Mable: And here we are! Hopefully back on the Wednesday schedule! 8D Enjoy!
Going Home in a Box
Chapter Thirty-Six
Natalie wasn't sure exactly how doing nails turned into watching a movie, but she didn't have any complaints. 'Going Dutch' was on, possibly the corniest romance pretending to be a comedy that she had ever seen- and one she would never admit to watching, let alone enjoying. She did briefly wonder how long Ness told the office she was going to be out for, but supposed it wasn't her place to confront her about it. Not when Ness had finally started to relax.
But Going Dutch was starting to lose its luster when rivaling a painfully small breakfast and the progressing afternoon.
"So, my nails are mostly dry," Natalie eventually said while checking the tackiness on her nails. "Want to go get something to eat?"
"Sure! Or, if you want, we can order in. My treat!" Ness popped up from the couch before heading into the kitchen. "I have so many of those little takeout flier things I could staple them together and make a book," she remarked. Then pulled open a drawer beside the fridge and started pulling a stack of them out and splaying them on the counter before her. "What do you feel like?"
"Anything but pizza. I've had leftover pizza three times this week," Natalie said.
"Yeah, same. It's one of two things in the staff fridge," Ness agreed. She tilted her head towards the refrigerator before pulling it open with half-hearted curiosity. As though something might've appeared in there since she had gotten out a couple of sodas earlier. "…Want to go on an adventure and try what's in the mystery Tupperware?"
"I think I'll pass," Natalie said. Apparently, Ness was tempted enough to still get it out and pop it open and proceeded to choke. Hearing it, Natalie looked back towards the kitchen. "That bad?"
Ness audibly dry-heaved.
"Need help?" the blond offered. Ness started choking out some kind of defense through her hand, but Natalie was already up and coming in, catching Ness in the act of trying to get the possibly warped plastic container closed.
"Here, I got it," Natalie offered.
The other woman gave up all pretenses and left it on the counter, walking to the other side of the sink with her face covered- either from embarrassment or to stop the gagging.
It wasn't until Natalie started trying to close the Tupperware that she was suddenly hit by the smell. It was gruesome. It didn't even smell like food, and the plastic lid wouldn't close back down without the tub wobbling.
Eventually it was too much, and she went ahead and peeked in, and then promptly closed the lid back when she saw a thick layer of green and yellow and neither looked like they were supposed to be there.
"Yeah, that's bad," Natalie said, cheeks puffed in disgust. She could taste it while she said it. "Is there a garbage can-?" Ness pointed to the one on the floor, overflowing with food containers already. "-Outside?" Natalie finished.
"There's a dumpster on that side of the building." She pointed behind her somewhere.
"Okay, no. that's not happening. Uh…" Natalie considered her options. One was dumping it down the toilet. A fitting end to the rancid waste, but then she would have to see it, smell it, and still have the plastic. Which she couldn't even clean in the sink because it would taint every dish in the house. There was really only one option. "I'm just sticking it back in."
"Put it in the freezer. Maybe if it freezes, we won't be able to smell it and then I'll just dump the whole thing later," Ness suggested. Her back practically against the cabinet now.
This seemed like a decent idea, so Natalie gladly yanked open the freezer door, and immediately her eyes popped open.
"What is this?"
'This' being a funky sludge of brown with flecks of color and darker clumps and swirls through it that was currently pooling all across the bottom if the freezer. There was a sludgy box half deformed along with it. Ness leaned in to look.
"DAMN!" she yelled, thumping her fist on the counter. "That's- That's three-fourths of an ice cream cake! UGH, I told Dad this thing was dying on me!"
Indeed, the freezer was warmer than the fridge. Her car was currently likely cooler than that freezer. Ness simply shut the freezer, standing there with her hand on it and her face a tomato red flush from embarrassment and disgust.
"…I'll just-!" Ness ducked under the sink and started to dig around. "I've got gloves!" She continued yanking stuff out, including a burned-bottom baking pan and a box of trash bags. "I've got gloves in here somewhere!"
"Just hand me a trash bag. That'll work," Natalie said. Ness yanked one out and open, then stood up and held it open. Natalie dropped the Tupperware inside and got a delightful view of it hitting the bottom and popping open, spilling its mess into the bottom of the bag. The smell leaked out before Ness could even shut and twist it closed. Just the squelching noise it made was enough to cringe at.
"I'm making a run for it," Ness warned. Holding the bag out as far as she could, she ran for the front door and fumbled it open, choking as she did so. She barely pulled the door behind her and was off.
And so was Natalie. She only waited around long enough to hear Ness on the steps before making a run across the room and doing something she had been waiting to do all day, yank the blanket off of that mysterious pile.
…
It was just clothes.
Shirts, pants, pajamas, a mix of a whole wardrobe laying on the floor and barely hidden under a blanket. She moved some off the top, but it quickly became apparent from how the stuff was clumped together that it wasn't an effort to hide anything, just an innocuous mound of clothes. Nothing suspicious to be seen, so signs of Ness being up to something.
No rabbit costume.
But Natalie wasn't done. Deciding she had gone this far, she threw open Ness' closet and looked inside. Unlike blanket, the closet wasn't hiding that many clothes- it seemed like a majority of them were on the floor- but it was sheltering a small collection of Freddy Fazbear memorabilia separated into boxes and a basket on the floor. The basket filled with plush toys, the boxes with miscellaneous pieces.
There were things like a couple of old plastic mugs and a couple of framed posters stacked together, but there were also less traditionally collectable pieces. Like a small stack of used paper plates with Freddy and Friends' faces on them, and a rolled-up birthday banner. Hanging on the back of the door was the shirt from Foxy's that Natalie gave her while the plush she gave her sat on the very top of the basket.
Natalie found herself frowning at the collection. Not that Ness hid it, but that she felt the need to hide it, and she honestly couldn't tell if she had just done this for her or was doing it constantly. Maybe it was for Brad, which was worrying.
