The Broken Circus

Chapter 12: Springlocked-in

The first thing that came to him was how heavily his head was pounding. Carlton cracked an eye open only to shut it when the world was spinning just past his eyelids. He felt downright awful and confused, so much so that he couldn't remember anything that happened. He wasn't lucid enough to think straight and couldn't remember anything of how he got here. He didn't even realize at first that he wasn't at home.

Either the world straightened out and his headache eased in only a few seconds or, the more likely possibility, he passed out and woke up a second time. That second time he immediately realized something was terribly wrong, because he was not laying in bed. He wasn't lying anywhere but propped up against something metal. Like he was laying on uncovered bedsprings that only felt warm because they had been pressed on his skin.

Until he realized that he was not resting against this structure. It was instead wrapped around him, all around him, and he forced his eyes open and looked past the blur to see what it was.

It was a suit. He recognized it right away from the dull light coming through the blurry eyeholes. He was trapped in some kind of hollowed out animatronic and could feel its inner frame pressing in against his ribs and down his arms. He was frozen with fear, heart pounding in his ears as he tried to look around at his surrounding, gulping in oxygen in shaky, frantic breaths.

That was when the memories of what happened came back to him. He could remember Izzy- no, Baby being on top of him. Covering his mouth with hers, crushing on his lungs, slowly suffocating him until he must've passed out. He knew he was lucky to be alive, but it was hard to feel fortunate when he was trapped inside a bed of coils. It gave him the mental image of an iron maiden and he began to hyperventilate.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there before he heard what sounded like a door opening. He couldn't see beyond the tiled floor and dull wall across from him, looking dusty and dirty, so he held his breath to try and listen. The moment he heard the clicking of heels he knew who it was and considered trying to fake still being unconscious, but he didn't have a chance to decide before he heard her voice.

"Are you awake?"

He knew it was Baby even though her voice had completely changed. It was soft now with an edge of a threatening tone and the faintest hum in the back of it like it was a recording. He didn't say anything, but she somehow knew that he was.

"And you haven't moved. Good. You would do best to stay absolutely still," she quietly warned. He tensed up and tried his hardest not to move a muscle, figuring out quickly that this couldn't just be a normal suit. Through the eyeholes he could see her walk up and stand beside him. Her tights were dirtied and torn. "You can scream if you want, but nobody will hear you. Nobody will find you."

Her voice took almost a mocking tone as she said that. Carlton swallowed thickly and asked, "WhatthehellisthiswhereamI?" His words all ran together, and his pitch sharpened with panic. He could feel the metal at his throat.

"Is it not obvious? I kidnapped you," Baby answered. Her voice both patronizing and breathy at the same time. Disgusted and excited by the question. "And I brought you here… And I put you in this."

"Th-This?" Carlton asked. His eyes darted around at what he could see of the suit. "What- What is this?!"

"It was from my old pizzeria. You should remember it. You were the one who mentioned it," Baby said, spitting out the last line. "It was never used, like most of the things from then. Thrown away, abandoned, left to rust and decay until… I needed it. Try not to move. It has always been… unstable." He watched as she turned and walked away, thinking she was leaving, but instead she was just walking the room.

"How did you-?" The last part dropped off his tongue. His mouth was drying out and his jaw was clenched painfully. When he found his words, they came out differently, "Why'd you put me in this thing?"

"Don't be stupid. It really is your own fault. You knew what you were doing, and you kept… pushing… and pushing…" Baby said. He could hear her neck snap as her head turned sharply to face him. "So, I pushed back."

She was going to kill him, he decided. This was all just a drawn-out prefix. Whatever she was doing it was going to end with her trying to kill him. She didn't spare him; she was just toying with him.

Baby was disappointed when he didn't say anything and clicked her way back over to stand between the suit's open legs. Again, all he could see was her legs, and she wasn't stooping to his level.

"You're such a simple person. You are all so sheltered. So much that you saw what was down there and went back to your lives like it was nothing. Like I was nothing. Did you ever think about me, rusting underground? Suffering… What about the children that were sent down there? I bet you forgot them the moment you walked out, like me… But I never forgot about you," Baby bitterly spat. "You or her. You are very much alike, really. You both make bad decisions."

