Cat's In The Cradle

Roanoke Outskirts, Virginia

Tuesday 29th November 2016, 13:14 PM

Though their visit with Benji was short, Sam had been grateful for the time spent with him. As they had eaten, she had explained what they had done after he'd escorted them through the Zion National Park. When the discussion had finally fallen onto Mike and his journey back to the States, Benji had been bemused by his close friend's decision.

"I told him, you know." Benji spoke with a layer of guilt, "Last time we spoke, after we left the forest. I told him not to be so eager to jump feet-first into Hell again. I told him…"

"Clearly he didn't get the message." Tyler had mumbled grumpily, but Benji shook his head at that.

"That's the thing; I think he did. When I told him not to, I said that he wasn't the only one jumping. I think…that's why he went alone this time. Didn't want to drag people into his business."

"Except that's not how reality works." Leaning back in his chair, Tyler shook his head. "He's got people who care about him. How the Hell did he not think that someone would come anyway?"

Benji almost chuckled. "I've been asking that myself for twenty years."

When dawn had finally arrived, Tyler shook Samantha awake to get ready for their journey West. Since there would be no chance of them getting across America by plane when Tyler was carrying a small arsenal with them, their only choice was to drive.

As they loaded up the car again, this time with various provisions supplied by Benji by his insistence, he took Samantha aside for the last time. "How bad do you think this is?"

"It's not great." She admitted, "We'll do everything we can."

"I know you will." Benji bit his lip, "Bring him home safe."

With that, they had set on their journey out of Virginia into the next state. Into Kentucky and through Missouri, making stops only when they needed to eat, sleep, or relieve themselves. Woodland covered most of the journey, often open roads and no need for delays. Much different than driving back home, Samantha thought as they drove.

Before she knew it, the woodland started to become replaced with rocky terrain, confirming their entry past Missouri and into Kansas. For almost all the days they would be in that car, relieved by the air conditioning at the very least.

Thankfully, the radio still worked, with Tyler constantly flicking from different stations. Over the hours, Sam's thoughts were almost entirely focused around work and the case in front of them. Yet, her thoughts started to dwell on memories, on the last time she had been on such a road trip through the states of America.

As she realized it had been two decades since, it almost shocked her.

"After our wedding." She found herself speaking out loud by accident, making Tyler look at her in confusion.

"Eh?"

"Sorry, I was thinking about what Tom and I did after our wedding."

Tyler gave a smirk, "I almost don't want to ask."

"Oh no, I'm not thinking about that." She almost laughed, "No, after our wedding, we went on a bit of a road trip around America, then Europe. I was just remembering it."

Not taking his eyes off the road, Tyler nevertheless seemed interested, "I've been around a few times. Doesn't surprise me that my little bro wanted to. That was back when you two were working for the Crucible, right?"

"Yep." Sam relaxed in her seat, "John…John Lamarck, I mean. He was able to get us as much time off as he could; the two of them were always close. He was able to give us over a month of Holiday time and we wanted to spend it well."

"Where did you go?"

"We started in Washington. Near enough to the Rockies, so it gave us what we needed to start. We went through Montana, California, Nevada…ended up in Texas. That was why I remembered." She offered.

"You tried Arizona and New Mexico?" Tyler inquired with a grin, "The Mexican food down there is great. Proper Burritos and Tacos, not like what we get back home."

"We did, actually." Sam laughed, "I think he liked it, but you know Tom. He was never a fast food person. Always liked his homemade meals, roasts…"

"Shepherd's Pie."

"Oh, yes."

"So, where'd you go after that?"

"We still had a couple weeks left, so we went back home." Sam could almost recall the feeling she had when she'd stepped back on home soil after two years. "Then into Europe. Our trip finally ended in Greece. It was…it was a good few weeks."

Hearing the pain in her voice, Tyler gave a sideways glance into the mirror, "You good?"

"Yep." Sam said sullenly, "It's…we were in Athens, you see. The thought had crossed our minds before, but we finally had a proper talk about it the night before we were to go back. About leaving the Crucible. Handing in our resignation and walking away from all of it."

"But you didn't." Tyler stated the obvious.