Once again there was no rabbit suit. Now Natalie was finally starting to get a clear picture on what she had stumbled in upon.
So, this was Ness' diabolical secret. The pile of clothes, the stack of dishes, the ancient leftovers: she just had a semi-messy house and didn't feel like cleaning out her fridge. This wasn't the sign of something amiss, but a rushed cleaning job.
Knowing she was running out of time, and at least sating her curiosity a little bit, Natalie hurried back over into the kitchen. She didn't have to wait long before hearing the footsteps on the stairs outside.
After a moment of hesitation, Ness slowly opened the door and let herself inside. She closed it behind her, back still towards Natalie, before finally turning around. Her eyes were owlishly wide and her face beat red, likely less from embarrassment and instead from the dry heaving. Just seeing that look, just recalling everything that just happened, Natalie couldn't hold out.
She snorted with laughter.
"That wasn't funny!" Ness defended, though the smile that broke across her face betrayed her. She covered her face as Natalie continued trying to swallow her snickers. "I want to die. Right now. Die."
"It happens to everyone! You wouldn't believe the stuff I cleaned out of the fridge back when I was living at home," Natalie dismissed. Finally reigning herself in, though still smiling.
"Like what?" Ness asked. Daring to peek through her fingers.
"Like when someone leaves an open cup of yogurt in the fridge and someone else knocks it over, and neither cleans it up, and then it spreads around the bottom of everything around it until you get home from work, pull out a drink, and have this pink-white stuff start dripping on your shoes."
"…Okay, I see your point, but was there a two-inch layer of like… layered burrito dip green stuff on the top?"
"Is that what that was, burrito dip?" Natalie asked in disbelief. She supposed that would explain the coloring and the smell.
"No, I think it was some sort of leftover casserole thing." Or maybe it didn't. "The total, one-hundred percent truth is that I've been spending a lot of time over at my boyfriend's and I just haven't even been going in the fridge at all."
Natalie could believe that. The brief glimpse into the fridge that she got revealed about twenty cherry Fizzy Fazs, some eggs, some take-out boxes, and very little else. It didn't look like Ness was struggling, but it didn't look like she was cooking.
"Makes sense. Still, it's no big deal. It happens."
"Ugggh, and the freezer too." Ness rubbed circles into her eyes.
"I can help you clean it out. It's just melted ice cream, it's nothing compared to the dip."
"No! I'm not ruining our nails. I'll do it once I get some gloves. It's not going anywhere," Ness insisted. In seconds she managed to recover and waved the whole thing off, though from the strain in her voice it was clear that she was trying to cover. "So, uh… Still hungry?"
"A little," Natalie said half-truthfully. "You?"
"Not really," Ness admitted. "…But maybe I will if we go get something? And that's go somewhere else, outside of this apartment?"
"Alright, but we're going to miss the end of Going Dutch."
"So what? We've already seen all the good parts." Ness whipped back open the door with a tight smile showing how desperately she wanted to get back out of the apartment- and away from the slight smell still hovering in the kitchen.
Though it would mean walking away from any possible leads hiding inside the apartment, Natalie agreed. It wasn't like she was going to get to snoop around with Ness around here anyways, at least she got in a little of that already.
Besides, a breath of fresh air would probably be good for them both.
Since Foxy's was open and nearly everyone of importance was still there, the only person left on the list was none other than Chance. He was also the last person Mike wanted to see, as he regularly was. While Mike's demeanor towards and understanding of Chance had softened, he always got the feeling of walking on eggshells around him. Like he would say the wrong thing and stir up a hornet's nest in response.
It also didn't help matters that Springtrap was here considering his colorful history with Chance. Mike had offered to let him off at Scott's, Ennard had practically bribed him into staying, but Springtrap had his mind made up. He would continue traveling around on their errands until they were done and then they would drop him off, where he would likely return to his fuzzy TV and clingy couch.
In hindsight, Mike could've probably convinced him to stay at Scott's right then by mentioning that they were going to see Chance, but at the time he was too concerned at how saying the name would upset Scott himself and maybe his clowns. He didn't make the reveal until they were on the road. At which point Springtrap asked to be let off on the side of the road, to which Mike gave a simple no and locked the car doors.
He called Fritz before letting himself into the house with his spare key, as Natalie was still not home. Fritz didn't mind. If anything, he was probably relieved to not be there while two time bombs walked around the same general area.
They didn't waste any time before heading to the stairs. Charlie took the lead, Mike more than happy to fall back and let her soften up the bear, but she turned back to Springtrap before heading downstairs.
"Maybe you should wait here," she suggested.
"I am," Springtrap answered. "On the stairs, where I can hear him."
"Oh, okay. Sounds like a plan," Charlie said with slight relief. She began to head down the stairs, holding the railing tightly as she carefully and quickly descended. "We shouldn't take too long."
"It'll only feel like eternity," Mike muttered over his shoulder. Springtrap bumped him in the back with his elbow. "Alright, I'm going," he said. Then followed down into the lower floor.
Chance had paused in flickering through the channels when he heard the door opening upstairs. By time he heard the muffled voices on the stairs, he recognized that one was Charlie and relaxed before he could've got up and done something. He still got up to greet her, and she knocked on the wall of the stairs before stepping down into the hall.
"Hey, Grandpa. It's me," she greeted with a smile.
"Hey, Girlie! I didn't hear you come in," he said. Not wanting her to know that he had been listening- not that he heard anything, but he couldn't afford to have their relationship put back in a shaky position. Not when it had finally got to the point where she greeted him with a smile and without a beat of hesitation. He held his arms out and she accepted the hug, even with his suit always being a little awkward to manage.
Something pressurized in his chest. His internal music box started to tighten up like it was preparing to fight the deeply crusted ash to start playing its beguiling music. He put it back in its place with a straightening of his back, then coughed.
"So, what can I do you for?" Chance asked. He was quick to sit back down on the couch, letting his body relax into complacency once again, and when she sat down on the couch beside him, he felt fine. That was also when he acknowledged Mike who had come in behind her with a nod. "Afternoon, Mike."