"Charlie?" Carlton asked, voice unintentionally cracking. "She's here?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Baby taunted. "But I think you should worry about yourself. Did you forget what I said? Every time you speak, every time you breathe-."

There was a thunk from somewhere nearby. Baby suddenly straightened and looked in the direction she had come in. He couldn't see her face, but from the motions he could tell there was some hesitation. Then there were footsteps so heavy they could be heard through the wall. Something was coming.

"Stay quiet," she warned. Then she stepped over his leg and quickly hurried to what he assumed was the door, opening it and closing it behind her.

Carlton craned to listen as he began to hear muffled voices talking. It didn't take long before they grew more tense, still keeping low enough that he couldn't make out what they were saying. Save when Baby gave a sudden, "No!" The other voice hissed something bitter in return and its footsteps grew closer to the door. It seemed to him that Baby was trying to stop whoever it was from coming into the room.

She must've failed as the door opened and the heavy, squishy footsteps thumped into the room before coming to a very abrupt halt.

There was a long moment of silence before that second, unknown voice stuck. Hollow and sharp, just like this suit, just enough to send a tremble through Carlton.

"What did you do?"

"He's awake," Baby answered in a hushed tone. She sounded so timid in comparison to when she spoke to him. He wondered if the hissing he heard in the hall was her being reprimanded.

It was at this moment that Carlton suddenly realized that it was probably Afton who just walked in, and he was awash with a sick feeling. This was about to get much worse.

He flinched when the door closed suddenly. The man must've closed it behind him, and from the sound had shut it right in Baby's face. Carlton definitely didn't like his chances now. He could hear the footsteps getting closer and began to smell a plasticky, burnt odor in the air. He prepared himself for a glimpse of the monster, but he purposefully walked out of his line of sight. His voice was just as harsh when it suddenly spoke down at him.

"Did Baby tell you what this is?"

"…She… She said it was something from the old Circus Baby's-?"

"You are inside a springlock suit. These are animatronics that doubled into suits to be worn. Right now, an entire endoskeleton is surrounding you and the only thing keeping it from snapping back into place are old, rusty, flimsy little locks that loosen up from even the slightest jostle. If those locks release- if even one of them gives out- a chain reaction will activate and every piece of metal in that suit will sheer through your skin and lodge themselves deep in your organs."

Carlton was definitely feeling sick now. There came that cold sweat again and narrowing vision as he hyper focused on everywhere the suit touched his skin.

"If you want to survive, you will need to listen to me. I can free you from this suit, and I will… if you do something for me in return."

He didn't like the sound of that, but he was desperate. "W-What do you want?"

"I need you to deliver a message for me… But first, let's see I can get you out alive. That way I don't have to repeat myself."

Carlton could hear clattering from beside him. Like someone was moving tools around or just going into a toolbox, or it could've just been whatever he was moving around beside him.

"Close your eyes. If you open them for even a second, I will leave you in there," he warned. Carlton was quick to obey and snapped his eyes closed, if only so obedient because of this suit surrounding him.

The suit moved slightly as it was touched and maneuvered to the side, slowly turning him to look at the corner. He tried to remain as unmoving as possible even as he heard the locks clicking at the movement. He held his breath as he heard something squeak down near his left side, thankfully to stop shortly afterwards.

Then there was a thunk, a sliding noise, and something metal suddenly poked against his spine. He shuddered despite himself and inhaled sharply.

"There's something poking me," Carlton said through gritted teeth.

"It's a crank. Don't move."

There was a clattering tapping sound as the crank was turned and the suit began to shutter.

"If you so much as breath on a springlock while I'm doing this, you will be skewered straight through the spine. Be. Still."

Carlton gagged on nothing and stayed rigidly still. He could feel the crank pulling at his shirt as it twisted up in it. What if that set the suit off? What if it got the crank stuck and when he tried to pull it out it hit something wrong and caused the whole thing to collapse? He really wanted to believe that this was all some sort of sick joke, but from how the metal twitched and slowly coiled around him he knew it was all too real.

