Mable: After every long night is a day after...
Going Home in a Box
Chapter Fifty-Seven
The van ride home was mostly uneventful. Foxy talked about bowling with Freddy to pass the time, Charlie talked about her time in the arcade with Baby, and both Marionette and Fritz mostly listened in. Marionette more content to listen to the highlights of the evening while Fritz was trying to keep focused on the road. Towards the end of the drive the conversation tapered off and had stayed that way until Fritz reignited it only a few streets away from home.
"I hope that kid's going to be alright," he said with a sigh. Obviously meaning Gregory.
"He will. Freddy's gonna keep a close eye on him fer now on," Foxy assured confidently. Him leaned back on a bunched-up tarp with his arms and legs crossed. "He might be a little too trusting, but he ain't stupid. Things'll be changing on how he watches the lad."
"And Gregory's quite the opposite. He's very smart and because of that very cautious of new people. Understandably so considering the circumstances. It takes him a while to warm up to someone, and you opening the door to him was the first step," Marionette said.
"Maybe. I just feel like I should've done more. Maybe I should've been the one to make the offer," Fritz said.
"Coulda, but it wouldn't've changed a thing. Seems like Freddy's the only person who might've convinced him into that," Foxy said matter-of-factly.
"Plus, if you would've pushed any harder Gregory would've only become more defensive. I think it was a great idea to offer though, because now he might be a little more open to it in the future. That is, if it comes to a point where there's no other choice."
Fritz did agree with this. Though it was clear that he still had a lot of thoughts. Thankfully it was then that they turned onto the road and soon pulled up outside the house.
"Here's your stop," Fritz announced.
"Thanks for the lift. And for putting up with the craziness tonight. I swear it's not usually this bad," Charlie said apologetically. He waved dismissively.
"It's my fault choosing to come in the same night the circus was in town," he joked. He looked into the rearview mirror and into the back. "You staying or going, Foxy?"
"Eh, I gotta head back to the pizzeria. It's gonna be an early mornin' tomorrow," Foxy said, making no attempt to move from his position.
"Are you sure? We can drive you over in the morning," Marionette offered.
"Believe me, I'd love to, Lad. But I need as much sleep as I can get, and I can squeeze out a few more minutes cutting out the commute," Foxy said. He reached out and gave him an assuring pat on the shoulder. Marionette smiled and chimed, returning the pat on his hand.
"Get some sleep," he encouraged. Then he grabbed up his bag of merchandise and whisked himself into the house. He got the door unlocked just in time for Charlie to come speeding in.
He closed the door quickly behind her and locked it while she pulled back her hood and walked over to the back of the couch. She looked over it and down to see Michael sleeping there. His head turned towards her, but his eyes closed, one arm across his chest, and Moppet curled up on his legs. She looked up at Charlie as she walked up but made no move to get up, and Charlie didn't dare risk stirring Michael by reaching for her.
Instead, she turned around and made a sleeping motion with her hands and head. Marionette caught the gest, stealing a glance over the back of the couch as he passed by and headed into the hallway, smiling contently as he did. He spared a wave in Max's direction, who still was awake, and Max acknowledged him with a shake of his arm. The remote still clasped in his hand.
"You should head on to bed too. I'm going to be up a little longer washing these off, so don't mind me," Marionette whispered, holding up the bag of merchandise.
"But you're not going to stay up all night, right?" Charlie double-checked.
"Not if I can help it!" he chirped. She gave him an unamused look and he chimed. "I'll be off to bed as soon as I'm done," he promised, laying a hand on her shoulder. He then gently guided her along. "Good night, Charlie."
"Night," Charlie replied. She patted his hand, almost how he had done to Foxy, and continued down the hall. She stole a look back once she was almost at the door, but he was already carefully closing the bathroom door behind him. She had a funny feeling about him but decided to give him his space and headed into her bedroom.
Marionette meanwhile opened the bag on the bathroom floor and quickly sorted what he could clean from what he couldn't. Paper goods were out of the question, but the mugs, toys, and even plushies could all be washed by hand. The bathroom was the perfect place to do this due to all the cleaners in the cabinet under the sink, which he turned and opened before collecting some bottles out of it. He even pulled out the spray to clean the sink out afterwards.
Marionette lined up a few things on the edge of the sink and prepared to get to washing. This was what he really needed, something to do to clear his head before bed. He picked up the mug first and began to wash it, only to notice a thin crack down its side.
That was a shame. It probably wouldn't be safe to use ever again. Then again, considering where he found it, it likely already wasn't. That was fine. He could clean it and put it somewhere instead. That was a fine alternative.
Just a single crack, nobody would notice. Not like the cracks across Chica's body. Many of them had been fixed from his knowledge, but not her face. Her face had been the most garish part. A broken pit in the center of her head. Her colorful and kid-friendly exterior broken apart to reveal the metal underneath. They would find her like that tomorrow. Just like they did back at Chica's Party World.