"Hey. How's it going?" Mike replied.
"How do you think? I've been seeing that damned Freddy's commercial so many times I could probably translate the thing in pig Latin," Chance remarked. He pointedly grabbed the remote to mute the television before dropping it at his side. "You got any news on that place?"
"It's funny you should ask," Mike said, a grin sliding onto his face. "I happen to know for a fact that last night some gang with absolutely zero self-preservation skills snuck into the Pizzaplex, scared their robots, ate their snacks, and left without getting caught by security."
"Well, they should've known that was bound to happen! They've got a place that size with that many doors and they expect one person to walk the whole thing-… It was you, wasn't it?" Chanced realized at seeing Mike's ever-widening smile.
"It's always me. I always come back," Mike said, patting his chest and winking.
Chance gave him an overwhelmingly exhausted look before slowly turning his gaze back to his granddaughter. "Did you go too?"
"Someone had to watch him," Charlie tried.
"Good, then I can just pretend he's not here."
Mike just continued to smirk, knowing he won.
"What did you find?" Chance asked, his tone growing serious. Mike went ahead and let Charlie explain on her own.
"First off, almost everything Foxy said was right. Freddy's friendly but most of the others aren't. The place is huge and barely held together with duct tape. We've confirmed at least one animatronic who's been scrapped, barely holding himself together with duct tape in the back of the daycare… One of the animatronics, the Sun, the one that wasn't scrapped, recognized Mari. Turns out he was one of the kids that went missing back at the old Freddy's."
"What?" Chance actually sounded aghast. He sobered up quickly, but his eye was still open wide. "I should've known. We should've known this was bound to happen-." The budding anger quickly receded with a long silence following the outburst. He was silently staring at her now, and Charlie noticed.
"Uh, Grandpa?" she asked.
"Was it Sammy?"
Charlie leaned back in surprise and Chance was immediately apologetic. "Sorry, I… I shouldn't have sprung that on you, Sweetheart. It's just… he's been on my mind," he confessed.
"No, it's okay! You just surprised me, that's all," Charlie reassured. This was the first time he really brought up Sammy unprovoked, so she didn't want to discourage that line of communication. Not when that was one of the biggest issues she had with her family. "It wasn't him. Although I almost wish it was."
Chance's eyelid lowered further in disappointment. "You're not the only one…"
"What's got you thinking about him?" Mike dared to ask. He made sure to ask quietly and nonconfrontationally, to show that he was being genuine and not leading to anything. He was used to Chance getting defense. Oddly, he wasn't this time.
"I don't know… Marion for one. Him asking about him the other day brought back old memories… I started thinking he might've suspected something and didn't tell me, and that was why he was asking," he confessed.
He didn't realize how close to the mark he had hit.
"It just keeps creeping back up on me," Chance continued. "…Not that I've got much choice. I've got the face of Freddy Fazbear popping up on my TV screen every ten minutes. What else have I got to think about?" he muttered.
"Right… Well, if you feel like taking a trip down there, it's insanely easy to sneak in. Once you find a way past the front doors, you're pretty much home free," Mike suggested, knowing good and well that Chance probably wouldn't take him up on the offer and yet still giving it. It only seemed fair considering their topic of discussion.
Chance scoffed. "Yeah, I bet you'd like to see me haul this clumsy hunk of junk around that place. I saw how many floors they have, and I don't trust any elevator contracted by Fazbear Entertainment."
Charlie gave a disagreeing hum at his comment.
"Might be good to get you out of the basement for a while. If not Freddy's, then maybe Foxy's?" Mike offered. A question he only posed because he knew Springtrap was listening and didn't want to get cornered on it later. In all actuality, Chance seemed to be holding out better than Springtrap. Or he at least got up to greet them.
Unfortunately, he realized that this had backfired the second Chance started to speak.
"This basement's the best place for me. I'm safe from people, they're safe from me, and I'm not rotting away in someone's garage. You've got to keep in mind that we're not all built for the spotlight. This body was built for one purpose, and it failed. Better to hide that away when the reporters flock in asking about the latest industrial accident that mangled some guy at Freddy's."
While the words themselves weren't especially dire, and the tone definitely lightened back up at the end, Mike knew Springtrap had heard and could only hope he didn't equate the comments to his own situation. Which, considering Michael's perchance for harsh realism, wasn't likely.
"Don't say that. It's not about protecting people from you, it's protecting us from people," Charlie assured. She knew exactly what was lurking deep in Chance's body and what it was made for, so her comment could only be to assure him.
Which, Mike noted to himself, was also not exactly true. Chance was just a different kind of dangerous now than he used to be. He used to be those people who were threats, now he was just what they targeted.
"And Mike has a point," she continued.
Though before she could elaborate further, there was a dull thump from the stairs. Chance's eye darted over to the closest approximation of where the noise had come from.
"…Who else came with you, the clown?" he asked.
Charlie hung on the spot for a moment before answering, "It's Foxy. He's not really doing so hot after last night."
"He went with you?"
"No, but… It was upsetting context-wise."
"I'll go check on him," Mike said. Both to spare Charlie from having to lie any further- he knew she was only doing it for Chance's sake- and to figure out what the sound actually was. If Springtrap slipped on the steps or was barely holding himself back from charging down and confronting Chance.
He wasn't sure why he assumed that was what Springtrap might do. He could occasionally be unpredictable, but that would be an especially volatile mood. Though he couldn't really predict Springtrap's response with how odd he was acting.
Nothing punctuated that more than him coming around the corner of the landing and finding Springtrap sitting on the steps with his head in his hands.
Mike expected anything else. More so to find him standing there with his arms crossed, or leaning on the wall, with a look of general fatigue at the whole situation. Yet instead, he looked utterly defeated. He didn't react when Mike came up.
