Chapter Text
Michael was laughing.
He was laughing so hard.
This was so much fun, Michael thought happily. His friends expressed their mutual agreement through their own loud, boisterous laughter.
But his ears rang sour as Joseph started up his wailing again. "Michael, I wanna go home!" Snot bubbled grossly on his face. "I want Mommy and Daddy!"
Michael shook the red out of his eyes, grabbing his half-brother roughly by the arm and hoisting him onto the stage. "What's wrong, Joey? Don't tell me you're afraid of ol' Fredbear!" Michael's friends joined him on the stage, teasing the 6 year old along with him.
Joseph sobbed as he was dragged closer and closer to the menacing character in question. The faded faux fur and misshapen, melted face casting seemed to stretch on for forever in his eyes. Joseph screamed, thinking for a brief moment that the bear and his rabbit counterpart were watching him. They were waiting for him. They had been expecting him, and he was far from fashionably late to their party.
"Or is he not good enough for you?" Michael started up his taunting again, egged on by the praise the boys beside him gave. "Seemed pretty good when you were cuddling that little plush version of him last night." Joseph pushed his little legs as hard against the wood as he could, trying to distance himself from the gargantuan creations. Of course, it was no use against Michael's slightly pudgy, too awkward preteen body. He didn't even budge.
"Ew, the kid still sleeps with a fucking toy? What a fag." 'Freddy' chuckled from the edge of the stage, the end of a lollipop sticking out through his mask. The other boys laughed along.
Michael let out a desperate laugh as they joked, whipping his head to face the kid. A sick idea blossomed in his mind. "If you're such a faggot, Joey, just give the big bear a kiss!" Joseph cried louder, beginning to panic. The boys surrounding him, wearing masks of people that Daddy had told him were friends, scared him as they laughed.
Michael lifted his screaming brother up, forcing him to face the large bear and yanked on his hair. Joseph pushed back, beginning to hyperventilate as he tried to keep away from this nightmare caricature of his Fredbear.
"Go on, bitch! Kiss him if you love him so much, faggot!" Michael had hate in his voice as he yelled. His faceless audience applauded his violence, fueled his hate, gave him the attention he so desperately craved in all of these acts. Joseph shook his head, clinging to his brother and begging him to stop.
It was like a switch went off in Michael's head. Of course the little brat wouldn't do what he said if he wasn't coddled. No, no, no; Mommy and Daddy had spoiled the little shit too much for that. In the blink of an eye, Michael was giving Joseph a sickeningly sweet smile, pinching his tear-stained cheeks harder than he needed to.
"If you kiss Mr. Fazbear like I told you to, I'll take you home Joey." Michael's face hurt from the hysterical grin he wore.
Joseph was hesitant, calming himself down just enough to speak. His lungs relaxed as much as they could as he stopped nearing hyperventilation. "Y-you promise?" The poor boy was so innocent. He didn't even see the lie that was bleeding into Michael's voice. "Just one- one kiss and then ho- ome?"
Michael nodded, his grip still unyielding on the pest. "Just a little one." Mikey sounded so much like Daddy, Joseph thought. Why shouldn't I believe him?
Joseph affirmed himself with a shaky nod, adjusting himself in Michael's arms, inching ever closer to that big, toothy grin. He could count the teeth easily from this distance if he had been a year or two older. Hesitantly, Joseph sniffled, closing his eyes and leaning forward in hopes that his face would land in a spot that Michael would accept. He was too afraid to see it through, didn't want to ruin his Fredbear forever-
Michael dropped him.
Joseph screamed.
It wasn't a big drop, just a few inches, but it felt like Joseph had been sent careening into the ajar maw. The older boys giggled as Joseph began to cry again, eyes unmoving from the teeth that almost seemed to stare back. Michael gave him some bullshit excuse, and readjusted him, almost listening to the voice that told him to stop when he saw 'Bonnie' raise one of the cameras they had bought at the drugstore.
Michael coaxed Joseph into one more try. Now that his audience had a medium to preserve this memory in, Joseph would never leave the pizzaria without a photo of him kissing the life-sized replica of his best friend. Joseph shook as he was pushed even closer to the wide mouth, and it briefly registered in his mind that it was big enough to encompass his whole head. He was almost there, tears streaming down his face as he-
Snap.
The flash from the camera scared the anxious little boy so hard he jumped. Michael lost his grip for a moment, after trying to hold him so high up for so long.
Joseph knocked right into that slightly-ajar mouth.
The sharp movement was like the first domino in an intricate design, setting off the faulty springlocks within. That was why Uncle Henry had stitched the label, "handle with Care, refrain from sharp movements when in use," on the back of the suit. There were rules for a reason, but none of the rules were there to protect Joseph as he heard the pop and crackling of his own skull being shattered.
In the next minute or so, there were four sounds that Michael would never forget.
The door slamming as Michael's guests ran.
The click of Fredbear's jaw as Michael pried a limp body from his mouth.
The two thuds, the first as his brother hit the ground, the second as he followed.
That first scream that escaped his lungs.
Michael had never had tears come to his eyes so quickly in his life. There was too much red for Joey to be ok. It was all over everything; their clothes, his face, that stupid fucking bear. He was just trying to play a game for his friends, he never meant for Joseph to be hurt.
He was frantic, hands shaking so hard that they could barely work as he flipped over his brother's cooling body. Michael wished he never did.
Joseph's face was so much worse than the crushed back of his head. His little face was caved in and deformed, a deep purple covering the bruised flesh.
Michael let out another terrified scream, tears escaping whether he wanted them to or not. He backpedaled away from the gore, vomit spewing grossly from his mouth as he doubled over. He shook violently, unable to do anything but scream in fear as he stared at the lifeless body mere feet away from him. Oh, God, what was he going to tell Mother and Father?
Father.
~
Michael fought for breath as he awoke, sweat covering his body from the memory. He was Twenty-two years old and still having that same damned nightmare. He lit a cigarette, grabbing at the motel nightstand for his lighter as he shook.
The first breath was like heaven. He shook still, but knew how to calm that part. The breathing bit was only for the hyperventilating.
As soon as the cigarette neared the butt, the young adult kicked off his blankets and rolled up a leg on his boxers.
The brown mark on his skin left behind looked identical to the hundreds of marks adorning his body.
He laid in bed for a few more minutes, simply relishing in the few quiet moments he ever managed to get in the paranoid brain of his.
Michael was knocked out of his momentary meditation as an annoying beeping began blaring from his phone. He rolled over, and picked it up without checking the number. "What the fuck, man, it's 7 am on a Sunday," he growled into the receiver.
"He's back."