Mable: Thank you for such a wonderful response to the first chapter! 8D I'm so, so glad to hear that so many people are coming back for this new journey! Thank you, thank you, and Enjoy!
Going Home in a Box
Chapter Two
It had been ages since he had been in this office. He had been with a bad crowd in high school, so he was usually swept up into their issues whenever one of them acted out. Sometimes he was even brought in for questioning, which only made the school feel more like a prison. Or that's what he thought at the time. It wasn't until he actually went to jail that he realized how different it was when you didn't get to go home at the end of the day.
It was a relief to be an adult who wasn't sitting here waiting to see the principle, but not too much of one. One of his girls must've acted up, probably Forget-Me-Not. Hopefully they went easy on her; they had to understand that an animatronic wouldn't act like a normal teenager. He really hoped they didn't use this as an excuse to expel her. They let a Chica go here, he saw her out in the hallway.
It was then that he spotted something that caught his eye and walked to the other side of the room. There were office supplies lined up on the same desk just like he remembered, down to the same guillotine paper cutter sitting on a file cabinet at the end. He had always thought it looked so gnarly, imagining someone getting their fingers caught in it and the insanity that would've followed an accident like that. Gruesome, bloody, maybe they would've closed the school.
He pressed his cheek against the cold wood and stared at the wall. The warm sun was shining through the window just like he remembered it. He wasn't sure what he was doing here, but he went along with the motions as he slid forward until the cold metal started to brush over his cheek. His heart suddenly jolted as he realized the position he was in, but he didn't stop his motions.
He closed his eyes tightly as he lowered the blade and heard it cutting into the skin along the side of the face. Warm liquid poured into his eyes as he slowly brought the guillotine through skin and cartilage. All while a mouth pressed up on the back of his neck, dragging its filthy teeth through his hair as it panted on his skin. It smelled like rotten meat. It whispered in his own voice:
"I want to carve off your face and wear it as my mask."
Jeremy woke up choking on his own saliva. He inhaled a mouthful of it and lurched upright as he coughed and wheezed, clearing it from his burning throat and lungs. He only barely acknowledged the little bodies falling off his shoulders and into his lap and beside him on the bed, only really noticing them when he heard their fussy noises.
"Sorry! Sorry, it's okay. It's okay," he managed to get out. He coughed again and felt around until one latched onto his arm. He recognized that needy squeeze as being Rose's. "We're okay."
"Daddy?" He winced as he heard the voice from the dresser. It was one of the Bidybabs, but he couldn't tell which one. "What happened? What was it?"
"It's nothing, girls. I just- Daddy just inhaled his spit and threw his tiny dancers all over the place," he explained. Not only did they buy it, but he heard one of the Bidybabs giggle.
He hastily sat up on the bed and reached around in the pitch dark to make sure all of his dolls were accounted for. Two Minireenas, a third by his pillow, a fourth at the foot of the bed with Plushtrap; everyone was accounted for. He carefully pulled the blankets off himself, making sure not to cover up the dolls he just dropped, and went to stand only for his foot meet something wooden and rounded before reaching the floor. He knew who it was and recoiled.
"Sorry, BB! I didn't know I knocked you off. Here," Jeremy offered. He leaned down and started trying to pull him up, but the short animatronic was limp.
"I was already down here. Return me to the rug, Father," Balloon Boy said with a recorded laugh and finality. Jeremy got the message and slowly lowering him back onto the rug, deciding not to question it. Balloon Boy then rolled a little towards the bed so Jeremy could step over him and get up.
"I'll be right back, guys. I promise. Just two seconds." He knew he must've sounded odd with how he was rushing, but he had to get out of the darkness and to a mirror. He could feel his sleep shirt pulling at his throat and a weight on his back and realized he had picked up a hanger-on but decided to ignore it and make his way to the bathroom.
He only realized he forgot his glasses once he was in the bathroom and noticed the blurriness in his vision. Not enough to make him go back though and instead he leaned over the sink until his reflection in the mirror was clear, studying his startled features as though he expected to suddenly see the gore appear, but none did. His skin was smooth, untouched, unscared, not even the smallest scratch or drop of blood.
Even though he knew he wasn't going to see anything, he still felt a wave of relief. He ran his hands over his face before sighing and reaching back to pull the Minireena off of his back. It turned out to be Forget-Me-Not and he held her reassuringly for a few seconds, kissing the top of her head- she responded with an 'Ah!' noise- and then set her down beside the bathroom door, giving her a small nudge.
"Back to bed. I'll be there in a minute," he assured. She ran out and he shut the door behind her.
Jeremy took a few minutes to use the restroom and splash some water over his face. Even though the house was cool, it felt like something that needed doing, and it helped snap him out of his unease. He then took a deep breath and opened the door to step out into the hallway.
Only to find Mike standing outside. Jeremy barely held himself from yelping but apparently his face must've displayed his surprise.
"Sorry. I just felt like sulking around in the dark," Mike said groggily. His voice was rough, and eyes were glazed over from sleep. "Thought you'd get a kick out of my Foxy impression."
"Maybe if I got a little warning," Jeremy said, recovering as quickly as he could with his frayed nerves. Though he then got an uneasy feeling as he realized that Mike was here, awake, in the middle of the night. "…You didn't hear me, right?"
