Work Text:
"I hate that stupid restaurant and those stupid robots!" Michael screamed at his father, face red with pent up anger.
William yelled in return, "All of it is for you! For this family! Everything I do is for you and your sister!" The man ran a hand through his hair, pulling at it harshly out of frustration.
Michael balled his fist, fingernails piercing into his palm. "It's all you ever talk about! You never talk about us, about me-" His voice failing a little, changing tone from hatred to sorrowful from his father's lack of affection. "You never ask me how I'm doing! You never ask me anything at all anymore! I'm so sick of hearing everyday about those stupid robots and the restaurant, I'm tired of it!" The boy slammed his fist into the door frame, tears streaming down his crimson face, before quickly leaving into the bathroom, slamming the door loudly.
The older man sighed, unsure of how to further address the situation. He hadn't realized his son felt this way, that the topic of his line of business was so consistent in their conversations. Looking back now, he realized how frequently he brought it up, almost daily. He never thought it effected his boy like this, he figured he'd be happy to hear of those things, but conversely it was.
In the midst of his thinking, loud sobbing could be heard from the bathroom, snapping the man from his thoughts.
William began to walk to the bathroom, calming himself down from his previous hostile state. Stopping in front of the door, Michael's sobbing and loud, quick breathing can be heard clearer. The older man carefully knocked, making sure not to knock too hard, in fear of startling his son. With no answer, he politely asks to come in, in hopes of being able to soothe the boy.
After a few moments, he heard the soft click of the door unlocking. Pausing for a second to take a deep inhale, William turns the knob, slowly opening the door in attempts to not hit Michael on the assumption he could he near it. To his surprise, Michael had placed himself between on the floor between and tub and the seat. He observed the boy for a second, thinking of what to do now.
He outstretched his hand in attempts to help his son up off of the floor, oblivious to the fact that Michael's outburst sent him into an emotional collapse, triggering him into his now regressed mindset.
Looking at his hand, the boy shakes his head, burying himself into his knees.
William is foreign to the reasoning behind Michael acting this way, but understands that this is a thing that happens from time to time.
He begins to ease to the floor, sitting in a cris-cross position a foot or so in front of his son. Being at his level now, he notices Michael chewing rather harshly on his shirt collar. The man sets a hand on the boys shoulder, rubbing lightly in a circular motion in attempts to calm him. "I'm truly sorry, son," his thick British accent lacing his words, "I never meant to cause any of this. I'm sorry for never noticing how badly it affects you sooner." Michael glances at his father for a brief moment, tears still falling from his face.
"I apologize for yelling at you how I did, as a parent I shouldn't have done that. I would take back my actions if I were able." He goes on for a few moments, attempting to reassure and calm Michael down, but to no avail.
In attempts to lighten the atmosphere, the man jokes that he shouldn't do that, that his chewing is ruining the shirt. This causes Michael to cry even heavier, upsetting him even more. William immediately began to apologize, running a hand threw the boys hair in an attempt to calm him again.
The boy extends his arms, moving closer to hug his father. William, happy to oblige, accepts his sons offer. To the man's surprise, Michael scoots closer, climbing into his lap, hugging him tightly, his weeping seeming to get heavier.
William begins to apologize further, but is cut off rather abruptly by Michael's loud voice between his rapid breathing.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry father," Michael continues, "I'm so sorry-" his plead continues on for a few minutes, the whole time William is doing everything he can to ease the boy; running his hands threw his sons hair, rubbing his back, attempting to shush him, but he finally gets to Michael when he begins to reassure him that it's okay, there's nothing to worry about, and that his father loves him so.
"It's going to be okay Michael, I promise I'll do everything in my power to help you."
Michael's sobs slowly turn into hiccups and sniffles, his breathing regulates, his body relaxes. He hugs his father tighter, thanking him for everything he's done for him.
William picks the boy up shakily, something he hasn't done since Michael was a small child, gingerly working his way out of the bathroom and into his sons' room to set him down.