There was a loud snap and the whole suit shuddered around him. He could hear all the metal tightening and locking into place, sounding like it was two seconds away from sliding loose and collapsing in on him. His breath was short and forced, his eyes wide and dead ahead, and his heart pounding painfully as he waited for whatever was coming.

"Remember what I said. Keep your eyes closed."

"Yeah," Carlton croaked. He obeyed, not wanting to risk getting him angry.

He could hear the heavy sounds of the man shuffling around him in a crouched position. The pungent smell of burning grew stronger as his hand brushed the mouth of the suit head. Carlton could only go on his hearing to get a layout of what was happening. It sounded its gloved fingers were feeling around and then there was a clicking noise as they manually adjusted a lock on the jaw.

Every tick was excruciating.

But eventually there was a loud click that caused Carlton to bite his tongue. Thankfully, the only pain that followed was from his own teeth and not the teeth of metal circling him. He continued keeping his eyes closed because he had a hunch the man in front of him could probably see his face. Though 'man' wasn't exactly the correct term for whatever this was supposed to be.

"Ugh, it itches," he thought. The first time he had gotten far enough out of panic mode to think. "What's in this thing? Probably asbestos. I'm going to get out of here and die from some kind of lung disease." The lock on the other side of the jaw began to tighten. "Screw it, I don't care. I'll do it. I'll take the lung disease if I get out of here."

Those thoughts died with another clicking as the lock slid into place. There was then the sound of those fingers moving around the neck of the suit, working fabric up and readjusting it, until wrapping around to the back where they both began to prod around the base of Carlton's neck. He could smell that odor stronger than ever and knew from the sound of movement, and the nudge of a leg against his open ones, that his captor was crouched in front of him.

They had to be face to face from the dull hum that came from directly past the suit. It sounded more like an old computer trying to boot up than a person.

"I bet his breath reeks," Carlton fleetingly thought. Though he hadn't missed that it, in fact, wasn't breathing. A popping noise at the base of his neck snapped him to attention. "That didn't sound right. What… What is he doing?!"

There was a tug at the head of the costume, and it caused the whole suit to shift a little. This got Carlton's attention immediately as he could hear the metal ticking and squeaking around him.

"I thought you said- Stop!" Carlton cried. The head was pulled tighter and the suit started to shift forward. "Oh God, oh God, stop, STOP!"

There was one last yank and the head suddenly pulled of the suit with a sticky noise, like Velcro but not as crunchy. The metal around the neck squeaked and Carlton's eyes opened reflexively.

"EYES CLOSED!"

He shut them instantly and went still, waiting for what was coming. Except the suit he was so sure was going to collapse didn't and instead the room was left in a painful silence. The only noise being the sound of his shaky breathing.

That was until that graveled voice asked, "What did you see?" It was louder without the suit head. He could hear the squeak of its jaw and smell nothing but that moldy fabric burning at his nostrils.

"Not much, I swear. I just you for a split second, I couldn't even tell you- my eyes are still blurry, I didn't see nothing," Carlton panickily said.

But it was a lie. He had seen plenty from that second of a look.

The creature in front of him was one of the most horrifyingly grotesque things he had seen, and he only really got a look from the neck up. Looking up to see a twisted-up face, burned and melted plush fabric distorted and molded over. One eye hole broken by a tear down its cheek that exposed the wire frame underneath, the other shrunken down, the top of the head tilted like something inside had broken or melted, probably the frame itself. Inside the eye holes was empty black.

Its mouth was gaped open as well with its lower jaw hanging open like it was close to falling off. He caught a glimpse of metal teeth somewhere underneath, while it only had a couple of its suit teeth remaining. They were crooked and discolored by suit, and one was bent inward into its maw. He had seen that it was wearing stained leather gloves and hadn't made out anything of its chest because he was too focused on its face.

It had to know he was lying. He just forced himself to faintly breath as he sat under its gaze, his head free but the rest of his body still trapped inside the belly of the machine. He wasn't anywhere near being free and totally at the rabbit's mercy.

A long moment passed before the silence was broken again.

"I will give you one more chance."

Carlton couldn't hold in the air that rushed from his lungs. One more chance, anything to get out of this suit.