"No, I heard the doll scratching at my door. Would've slept through it too if Mari didn't start poking me in the back," Mike answered. Apparently, he wasn't awake enough to filter his words because that was a little more information than he usually gave out. He rubbed a hand up his face and back through his hair. "You want to talk about it?"
It was no surprise that Mike already knew. This wasn't Jeremy's first nightmare; it was just the first one in a while. Jeremy could feel the heat growing in his recently cooled face.
"Uh… Yeah, no thanks. I'm good just pretending it didn't happen," Jeremy said. It was supposed to be a joke, but it came out sounding a lot more awkward and pitiful than he intended. "I think I'm just going to go back to bed."
"That works for me," Mike agreed. As they made their way back down the hall towards Foxy's room, now Jeremy's room, he put a hand on the blonde's back like he was guiding him. It felt very older brotherly, which was a little strange considering that he was the younger of the two. It was a little embarrassing, but not enough to even consider pushing him away.
Jeremy gave a quick, "Good night," as he headed back into the bedroom and was instantly swarmed by a waiting group of dolls. Mike quietly shut the door behind him, not wanting to risk letting them out.
Mike started heading back towards the master bedroom, not noticing the dark figure peeking around the corner at the end of the hall before disappearing. He entered the room to find Marionette sitting cross-legged on the bed waiting for him.
"He's fine," Mike said. He knew the puppet was going to worry anyways so he didn't try to convince him further. Besides, he was worried himself, but not enough to stay awake. The nightmares finally die down and here comes Freddy to bring them back. He was surprised he didn't wake up in a cold sweat from visions of mechanical monstrosities left homeless after the eventual closure of Foxy's.
Marionette hummed in understanding as he watched Mike get back into back, still watching him as the lamp was turned off. He almost considered going out to Jeremy's room. Mike must've realized this as he reached out and pulled him in before he could do so, pulling him back to the bed.
It could wait until tomorrow.
Which it did. Jeremy didn't wake again until thirty minutes after he would've usually gotten up. He opened his eyes to find dull light pouring through the curtain-covered, snow caked windows. Daisy was curled up in the crook of his arm, but it didn't take him long to see that the others were all gone. This wasn't abnormal; they usually got up early to seek out distractions.
But not Daisy. As he sat up, he moved her to cradle her in his arm as he rubbed his eyes and reached for his glasses with the other. Daisy gave a happy giggle and hugged onto his arm; a typical 'good morning'.
"Good morning, Daisy," he said in the most upbeat tone he could manage. He then kissed the top of her head, getting another giggle, and got out of bed.
He couldn't let last night get to him. He couldn't let Freddy's get to him. This was a trying time, and he was the only one who could be the adult for these little guys, so he had to push past this. Not fall back into the same slump he fell into after the incident a few months ago.
He came out to find the living room surprisingly lowkey compared to usual. No frantic rushing to greet and get his attention, so he guessed Marionette had probably told them not to do so. Said puppet was currently in the kitchen opening a box of frozen waffles and taking out the rubber banded bag inside. He greeted Jeremy with a tilt of his head.
"Good morning!" he chimed. "Two or three?"
"Two's fine, thanks," Jeremy said with a smile. Marionette making breakfast wasn't too unusual though he didn't do it every morning. Typically, it was something easy to make and not too messy, but the lack of a waffle press meant frozen was the best they could do on this front. He could work with it.
Though Jeremy wasn't oblivious. He knew that the breakfast was probably because of last night, but he decided to not bring it up. He noticed that Marionette didn't ask about it either. He sat down at the table and set Daisy on the edge.
"You can go play if you want," he offered. She shook her head and swung her legs, daintily setting her hands in her lap. She wanted to stay with him, and he was fine with that.
It took a few minutes for Marionette to finish the waffles and when he did, Jeremy got full confirmation that he was aware of what happened last night. Because the waffles were decked out with an array of toppings. Butter was smeared around the top and bathed in syrup, then topped with a handful of blueberries that were topped with chocolate sprinkles. White icing was also oozing out from between the two waffles. This amount of overkill was saved for cheering up.
"You really overdid it, Mari. In a good way, I mean. It looks good! Thank you," Jeremy got out with a smile. Marionette returned it eagerly with a chime and returned to the kitchen. Probably to make something for Mike.
The question of where Mike went was put off for his first bite of the waffles. They were good, if just a little too sweet- not that he was going to complain.
All of a sudden, the front door swung open and Jeremy bit down so hard on his fork that it dug into the roof of his mouth. He and the puppet both looked back to see none other than Mike shutting the door hurriedly behind him, puffing and gasping. He gave a hissing inhale through his teeth and rapidly rubbed his arms, which were only covered in a long sleeve grey shirt.
Marionette narrowed his eyes and put his hands on his hips. "I told you to take a jacket," he said with a light scolding tone.
"Can't run in a jacket," Mike said stiffly. He took another deep breath and held it a moment, then exhaled. "I'm okay. The brisk was good."
"The frostbite won't be," Marionette disagreed as he turned back to the kitchen counter. Mike sat down at the table across from Jeremy and rubbed his hands together vigorously to try and get warmth back into them.
"Probably should've worn gloves though," he admitted under his breath. Then he turned his attention across to the blond. "How're you doing, Jere?"
