Mable: Here we are! This chapter gave me a little difficulty for some reason, but I got it cleaned up just in time for post. ^_^ Enjoy!

Going Home in a Box

Chapter Eight

The day had been a pretty typical one. There was a normal flow of patrons, the single party went off without a hitch, and while Foxy was quieter than usual, he didn't seem to be in a depressed funk. So, everything seemed to be relatively alright.

It wasn't until closing time and cleanup had begun that the rather usual day was suddenly turned on its head, and it started with Mike noticing that Carlton was looking out the front windows instead of sweeping around the entrance.

Mike wasn't a stickler when it came to work. As long as it got done, he wasn't going to crack down on Carlton for taking a break or getting in a moment to talk with Charlie or anyone else. It was the fact that the younger man was clearly looking at something outside with such interest that he had stopped in place. Mike, who was leaning against the doorway of the Prize Corner, called to him.

"What's going on out there?" he asked. The redhead looked to him and back through the window, then pointed out.

"My dad just pulled up," Carlton answered. Mike's brows shot up and he walked over to see for himself. Sure enough, there was Clay Burke getting out of his car with a firm look on his face. Clearly not a leisurely visit.

"Ugh, what happened now?" he muttered, and Carlton shrugged. Without another word, Mike walked to the front door and opened it, then greeted Clay with the exact same, "What happened?"

"Someone broke into Freddy's Megaplex and tore up the place."

That one line was enough to knock Mike entirely speechless. He had absolutely no response, instead choosing to just step aside while holding the door open to let the man in.

"I'm taking it from that look it wasn't you," Clay said as he came in. "But there's reason to believe it comes back to Foxy's. Is there somewhere we can speak in private?"

Mike snapped out of his shock and gestured towards the Prize Corner door. "In here," he said as he led him inside. Carlton raised his brows after them before walking off to tell the others. Mike leaned back against the counter with his hands in his pockets, took a deep breath, and very bluntly and grimly asked, "Who was it?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Clay said. Mike quirked a brow, solemn expression quickly receding.

"Wait, so you don't know who it was? Then why do you think they came from here? I know we have bad blood with Freddy's, but we're not the only ones and we've got the most to lose."

"I would agree, but they were wearing a mask that looked like Foxy's face."

Mike let it sink in a second before covering his eyes with one hand and muttering a colorful swear under his breath. He then drew his hand up across his forehead, through his hair, and then pointed with it at an upper shelf. "There they are."

The masks were rather simple and made of a sturdy plastic. There was currently only about ten of them hanging up, with a few Puppet masks and a majority Foxy. The Puppet ones tended to go a bit better, but they weren't nearly as popular as the toys and trinkets were. Clay looked up at them and immediately furrowed his brows.

"These are the only ones you have?" he asked. Mike nodded, and Clay shook his head. "It didn't look like these. I saw the footage myself, the mask had a rounder shape and looked to be made of felt. There wasn't this much detail either."

Clay wasn't looking at Mike, so he didn't see a slow realization pass the younger man's face. He knew exactly what mask he was describing and off the top if his head he couldn't remember who had it last, though he did know who had it first. That wasn't the only realization he had though as he picked up the older man's less than professional way of dropping information.

"This isn't like an official search, is it?" he asked.

"No, it isn't. It's just me trying to figure out what happened before it's out of my hands," Clay confessed. "And to give you heads up in case there is a full investigation."

"What gets the ball rolling on a full investigation?"

"Whether or not Fazbear Entertainment are looking to press charges," Clay said, and Mike hissed through his teeth. "Level with me, Mike. I don't have a search warrant and I'm not turning anyone in. Any idea who could've done this?"

"No clue. This whole thing is news to me," he insisted. Even though he did have a slight suspicion of a lead. Though before he could worry about being called out, a third voice suddenly joined in.

"He was with me all night," Marionette said. Both looked over to see the Puppet rising from his box, with only one of them knowing he was in it. He stood at full height, stance straight and controlled, and turned to Clay with his mask holding its default grin, save the slightest tilt to the eyes. He was always somewhat wary of Burke and this newfound accusation didn't help matters.

"What about you? Did you hear anything?" Clay asked.

"I have not. This is the first time I've heard of any break-in. If anyone said anything or acted suspicious, I would have noticed it, and I certainly wouldn't protect someone who was willing to make us a target," Marionette said firmly. He was believable but Mike recognized that edge of protectiveness in his voice. There was no way that the mask tip had gone over his head.

