Chapter Text
Michael didn’t know where he was, everything looked familiar but at the same time, not really? The sun was way too bright, well this is what you get for staying underground for the remainder of your life, wallowing away in self pity and hatred. Maybe he deserved it. He rubbed his eyes, it stung from his hands rubbing too hard against his fragile eyes. The skin was dry and achy, probably because he had no luxury of lotion or anything like that — wait. His skin? Michael looked down in a panic, too afraid to even trust his own eyes now. He wasn’t a living corpse anymore. He wasn’t a dying color of purplish blue, being upheld by a metal contraption inside of his body. He was back to being himself. A human.
Okay what the fuck was happening? So it would be the understatement of the century that Michael was confused, scared and even a bit excited about what was happening. He was back to himself, but also he would have to face the consequences of his actions. Probably this was whatever god up in the clouds punishment for what happened. Or maybe a second chance? But who would give him a second chance?
Michael didn’t speak as he walked through the street, it was empty, except for some passersby waving his direction. No one grimaced or screamed when they saw him, which proved his theory to be correct, he was in fact alive and breathing again. The people that waved to him always whispered behind their backs, something about an Afton family and terrible tragedy. Or could he be that boy? Or he’s grown up so much if he is that little boy?
Okay now people were gossiping about him. Great second chance cloud god!
Michael kept on walking, he entered a park, in which he recognized. This was the same park that was adjacent to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. Michael quickly turned around, seeing the terrible building, but to his bitter surprise it wasn’t a terrible building, it was just a building. It wasn’t burnt to the ground, and it looked like it was following all the building codes, up to date on what the city wanted. It looked almost pleasant, like nothing happened there. That it was just a normal building with normal people, a normal history, that served normal pizza, and had normal birthday parties. And that every single child that came inside, there would be that number again leaving the building. But he wasn’t stupid, he knew that wasn’t the case.
He looked back to the park. He took three steps inside of the green landscape before stepping on something hard. He titled his head, bending down and picking it up. It was a missing poster. Of course. But it was what was on the missing poster that made his heart sink and bile rise up in his throat.
It was a missing poster of him.
Missing
Michael Liam Afton
Reward for his safe return:
$150,000.00
If you see him, please report to:
William Afton and Henry Emily
What the fuck was happening now? Michael saw the paper underneath his hand start to shake. He was missing. Was all that happened a bad dream? Was the animatronics trying to kill him actual people and his mind just conjured up something that wasn’t there? Wait, Henry was alive? Why did his father want to find him? Wasn’t his father a murderer? What the fuck was going on? Wait, why only 150,000 dollars, wasn’t he worth more?
He turned over the page, there was an address, and a phone number. It was the address to his house; he couldn’t believe that his father still lived there. Wait, wasn't his father dead? Oh god, this was so confusing.
Michael looked back to the pizzeria, maybe he could wait until the place closed and maybe meet his father when he left. Wait, no that was a stupid idea, his father was in a stupid rabbit costume and dead. He couldn’t just meet a ghost, or maybe that was happening.
July 5th.
William looked at the calendar, it had been three years since Michael had gone missing and nothing. This was the third anniversary since he went missing and every single year, William would tell himself that this was the day that he was coming back. Today was the day, but that never happened. So, he started to lose hope.
He never lost hope in his son, he knew that Michael was a strong kid and that he would find his way back to him. But he started to lose hope if he was even alive at this point. No person would keep the child that they kidnapped alive for three years. That was just stupid, and William knew that.
“Daddy?” William turned around to see a child with tear stains on their eyes standing at the edge of the stairs. They held a stuffed bear in their hands that had a little top hat on it. It was Henry's gift to him when he turned eight.
“Evan? What are you doing up?” William got up, picking up Evan. Evan sniffed, putting his head on William’s shoulder. “Another bad dream?”
“Mhm.” Evan whimpered.
“What happened this time?”
“Mikey was in it. He was saying all these bad things about you and papa. He scared me and then he started to say some naughty words at me. He called me a terrible little brother.” Evan sniffed. William slummed.
“Hey, if Mikey was here, he would never say anything like that to you.” William put down Evan.
“Do you think that he wants to find us?” Evan asked.
“What makes you say that?”
“Nothing.” Evan clutched the bear harder. William sighed and picked up Evan again. He walked up the stairs, to his room. He passed by Elizabeth and Charlotte’s room, but they both were sleeping soundly. William walked into Evan’s small room and placed him down in his bed.
“Are you okay, daddy?” Evan asked.
“Oh course. You don’t need to worry about me, that is my job. My job as a father is to worry about you.” William poked Evan’s nose. He giggled slightly and turned to his side, not facing his father. “Love you, Ev, have good dreams.”
“Love you too, daddy.”
William walked out of the room, closing the door behind him softly. He walked down the stairs, sitting on the couch. He had brought a beer with him, just wanted to get the terrible thoughts out of his head. He had never forgiven what happened to Michael. If only he was there nothing bad would have happened to him.
“You know you shouldn’t be drinking that. The doctor says it is very bad for your health.” William looked up to see Henry looking down at him. He grabbed the beer out of William’s hand, dumping the contents into the sink and then throwing the can away.
“Hey. I paid good money for that.”
“How much?” Henry raised his eyebrow.