"A lot better than last night… But since we're talking about last night, I was thinking and the dream must've just been from the shock of learning about Freddy's. Just delayed a couple of days. I've really haven't had a nightmare in weeks- a month or two, and it wasn't about Freddy's. It was about… I don't know. Zombies or something," Jeremy rambled. Mike saw right through what he was trying to do but decided to let it slide.
"Could be bad timing, but I wouldn't blame you if it was. I'm sure there's dozens of kids out there who had nightmares after visiting Freddy's," Mike said with a shrug.
"Yes, and we all live with you," Max called in from the living room. Announcing rather blatantly that he was listening in on the conversation. Mike's mouth pulled into a smirk and Max wobbled around the edge of the couch, to which Mike had to cover his face to smother a guffaw. The magician noticed and didn't seem to care. "What was the dream this time?"
"Oh, it umm… Ugh… You don't want to know. It was just bad," Jeremy deflected. He focused on cutting up his waffles into tiny pieces, his nerves beginning to dispel his appetite.
"You're only making me more curious, and you really don't want us to be talking about this when Beeb's around," Max said matter-of-factly as he stopped beside him. "Just because I'm small doesn't mean I can't handle your Red Man dreams."
"It wasn't about him," Jeremy quickly denied. He left off the 'this time', but Max knew it was there.
"Don't push him. You know we can't control our dreams, the last thing anybody wants is to chat about them," Marionette swooped in and defended. He was carrying another prepared plate of waffles that he handed off.
"Besides, don't you see into dreams? You already know what he saw," Mike pointed out before turning to take his plate with a, "Thank you."
"You're very welcome," Marionette trilled. He circled his chair and sat in the other one, eagerly waiting to see him react to the food.
All the while Jeremy had a blank look as he realized with sinking horror that they were right. Max must've seen that. He knew all about what he had dreamed about.
"When I'm in the room. I wasn't in the room last night," Max quickly corrected. "That would've taken an amount of focus I can't spare when I'm channel surfing in the dregs of the morning. Nothing but soap operas and adult programming." Marionette looked at him with a start and Mike slowly raised a brow, but Jeremy didn't take the bait. "Look at me like that all you want. Chances are I'm older than both of you."
"…Now that's a scary thought," Mike remarked. He turned his focus down to his plate and started to eat.
"Was it about Gabe?" Max asked, eyes rolling up to Jeremy again. The blond gave an awkwardly dismissive sort of noise. "…Was it about us?"
"No, it was about me. Just me," Jeremy confessed. Knowing this probably raised more suspicions, he quickly added, "I got in an accident and there was a lot of blood. It was that kind of dream."
"Okay, but did it involve a knife?" Max pressed.
Jeremy gave him a slightly exasperated look and a believable, "No." Technically it didn't.
"Alright, I'll let you off the hook… Oh. That wasn't intentional, I swear."
"Sure, it wasn't," Mike muttered.
Jeremy decided to change the conversation. "I was supposed to check out some more apartments today, but I don't know. I feel like I should be with Foxy… Maybe I should put off the apartment search while this is all going on."
"You don't have to do that. This isn't that big of a deal, I promise you. It'll all blow over quicker than you think," Marionette assured with a smile. Jeremy glanced at Mike expecting something sarcastic or at least for him to give Marionette a funny look, but instead Mike just slowly looked away and turned back to his food. "…In fact, I was thinking of going down there myself and spending time with him. I feel badly for not trying harder yesterday…"
"He wasn't really feeling up to being comforted," Jeremy sympathized.
"No. I tried to talk with him before we left, and he shut me out. Just short of shutting the curtain on me."
"That would've required him to get up," Mike remarked. Quip or not, he seemed legitimately concerned. Then turned his attention to back to Jeremy and offered, "I could go with you if you want. Apartment hunting, not to the pizzeria. We could go together and play good cop bad cop until they bring the rent down."
"You don't have to do that. It's bad enough that I woke you up last night, I'm not going to turn around and then make you come with me to look at apartments."
"Every second I'm not sitting in this house thinking about that four-floor train wreck waiting-to-happen out on the highway is a gift from heaven. Trust me, you're doing me a favor," Mike dryly reassured. He then added much more confidently, "I'm also an expert at spotting water damage."
"Well, when you put it like that… Yeah, okay. If you're really looking for a way to get out."
"Trust me, I'm always looking for a way out," Mike said with a smirk. With that the conversation lulled and the morning continued as usual.
Work was relatively uneventful, but equally tense compared to the day before. Foxy was able to manage around the children better, but it was clear that he was still struggling, and as soon as the restaurant closed, he was sitting on his stage looking as despondent as ever. At least he wasn't hiding- was the only desperate attempt at positivity Jeremy and Marionette could take out of it.
But Foxy wasn't the only one acting weird, Mike noticed. Marionette was still working a little too hard and acting a little too wound-up compared to usual, Fritz looked like he hadn't slept the night before, with Natalie following him around trying to keep him from finding projects to work on, and Charlie, Carlton, and the rest of the staff just seemed a little tense. Almost like they were waiting for the shoe to drop.
Mike knew he wasn't feeling normal, but he liked to think that he exuded the same exhausted sarcasm that he usually did. It was hard not to think that every customer and every dollar was vitally important to Foxy's Pirate Cove survival, but he had to keep shaking that mindset or he was going to drive himself crazy.
