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“Uncle Will, will you help me please?”
William Afton froze over the pan of chicken - his hand nearly dropping the salt into the pasta. He caught himself quickly, nearly oversalting the chicken (damn it Charlotte) before setting it on the counter and nodding mutely, “...What do you need Charlotte?”
He could see the little girl counting to 10 before she held up a drawing of a white and pink bear with a purple stomach, “I want to make this for daddy. You make things.”
Pause. Stare. He flipped the chicken with the ease of an expert, “...You want to make a better drawing? Charlotte I’m sure your father will love it.” This was more uncomfortable than a hot kitchen. He hated being interrupted doing things on a good day but being interrupted by Charlotte Emily in the middle of cooking which he liked to be precise and focused…
He was about to call Henry before he remembered he sent Henry out to get groceries and Clara had volunteered to go with them. Clara had enlisted Michael and he had - frankly - forgotten that six year old Charlotte Emily was there.
“No. I want to make him.” She tapped the bear, “I want to make him please. I want to make him talk and move. I’m not good at making stuff-”
His mouth had this annoying habit of disconnecting from his brain when talking to her. He did not like Charlie. He did not want to make her life easier - but he did not wish her bed. Still there was something about the creature connected to Henry that made him forget his desire to be left alone and away from her.
“You’re very good at making things. Remember your little fairy circle? With the flowers and the ribbons…” where he’d used his endo to scare the hell out of the boys who had tormented her, “That was…very good.”
“Not stuff that moves! Daddy can carve wood and you make metal things, I want to make Helpy out of metal.”
“Helpy? Why is he helpy?” that made him turn away from the chicken and stare at her, “So you want to make an animatronic.”
“Yes.” her head bobbed like a duck eating bread, “I want to make him move and wiggle. For father’s day.”
Ah. Joy. Father’s day.
William Afton had not wanted to be a parent. Mostly he’d had an idea that people who are not well have, where they know that they are not good people and that they shouldn’t have children. He did not regret it (per say) but he had not set out with the idea of having kids. His mind was a shaky house built on a shifting foundation of sand and a screaming father and a kind grandmother who taught his father how to beat and hit and scream. It was unbalanced and truth be told if he’d stuck to that idea the world might have seen him as less of a monster than what he would be come.
Yet. Here he was. With people. Requiring he celebrate birthdays and father’s day. Why would he celebrate his parents? It was nice having gifts given to you as well as praise but the whole exercise felt like a lie. He did not like liars, if he lied, he’d get caught.
(The irony. The irony.)
“...It’s going to be difficult.” He turned from the pan, stopped, and turned back to flip it onto a plate, “...And you’re going to help me.”
Her eyes went wide, “What?” she stared, “I-I thought-”
“What? You thought that you were going to have me use my time and supplies? Absolutely not.” He smiled in what he thought was an ingratiating smile, “I will teach you, just like I’m teaching Michael.”
He failed to put together that Charlie looked deeply uncomfortable, scratching the back of her neck before coming to a conclusion.
“Okay Uncle Will.” she nodded, beaming up at him, “I want to make dad something nice.”
He nodded, folding up the photo. She looked determined, a small angry puppy struggling to do a trick, “...What prompted this? This is a big gift it’s going to take-” A few days “Awhile. We’ll have to work quickly too.” He pressed his lips together. It would be relatively simple, if somewhat small. He had enough plastic and fiberglass left over from Foxy. Spray paint. She could at least try and paint the thing. Except she’d muck it up but-
“Hello!” Henry’s voice rang out, “We have groceries, we have picnic supplies. Sorry that took so long we made an unscheduled stop for pie! Eh? Ehhh!” Will raised an eyebrow at Henry who was carrying Evan in a sling over his chest, at Clara who was holding Elizabeth with an easy smile. Michael had a big of something in his hands looking hopefully at his father before moving to help his mother.
William Afton frowned.