Clay considered this for a moment before giving a nod. "I trust your judgement. I'll still be asking the rest of the staff, see if any of them flinch under questioning," he said. He began to head out to find Fritz or Jeremy. "Are you coming?"

"I'll be there in a second. Let me just double-check my alibi really quick," Mike answered. Clay didn't take it seriously and continued out, with Marionette slipping out of his box to follow and peeking out the door to make sure he was gone.

He then promptly spun around and faced Mike with an expression of shock and horror.

"It was Foxy."

Either it was the look on Marionette's face or the dire way he said that, but something made Mike burst out with a barely stifled laugh. The Puppet's face fell with an unappreciative frown. "Mike, it's not funny."

"When you say it like that it is. You caught me off-guard," he retorted. He quickly got himself under control. "I think you're onto something with that being Foxy's mask, but I think if Clay was looking close enough to see the texture of it that he would've noticed it was Foxy wearing it. He's not exactly subtle. You've seen the way he walks."

"…Yes, that's true. Foxy could've been wearing a disguise, but it would be hard not to notice something… Especially when we're discussing Clay Burke," Marionette murmured that last part. Fingers tented, eyes cast down, and wariness showing.

"And unless I'm wrong, the last time I saw that mask was in Foxy's room." Mike's smile tightened as the wheels in his head turned to an uncomfortable possibility. "With Jeremy."

"Could Jeremy?" Marionette asked doubtfully.

"I don't know... No, he wouldn't, but I'm going to ask him when Clay's not haunting the place," he said. Honestly, he didn't think Jeremy would do anything like that. The only reason he even suspected him was the mask and because of Jeremy's relationship with Foxy. But as far as he knew, the mask could still be here at the pizzeria. He leaned in and muttered to Marionette, still looking out the door, "Probably Carlton. He has a history of break-ins."

Marionette chimed in strained, awkward laughter. Mike patted him on the back before heading out, with the Puppet following close behind him before taking his hand to accompany him.

The first thing they saw was the look on Fritz's face as he was talking with Clay. There went the last connections on those frayed nerves, they would be lucky if he didn't have a total breakdown. Marionette caught sight of Jeremy's expression, who was standing nearby. He was looking startled by it all, but he didn't have that look of guilt. Marionette leaned in and spoke in a hushed tone.

"I don't think it was him," he said. Mike stole a glance for himself and nodded in agreement. "And there IS a possibility that it wasn't any of us at all." The man looked sidelong at the puppet, who leaned in closer to whisper into his ear. "Fazbear Entertainment has their reputation for ruthlessness for a reason. One day after you turned down their offer and suddenly we're the prime suspect in a crime at their establishment? That is peculiar."

He had a very good point with that one. Enough of one that Mike was going to pass it on to Clay on his way out. Though as said as he had said it, Marionette noticed the drawn curtains on Foxy's stage. That worry and suspicion briefly welled up again before he pushed it down. Mike was right, they would've noticed Foxy on camera.

Clay went around and asked everyone what they knew and found similar shocked reactions to Mike's. He was a good read of people, and he was confident he could've spotted the smallest hint of guilt or fear, but nobody showed it. He headed into the kitchen to ask Tabby. The moment he was out of the room, the three owners and the puppet gathered into a small circle.

"Here comes that lawsuit we've been joking about," Fritz said through clenched teeth, watching the kitchen door. That's as far as he got before Clay came right back out, having got a brisk answer from the cook and being content with it. He looked over the small group momentarily before coming over himself.

"Alright then I'm going to get out of your hair. If you do hear anything then call me, please. I'm not looking for a suspect, I'm just trying to keep a close eye on the situation," Clay said a little more gently. This seemed to ease up Fritz and Mike's concerns a little, Jeremy still looked nervous, and Marionette had that blank smile.

"…What if this is a set-up by Freddy's? We were just down there yesterday rejecting a business deal," Mike asked.

"With Freddy's history, I'd rather that than someone sneaking in afterhours. If you catch my drift," Clay said. "If anyone over there coughs up to it, get it on tape and in my hands and you'll be fine. I'm not taking anything else from them." After a brief pause where he mulled this over, he asked, "What did you see in there?"

"The place is huge, the animatronics are in tanks, they've already got one they dumped," Mike listed off.