The only one who seemed to be acting pretty typical was, surprisingly enough, Jeremy. He seemed a little awkward and worried about Foxy but considering the situation this was a pretty appropriate response. He seemed to be taking it better than even Mike was, regardless of the nightmare the night before.
The restaurant closed at the normal time, but instead of staying around to close up, the two left to check out the apartments a little earlier. Jeremy managed to make some calls in advance so even though they wouldn't be able to check all of the eligible apartments, they could see some. Marionette stayed with Foxy while Charlie rode with Fritz and Natalie to visit her grandfather before being taken home. Everything was going as planned.
Until they started to look at the apartments.
The first apartment was closer to work than even Mike and Marionette's house was. The trade-off being that it looked more like a motel than a typical apartment building. Might've been one before being formatted into apartments. They were showed inside the and found it was slightly bigger than it looked outside. Basically, two motel rooms that had been remodeled to look like one functional apartment, with one being turned into a living room and kitchen.
Mike assumed that he was going to have to be the backbone of the due, but surprisingly Jeremy was very capable of taking up that role himself. The apartment wasn't big enough, it was literally on top of the neighbors, and pretty much the entire front wall was windows. It simply wasn't going to work in his situation. Mike was impressed in how he laid down the law so eagerly and they moved to the next place.
The second apartment was almost day and night to the first. It was still rather small, but the layout was much more pleasing. It was a duplex comprised of two vertically styled apartments. Each apartment had a living room with a kitchen behind it, then a stairway leading from the corner of the living room up into the second floor, which was comprised of a bathroom and the bedroom. The wall between the apartment was much thicker and the windows were sparse.
The benefits of the apartment came from the location. It wasn't much farther from Foxy's, situated closer to the highway but not really bothered by the sound, but in a barer section of the city. Both apartments of the duplex were free- though the second duplex of apartments looked to be filled- and there was even a small, overgrown backyard that was entirely closed in by a tall, wooden fence. Maybe it could be used for something.
Except that Jeremy tore into this apartment just as readily as the first one. First it was, "I don't like that the bathroom's upstairs." That was fair. Then it was, "I don't think it's enough room." Which was somewhat plausible, though seemed to be kind of similar to the size of his old apartment, just not broken into so many rooms. Then, "What if someone moves in next door?" And then, "The paintjob in the bedroom isn't great. It's… Depressing. Almost as depressing as the showerhead."
It was at this point that Mike started to notice that Jeremy's complaints seemed out of character. Especially when, by time they left, Jeremy complained more about this apartment than the first one, which had been genuinely flawed.
That was fine though. The point wasn't to force Jeremy into an apartment, it was to find a place where he would be safe and comfortable. Well, no, that wasn't true either. It was to get out of the house and hang out with Jeremy. They even stopped in the middle of it and got some fries from the drive-through. This wasn't an apartment hunt; it was a casual search. So, Jeremy's intense criticism seemed odd.
It wasn't until the third apartment that it became very apparent that Jeremy wasn't acting as normal as Mike thought.
By all means, this third apartment was perfect. Even if it wasn't, he knew it was exactly what Jeremy would like, so he could've expected some sort of positive reaction. The apartment was actually a very small house, maybe built from a modular home, but it had been remodeled with modern furniture and wooden floors that looked almost new. To the right was a little living area and to the left a small dining set beside the kitchen.
Down the hall was a decent sized bedroom and an acceptably sized bathroom. The real drawing point was the fact that there was an upstairs. The upstairs area stretched almost the length of the house, but the downside- or what would normally be a downside- was that the ceiling was rather low. An adult sized man could comfortably sit on the floor, or a child could sit on a chair, but one would have to hunch far over to get through.
For anyone who wasn't housing dozens of small animatronics this upstairs wouldn't have any real use. For Jeremy, it could give his little gang a large playroom, and since the apartment wasn't attached to another, they could be relatively loud without tipping off any suspicion. Not to mention that the place was cheaper than any of the ones they had seen before. Mike wasn't expecting Jeremy to choose it, just to consider some of it.
Jeremy didn't consider any of it. He walked in saying, "This is way too small," before he had even seen the rest of the house. At least the last two times he pretended to look at the apartments before turning them down, but not this time, and he continued to be merciless. Apparently, he had decided that stairs were a no-go since the last apartment, and the bedroom felt too cold, the bathroom tiles looked like they would eventually need to be replaced, and the carpet was 'crunchy'.
It was almost like the apartment offended Jeremy. He looked at it with an amount of scrutiny that he had never seen before, which would've been commendable if it didn't seem so unlike him. They left without any debate.
The fourth apartment was awful, so Mike didn't have any problems insulting that one. He even threw in a couple of his own.
It wasn't until they were in that car after the fourth apartment, driving back towards the middle of Hurricane since it was further out, when Mike decided it was worth bringing up.
"So, what was wrong with the one before this?" he asked seemingly out of nowhere. Jeremy was a little surprised by it.
"The apartment?" he asked. "I told you, it's too cramped."
"Other than that. They were all cramped. What else was wrong with it?"
Jeremy was confused to why Mike was asking him when he told him while they were there, but he decided to indulge him.