Eventually he dragged his head up to look at him and the two exchanged a stare for a long moment. Then Springtrap silently stood and turned, heading up the stairs. He followed quickly behind the rabbit.
"What's on your mind?" Mike finally asked. His voice gentler and more concerned than Springtrap would've ever heard it, usually saved for the direst of circumstances. Something about this moment felt like one of those.
It took Springtrap a moment to get his words together. His back to Mike, he wavered back and forth, looking around at the living room and seemingly struggling to hold it together. Then finally he pointed down at the floor, through the floor, at the exact spot of the downstairs couch where grandfather and granddaughter were still talking.
"I killed that man," Michael said. His voice shaky and disturbed. "I took away what was left of his life. I ruined his life."
"Okay, wait. It was not like that," Mike defended. "It was a bad situation-."
"I left him with that suit. I knew what was going to happen and I didn't care." Michael's voice cracked at the end. It sounded just as broken as the rattling and squeaking of his suit.
"It's not like he was much better," Mike bitterly reminded. "I'm not saying what you did was right, but I AM saying that he was planning on killing me and didn't bat an eye about it. Either by fire or bullet, and he didn't care which."
"That's not the point!" Michael's outburst silenced his defenses instantly. He was still fumbling in place, fidgeting and uncomfortable, looking around like he wanted to run but didn't know where. "The POINT is not that he would've done the same thing- I am quite aware of that!" He turned back to face Mike, eyes wide and wild. "I could've just killed him. Yes, I would still be a murderer, but then it would've been true self-defense. No matter what he says now, he would've never stopped coming after us. It would have been vile, but somewhat justified. But that's not what I did. I inflicted the same curse onto him that was placed onto me."
He gestured a hand to the floor again. "An empty, useless life taking up space and wasting time, hoping that there will be a someday where this prison sentence is over! Chance may be kept among the living in that suit, but he's not living!"
Mike was silent and Michael recognized from his look of shock that he had said too much, that he had read the throughlines. He forced himself to turn his head away and stare at that point on the floor, arm dropping at his side.
"This is not one of Marion's acts of mercy, an attempt to save, a gift of life. I gave Chance the gift of a non-life. I turned him into a… a statue. A statue that can only observe the world and never be part of it," he lamented.
There was a long moment that passed before Mike inhaled deeply.
"So, that's what's going on," he said, and the moment he did Michael's shoulders dropped and his whole body seemed to deflate. "Look, I can't even pretend I know what it's like. Nothing that's ever happened to me has come anywhere close to what you've been through… But Michael, it doesn't have to be like that. This might not be a normal life, but it doesn't have to be a miserable one either."
"I have no choice," Michael murmured. Before the other could continue, right as the protests sat on his lips, he added, "You have no choice when you look like this."
As much as Mike didn't want to agree, it was hard to argue when his situation was so different from Marionette, Foxy, or even Baby or Ennard's. Though the latter gave him some wiggle room. "Then let's fix you up. Let's get you a new suit, or just build you a new one from scratch, get all that… gunk cleaned out of your joints, your wires all fixed up, get you out of that warehouse and into a better place. There's options, Michael. It'll take a while, but we can do it."
"It's not the same…"
"Why not?" Mike challenged. The other didn't answer. "No, I mean it. Why not? If you're feeling like you're stuck and you're not enjoying life, then why not try to fix it? I can't guarantee it's going to fix everything, but it can be better."
Michael stared at the floor for a long moment before turning his head back to Mike with a look of thorough exhaustion.
"Because it doesn't matter how much new upholstery we put on it or how much we shine up the metal, I am never getting out of this suit alive."
Once more Mike was struck silent, and Michael took a few unsteady steps back before dropping down onto the couch. His head dropping into one hand, both mortified and exhausted from what just transpired.
It took a long moment for Mike to stop reeling long enough to consider his next actions. Not until now did he realize exactly how out of his league he was with this entire situation, but he had to make do with what he had. He was the one Michael had given this information to, that had to mean something. So, he sat alongside him on the couch, letting the moment sit a little longer before attempting to reach out.
"This is stupid question, but do you feel any better?" he asked.
"Yes," Michael muttered.
"Been keeping that bottled up a long time?"
Michael nodded into his hand.
"I figured as much… Do you want to talk it out?"
"I squandered the precious years I had as a human. Such a wasted life," Michael muttered. Then he shook his head and lowered his voice, "We shouldn't. Not now."
"No time like the present," Mike offered. He had a feeling that if Michael clammed up now, he wouldn't be able to get back in again.
In response, Michael pointed down, referencing and remembering the two still sitting downstairs. The two who Mike completely forgot about and who had probably heard at least some of that. "Good point."
"That's fine. You don't have to… Look, I think you should come home with us tonight. We can swing by the warehouse and grab whatever you need, but I don't think you should be alone, and Candy Cadet's not exactly good company."
"Do you really think the warehouse is the problem?" Michael asked with tired exasperation, pulling his hand away from his face.
"Yes," Mike immediately answered. "Just hear me out. I think you're spending too much time sitting in that room alone with your thoughts. I'm not saying that you're wrong or it's wrong to feel that way, but when you… when all you hear is your own voice telling yourself stuff like that over and over again, you start to internalize it." He looked to Michael, watching his grey optics study the floor. "…Maybe it's time you came home."
"There's nothing left there for me," Michael said.
"See, that's what I'm talking about. You say something like that, but do you really mean it? Because Mari's there. Charlie's there, Jeremy's there, hell, even I'm there sometimes, when I'm not peddling pizzas or breaking and entering," Mike said. Michael gave a humorless huff. "…I'm serious though. I don't think anything good will come out of you sitting there along in that office." Something shifted in his tone and with it did the feeling in the room.
Michael took notice and faced the increased tension head on. "What are you implying?"
"I don't know. You tell me… Or I guess you already did the night we met," Mike said with dead seriousness and a look to match.
