Mable: Time for the weekend! Enjoy!

Going Home in a Box

Chapter Sixty-One

Charlie was a lot more nervous now than when she agreed to go two days ago. Which she almost convinced herself was irrational because there weren't even going to be half the number of people as were at the party. But she couldn't fool herself; this was going to be the longest she had spent only with her friends in years. Technically, in ever, since the only one she really shared a room with was Jessica. So, it wasn't just a puppet thing this time.

Yet she wanted to see it through. So, she packed her things and waited for Jessica to come pick her up. She decided to wear her new jacket. She had worn it for work the day before, but she also wanted Jessica to see her wearing it and know she liked it, as opposed to going back to old faithful green who she had shoved in her bag. She briefly considered the safety blanket nature of the jacket, but then shrugged it off because the pockets were useful.

She also brought one of the gaming consoles. It took a while of convincing to get Mike to agree to part with it for even two days, but he finally agreed and helped her pack it up. It was almost funny how he didn't have a problem with a bunch of little toys running around it most of the day but the second it was at risk of leaving the house he became wary. Though he didn't put up enough of a fight to make her feel too bad about taking it.

It was sort of a backup in case things got too awkward or boring. She could just plug in a game and there would be an instant distraction. That was a win-win in a scenario where she was worried the two days would drag on forever.

She waited at the dining room table until she heard a car outside and peeked out to see Jessica's car pulling up.

"That's her!" she called as she scooted back her chair and got to her feet. Pulling on her bag with one arm and grabbing a rolled blanket out of the other seat with the other. She unrolled it in one smooth motion.

"I could come with you if it would make you more comfortable," Marionette offered, sitting across the table and propping his chin on his hand. "It would take the attention off you to have a complete stranger there, and you know I'm great at board games."

"I think I'm good, thanks," Charlie said. Though she then thought about it before looking to him questioningly. "Unless you want to come…?"

"Oh, no! No, no, no! I'm fine here. I wouldn't encroach on your bonding time," Marionette quickly denied. Maybe a little too quickly to not notice. "If I wanted to go visit friends, I could surely scare up a few."

"Are you sure? I don't think the guys would mind an extra person," Charlie offered with a knowing smile.

"I'm positively certain! You go have a fun weekend and don't worry about me," he waved off with his own smile. He couldn't intrude, he wouldn't. Even if he would love to.

"Okay, but if you change your mind the door's always open. Just call Jess and she can give Mike directions to the cabin to drop you off. Or he can stick around too if he wants! They're not just my friends. They'd love to have you guys there too."

While Marionette wasn't quite sure of that, he chimed happily at the offer. "Well, thank you! Who knows, perhaps we'll get a crazy impulse and drop in at midnight."

Before Charlie could react to the weird edge in his voice, somewhere between teasing and sneaky, there was a knock on the door. She turned and unlocked it, opening for Jessica to poke her head in.

"Well, come on, Grandma. Let's get this show on the road," she joked.

Charlie defiantly threw the blanket over her shoulders and backpack, bunching it up, hunching over, and wobbled out in the most geriatric-ly accurate way possible.

"My eyes aren't what they used to be, Dearie, so I'm going to have to take your arm," Charlie said, mimicking a granny voice. She hooked her arm around Jessica's. "There's a good girl."

"You're so weird," Jessica scoffed fondly.

"You two have a good time! Don't leave any garbage out," Mike called as he came into the kitchen. His hair still damp and tussled from his post-run shower.

"We won't!" Charlie agreed.

"Don't worry, we're going to take good care of her," Jessica confidently assured.

"Have fun, you two!" Marionette encouraged as he waved them out the door.

"We will! And remember what we talked about!" Charlie called back. Then she and Jessica hustled out to the car as he shut the door behind them.

"What did you talk about?" Mike asked curiously.

"Oh, not much. Charlie offered for me to come along. Said I could drop in if I changed my mind," Marionette brought him up to speed. He went over to the window and peeked around the curtain, making sure that Charlie got into the car safely. "But I already have plans for tonight…" he said cryptically. He watched them drive off before closing the curtain and turning to face Mike who had walked up behind him. He had an understandably confused look at the mysterious wording.

"Tonight, I'm going to go talk to Chance," Marionette answered.

"Uh oh." Just from that tone alone, Mike knew it wasn't going to be a friendly chat. "About Sammy?" he guessed.

"About my suspicions about him, yes," the puppet agreed.

Mike had a suspicion this was going to happen. The night of Charlie's birthday party, after they had gotten home, Marionette had mentioned his brief conversation with Chance and had clearly been shaken by it if he was still thinking about it. Though after a couple of days without further acting, Mike himself had almost forgot about it. But not Marionette; he knew that he thought about things a lot longer than that, and he could conceal those thoughts for a while before they made their second appearance.