"But."

He was grabbed by the chin by a rough leather glove. He almost yanked away but realized at the last second that he couldn't while confined in this metal deathtrap. He was entirely at the mercy of the one angling his head up.

"This is your last chance. Disobey me again and I will put you back where I found you." The fingers tightened into his cheek until it felt like they would bruise. They were unrelenting, only padded by a thin layer of worn leather. "And know that the only reason I have let you remain this long is because of what you may do for me. You are replaceable."

The fingers released Carlton, but he still kept his jaw tight. Embarrassingly to him it was more out of fear than anger. He would've much preferred having to hold himself back instead of cowering under this thing, and now he knew for certain that it was a thing and not a person. It wasn't even really an animatronic, looking more torn and nastier than even the Butchers had. A foul thing in the vague form of a rabbit. A bunny.

Billy the Bunny.

It was Afton.

He already expected as much, but the realization that he was right made him sick to his stomach. He silently sat there with his head down as leather gloves prodded around his neck. The rabbit slid around on the floor and grabbed the crank again. Carlton flinched as it began to turn again, and he could hear the metal crack and whine. It was louder than ever before, but he could feel some of those edges and points start to pull away.

Miraculously, the rusty suit was being opened. From how it sounded it was a shock Baby had gotten it open in the first place to put him in it. It had been a closer call than he had thought; he realized now if he would've moved at all in his groggy state, he could've set it off and died without even knowing he had survived. He fought the urge to open his eyes and see the progress once he felt chilled air on his shoulders.

Afton stood up, his joints squeaking and fabric sliding together with a crusty brushing sound and planted his hands tightly on Carlton's shoulders. He tensed once more as the hands slid down and under his arms, fingers digging into his ribs.

"Don't. Breathe."

Carlton felt himself getting lifted out of the suit. It was a slow process, but the smoothness of the motion didn't fool him- Afton was having no difficulty with his weight. He could feel his legs sliding out of the frames of the suit's own. It only made him more aware of how those frames wobbled from the touches, how they could collapse at any time, severing his legs and stabbing deep into his guts as he spurted blood like a fountain-

And then in on swinging motion he was suddenly set down alongside the suit. For a second it seemed anticlimactic, and too good to be true.

Then he was suddenly shoved forward and had his wrists caught behind him in a bruising tight hold.

"Hand it to me."

Afton was clearly not talking to him, but Baby, who had entered the room at some point. He heard her heels clicking around behind him but still couldn't convince himself to open his eyes. The threat should've been over, he could've fought.

No, he knew better than to fight. Baby herself was impossibly strong and Afton, as dilapidated as he looked, had just lifted him with no effort. If he made a break for it, they would be on him in seconds, and then he would be replicable. If he was needed for something, then that was his only out in the situation. Play along until he could make a safe escape.

Though that was easier said than done when he felt the telltale clench of a zip tie tightening around his wrists. Then, all of a sudden, his shirt was yanked up.

"Whoa! Hold up-!" Carlton was cut off by his shirt getting pulled tightly over his head. It was left like that to blind him, just thick and dark enough that while he could see some light through it, he couldn't really make out anything.

"Baby, you may go," Afton said calmly. "I will get the clown once I'm finished." She must've hesitated because after a moment he gave a firm, "Out."

From Baby's slow footsteps that then suddenly sped up, she seemed to show some reluctance before she left. The door clattered shut behind her and he could faintly hear her clicking footsteps down the hall.

Suddenly Carlton was violently pulled back as that melted faux fur mouth hung over his shoulder. The pungent smell was overpowering, and his right arm was bent just the right way that a few more inches and a harsher pull might've popped it out of socket. The sound of squeaking metal and crackling reached his ear before the voice did.

"Are you listening?" he asked in a low growl. Carlton half-fumbled out a mutter of an answer. "When you leave this place, I want you to go to the police chief of Hurricane… and tell him that he better keep an eye on his son…"

Carlton choked as a hand clamped harshly over his neck with its fingers digging into his throat. Afton pressed his mouth firmly against the side of his head.

"Or I may come back for him next time."