"Okay, well there was the smell, the size, again, the living room was too small for a good-sized TV and couch, the stairs were too steep- and we couldn't even stand up in the second floor!" Jeremy listed back out. He looked out the window and watched the houses pass by. "And I don't really want to commute this far to get to work. It's twice the drive of my old place."
"Fair enough," Mike agreed. "…What about that second place?"
"Same thing. Too small, too… tight, and the stairs were a problem."
"I didn't know the stairs were going to be a problem."
Jeremy smiled a little. "When you have a bunch of little bodies running around, you've got to keep an eye out. Especially when those steps were taller than most of them."
"Makes sense," Mike agreed. Then he slowly sent a side-glance over. "I'm a little surprised that they didn't tell you about the stairs beforehand. Like when you called them to set up the tour."
In that moment Jeremy realized he had been caught, and the only thing keeping Mike from a triumphant smirk was the distinct feeling that something was wrong. He just waited to see if Jeremy would fess up to any of it. Shockingly, he did.
"…They did, at least for the first and seconds ones, I just didn't think about it at the time. I know I need to find a new place soon and I know I can't afford to be picky, but I'm not just making the choice for me. It's for the whole family and once we move there's no going back, I'm locked into it… I've got to make a good choice," Jeremy explained. His worry was obvious.
Mike gave a pensive frown and took the plunge. "…Jere, can I ask you something without you becoming defensive?"
"Considering how you worded that, probably not," Jeremy answered. Mike sent him a tired look and he added, "I can handle it. Ask me."
"That dream last night… Was it about Freddy's?"
Jeremy was expecting that question, but he certainly wasn't expecting it now of all times. Though it made since that it came from Mike, who hadn't been shy about talking about their newest issue.
"No… Maybe. It had nothing to do with Freddy's directly, no Mangle, nothing like that, but I know that's what probably caused it." Jeremy sunk deeper into the passenger seat. "To tell you the truth, this whole thing's got me a little freaked out. Just not knowing what's coming is killing me… and I don't want to put this on Foxy but seeing him like this really isn't helping things- not that I'm blaming him! I just- you know what I mean."
"I know exactly what you mean. Mari's doing the same thing just in the opposite way. He acts like he's sure everything's going to work out and super upbeat, but I don't believe it for a second. I know he's scared and he's angry, but he's trying so hard to keep it in that it's coming out in other ways," Mike confessed tiredly. "I thought we talked about it yesterday, but I don't think we really did."
"I noticed he was a little… Yeah," Jeremy agreed. "What are you going to do?"
"Play along with the Mari Poppins act until he's ready for whatever comes next. To be honest, I think I'm more afraid of whatever that will be than this."
"…Probably wind up like Foxy," the blond quietly agreed. Mike gave a half nod while the other returned to looking at the window, watching a restaurant pass by the window. He huffed and added, "I'm just not-!... Ready for this."
Mike looked to him questioningly.
"I'm not ready to deal with Freddy's, and I'm sure not ready to deal with any of the stuff it brings with it," Jeremy admitted. His voice lowered to a mutter, "Not when I just got my act together. I'm already having nightmares again."
It was those two repeated words, 'not ready', that tipped Mike off that this wasn't all about Freddy's. It was also about unfinished business, because in hindsight he knew that nightmare hadn't been about Freddy taking a knife to him.
"Jeremy, you don't have to look for an apartment. And you didn't have to find things wrong to get out of getting any of those ones, because you don't have to move out… Except that last apartment. That deserved everything we could throw at it. They didn't even try to cover up that puddle," Mike said.
Jeremy was a little surprised, but quickly deflated. "It's not that simple, Mike."
"It is that simple. You don't have to move out," he affirmed. "It would be one thing if we were trying to share a one-bedroom apartment, but it's a four-bedroom house, and we still have a bed not being slept in. Things are going good right now, why rush thing when we've got other stuff to worry about?"
"…Do you mean that?" Jeremy asked. "Mike, be honest with me. Are you only saying that because you're afraid I'm going to, I don't know… Spiral out?"
"If I was, I sure as hell wouldn't tell you," Mike quipped with a brief smirk. "But I'm not. I like having you around, even if it means having to put up with the munchkins and the gremlin."
The car was silent for a few long moments until Jeremy suddenly and abruptly caved.
"I'm afraid to go back to living alone. I know it sounds stupid since I know he's gone, but I keep thinking what if I get a place, move everyone in, and then can't handle it?"
"I don't see that happening, but that doesn't mean you have to go," Mike encouraged. "How long have you been thinking about this?"
"Once I started apartment hunting. That's why it's been taking me so long, I just keep finding reasons to stall… And it sucks too because I turned down some good apartments." He let that sit a moment before the relief suddenly set in. The weight of an invisible timer was pulled off his chest and he reattained a real smile. "Thanks for this."
"No problem. Nothing worth getting sappy about," Mike playfully nudged. All seemed to have returned to a place of normality, at least as it could in the situation. Though now that it had, and now that Jeremy felt so much better having talked about it, he decided to return the favor.
"What about you, Mike? How're you doing?" he offered, opening the door up for him.
"I'm waiting for Mari to pull it together and then I'm going to completely lose it," Mike said. It was framed like a joke, but the dead seriousness in his voice was convincing. "Just a head's up."
