mangle, the only Toy animatronic that had tried to check on him was Toy Chica, eyes and beak missing, which Mike never understood. Were they uncomfortable or something? The missing accessories did wonders to change her suggestive design into something intimidating. She scared him more than Toy Bonnie at least.
The scariest moment of the night for Mike, however, had to be the Old Freddy, getting in far too quietly for something his size, and leaning over the desk with his immense height. Now that, that part was normal. The scary part was how the old mascot lingered despite the mask, how he slowly turned his head to stare at Marionette as they slept, and how his eyes ever so slightly narrowed, at both Mike and the resting Puppet before leaving.
He prayed to the great puppeteer in the sky that that bear was just dumb enough to not figure it out.
With no immediate threat bearing down on him, he decided to check the cameras, to see potential threats coming his way, but instead was met with a strange sight. The three members of the Toy band were standing near their stage, looking at each other.
"Huh, that's weird." Well, so long as they weren't on their way to ruin his night, he supposed he could look past any non threatening odd behavior. He glanced to the Marionette by his side. Afterall, he'd be a bit of a hypocrite to complain about odd, non life threatening happenings going on in the Pizzeria.
—
"What did you say?" Toy Bonnie asked in light surprise.
Toy Chica rolled the lights in her eye sockets, "I said, Marionette is freaking sleeping in the guard office. But it's super weird. I sized up the guard from the vent, but the moment I crawled out to get him, that stupid empty Freddy head is there, and it's almost like Marionette wasn't moved at all, 'cause they were leaning ON the night guard! How the hell can a purple guard do that?"
Freddy frowned and stroked his chin, "Curiouser and curiouser. Bonnie, you go next. If you see anything weird, come back and let us know."
"Aye aye, boss man." Bonnie said with a mock salute, before he began to make his way to the hall.
He did as he always did once he got to the hall and quickly dashed into one of the empty party rooms. He glanced towards the camera but found it off, potentially allowing him the element of surprise. With stealth on his side, he prepared to run to the next room, to access the vent, but the sound of voices, soft voices stopped him.
Squinting in confusion, he sidled to the doorway, and listened, "Shh, be a bit quiet if you can, they're sleeping now. They were pretty tired from what I saw."
The guard was… talking to himself? Bonnie might have assumed he'd finally gone insane, only for shock to run through his systems as he heard Mangle's distinctive voice, "A-aw, I don't think I've ev-ver seen them sleep outside their box before. And they're leaning on you too. It's nice to s-see them find someone they trust."
What the hell was Mangle doing talking to the night guard? Bonnie thought to himself, not daring to peek yet lest he be caught, "It's been a big surprise to me too, but a pleasant one. Having less animatronics out for my blood is a relief at least." The guard said.
"I-I'm just glad things have c-changed here. It's nice having a night guard I don't need to hunt." Mangle said, cheerfulness ringing clear through their static.
"How did you learn about that anyway? And how come the others haven't?" The guard asked.
Mangle chuckled lightly in an attempt to keep their noise low, "Well, the o-others had a meeting about Marionette's actions and started to bicker, so I just asked M-Marionette directly."
"Huh, maybe they're making a support group for murder bots, 'cause they looked like they were having another one just a little while ago." The guard replied, "Chica and Freddy are still there, but Bonnie's bounced."
That caused Bonnie to tense, though that only got worse when he heard Mangle shift, "H-has h-he no-ow-ow?" They said in especially glitched speech.
Deciding he had heard enough, Bonnie dashed away from the party rooms and toward the main room instead. If he was lucky, he could claim he didn't hear anything, well in earshot of Mangle at least. Freddy and Chica had to hear what he learned.
Said two animatronics locked their eyes on the approaching rabbit, probably not expecting him back so quickly, at least Chica if her words were any indication, "What's got you bouncing, bunny?" She asked, almost in a forced nonchalant-ness.