"I've got a free pass if you want it," Jeremy chimed up.

Clay sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. Even he looked fed up with all of this and he wasn't the only one. Though he still stayed and listened as the three recounted their semi-tour of the Pizzaplex in full. None of it went ignored either and he found the same little tidbits as they did to be concerning. It was clear that even the police force was wary of the return of Freddy's, at least from how Clay put it.

When they finished up, he started to make hid way out and only delayed so when he noticed Charlie out of her box and speaking to Carlton. They looked to him as he walked up.

"Afternoon, Charlie. How's life treating you?" he asked. There was always an amount of familiarity and concern in his voice when he addressed her over anyone else. She smiled a little despite the circumstances.

"Surviving. When it's not a supermall wiping you out of business it's something else. Like a paper plate shortage," she said. "…Or some guy who decided to advertise your business while committing a bunch of crimes."

"It really is a strange situation. Have you heard anything?" Clay asked. Then added, in what was obviously not seriousness, "If you come clean now, I might be able to arrange a plea with community service."

"You caught me, Clay. I fashioned a Foxy mask out of some curtains and wrote a list of complaints all over their furniture," Charlie said with an edge of snark. She then clarified, "This is the first I've heard of it, and you see how many tables are around my box. The news must've not spread yet."

"I'm thinking this is one of those things Freddy's won't want to get out," Carlton said. "How do you tell people that your security's so lousy that someone broke in before it even opened?"

"Add that to Freddy's history of accidents and disappearances and it's going to look bad. They're already trying to partner up just to make themselves look better," Charlie added.

"That is a very good point…" Clay seemed to get lost in thought for a moment. Charlie slightly tilted her head with a jingle, hoping he would take the message and voice his suspicions, but he didn't. "I'll let you know if I find out anything. Are you coming home after work?" The question was aimed towards his son, who he looked at.

"That's the plan," Carlton said.

"Good, I should be home and have dinner done by then."

"Aww, but Dad I wanted to eat the leftover pizza piled up in the trashcan," Carlton joked, leaning on the broom.

"You might have to fight Foxy for it," Charlie chimed in. She sent a look over to see if Foxy was looking out from his curtain, hoping it caught his attention. His curtain was still closed to an inch, and she dropped her arm with a defeated slump. She thought he would've been all over this, but maybe he was too aware of the possible repercussions.

"Don't give anyone a hard time," Clay reminded Carlton, unenthused by his joke but getting a slight smile. "And be careful driving home. There's a football game at the high school tonight."

Carlton agreed a little more seriously and walked his father to the door before returning to his sweeping as Clay headed out. Charlie sent him a last wave before turning her attention back to the closed curtain. Foxy still hadn't moved.

As soon as Clay's car could be heard driving off, Marionette hovered past Mike and started making a beeline towards the hallway. Saying nothing more than, "Office, now. Follow me."

"You're the boss," Mike answered. He wasn't going to argue with that tone. Fritz and Jeremy looked over, so he pointed at them and then pointed back at the wall with his thumbs, signaling them to follow.

They hastily did, not noticing Foxy peek out from behind his curtain as they headed into the hall and into the office. Charlie did but couldn't read much from it. As soon as the last one stepped through the office door, Fritz, Marionette shut the door behind him- as he had been squeezed behind the door when they came in and almost gave Fritz a start with the quick motion of it- and faced the three men.

"It wasn't any of us," Marionette said. Though it was more of a question than a statement and all three nodded. "Then that means it is either someone out there, someone with an affinity for the business, or someone looking to frame us."

"What do you mean, frame us?" Jeremy asked in confusion.

"He means using the possibility of a lawsuit as leverage," Mike pointed out. Fritz especially got a grim look at that and took a deep breath.

"Guess that means I'm calling Wight back," he said while releasing that breath slowly. He started around the desk to reach the phone. "Unless that's going to be some kind of admission of guilt."

"The mask he mentioned sounds an awful lot like Foxy's old mask," Marionette said grimly. This got a sudden look from Jeremy, but he noticed the unsureness of the puppet's face. "…That being said, as Mike has said, Clay must've been looking close at the footage. He would've had to have noticed if it was him."

"Yeah. Right. You would notice that…" Jeremy said with equal uncertainty. It was more that he wanted to believe it than he did, but just as quickly he started thinking about the entirety of the situation, and that's when he had an epiphany.