"Do you want me to come with you? I can be quiet. Just there for moral support," Mike offered. Basically promising that he wouldn't pick any sort of a fight with Chance in a few short words, even if his reaction was as bad as they were expecting.

"No thank you. I think it would be better if I approached him alone. I'll be fine, but… Do you think… maybe you could convince Fritz and Natalie to go out to dinner with you? Maybe? I know asking this so suddenly is a big ask… maybe you could invite them over here?"

"Get rid of them so you can have a loud talk," Mike guessed with a slight smile.

Marionette returned it. "I hope it doesn't get to that, but… Yes, that."

"Sure. It's about time we went out and did something that wasn't breaking in entering. I'll talk to them at Foxy's. Maybe I can get Jeremy to tag along too."

The Puppet gave a happy but still slight nervous sounding chime, and Mike pulled him in to kiss him on his porcelain cheek. A silent assurance that it was going to be alright, even when both knew it was likely going to be a disaster.

…

"I wish I had friends like Charlie did," Marionette murmured.

"What do you mean? You have friends," Mike pointed out. "Strange, potentially dangerous friends, but they're still friends."

"Oh, I know. And I consider us friends too still, even if we're a bit more than that," Marionette said coyly, flashing Mike a little grin before it settled into a slightly wistful one. "I suppose it's just… I feel strange myself around my friends. Not like I'm out of place or that they are, but that there is some ever-present barrier always between us. Like… Like I never really got out of feeling like a protector for everyone, and it really gets in the way of being on equal ground."

"I never knew you felt that way," Mike said.

"I never felt it with you. I mean, I consider myself your protector now, but by time I started to protect you, you were returning the favor. And I suppose it's not fair to put that label on everyone else, save maybe Jeremy, Fritz, and Charlie, or my siblings, but it's… it's just that I sometimes envy the little group of lifelong friends Charlie has. I wish I could have that without all of my strings attached."

"I know what you mean. Fritz and Jeremy are my best friends- other than you- and I'm not going to downplay that for a second. But like that time I hung out with those collage kids when we were out camping, there's a totally different vibe when you're just one in a group just looking to have a good time. Especially if they don't know anything about you and just want to hang out. No strings attached."

"Mm-hm," Marionette hummed in agreement. He understood that exactly. "It's getting on summer break, isn't it? Why don't you call them up?"

That caught Mike by surprise and a brow shot up. "How's that going to fix your problem? Unless you're going to shadow me again." The shift in his voice suggested that he didn't mind the idea.

"Oh, I might, but I meant more for you than me," Marionette encouraged.

"…You know, I think I might. But not tonight… I already have plans for tonight," Mike said in the same cryptic way Marionette had, then sent him a sidelong smirk.

"You see, this is why we're no longer friends."

"You love me," Mike grinned. Marionette matched it.

"I know, and that's why we're no longer friends."

That deserved a kiss on the lips at least.

The cabin was a bit of a drive away. They at least had to drive past New Harmony and near Cedar City to reach the road they pulled off onto and front there it was a matter of snaking their way into the woods. They talked for a while, with it broken up by moments of listening to the music. Something bubbly and bright pouring out of the speakers of Jessica's car. It all felt so normal considering that Charlie was slid down into the passenger's seat with her legs bent up and her hood up.

The road was deserted once they got off the highway and the views were nice as they climbed up towards the cabin, eventually pulling up outside. The cabin itself was on the smaller side with a rustic theming but looked like it had probably been built in only the last few years. It sat on the edge of the hill where a wraparound porch faced off the slope and towards a view of trees, mountains, and a river farther down. The front door faced out towards them and there was a wooden welcome sign hung on it.

The area was rather secure. Though the trees didn't exactly make an impenetrable wall, there weren't any other cabins in sight and the only road was down a long driveway they had just come up. She would still have to be careful but in a place like this maybe she could take a few more chances than usual. The thought excited her more than it should've.

"Looks like Marla and John are already here," Jessica pointed out. Their cars already pulled up beside the cabin. She parked on the other side of the door before unbuckling and reaching into the back to grab her stuff. It was then that she noticed how quiet Charlie was, still slunk down and staring out the window as though lost in thought. "Everything good?"

"What?... Oh, yeah. I'm fine," Charlie said, snapping her head over. "I saw everyone two days ago. Why would it be weird now?" Realizing that she had just said too much, she waited through an awkward pause before hastily correcting. "It's not weird. I'm just a little… it's been a long time since I've slept away from home. The Pizzaplex doesn't count. I don't count three hours of funhouse music sleeping."

Jessica chuckled a little and gave an assuring smile. "No, I get it. Just know that if something comes up and you need me to, I can drive you back to town. Just as long as I get a head's up before two in the morning."

Charlie thought back to the conversation at the house and gave a nervous jingle.

"That made me think of something Mari said. He was joking about getting Mike to drive up and drop him off in the middle of the night… You had to be there," she dismissed.

"Did he want to come? He could've come with us."

