Chapter Text
The air seemed to be colder as the group stepped out of the mall and into the parking lot. Michael was zoned out as the others spoke. Carlton, nauseated and unable to stand without wobbling, placed a hand on Michael’s shoulder. The last living Afton was brought back to reality, to see the group staring at him.
“Are you okay, Michael?” Carlton asked. Michael stares for a moment longer at Carlton, then Charlie, then Clay. He nods. “Are you sure?”
“What’re you going to do now?” Jessica asked.
Michael sways. “Dad had to’ve lived somewhere, probably the old house. I’ll go check it out. See if he had a will or something.”
Clay couldn’t help but be suspicious of Michael. Had been since Charlie appeared on his doorstep with him saying Carlton had been kidnapped. “What would William have done with a will?” he asked.
Michael shrugged. “Might’ve passed on the ownership of the building. If not, we could tear Fazbear’s down and re-build.”
“You mean Freddy’s?” Lamar asked.
“No.” Michael shook his head. “This place isn’t the only location. There was another one open in nineteen eighty-five and Fredbear’s Diner back in eighty-three. Tear them all down.”
“I’ll drop you off then,” Charlie says as the groups diverge into their usuals.
Carlton looks like he doesn’t want to let go of Michael just yet, but his father ushers him into the car to go to the hospital. Marla, Lamar and Jason get in Marla’s car, and Michael slides into the backseat of Charlie’s car with Jessica beside him and John in the front.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jessica asks Michael when they’re on the road. “He was your father, I mean.”
“I’m fine,” Michael assured her. If he was honest, he didn’t believe the spring locks killed William. They didn’t the first time, why would they now?
“Michael,” Charlie calls front the front. “You’ve been inside one of the spring lock suits before… right?”
John and Jessica stared at Michael slightly alarmed, their minds going to the worst situation.
“Yeah, I was a guard at this place a couple’a years ago,” Michael responds. “I was a little reckless, and those kids got me.”
“They would’ve… tried to do that to us.” Jessica realised aloud. “If we hadn’t hidden under the stage.”
“Yeah.” Michael nods, half-assed. “Hurts a shit ton but it’s not guaranteed to kill you.”
“I mean--” John cut in, sounding unsure. “What’re the odds he survives it twice?”
Michael looks at him. “Low, but not unprobeable, considering who we’re dealing with.”
“You think she should go back and check?” Jessica asked.
“Nah, the kids will deal with him,” Michael says.
“We’re here,” Charlie mutters quietly, and Michael slips out of the car. “We’ll come back after we’re done packing,” Charlie calls.
Michael nods, and she drives away. He presses his old keys into the door, half-surprised they actually unlocked the door, and stepped inside.
The house was roughly the same as when he’d left, his father ever the clean freak, with a coat of dust over anything that wasn’t regularly used by the sole inhabitant. Michael by-passed most of the house and headed straight to his parent’s bedroom.
Michael ignores the photo frame on the bedside table and goes straight through his draws. Mostly clothes, nothing hidden under the fabric. Michael isn’t sure why he thought there would be; his father never hid anything from his mother, and the kids were never allowed into their room.
His next destination was his father’s workshop. The place his mechanical experience was cultivated. The workshop did have some interesting papers, bills and how he managed to own the entire abandoned mall, but nothing on who it’d go to in his death.
Next was his office; which he used when he was primarily involved with the financial part of the restaurants and not the entertainment part. Michael shifted through the papers slowly, paying attention to each detail when a knock on the door spooked him out of focus.
Clay grimaced, and Michael sighed.
“What’re you doing here?” He asked.
“Carlton wanted me to check up on you.” Clay replied.
Michael clicked his tongue and turned back to the papers in his hand. “Is that the only reason you’re here?”
Clay stared at the back of Michael’s head for a moment. “What happened to you?”
“What?”
“You just disappeared one day, and William refused to answer any questions about it. All he said was that you were alive and safe.” Clay said.
Michael pauses for a moment and turns to face the officer again. “I thought the whole town knew…” he muttered.
“Knew what?”
“It was a project gone wrong,” Michael says, shaking his head. “Thing exploded; I got the brunt of it.” he pulled his hair out of his face, showing off the white eye and burn scars. “I was completely blind in this eye. Dad was convinced it was a suicide attempt, which to be fair; he wasn’t completely wrong and put me into a mental hospital. I was there for four years.”
“Oh…” Clay wrinkled his nose. “Sorry for asking, then.”
“I thought you knew, to be honest.” Michael shrugged. “My school friends visited, so I figured people knew.”
“Guess I missed the memo,” Clay muttered, then paused. “Wait, was? Are you not blind anymore?”
Michael blinks. “Engineering is a fine skill when you master it.” he offers in explanation, going back to the papers.
“So… do you have anyone to lean on?” Clay asked. “Friends…?”
“I got some, yeah.” Michael nods. “Some people I met through work, mostly.” He pauses, as if realising something, then goes back to his task, though his brows furrowed in confusion. Clay chooses to ignore the strange act.
“Dad…” he hesitated. “He adopted a couple of kids after the other two died… they’d be the same age as Carlton around now… I wonder where they are…”
“William adopted children?” Clay asked. “I find that a little hard to believe.”
“In his own way,” Michael responded. Clay paused, then gave a heavy sigh. “Yeah.” Michael nodded.