Bonnie tried to find his words for a bit too long it seemed, as Freddy gently waved his mic, "Come now Bonnie, you look like something's eating at you, lay it out to us and we'll deal with it."
"Mangle was talking to the night guard," Bonnie blurted out, causing the bear and bird to come up short, "I was gonna make a run for one of the rooms with the vents, right? But then I heard the guard talking, which was weird, like no guard makes noise if they don't have to. But then Mangle responded and was sharing stuff with him." He stopped for a moment to gather himself before deciding to throw probably the most important piece, "Mangle spoke to Marionette after our last meeting."
There was silence between the three Toys, until Chica spoke, "Ugh, that's not good. What're we gonna do Freds?"
Freddy tentatively stroked his chin, "We're gonna have to proceed very carefully from now on. Very carefully."
The three Toys shared glances of uncertainty, though Freddy himself seemed to hold more conviction in his eyes, than had been there before.
—
Before Mike knew it, his six A.M alarm sounded, alerting him to his time of safety. He relaxed into his chair and let out a sigh, his second meeting with Mangle had simultaneously made him feel safer and more stressed.
'I don't wanna get caught in the middle of murder bot politics,' Mike thought to himself as he ran a hand through his hair. With his shift coming to an end, he turned to the still form of Marionette, seeing they haven't woken from his alarm. It was a slightly eerie sight, as they were an animatronic without lungs with which to breathe, nor the need to, so their almost lifeless form bothered the deeper recesses of Mike's mind.
Shrugging off those thoughts though, Mike reached down and gently shook the Puppet, "Hey, it's six, so time to get up." He said quietly.
That seemed to do the trick, as they slowly leaned away and almost seemed to stretch before turning to the guard. Mike stood and offered his hand to Marionette, who hesitated for a moment or two, before accepting it, allowing Mike to help raise them from the ground.
It was an odd sensation, the Marionette's hand. It had too few fingers compared to a human's, and even in those few seconds of aiding them to their, well, not feet, he could feel the hidden strength behind the soft fabric that encased the Puppet. Mike resisted the urge to hold their hand a bit longer to sate his curiosity, not wanting to cross any boundaries the Marionette may have.
Feeling rather awkward just standing there, Mike simply began to move down the hall, and as he did Marionette quickly matched his walking speed, as they moved to the main room of the pizzeria.
Mike glanced toward the Puppet as they let out a few chimes that almost sounded inquisitive, "Not much happened while you slept. Toy Chica and old Freddy getting a little too curious for my taste." Their chimes changed to a more worried sound, "None of them actually did anything, maybe linger and stare, but Mangle visited a second time, and was a nice palate cleanser. Really it was a calm note, so I hope the rest you got was good."
They turned to him more, happy little chimes ringing as their mask shifted slightly, their eyes squinting slightly while the smile widened, as if to portray a more sincere expression. Though odd, he was fairly certain that mask was meant to be solid and unchanging, but he stopped trying to question every little Fredd's thing ages ago. Either way, Marionette's cheerful expression brought a smile to Mike's face as well, glad to have given back to the Marionette in some way.
Once they stood before the double doors that led out into the wider world, Mike stopped for a moment and turned to the Puppet, "Just wanted to thank you again. You've made the nights a lot more bearable." The striped animatronic bashfully waved a hand, to casually dismiss the thanks, only to freeze slightly as Mike placed his hand on their shoulder, "Really. And if you ever want to talk, near future or far, I'll be all ears."
The two of them stood there, for just a moment, human night guard with his hand on the shoulder of a definitely dangerous animatronic, and then, Mike looked like he had no tension whatsoever, no fear, just a friendly smile shining onto a perpetual grin.
Mike gave their shoulder one last pat, as he turned to leave, but not without giving them a wave, "See you next shift, alright?"
Marionette was a little late, as Mike's back was fully turned, walking out into the lot by the time they raised their hand to wave goodbye. They remained there, still for a while, as their waving hand found its way to the shoulder Mike had held, "See you next shift. Mike."
