Mable: Here we are! Enjoy!

Going Home in a Box

Chapter Fourteen

All things considered, nobody was surprised when "Vanessa" came into the working office of Fazbear Entertainment and vied for another hire. This was actually expected from anyone who knew of the conditions inside of the Pizzaplex. Though Vanessa had made it clear that she didn't intend to quit, she strongly suggested that they consider signing on a second security guard.

As luck would have it, less than a few hours later someone showed up looking for a job. Though he didn't exactly look like the security guard type, so it was no surprise that it wasn't the job he was applying for.

The interviewer couldn't say he had much confidence in this one either. The guy looked like he had just walked out of a sitcom; hair slicked back, wearing a button up white shirt and a thick pair of square glasses, even brought his own pen that was poking out of his pocket. He had a goofy smile the whole time his work history and recommendation was being read with his hands folded in his lap.

The kid's name was Nathaniel Shalt and for some unbelievable reason he had a recommendation from the same person who recommended Vanessa. This could've been a coincidence, but he had a hunch that maybe, with how she had been talking today, she had probably reached back out to that man to send up another applicant. It was peculiar, but he wasn't concerned, because there wasn't technically a deadline to fill a position over his head.

"So, exactly what position were you applying for?" the interviewer asked. He had gone through a list of various locations he had worked at- including El Chip's and Hickory Dickory's, which Freddy's had both done recent business with- and listed skills he had, but he never specified anywhere what he was angling towards. Looking at his application papers, it didn't look like he was qualified for too much.

The young man nervously shifted in his chair and eagerly began to prattle. "I was- well- y'know, I just- I think that Freddy's is amazing. The stuff you guys have been doing over the years is phenomenal, super cool stuff, and I just- I want a chance to be a part of that. To prove I can be a part of that. That's like my life's dream, y'know? Real life robots- it's like something out of, uh, Galaxy Battle… Y'know, sci-fi! I'm sort of a sci-fi buff myself, heh."

Something about this guy's eyes stood out a little too much. They were a simple brown, but they seemed especially boldly colored, like he was wearing contacts. The interviewer only noticed because his own eyes were glazing over at the ramble.

"So, I could… I could do any position! I'm a hard worker, you can put me anywhere! I just want to be a part of this, and I'll work really hard, and who knows? Maybe someday I can start working with the bots! That's sort of my main goal, to become like some kind of animatronic technician, and where better to get started on the first leg of my journey than here!... It'd be wicked cool, y'know?" Nathaniel said with a smile.

"I'm sure it would be, and I've got to say, I admire your enthusiasm… The problem is your qualifications," the interviewer said. He drew back the paper to look over it. "You didn't mention your degree."

"Oh, uh, I don't have one- yet! I'm working towards it! I'm a year in the door!" Nathaniel assured, pointing finger guns at the man. He looked exceptionally dorky, it almost made him feel bad cutting him down.

"Well see, that kind of rules you out of most open positions. As for being a technician, that's not going to happen. Sorry to be blunt, but you don't even have an associate degree. You would need a bachelor's in an appropriate major at least and a work history with references."

"I-I'm working towards one," the kid defended. "I meant as a goal! I didn't- I didn't think I'd be working with robots now-."

"I hope El Chip's didn't have you working on animatronics," the interviewer said. He meant to say it under his breath, but it ended up coming out as a blunt statement. The other was staring at him in surprise, rendered speechless, and while he felt a little bad, he knew he had to shoot this kid's expectations down a little. Working at Freddy's wasn't the magical dream job Fazbear Entertainment made it to be.

"What I mean is that you are underqualified, and I don't want you being on the hook for anything when you weren't properly trained. That's not fair to you, it's not fair to Freddy's, and it's not fair to the customers," the interviewer explained in a gentler but matter-of-fact tone. He got a slight grimace. "Unfortunately, there's not really any positions open for someone of your… limited qualifications. Now, I'm not saying you're not a hard worker! I'm just saying that I am required to have a certain amount of schooling and experience before I hire anyone on."

"O-Okay, but- wait, what about- I heard you guys were hiring night guards? What about a night guard? I could do that! I might not look that big, but I can run really fast," Nathaniel said. His smile shakily returned in desperate hope.