In that moment, Carlton was sure he was going to die. That the confession that his supposed task was useless, just a condemnation in disguise, was about to punctuate his actual death. That this whole ordeal was drawing out a lingering death just like Baby had. He was sure of it, especially when that hand closed tighter, pressing him tighter against that mouth, nearing the point of cutting off his oxygen. He gagged and wheezed as they tightened in further.

Then suddenly he was released. He flung himself forward and bowed over, coughing, and swallowing to catch his breath. He could imagine Afton watching him before he heard the footsteps of him walking out. He shut the door on his way out.

Being the son of someone in law enforcement, there were some things Carlton just picked up over the years. One of these things was how to break out of zip ties, but that required him to have his hands in front of him to do. Trying to do it backwards just wasn't giving him enough strength. So, he tried the next plan, which was to pull up his shirt as best as he could to try and get a glimpse of his surroundings.

No good either. He rolled his shoulders and almost worked the shirt slightly upwards, but it wasn't enough to uncover his head. Probably for the best. If they came back to find his head uncovered, there would probably be some price to pay. The third plan, and it wasn't much of a plan, was to carefully stumble around the room and try to get as much information on it as he could.

It was easier said than done since he had to go off of sound cues from earlier to get his orientation. Walking around with his head covered and arms tethered was a recipe for disaster, which resulted in him accidentally kicking the suit he just got out of. Which then made a very questionable rattling clank of its own.

Thankfully or not, it didn't last. Carlton eventually heard footsteps returning and cautiously made it back to the center of the room, using the sound to orient himself and turn in the direction he was left in. The door opened and whoever it was stepped in. At first he thought it was Afton returning as he couldn't hear Baby's clicking heels, but it didn't take him long to recognize the difference between Afton's bizarrely squishy footsteps and what sounded like shoes.

A hand slowly grabbed onto his arm, and he tensed up. Another vice-like grip, but this one moving much slower, and with its hand significantly more padded. There was a staticky hum in the air coming from behind him, so he knew right away that this had to be another animatronic. Likely the other clown. It took both his arms in its hands before suddenly turning, causing him to stumble, and leading him out the door.

The plan was to try and remember his way back from this room. That plan went immediately out the window once he was walking. He was being yanked quickly around turns and pushed through doorways that thumped closed behind them; it almost felt like they were going in circles until they eventually went through an unfamiliar normal door. From the sound, smell, and darkness, along with the step that he kicked in front of him, he realized it was a stairwell.

He was in the process of trying to step up when his escort wrapped its arms around his middle and lifted him up. It was immediately uncomfortable, making him feel sicker than he already was while also tipping him off to the height of whatever was carrying him. His feet occasionally brushing the steps as he tried to get his bearings but failing beyond realizing he was being carried like a sack of potatoes.

It was almost a relief to finally get set down again and dragged out into a cold room smelling of dust. His footsteps were echoing, so it had to be a large room, and it felt like tile under his feet. He dragged one of them and realized there was an amount of sediment gathered up on the tiles. That was strange; he had to remember that- if he survived, of course.

There was a creeping dread warning him that he was about to be taken out and have his body dumped somewhere in the woods. He was already making plans to make a run for it, but his options were slim, even when a door was opened, and he was hit with cool night air. He stepped out onto the asphalt of a parking lot and in the distance, he could see the light of a streetlight through his shirt. He stepped on a patch of craggy grass growing through a crack.

What was most concerning was that he couldn't hear any cars. If a car went by then he could try to yell for help and make a scene, and there was a streetlight so they couldn't have been that far out of town, but it was dead silent out. He had no idea what time it could be except that it was probably dead at night. No witnesses, so that plan seemed like a bust.

Carlton was stopped abruptly and had one of his arms released before he heard the sound of a van door opening. He was hit by the stale smell from inside before suddenly deciding he didn't want to get in. He didn't trust Afton to keep his word and he sure wasn't going to hand himself over without a fight. All it took was one pull forward and he was out of his unsuspecting captor's hand and sprinting towards that light.

All things considered; he was impressed that he didn't immediately fall flat on his face. He kept his arms tight against him to keep his balance and tried to predict the ground through what he felt under his feet. It was actually working at first. Carlton was running with a speed he didn't know he could manage under these circumstances.