"Guys…" Jeremy said with a growing tone of dread. "They're going to think it was me." Mike and Fritz both looked at him with surprise and confusion. "I was wearing all that Foxy stuff yesterday, I left during your big talk, and I was getting in trouble for graffiti all the time as a kid. I got suspended two or three times getting caught 'vandalizing school property'." He paused for comment but the two remained awfully quiet. "…Why are you looking at me like that?"

"We're not," Mike swiftly denied. The blond continued looking between them questioningly. "…Okay, I'll admit that I did have a couple of minutes where I thought you might've done it, but I straightened myself out." The look on Jeremy's face was enough to make him feel guilty. "I'm sorry. You know I trust you," he said more sincerely.

"I know," Jeremy said. "…Was it because of my rap sheet or because I'm with Foxy?"

"Because you're with Foxy, I swear. You know I'd do the same thing for him," Mike said, gesturing to Marionette.

"I never doubted you for a second, Jere," Fritz announced as he found the paper with Wight's number and began to dial it in. "But only because I know you wouldn't have done anything that crazy without us." He then made a motion for the others to quiet as the phone rang through.

"Please put it on speaker," Marionette requested, which Fritz seamlessly did. The Puppet then lowered his voice to address the other two men. "Their hand is now better than ours. We will need to play carefully."

"Is it too late to fold?" Mike flatly asked.

"Y'know when you fold you lose everything, right?" Jeremy asked. There was a tinge of amusement, but still a lingering nervousness in his tone.

"Don't remind me," he muttered.

"Fazbear Entertainment, James Wight speaking."

"Heeey, James. It's me, Sam. A little birdie with a badge told me about what happened over at the Pizzaplex, and I wanted to check in and see what's up," Fritz said in the most charismatic tone he could manage.

"Why, thank you! Really is a terrible shame. Not any lasting damage though. Someone took a spray can to the main stage and Rockstar Row, but I believe it's been cleaned up by now. The bigger issue is finding how they might've gotten in. We couldn't find a single unlocked door to the outside! The fiend must've dropped in through the ceiling!"

"That's rough, but at least it was something you could just clean up. I heard vandalism and the first thing that came to mind was broken windows and a lot of glass." James laughed over the phone. "Mike's here too. He's on speaker."

"Hey."

"Ah, hello! How has it been?"

"Our usual 'get through one day before disaster strikes'," Mike answered.

"So- Okay, that's not the only reason we called. We heard- from this officer- that there was footage and that the person who did this… might've been wearing a Foxy mask. We didn't see it for ourselves-."

"It didn't even match the masks in our Prize Corner. Ours are plastic," Mike chimed in.

"-but this looks bad for us, and we wanted to call and tell you that it wasn't us. We were just discussing business yesterday, we're not going to then turn around and then attack your pizzeria," Fritz insisted.

"And if we did, we wouldn't be advertising our brand."

"Exactly!"

"Oh no, don't you worry about that! I find this all very suspicious too. Some of the things they wrote with paint were… disturbing, to say the least…" James' typically jovial tone dropped to a much more uneased one before adding in, "Don't be afraid of that. I was quite certain it wasn't you two."

That "you two" was caught by everyone in the room. The way he emphasized it meant it was impossible to ignore it and the implications he was suggesting. Maybe it was guilt from his position earlier or just his loyalty towards him, but Mike felt protectiveness towards Jeremy kick in. Though he knew directly bring it up would be suspicious. He had to go another route.

"It's a real shame. Anyway, since we've got you on the phone…" Mike began. He looked at Fritz as though double-checking with him. Fritz gave him the go ahead with a nod. Mike leaned on the desk and finished with, "Let's talk business."

"Really? Certainly! I didn't expect you to change your mind so quickly!"

"I didn't. We were just discussing the deal last night and we have a few questions we were hoping you could square up," Mike quickly corrected. "Is this a bad time?"

"Not at all! Go ahead, what would you like to know? Let me be your window to clarity!"

"Right, that," Mike said, getting a disinterested glaze to his eyes. "First thing's first, the rights to Foxy. We are under no circumstances ever handing over any rights to Foxy, Mari, Lottie, or any other characters. You got any problems with that?"