"No." Sam agreed, "We didn't. At the time, we didn't think we had anywhere else to go. Perhaps we were right at the time. We got back, and John had a reconnaissance mission to prepare for; a six man mission, and he had two agents of Shield, one agent of Sword, and one agent from Shadow with him. Tom, of course, agreed to join that mission."

There was an uneasy silence between them for a few moments before she could find the will to continue.

"That was the Crucible's first contact with Fazbear Entertainment." She explained, "What they found during that mission…killed every single agent inside that building except for two. Tom and John. John died of his injuries that day; Tom was in critical condition for one week and I wasn't there to tend to him."

When she finally fell silent, Tyler brought the car to a slow halt, parking on the side of the road. "You okay?"

"No." She admitted, "But I will be. I hope."

At some point, as the radio continued to softly play the recent selection that Tyler had chosen, Sam had found herself dwelling on something. For longer than she could tell, she had been staring out of the window, watching the greenland on either side of the road. When she finally noted that, she figured out what was confusing her.

"Where are we going?" Sam blinked, staring down at the map on the dashboard.

Without taking his eyes off the road, Tyler raised an eyebrow, "Huh?"

"Where are we going? We should be in Colorado by now. Instead, we're on Route 35."

"Aye."

"That means we're going south." Sam stated, not understanding his apparent lack of concern. "Into Oklahoma. Why are we going towards Oklahoma? Ty, have you gotten us lost?"

"What do you take me for?" Tyler snorted, "Nah, we're heading to Utah, don't you worry. There's just something we need to take care of, first?"

"Like what?" Sam asked with a scowl, "If it was so important, why didn't you tell me about it earlier?"

"Hey." Tyler shrugged with a slight smirk, "You've got your people to visit; I've got mine. Just trust me on this one. It's good."

Against her better judgement, Sam decided not to push him on the matter. Though she felt annoyed by how this trip had been hijacked, she reminded herself that he was technically her AESIR-assigned guide.

The following days led them deeper into the mesa and savannah out of Oklahoma and though she wasn't a native, Sam could recognise the terrain of Texas in a heartbeat. Last time she had been there, it had been after their daring escape from Cheyenne. Weeks spent wandering west, towards California where they hoped to circumnavigate around the Nightingales to reach their allies looking for them.

"Looks familiar?" Tyler seemed to guess what she was thinking and she gave a sheepish shrug.

"It wasn't the best few weeks." Sam admitted, reminding herself how she had only prolonged it, "But it was just a blip from half a year of pain and suffering. At least some of the hotels were clean."

"What you guys did there definitely worked." Tyler pointed out, "We had no idea where you'd gone and neither did the Nightingales. If you hadn't vanished like that, we wouldn't have been able to reach you before they would've."

Samantha nodded her agreement, "The whole thing was a mess…"

After giving a nod, Tyler fell silent for a few moments. "You know…we arrived in Hurricane an hour after Fazbear Frights burnt down. You lot had gone by then, which was a good move; it would've taken us walking into the Police Station and breaking you out if they had caught you. Of course, we were never expecting the Nightingales to be sent at the time."

"I don't think even Tom would've expected that."

"Aye. When we realised you had gone off the grid, we split up. The consensus was that bringing attention trying to find you would've been a bad idea…that was a mistake. I went straight to San Francisco. They were being sieged at the time and Spencer was barely keeping it all together. I had to tell him. You know that, right?"

Samantha didn't say anything.

"He had to know that his dad didn't make it." Tyler continued, his voice raw with pain and fury. "That you were out there, possibly in danger. And you know what he did? When we told him this, and when his team told him to leave with us to find you?"

Though Sam had already read the report, something stopped her from admitting so.

"The mission comes first." Tyler answered, a rare hint of pride in his voice. "That's what he said. The boy had just learned his dad was dead, and he refused to leave his city and his friends behind. Me, Alice, and Morcant stayed to help them and only when he was sure the situation was stable, did he leave with us. That kid…"

"...is just like his father." Samantha agreed.

"I swear to you, if Tom had seen him that day, he'd have never been more proud."