“2 bucks.” William grumbled as Henry chuckled. He sat down next to him; William put his head on his shoulder. “You know what today is.”
“Yeah, three years to the dot.” Henry sighed. “I know how hard this is for you.”
“And you, too. He’s your son as well.”
“But you're his father.” Henry said. William sighed, not wanting to say anything else. He couldn’t let his feelings of hopelessness get in the way, not again. “What about Evan, still getting nightmares?”
“Yeah. I am thinking about taking him to a doctor or something. Maybe they could prescribe him medicine to sleep better. I just hate him being this way, it makes me feel … powerless. I’m his father, I should be able to do something.”
“I know.” Henry said.
“I just wish I could bring back Mikey right now, with the snap of my fingers. I wish everything could go back to normal. I don’t know how long we can keep the restaurant and that’s our main source of income. Liz and Charlie are way too young for a job, and they still need to go to school. I don’t know if we can keep the house anymore. And I don’t want to move, what if Mikey can’t find us if we move.” William shook, he tried hard to keep the tears from his eyes. Henry rubbed his back, kissing the back of his head. He hated to see William like this.
“Hey, Will.”
“Mh.”
“Don’t worry, Mikey will find our way back to us. And everything will be —” Henry and William both shot up when there was a knock on the door. A single knock, nothing more and nothing less. It was loud too. Soon after, William heard the footsteps of his children come down the steps. Elizabeth, and her bed head, was standing in front of Evan, who was peeking out behind her. Charlie rubbed her eyes and looked to the door.
There was another knock on the door, the same volume. It looked like it shook the door itself.
“Dad?” Elizabeth said through her drowsy voice. “Who’s at the door?”
So, Michael waited at the building, but it seemed that no one was coming in and out through the building. Maybe it was closed down, and someone made it look so ‘pretty.’ He sighed, putting the back of his head to the cold window. Inside of the building everything looked normal, even safe.
“What are you waiting for young lad?” An older gentleman asked Michael. He stood up, looking at the man. He had a kind smile on his face and his light blue eyes held worry and some kindness.
“For the building to open up.”
“Oho. You will be waiting for a long time. The restaurant doesn’t open today.” The man said.
“Why?”
“Well after the owners got married, well their son went missing. What a tragedy, it really hit hard for them. They could never open on this anniversary of when he went missing. That poor boy, Michael, God I hope that someone has found him.” The old man said, his voice a bit raspy as if he was starting to cry. “What a ball of sunshine. He was something, such a bright future awaiting him. Oh, and his fathers, oh they loved him. William always talked about Michael this, Michael that. Well, he never favored him, but he did love him.”
Michael could feel a smile forming on his face, but he quickly shook that away.
“Well, it seems that Michael had a good relationship with his father. By the way, what was William’s last name? I think — I think I might have some information that might be beneficial to finding his son.”
“Oh, you do, do you?” The old man’s eyes widened. “That would be amazing, he would be more than happy to hear you out. He has an odd last name if you ask me. Action, no Actor. I don’t remember off the top of my head.”
“Afton?”
“Oh yes, that is it.” The old man smiled. “You know him?”
“Know of him, yes.” Michael replied.
“Well, it was nice meeting you young man. If you want to find him, his house is past this street all you need is to turn left. The number is 1869, two story house. Well, I hope you have a grand day, young man.” The old man patted his shoulder and walked away.
“By the way, what is your name?”
“Oliver. Oliver Herringbone.” The old man — Mr. Oliver — smiled as he spoke. “What is your name, young man?”
“Mich — Mike.” Michael stopped.
“Well, Mike. Enjoy your stay here at Strandford.”
Michael followed the man’s directions, he walked down the street, took a left and looked for the house. The old man should have mentioned that all the houses were two stories high. This was going to be harder than he thought. Michael thought he was looking for a run-down house, one that looked like ‘Hey, I am harboring a serial killer!’ but no. The house that he arrived in looked almost normal. It had a large apple tree that swayed in the wind. There were flowers in the garden and small fairy lights that littered the patio. This was not the house of a serial killer.
He walked up to the house; he opened the gate that made a small creek. He walked through the garden, looking at the different colored flowers. He could see small footprints of a child that had recently trudged through the garden. As he walked nearer to the door, his heart started to pound faster. He couldn't do this.
He almost bailed out when he noticed something in the window. There was a small opening of the curtains that showed his father, but he looked different, way different. He looked fuller, a bit happier but at the same time hopeless and tired. He was stalker and well built, actually looking like he was taking care of himself. But he had slight dark circles underneath his eyes. He was sitting next to Henry, Michael didn’t remember Henry Emily that much, there were just some memories here and there.
That sight of his father gave Michael the courage to go up there and knock but he could only knock once. He heard the noise of someone getting up and walking to the door, but it wasn’t opened. He knocked again, the doorknob squeaked, it turned open and the door slowly opened up.
“C-can I help you?” A tired voice spoke. Michael swallowed the bile that was building up in his throat.
“Father, it’s me —” Michael started. William’s eyes widened as the door opened more.
“Michael!” He screamed. Michael almost collapsed from his father colliding with him, wrapping his arms around his neck. “Michael! Oh my god! Mikey!”
“Michael?” Henry came walking up to William. “Michael, is it really you?”
“Hey.”