"I asked him if he wanted to, but he kind of got like… embarrassed. I think he wanted to come but didn't want to be a third wheel. Seventh wheel."

"I wish I would've known. I would've loved having him here. It would've given me a chance to get to know him better, being that he's like your…"

"Mentor?"

"Something a little less old, but like that. Besides, if anyone's going to be the seventh wheel, it's Carlton. I know for a fact that he brought one of those stupid 'one hundred pirate jokes' joke books for no reason except to annoy me."

"I was hoping he'd forget to bring it," Charlie lamented.

"You've seen it?"

"Where do you think he bought it?"

Jessica groaned and got out of the car, now fully aware of what they were getting into. Charlie bundled up the blanket and rushed in just in case.

The front door led directly into an open concept living room on the right with a kitchen and small dining room in the back, along with a door leading out onto the back deck. There were two doors on the left wall. One was partially opened to reveal a bathroom and the other was likely a bedroom. On the far-right wall, between the kitchen and the living room, was another door leading into a short hallway.

It was a cute cabin, decorated in a southwestern rustic style and kept clean and neat. The TV was good sized, the couch looked plush, the dining room table had enough chairs; it already checked off the boxes necessary for what they needed.

Marla came out of the hallway when she heard the door open, and her smile broke into a grin.

"Hi! I was just thinking about when you'd get here!" Marla rushed over for introductory hugs before escorting them back into the short hallway. "Okay, so, you guys are going to be sharing this room," she said. She gestured towards the right bedroom, though both right and left looked almost identical save some color differences. "Carlton and I are going to take this room, and John and Lamar are going to duel for the third bedroom. Loser sleeps on the couch."

"It won't be much of a loss. That's a pretty-nice couch," Charlie remarked. Jessica gave an amused little grin. "What?"

There was an 'omph' from outside. The sound of someone landing pretty hard and all the wind exiting their lungs.

"…Are they dueling now?" Jessica asked incredulously.

"No, they're out there messing with the rope swing. There's one out back," Marla explained. "There's a firepit too! So, we'll get to have a cookout tonight," she said, rubbing her hands together.

It was an exciting and enticing idea. It felt like literally playing with fire.

Charlie and Jessica put their stuff away in their room before going to see the rope swing. Jessica had given her an out, had offered for her to take the blanket, but Charlie had stood her ground, pulled up her hood, and daring to walk out in broad daylight. Not that there was much of a threat in the middle of the woods. Still, Jessica stood beside her as lookout and watched with the eyes of a hawk, just in case somehow someone just happened to creep up on an unknown hiking trail.

They walked around the house to find their remaining friends out back. The backyard consisted of a little firepit on a gentle slope right beneath the deck. The slope then dropped a bit more steeply into some grass and down to the bushes and shrubs further down. The rope swing hung over this steeper slope, attached to the limb of a tree high above and with the grass worn away underneath it. The rope swing itself not being a 'swing' but instead a rope with some knots in it.

Lamar was sitting on one of the benches around the firepit watching as assumedly Carlton and John played around with the rope swing. Carlton was standing off to the side while John was swinging off the slope. He didn't notice Charlie and Jessica approaching until the rope turned and promptly reacted by releasing it in surprise, landing on the side of the slope in a slight stagger but saving himself from a faceplant.

He lifted his head and saved it with a smile. "Hey!"

Jessica returned with a much more amused one. Returning the, "Hey," but with a much more teasing tone.

"Hey, how was the drive?" Lamar asked.

"It was good! It was pretty quiet," Charlie replied.

"Did you get lost?"

"No?"

"Good. We did."

"We didn't get lost, we just made one wrong turn," Carlton smoothly defended.

"Yeah, one wrong turn that sent us circling around the mountain for an hour."

"Pfft, hour. It was like thirty minutes max."

"They've been just waiting to get this going again," John remarked to the two. Jessica gave a little scoff while Charlie got an amused smile.

"Think they'll reconcile their differences before the cookout?" the puppet asked.

"Sure! Nothing brings people together more than processed meats and gelatin byproducts," John joked. This managing to get a little chortle out of Charlie, the edge of a ring to her voice. "Want to take a spin on the rope swing?"

"As tempting-."

"Sure."

Jessica and Charlie shared a look at the overlapping answers. Jessica looking a little confused at why she would want to and Charlie challenging it with a little smile.

"Want to see who can hold on longer? Winner gets the bed."

Jessica gave a scoffy little snort. That on its own got a jingle.

…

They didn't wait until nighttime to start the cookout. It was more twilight with the sunset still on the edge of the hill. With the cabin angled towards it, it gave a nice view both from the deck and the firepit area beneath it. The group sat on the benches surrounding the little fire contained in the metal barrel at the center of the pit. Sticking sticks over it stuck with weenies and marshmallows and considering that dinner like proper adults.