"That position is already filled."

"But- isn't- there was only one position?" he asked meeker. The man across the desk nodded. "Err, uh, well… What about a janitor?"

"We've got a fully automated cleaning staff. Sorry, but we just don't hire janitors anymore."

"You don't have anything," Nathaniel repeated.

"All of the jobs you would be able to apply for have already been filled. I'm sorry."

At that point a sort of weird look settled over Nathaniel's face. The interviewer was expecting disappointment from the flustered kid, just hoping he wouldn't burst into tears and beg for a job, but instead there was a glint in his eyes. That glint he saw from applicants only before they exploded in anger. Even the tightness in his jaw seemed to suggest he was holding him back.

"Oh… Well, thank you for your time and, uh… I-if you change your mind, there's my number! I could still come in… Yeah," Nathaniel said awkwardly as he stood from his chair. He was surprisingly quiet as he exited the office and made his way out of the building. Much to the interviewer's relief, expecting something much worse from glint that passed his eyes.

He was right too. It took every amount of control to get into that elevator and simply leave without another word. A few of the workers around the office watched him go- some scrawny guy with fluffed hair, some mousy girl with doe eyes- and he shot them all the same brief glance before the doors shut and he sunk into the lower floors. After a brisk walk to his car, he got in and drove out of the parking lot, gritting his teeth through the remainder of his drive.

Soon he arrived home and let himself in the front door. He barely got the front door shut before he yanked off his glasses and tossed him on the dining room table, then gave his jacket similar treatment before turning around.

He almost walked directly into the wooden puppet-themed animatronic who had popped up behind him. Taking a step back, he looked down at the large, glassy, blue eyes staring up at him.

"You look like a nerd," Balloon Boy cackled in his double-toned voice. Just as obnoxious as ever.

"I feel like a chump," Mike countered. He then proceeded to curtly step around him and head for the hallway.

"That's not the word you wanted to say," Max chimed in from in front of the television.

"You better believe it's not!" Mike called back as he strode past the couch, down the hall, and straight into the bathroom.

All of that tension was starting to bubble over, waiting until now to remind him how frustrated he really was. Which was inopportune timing as he was about to have to get a pair of itchy, irritating, colored contacts out of his eyes. Jeremy showed him how with his own, but he definitely wasn't working with enough patience right now.

Mike leaned close to the mirror and started poking at his eye when he saw Marionette slide into the doorway. He must've not expected to be spotted so quickly as in a flicker he got an awkwardly tilted smile.

"How did it go?" he cautiously asked. He could already tell from the motions alone that it hadn't gone well. Mike gritted his teeth a little.

"Great. Just great. I had some pencil pusher tell ME how unqualified I was to work with animatronics. Just because I don't have a degree. Like college is going to prepare you for working in a cesspool like Freddy's. Flaming trash pit of the industry and he's got the nerve to go off on me like I'M wasting HIS time," Mike borderline rambled. Only keeping his cool somewhat to keep him from getting overheard. He hissed as he tried to get a contact out. "So yeah, it went swell."

"Oh… I'm so sorry, Mike," Marionette apologized. He came up behind him and rested his hands on his shoulders, causing Mike to exhale and deflate a little. "You know that's not true, right? You've worked on plenty of animatronics, myself included, and your history at Freddy's far surpasses any of theirs. You would've gotten a job in a heartbeat if they knew about your real qualifications."

"Maybe," Mike muttered, sounding unconvinced. After a long moment of leaning on the sink, he sighed and admitted, "But he was right. I don't know what I'm doing."

"You don't know the technical side, but that's alright. That's something you can learn!" the puppet assured. He squeezed his shoulders and leaned in to peek at him through the mirror. "What you can't teach is compassion- and a confident touch. I'm sure many a technician would be too afraid to work on a real animatronic. You've done it knowing what we can do."

He knew Marionette wasn't just trying to placate him. Being an animatronic himself, he understood the value in a gentle hand. After all he had gone through it probably meant more to him than the actual technical finesse. Especially when he was one of the only animatronics Mike knew of that could heal himself. He did appreciate it and the assurances helped, but it didn't mean much when it came to the world outside their lives and business.