Feeling those emotions fill her again, Sam had to fight back the tears as she spoke. "They…had their issues. Spencer idolised Tom. He did even when he was a child; always wanted to be like him. I guess it was because he grew up with the Crucible and all this talk of secret agents and missions to save people…we tried our best to shield him from it all, but we were young. First time parents. It was difficult."

"You did a better job than most."

"I know. You know what your brother was like, though; Tom was angry when he was younger. He learnt how to deal with it better after he met Mike, and you two meeting again helped him with that. The difference is, Spencer didn't have to grow up the way Tom and you did. So he had to try and find that anger somewhere else."

"Like being a defiant teenager."

"For starters." Sam took a breath, "I think the worst thing is that Spencer tried his best to be just like his dad, but Tom never wanted that for him. He wanted Spencer to find his own way. To do better than he did."

"There's still a chance." Tyler assured her, "That kid's smart. Give him time."

As the savannah began to turn red, Sam could feel in her gut that they had entered New Mexico. Without an explanation, Tyler continued to lead them through the mesa and into Arizona. Along the side of the road, a sign announcing their arrival into Phoenix at the very least comforted Sam, knowing she would soon get answers.

"So," She asked with a slight tone in her voice, "you're going to tell me why we're here, right?"

"Need to pick something up."

They pulled up to an extravagant building multiple stories tall. Two words hung over them from the very top of the building: Renaissance Hotel.

When Sam shot him a quizzical look, Tyler laughed. "Don't worry; our meals have been paid for."

Samantha's confusion only remained paramount as they entered the hotel which looked more like a palace. Though Tyler had elected to keep his rifle in the car underneath a blanket, she could still feel the eyes on them inside the hotel, from staff and clients alike.

It shouldn't be a surprise, Sam thought as Tyler checked in with that same cheeky voice he usually had chatting to the female receptionist, we hardly look the typical clientele these people are used to.

After checking in, they were led into a southwestern restaurant with a sign signifying it to be named the Dust Cutter. Giving her a smirk, Tyler gestured with his head at something as he walked over to one of the tables. As she glanced over there in confusion, the sight of a young man wearing a black fedora hat which she could never mistake caused her to freeze.

At that moment, he was reading something on his phone, an ever-so-slight smile on his face. Looking up, he blinked when he saw them, then his smile deepened.

Sam reached him as he got up, embracing him in a hug.

"Mom," Spencer almost laughed, "Easy, the ribs are on the mend!"

Remembering the injury he'd taken only a month before, she backed up, but still couldn't contain her happiness. "What are you doing here, honey? I didn't realise…"

For a moment, Spencer's confusion matched her own as they both looked at Tyler, who was almost grinning. "Yeah, sorry, kid; I didn't tell her. Wanted to see the look on her face."

"Ty," Sam scowled, "would you run this by me next time, please?"

Tyler shrugged, "Next time. Look, it wasn't like we had any official support for this mission, so I was thinking, who do we know in the area? I called Spencer before we left Lausanne and told him that we were running an op, said we could do with another hand, offered him work."

"Okay. That's all well and good," Sam reasoned, "but why didn't you tell me you recruited my son into this?"

"Because I didn't tell him that you were coming, so you know, equal ground."

"But why didn't you tell him?"

"Because I didn't tell you."

"I'm confused." Spencer confessed.

"That's your uncle for you." Sam sighed, before turning back to him, "Sorry if you weren't expecting it. I promise I won't step on your toes."

"That's alright." Spencer laughed, "Though I'm not sure what this is all about."

After they had all sat down, a waitress approached them and asked if they were ready to order. A brief look through the menu led her to the entrees, where the Salmon & her Three Sisters immediately caught her eye. When she saw the prices on some of the options, she cringed.

"Um, who's paying for these, just so I know?" She spoke in a low voice and Spencer immediately assured her with a shrug. Before she could protest, Tyler intervened.

"Kid says he's paying." Tyler grinned at the waitress, "Young ones supporting us oldies, and all that."

Still feeling guilty which only grew as she then turned to the drinks, Sam settled for the house white. Once the waitress had left with their orders written down and they were alone, she turned back to Spencer. "Are you sure about it, babe?"