Unfortunately, so was the animatronic he was trying to leave behind, as he heard the heavy footsteps as it quickly caught up.

"HELP! HELP! SOMEONE! CALL- Gah!" His cries were cut off when he was hit by something that he could've believed was a car but knew was probably 'the clown'. It grabbed at his arms, but he was already propelling forward and landed heavily on his side. If not for his shirt, he would've expected to get road rash on his face, but he was still jostled enough to feel dizzy and disoriented.

The animatronic above him was making a slurry of static and crackles that gave the distinct impression that it was furious. If not that, then the harsh grip when it grabbed him by the arm to pull him up.

"THERE'S A CLOWN TRYING-!" Carlton's next cry was smothered by a gloved hand clamping over his mouth. He tried to yell through it, bite against it, so no avail. The sheer amount of fabric between his teeth cut all of that off.

The animatronic then proceeded to partially drag him back to the van before tossing him inside. Once again, Carlton found himself landing partially on his face and awkwardly on a painfully bent arm. He rolled onto his back to take some of the pressure off of it before suddenly finding his nerve from the adrenaline.

"Y-You know for a clown you're not a lot of fun," he spat. The clown responded by slamming the van door. Thankfully, because in hindsight it could've just dragged him out and ran him over.

It climbed in the driver's side, turned on the van, and began to drive. At this point Carlton knew he didn't really have room to barter or plead- he might've thrown that chance away with the ill-planned escape attempt. Better than dying in the back of a van, but he was still in the van, so it didn't really matter. His heart was pounding, and he was trying to figure out the directions the van was moving through his panicked haze.

"Stay calm. Don't freak out. Why would he bring you out this far if he was going to kill you?" Carlton asked himself. "…So that Dad could find my body," he promptly answered. "…Well, damn."

The ride continued a little longer before the van suddenly pulled to a rough stop off the side of the road. He heard moving in the front seat but wasn't until the animatronic was suddenly beside him and grabbing him in a bruising grip that he realized it climbed into the back with him. He was dragged by his arm towards the door which was wrenched open.

"Is it really going to let me go?" Carlton thought frantically. His arm aching as he was pulled forward in front of the animatronic. Something cold was pressed between his bound hands. He recognized it as a knife and his breath hitched.

It took a sharp tug to snap the knife through the zip tie. Carlton's breath hitched as the blade nicked his wrist.

But before he could even process the sting, he was suddenly pushed on the back and fell forward and out of the van. Arms freed, he almost managed to catch himself with them, but still landed face first in what felt like a ditch.

He could hear the animatronic quickly scrambling back into the front seat and quickly dragged himself out of the way before the van suddenly peeled out beside him. He got the shirt off of his head just in time to see the tail end of the van before it was gone. He stayed on his hands and knees staring dumbly for a few seconds. He was in shock, barely able to process that he had just been dumped on the side of the road.

Carlton looked around slowly to see that he was on the side of a dirt road. He couldn't even tell if he was on the edge or tone or if he was just on a back road somewhere, just that he was sitting in the dark with the closest home being down by where the van's lights had disappeared. Maybe he was on the edge of the park, but it was hard to recognize it.

Finally finding his voice, he could only mutter in a hoarse voice through a dried-out throat, "Thanks for the lift, Bozo…"

He slowly got to his feet. His arms were aching, and he could still feel both of his last falls, but he was awake and alert. Whatever he had been drugged with had worn off and he thought he was alright to walk. Though he would've even if he wasn't, wanting nothing more than to get home. A quick check of his pockets showed that his cellphone was gone, so he was stranded unless he got somewhere. He started to walk along the side of the road.

It wasn't until he was about one road over from there that the reality of what happened caught up to him. His hands were shaking, and his body felt clammy, probably from the amount he sweated during the whole ordeal. His mindset was somewhere between "How am I alive?" and "What if it comes back?" Baby broke in, Baby knew where he lived, he wasn't going to be safe unless he got the same lockdown Charlie and Sammy did.