It was funny how some of these adults showed shades of the children they were long ago. Marla, for example, loved marshmallows and yet couldn't stand anything sticky on her fingers. So, she kept subtly licking the tip of her thumb. Just like when she was a kid, and she would hate when the stickiness was left on her hands after eating a popsicle. Carlton, in contrast, had burned himself twice trying to bite in too quickly. His child-self had been overeager too.

Charlie had noticed these tiny details. It would've been too strange to bring up, but it was amusing to watch in action. They all had their own little eccentricities.

Hers was that she liked to keep her hands busy. Currently she was fiddling around with a little pinecone she had plucked off a short pinyon before sitting down. Just something to roll around in her hand and give her something to do while the others were eating. Something to do with her hands. Something that she would eventually toss off into the woods or into the fire.

During a lull in the conversation, she had started to roll it around her long dark fingers. Sort of like rolling it in her palm but with less palm to work with. She glanced down at it and watched it roll back and forth.

It made her think of the marbles Marionette had started using for her telekinesis practice. Pens and pencils, bottle caps and marbles, giving her a plethora of little objects to try and push around. So far there hadn't been much progress, save the last few times when she focused so hard that she gave herself a headache. With the birthday and everything going on they hadn't practiced since last week. Maybe she would do a little practicing on her own tonight.

Though she proceeded to get ahead of herself by looking down at the pinecone, stilling her hand, and beginning to concentrate. Recently when she started focusing too hard during practice her vision would ironically unfocused, and it did so now. A ring would fade around her sight as something homed in inside her. It never changed anything, but it was always a sign that she was getting somewhere, maybe.

A little further this time. She would try a little harder this time, in this short window she had to do so. Concentrating on the pinecone as though it was a marble or a pen and imagining a little push.

That's when Lamar launched a marshmallow off his stick and halfway into the woods.

She snapped her head up and cracked up just as readily as those who had seen what just happened. The part that got her was the hilarious nearly stunned look on Lamar's face. As though he couldn't even believe what just happened.

What a goof. What a wonderful night.

And she felt good. She didn't feel out of place at all. She felt normal.

She took another whack at the pinecone. Focusing in on it while jingles still hung on her voice and watched her vision fade and blur as she listened to the chatters of the others. Ignoring the tightening in her head and over her brow and pushing past that point.

The headache narrowed to a sharp point above her eyes and her vision flickered. Before she was able to process it and stop herself, it felt like something rolled through the top of her head. Pressing through and releasing.

Part of the pinecone's bristles crushed in with a small crunch.

Suddenly the world swiveled around her and before she could stop herself, she toppled back off the bench and landed flat on her back. Her legs still up on the wooden seat.

"Whoa, are you okay?!" Marla called. She could also see Jessica looking down in confusion and concern.

"OH YEAH, I'M FINE! DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT!" Charlie rushed out. She ignored the fading sting in her head and hastily got back up on the bench. "I leaned back too far."

Now everyone who was there assumed that what happened was she lost her balance while carrying on, so there was a little laughter, a little cheekiness, and they let it go without reading too much into it. Jessica might've noticed how quiet Charlie got after that, but just assumed it was embarrassment after her little capsize.

But in reality, Charlie was in utter shock. Still clasping the pinecone and stealing a look or two down at it. She had clamped it in her hand as she fell, but she knew what she had seen. It had been crushed before she fell. She had crushed it with her mind.

"I just did it. I can't believe it, I just did that. It was in my head and I just- I can't believe I just did that. I didn't just imagine it, right? I know what I saw."

Charlie slowly opened her hand and looked down and tried to focus once again. Only to be rewarded with a sharp sting behind her eyes. She barely winced and closed her hand again.

"Okay, not right now… but that proves it, right? I must've done it if I'm feeling this rough… I can't believe it. I did it. I DID it."

Her mask split in a small but eager smile, and she was barely able to restrain the desire to jingle. Or to scream to the treetops and show it off to all her friends. She might've been bold enough to do so if she had been able to replicate it; maybe once her headache wore off.

Marionette was going to be thrilled. Well, maybe he would be a little disappointed, but he was going to be so happy once he found out. It wasn't news she was delivering over a phone call, it would absolutely have to be a display.

That is, if she could do it again. That doubt crossed her mind for a moment before being pushed aside by sheer triumph. She did it once, she could do it again. She would do it again.

Charlie was sitting there in her own happy little world when Marla noticed her prolonged quietness and unlike Jessica who left her be, decided to angle the conversation towards her.

"So, Charlie! How're things at Foxy's? Have you started putting together that little bear guy yet?" she asked.

Deciding this was not the time to bring up her little victory, Charlie instead scooted forward and returned to the conversation. Her good mood masking the lingering soreness in her head.

"Still holding our own against Freddy's. So far, it's working out. We're still getting business," she began.

"I should know. If we weren't, I'm the first thing to go," Carlton quipped.