—
William watched with mild amusement as Fritz angrily looked around Balloon Boy's inner mechanisms.
"Why can't you just fix him yourself, Will?" She asked, frustration clear on her voice.
He chuckled and moved around the work table, "Because we need someone not named Afton or Emily who can work on animatronics without losing their hands, Fritz. And while it is a poor fate for our dear Balloon Boy, it is an ample experience for you."
She groaned and laid her head on the table, "Why does the concept of balloons even need an animatronic? Let alone this complex? He isn't even built like the other animatronics!"
"To be fair, the Marionette is not built like the rest of our animatronics either." William supplied.
Fritz scoffed, "Yeah, but that thing, like, never even breaks down. I swear it's a tank wrapped in a sock monkey."
The odd comparison stilled William for a moment, "Well, that tank was the reason we need to fix Balloon Boy anyway." Fritz sent him a questioning look, "Punted him into a wall. Looked damned proud of it too."
That caused Fritz to really pause, blinking in confusion, "Where the hell have I decided to work?"
"A place of fantasy and fun." He took the chance to cheekily say, earning a rather rude gesture from the technician in training. Before he could respond, his phone began to ring, "I'll take this, keep looking over Balloon Boy in my absence."
Fritz gave a groan for an answer as William stepped away. He wondered what the night guard would have to say this time. William couldn't deny his interest being piqued by the increase in strange goings on in his Pizzeria, although, he wouldn't begrudge a possible return to some level of normalcy, but he wasn't naive enough to expect that.
He clicked a button and put his phone to his head, "William Afton."
"Hey sir, Mike Schimdt here. I assume you're free for my report?" The voice of their primary night guard spoke from the other end, as expected.
William nodded his head, even if the guard wouldn't see it, "I am, Schmidt. Please, go ahead."
"Well, uh, I guess you could say there's been a bit of a development." That certainly intrigued William, who remained silent, allowing Schmidt to continue, "The first development was the Marionette was very, I guess, fatigued tonight. So I let them sleep against me during my shift, they seemed to perk up after that."
An interesting development, an animatronic that felt tiredness and could enter their rest mode at will? Something to think on later, "That is definitely something we'd like to know about, thank you Schmidt. Anything else?"
There was a slight pause, telling William that there indeed was something else, "Yes sir, well, the Mangle sir, they spoke to me, and not in a pre-recorded performance sort of way. They knew my name because the Marionette told them."
William's breath hitched at that, that should be impossible. Sure, he and Henry built some damn fine, state of the art entertainment animatronics, but sharing information between each other like that, such hyper specificity of retaining a name, learning it then using it correctly… "Are you absolutely certain, Schmidt?"
"Oh damn sure, sir. And not only that, but when I confronted the Marionette, they seemed distressed over me calling them out on it, and while they didn't actually speak, they confirmed they are capable of it."
The influx of information forced William to sit down, to steady himself. Now, the Marionette, Henry's pet project after… that happened, was capable of noise, but speech? No, it shouldn't be capable. Much like how Balloon Boy shouldn't be able to scream in terror or pain, he realized. He looked to his phone, a certain feeling welling in the pit of his stomach, "There's more, isn't there?"
He heard Mike give a sigh on the line, "Yeah, when Mangle visited me later that night, they seem to be friends with Marionette from how they spoke, and they said some other things you probably should know. First off, it seems Marionette told Mangle that I was, and I quote, 'safe,' and according to Mangle the other animatronics don't know that I am safe. Well, they also told me not to die, 'cause that would make Marionette sad. You know, instead of it being nice for me to not die I guess."
William frowned at that particular bombshell. "That… that is a lot."
"You're telling me, boss."
He ran a hand over his face, "Well, thank you Mr Schmidt, this is highly important information. Please, get some rest, you have earned."
The night guard gave a chuckle, "Sure thing boss. Here's hoping things are looking up, eh?"