"I know, I know… but I'm supposed to be an owner. I don't want to be like Wight, buying into a business when I don't know what I'm doing. We know that's not true, but it's going to look that way to anyone else who sees me on the lease to Foxy's and finds out that I'm technically not qualified to do my job…" Mike said. He took a deep breath. "But you're right. It's nothing I can't learn. It's just a piece of paper, right?"

"That's right," Marionette assured. His voice quieting and his smile growing more sympathetic at his words.

Mike looked down into the sink for a second. Eyes still itchy and vision a little blurry, thinking about where he was supposed to go from here when he was suddenly hit by an idea. Or perhaps just the sudden impulse to do something.

"…What do you think if I went back to school? I already put one year into it. If they can find those credits and I can pull enough together for the tuition, maybe I could get that piece of paper. Maybe I could get qualified," Mike suggested, looking back up to the mirror to see Marionette's reaction.

The Puppet looked surprised for a moment, but then his face broke into a more delighted smile than Mike had seen in days. One unexpected with how upset he had been earlier.

"I think that's a great idea! Why not? If anyone could learn the material, it would be you. You've practically gotten a head start!" Marionette said. There was an excited ring through his voice, so it was audibly clear he was in favor of the idea.

"Maybe I've gotten shocked enough times that I'm building up a tolerance," Mike said. A little smile dared to return. "The hardest part's going to be working up the tuition. College isn't cheap."

"You can't get a scholarship?" Marionette asked, tilting his head.

Mike almost scoffed. "I think it's a little too late for that. Maybe I can work something out though. I could talk with the school, see if they would let me work out some sort of payment plan. Maybe use my name on that business to show that I'm good for the money and grease them up a little."

"You could dip into the savings. As much as I enjoy the comfort of a nest egg, this is something important," the puppet suggested thoughtfully. "We're nowhere near expanding the pizzeria again anyway. Why not put our share to a good cause?"

"What about the next hospital visit?"

"That's not funny," Marionette scolded. "…How dare you imply that I can't stitch you up myself. I'll have you know I'm very good with a needle."

"What about the feelgood juice?" Mike cheekily countered.

"There's a can of expired pineapple in the pantry. We will make it work."

Mike chuckled and turned to pull him into an embrace. He was feeling better. Better than he had in a while actually because this was a hungry drive that he was going to be able to feed. It wouldn't fix the Pizzaplex situation, but he decided to not think about that for the moment- if they got stuck climbing in through Foxy's vent then he could live with that. He couldn't live with all of Freddy's looking down their noses at him, even if he knew it was ridiculous.

"Doesn't really help us get into Freddy's, unless- God forbid- the place is still open in four years," Mike pointed out.

"Don't worry about that right now. We'll find another way into Freddy's… Now then would you go to Charlie's school? I think that's the closest one to us, but I really have no idea," Marionette asked. Mike thought about it for a second.

"Seems like a safe bet… Hold on, let me go check," he said. He beckoned the puppet to follow as he headed back out of the bathroom. "Hey, Charlie-?" he started to call only to turn and find her standing in the hall outside of bedroom's door with Balloon Boy and Jeremy. Either they had heard the commotion, or the little wooden boy tattled on him. Either of which was possible.

"Oh, hey. I know this is going to be sudden, but theoretically what would you think about me going to your college to finish my degree?" Mike asked. It took Charlie's eyes widening for him to realize that she might not be so comfortable with this plan. "But I haven't looked around yet. I could just as easily go somewhere else," he quickly added.

"No! I think that's great!" Charlie exclaimed. Her features brightened up just as much as Marionette's had, which was the last reaction either of them expected. "Where'd this come from all of a sudden?"

"I got snubbed by Freddy's," Mike muttered.

"Ouch," Jeremy sympathized. Balloon Boy gave an ill-timed giggle.

"Well, forget that. Their loss," Charlie quickly brushed off. "But this is perfect! I could even help you study! In-In fact, if you're alright with it, we could study together. I… I can't go back, obviously, and I'm never going to be able to get my degree, but that's fine if I can still get the knowledge. We could learn together; it'll be like us taking the class together. What do you think?"