What had happened to her after that was a mystery. She was sold apparently, but had she been repaired beforehand or stuck in a warehouse unfinished until she was bot and refitted with her new casing? The same thing that had happened to his bandmates, the Toys, ones he thought he was protecting before Freddy's stepped in and showed them all how powerless they really were. Tools to be replaced and reformatted at will.
Would Chica be fixed or replaced, he wondered. It seemed like they had the means to fix them, but they hadn't fixed Jake. They tried to but he kept winding up broken- at his own hands- until they decided it wasn't worth trying any longer. Then they replaced him with the closest thing, and now Jake was stuck in a prison of their design and Andrew was stuck with the burden of the Sun and the Moon, and the programming to keep both in line.
Why would Jake hurt himself? Marionette knew it was a pointless question to obsess over, but he couldn't help it, and he couldn't ask it. Did his existence hurt that much? Marionette hadn't really thought about it, but there were plenty of animatronics he could think of who at one point or another were in a fate worse than death. Stuck with broken bodies and trapped in an impossibly hopeless situation.
He was so scared for Bonnie. Of what they did to Bonnie. He wouldn't just disappear- animatronics didn't just disappear. Fazbear Entertainment dealt with them, and Bonnie was a liability.
He should've looked better. He could still be down there in the garbage. Alone.
A glob of purple landed on the mug that he had been washing for the last five minutes straight. He stared at it, then lifted his head and looked into the mirror. He knew he was crying even before he saw how much was coming down his mask.
Marionette calmly set the mug down in the sink before turning and grabbing a towel out of the hamper. He then sat down on the closed toilet, pressed his face into the bundled-up towel, and wept. The towel muffled his sobs as he wept out every feeling he could. He cried for Chica, for Gregory, for Jake and Andrew, for Freddy and especially for Bonnie, until his ectoplasmic tears filled the fabric. He let out everything as quietly as he could.
By time he dropped the towel off his face and into his lap he was exhausted. He could feel the dampness all over his mask and slouched forward enough to catch anything left dripping off into the mask. He couldn't say he felt much better, but he at least didn't feel quite so overwhelmed. A physical manifestation of those feelings emptied into the towel below him.
He reached over and turned on the bathtub until it was filled a few inches and then laid out the towel in it to soak. Again, the tears seldom stained, but he didn't want to risk anyone by turning on the washer this late. This was the best he felt like doing right now. He made a mental note to come back and finish up before anyone had to use the shower and then shut the curtain.
But by then Marionette was too exhausted to do much else. He put the items back in the bag- save the mug that he dried and set aside- quickly sprayed out the sink, disinfected himself, and left the bathroom. He put the bag on the washing machine for tomorrow and then headed into the bedroom.
Mike was fast asleep, as expected. Marionette smiled a little as he drifted to the other side and slipped into bed. Quickly sliding in beside Mike and pressing his freshly cleaned mask against his warm shoulder.
Apparently, Mike wasn't in as deep of a sleep as he expected as he turned over and pulled him in. Marionette eagerly accepted and returned the embrace, snuggling in.
"You sure you don't want me to go with you?" Mike groggily asked.
Marionette gave a bemused smile and chime. "I think it's a little too late for that."
"You sure? I can get dressed pretty fast," Mike insisted.
"Mike, I just got back."
"…What?" He started to wake up a little more at that, turning to look over his shoulder at the alarm clock. "…Guess I must've slept then," he said. He turned back over and pulled Marionette in again. "How'd it go?"
"It didn't go as smoothly as I hoped," Marionette confessed.
He wanted to leave it at that, he truly did, but his body began to betray him. He started to feel it creeping up in his spools and at his eyes. All those thoughts he had come back in droves. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to keep crying, but if he withheld and fought it back, he was at a risk of that heat flaring back up. He didn't want to hide in the bathroom and both options seemed to turn to that if he wanted to keep the peace.
"Mari?" Mike noticed he was starting to tremble a little. "…What happened?"
At his gentle voice, Marionette somewhat crumbled and buried his face into his shoulder. Clinging on like his life depended on it.
"It was just- it was just awful," Marionette said. His music box twanging and his voice hitching and dropping. Despite what he wanted; he began to cry again. Though nowhere near the heavy sobs from the bathroom.
That was all it took for Mike to change his mind and his tactic.
"Forget it. It can wait," he said. He pulled Marionette securely into his arms and tucked his head against his chest. "It's all over now, Doll. You're home and safe. That's all that matters."
Marionette wished that was true. He knew how lucky they had gotten to get everyone out and appreciated that, but it was hard to be thankful when there was so much else piling up. The big picture clouded up the little blessings.
But Mike was always a comfort. He always knew just the way to hold him and hum to him to make him feels safe and loved. It didn't take long for those assurances to take the edge off. Especially when Mike changed tactics again, his humming turning to soft singing.