"Well, we'd probably cut back on freebies first, but sure," Charlie retorted. "And not yet. I've gotten him all unwrapped, I just haven't buckled down and started putting him together."

"That's going to be so cool!" Marla gushed. Likely mistakenly assuming he would end up more like the tiny toys that gathered around Jeremy rather than a statue that could move a little.

"What about you guys? It's been a while since we caught up. Any big plans for the future?" Charlie asked curiously. She crossed her legs to help stabilize herself.

"As a matter of fact- no," Carlton remarked. Marla nudged him with her elbow. "What?" Now John seized his turn to nudge on the other side. "What?!"

"What about the play?" the brunette hinted.

"Eh."

"Don't 'eh' that! It's a big deal!" she insisted. If he wasn't going to give the news, then she was. "Carlton's playing the lead in the community theater's production of Nine Lives in the Cat's Cradle!"

"What? Carlton, why didn't you say anything?! That's huge!" Charlie cried.

"It's not that big of a deal. Not that many people auditioned," Carlton brushed off. Though his grin showed that he was quite proud of it. He then coughed in to his sleeve, "Fourteen."

"Hey, congratulations! It's about time," Lamar chimed in. Everyone shared the sentiments.

Charlie wondered why Carlton hadn't said anything at the pizzeria. Surely their friends and co-workers would be just as supportive, though perhaps Carlton didn't know that.

"Now you just have to set us up with some free tickets," John suggested.

"Fat chance. I'm not taking any chances in ticking off Carlos. He's still got plenty of time to replace me," Carlton replied. He then nudged Marla back. "Your turn."

"Oookay, so I'm still working towards becoming an RN and I'm not sure exactly where I'm going to go from there. Still helping out at the hospital! But I'm sort of limited in what I'm allowed to do while still considered a student," Marla recited. "That's pretty much it! Who's next? John?"

"Hmm? Err, well…" John seemed a little surprised to be put on the spot. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before admitting, "I'm writing a book."

"Really? That's great!" Jessica congratulated. All of them were very aware that John had been putting off writing for years. Occasionally coming up with ideas but never getting to the point where he got that deep into any of them. Especially not since he had gotten into the workforce. "What's it about?"

"It's just a thriller mystery. Nothing too original," John brushed off.

"Hey, no. Come on. You can't say something like that and then not give details," Carlton interjected. Jessica gave him a less than amused look.

"You don't have to give us details, but we'd love to hear them," Marla amended.

"I don't have that much done so there's not much to tell," John said. He looked around to see that everyone had some variation of a curious look, including Charlie and Jessica herself. He looked around at their faces and immediately bent to peer pressure. "…If anyone laughs, I'm stopping there."

This was agreed upon with some nods and a few short words.

"It's called Hung from the Chimney Tops. A series of murders have stuck Victorian London. Someone is breaking into houses without leaving any evidence of their entering except on upper windows. The suspicion falls on "Dusty" Culpepper, a local chimney sweep, and if he doesn't prove his innocence fast then he'll be hung for a series of crimes he didn't commit. He must team up with local detective 'Hoskins the Watcher' and solve the crime while using his selective set of skills to prove himself innocent and just possibly, worthy of a position above the one he was born into."

"…You know, I was tempted to say something right about the time you said it was a chimney sweep solving a murder investigation, but I'm glad I didn't. Because that doesn't sound half-bad," Carlton confessed. "It actually sounds like something Dad would read."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Yes! You don't know how picky he is when it comes to detective stories. He gets personally offended when they get stuff wrong."

"Then it's a good thing I've done my research. And that it takes place a century before Clay was born. I might get some leeway if he hasn't done his research," John said. He looked towards Charlie and Jessica. "What do you guys think?"

"It sounds cool! It sort of sounds like a Sherlock Holmes story- not that I'm saying it doesn't sound original. It does! It's an, uh… original take on the Victorian murder mystery," Charlie explained, just managing to pull it back around in her favor. "It's the rooftop angle. You can do a lot with that."

"That's what I was thinking," John agreed. "We see a lot of works on the streets of London, but it's like a whole different world when you get to the rooftops. And when you're following someone who's living in the gritty reality of Victorian times."

For there 'not being much to tell', John seemed to have a clear idea of what he was going for. Charlie wasn't the only one who noticed this either.

After a little more explanation on the details and characters, and receiving a positive response of both, he went to pass on the baton.

"Who's next?" he offered.

Jessica and Lamar looked between each other before the former took the plunge. Just from her sigh and her look, Charlie had a suspicion what she would be bringing up.

"I'm at that weird place where I have to decide if I want a career or not. So, I've been studying forensics for a while now, and it's something I could totally get behind doing, but…"

"…But?" John coaxed.