They looked like a family. Henry looked like a parent, like he belonged with Michael and Elizabeth and Evan. Like Clara was his loving doting wife instead of his-
(and he is still haunted by Clara locking him in, even by accident, trapping him in a place and then revealing she struggled with him and thought he was a child…)
His frown turned upward, “Took you all long enough. Michael? Want to help me with the chicken?”
“Oh-Okay.” He smiled, “I just have to put this away first.” He held up the bag, “I um - I’ll be right back dad!” he bolted up the stairs and William, out of pure spite, annoyed, he turned to Charlie and smiled as warmly as he could, “Charlie, do you want to help me? Mike’s busy.”
She raised her eyebrows, then nodded. When Michael returned to the kitchen he found everyone sitting there, Charlie in a vaulted place of honor beside William. He sat Clara next to his other side leaving Michael beside Evan, between Evan and Elizabeth. It was a petty gesture but the boy had not come when called and…and…
Father’s day.
I’m trying. He doesn’t speak, trying to focus on each face in turn. Managing to return to something resembling normal, he chats and dominates the conversation as he’s used to until he spots Michael staring at his food, halfway between a frown and an angry growl. You hurt his feelings. No matter how much one person could justify that it was a stupid thing, his six year old son liked to sit beside him during dinner and William had deliberately set Charlotte beside him. You selfish piece of shit.
William Afton had an inner voice. Everyone has an inner voice, sometimes louder, sometimes angrier, sometimes quieter, sometimes sadder. Sometimes the inner voices are characters, sometimes they are shaped as ideal versions of ourselves, sometimes they are images that others have of things that others have created. The inner voice that helps us survive, that warns us, protects us.
William’s was Bonnie the bunny.
Bonnie sat, crossing from person to person in his mind. You selfish little bastard. Angry he didn’t jump? Are you that controlling? What a fool you are. A pathetic little worm, an insect. The massive rabbit shook it’s head, Attacking your son like that, what a pathetic little-
“That’s enough.”
The adults raised their heads. Elizabeth bobbed upward and Evan began to sniffle.
“Will?” Hen stared at him, “Everything okay?”
“...Fine. Sorry. I was thinking out loud.” He rose, turning to the fridge, “Ice cream?” He gave two scoops to Michael, biting back annoyance when he saw the boy didn’t notice it. Clara volunteered to do the dishes and Henry smiled, lifting up Evan. The baby only laughed with Evan and Will turned his attention to Elizabeth and Charlotte and Michael. Michael was still silent, staring at his spoon and ice cream before shaking it off like a little dog and smiling up at his father. He smiled down at him, looking back just in time to see Bonnie sitting casually at the table, staring at him with those same human eyes. The creature shrugged, leaning forward and put it’s chin in it’s hands.
He said nothing and turned away.
—-
Henry watched Michael pad up the stairs to his room. He followed, discretely, watching the boy close the door to his room at the top of the stairs. He smiled. Will was always so nonchalant then regretful after. His best friend needed more control over his moods, but Michael…
Henry knew Michael liked making things. Art, music - he was creative. He helped Jeremy make Bonnie ears and a Bonnie tail because (he’d said) dad taught him how to sew. The way the little boy had described Jeremy’s joy had been a joy to watch. Knocking gently on the little boy’s star covered door he paused, “Mikey? It’s your Uncle.”
Silence.
“Mike-”
“S’Open.” Henry gently opened the door. He found Mike staring at items on the bed, looking over his shoulder, “Does dad suspect anything?”
“Nope.” Henry nodded, “Not a thing. Son, I wish you’d let me help you with this…”
“No.” Michael looked like William. Everyone saw it. He looked the most like his dad when he was angry however, angry and determined and staring at the pair of scissors he’d weeded out of Henry. Adult scissors, good and sharp. He stared at them, frowning at the fabric before he looked up at Henry and looked away.