"Stick with me and I'll stick with you, and there's nothing we can't do. No, no, I've got you. And I'm never letting go-oh no,~" Mike sung to him. Some sappy song that had been circling on the radio, one which he was sure he could've cracked a joke at, but it was the first thing he could think of that was somewhat fitting for what he wanted to say.
He could feel Marionette slowly starting to relax. Soon the trembling stopped and the slight dampness leaking past the neck of his t-shirt was just that, slight. It was helping but he wasn't there yet. He needed something better than a cheesy love song.
"…Pizza maaan! Pushing eighty-five in a thirty zone!~"
It caught Marionette so off-guard that he made a noise less like a chime and more like a hiccup. He pulled back to shoot him another bemused look even with his lower face stained with tears. Mike leaned in and caught his lips in a playful but impassioned kiss.
He could tell how much Marionette needed it by how quickly his hand caught the back of his head, petting his hair and holding him still a moment or too longer than initially intended. Not that Mike was complaining. He caught a breath and returned again, and again. Until his target wasn't just his lips, but his cheeks. Across his damp stripes and right in the center, where his mask lacked a nose. Everything he could reach he kissed and listened as Marionette nearly vibrated with trills.
He wanted to keep him distracted. He wanted to make him forget whatever it was that happened for as long as he could.
Eventually he drew back to wipe away the smeared tears and trace over the side of his mask. Marionette was finally smiling comfortably at least.
"You're very charming, Mike," he said. His voice still somewhat crunchy but no longer nearly as distraught.
"I know," Mike replied.
As relaxed as Mike seemed though, he was far from it. He was basically putting on a brave face for Marionette, but behind that smile and the playful glint to his eyes, he was inwardly panicking on how bad 'awful' was to make him cry with such little provocation. He wasn't exactly a stranger to seeing Marionette cry, but he had learned not to take it lightly. Whatever happened must've thrown him through a serious loop.
"…Thank you," Marionette earnestly continued. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to wake you up with this."
"You know that's what I'm here for," Mike said with much more affirmation.
"It was such a long night…" he said. His voice tired and drained.
"You can tell me in the morning. Don't worry about it tonight," Mike reaffirmed, back to tracing little circles around his cheek. A mild smile graced the mask.
"Mike, it is morning."
"Not until I have to get up it's not."
Marionette chuckled a bit and slid in once more. Arms wrapping tightly around Mike's back as he tucked his against his shoulder and the pillow, settling himself into a comfortable position. Mike continued to pet him a little longer before lowering his arm to hold him close.
And then proceeded to silently sit there going over every worst-case scenario of every person who went into that Pizzaplex until eventually the warmth lulled him back to sleep.
…
It felt like no time at all before the alarm went off. Mike remembered the night before as soon as he woke up still tangled with Marionette. He managed to free himself enough to reach back and hit the snooze, if just to get the alarm off as fast as possible. He then rolled back into place, pulling Marionette back against him with a comforting squeeze.
A low chime rung through Marionette's chest as he stretched his arms behind Mike's back, then tiredly dropped them back into a hug. Very cute; very heartwarming.
"Morning, Mari," he murmured.
Marionette returned with a greeting hum, perhaps too tired for a full response. Mike sympathized and kissed him on the temple.
"Get some more sleep. I'm going to get up and get ready," he assured him.
Marionette gave a fussy little twang. "Can't take the day off. Foxy needs me," he insisted.
"I'm not going to fight you, but you're going to at least sleep until we leave. That'll be three quarters of an hour at least. I'll come get you before I head out the door," Mike rebutted. To which Marionette gave a nod without argument.
Mike turned and shut off the alarm properly before laying back down with his puppet, deciding to sacrifice ten of those minutes to lulling him back to a relaxed state.
Then he slowly slid out of his grasp, carefully got out of bed, and grabbed his clothes for the day before heading out the door and quietly shutting it behind him.
It wasn't until Mike was getting dressed in the bathroom that he realized he was feeling a lot more rested than usual. He felt more awake and alert, to the point where the slight grogginess was barely noticeable, and probably a product of oversleeping instead of one of under. He could still do a cup of coffee, but today it wouldn't be because he needed it but because he wanted it. Coffee always tasted better as a choice instead of a quick chug to take the edge off a long night.
Though by time he headed into the kitchen he changed his mind. Maybe a healthier alternative was in order. There were protein shakes and orange juice in the fridge, and he headed in that direction instead of the coffee maker.
Jeremy was sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal while Springtrap was standing beside the table, leaning over and talking to him. Mike greeted them with a simple, "Hey," and stepped behind Jeremy's chair to open the fridge and look around. He almost grabbed a soda by reflex, but then buckled down and grabbed the bottle of orange juice instead.
As he passed, Jeremy had looked to him and gave a muffled hum through a mouthful of flakes. He then pointed at Mike's back with his spoon. Springtrap, whose eyes had locked onto Mike's back, nodded and followed him to the counter, standing beside him.
"Good morning, Mike. Did Marion tell you what happened last night?" Springtrap asked bluntly.