"Certainly not. El Chip's is the same way. Everything we do with El Chip goes through Glenn beforehand. We own no legal rights to El Chip's… That is, we do have a contract of ownership with the location. But if El Chip's decided to leave the Fazbear family, the restaurant would be immediately rebranded."

"That what happened to Bunny Bowl?" Mike blatantly asked. He got a wicked grin at James' following sputtering and Fritz's violent neck cutting motion.

"I- I assure you- I know what you're thinking and no, we never had any intention of using Bonnie the Bunny, if that's what you think. No, no, Bunny from Bunny Bowl- spelled with an 'i', that is- was an original rabbit character made after we realized we no longer had the rights. She has the spirit of Bonnie, but she's a fresh face for the Freddy gang!"

"But can she do the "Bunni" shuffle?" Mike asked coyly. This was enough to get Marionette to poke him sharply in the back and have Fritz overtake the conversation.

"Okay, so that sounds good. Us keeping our characters and rights I mean," he said. "My question would be: where would you put Foxy in the Pizzaplex? Just off the top of your head from what we've said, where would be the best spot?"

"Excellent question! I was thinking about it and remembered something Mr. Schmidt said. Kids Cove is truly the only ocean or beach themed attraction, and wouldn't you know it, but it is the only attraction that does not have a character mascot!"

That was suspicious. Suspicious enough that Fritz sent Mike a quirked brow, a silent "is he serious?" While Mike looked at Marionette and gestured at the phone is disbelief, a silent "are you hearing this?" Marionette's glare signaled that he did.

"Now it wouldn't require an animatronic, so don't you worry about that. I was thinking of something more subdued. Character cut-outs, posters, perhaps even a painted mural, and then we can have the merchandise cart set right outside the entrance. So that kids might get a Foxy on their way in and out of the play area."

"That's a good idea. That would be great for Foxy to get such a sizeable role," Fritz tentatively said, clearing his throat. "But we're thinking of something smaller to start out with."

"Way smaller," Mike added.

"I see. Well… Well, what about that merchandise cart idea? We could do that on a sort of trial basis and once you see the profits, you can decide on Foxy's role at the Pizzaplex. Better to try something simple than nothing at all!"

"That's a possibility. We'll have to crunch some numbers and see if it'll work for us," Fritz excused, trying to back out of the fake deal as fast as possible. "Give us a few days to talk it over with our guys and then we'll see what's what."

"Wonderful! Take all the time you need."

He sounded certain of that. Marionette noticed and a low noise was beginning to stir in his chest. A sort of humming rattle, like a mix of static and ticking. Nervous and frustrated most likely, and Mike reached back to put an arm around him.

"In the meantime, we'll be… having to take a closer look at our security," James admitted with a sigh. "We were hoping we could get by until all of the measures were online, but now there's some concerns about whether that will be enough. Automation is the wave of the future, but it is also in its infancy. We might need to get a human on-site until we're certain there won't be any more slips."

"Wait, do you mean like a security guard?" Fritz asked.

"Possibly. Likely."

Marionette instantly went rigid at that reveal and looked to Mike out the corner of his eye. He searched his face for any interest and noticed that brow edge again, but no instant draw in his eyes. No spontaneous reaction that showed he was about to pounce… but he was thinking. That motion was enough to show that, and Marionette could only imagine what he was thinking of, bringing the troubled line of his mouth into a worried frown.

A temptation like this didn't come every day, but usually when it did Mike was quick to snatch it. Except in this case, it was something much worse than a week at Hickory Dickory's or a weekend at Chipper's, and harder to resist. He was barely paying attention as Fritz finally went ahead with ending the call.

"Well, we're going to let you go. Hope that all goes well."

"Thank you! I'll be awaiting your next call!"

"Sure, bye." Fritz hung up before he could get dragged back into a conversation. He stared at the phone for a long moment before looking across at the dark-haired man. "…Mike, what just happened?"

"We saved ourselves from becoming a target. As long as Fazbear Entertainment thinks there's a chance of reeling us in, they won't throw us to the sharks," he answered before leaning in. "We didn't make any deals just yet. It's all just talking."

"That's like saying we're not drowning yet, we're just walking on thin ice," Fritz said dryly. It was then that Jeremy leaned in with a raised hand to flag their attention.

"What about him hiring a security guard? I'm pretty sure 'possibly' and 'likely' equal a yes," he said, then proceeded to look directly at Mike. As did everyone else at that second. Mike looked between them before getting a flat look.