“What’s wrong?” Henry Emily pulled off his glasses and crossed his arms. The kid looked nervous. He’d requested that he be allowed to make something special for his father. The little boy had an idea in his head of building him a creature - just as his father had made him Foxy three years ago (Henry didn’t have the heart to tell him that it had been a sample from a manufacturer.) The little boy had shown him a drawing and Henry had taken him over to the sewing shop and found a cheap upholstery fabric, a pair of scissors, and a needle and thread but…
“Uncle Henry?”
“Yes Mike?”
“...I don’t know what to do.”
Henry smiled. The difference between Will and Michael was that, as Michael aged, he was more willing to ask for help and assistance. Staring at Henry from kneeling beside his little bed he gently stroked his fabric before looking up at him, “It has to be perfect.”
“I figured.” Henry chuckled, “Listen. You want to help me sew you and I can do it after school okay? I’ll tell your dad you want to spend some time with me. Does that sound good?”
“...Okay.” Michael bit his lip and Henry saw the ghost of William in his face, “He can’t know. It has to be a surprise.”
Henry grinned, walking forward to ruffle his hair and smile. The room was a mess, toys and clothes scattered everywhere, drawings and paper stacked on the desk. He saw candybar wrappers scattered on the floor and piles of dirty clothes and he smiled. It was a little boy’s room.
It was wonderful.
“Don’t tell Dad okay? It has to be a surprise.” Michael nodded mutely, “I’m gonna go to pee okay?” He rose and threw his arms around Henry’s leg in a hug before he ran out the door. He paused, freezing in the doorway, before waving weakly, “Hello Father.” and turning - mumbling about the bathroom.
Henry had come to the conclusion - after his and Will’s argument, after the toys, after everything - that William Afton was jealous. Jealous of him, as a father - somehow thinking that he had it together. After he had pushed him away during that nasty bout of the flu it had only gotten worse, with Will struggling with some unseen emotion. He had no sense of Will’s history beyond the fact that the man’s father and to a lesser extent his mother and grandmother were the sort of people you saw in a horror movie that created a villain-
(Henry’s first thought was Norman Bates’s mother, and he had kept that to himself realizing his friend would not appreciate being compared to a murderer.)
Will, frozen at the top of the stairs, looked annoyed, his eyes narrowing. He pulled a cigarette seemingly out of nowhere and lit it, leaning against the wall, “Saying goodnight?”
“Yes.” Henry paused, “Mike asked me to help him with something.” He studied the bathroom and wondered if the poor little boy was too scared to come out, “Nothing to worry about Will. Nothing to be anxious over.”
“Who said I was? You’re his Uncle, Henry.” Henry watched his best friend pad up the stairs and pat him on the shoulder. He wished Will didn’t smoke so much. When they first met he’d been heavy - bordering on a round nerd stereotype. The stress of parenting and existing as an adult had worn the weight away and he wished his friend would put some of it back on so he didn’t look like a walking corpse.
“By the way.” William’s expression was mild, “Charlotte expressed some interest in spending some time with me after school. I was thinking that we could rotate a few days for the next few weeks? Especially with Fazbear coming in to observe as it were. I’ll showcase more of the show, you showcase more of the technical details.”
“We both should showcase the technical details.” Henry smiled weakly, confused. He knew Will didn’t like Charlie-
(No. He liked her. She was just a kid, she pushed his buttons.)
“But if you…I thought you and she didn’t get along. After her contract…” she’d meant to be so cute. It was cute, but it was also immature and he’d had a long talk with her about mental health after that. His friend looked at him, puzzled and confused, “...You want to spend time with her.”
(Why was he so uneasy about this.)
“She’s practically my niece.” William Afton beamed, “I think it only prudent. Besides. What if Michael and she got married?”
(Henry didn’t think they would. Michael treated Charlie like a sister. That was evident. He’d had siblings himself once upon a time.)
Will clapped Henry on the back, “Listen. Monday and Wednesday and Friday I’ll take Charlotte and Michael after school…”
“I want him on Saturdays.”
William frowned at that, “What?”