Mike arched his brow questioningly while pouring his juice. "No, what?" he asked and then took a swig.
"That's what we're trying to figure out," Springtrap clarified.
He reached back towards Jeremy who handed over a plastic mug and then silently placed it on the counter beside Mike. He quirked a brow yet again, briefly looking at the mug he still rested his hand on, then up to Springtrap questioningly. The rabbit silently stared back, waiting for something. Mike shrugged and reached for the orange juice container.
"Well, okay. If you really want to try it," he quipped. He went to pour it into the mug but before he could do so, Springtrap turned the mug to face him.
That's when he saw the decal on the mug. That's when he saw the indigo rabbit staring back at him.
That was a mug from the Pizzaplex, and it had Bonnie on it.
Mike snatched up the mug and stared at it in disbelief, slowly setting down the carton with his other hand. All the while Springtrap said nothing, as he knew he didn't have to. If a picture was worth a thousand words, and the one on that mug could write a memoir.
"Do you know what this is?!" Mike finally said. Finally looking up from the one rabbit and to the other.
"It looks like the Bonnie that Wight said they didn't have," Springtrap said matter-of-factly, and bitterly to boot.
"Yeah, that exactly," Mike agreed with just as much viscera. He thumped the mug down on the counter. "I knew something was up with that whole Bunny Bowling Alley situation."
"We're still trying to figure out what happened last night. Did Mari say anything?" Jeremy asked.
"Not much, but I knew something happened. He was upset when he came to bed last night. Said it was an 'awful night', and considering our standards that must've been pretty bad," Mike answered. "Have you called Foxy?"
"I tried, but he didn't pick up. He's probably still asleep."
"Same with Scott. I called them a half-hour ago and only got a recording," Springtrap said. "Which either means they're all still asleep or something much worse happened."
"I don't think Mari would've come home and got into bed unless he knew everyone was home. I checked in and Charlie's here too, so I'm guessing they all made it," Jeremy said.
"Mari waved when he got home, so I'd say losing a man isn't what happened," Max called from the living room. "…Unless it was Bonnie. Poor guy never stood a chance."
"I'll call Fritz," Mike offered. He got as far as two steps before slowing to a stop. "…No, I shouldn't. Him and Natalie might've just gotten to sleep. I'm not going to wake them up."
"Did they say anything to you?" Springtrap called back to Max.
"Not a word, just a wave," Max returned.
"I might have an idea what happened last night."
Somehow in the calling and talking the three hadn't noticed Charlie wander up until she drew attention to herself. They all looked to her in an instant.
"Morning, Sunshine. Didn't expect to see you up so soon," Mike greeted. "We wake you up?"
"No, I've been up a few minutes. But did someone open my door earlier?"
"That was me," Jeremy said, raising a hand. "Sorry, just checking in."
"No worries. I was planning on getting up anyway," Charlie assured with a smile. One that soon after faltered a little. "Sooo, last night might've been a long one. Where do I even begin?"
"At the beginning," Springtrap said.
"With this," Mike said at exactly the same time, lifting the mug for emphasis.
The two then exchanging a look, Mike's rather nonchalant and Springtrap's less than amused.
"…I'll start somewhere in the middle. If we start at the beginning, we'll be here all day," Charlie said. "So, that is a mug from Glamrock Bonnie. We found a whole mound of Bonnie stuff when we were looking for Chica and Baby in the basement-… Scratch that, let me start at the beginning. So, we got there, and everything seemed to be going okay until we caught Chica tearing up Gregory's hiding spot. Baby and Ennard stayed behind to let Baby blow off some steam and Gregory must've heard her say she didn't like Chica, because he asked her if she would help him scare her and get her off his back."
"Oh, dear God. I see what went wrong," Springtrap muttered.
"Well, no, you don't. Because Baby turned him down," Charlie said. Springtrap looked mildly surprised. "…But Ennard took the bait." Springtrap rolled his eyes back into his head and closed them, making his feelings very clear. "So… From what I know, Ennard and Gregory got some sort of pizza flavored sauce, put it on a pizza, and lured Chica into the kitchen. Ennard tried to scare her, but little did he know that it wasn't pizza she was in the mood for."
Mike's brows shot up.
"She tried to eat him," Charlie clarified. They slightly lowered, still surprised but no longer that much. Springtrap looked a little startled by it and was biting at the bit to ask, but Charlie answered his question. "She didn't! He's okay… because Baby followed them and that's how it got out that Glamrock Chica is actually Funtime Chica, the Chica Baby ate back at Chica's Party World."
"She was alive?!" Jeremy asked.
"Yes, she was. Baby didn't know."
"Whoa. That's… That must've been bad," Jeremy trailed off. He stirred his cereal absentmindedly as he considered what that must've been like, and grimaced.