"It's fine, mom. These new projects mean our budget is better than it was. Now, care to explain what this is all about? All I've been told is that Mike Schmidt is missing."

Nodding, Sam sat back in her seat. "He found a new lead. Left in September. We only learnt about it a week ago."

A switch was flipped in his gaze and for a moment, Sam recalled how his father would have that same look in his eyes. Leaning forward, Spencer's voice lowered. "The Fazbear Conspiracy? I thought you put that to rest last year."

"So did we." Tyler agreed, "That's probably why he went behind our backs. He knew we'd try to stop him."

"What have you two found out so far? Did he go back to Utah?"

"That's our best guest." Sam admitted, "The issue is, Mike knows how to stay off the radar. He isn't using a credit card, and I would imagine he's got himself some new identification. All that we're working with is his motive."

"What about that friend of his? Benji Reed? Did you pay him a visit?"

"We did." Sam confirmed, almost happy that they were on the same wavelength with that, "Mike didn't tell him much more than we already knew, but it at least confirmed it."

"That's why I brought you into this one, kid." Tyler leaned forward, "I'm good, but detective work isn't my cup of tea. Your dad taught you everything he knew. If anyone can track him down and work out what happened, it's you."

There was a hint of pride on Spencer's face at the praise, before he returned to that stoic look once he began to consider it. After a few moments, he nodded, "Thank you for trusting me on this. If you need my help, I'm here."

Though a wave of happiness filled her at the thought of working alongside her son, another wave of guilt filled her as she considered one last part. "What about your team? I don't want to leave them short-handed."

But Spencer waved that off. "They were the ones who told me to go. They know how important this is, don't you worry. Besides, I cannot even begin to tell you how much Gabe has helped out in the last couple of years. He filled in massively when I was with Ty's guys looking for you."

"That's not what I'm worried about." Sam pressed on, "What about the breaches?"

"We've got them sorted. Trust me, Mom; my team's got this."

Knowing that arguing further was redundant, Sam decided not to look that gift horse in the mouth any further. Relaxing, Spencer glanced between them both. "So, what's next?"

"I suppose we head straight for Utah." Sam gave a sideways scowl towards Tyler, "Barring any more unplanned stops."

New Harmony, Utah

Tuesday 27th September 2016, 14:56 PM

Every step forward, it seemed like two steps backwards. Of course, as he reflected quite bitterly, what's changed? Only difference is this time, I don't have someone else by my side to figure it out for me.

His mind hadn't changed ever since he decided that his best move forward was to look for the animatronics themselves. These Funtime Animatronics, whatever they were—whether entertainers or hunters—were the most important thing in the case. Perhaps they would be the thing that would lead him to the answers he so desired.

Otherwise, he had a bad feeling it would lead him to his doom.

That didn't mean he hadn't made any progress, of course; as he sat by his desk with the midday sun shining through the window, he gazed at the many newspaper clippings and photographs he had stuck to a pinboard, mapping them out as best as he could. Most were abstract, but the very few he had managed to dig up in libraries and archives that didn't come from Caine's files all meant something.

Circus Baby's, which lasted even shorter than the Freddy Fazbear's Pizza reboot, was a faint, distant memory that left him stumped.

There were various photographs of the restaurant, including the exterior and the sporadic rooms shaped to resemble a carnival. Though they didn't tell much of a story, the photographs of the animatronics themselves were far from meaningless. Other than the blueprints he'd found in the box, this was the closest he had to an actual image of these robots.

Two of them, Circus Baby and Ballora, were unfamiliar, new designs made strictly for their home. Perhaps they shared some striking resemblance to Balloon Boy and even the Marionette, but he wasn't about to state it connected them in any way.

When he then turned to the photographs of the other two, Mike felt that surge of pain in his chest. Though Freddy and Foxy still remained in their counterparts' shadows, they stuck out like a sore thumb. Funtime Freddy stood tall and beefy, looking too refined to be anything other than a copy.

There was something about Funtime Foxy, though, that befuddled him. Looking at this shiny, flashy version of Foxy, which didn't resemble the Foxy he knew in the slightest, only one thought stuck in his head.

