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“Michael. Though the path ahead may seem filled with obstacles, and at times, you’ll feel as if there is no way around them, you are stronger than you know.
If only he had a way to reverse that day, not only the time, but their positions. He would do anything, Michael would do anything to change what happened that day. He knew he couldn’t, though. Evan was gone.
And it tore him apart from the inside, constantly.
Michael watched as his younger brother’s upper body was crushed, the dark blood trickling down the sentient animatronic’s outer skin. The normally golden fur of Fredbear was stained with the red pigment of Evan’s blood.
Golden. That was all that flashed in Michael’s head for weeks, no, months, no, years. He couldn’t get over it. He couldn’t escape the image; the image of his poor brother falling to his antics. It was his fault.
The older he got, the angrier Michael grew at his father. Michael didn’t want sympathy. No, he didn’t want anyone to feel bad for him. It’s not like anyone would, anyway. He didn’t want to shift the blame, either. But it was true, it was true that his father- No , he refused to call him that anymore. It was true that William also played a major role in Evan’s death. He had never cared about any of them.
As upsetting as it was to admit, Michael had always seen Evan’s distress when it came to his father’s animatronic franchise. Regardless of whether the rumors of William murdering five children in cold blood were true, he was a volatile man. Michael knew he never stopped him from antagonizing his little brother on purpose, but he never really thought about why. Now, he knew exactly why.
Michael was finally an adult, and if he was being honest, he wanted to burn William and his entire fucking franchise to ash. If William was dead, no one else would have to suffer. Not his only surviving sibling, not his mother, no more innocent children. Maybe, to make up for it, he’d let something of William’s kill him. Just like he killed Evan.
Maybe he spoke too soon. Maybe he should just let him rest. Maybe that’s what Evan would want, for him to be calm and live in prosperity forever. To simply forget he died, to be grateful he existed.
“Are you mad at me?” Michael’s voice trembled as he spoke, the morning sun shining on him and the grave that he stood in front of.
“A little bit,” a familiar voice responded, “but I have no reason to be.” The voice was staticy, the words that emerged from nothing were barely intelligible. If Michael were to compare it to something, he’d compare it to someone drowning. Crying out for help underwater, but to no avail.
“You should be furious,” Michael said as tears began to prick at his eyelids, “I took your life from you. I made your last moments hell.”
“What is the point of resentment towards you, when I have him?”
Oh, how selfish could Michael be? Forgetting his own brother’s wants, his own brother’s feelings. Rather than considering what his brother, the victim of his foolishness, wanted, he let himself drown in his sorrows.
Standing there, blaming himself, wanting Evan to be so mad at him. Simply forgetting that it’s not his pain, it’s not him. It was never him. From the day the young Afton’s life ended, to the funeral months after, and to today: where he stands above the dirt, his brother just under six feet below.
But now he knows. Evan’s blame has fallen onto William, hasn’t it? What an idiot he was to not see that. Even he himself knew William was to blame for at least a quarter of his suffering.
The voice has faded. The world is quiet, not a sound is made. Michael’s world, void of life without Evan. Filled with sorrow, grief, regret. Lacking sound, lacking hope.
The soul of Evan will be freed soon, Michael would make sure of that, but his memory would never leave. His voice will ring in the Afton’s mind forever, but someday Evan will be free. Some day, his golden prison that refuses to let him go, Michael is sure, will be nothing more than a scrap.
Michael knew that William hated him. Frankly, he couldn’t care less. William was less of a father than Michael was happy about Evan’s death. Some day, that wicked man would be dead and he’d pay for his horrible actions in hell.
For now, it was finally Michael’s chance. His chance to change everything, to reverse every vile decision William made. Though it disgusted him to even think about profiting his father, Michael determinately stepped through the doors of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. Eleven fifty-eight at night.
Maybe the Afton tribulations will continue forever, never letting go of the thin thread it has its sharp claws on. At any rate, Michael is taking his chance to give Evan the justice he deserves, starting from the very beginning. Starting from the inside.
I believe in you, my dear brother.”