"It was, and there was a fight. In Baby's defense Chica sort of went in swinging, but also… yeah, it makes sense why she did. When they were fighting, Chica threw Baby into this giant trash compactor and then she fell in too. Well, sort of. I kind of got the impression that maybe Ennard was covering, and that Gregory pushed her in. I don't know how he could, but he was pretty outright with everything but then got weirdly quiet about how she fell in, and I don't think Ennard would've lied. He could've, but I don't know."
"And then?" Springtrap asked.
"And then… Chica got crushed in a trash compactor and both of them got dumped into the garbage," Charlie raced out.
"Oh, Christ," Mike hissed. Suddenly he got a very clear image of what awful was, and it wasn't Bonnie the Bunny. That's for sure.
Springtrap wasn't taking it much better, eyes wide and staring in shock as he processed it. Not Chica's fate, he would process the implications of that later, but Baby's- Lizzie's. "But Liz-?!"
"She's okay!" Charlie was quick to assure. "Baby wasn't hurt. I mean, she might've bruised her ego a little falling into garbage, but that's it."
Springtrap put a hand to his chest and made a slightly faltering motion, one almost like a sigh of relief.
"But that wasn't the end," Mike guessed cryptically.
"No, because then we got downstairs and found out that Freddy's has its own personal scrapyard garbage dump in the basement."
"Ennard must've loved that," Springtrap remarked. His voice then softened dramatically. "I'm joking, I'm sure he was torn up about all this."
"He was. We all were. So, we split up and started looking, and that's when Mari and I found the stash of Bonnie stuff," Charlie said, pointing to the mug. "And to answer all your questions: he was an animatronic and he was friends with Freddy, he was supposed to be redesigned into a new character, but then he disappeared before he could. Jake thinks he's hiding somewhere and after seeing that basement, yeah, I could believe it."
"Well, that just confirmed my worst fears," Mike said dryly. He looked down at the mug again. "I hope Jake's right. I hope they didn't do anything to him just because they were afraid of a lawsuit. I know it's not out-of-character for the old Freddy's, but…" He sighed as the last of any cynicism in his voice was replaced with concern. "No wonder Mari was upset…"
There was a solemn moment of silence. Perhaps for Bonnie.
"So, you found Baby. What happened to Chica?" Jeremy asked.
"She wasn't so lucky... She had a lot of damage to her shell, especially around her mouth. Her beak even fell out and… we couldn't find it," Charlie explained. To which Jeremy cringed and grimaced. "She was still able to get up and chase Gregory around, but Fritz had to tase her when she got rough with Natalie, and then he and Ennard tried fixing her up in parts and service."
"And how well did that go?" Springtrap asked.
"Not that bad. They got everything fixed except the mouth, which they couldn't fix because they weren't authorized too. Apparently, Chica got some sort of an upgrade to help her sing and they didn't want to risk anyone working on it."
"More like they didn't want to risk anyone seeing their prized upgrade and copying the design. How very business savvy of them," Springtrap said flatly. His voice softened up once more with a sigh. "Though there's our answers… I always found Freddy very suspicious. How he was so readily willing to go along with this plan of sneaking Gabe and us in and go against his own business to protect us… I suppose this clears up why he did," he said. His voice low and sympathetic.
Seeing how down he and everyone else was, Charlie felt the need to do damage control. Less they think the whole night was a total disaster when in reality it had ended much better than expected.
"But, on the plus side, we got her!" she announced with double thumbs up. They looked to her with varying degrees of confusion. "Vanny! Scott was able to get her on tape!"
"You're serious?!" Mike exclaimed. His dire expression broke into a grin. "Way to go, Scott! How'd he pull that one off?"
"He got her going down a tunnel. She was too far away to mess up the camera," Charlie said with an equal smile. "Fritz said it's not the best picture, but he was able to see her, so there's that!"
"So, it was worth it! Still sort of a disaster, but you got what you went in there for, and there's no way Wight's going to be able to ignore something he can see. He can try, but that's looking at a lawsuit too," Jeremy said matter-of-factly.
"Good on Scott, we needed some good news," Mike agreed.
"And the rest of the night wasn't too bad. We hung out in the daycare while everyone was working. I took Baby up to the arcade to help her destress and Mari took care of Gregory so Freddy could hang out with Foxy. I think that helped a lot for them both. Freddy was shaken up after everything and Mari… I don't know. I got the feeling that something was off, but he does a good job of hiding his feelings… Well, sometimes."
"He does that. As a matter of fact, I think I might go check in on him. You guys sit tight," Mike said. After all of this, he really needed to check in on him, and he all but hustled into the hallway to do so.
As he headed out, Jeremy caught Charlie rubbing the side of her mask. Resting her head on her hand in a tired motion, only to pull it away quickly when he spoke up.
"You don't have to go in, you know. Why don't you stay home and catch a snooze?" he suggested.
"I figured I could do that in my box," Charlie said. A playful tilt of her head and a jingle to replace a wink.
That was the last part Mike caught before he got too far down the hallway and too distracted to listen.