"It looks like Mangle." Mike voiced his thoughts, "Just…not falling to pieces."

That was an interesting thought; for a moment, Mike considered the designs of the Fazcrew, with their shiny colours and rosy cheeks. At the time when he first saw these designs, he attributed them to an attempt to cover up the past. Their glossy plastic, so different to the Fazgang's rough fur, had been something to be shrugged off.

What if it was much more than that?

As Mike dwelled on these thoughts, another thought popped up in his mind. When Fazbear Entertainment deemed them a lost cause, the Fazcrew were dumped in a garbage hole and left to rot.

Similarly, as he began to run these thoughts through their process, Mike also remembered the fate of the Fazgang. They weren't scrapped. They were kept in the dark. Who knows what might've happened to them if he hadn't come along and destroyed them?

As those wheels began to turn in his head, Mike returned to the map of the county; when he and Tom had gone looking for the Fazcrew leading them to St. George, they had found the dump site in the red sands east of there. Where Dutch Lawson had taken aim, shooting from the Devil's Playground.

They weren't scrapped, neither were they dumped with no regard; it had never seemed important, but Mike couldn't help but look into who exactly owned that dump. Was it really a surprise that one of Fazbear Entertainment's affiliates were the foremans?

With all this running through his mind, Mike sat back as he came to one conclusion. "It doesn't matter if the project failed." He muttered, "Fazbear Entertainment would've never outright abandoned, nor scrapped them without a good enough reason."

Which meant that there was a very good chance the Funtime Animatronics were still out there, somewhere.

Instead of looking for the obvious leads that had led him astray, Mike turned to any other scrap hole in the county; whether abandoned or not. When more and more time went by without an answer, he could feel that irritation filling his throat. There were too many options and not enough absolutes.

Once that irritation finally clouded his work, Mike got up in a huff and left the room. How had Tom done it? How had he managed to single out the exact place where the Fazcrew had been hiding? He didn't have a chance to replicate that feat.

Knowing that he wasn't going to get anywhere by pushing onwards in this mood, he turned to a different task; his house. Heading to one of the downstairs windows, Mike tugged at the bottom wooden plank and was satisfied with it. By now, all the windows were boarded up and the carpets were replaced.

For the most part, the house he owned was now actually livable. Having a comfy sofa to sit on at night was a massive change from the cheap hotels he'd been stopping at on his way back home. His work was not over yet.

His eyes moved to the basement door. So far, he hadn't touched that place. The most he'd achieved was fixing the handle after he'd broken it off the previous year. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Mike pulled the door open and went downstairs.

A part of him was brimming with creativity on what he could turn it into. That creativity would be sundered once he remembered what it once was. After everything he had done, how could he think positively about it all?

I got him stuck in here, once. Mike remembered, I broke the door handle.

Once he stepped foot into the basement, Mike examined the walls until he could see the wiring. Strangely, in spite of the weathered damages to the building, the electricity hadn't been too much of an issue. Even so, Mike had taken the odd engineering classes after his first time fleeing Utah, now knowing what to do and what not to do.

Switching off the mains, he went through the wiring until he was satisfied that setting things up wouldn't burn the whole building down. Once he was satisfied, he nervously changed the light bulb.

"Here goes nothing." He mumbled before switching the lightswitch.

Rather than a crackle and pop, the light bulb lit up without an issue. Allowing himself to suck in oxygen after holding his breath, he relaxed and moved to the next phase. He went back upstairs and fetched the necessary cleaning materials, bringing them down the steps.

Once he set down the materials, he got a good look around the now-lit room. It had been left to rot, debris and dust covering just about every single surface. Various scraps were hidden underneath traps in the corners of the room, which he went over to, feeling curiosity overcoming his senses.

He grabbed the corners of one of the tarps and dragged it over, clearing it from the pieces it was hiding. A thick layer of dust spat out of the tarp, making him cough. There were pieces of old furniture there, much like the ones he had stripped to make the wooden boards during his bad night the previous year.