At least he knew where he was. His earlier suspicion was correct, he had been dumped by the park. It was going to be a bit of a walk back to his house, but the idea of walking up and knocking on doors made him nervous. It was the same reason why he kept walking in the shadows and behind bushes when he could. He didn't feel safe; he had to hide, he had to get home.

By time he did make it home, the adrenaline had fully worn off and he was feeling everything that happened in his muscles and on his skin. It was probably going to start showing up on his skin sooner than later too. Though at this point he didn't care how rough he looked, even when he noticed how many cars were in the driveway. He recognized both John and Mike's cars amongst them.

The lights were on, so someone must've fixed whatever Baby had done to the fuse box. Chances were she had just shut the power off. He could hear voices from inside as he approached the front door, but he didn't announce his presence beyond opening the unlocked door and letting himself inside. Though this was enough to tip off the people waiting inside.

Carlton's friends were in a panic. Shortly after Clay had sounded the alarm on Carlton's kidnapping- and he immediately treated it as one even with the lack of evidence- they had been alerted one by one. Including Mike and Sammy, who had been over at his and Charlie's house at the time. They had drove around searching for hours, asked the neighbors, asked anyone they could find, but there had been no trace left behind. Nobody had even spotted the van.

Eventually Clay went off with his men to search and his friends were instructed to wait at the house in case there was a call or if Carlton came back.

Nobody actually thought Carlton was going to come back.

Marla was becoming borderline inconsolable. Initially she had helped spearhead the search, worried and frightened but putting aside her feelings enough to stay focused, but now that she was stuck waiting, she was starting to give into those feelings. Jessica was trying to assure her as much as she could, stopping her constant pacing by putting an arm around her and holding her securely.

Everyone was tired, but sleep was the last thing on their mind. Nobody was going to rest easy until they heard news on Carlton.

And then he walked right through the front door.

They thought it was Clay. Jessica looked back expecting to see him and expecting to hear that they found nothing and audibly gasped when she saw him. The others had similar reactions; it was like watching a ghost walk in.

Carlton assumed that he looked a little rough, but he didn't realize that he was wearing the events of the night all over. On his dusty and scuffed pants, on the scrapes up his arm, and in the wide-eyed thousand-yard stare on his face.

They didn't need any clarification to know that he had been through hell.

"Carlton!" Marla cried. She pulled away from Jessica's arm only to throw both of her own around him, catching him in a tight squeeze that caused him to reflexively flinch. "We thought you were… We've been looking all over the place! What happened?! Where were you?!"

He registered the question, but his responses were delayed. He blamed it on whatever he had been drugged with creeping back up and slowly wrapped his arms back around her. She made a noise akin to a whimper, something he had never heard her do before. Maybe he could tease her about it later, but right now he just held her tightly to him.

The others got up quickly, including Mike who looked on in disbelief before turning and calling back towards the kitchen.

"Carlton jut walked in!" he yelled. He then turned back to the others and suggested, "Someone should call Clay." After a few seconds and nobody volunteering, or really acknowledging the comment, he got his phone out to do it himself.

Sammy had been sitting on the floor behind the kitchen island. He told Mike that it was because he felt too out in the open sitting in the living room, who recounted it to the others. This was a lie. He was actually hiding out in there so he could stress cry without anyone knowing. Silently shuddering and catching his messy tears with two handfuls of paper towels.

He might've not been especially close to Carlton, but he did like him, and to hear that he had been snatched away was devastating. Especially since he knew he was in much more danger. Charlie being alive hinged on Baby's fixation with her and Afton's plans requiring her, but Carlton had neither of these advantages. The only thing he had was that his father was the police chief, but someone as vindictive as Afton could just decide to kill him for sport.

So when Mike suddenly called in that Carlton was there, Sammy snapped out of his quiet pity party and all but crawled off the kitchen floor and upright into the doorway. There he was, roughed up but alive, and that changed everything.

Carlton was a little startled when Sammy came up on him so quickly, though at that point his nerves were so frayed that anything might've made him jump. The Puppet noticed and stopped at arm's length before beginning to look him over. At this moment Lamar put a hand on Carlton's shoulder and he snapped his head back towards him.