Truth was, he kept thinking back to Marionette through the explanation. Reacting to each piece of news before thinking about how Marionette must've reacted. He should've been there, he felt guilty that he wasn't. Yet he knew he wouldn't have been much help.
He could be there now though, and he slowly opened the door to peek in and see if Marionette was still asleep.
He was not. He was sitting on the edge of the bed slumped in on himself. His head was propped up with his arm and turned towards the door as it open. The two looked at each other a moment before Mike came in and shut the door behind him.
"Heyyy," he greeted as smoothly as he could. He ignored how phony it sounded and instead walked over and sat down beside him on the bed. "So, I guess that means you made up your mind."
"I did. I'm going in," Marionette agreed. He straightened himself up. "If Foxy could go through last night and still go into work then so can I. I owe that much to him."
"I don't know if Foxy would agree, but I'm on board with whatever you want to do," Mike said.
Marionette smiled briefly and they sat there in silence for a long moment. The only noise being the ceiling fan spinning above. Eventually Mike broke the silence with a sigh.
"So! I saw that mug you had out there," he began. Marionette's fell instantly. "And the band-aid approach fails again. Excellent job, Mike," Mike thought. He continued it with a simple and levelheaded, "Charlie brought me up to speed."
"She told you about Bonnie?" the Puppet quietly asked.
"Yeah."
"Did she tell you about what happened to Chica and Baby?"
"Oh yeah."
"Oh… Did she tell you about Jake?"
"No, what happened?"
"There wasn't a vandal. He was the one breaking himself. Just like our dear Mangle used to after becoming that sheep…" Marionette said somberly.
"What?"
"He confided in us about it while we were asking about Bonnie and the Staff Bots. There were so many Staff Bots down in that basement Mike. Broken and forgotten. I didn't think about it at the time, but if that's how Fazbear Entertainment treats their mascots-!" His fingers tightened on his legs and static rose in his chest, but he then relaxed, his music box releasing with a soft twang. "When they didn't want to keep putting Jake back together, they replaced him with Sunny."
"That's terrible… No wonder you were upset. Charlie didn't tell us about that," Mike said. Still somewhat startled by the information. It wasn't like this outcome was too unlikely- he must've expected it at least once- but the confirmation was another thing entirely.
"Jake asked us to not tell anyone else. Except you, he said I could tell you," Marionette said, looking towards him.
"Did he say why he did it?" Mike quietly asked, meeting his gaze.
"…Not exactly, but… He did imply- He said that he was doing better now, so… Take from that what you will," he answered in a hushed tone.
All this coming out on the night Mike wasn't there. He was going to be kicking himself for a couple of days after this one. He reached to put his hand on Marionette's shoulder.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
He noticed distinctly that Marionette had his normal amount of warmth. He wasn't overheating, there was no pain from the touch.
"I…" Marionette's eyes shifted shape like he was looking down and around in thought. His hands sliding together to wring his fingers. "…I think so… It's just all so much at once. I don't know what happened. I was fine until we got home."
"Putting on a brave face for the others probably," Mike half-asked.
"Perhaps…"
"But it makes sense. It's when everything's done and over with that you really get to stop and think about what just happened. Sounds like you didn't have a lot of time for that last night," he sympathized. Marionette gave a small nod of agreement and Mike pulled him into an embrace that he eagerly took. They stayed like that for a few long moments.
"…But it wasn't all awful. I did get some time with Gregory," Marionette said. This brought a tentative small smile to his mask, one that Mike could hear in his voice. "With Freddy busy with Foxy, I was able to take over caring for Gregory for the night. We played in the tunnels and on the slides, rolled around in the office chair behind the daycare desk, he even let me read to him! He is such a good kid, Mike. He reminds me a lot of you."
"Huh. Sounds good to me," Mike joked. He had already begun to smile himself during Marionette's colorful explanation. One more of relief than true amusement.
The Puppet chimed and almost reluctantly pulled back- aware of the time- leaving a small kiss on Mike's cheek as he did.
"I'm glad you stayed home," he said. Taking Mike's hands in his as he did.
"Yeah, well… I'm not," Mike admitted.
"Well, I am. I needed you here," Marionette insisted a little more firmly. He squeezed Mike's hands before lacing their fingers together. "Thank you for last night."
"Hey, you don't need to thank me."
"I know, but I want to."
Marionette lifted and cradled his hands to his chest with a much beloved trill. Mike didn't have the heart or much of the drive to tell him that he was starting to run late, but that wasn't a problem, as Marionette finally let him go before getting up and heading to the dresser to get his red ribbon bowtie.
"Fritz offered to take him home. Gregory, I mean," he said as he did.
"No kidding. I'm guessing he said no."
"Turned him down flat," Marionette said with a fitting hand motion.
"Eh, at least he tried. Not every day you get the chance to adopt a kid as great as me," Mike said. It got another chuckle out of Marionette, so he considered it a victory.