"Thanks. I'll make sure to be gone that day," Jeremy replied. He got the impression that Mike wasn't feeling like saying anything more, so he let it drop. "…So, there's one last apartment, but if I'm not moving out, I guess there's no point in looking."
"Screw that. I'm already out, let's go."
Marionette couldn't remember the last time he saw Foxy in this state. He had seen him on hard times before, with the most recent example being after the incident a few months ago. The one with possession, the break ins, and the snake. He wasn't alone either. Everyone came out of that incident in a state of shock and horror, including himself. He had been the one person to witness Afton's descent into that lake and he still hadn't felt safe.
But Foxy still wasn't like this. He was afraid, angry, and defensive, but not this lost in despair. He had hoped in staying over he could in some time with him, and he was, but all Foxy wanted was to sit on his stage with his eye unfocused, not willing to make any small talk unless it was forced out of him. It was almost scary to look at. Marionette was desperate to stop it.
"…I could put the TV on. We could watch a movie or a cartoon," he offered gently. "I know you don't probably feel up to it, but it could be a good distraction."
"Don't feel up to it," Foxy grumbled. Though then waved his hook in his general direction, "Go ahead an' put somethin' on fer you though. It's fine."
Dismissive assurances were not fine, and Marionette could predict putting anything on would only shut down conversation more, and no doubt Foxy wouldn't even look at the screen. He had to think of a better tactic.
"I shouldn't tell you this…" Marionette began with a sly smile and narrowed eyes. "But Tabby left a half of a moist chocolate sheet cake in the fridge."
Foxy gave an almost exasperated mimic of a sigh, and it was enough to snap the smile right off of Marionette's face, now replaced with a tight line.
"Look, Marion, I know what yer doin'. Yer tryin' to pull me outta this funk, but Lad, that just ain't gonna happen. There's some things cake and candy ain't gonna make you forget," Foxy said in a surprisingly gentle tone. Or perhaps it was just a surprisingly listless one. It was enough to stop the puppet's attempts in their tracks. "…How moist?"
"Exceptionally moist?" Marionette offered with a tiny smile daring to appear. It didn't last when Foxy's head dropped again with disinterest. That was the most effort he could give.
Equally downtrodden, Marionette let out a windy out-of-tune twang and floated over beside the pirate before sitting on the stage alongside him. He stared down at his striped legs and tapped his fingers dully on the stage, trying to think of something that he could say. Nothing could make it better, but it felt like he couldn't just leave it like this. It took a minute or two, but finally he found the words he wanted to say.
"I love you," the puppet said. He reached out and wrapped his arms around the fox, slid in closer, and rested his head against his. His soft faux fur was warm and comforting, like a plush toy. "Whatever happens, we're going to still have each other. Freddy's can take our customers, they can take our fanfare, but they can never take away my big brother. We'll always have each other."
Something in those words triggered something deep in Foxy's core. The depressed slump he had been in suddenly snapped into an alertness, a protectiveness, a heated frustration and drive he hadn't had to feel in years, if ever.
Freddy's wasn't going to take away his family. Freddy's wasn't going to take away anything. He was going to make sure of it, come hell or high water.
"…I ain't takin' this sitting down."
Marionette was startled both by the change in tone and the fact that Foxy volunteered anything at all. He gently unwound himself from the pirate, who immediately stood up on the edge of the stage. He looked up at Foxy and the intense look in his eye and he cautiously felt a renewed hope.
"If Freddy thinks I'm gonna roll over and let him take everything we worked for, he's got another thing comin'," Foxy growled. He lifted his hook and stared at it with a, frankly, almost murderous glint. Reaching up to run it over with his fingers and looking like he wanted to gut someone with it. "In fact…" He turned down on Marionette and boldly proclaimed, "We're gonna run Freddy's straight outta town."
"We are? I mean- yes! We should!… But how would we go about doing that?" Marionette asked. He meant to sound encouraging, but instead he just sounded confused.
"A strategic campaign to get ev'ryone on our side and to dredge up all of Freddy's bad blood. This time, Foxy ain't playin' the villain fer some two-bit bear joint. We be the underdogs! Up again a fierce foe, the capitalist sow that is Freddy Fazbear & Friends!" Foxy said, pointing a hook off into the distance. It might've been intentionally in the direction of the highway.
He could tell that Marionette was still skeptical. Rightly so, as what Foxy was suggesting was going to be quite an undertaking, but it was what they had to do. He crouched down alongside him.
"All we gotta do is play the game a lot harder than Freddy's be. They're gonna throw out merch and discount, flash and flair, and whatever else they got. We gotta be better. Foxy's gonna have to be a hometown hero." Foxy paused to tap his hook on his 'chin' in thought, eye darting around as his racing thoughts spilled in. "…We need to get back in the news."
"I hope you mean in a good way."
"When's that Christmas thing goin' on downtown?"
"Oh, the festival? Next week!" Marionette said. He perked up considerably, eagerly accepting the direction they were going in. "And I'm sure after last year's performance they would be happy to have us return."
"We're doin' it, and we're doin' it fer free," Foxy proclaimed. This act of generosity surprised the puppet, who almost considered pointing out that they may need that money for the expansion before Foxy continued. "Because I want them comin' to us fer now on. I'll be hog tied and dunked in chum 'fore I hear of Freddy Fazbear performin' in my town."