"Sounds good to me. And I'm not just saying that because I know I'm going to be struggling with the technical terms," Mike agreed, a playful smile on his lips. "Just give me a second and we'll work out the details." He then turned his attention to Jeremy and pointed at his eye, "I can't get them out."

"I'm on it. You go wait in the bathroom, I'll get my eye wash," Jeremy said. The two separated, leaving the two puppets in the hallway.

Marionette chimed happily as Mike passed by and returned him a smile. He had been especially concerned for and the relieved by Charlie's reaction and thrilled to see the two so excited about something they could do together. He looked back to Charlie to see her rubbing the back of her neck, now with a slightly more nervous sort of smile.

"You don't think it's weird that I just inserted myself into that, do you?" she asked.

"I don't and you didn't. If anything, I think Mike's relieved to be getting a little help. We know plenty of technicians, but few who've cracked open the books in the last few years," he reminded. She agreed with a nod and watched as Jeremy came back down the hallway. Stepping back out of his way and under Marionette's outstretched arm. He chimed and pulled her into a hug.

Charlie hadn't expected him to get anywhere near this happy after the bad news their received earlier, so it was a relief. It validated her own excitement at the prospect. It wouldn't be returning to college, but it was the next best thing.

Later, Fritz came over to discuss this newfound plan of Mike's. He came alone since Natalie was getting in a nap so she could make it through the coming night, and they all settled into the living room to plan.

"There's a few different directions you can go in when it comes to degrees in robotics. Frankly, I don't think a blanket robotics degree is such a good idea. If I was telling you what to go for, I'd suggest mechanical or electrical engineering. It's not specific to animatronics or robotics, but I think they'd pay off more in the long run. And you could still take a robotics class alongside it."

"What's the difference?" Charlie was sitting on the couch beside Fritz almost transfixed. When she had enrolled, she hadn't really gotten much help aiming what direction she wanted to go in with her degree. Not that she had gotten that far.

"It's sort of hard to explain. They're distinctly different, but they also overlap in a lot of ways. I'd say on the whole, electrical engineering aims more towards the electrical aspect than mechanical does, even though mechanical does cover some of it," he tried to explain. "But my thought is that going for a degree with a wider scope then just animatronics gives you better tools to work with. That's just me though." He raised his hands as though anyone was questioning it.

"Makes sense. I'm thinking mechanical," Mike offered. He was sitting in the armchair, leaned back against Marionette who was laying across it behind him, legs dangling over the armrest. He nodded in agreement when Mike looked at him. Mike then turned back to Fritz and asked, "So, you think it's a good idea?"

"Sure! I don't see any reason why not. Got for it." Fritz seemed so nonchalant about the whole thing, which was better than Mike was expecting. "Why? What's that look?"

"Eh, I'm just thinking about the money side of it. Don't worry about it," Mike brushed off.

"You know, you could take out a loan. Remember I took one out to open Foxy's and we got that paid off pretty fast," Fritz suggested.

"After living with hospital bills hanging over my head for half my life, I think I'd rather not throw myself back into debt," Mike quickly shot down. "We have some money saved; I'm just thinking it's not going to be enough."

"But he did have a scholarship," Jeremy piped in from the other side of Fritz, nudging him with his elbow. "Think he can do something with that?"

"I don't know. I don't think scholarships roll over," Fritz said thoughtfully. "If they do, it has to have been too long to use it… I don't know, you're going to have to ask them when you're in there."

"I'm pretty sure that bridge has been crossed and burned by now," Mike again shot down.

Jeremy hummed and thought about it before looking like he had an idea. "You know…You could tell them about how you saved all those kids," he slowly suggested. "This IS Charlie's old school, right? Maybe that would be worth something."

"I'm giving you full permission to namedrop me if it helps you get in," Charlie chimed in. "You've already got enough going against you being late for enrollment. Use what you've got."

"We'll see," Mike said noncommittally. He wasn't too concerned about it. The way he saw it, he couldn't be rejected if he was willing to pay their prices. It wasn't going to be like Freddy's where they would judge and reject him- they might do the one, but they wanted his money too badly to do the other.