"You alright?" he offered. He knew the answer was no, but still offered. The redhead gave a stiff sort of shrug.

"I'm- I'm not dead, so yeah. Sort of," he answered. His voice was just as crunchy now as it was earlier.

"Are you sure? You look rough, man. We can take you to go get checked out," Lamar suggested. Carlton considered it before shaking his head.

"…Nah, I'm good. Just a little, uh…" Carlton made a waving gesture when fabric fingers caught around his wrist and gently pulled his hand in. He looked out of the corner of his eye to see Sammy looking at his wrist.

"You're bleeding…" the puppet said quietly. He turned it over and tried to wipe away some of the dried smear. It didn't take him long to find the small nick that was the source, which eased his worries. Though only momentarily as he then noticed the redness around his wrist. It looked just on the urge of bruising. His head snapped up as he asked, "Were you tied?"

"Yeah, uh. Zip tied," Carlton said, coughing awkwardly.

Marla made a breathy sound and her face scrunched up like she was either about to explode in anger or tears. She was just on that border between fury and distraught, but she clearly wasn't the only one.

"Carlton, was it her? Baby?" Jessica asked. He gave a shaken agreement and she steepled her hands against her lips. "No big surprise there… What happened?"

Carlton hesitated for a second to try and think of how to begin the long recount of what he had just gone through. Being attacked by Baby, being taken to that place, being placed in that suit- it all felt miles away now, like a bad fever dream.

"I was here and then Dad left, and I heard a noise downstairs, and it was Izzy climbing through the window. She chased me around the house, I got into the car, and she came out and, uh…" He considered how to word this. "…She smothered me. I passed out and woke up in some basement. Stuck inside this…" Marla gasped, and Carlton tried to line up the events. He could remember Baby chastising him as he was stuck in that metal deathtrap. "…Animatronic?"

"You were in a basement?" John asked. The wheels started turning immediately as he heard this. "What else? Can you remember anything about it?"

Carlton knew he was worried about Charlie and just remembering her made him remember something else, his brief exchange with Baby about her. He remembered his suspicion at the time, and he still believed it even now.

"Charlie's alive."

A combination of shock and relief spread through the group. Though nobody reacted with both as jarringly as Sammy, who felt like the world again ground to a halt around him. He said she was alive. He had reason to believe she was alive.

"Oh, thank goodness. Thank goodness," Marla exhaled into her hands. She uncovered her face to ask, "You saw her down there?"

"No, but Baby said, uh… I don't know. Baby said something and it just clicked that she's alive and she's down there. I can't really… just… It'll come back to me. I-I'll remember," Carlton scrambled. It was becoming apparently clear that he was overwhelmed. He was starting to deteriorate just standing there, but it didn't take too much credence from his words. At least, they would cling to any credibility they could.

"Then we can still go find her," Jessica said. She turned towards Mike who had come up to stand beside her after getting off the phone with Clay. They exchanged a look showing they were on the same page.

"Any chance you remember where this basement is?" he asked.

Before Carlton could explain further, he was cut off by the sound of someone peeling down the street out front followed by a thumping sound that was either the car driving up on the curb or a small collision.

"Here's hoping that wasn't my car getting clipped," Mike flatly added. "Who said cops obey traffic laws?"

Carlton was barely paying attention though, instead turning to watch the front door as he heard the footsteps approaching from outside. It only dawned on him right before the door opened that it could've been the van, that it could be something much worse preparing to bust through and no amount of rationalization could make him feel safe in that moment, even when he was surrounded by friends.

Until the door was thrown open to reveal his father coming in. They exchanged a silent look before Clay gave an exhale, strode forward, and pulled his son into a protective hug. Carlton wasn't even in the right mind to reflect on the tender gesture, just raised his shaking hands to the back of his father's coat and held on tight. All at once it all crashed down on him.

Marla read the room and turned around to usher the others back. "Let's give them a moment," she whispered. Some seemed a little more reluctant to do so, but she managed to get them to go. Even Sammy who she willingly led by the arm.

So Clay would had a moment to reunite with his son, and so nobody else would hear the shaky breath that signaled when Carlton broke down in tears.