“I want him on Saturday.” Henry said, “Mike. I was thinking about taking Charlie on regular hikes. Mike could come.”
He could bring Mike’s little project out into the wilderness. While the thought of being out in the forest was disquieting (he had no illusions about it. Being pressed into green trees and dark rich earth was far too familiar, far too eye opening, far too…awake). Besides, Charlie wouldn’t tell.
Or perhaps…
“Look. Let’s say Monday, Wednesday, Friday you take Charlie and Mike. I’ll…take them Saturday.” He beamed, “That works right?”
“I suppose it does.” Will smiled in return, looking jolted by his friend’s touch, “I’ll be looking forward to it then. Spending time with …Clara and I. It will be very engaging.” He nodded mutely and Henry tried to ignore how Will’s features turned severe as he saw Michael leaving the bathroom, padding back to his room without the two men noticing.
—-
One-
“The first step to good endo construction is a schematic.”
“Schemy.”
William turned away from his computer, “...Sche-mat-ic.”
“Sche-mi-” Charlie stared, “Drawing.” She pointed, “You’re making a drawing. Then you’re going to - what?” Charlie had tied her hair behind her head and was watching him intently, her bright green eyes focused on the computer in front of him, “What are you using that for?”
“I’m going to make Helpy’s body.” William gestured, “And this is going to tell me how big he has to be, and the size of the metal I need to cut. It’ll be so precise, he’ll be able to wave his hand and walk a few feet. Once you wind him up of course…”
“You can’t do it without the computer?” she sounded skeptical, “Daddy said you could calculate how to build a robot with just a pencil and a piece of paper.”
“...Well I could.” William felt a flush of pride. Henry was always too kind, rightfully so. His math and schematics were the heart of what they did, “And I can, but…this is a gift for your father so we want it to be precise.” He nodded mutely and clacked a few keys, “Here, do you want me to show you how it works?”
“Yes.” She scrambled up to the seat, “Please.” The computer screen in front of the two of them showed a black network of squares. She watched William hit a few keys before hitting a few more. His fingers flew over the hard round keyboard and he felt at peace.
He liked programming. Building, mechanics, robotics. It made sense in a way that he couldn’t articulate. He had total control over the machine, and the machine served him in creating new life. Were he a God, computers and metal, computers and robotics were his angels - tools.
“Everything is precise, everything has a reason for being the way that it is. Pieces fit into pieces and there’s no…emotion to understand behind it do you see? I tell the computer what I want - a bear, such and such shape, such and such size. The computer tells me the length and width of the metal I have to use and I shape it. I weld it together.” He finished his renders, the Computer Aided drafting software was one of the best purchases he’d ever made. Expensive, unbelievably expensive, but it was worth it when the numbers flashed on the screen. He wrote them down, smiling, “...nothing unusual to comprehend. No emotions, nothing scary or …bad…or wrong.”
He gestured at the computer, “You see Michael? When you put effort into making things precise, you can move the world, you can make anything you-” he paused, realizing it was Charlie sitting beside him looking confused, “Well. Sorry, I always assumed he’d be doing this with me.” His gaze strayed to Foxy, sitting under his tarp, “...He…”
“Ask him.” Charlie kicked her feet, “He really loves you you know.”
“...I know.” He made another note, “...I know. Here. Come on then. I’m going to cut the metal pieces.”
William kept his equipment in neat rows against the wall, “Sheering machine for sheet metal, soldering iron, welding torch. Basically all we need.” He put a set of gloves on and went for welding goggles, hesitating. He reached under the table and passed a second set to the girl standing beside him, “For your eyes.”
“For your eyes.” she strapped them on, “I’ve seen daddy use these. I know what some of this stuff is.” she paused, William grimacing. She was always such a knowledgeable little bitch-
“Daddy…doesn’t let me near them. You’re letting me near them.” She sounded interested, “and I’m not bullshitting you Uncle Will, that’s pretty cool.”