There was a lot more Mike wanted to say, but he decided that it could wait until after work at least. Let Marionette get a few more hours of escape during the vital hours of running their business before forcing him back to their other reality. He could withhold his own curiosity. If it got too bad, he could always call Scott; heavens knows he was going to have to anyway. He would only be waiting until lunch to make sure he slept.
Marionette fixed his bow and the two left the bedroom together, and they were all smiles as they headed into work.
…
…Unfortunately, as tender as that moment was and as better of a headspace as Marionette seemed to be in, it didn't manage to last through the day. Understandably as one heart-to-heart couldn't take away all those feelings. It worked for a while at least, with Marionette getting to the pizzeria in a good mood and helping set up. A nice contrast against Foxy's long-night crankiness. Not against him, but at one point against his own curtain.
It was before lunchtime, so Mike knew it wasn't his call to Scott that caused it, but he noticed that Marionette had started to slow down. He started to retreat into the Prize Corner more often and kept himself busy moving around merchandise. His delightful smile only seemed to last long enough to tend to the children before it lost its luster and returned to an emptier default. Mike could tell he was thinking, and it didn't matter how many time he brought him back out of the Prize Corner, he couldn't pull him out of his funk.
The truth was, there wasn't really a way to fix the problem. Everything Marionette was upset about- Bonnie, Chica, Jake, Gregory- either didn't have an obvious solution or they were left helplessly in the dark. Nobody was even thinking of going back this quick anyways. Well, except Mike, but he wasn't stupid enough to show up there the night after a major catastrophe. Even Foxy had stressed steering away from the place, and he was the one most likely to sneak back over there.
There wasn't a solution to Marionette's woes, so Mike had to think of other options. There was one that came to mind.
"I think I need to do something to help take his mind off things. It's not like there's anything we can do to change last night, so why not? He deserves some time away from it," Mike asked Jeremy, who he had been confiding in as the two bussed a table.
They had just closed up after the last family had overstayed their welcome and were trying to hurry through cleaning before Fritz could offer to help. He had come in sometime after lunch looking like he was suffering from jetlag and only just got the glassiness out of his eyes. They pounced on this table like their jobs depended on it and had it stripped and reclothed in a matter of moments- the previous family had really done a number to it.
"Sounds good to me. What were you thinking about?" Jeremy asked.
"I don't know. Getting him out of the house at least. The problem's where to take him."
"I'd say camping if you had a little more time to set up. Unless you just drove him out to Sand Hollow and slept in your car…"
"I'd sneak him into a movie, but I know they're going to be packed tonight," Mike said. The blond gave him a surprised look over the table. "It's not as risky as it sounds. You catch an early movie on the right day and the place is empty. You can smuggle in anything."
"I guess you can," Jeremy said with some disbelief. Though the disbelief that came from knowing he wasn't bluffing. "…You know it's not really important where you go. You could just rent a room at Bed4U and play video games all night. What matters is getting him away from the house. Then it's an adventure! When you do it at home it's just business as usual."
"…What're you two talkin' about?" Foxy asked lowly from the stage. Peeking out through the crack of the curtain, both men assuming he had been napping until now.
"Getting Mari out of the house to go take his mind off things," Jeremy answered. "Why, what did you think I meant?"
"…Didn't hear ya," Foxy said, that suspicion deflating to tiredness. Him looking away in embarrassment when Jeremy sent him a cheeky smile.
"That's not a bad idea. I think you might be onto something, Jere," Mike said. He thought it over a moment, tossing the damp rag he was holding between his hands, and then onto the table. "Mind taking over for me for a while?"
"No problem."
"Thanks. I've got to go get some things set up. If Mari asks, I'm running by the house, but I'll be back."
"Take this with ya," Foxy interjected. He shuffled around behind the curtain before tossing his balled-up sweatshirt at Mike. "And throw it in the washer. Least ya can do fer stinkin' it up."
"I did? You've been running this thing all across town for the last twelve months!" Mike pointed out.
"Aye, and it didn't reek til after ye wore it!" Foxy quipped back. Following it up with a rather devious chuckle.
Mike was less than amused, feeling like he had taken the bait. Which wasn't helped by Jeremy chiming in with an innocuous, "Stress sweat?"
"No, it was that funky elevator in the lobby. Smells like something crawled in it and died. We're just lucky it didn't stick to Mari," Mike muttered, trying to not give Foxy the satisfaction of seeing him rattled. "I'm off!"
"Okay, good luck!" Jeremy called after him. As Mike headed for the door, he looked back at the stage and Foxy. "So, what do you want to do tonight?"
"Sleep," Foxy groggily grumbled.
"I guess that means you're not coming home with us?"
"Didn't say that…" Foxy mumbled thoughtfully. "…Eh, we'll see."
Well, they had time to decide, and whatever Foxy suggested Jeremy was going to go along with. He was going to be taking Mike's example and keeping a close eye on him tonight in case he was stuffing down some of his own feelings. They'd make a night out of it.