"I appreciate the concern, but I'd have to be pretty stupid to try and take a job at Freddy's when the guy running the place already knows my face. I know I've got a bad track record, but I'm not that desperate to get myself almost killed."

"So, you're not going to try for the position?" Marionette asked in surprise.

"You sound disappointed," Mike offered with a quirked brow. To which the puppet's mask broke with a relieved smile.

"On the contrary, that's great to hear! You know I would follow you to the ends of the earth and I would always protect you, and I know you can protect yourself, but… Freddy's holds an amount of danger and uncertainty that I don't ever want you wrapped back up in. At least, not with any kind of binding employment contract," Marionette confessed. He rubbed his arm sheepishly, but his smile remained. "I want you here with me."

"Good, because that's the plan," Mike agreed, getting a smile of his own. "As much as I would love to do reconnaissance from the inside out, I'm not looking to get in that deep. I'll just burn the place down after it closes. Worked last time."

"Try not to say anything like that around Clay. It's a Freddy's, there's a good chance it will spontaneously burn down," Marionette reminded. His perking mood faltering slight with a sigh. "One can only hope."

"Looks like we're in for another round of bad news for Foxy… Let me break it to him alone. Even if it's not a real deal, he's going to think it is," Jeremy said. Nobody argued with that, though it was clear his confidence wasn't all there. "Where do I even start? If I say it first, he's not listening to the rest. If I wait to say it, he's going to take it the wrong way."

"Just tell him that the reason we're even pretending to go along with this is because you are the primary suspect, and if we don't play nice with Freddy's you will be the one who they target," Marionette said. His voice firmed up considerably. Jeremy nodded and started to head out the door.

"Back to thinking it was Foxy?" Mike asked lowly enough that he thought Jeremy wouldn't hear. The blond did in fact hear it and spun around at the door, and the two exchanged a brief stare.

"I can't be too sure. It's still possible that this might be a ruse from Fazbear Entertainment. The timing would be perfect with you turning down his first offer. But I can't ignore that mask, and I can't ignore how frustrated and helpless Foxy must feel about all of this…" Marionette said, voicing dipping in sympathy. Though it quickly slipped to suspicion. "I don't trust Mr. Wight. I can hear that he's covering up something."

"Other than about thirty murders?" Mike flatly asked.

"Yes. An accent," he answered. That was enough to silence Mike as fast as Clay had. While he processed what the puppet meant, Marionette looked back to Jeremy. "But please don't tell Foxy I suspect him, or that any of us do. He's having a hard time right now and if I am wrong, which I might be, it would break his heart a lot more than someone trying to set us up."

Jeremy felt his chest tighten at that and nodded. "I'm going to go do that," he said before heading out the door.

The office was left in an uncomfortable silence. All three occupants left deep in thought and none about the same thing.

"I hope he's not hinting what I think he's hinting," Mike thought. Still looking at Marionette who had his eyes down casted, probably worrying about Foxy. "…Maybe he's imagining it. I already told him James looks like Will, so maybe he got the idea in his head even before he got on the phone. It didn't sound like there was an accent to me."

"Of all the times we could've sent someone in to spy, this time we've got the perfect setup and for some reason we decided to all announce that we worked at Foxy's," Fritz lamented. Then added with more deflation, "Guess it doesn't really matter. It's Fazbear Entertainment, they probably have us all on record." There was another long pause where neither of the others commented, then he popped up from his seat. "Guess it's back to work."

Business as usual, really. The three left and returned to their closing procedures, expecting to get only a little done before Foxy made another run to the bathroom to start barking obscurities.

But Foxy was oddly silent and this time everyone noticed.

While Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex was largely self-sufficient, there were some things that required a human touch. Things such as the business aspect, the marketing side of things, the paperwork, most of that was down outside of the Pizzaplex itself in an office building located right on the edge of St. George. That wasn't to say there wouldn't be some office work happening in the Pizzaplex once it opened, but most of the managerial magic happened here.

This was also where the hiring happened. Typically, they were looking for IT workers, robotics technicians, but even on those fronts they had been cut back now that the Pizzaplex was about to open, leading to a wave of layoffs to cut back on any extra expenses. Except now they needed to hire on a security guard, something that by all accounts wasn't supposedly necessary with the numerous cameras and bots watching over the complex.