He felt himself smile. Finally, doing something right, “Don’t tell your father I let you use that language then, yeah? Here. I’ll cut it. Then when we get into the welding I’ll let you help me okay?”
“Okay!” the prospect of playing with fire, with any sort of fire, was very much encouraging for any child - no matter the circumstances.
—-
Two -
“I had a thought, and I made him a little plastic skeleton.” Henry was sitting on a log, Michael sitting beside him, “See? So when we sew the pieces on him he’ll be able to stand up.” The little creature filled his hands, skeleton pointed. He was busy sewing a torso, “Quick and precise.”
“You’re gonna let me do some right?”
“Yes. Michael.” Henry smiled, “I’m going to let you sew some. You just have to let me do the precise stuff okay? Don’t worry. Your dad is gonna know you worked on this.” Henry hesitated, “It’s really important for you to do this isn’t it.”
“Yeah.” Charlie was very engrossed with a castle made of dirt and earth and grass. Stanley was covered with dirt along with one of the other toys she’d brought along. Theodore had also joined them. Michael had taken a break to sit beside him, sipping on a juice box. Henry continued to sew as Michael spoke, “I’m gonna make things just like he does when I grow up.”
“You’re going to do great.” Henry smiled. Then he paused, “...Mike.”
“Yeah?” he sipped on his juicebox more.
“Mike, does your dad still get…angry with you? When you were little I know he used to yell at you. And sometimes he’d hit you. You know that…you know he doesn’t mean that right? Does he still do that?”
“No.” Michael’s voice was firm, “No. He loves me. Ever since Easter he loves me and he says I fought back and I had to.” he smiled, “He said I was a superhero.”
A superhero. Henry’s fingers didn’t stop sewing, “Mikey…Peter still can’t breath right. You really hurt him.” His fingers stopped, “His nose is all scrunched up. You did right in stopping Charlie but you…” he exhaled, “Did you like hitting him?”
Michael screwed up his face in confusion.
“Did you like it when he was hurt?”
Michael Afton stared at his shoes, then stared at Charlie playing with the leaves. He looked confused and upset for a moment.
“It felt good when Dad…When father was proud of me.” He shook his head, “That was important. That’s still important.” He frowned up at Henry, brushing dark hair out of his eyes. Will had never looked like that, never looked so…concerned and confused. Only flashes. Only brief moments, “...I didn’t know Peter has trouble breathing.”
He paused, “I saved Charlie though! There is that!”
Yes. There was that. Henry sighed, “Mike, don’t cause pain just for the sake of causing pain. Did your dad at least tell you that?”
“Oh yes!”
Boy and man studied each other, and Henry wondered just what Will had told him before nodding. He tied off the string, “Here. Give him a squeeze.” He passed the soft yellow brown body to the boy who gave it the tightest squeeze he could, “Soft enough?”
“Yeah.” Mike smiled, “When do I get to do something?”
“Soon kid! Soon enough.” he grinned, leaning into the sunshine, “Go play with Charlie. I’ll start working on his arms.”
—-
Three-
William liked working with Charlie.
The realization hit him as he passed a sandwich over to her. Michael was upstairs doing his homework. He’d been giving Charlie annoyed looks as William had announced she was helping him with a special project.
“You remind me of my friend Cassidy.” Charlie murmured, “She likes math too. She’s always helping me with my math.” she licked her lips, “You should teach people how to do this. When you’re not upset you’re a really good teacher.”
“I don’t get upset.” Henry’s good mood soured, but it didn’t sour as much as he’d expected, “I’m focused.”
“You get upset.” She pointed out, “You get really anxious like people are gonna get mad at you. You know they’re not right? You’re a grown up. Nobody’s going to hurt you if you mess up.”
“Charlotte-”
“No it’s true!” she held up a hand, “See, when I get older I’m going to be a lawyer because Daddy says batman isn’t a real job. I said I could be a police officer but daddy said he didn’t want one in the house and I agreed. Most of batman’s bad guys were cops.”