It took Michael a minute to figure out what Mike was referencing, but then it came to him, and he absentmindedly rubbed his neck. He could still remember the feel of Mike's fingers reaching through the wires and decay before the whole world went to black. Before what felt like seconds afterwards, he opened his eyes to find himself in that maze. He thought it was purgatory when he first woke up, but he had been mistaken. It was hell.
But he didn't think it was going to sit with Mike for that long. He wondered how long he had worried about it, or if he had worried at all before this very moment. Not that there was anything to worry about. Due to that exact situation, Michael learned the error of his ways. He couldn't relinquish that much control or risk being at the mercy of an unsympathetic world.
"I won't make the same mistake twice," he finally said.
"I'm glad to hear it," Mike said with genuine relief at how smoothly he brushed off the suggestion.
There was a long silence between the two before Michael released a sigh or mimicked doing so. Though it did sound like something deflated inside of him.
"I seldom had thoughts like this before I became stagnant. If idle hands are the devil's workshop, then idle minds are where he writes his soliloquys… Perhaps I just need something more than television in my life."
"It's worth a shot," Mike said encouragingly. "And you know I'll have your back, and so will Ennard and Mari, and Foxy, and the rest."
Michael gave a slightly amused half-chuckle. "And what about Chance? Think you will wear him down enough to get him home?"
"Can't. One, I'm pretty sure he still hates my guts. Two, I can't risk him sleepwalking and eating Mari in the middle of the night. I'd have to gut him open with Charlie and Jeremy watching."
"I forgot about Jeremy and all of his take-ins… It would hardly be fair to them for me to intrude."
He was actually considering it, Mike realized. He doubled down.
"Don't worry about them. This isn't about them or Chance. It's about you," he insisted. His tone gentle and reassuring, but just firm enough to get his point across.
There was another long moment of silence. The two just sitting on the couch alongside one another in the quiet of the living room. The sun shining through the windows in a pleasant way that contrasted the otherwise gloomy conversation. Both had been up for most of the night and were likely feeling the effects. Mike realized in this moment, as he had once or twice before, that he and Michael shared some similarities beyond a name and some of a work history.
"…Why has Mari been asking around about Sammy? Does he think he found him?" Springtrap finally asked. It was clear from the shift in tone that he was trying to change the subject. Mike let it go and considered what he was going to say.
Michael had been honest with him. Even in his current state it only seemed right to return that honesty.
"When Mari faced Will at the lake, Will asked him if he was sure he was his son. After that Mari got in his head that maybe he's really Sammy and that they were swapped at some point. Personally, I think it was a load Will was dumping because that's what he did, but what's got Mari all wrapped up in this idea is the fact that he never found Sammy."
"That's insane…" Springtrap said. He stared distantly for a moment before snapping out of it. "But you're right. It was likely a tactic to get in Marion's head. Or just a cheap shot when he was down. He used to say the same thing to me."
"…That Mari was Sammy?" Mike asked with noticeable surprise.
"No, that Mom must've had an affair, because he was sure I wasn't his son. That I didn't look anything like him, that I didn't inherit any of his features or his intelligence."
"And yet you looked enough like him that you took the fall for him," Mike remarked. He briefly glanced over his suit while the other wasn't looking.
"What can I say? Father was a real class act," Springtrap spat bitterly. He turned his head enough to look at the man beside him. "I think he was trying to imply I was Henry's son. Jokes on him, I loved the idea."
"Ironic considering the only person in that house who would've had an affair with Henry was him," Mike said without really considering it. There was an extremely awkward pause.
"I hope you've never said that to Mari," Springtrap finally said.
"I haven't. I was waiting to get you alone."
"…That was actually pretty good. Tell Ben; don't tell Scott," he said. "…And while you're at it, you can tell them both that I'm spending tonight at your place."
Mike released a deep breath that he felt like he had been holding for ages.
"Consider it done."
Once Charlie finished up her visit with Chance- it lasted for nearly an hour, so Mike and Springtrap eventually turned on the TV for the rest of it- they left Fritz's house, Mike locking the door behind him, and they drove back to the warehouse. Charlie didn't mention if Chance recognized Michael's voice through the floor or thought it was just Gabe out of character. Frankly, Mike wasn't too concerned either way.
Springtrap went into the warehouse alone at his own request. Not to grab anything, he intended to be back in a few days- knowing Marionette would likely hold him hostage for two days at least. Three if he found out about the circumstances with the couch. It was just a vacation, not a true escape from this office. Which was fine by him. Solitude suffocating him or not, this was the closest thing he had to having something of his own.
Taking a look around at the office he had spent the last few months in he decided that, yes, he could handle a few days away. At least it would give him something new to look at. He turned off the television, the fan, the computer, and made sure everything was relatively in place before grabbing his pillow, the notebook off the desk, with a pen stuck in it, and his Handunit. The weight of the last item filling him with a familiar comfort.
He stepped out of the office and briefly acknowledged Candy Cadet. Turning towards him and making his intentions perfectly clear.
"I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm leaving now. I'm going to go spend a few days in my childhood home- of which I have nothing but bad memories- with my brother, his boyfriend, their co-worker, and a dozen or so animatronics who act like children and as far as I know do not require sleep. Pray for me."
With that, he turned and headed to the front of the warehouse. He didn't expect a response. He just assumed he wasn't even listening.
That was, until he was stopped in his tracks by a call from behind.
"Now I will tell you a story…"
Springtrap stopped in place, but that didn't stop the Candy Cadet from continuing into its charade.
"There once was a bird with beautiful feathers. The bird was so beautiful that those who saw it would throw it the best breadcrumbs and give it many praises. That made the bird vain. When it came time for the bird to build a nest, it did not want to jeopardize its feathers by seeking the best twigs and leaves. Instead, it plucked them off the ground and the nest it built was dirty and unsafe. When the eggs hatched, they too were beautiful birds, but it was not long before their feathers were stained by the nest-."
"Give it a rest and just be out with it," Springtrap interrupted with a sigh. He wasn't in the mood for riddles and metaphors, he much preferred some amount of directness.