"But my heart's not entirely into it. The whole reason I got involved in Forensics was because I was into Archeology and that seemed like a good middle ground towards a future career. But the farther along I'm getting the more I'm realizing that it's just not clicking for me," Jessica admitted. "Now I'm ankle deep in a major that I'm only half-interested in and have a passion for something that's not going to pay the bills."

"Wait a minute, I thought archeologists made a lot of money," Marla said.

"They don't. Maybe if I was a bigshot who uncovered the find of the century, but that doesn't happen as often as TV makes it seem. Mostly it's just digging a lot and not finding much… But that's not the part that bothers me. The whole concept of uncovering these pieces of ancient history and putting them back together is just amazing to me. Even something as simple as finding and piecing together old pottery is a window into a world none of us got to see. It's better than a recreation, it's the real thing."

Jessica explained this with so much passion that all of them could feel it. Though that's when her face faltered yet again. "But pursuing archeology would be a risk. It's not the safest job in the world, as my mom's reminded me at least twenty times."

"I don't think it's as dangerous as they show in the movies," Carlton said with slight amusement.

"No, I mean in pay. It doesn't pay well and it's not exactly a job with a lot of positions to fill. It would be a risk," Jessica clarified.

"Well… maybe it's not! Your Mom's still thinking of living expenses in New York. Out here you can make it on a lot less," Marla reminded.

"And it's a real job. It's not like you're running off to join the circus or running off to Hollywood to catch your big break," Charlie added in. Her boldness is saying so making it apparent that she had said something along this vein before.

"But would I be able to find a job out here? I'd probably have to move up to Salt Lake," Jessica pointed out.

"I mean… I think we all sort of assumed we were going to leave some day…" Charlie quietly admitted. The thought was saddening, and she looked down at the fire almost guiltily to avoid Jessica's gaze. "It's not that big of a deal. It happens."

But it was a big deal, because Charlie had a suspicion that Jessica only stuck around as long as she had for her. If she had still been human, she might've been able to leave with her. She might've not wanted to spend her life in Hurricane, as Jen had suggested to her numerous times in the long distant past. Now that option was off the table, and somehow Charlie's friends who all had distant lives had wound up staying close to home because of it.

"I know how you feel," Lamar confessed, breaking the tension before Jessica could. "I picked the wrong school to go to. I've been wanting to transfer up to Salt Lake University for about a year now, but that means having to get an apartment and having to move to the middle of a huge city. Not to mention how my parents are going to react. I don't know what it is, but they really want me to stick it out with this one. Like it's some sort of challenge and not me trying to set up the rest of my life."

The frustration was evident in the usually cool Lamar's voice. Along with the fact that he was contesting something his parents wanted. Lamar tended to go along with their suggestions most of the time. Him pushing back meant that this was serious.

"If you're that miserable then you might have to just take the plunge," John suggested. "You could probably get aid with your scholarship."

"I'm thinking about it. Money's not the problem, but at this point I'd rather get a job at a gas station than spend another year there. I just don't want to go hassle of transferring in the middle of a semester."

"Sounds like you've got a plan," Jessica said. "Well, what do you think I should do? You've got a better grasp on the job market than I do. What do you think?"

Lamar was surprised to have walked himself into that. He considered it for a long moment.

"I think you've got a point with the whole job demand and salary part…" he began. He made little circles with the sharpened stick, more like a twig, that he had been using to cook food on, humming as he did. "…So, what's it about forensics that you don't like?"

"To be honest, I haven't really warmed up to the idea of spending the rest of my life surrounded by death," Jessica began. She suddenly realized what she was saying and almost corrected herself but caught herself before doing so. Knowing that Charlie would only read it the wrong way if she presented it like that. Instead, she went into further explanation. "It feels like if I stick with forensics I'll get stuck working in the criminal field, and I'm just not interested."

"But in a way, archeology's got a lot to do with death too," Carlton pointed out. "But I get it, it's different. It's like the difference between a graveyard and a morgue."

"That's a weird way to put it, but you've got a point," Charlie agreed. "Both hold bodies, but there's a big difference between what happens in one and what happens in the other."

"This is a bizarre conversation," John remarked.

"This was not the conversation I was planning on having when I said I was thinking of switching majors," Jessica agreed, a slight wrinkle to her nose. "But it's more than that. Archeology is about studying history and culture and trying to use that to get a clearer look into the past. Forensic archeology isn't about finding out how someone lived, it's about how someone died. I don't think I could stand that."

"I think you already made up your mind," Lamar gently pointed out.

Jessica was a little surprised by the finality in that comment. Though she then tightened her lips in silent, almost reluctant agreement.

"But hey, you have time! They've got to share a couple of classes. Why not stick with this a little longer until you're sure?"

"I guess I should. I don't want to rush into anything while I'm still on the fence."

A quiet lull fell on the conversation save for the crackling of the fire and the rustling of the marshmallow bag as Marla got one to poke on her stick. She then offered the bag to Lamar, who took it and got one for himself.