William snorted. Henry’s extremely liberal politics were one of the reasons he liked him. While they disagreed on other things, Henry and he agreed that the powers of the state were far too vast and responsible for the problems with the country, “That they were.”
“Mmn. So I’m going to be a lawyer to fight bad guys like Two Face.” she held up a hand, “Not you. Don’t worry. But I won’t let anybody hurt you unless you break the law Uncle Will. And Daddy won’t. You need to trust people. Or bad things are going to happen.”
Bad things. He sighed, studying her, “Bad things happen to people all the time Charlie. That’s the way of the world.”
She paused, staring at him, “...Where’s your mommy and daddy?”
Silence.
(James Afton had died of a gunshot wound. An absolutely tragic hunting accident. The poor Afton boy. Jacqueline had died a few years later. Such a tragedy. That poor Afton boy.)
“My parents are both dead.” he paused, “Like your mother.”
“Do you miss them?”
Dear God. “No. They weren’t good parents.” He set his sandwich aside, “Here. Let’s stop talking about it.” Thinking about James made him sick. Thinking about Jackie made him want to cry. Running his hands through his hair, he gently reached down, “Here. Before we put his skin on I want to test him.”
Bending down, he lifted up Helpy’s endoskeleton and set it on the table. Her eyes widened and she clapped her hands. Most children found the endos unnerving (Just ask that little assaulter’s cohorts) but Charlie and Michael were raised with them. The thing on the table was her family, a distant cousin perhaps.
Winding up a gear at his back he gestured, “and…a one and a two…”
“Look!” The endo toddled forward, “He’s walking! Helpy’s walking! You did it Uncle Will!” she nearly tackled the creature as Will picked it up quickly, “Careful! He’s not dressed yet you clumsy idiot!”
She stopped short and stared at him. Her features went wide and she looked away. Damn it. Damn it-
“Charlotte-Charlie-”
“I’m not an idiot.” she sat back, “I’m not. That was really mean. You hurt my feelings.” She sat down, “I was just excited…”
“I didn’t want him to get hurt.” William sat him down, “He’d break-”
“People are more important.” She wiped her eyes, “I thought we were friends. I defended you. Daddy says your brain isn’t right and you need help. I defended you. I’m not stupid.” She bit her lip, “I’m not stupid. I think you can be a good person if you want to be, but you’re mean.”
She jumped off the stool and ran upstairs. He watched her go, confused, before he set the creature back on the desk and stared at it. Machines. So much simpler than human beings, so much more precise. So much more focused without leaving him feeling lost.
“I should apologize.”
The endo said nothing.
“It just slipped out.”
The world phased in and out of existence as Bonnie sat behind the endo, leaning forward and smiling, “Of course you should. She cares about you but you just keep snapping pal! What a silly little boy you are. Just the silliest little guy-”
“Shut up-”
“But oh gosh, he’s just a little bit fucked up-”
“shut. up!” he slammed his hands down, watching the endo tumble to it’s side, arm bending out of shape.
“See? You’re fucked up.” His inner voice whispered, leaning forward behind the shape of Charlie’s creation, “You did the very thing you warned her against…” the rabbit shook it’s massive mascot head, the eyes peering through the darkness, “You’re fucked up - you’ve fucked up-”
William wrapped his arms around his head. He lay there for a few moments before picking up the creature, frowning at his poor arm.
“...Sorry friend.” he lay the endo back, “I might have broken you beyond repair.”
The thought made him want to sob, his chest contracting, before he stroked the little creature’s head and tried to bend the aluminum back into place.
—-
Four-
Bright sunlight filtered through the trees as Henry Emily put the finishing touches on the toy’s eyes, “...Michael are you sure that this is what you want?”
“Absolutely.” He nodded, “When do I get to work on it?”
“Almost. It’s not very…friendly looking.” the thing was a rabbit. Almost a rabbit - it’s arms and legs bent, it’s paws could also be bent into shapes, but the thing had massive bulging eyes and Henry found them preturbing, “I followed your drawing but if you want him to look like Spring Bonnie he should look a little friendlier. Can I add some eyelids?”