An old wooden dresser, about the height of his waist, stood in front of him. Chipped paint had fallen off in petals as he'd dragged the tarp off. Finding the corners, he pulled the dresser out from its spot so that he could get to the other pieces.

His eyes immediately found the object behind the object, laying on the ground: Almost cuboid, with a blanket thrown over it. Knowing by sight just what it was, Mike stepped over to it and uncovered the object.

It was a Television, an old one at that. Of course, he knew it well. "Well, well…" He spoke under his breath, "Haven't seen you in a long time."

Unlike your modern day Televisions, this one was the size of a cardboard box and weighed a tonne. Kneeling down to get a better look at it, he tested the dials and saw they still worked. Dust and grime covered the screen. Looking behind him, Mike saw the wooden table he'd moved alongside the dresser against the back wall and then contemplated.

Shrugging, he grabbed the corners of the TV and dragged it upwards. He heaved at the weight, waddling like a penguin, until he reached the table and placed it down. Groaning as he felt his arms hurt, Mike grabbed some of the cleaning equipment and set to work rinsing down the TV.

Once the screen was clear, he pondered. It's old. No way it would still work, surely?

He found the cable for it and, with some hesitation, plugged it into the power socket. Taking another breath, he switched it on, and felt a chill run over his body as it didn't blow the fuse. A sudden crackle behind him startled Mike, and he spun around, expecting to see smoke.

Instead, the room was illuminated by a white light. Blinking, he walked back to the front of the TV and saw white static on the screen.

Holy Hell. It still works.

Grinning, he looked back to where he'd found the TV originally. Nearby, there was an old cardboard box, closed but not sealed. Stepping over to it, Mike opened the box and looked inside. There was an old VHS player and underneath, box sets. His eyes widened as he got a better look; they were many of the TV shows and films his family used to watch.

Picking up the box, Mike carried it over to the table with the TV and placed it down. Like with the TV, he cleaned the VHS player and set it up. When it didn't light up after starting it, Mike was almost disappointed, if not surprised.

"Ah, well." He shrugged, "I can find a new VHS player, surely."

Glancing back into the box, Mike laid eyes on one of the box sets. Unable to contain himself, Mike smiled as he pulled it out. On the cover was a drawn mountain range, either a sunrise or a sunset shimmering between the cracks of two mountains. On the right was a cartoon woman, blonde and wearing a green top. She looked irritated as she wagged a finger towards a man on the left who was wearing a purple suit. He had almost blue skin and looked very disinterested.

In the middle was the title: The Immortal and the Restless.

This had been one of his favourite shows, growing up. Unable to contain his smile, Mike returned the box set. Without a doubt, he knew he needed to find a new VHS player. If any of these tapes worked…

Mike turned around and his smile faltered when he saw something on the floor, where the TV and the box sets had been. Hidden beneath all the tarped furniture was a crack in the floor. Scowling, he went over to the crack and crouched down, uncovering the dust covering it.

It's not a crack, Mike realised, it's a crevice.

He ran his fingers along the crevice and found the shape; a square. This square felt different to the concrete around him. It was more like a light metal. Just off the centre was a small bracket, with a handlebar.

"It's a trap door." He stated bluntly, as if he needed to tell himself of that. Pulling the handlebar, Mike lifted the door open. Underneath was a small ladder and a staircase leading downwards.

He didn't even need to go down the ladder to see the staircase leading to nowhere; a thick wall of concrete, different from the walls, blocked it.

For what felt like forever, Mike remained kneeling there, wondering.

Sorry for the lack of uploads. I've experienced a bit of burnout that I'm just trying to remedy at the moment.

TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3: Without a doubt, when I was planning on tackling Sister Location, it was always going to have that certain tone to it. It felt so different to the previous games, so it was unavoidable. Tyler is of course massively experienced in his own right, but you're right on the money about him being new to this case. Naturally, this comes with him lacking the connection that Tom, Sam, and Carl all had with it and Mike. The situation with Quantum was also something that I couldn't really forget about. It's strange, because that was a last minute addition to the last story, yet the ramifications (Their work with a criminal emperor, Sam's failed murder of Reznov) became a huge part of the characters.