He sighed inwardly and leaned back again, to which Marionette quickly snared around him and pulled him in like a plush toy. It had been a hard day for them both, it was easy to forget that just earlier today they had been told such awful news. Mike patted Marionette's hand and let himself be clung to as he listened to the conversation still going on between Charlie, Fritz, and occasionally Jeremy.

This felt like the right choice. It felt a lot better than selling himself to Freddy's, then getting look down on by people as unqualified as he was. This was what he wanted to do, to be better than Freddy's.

Hopefully he wouldn't change his mind by morning.

As a matter of fact, he didn't.

Mike's mind was still made up. He allowed himself a few minutes to wake up with coffee before he looked up the number in the St. George phone book and made the call. After a few minutes of being moved around, he was directed to someone in the office of admissions and began to lay out what he was there for.

The conversation didn't last very long and at first didn't seem like it was going everywhere. The semester already started, something the woman on the phone had reiterated a few times over the call, but she was willing to make an appointment to speak with someone else- a Mrs. Bailey, whose role and the school wasn't outright given as far as he knew- for some time in the future. This wasn't great but this was about what he expected.

She asked for his name to make the appointment, which he gave her, and then she hesitated for a moment. She waited a few seconds, long enough that he thought she shrugged it off, but then she asked about it.

"That name sounds so familiar. Are you a former student?"

He knew exactly why his name was spoken around campus and instantly pounced on it.

"No, you probably heard of me from the news. I was that guy who found the kidnapped kids in Magictime Theater."

Suddenly the woman had to check something about the appointment, sounding distinctly hesitant as she got off, and he waited on hold listening to music not quite fitting the mood of the call. Tapping his pen on the table, he waited to see if the gamble paid off without getting his hopes up. After a few minutes she returned.

How peculiar. Earlier they were talking about an appointment sometime in the unknown future. Suddenly an appointment opened with Mrs. Bailey that afternoon. He made a mental note to thank Charlie when she got up.

That's how he ended up sitting in an office at St. George University when he usually would be at work. Taking a glance at the clock, he estimated that Marionette was probably tending to the first birthday party scheduled for the day. He almost hated missing it, but he was going to hate missing it a lot more if this didn't end up working out.

"Mr. Schmidt? Mrs. Bailey's ready for you. You can head on in," an older lady with a gentle tone and coarse voice said. Mike gave her a nod as he stood and headed past her desk into yet another office.

This office reminded him a little too much of a traditional principal's office. Not that he spent much time in the principal's office in his schoolyears, but he vaguely remembered seeing it at some point, and this room gave him the same feel. Down to the shelves of knick-knacks and the framed pictures of events that had clearly happened at the university. It gave off a lukewarm feeling of pride or tried to give the illusion of it.

Mrs. Bailey was a remarkable woman. That is, if not for her puffy, cotton candy textured perm and lighter skin tone, she would've been the spitting image of his mother. That threw Mike off a little, but he recovered quick enough to take and shake her hand when she offered it.

"Hi, it is so nice to meet you, Mr. Schmidt. I'm the admissions counselor, Mrs. Bailey, but please call me Brenda," she greeted. Before he could pull his hand back after the shake, she trapped it under her other in a gentle hold. "Let me start by thanking you from the bottom of my heart. I've heard about what you did for those children. If you hadn't been there… Well, I wouldn't want to think of what could've happened."

"It was nothing," Mike denied. Though then second-guessed this and quickly added, "I mean there's no need to thank me. I was just in the right place at the right time. Anyone would've done it."

"But you were there and that's what matters," she said, patting his hand. She finally released it though and gestured to one of the chairs opposite of her desk. "Please have a seat." He did, though by now he was feeling a little uncomfortable.

"Keep it together. This isn't the first time you've been asked about what went down and this time you're not doing it on live television. Even if you botch it, you're not incriminating yourself," Mike thought as he sat down. As though this wasn't bad enough, the chair was hard and uncomfortable, with him having to sit sideways to get any amount of comfort. "I didn't really think anyone was going to still remember that. Being over a year ago, people have short memories."