"Michael."
And there it was, and it was more jarring than he expected. Not just that he had answered but how he had. Candy Cadet very rarely addressed him directly. Or that was, the voice of the one pulling Candy Cadet's strings seldom spoke directly to him. He turned back suddenly to look at the faceless animatronic. The colored lights flashing across its form as though it was preparing to tell a story. Though in this case it seemed much too lucid to do so.
"I am proud of you."
That was even more jarring. Praise was one of those few things that made Springtrap immediately suspicious, but in this case, he assumed there were no ulterior motives. He just let it be what it was, an honest comment.
"I haven't done it yet, but thank you I suppose," Springtrap answered. He paused a long moment for tiredly asking, "Have I really gotten to the point where this is worth being proud of?"
"Every step is worth being proud of," he said, the Candy Cadet still flashing in a rhythm to music that wasn't there. "Do not worry about me. I will be fine."
"Will you be watching me the whole time?" he asked. He tried to make it sound like exasperation, but it was forced.
"Do you want me to?"
"Not until I get my act together," he said, betraying the still lingering self-consciousness. Both at being found out by Mike and Charlie and now knowing that they weren't the only ones who noticed.
Candy Cadet let out a crunchy beep and he took it as a signal of agreeing. He sluggishly turned away and went to continue on before pausing again and turning back around.
"You should know that Marion's looking for Sammy," he said. The Candy Cadet's constant humming momentarily faltered at this.
"…I am aware," the voice quietly conceded. "…I worry about him too. He seems troubled."
"I would be more worried if he wasn't," Springtrap said wearily. "Just giving you a head's up."
In fact, he was positively certain that he already did.
"I'm leaving," Springtrap said.
"Take care of yourself. For once, put yourself first."
"Don't be overdramatic. I'm spending the weekend at my brother's, not entering rehab," Springtrap scoffed. He continued heading out to the door, listening as Candy Cadet started to power down behind him.
Its voices overlapped into one. The dull drone of "Candy. I sell candy. I am the Candy cadet," slowly covering up the final, "Just remember that you are never alone," before both trailed off and the Candy Cadet relaxed its body once more.
The lonesome feeling of the warehouse fell in once more and Springtrap stood there between the shelves. He recovered quickly and made his way to the front door and soon out of it.
No time like the present.
The late lunch had gone well, and Natalie and Ness were now making their way back to the Fazbear Entertainment office building. The windows were rolled down and the mood was quite pleasant, with Ness singing under her breath and tapping her deep blue fingernails on the edge of the window.
"Into the jalopy, gonna go for a ride. To the pizza shop with our fri-ie-iends~," she murmured. No doubt a song from the Pizzaplex's roster considering that while they were at lunch, she mentioned that the office workers frequently had to listen to Pizzaplex music and songs sung by the Glamrocks, using at Wight's request and to ask them their opinions. That alone was almost enough to make the nightshift seem desirable.
They pulled up into the parking lot. Natalie glanced at Ness in time to see a disappointed look pass her face, but it disappeared quickly. She started rolling up the window and pulled rainbow macramé bag off the floorspace and into her lap. She was preparing to go, and Natalie probably didn't need to walk her in, so this was where they would say goodbye for now.
"I had a really good time! We've got to do this again, maybe this weekend? I mean, we obviously won't be doing our nails again that fast, but we could do lunch again- or get our hair done! Just, uh, somewhere that's not the Pizzaplex. Their salon prices are crazy. Probably making up for all the money spent on gas! Or whatever the go-karts run on. I haven't really asked," Ness said. Natalie could tell she was getting nervous by how she was starting to ramble.
"Sounds great, but maybe we shouldn't try to do our own hair?" she suggested teasingly. Ness got a lopsided smile and readily agreed. "You know, you could probably stay over at Freddy's with me some night. You're an employee so it shouldn't be a big deal, and you could get a good look at the place when it's not swamped by people. What do you say?"
It was almost comical how quickly Ness froze up at the suggestion. The smile came back but now it was tinged with a nervousness, as with the slight fumbling of her words.
"Oh, I don't know about that. I think that might be pushing it a little. With management, I meant. I'm down for a sleepover pretty much anywhere else. Some nights we almost have 'em in here," she said, pointing a thumb back at the office building. "Besides, I hear the animatronics get a little quirky at night," she added.
"No, really? Who said that?" Natalie asked jokingly.
"Chaz. He says it a lot," Ness said equally playfully.
While Natalie was left wondering what exactly this 'special voice' was, Ness gave a little wave and started to head towards the door. "See you around!" she called. She had a bounce to her step as she pulled open the door and headed inside.
Natalie waved back before turning to drive off. She was still smiling but it started to fall by time she was pulling out of the parking lot. It was replaced with a pensive frown once she was out on the highway.
She had agreed to the impromptu day out despite the fact that she had been starting to suspect that Ness was the woman in the rabbit suit. There wasn't much evidence for this suspicion, just a paranoid feeling that made it hard to trust anyone. Especially someone who worked in Freddy's and knew a little too much about her current situation. It was nothing but a thought, a concern, but enough to have her digging through her closet. In hindsight, not her brightest hour.
All today had proven was that Ness was a sweet but awkward person who had trouble speaking up for herself. That should've reassured Natalie that her suspicions were unfounded.
Yet all that it had done was cemented them. Now that she was alone, she could put all the puzzle pieces together and the picture was becoming even more clear.
Ness said herself that she felt trapped in her job, that she couldn't leave, and it seemed like the only person she regularly talked to she couldn't open up to. It was also possible that she was hiding all of this from her partner.
Ness also did not like the changes implemented to the Pizzaplex and how different it was to the traditional Freddy's. She also knew a lot about the old Freddy's, which meant it was likely that she was aware of the kidnapper in a rabbit suit.