And with that the phone went silent. William fell back into the chair, his mind racing. He had heard of the odd events night guards faced, seen the aftermath of a few as well. Had to pull a few strings when one night guard was shoved into one of the second gen spare suits, and really had to make it up to their phone operator after his close call when he doubled as night security during a bad time. But they had learned, identified reasons as to why that happened, why the animatronics targeted lone night guards but no one else, figured out the rituals that exploited their recognition software, tricked their optics with light, and appeased the Marionette with music. Phone Guy had helped with most of that, his fanboyish nature soaking up the animatornics' behavior like a sponge. They were just glitches, isolated, predictable workplace hazards like anywhere else, just specialized.
Except Schmidt claimed otherwise. A part of William's mind roared in outrage, almost wanting to call him back and fire him for lying, as he had to be. There was no way Toy Foxy could form her own sentences, retain and convey information beyond her programming, no way for the animatronics to share information like that. Some coordination for shows, yes, but not extraneous irrelevant data that played no part in the entertainment.
But William couldn't help but feel a chill, that Schmidt wasn't lying, that his and Henry's creations were… more than they should have been. Yet another worry inked its way through his mind, however, if the animatronics were, for lack of a better term, alive, then what did Toy Foxy mean by calling Schmidt 'safe?' What implications laid in the information that the other animatronics beyond Toy Foxy and the Marionette saw Schmidt as not safe, a threat and what sort of threat could night guards pose to them? But more damningly, could the animatronics, his life work, could they have acted not on glitches and unfortunate programming collisions, but instead actual emotion and their own twisted logic? The Freddy head still worked, so some of it was programming, but their decisions, if they were truly their own…
He sighed roughly and stood from his chair, he needed a break from thinking. He moved through his house until he came to the door to the living room, hearing sounds that lit his heart alight with joy. Though he could not see, hadn't yet turned the corner, he could hear the telltale sounds of video game sound effects and sibling rivalry.
"Michael! How do you do that?" A girl's voice complained.
An older boy's voice responded, a playful smugness coming through, "I just know the tricks of the trade. Maybe if you keep at it, you might actually be a challenge someday."
William turned the corner to see his children deep in contest with each other through the home video game system. His darling daughter, with her blonde hair slightly frazzled, and Michael, being a good older brother by teasing her through video game competition without going too overboard.
A part of William always worried about his children, if they would get along, after everything. But, after that, the years had luckily been kind to William and his children, and for that he was grateful, even if the gratefulness sent guilt running through him. His thoughts drifted to Henry, and all that he had lost.
He'd have to tell Henry about the developments with the animatronics. He should know. Who knows, perhaps it might give Henry a goal, something to occupy his mind a bit, but that was for later. "So, who's the game champion of the day?" He asked his children, who turned to him, with beaming smiles.
Telling Henry could wait another hour or two.
—
Marionette felt like they were on a roll. The day was bustling with children and parties and pizza, and not an ounce of fatigue afflicted the animatronic puppet. With happy chimes they tallied tickets and gifted out prizes in smooth motions that didn't skip a beat. There was something to the day for Marionette, perhaps it was the security of trusting the night guard and the knowledge Mangle was on their side. Perhaps it was because they had gotten a decent rest the night before. Either way, Marionette couldn't recall when they had felt more alive.
One thing that did dampen their enjoyment however, was a phantom of purple, walking among the partygoers among different shades of purple and children. The security guard, working to ensure the chaotic hustle and bustle didn't get out of hand. Marionette didn't know exactly how, but they knew who he was, not by name or face, but they, and the other animatronics as well, knew him to be the night guard before Mike. He had gotten moved to the day shift after a week or two of surviving the animatronics' onslaught. Marionette didn't know why he had stayed to work at all, but a new question burned through their mind.
Was he like Mike? Was he an innocent, gentle soul who somehow found the bravery to stare death in the face, and only slightly flinch?