But he could get behind that. It only seemed necessary to have a few humans in there to oversee the place at night. Even if it was just one person. A person who he assumed would be something like a retired cop.

Not a young blond with bright eyes and a face of freckles.

By all accounts she was the worst pick for the job and the first candidate to show up, which surprisingly didn't do her any favors. Her inexperience didn't help either. Sure, she had a security guard job on record, but it was for a small company in the next town over. It was nothing compared to keeping an eye on the entire Pizzaplex on her own.

She had only one thing in her favor, but it was quite a doozy. She had a recommendation from a previous manager at a Freddy's establishment and, while Fazbear Entertainment prided themselves with being new and improved, this wasn't the first time they had bowed to previous employees to give them jobs or get references. That was the whole reason Charles, or Chaz as he went, had gotten a job regardless of his history with Freddy's.

Now the hiring manager did not recognize the name of the man who recommended her, but he had a Fazbear email and sent faxes of all sorts of paperwork. Either it was official or a very good forgery, to which he would lean towards the former. The woman was probably a friend or relative looking for what she thought was an easy job.

Technically, with that referral his hands were tied. He was stuck hiring her even against his better judgement. Yet he was still the slightest bit reluctant.

"So, Vanessa, what led you to applying for this position? It's a big job for one person and your work history in this field is… brief compared to other candidates," the interviewer asked. Of course, there hadn't been other candidates, but the only way he would be able to see anymore would be if he could convince her to not take the job. She seemed unbothered by his question.

"I've always loved Freddy's. Back when I was a kid, my family was struggling, and my only escape was going to Freddy's to play games and eat pizza and stuff. I loved it so much, but then Freddy's closed, and things got rough. I had to start working young to help out the family and I've been working ever since. I would love to work at Freddy's. I was planning on applying before, but this is the first job I'm qualified for."

"Right…" The interviewer glanced down at the paperwork again. "But you are aware of what the job entails. Your shift would cover from 11PM to 6AM and you will be expected to do routine rounds through most of the building. It's a much bigger undertaking compared to the job you listed on record."

"I understand that, but I'm in shape and I'm a night owl. I'll manage," Vanessa insisted. She gave him a smile that he returned in a less than convincing fashion.

"Plus, it will be afterhours. None of the attractions will be running and no shows will be playing. You would likely be sitting in silence for hours when you're not doing your rounds. It's not really the Freddy's experience you think it is."

"No problem. I was doing the same thing at my last job. The only difference was it occasionally got broken up by taking rowdy people outside. Watching a quiet building's going to be a lot less stressful."

She was utter determined it seemed, and he wasn't in a position to say no. Maybe he could send a message to Wight and talk him out of it, but right now his hands were tied. He supposed that worst case scenario, she did a poor job and they had to get someone else anyway. That wasn't really his problem. As long as he could get his doubts in writing, he wouldn't be liable if she screwed up.

He finally managed a more realistic smile. "Well, Vanessa, it looks like everything's checked out. I'll have to run it by the higher ups to make sure, but it looks like you're on your way to being part of the Fazbear family."

She barely restrained her excitement as they went through the last of the formalities before she left the building with her head held high. She got into her car and drove out of the parking lot, her smile never leaving her face.

In fact, it only grew more eager as she eventually pulled up into her driveway. She forced a normal face as much as she could and let herself in the front door.

"I'm home!" she called. She made her way into the kitchen area where her boyfriend and friends had been waiting for news. She managed a straight face until that moment when she smiled and gave a triumphant, "I got the job!"

"You did?! That's insane!" Fritz exclaimed. "Not saying I'm surprised, you're way more qualified than most the people they've hired. Including us." He pointed back at Mike, Jeremy, and Scott. None of which argued. "Just that- Wight didn't recognize you?"

"Wight didn't even see me. They had a completely different guy interview me and let me say, I don't think he had any faith in me," Natalie remarked. She smiled towards Scott. "I think Scott's referral is the only thing that sealed the deal."

"Yeah… Glad to help," Scott said. He wasn't looking great, slumped in the armchair with his hands gripping the armrests, voice sounding shaky. "…They didn't, uh, say anything about me, right?"

"Nothing. He didn't even question it," Natalie said, to which he breathed an exhale of partial relief. "But he was seriously questioning me. I wouldn't be surprised if he calls here just to talk me out of it."