Perhaps this whole rabbit woman charade was an homage to that. Not in the way of a copycat, but perhaps an elaborate ruse for some other reason. Perhaps an effort to sabotage Freddy's. It would explain why the rabbit woman just kept popping up, trying to scare her, and then disappeared. Maybe she was baiting Natalie to write a report on her, maybe that would get her feelings across when words didn't do so.
It would also explain how startled she had gotten when that taser had been thrust towards her. Ness definitely didn't seem like the type to be handle that amount of confrontation. It was one thing pretending under the safety of a full-body suit, it was another altogether to be threatened with a weapon. Natalie didn't necessarily think that was the wrong choice considering the situation, but this was maybe shedding a new light on the incident.
If this was true, this changed everything. Though she couldn't be sure. She thought the woman in the rabbit suit was a little taller than Ness, though it was hard to tell with the round bunny head. Maybe it was worth checking the security footage the next time she showed up to get a closer eye on the situation. Body language could out Ness instantly in the right circumstances.
She didn't know. All she knew was that she wanted to get home and spend what time with Fritz she could get before she had to head to the Pizzaplex. Decompressing with a little cooking sounded like a good idea, and she wanted to make sure Fritz was eating something other than pizza tonight. Even if she probably wasn't going to eat much after such a late lunch.
For now, Natalie could only wait… and see if Ness would take her up on her offer.
By time Mike had gotten home he was feeling worn out. Maybe even as worn out as if he had gone to work, considering that he got home after the Pizzeria had closed. He hadn't expected Marionette and Jeremy to be home yet, but when he saw the latter's car in the driveway, he naturally assumed they had probably just cleaned up quickly and came home. It made sense; while to a lesser extent, Jeremy had also been out all night.
If Springtrap was getting nervous by time they pulled up, then he didn't show it. Instead, he was slinked down, briefly peering out the window to make sure nobody was watching from outside. Somehow, the return of his paranoia was assuring.
It didn't take too long to get both him and Charlie into the house. Though the reactions they received were widely different. Jeremy's little orphans were all confined amongst the living room and Daisy, the would-be leader, popped up to eagerly greet Charlie with a little dance and giggle. Jeremy was in the kitchen trying to open a family sized box of microwaveable chicken parmesan.
Then in walked Springtrap and the room got eerily silent. He was used to this reaction, including the eyes peeking over the back of the couch. He pretended to not notice Balloon Boy's unblinking stare.
"Hey, Michael! I didn't know you were coming by," Jeremy greeted, unphased. Much more phased by the fact that he was having so much trouble with the box. "How's it going?"
"It goes until it stops," Springtrap replied.
"Most things do, like work," Jeremy agreed. He turned his attention to Mike who was hanging up his jacket. "Mari was feeling tired, so he went to lay down."
"Kids wore him out?" Mike asked. The blond nodded with a sympathetic smile, having witnessed it firsthand. "I'll go check on him." He looked to Springtrap who nodded in agreement.
"Want some of this?" Jeremy flashed him the now open box.
"Sure, thanks. Just leave it in the microwave for me." He then headed down the hall towards the master bedroom.
With him gone, Springtrap felt significantly more out of place. Not that he had issues with Jeremy or that Charlie wasn't company enough, but between the staring and being back in this house, he felt more uncomfortable than usual. Which was saying a lot considering that just looking at himself in the mirror felt like an out of body experience. Looking at the familiar dining room table and kitchen flooring he longed for the ceiling of the office to stare at instead.
He scrambled for any subject of conversation. "How was Gabe?"
"On the phone with Freddy all night," Jeremy said. His voice broken up by the beeps of the microwave buttons.
"…We all do realize that might be a problem, right?" Springtrap asked. He looked between him and Charlie. "Gabe getting a little too close to Freddy. That could come back to haunt us."
"Oh yeah, but Freddy's not what I'm worried about," Jeremy said with slight worry slipping past his nonchalance. "I'm way more worried about that gator guy. You know Foxy; if someone punches first then he's doing everything in his power to make sure he's punching last… And with that hook, he's taking out an eye, and then we're looking at a lawsuit."
"I'm sure that alligator has appropriate legal representation," Springtrap said flatly. Charlie gave him a slight look.
"Freddy's alright. He had our back last night when we needed him. He's just a little…" She made a fluttery motion with her hand beside her head. "Out there."
"Freddy regularly tours the galaxy," Jeremy chimed in.
"Ah. Sounds pleasant," Springtrap remarked.
Before he could say anything more, he felt a tapping on his leg and looked down. What stood beside him was what looked like it could've been his own little doppelganger with how beat up it was and being that it was a yellowed little rabbit. He remembered someone mentioning Plushtrap so he knew what it was, but just looking at it he recognized it as one of those little Bonnie dolls with the chattering jaws and kicking feet who were advertised to walk on their own.
Unlike the ones he had seen though, this one managed to stay up on its feet. Its little mouth chattered as it looked up at him, its hands clasping together beneath its jaw. It looked so in awe of him. Likely not a victim of this suit, it innocently just assumed they were the same model, or perhaps that he was just a bigger version, or hopefully wasn't confused enough to think that he was its father.
It was a little endearing. Only held back by its appearance, though Springtrap didn't have any grounds in that department. He leaned down, ignoring the crusty squeak in his springlocks, and reached down to pat the little rabbit on the head, treating it like the child it once was. Plushtrap was so excited that his whole body seemed to vibrate in place- from his clamping jaw, of course- and he proceeded to plant himself right beside Springtrap for the rest of the night.
Meanwhile, Mike quietly let himself into the bedroom. The lights were off but the light from the opened door illuminated the room enough to see Marionette laying on the bed. He laid atop the covers with his face turned into the pillows and his arm hooked around his large Freddy plush, which was currently taking up Mike's side of the bed. The music box lay open at the foot of the bed, playing its soft melody.