"Good point," Marionette agreed. Though while he was glad to see Foxy out of the slump, he couldn't shake the feeling that Foxy's abrupt swing in behavior wasn't exactly a good thing. He just flung himself out of depression and into bargaining, but he had a point. They couldn't just accept that there was nothing they could do about Freddy's. They had to fight back.
Marionette wanted to fight back.
He felt that creeping frustration tightening his spools until they ached, but he managed to swallow it before Foxy could notice and took care not to get too close.
"What else did you have in mind?" he asked.
"To be honest, I ain't got much. There's no tellin' how long we got before that place opens, so we're gonna have to use up every minute. Maybe start pushing fer parties off-site again. Iff'n they want us at home er at some other willing venue, we'll do it… Still ain't enough." Foxy did a little circle on the stage, like he was preparing to pace only to realize he didn't have a great space to do so. He looked down at the puppet, "You stayin' over tonight, Marion?"
"I could if you'd like," Marionette agreed instantly. Then after some consideration added, "…Or you could come home with me."
"I'd love too, Lad, but… I don't think I'd be good company," Foxy said with a sigh. "I'll just bring ya all down. Or getcha all wound up with all these plans fer conquest."
His tone shifted so smoothly back into somberness that it wasn't only jarring, but it confirmed that Foxy hadn't flipped on a dime entirely. He was ramped up and ready to fight, and it was the only thing keeping him from sinking again. That wouldn't do, but Marionette also wasn't ready to give up on getting him home.
"…Alright Foxy, I didn't want to have to tell you this, but Jeremy had a nightmare last night," Marionette revealed. Foxy looked up attentively. "A rather rough one. Bad enough that Forget-Me-Not ran into the bedroom to wake Mike and I up."
"Really?" Foxy's ears ticked upwards in concern. "Did he say what it was about…?"
"I think we both know what it was about," Marionette murmured. "I know it's selfish to ask this when you're going through a lot, especially since I know Jeremy wouldn't have wanted me to tell you about it… But I think it would be best if you came home and stayed with Jeremy tonight. Just in case."
"…Are ya just tellin' me this to get me to come home?"
Marionette stared blankly before answering.
"…Yes."
"But Jeremy did have a nightmare last night?"
"Yes," Marionette said more somberly. Foxy contemplated this before giving a nod.
"Then I be comin' with you. If me first mate needs me, I'll be there… Even if it means squeezing onto that godfersaken one-person cot." He sat back down on the edge of the stage beside a thankful, smiling Marionette before pointing his hook towards the kitchen door. "Do a seafox a favor and go fetch that cake."
Marionette chimed and got up to head into the kitchen. Foxy waited until he was gone before slouching in on himself. Of course, Jeremy would have a hard time with this. It wasn't that Foxy didn't want to be there for him- if anything being with him might've made him feel a little better- but that he didn't want to burden anyone else with this, either out of pride or protectiveness.
Because Foxy just wasn't coping with this.
His hand was fidgeting on his leg, and he looked down to watch his own fingers tighten into his pants. Twitchy as usual, he thought bitterly. Always twitchy, shifty, legs wound up ready for a sprint and nowhere to go. That's how he felt right now. So wound up and on edge, ready to fight and with nothing to fight except a vague corporate entity.
When he thought of Fazbear Entertainment, he didn't just think of the old pizzeria or Freddy Fazbear's oversized mug. He thought of the long days shoved back into maintenance when he acted up, the dark, cold nights alone in the pizzeria. Spending the night alone at Foxy's was different because Foxy's was his. This whole building, these arcade machines, these party tables, they were his pirate ship to protect.
But here came something he couldn't protect it from. Just like back then, he was a helpless soul trapped in a body that had its voice purposefully yanked away. He could feel the bear trap sliding closed.
Foxy was always forcibly separated from others. Whether it be his stage back at Freddy's or his home life that came before it, he was the odd one out. The bad one. The troublemaker scourge of the seven seas. Nobody was going to choose him over Freddy, or anyone else for that matter. He was set up to lose from the moment he came into existence.
It made him wonder who was going to replace him. Foxy the Pirate was no longer part of the Fazbear & Friends license. He couldn't help but wonder who was going to replace him. It made his whole-body tense. Probably someone cooler.
The worst part was that Foxy was getting desperate enough that he would've talked to someone, but he realized quickly that he couldn't. He wasn't going to worry Jeremy or Marionette; he was too proud to talk to Mike- and worried he would tell one of the first two. He wasn't going to spill his guts to Fritz or Ennard, or put the weight on Charlie or Natalie, and that pretty much left few remaining options. This was what he got for shutting everybody out for so long.
Though the thought of being vulnerable twisted him up inside. It was so hard for him to show that amount of weakness, even to Jeremy whom he trusted with everything. He wasn't about to tell him that he was afraid; then Freddy's would win. It would be like his father winning, or that's how he felt about it.
He just had to deal in any way he could until the day came that the new pizzeria was upon him. Then he would… He didn't know. Something would happen. Something he couldn't control.
Thankfully, that was when Marionette returned with the sheet cake. Maybe if he overwhelmed one sense it would dull out the others.
It was worse than Foxy could've ever imagined it to be. The mall was just a massive maze of a pizzeria and no matter where he went, he couldn't find his way out. Which was especially problematic since a pack of purple clad security guard weasels were chasing at his heels. He vaulted over a bench and flew through the air before landing on the rail of an escalator and sliding down into a lobby area.