"Not here we don't. To have one of our brightest students killed in such a horrible manner- it's a tragedy. It will be years before we can move on," Brenda said sympathetically.

While Mike agreed with everything she said, he was under the impression that she probably didn't know anything about Charlie. He couldn't fault her for it though and had to give her credit for at least trying to acknowledge her.

"I know. It feels like it was ages ago and just yesterday at the same time… Did you know her before it happened?"

"I didn't know Charlie myself, but her teachers spoke nothing but pleasantries about her. They said she was a sweet girl, an excellent student. It's just such a tragedy to lose such a young life."

"It is…" Mike agreed. "She was… very special to me too."

"You knew her beforehand?"

"Yes, she's like- she was like a sister to me. We even lived together for a while," he explained. "We were both missing that family connection, so we made our own."

He knew he was giving events out of order, but he didn't think it mattered in this case. He might've not known Charlie well then, but now he felt like he knew her better than any teacher or student could've ever known her.

"She's part of the reason I'm here," he said. "I know that I'm late to enroll, but I've been putting my life on hold, and I can't keep waiting for things to change. We were in the same field so and I want to follow in her footsteps and get my degree. Almost like I'm… finishing it for her." His voice grew softer, but it wasn't an act. "She loved college and she loved learning… I'm doing it for me, but I want to do it for her, if that makes any sense."

It wasn't until right now that Mike realized he meant what he said. Charlie might've not been the initial reason he wanted to get his degree, but he did want to do this for her just as much as himself. He wanted to study with her, to help her learn the things that she missed out on because of what happened. He wanted this to be something more than a sudden decision made because Freddy's forced his hand. He wanted this to mean something more.

Brenda leaned forward on her desk, her face soft with sympathy and concern. Maybe it was because of the resemblance, but he could only assume that she was a mother. That was the feeling her expression gave.

"We can work something out," she promised him. He smiled a little bit, even if he felt weird doing so. With those sincere words, she slid back into her chair and opened a lap top computer on her desk. He had barely noticed it there and assumed it must've cost a fortune- probably belonging to the school and not her personal computer. "Now you said over the phone that you were enrolled previously?"

"Not with this university. I was enrolled in Utah State for a little over a year before I had to leave due to, uh, health issues. I was in a bike wreck, it's a long story. I don't know if my credits from there would move over to here."

"There is a chance they can be, but we would have to check which credits and if the material has changed. Do you have your college transcripts?"

"…Not on hand, but I can get them."

"It's fine, we can request them ourselves. Don't be too disheartened if some of the credits can't be used. It may take a little more time, but when it comes to your education, every extra hour is an hour well spent."

A cynical thought passed that it would benefit the school if he took longer, but it was hard to linger on it. Mike was beginning to feel strange as they continued working out the details. Not a foreboding strange, which was atypical since he usually found himself on constant guard anyway, but something harder to put his finger on.

Whether it was because of the woman's sweet demeanor or the fact that he was trying to enroll in school, and had very little say in how this process was happening, he felt young. He felt like someone just stepping into the world instead of someone who had been fighting against it for years now. Younger than he was supposed to be, college aged.

Except that was the catch. Mike was only just out of traditional college age. He wasn't a kid anymore, but he was still young. Pretty much the youngest person in his human friend group. Sometimes he forgot that when it came to numbers, he wasn't nearly as old as he felt. It was a weird sort of feeling to have. Night and day to how he felt at the Freddy's interview.

He wondered what his mother would think about him trying college again. He had a hunch she would be thrilled, but he wasn't able to dwell on it long.

"Now this is just a round estimate, but this would be tuition cost for a year, and this is the cost per semester. It doesn't count any student assistance that you may qualify for, though with your age and previous enrollment, it may not be…"

At that point Mike stopped listening because he saw said number and time briefly stopped. It was about what he expected, which meant that it was a hefty sum that only inflated more as he did some quick math in his head. She was still droning on, and he gave little half answers, but he wasn't thinking beyond that number and the sinking realization that maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He could maybe make it, but he wondered if it was worth it.

"Have you seen the memorial?"