They almost loathed the new thoughts, the new doubts. It was so much easier to see purple and attack should the purple be isolated and alone, so much easier to 'know' they were right, that they were protecting the innocent. But what if another purple person was like Mike?
Marionette turned their vision, sweeping it across the various patrons of the Pizzeria. The purple didn't stick to everyone, but there were so many. All of them adults, Marionette couldn't remember ever seeing a purple child, but with adults, older teens, there were so many that were purple.
But not all of them. A mother here, a father there, an elderly couple singing a young girl's birthday song. Even William and Henry, the owners of the Pizzeria, Marionette never saw them as purple. Not when Henry had brought them the music box so long ago, not when William scolded them for breaking Balloon Boy -They'd need to apologize to Balloon Boy- but so many other adults were perpetually purple to their eyes, and every part of Marionette screamed of the danger the purple held.
For the first time in Marionette's life, they questioned why. Why did they see so many people as purple, and why was that a sign that they were dangerous, a threat to be put down?
They looked back, trying to remember if there was ever a time they didn't see purple. They dug through their memory, as far as it could go. But no matter what, ever since they could remember having memory, ever since that night, at least some people had appeared purple. Especially that purple silhouette in the rain.
Marionette took a moment to center themself, to drag themself back to the present. All they could do was learn, try to stop the others from potentially hurting people who haven't even done anything, slowly but surely. Perhaps then they could work toward making up for what they have done. Their mind flashed back to the guilt they felt when Mike spoke to them, said with such certainty that they could speak. They could start there, once Mike returned.
But until then, they had a purpose to fulfill, one that was simple, and without nuance, or areas of grey. They had to force their smile to stay still and not grow, as yet more children started to run towards the Prize Corner, tickets practically spilling from their arms. Giving gifts, giving memories that could linger beyond those of a child's mind, they could do that for the day.
They tallied the tickets and gave out the prizes, brightening the day of many a child.
"M-miss Puppet?" A child's voice asked, causing Marionette to turn downwards, "I-I know that I d-don't have the tickets, I never do," They added in a crestfallen whisper, "But, could I still have that one please?" The small child pointed up, towards the more coveted prizes, a Chica plushie.
Marionette paused, a plush took a lot of tickets, and they really weren't supposed to hand out prizes all over the place. They glanced back to the child, in their hand me down clothes and band aid on their elbow, their eyes filled with a sadness, like a child's desperation possessed them to even ask. Marionette's smile quirked.
They looked around before gently reaching up, the child's sadness evaporating into shock and excitement. As the striped animatronic handed the Chica plush to the child, they raised a lithe finger to their porcelain lips.
The child nodded excitedly, a wide smile on their face, "It'll be our little secret, right?"
Marionette returned the nod, and gently pushed the child to run along before someone saw, to which the child did, practically skipping.
It wasn't like anyone really paid close attention to the dealings of the Prize Corner. They restocked prizes and recycled tickets. No one would suspect a Puppet making the day of a small child, by giving a gift.
After the day wound down, and night drew closer, Marionette decided to sleep. They didn't want to just sleep through the night again, they actually wanted to spend time with Mike, make sure he was safe. Just in case.
When their eyes opened to the darkness after waking up, they cracked open their box, to see the Pizzeria abandoned of people. Unsure of the time, they decided to head to Mike's office, either he was already there, or they'd be able to surprise him. A few light chimes sounded from them as the thought of sitting in Mike's chair flit through their mind, what the guard would think once he got there. If it were that early, at least
They crept from their present box and began to stalk their way to the guard office, the thought of meeting Mike again almost felt like it was urging their internal music box to play, but they held it still, until they turned the corner and walked into a wall of brown, which forced out a surprised handful of notes.
Stumbling back, they looked up and felt their wires tighten, and a lance of anxiety shot through them. Freddy Fazbear, the original, stood before them. He turned his head down to look at them, his expression unreadable as he leaned to close the distance between them and spoke, "Marion. We need to talk."