There was a carousel spinning at incredible speeds that Foxy ran past and down through a bunch of tables. Then he spotted the exit doors in the distance and dashed down before barreling through and out into the parking lot outside of the diner. Except it was broad daylight, much to his horror. He needed a ride home and looked around desperately. Thankfully, Scott and Michael were talking nearby. Either human could drive him home.
He ran up to them while frantically jittering in place. He couldn't get his legs to stop thumping. When he opened his mouth, all that came out was a stretched and corrupted, "Yaaaaaaaaarrrgh." His mouth tasted like stale pudding.
Michael looked over and sucked through his teeth. "What did you do?" he asked. Foxy tried to say something, but his voice box was crackling. He was, in fact, haywiring again, except this time he was totally conscious.
Michael's mouth opened dramatically in shock. Scott turned to run and then Michael boldly pointed past Foxy's head. "Freddy's coming! Get out of here, quick!"
Foxy's vision suddenly separated from his body and circled around his head to stare behind him. Freddy ran out of the front doors and was coming at him fast. His fur was golden, and his eyes were empty- and he was wearing a very spiffy painted on tux- and Foxy couldn't do anything to stop him as the bear grabbed him and clamped his jaws on his muzzle, breaking it off in its teeth.
It wasn't nearly as painful as hitting the nightstand on his way to the floor.
The moment Foxy hit the carpeted floor; he knew exactly what had happened. The dream was long forgotten as the mortification sank in with the realization that he just fell out of bed. For a minute he just laid there, hoping to go unnoticed.
Then the bedside lamp clicked on, and Jeremy leaned over the edge of the bed to look down at him.
"Are you okay? That sounded like a pretty hard fall," he said. Foxy turned his head with a groggy groan and saw two Minireenas peeking down at him. The third, Rose, he had almost taken with him. She currently was climbing up the blankets dangling half off the bed. Jeremy noticed how Foxy's head was bent and tilted against the nightstand. "Did you hit your head on the way down?" he asked worriedly.
"Not hard enough," Foxy grumbled as he sat up onto his backside. He adjusted his head to make sure everything was securely attached. That was how he saw Balloon Boy slowly stretching his head out around the end of the bed. They exchanged a stare for a minute and, once BB decided he wasn't actually injured, he laughed at his misfortune. Foxy rolled his eye and groaned as pulled to his feet.
Jeremy made quick work of fixing the blankets, but that didn't do much to fix the actual problem. Which was an adult man, a human sized animatronic, a small rabbit, and a gaggle of lanky dolls trying to fit into a bed that originally belonged to a single teenager. Foxy looked down at the bed warily as Jeremy pulled down the blankets and waited expectantly for him to get back in.
"Maybe the couch be better," Foxy suggested.
"No, come on. We'll be more careful. I've got more than enough room right here," Jeremy insisted. He patted the bed beside him.
Foxy didn't know whether to scoff at the implication that they weren't being careful or at the fact that the bed space clearly hadn't changed. Regardless, he got back in, and it was as awkward as it was before. Though sleeping in a bed was always weird for him. Blankets got tangled up, his head never wanted to fit right- he was half willing to take off his head just to manage the pillow.
Without warning he worked his head free and dropped it off beside the bed before dropping back onto the bed.
"Better. Good night," Foxy said. He laid there for a long moment before looking over at Jeremy who was still just staring at him. "…What?"
"Nothing!" Jeremy quickly declined and went to adjust the blanket.
Foxy would've smirked a little, or tried to, if he still had his head on. Half of the reason he ever yanked off his head was just to see Jeremy's reaction. It emboldened him enough to turn and face him, propped on his side.
"How do I look?" he asked teasingly. That smirk now on his voice, winking at the blonde.
"You look great! I mean, y'know, for having your endo out…-o," Jeremy answered. He wasn't even that thrown off by it, it was just his attempt to save face that came out a little weird. He turned off the light and laid down facing Foxy, reaching back to cup Rose who had cuddled up at the back of his neck and then scooting closer to him. He got as far as putting an arm around the pirate before suddenly having epiphany. "Jaw dropping! You're jaw droppingly gorgeous."
This got the first real snicker out of Foxy in days. He reached out- cautiously in the dark because of his hook- and rested it back on Jeremy's side. Where it had been earlier before his quick sprint through the nightmarish Freddy mall.
Jeremy pulled him in close and Foxy didn't stop him, letting him get dragged to his chest and coddled like a child's plush toy. It couldn't have felt comfortable to cuddle metal, but Jeremy didn't to mind. Then again, he was used to cuddling up with wooden dolls, so maybe he had tougher skin than he thought. It definitely felt different on Foxy's end. Everything felt a lot more concentrated, but gentle enough that it wasn't painful.
He hummed and nudged the blanket up over his head before putting his arm back around him, hook facing out and digging into the sheet. He felt leagues away from the whole world. Part of him wished he could stay here forever and not have to face whatever waited outside the bedroom. He would have to though, if just to thank Marionette for coercing him to come home.
Foxy didn't want to sleep, but eventually he did. Jeremy was there before him and found to his relief that there were no nightmares awaiting him.
Foxy wasn't so lucky. At least he stayed on the bed.