…Hopefully a night that didn't involve an impromptu drive to Freddy's.
…
Marionette hadn't noticed that Mike left until he checked into the Prize Corner to say that he had gotten back. To which the Puppet stared blankly a second and then gave a smile and a basic greeting in an attempt to cover that he had no idea how long he had been gone. Having not left the little room once since whenever he had left and unable to remember if Mike had called in on his way out or not. He was lost in his own mind today, to the point that even he himself noticed.
There was just a lot of stuff to unpack, and not just in the Prize Corner itself.
Though he could say with some pride that the shelves had all been perfectly and fully stocked. All the plushies stacked or hung up, the shirts the same, the candy replaced with each piece pointing upwards, and everything where it needed to be. Spotlessly aligned.
His own little piece of the pizzeria looked perfect. At least that much he could control.
Mike asked him if they could leave early. That Jeremy would drive Charlie home, that he already talked to everyone, and that they could maybe use the time alone. Marionette agreed, unsure what he was intending but trusting in whatever his plan was. They got into the car and left Foxy's parking lot, and it wasn't long after that when it became apparent that they weren't going in the direction of home.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
Mike got a knowing grin. "It's a surprise."
"Oh!" While Marionette had been so listless all day, he sounded a touch excited at that. "Well then, I'll let you lead the way."
He tried to guess where they were going. Not the Pizzaplex, not this early. Not quite towards Fritz's or Scott's either unless Mike was trying to mislead him by driving an unusual route.
Marionette was surprised once again when their destination ended up being the big three-star hotel on the other side of town. They had driven past it a few times and Marionette might've given it a curious glance once or twice, but it had then fallen into the background of places he likely would never see. There really wasn't a reason to stay in a hotel when you lived in town, and when there were cheaper alternatives. Or that was what he thought before they pulled up and the curiosity sparked again.
Mike parked at the corner of the parking lot where they weren't in direct view of the front doors. Though they did have a nice view of the landscape, with distant reddened hills illuminated by the progressing sunset. He shut off the car before turning to look in the back seat, still wearing a winning grin.
"So, do I sling you over my shoulder and carry you in all smooth-like or are you going to shadow me?" he asked.
Marionette knew exactly what he meant by 'shadow'. Just the idea excited him.
"Let me shadow you. I'm up for it," Marionette insisted. Mike could hear the eagerness oozing though and was just as on-board.
There was something about skirting very closely to the edge of detection that was always so enticing. It had been ages since they had last risked getting caught by smuggling him into a movie or around a national park. In this case the location had both pros and cons, which Mike noticed when he scouted the location earlier. Plenty of corners and edges to hide behind in the hotel, but again, a hotel. By design a place where there would be plenty of people.
Mike strode into that lobby like he owned the place. Having already rented the room earlier, he knew right where he was going. He dangled the room key in his fingers, so he wouldn't have to get stopped with any questions and walked across the lobby. There weren't too many people currently but there was a family and a couple, with the latter checking themselves in. Enough people to take notice of when passing through while they were none the wiser.
He walked into the hallway that led towards the elevators and took a deep breath as he felt the movement. Indeed, Marionette was like a shadow. He hadn't even turned to look, so he couldn't tell if he was partially translucent or just blatantly popping around. Likely the latter, his preferred method to not tire himself out but also the riskier one. But perhaps that's what he wanted. While Mike would easily say Marionette was the more cautious one, he had started to take a joy in flexing his skills.
Though perhaps Mike had something to do with that. If so, he was proud to take responsibility for that.
He took the stairwell instead of the elevator- safer in these circumstances- and into the hallway. He passed by some people who too didn't notice, feeling the shift when Marionette caught up later, and made a straight line to the room where they headed in.
The room was much nicer than the ones they had split on the road. The bed was covered with white pillows and a puffy white comforter designed with embroidery in the shape of poppies. The walls and ceiling were white as well with a red accent wall behind the bed, topped with landscape pictures. There was an armchair over by the window, of which the heavy curtains were already drawn closed.
Once again Marionette was in for a surprise as he realized Mike had already gotten things together. The game console hooked up to the television clearly being theirs while the stack of VHS tapes beside it were in a plastic bag branded with the name of the video rental store they frequented. Mike's travel bag was also sat to the side, likely with whatever he needed for spending the night.
Marionette gave a happy trill at the sight. Just delighted enough to be rendered speechless.
"What do you think?" Mike asked. As though he couldn't tell by that excited sound alone.
"It's perfect! How long have you been planning this?" Marionette asked.
"About an hour," Mike admitted.
"Well, you did an excellent job! I love it. Thank you," he chirped. Then grabbed Mike's hand and eagerly pulled him into the room to get started on what would be another long, but much less awful night.
He could go back to worrying about the outside world tomorrow. Tonight it was just him and Mike, a stack of low budget horror flicks, and a stack of video games- of which only one made then truly want to tear their hair or strings out.
It was going to be a good night.