Reading the shift in the conversation, Carlton knew he had to do something. So, he straightened up, lightened his tone, and shot a smug little smile at Charlie across the fire.

"Sooo, Charlie, what's this I hear about you getting feet?"

He was lucky her head was hurting, or he would've been ducking out of the way of a pinecone right then.

It didn't bother Chance when Fritz and Natalie went out. It bothered him a little that he himself couldn't go out, but then again, he didn't choose to do so even when he had the choice. One of the hardest things about accepting this change in lifestyle was the inevitable realization that it wasn't that different to what he had been doing these last few years. At least, save that he would go out to work. He supposed this was one way to accept retirement.

But Fritz sometimes felt guilty about it. Chance could tell with how clingy the guy would get before he left. Not usually when he was going out alone with Natalie, but when he was going in some sort of group. In a scenario where he could've invited Chance along. Chance brushed this off and all but goaded him up the stairs and out of the house. Like earlier established, old Chance probably wouldn't have gone anyways.

Tonight, he had found a decent football game on and had his eye transfixed to the screen. It only shifting the slightest bit to give a dramatic call for someone who couldn't hear him about how bad or good they were playing. He was so distracted that it suddenly took off-guard when he felt that fuzzy shiver in his left eye and chest. The hazy magnet-like tug that he usually got when the Puppet was in the room.

"What was that?" he muttered. That was a weird feeling to have when he was completely alone.

"Chance?"

"GAH!"

Chance's body thrust up the couch with about as much grace as this clunky bear body could. He turned back to see none other than Marionette standing over by the stairs. He must've teleported in without him noticing.

"For crying out loud. Don't sneak up on me like that," Chance lightly scolded. He turned around and dropped heavily onto the couch, it creaking ominously under his weight. "What's going on?"

"Nothing much. I just stopped in for a visit. Mike's out tonight and Charlie's away for the weekend," Marionette excused. "…And I've been meaning to talk with you since the party. This seemed like as good a time as any."

"Oh yeah? What about?"

The Puppet looked away and lingered there silently in the hallway for a long moment. That was Chance's immediate indication that something was up but knowing him and everything else it could've been anything. Finally, Marionette turned back.

"Can I ask you about the night Sammy went missing?" he asked.

It almost felt out of the blue until he considered that 'since the party' comment. That was the topic of their last conversation, so it made sense. Chance gave a nod and beckoned him to come into the room.

"What do you want to know?"

"Well… What exactly happened, for starters. From what I know from Charlie, there was a party at the diner and she and Sammy were running around playing when he was taken. Were you there?"

"I wasn't. I wasn't even living in town back then," Chance revealed. "I know he was taken out of a costume closet. Probably smuggled out the back when nobody was looking. It was late, people were probably drinking; nobody noticed anything until Charlie started crying and they found her in there alone. By then it was too late to find him."

"That's terrible…"

"I always had a feeling Will was involved. He just acted real funny about the whole thing. He put on a show of helping with the search a couple of days later, but he just happened to not be there the night it happened. Now Henry blew it off, 'Nah, not Will. He's my best friend. He has kids. He wouldn't ever do that'. Bunch of bull… Ahem, you know."

"I do know…" Marionette said quietly. "And I do know that he took him that night."

That cryptic tone got Chance to look over and it was then that he noticed the look on his mask. The way Marionette was looking down, how he was almost nervously rubbing his arm. He knew something, that's why he was asking.

And he was absolutely sure that William took him. That got Chance to lift forward on the couch.

"You found him," he guessed.

Marionette's head snapped up in surprise and Chance shot up from his seat.

"I- I didn't say that," the puppet defended. He started to back a small bit as the bear came up to him, desperation in his eye.

"Well, you found something. What is it?"

"I don't want to get your hopes up."

"I've been waiting seventeen- eighteen years for anything. I'm ready to hear whatever you've got. I don't care if it's a hunch or some kind of vision, I need to know," Chance doubled down.

Marionette was startled to be put on the spot. He began to tick with nervousness, would've been sweating if he could. This was what he came here to do, tell Chance his suspicion, and yet now when he was asking him for it, he was reluctant to do so. Because he knew what he was going to say wasn't what Chance wanted to hear. He began to inwardly panic, trying to talk Chance down and yet having his quiet pleas easily overtaken.

"Marion, look. I know we've had our differences. Hell, that's putting it lightly. I almost set you on fire and damn it, I can't say I wouldn't have done it again if I hadn't died trying. You don't owe me anything, but please, I need this. I need to know what happened to him," Chance nearly begged. "Up until the day I died, I had one of his bottles still in my drawer. His bottle, Mari! He was a baby and that son of a bitch Afton-!"

"Chance, I think I'm Sammy!" Marionette blurted out.

There was a long pause.

"What?" Chance asked. Then his eye widened as the words suddenly sunk in. "What?! Why would you say that?!"