He smiled at the sight and stepped into the room, quietly shutting the door behind him, and kicking off his shoes. He could still somewhat see from the soft light coming through the curtained windows and used that to make his way around the foot of the bed. He got on the bed on the other side, atop the comforter too, and laid down behind him. He wrapped his arms around the soft, slender body and pulled him to his chest.
Marionette made a pleasant trill in his sleep and squeezed the bear tighter.
"Very cute," Mike thought with a smile. The children must've worn him out today if he hadn't already been worn out after the night before. He needed as much rest as he could get.
While he could get it, Mike begrudgingly realized. He exhaled deeply and relaxed. The cool, dark room and the soft, familiar lullaby were all so soothing. He could've fallen asleep right then under normal circumstances. If his mind wasn't so full.
"What am I even going to tell him? 'Hey, Stripes! Guess what? Your brother hates his life and won't leave his couch. Oh, and the Moon? Yeah, he can hypnotize other animatronics and already tried it on Charlie.' A double whammy. He might break a comb from stress if he doesn't just overheat and catch fire on the spot."
Usually, cynical thoughts like that were just exaggerations to ease the tension. In this case just thinking about those possibilities was stressing him out. Both just sounded a little too likely. Mike hugged Marionette closer and pressed a kiss to his neck. The puppet shifted a little bit and chimed. If not for the music box, he would've probably been awake by now. Mike took the opportunity to steal another quick kiss.
"I'll just break it to him carefully… Maybe not both at the same time either. I'll just tell him that Michael needs some time away from the warehouse. Mari's intuitive enough to pick up the rest without me having to spell it out. It spares me having to break Michael's trust too," Mike thought. "Maybe Charlie can help me break the news about the Moon to him… Maybe not tonight. We'll aim for tomorrow."
Probably for the best considering how comfortable the bed felt. He wasn't even sure if it was worth getting back up to eat dinner honestly. It would probably stay fine. It had to take more than one night to get food poisoning worthy.
As relaxed and comfortable as Mike was, he didn't fall asleep. He was still awake but finally managed to quiet the thoughts enough to settle into a comfortable lull. Everything was where it should be, and he felt separated from it all.
Eventually the music box started to wind down. He considered just letting it run out without winding it back up but decided it wasn't worth the risk of waking Marionette just because he felt lazy. So, he carefully pulled his arms back from the puppet and climbed down the bed to sit on the foot. By now the box had fallen silent and he pulled it into his lap and began to wind it up, trying to be as quiet as possible. One crank, two cranks, three…
He felt a soft shift on the bed behind him and a pair of arms looped around his middle. Mike smiled and watched one of the clever black hands shut the music back and push it aside. He set it aside on the foot before being pulled back on the bed, following along until he was back up at the pillows and enwrapped by his puppet companion. He found himself taking the place of the bear who had taken his place, much to his amusement.
Striped legs hooked around his own as white buttons pressed against his chest. Marionette had a brilliant smile as he wrapped one arm around Mike's back while the other hook upwards so he could pet his messy hair. He stole a chaste kiss and drew back with a playful smile and waited expectantly. Mike's smile tugged slyly and he leaned in. He cradled the back of Marionette's neck with his hand and pulled them together for a longer union.
There went any concern of having Marionette wake up and having to jump immediately into a conversation about everything. In fact, there went any concern or care about anything that wasn't currently in his arms. Something about ethereal porcelain did that to him. He ran a hand along Marionette's back and reveled in how the soft fabric made his palm tingle. He then pressed his hand flat against the fabric to feel the thrumming of the music box inside.
For a while they stayed like that, stealing small kisses in the dark. Miles away from anyone else including those only a few feet down the hall. It could've lasted forever and Mike wouldn't have complained.
Eventually the kisses slowed and the two cuddled up together.
"How was your day?" Mike asked. From Marionette's especially lovey-dovey behavior he guessed it had been a good one.
"Wonderful. Yours, Love?"
Well, that was a loaded question.
"Long," Mike said. The Puppet gave him an apologetic hum and continued playing with his hair. Mike sighed at the sensation in his scalp. "But we got stuff done. Brought everyone outside of Foxy's up to speed; we stopped in to see Michael and he came with us to Scott's, ran into Carlton, got to see the pictures he took- got a cute one of you, by the way- stopped at Fritz's, let Charlie break the news to Chance, and came home."
"That sounds like a very productive day," Marionette complimented.
"Yeah," Mike agreed. "…" He readjusted his arms to pull him in a little more securely. "Michael was a little down."
"He was?" So quickly that relaxed tone softened into concern.
"A little. So, he came home with us. He's probably out there wrestling the remote out of Max's hand right now."
"You got him to come home with you? That's great!" Marionette chimed excitedly. Relief flooded his voice and he shifted to lace his fingers together behind Mike's back, fully listening. "How long do you think he's staying?"
"Until we wake up one morning to find he's snuck out the window," Mike cracked. Also relieved, but for different reason. He could give him rest of the details later.
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. I'll keep a VERY close eye," Marionette said in a mock-sinister tone. The lights in his eyes flickering to punctuate the point.
Mike was aghast. "But- But Mari, you're supposed to keep your eye on me. What if I get into trouble?"
Marionette's laugh mixed melodically with his trilling before he sent a playful little retort, "You are trouble."
Mike clicked his tongue and winked, immediately drawing out another laugh. He couldn't help himself; he leaned in and kissed the 'chin' of Marionette's mask even while he was still trembling.
"I love you," he said against fabric and porcelain.
The delighted trilling lowered into a warm mechanical purr.
"I love you too," Marionette returned. "…Do you think Michael will mind if we stay back here for a while?"
"I think he'll be okay," Mike assured. Though he wasn't sure, he doubted a short nap- or perhaps a full night's sleep if they didn't get up at all- would be a problem. Though that could've just been his subconscious convincing him to stay right where he was, comfortable and totally preoccupied.
They could talk later, they mutually decided as they fell back into a comfortable silence. For now, they just needed each other.
Mable: They finally got up at two in the morning so Mari could watch Mike eat a piece of microwaved chicken.