That comment was out of the loop enough to snap Mike out of his half-listening and to attention. "There's a memorial?" he asked.

"Yes, for Charlie. We had a plaque mounted outside of the library, though please, don't feel pressured to see it. I know it can be painful to reopen old wounds."

It did definitely feel uncomfortable, but he hid it as he gave a simple, "I might just go do that…"

But he didn't. At least, he didn't right then. Not when he eventually got out of the office, everything still up in the air but now with the ball rolling in a direction. Instead, he headed to Foxy's and finished up the workday like any other one.

It wasn't until late that night when he decided to see the memorial, waiting until the darkest hours so he didn't have to go alone. He kept a careful eye out as he pulled up to the front of the university's library. The place was deserted.

He got out of the car and headed up to the plaque first, gave it a quick once-over, and then looked across the parking lot area to make sure nobody was out to see them. As he did, the passenger's side door opened, and Charlie slipped out. She was wearing her usual jacket and a pair of Mike's jeans tightened impossibly with a belt. It wasn't much of a disguise, but it would work well enough at a distance.

She hastily jogged up beside Mike and looked up at the copper-colored plaque mounted beside the doors. It read:

In Loving Memory of:
Charlotte Emily "Charlie" Johnson.
An angel on Earth taken home too soon.

Even though she was expecting it, seeing her own name on the memorial filled her with an uncomfortably squirmy feeling. She didn't exactly like seeing it, but that wasn't why she decided to come up and see it anyway. It was more just to witness it. It was for her after all, it only seemed fair that she come take a look at it.

"How's it feel to be immortalized on the most boring building on campus?" Mike playfully asked. He gave her a little nudge and a sly smile, trying to break the awkward tension threatening the moment. She rolled her eyes.

"It's really great. Sure," she said sarcastically. Her hands moving to her hips. "And what do you mean boring? Students are coming in and out all day just to use the computers. This is a real hot-spot."

"Just as long as you come before it closes," he quipped. He then looked back at the memorial. "All jokes aside, I think it's perfect in your case. You spent a lot of time here. You'll be remembered as someone who worked hard and liked to read."

"That's true. I'd rather here than stuck near the pools," Charlie agreed. Though then she shot him a suspicious side-glance. "…Or were you saying I'm boring?"

"Bookish, not boring. The library's not boring because it's full of books. It's boring because of the iron-grip of oppression they have over their students," Mike explained. This was sudden enough to get a snicker out of Charlie.

Which perked Mike up for a moment until he looked back at the library again and his face began to fall. It didn't take her long to notice that solemn look on his face, largely because it seemed so out of place.

"What's wrong? I thought you said they were working on getting you in," she gently pried.

"They are… I'm just wondering now if that's what I really want," Mike admitted. "You and I and everyone else all know the only reason I'm going for this is because I got rejected at Freddy's. What if that's really all this is? That I just convinced myself I wanted this? I know I don't want extra paperwork, or extra hours away from the house. Think of all the time I'll be wasting."

"It won't be a waste! You'll be learning skills you'll be using the rest of your life!... Don't give me that look. It's not like you're going in to study French history and advanced algebra. You're going in to get a degree that's going to help you work on animatronics. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but chances are this whole Foxy's deal is a lifelong commitment, and even if it isn't Mari's not going anywhere."

"Yeah, you've got a point," Mike agreed. He sighed through tight lips. "Guess I just started second-guessing the whole thing once I saw the price of entry. Including all the time I'll have to commit to it." Charlie gave a knowing little hum and he looked to her and arched a brow. "What?"

"I think… and I could be wrong, but I think maybe you want something you can commit to," she quietly suggested. Then daring to look at him as she added, "Life doesn't have to be just Foxy's and home. Just like college doesn't have to be back-to-back classes all day, seven days a week."

He had to admit that she had a point. If him eagerly throwing himself at Freddy's, and whatever knock-off was floating around, was any indication, there was a spot in his life he could fill. Though that wasn't to say that he threw himself at those jobs because of boredom, or to suggest that he was bored with his otherwise great life. Things got rough, but on the whole, he was happy with what he had.

…But maybe he could use a little more.

"What about you?" he asked.

"What about me?"