"Congrats, Nat. You've finally joined the club," Mike said, coming in to shake her hand with a cocky little smile. Jeremy coming up as well to give her a one-armed hug.

"Thanks! It was worth selling out for the chance of an employee discount. Anybody needs anymore toys or candy? I'm your gal."

"You know it's going to be me and I'm going to use up that whole discount," Jeremy forewarned. "My children demand sun candy- and yes, they put it exactly like that when they asked me."

"Doesn't sound like an ask."

"It isn't."

"I'm really glad this worked out. I'll tell ya, I haven't used that work account since… gosh, it had to be before I left Freddy's. I barely even used it then," Scott explained. He still had that distant look like he was imagining the worst-case scenario of every outcome, which he probably was. Mike, sympathetic and knowing exactly how he felt, reached down, and squeezed his shoulder.

"Take it easy. They don't know where you live," he reminded.

"Uh, right. They don't..." Mike gave a final pat and drew back his hand to stick in his pocket. Scott stared ahead for a moment before pushing up from the armchair. "Well, I should get back to my emotional support clown."

"Are you sure? We're probably going out to celebrate. You're welcome to tag along," Fritz offered. Scott considered this for a second.

"Uh… Maybe. I've got to go home and change, I can't go out in this," he said, gesturing down to his button-down olive sweater, which was arguably the most formal thing being worn in that room. Not that they were going to fight him on it. "…You know, maybe I should come along. I don't want to just go home and hide. Just let me stop by the house, change my shirt, give Ennard and Baby a quick head's up, unplug my phone, and I'll meet you there. Call me about where?"

"On your cell?" Mike asked with a grin. Scott pointed at him as though confirming and headed towards the door.

"Thanks again, Scott. I really owe you one, and don't worry about a thing. I'm not going to say anything about you or any of us once I'm in there. My lips are sealed," Natalie reassured.

"Don't worry about it. Really, you're the first person I've ever recommended who I'd actually recommend. My last one was this guy named Patrick who kept stealing everything he could get his hands on. I felt bad for him, but he'd walk out of the pizzeria with five or six rolls of toilet paper shoved under his jacket. He didn't get laid off until he started emptying out the tip jar," Scott rambled as he made his way to the door, Mike following along with him. "…So, yeah. Call me."

Mike gave him a thumbs up and shut the door behind him. Back in the kitchen, the conversation had continued.

"So, in case they call, what name did you use?" Fritz asked.

"I gave them my cell only, so if they call on the house phone you don't know who I am," Natalie clarified. "And I'm going as Vanessa!"

"…Like Ness?" Jeremy asked in confusion.

"Right! I thought if I used the name of someone already working there, I'd get lost in the crowd. They'll never be sure if it's me or her," Natalie explained. Jeremy gave her a knowingly doubtful look. "…Okay, so I like the name and wanted to try it out. It'll be fine! She works in the gift shop, it's not like we're going to see each other."

"Watch, now that you said that you're going to be on gift shop duty," Fritz remarked. She sent him a look and a little smile.

"I'll make sure to ask when they call to give me my schedule," she said sarcastically. "I'll be going in at eleven and getting home probably around six-thirty, so it looks like we'll be sleeping in shifts."

At that moment something clicked

Fritz had known Natalie was going to do this. They all discussed it beforehand, she had volunteered, and they had all warned and tried to talk her out of it, but she had been adamant that she wanted to do this. Fritz had known well in advance what she was planning on doing and even initially celebrated her getting the job. It wasn't until hearing those hours that it suddenly registered that Natalie got a job at Freddy's.

Compared to Scott and Jeremy's experiences, Fritz's time at Freddy's had been rather tame. Sure, he had to change his name and had a few traumatic memories, but he didn't come out maimed. He handled life post-Freddy's pretty well. Yet the fear that suddenly gripped him when he realized he had let his Natalie get a job at Freddy's was unlike any he had felt before. It was sudden and ruthless, and he fell silent.

Natalie noticed his quietness after a minute. He kept a relatively neutral face so she couldn't see the true extent of his feelings, but she could tell something was bothering him. She slipped an arm around his lower back, catching his attention, and as he turned to her, she gave him a quick kiss and an assuring smile. He returned one, but she could see the nervousness in his eyes.

But that was okay, she decided, because she had already made up her mind.

It was time to put that exercise regimen to good use.

Mable: Yes.