"I-I-…" Marionette buckled instantly. Pulling his arms in and all but shrinking under Lefty gaze and voice, "I-I mean- I just thought that maybe-!"

"Where did you get that idea?!"

"I'm sorry, it was foolish of me to even suggest such a thing-!"

"No, I need to know, where did you get that idea?!" Chance continued to pry. His loud voice somewhere between offended and baffled.

"This was all just a terrible mistake! I should just go-!"

"No, hold up!"

Chance grabbed Marionette's arm to stop him.

His chest hatch popped open.

The Puppet gasped and his music box broke into a frantic rendition of 'Pop Goes the Weasel'. He tried to wrench his hand back, but Chance held firm, looking down at himself in equal shock.

"Chance?!" Marionette cried, pitch rising into staticky panic.

Chance promptly responded by thrusting a first to his chest and slamming the hatch shut again. From the way his eye darted around to the silence, it was clear that he hadn't expected that either. That was, perhaps, the only thing that forced him to calm down.

Marionette finally yanked his arm back out of Chance's grip. To which the bear shot up his hands in defense.

"Wait, don't go. I'm sorry, I wasn't- I didn't mean to do that. Look, just- Let's settle down…" Chance all but pleaded. A coughing sound broke through his voice box. Nerves, he supposed. Considering the situation, it made sense. "Tell me why you think this. I want to know."

"I have no evidence…" Marionette murmured. The music had stopped, and the static was dying down, but he still seemed wary. He kept a few feet between them as he rubbed his wrist.

"But you have a hunch," Chance reasoned. "Work with me, Kid. I want to figure this out just as bad as you do."

After a long moment of considering it- especially after the initial reaction-the puppet steeled his nerves and went for it.

"…When I confronted my- William. When I confronted William at the Red Lake, I asked him how he could do this to his own son. A foolish question, I know, but he asked if I was sure if I was his son. Likely just a way to get in my head, but after that I saw Henry and he told me to not look into it… He didn't say he was lying or wrong, he just told me to let it go. That made me suspicious, and then I noticed how similar Sammy and I looked as children, and as you said I was always sick and then I got better. I just…"

Marionette trailed off and Chance let it sink in. After at least thirty seconds of silence, the puppet spoke again.

"But again, it could just be nothing. I just always found it odd that we never found him… What do you think?"

"I don't know," Chance admitted. "…Did Henry always talk to you in riddles?"

"No, but sometimes he kept things from me."

Chance hummed, and coughed, and then stepped back towards the couch.

"…I've got to sit down," he said. Then he dropped onto his seat again, it creaking once more. No doubt someday it would collapse beneath him, but that day was not today. He stared at the coffee table with his hands on his knees. "… I don't know, what do you think?"

"I think there's a possibility that Henry knew something and was sparing me by asking me not to look. Maybe Henry found out something once he moved to the other side."

"That you're Sammy," Chance clarified.

"Maybe," Marionette quietly agreed.

"And why would Will do that?"

"…I don't know," Marionette confessed. "I have some theories. Maybe the original Marion passed away and William took to replacing him. With Sammy, of course, because he was so fixated on Henry. Maybe he purposefully killed Marion to replace him with Sammy. Perhaps there was an accident. As it is, either of them could be somewhere out there and I don't know, and Henry didn't tell me." It was now the puppet who had that desperation in his eyes as he requested, "…Chance, what do you think?"

"I think Will could've done it, but that doesn't mean I think Will did do it," Chance replied.

"You don't?"

"It's a pretty asinine idea if you think about it."

Marionette scoffed a little. "Perhaps but he was full of asinine ideas. Need I remind you that his final grandiose idea was to plant himself in a computer tower and hope someone came along to wrangle ahold of? He was very fortunate that it all fell together just right."

"William Afton was a bastard who deserves to rot at the bottom of that hell lake or whatever it was, but he was cunning. He set himself up for success. It was the follow-through where he failed," Chance said matter-of-factly. "…And you can't remember enough to say for sure?" he asked.

Marionette shook his head.

"Figures."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have raised your hopes."

"No, I'm glad you told me. I didn't even know it was a possibility, but now… I'd rather know," Chance said.

That seemed to be the final word on it. Chance sitting there on the couch and Marionette looming nearby. Excited voices brought Chance's eye back up to the television. Marionette's gaze followed too, watching the screen for a moment before sliding closer.

"Can I… stay with you for a bit?" he asked.

Chance looked up at him. Marionette gave him a tentative smile back. The bear coughed and lifted his hand from his knee to pat the couch. Marionette lowered himself down on the other side, crossing his legs out in front of him.

They sat alongside each other for a long moment. There was a replay of the touchdown on screen. Chance coughed and broke the silence between them with a single question.

"Want me to tell you more about Sammy?"

"Please," Marionette requested without taking his eyes from the screen.

"Alright," Chance agreed. "…For starters, he loved to laugh."