"Do you need something more than Foxy's and home?"

Charlie seemed taken aback by the question. "Me?...Maybe, but this isn't about me."

"Why not? I used the hell out of your name to get in," he quipped. This got a small smile out of her.

"This is the sort of thing you have to do for you, you know? That's the reason I enrolled. Aunt Jen hated that I was sticking this close to Hurricane, so for a while I didn't tell her, and when I did, I played up that it was so I could go to college with my friends- which was Jessica." The smile grew more playful, "But glad to be a help."

He got his own subdued smile. There went his subconscious plan to believe he was doing it for her to justify doing it for himself, though she did make a lot of sense, and she was convincing him a lot more now than the chat in the living room had. Maybe it was worth gambling with a little money if it meant a better grasp of what he wanted to do. Forget being a night guard, he could promote himself from the inside.

"Okay, you convinced me. Once they get their act together and call me back, I'll sign up, but you're going to have to keep your end of the bargain and make sure I don't fail," he announce, sending her that coy glint.

She was more than happy to agree to these terms. "Sounds good."

The quiet moment was interrupted by delight trills coming from the car.

"I'm so proud of you both!" Marionette called, head sticking out the driver's side window. He then pulled out and bent his arm, clasping Mike's camera tightly in his fingers. "Turn around and give me a smile~!"

Mike snorted at this, murmuring an amused, "Smile with the plaque. Yeah, okay," as he turned around. He then quickly threw an arm around Charlie's shoulders and shot a cheesy grin which was promptly caught by a snap of the camera.

Well, if he couldn't say he was doing it for Charlie, he could always falls back on Marionette.

Natalie walked into the lobby and upon seeing what was waiting her knew exactly what corners Fazbear Entertainment was willing to cut.

"So, good news and better news. Good news: your request for a partner was accepted and, uh… Better news: you get to try out some brand-new tech that we weren't planning on having up until opening," Stanley introduced. From his tone it was clear that even he knew this wasn't what she wanted. Chaz didn't even try to make any excuses for it.

Natalie had said she needed another pair of eyes watching the Pizzaplex. They gave her a Staff Bot with a flashlight wearing a security hat.

This was the lengths they were willing to go to not hire another person. She couldn't imagine that Mike's disguise would've been suspicious enough to warrant this. That wasn't to say the bot wasn't… cute, in a way, but it didn't look effective.

"Is this just that mop bot that was out here last night?" she asked flatly.

"Nope. To our credit, this baby's its own model," Chaz said. He patted the bot's back like patting the hood of a car and the bot responded by fidgeting around a little. "So normally these guys do their own rounds and will alert you if they spot anything, but since we haven't had a chance to finish pathfinding on any of them, he's just going to follow you around and keep an eye out."

"And how exactly does that help me?" Natalie asked, arching a brow challengingly.

"It gives you an extra set of eyes?" Stanley offered. This got a look from both others. "…Okay, it doesn't help, but it's kind of like you're not alone. Maybe, uh, helps look like you have backup?"

"There you go! Looks a lot more intimidating than it is. Anyone's going to think twice if they see you running around with this," Chaz said. From the cheesy smile paired with it, he wasn't even trying to be convincing. Natalie wasn't amused.

"Oh wow, my very own robot arm candy. I've always wanted one," she said sardonically. The technicians seemed amused and apologetic respectively, but obviously didn't have anything more that they could do. They started to take their leave.

Natalie suddenly considered asking one of them about the rabbit woman, but as soon as the urge came it died on her tongue. She couldn't risk it; she couldn't trust anyone in this situation, and she trusted the humans less than the animatronics.

Or she did until she saw the rabbit.

They gave their normal spiel- "Take care", "Be careful driving home", "Don't leave any food out"- before heading out through the front door. Now Natalie was left alone once more. Or semi-alone, as she turned around to come face-to-face with that security bot once more. It wasn't that she didn't like the Staff Bots, but they didn't exactly make her feel safe. Especially not one that was staring this intensely with unfocused eyes.

She withheld a sigh and gave a simple, "Come on, buddy." It followed her right into the lost and found.

She had a feeling it was going to be another long night.