“Okay.” Michael looked perturbed, “When can I work on him?”
“Patience.” Henry’s voice was firm, “Patience Michael.” he stared, his features firm, “I’m just making a suggestion.”
“You don’t know daddy. You don’t know what he’d like. I’m his creation. I’m his son.” Michael looked like William when he was angry too, Henry realized. The little boy looked at Henry ice cold and angry, “I-”
He sighed, “I’m sorry. I just …I drew it.”
He rubbed his hands over his eyes, “...He’ll like it cause I made it right? And if I made it, if I made pieces of it, he’d like it more. He likes it when I make things, I want to make him things I want to make him proud I-”
“Michael. Do not speak to me like that.” Henry’s voice was firm, rooted in the world around them, “I am helping you because I don’t want you to get hurt. If you tried to make this yourself you would get hurt.” he gestured, “These are very precise stitches and even if they weren’t - Michael, you’re only six.”
“Almost seven.” He glowered, “Almost seven. I should never have asked for help.”
“Michael-”
“I could have done it! Then he’d be proud of me!” Charlie was looking up at their arguing and Henry sighed, “...I want it when you’re done.”
“Michael…”
“I want it.” he glared at him, “I want it when you’re done. I bought it.” Michael murmured, “I bought it with my money. I paid mommy back.” He stared at his feet, “Please.”
Henry sighed. Birds tweeted in the Utah sunshine as he exhaled. Michael’s strange little creation lay in his hands. He put the last finishing stitch in around the thing’s eyes and he sighed, watching Michael stalk down the hill towards Charlie.
Henry held up the rabbit. It was long - a bit longer than a Bonnie plush. The thing had bulging eyes and big floppy ears that Henry had added bendable plastic to. It had a button nose and a bright smile.
He sighed. Setting it carefully in his backpack he moved to slide down the hill to where the children were playing. The creature’s head stuck out of the bag, big eyes watching them leave the forest as he collected the kids, Michael refusing to take his hand as they left the wilderness - his little demonic creation watching the outside world go.
—
Father’s Day was somber.
It was less the irony - both men helping their children complete gifts for their opposing parents. Henry had left the rabbit overnight in Michael’s care. Charlie seemed anxious too, eagerly bouncing from foot to foot as they walked into the Afton household. She had insisted they hold it there even though it was their turn to host any party between the two families.
“Will.” Henry shook his friend’s hand and smiled. Will looked like he hadn’t been sleeping, his best friend rubbing at his features, “You okay?”
“Fine. Charlie? Everything is ready.”
“...Everything?” She paused, “Uncle Will, I’m-”
“Don’t. Apologize. I’m the one who should be sorry.” he held up a hand, “And I am sorry Charlie. I didn’t mean what I said and-”
Wait. What? Henry felt his anger flare. He had a temper, that was part of the reason he was so firm with Michael. You have to be firm. There’s nothing that would drive anyone’s hackles up however like a grown man saying “I didn’t mean what I said” and “I’m sorry.”
“Will what the fuck is going on?”
“Henry.” Will held up a hand, “I-”
Someone screamed and both Henry and Will looked up sharply. Clara was up the stairs first, both babies, now toddlers, began to scream, “Michael!” Will was second up the stairs, Henry following them tugging Charlie up the stairs.
Michael was in his mother’s arms, crying. The boy made animal noises, holding his hand and crying hard. Henry backed up a step knowing instantly what had happened. The little boy was holding his hand, a deep bleeding prick in his finger.
“Michael what the hell were you doing?!” Will sounded furious and Henry shook his head. When Michael met his Uncle’s gaze he lowered his head and cried harder, “What the hell were you doing?!”
“No! No it’s not ready yet! Don’t look! Don’t-” He sniffed, “I-I was working on it…”
“What were you doing?” Clara murmured, “My poor baby, let’s go take you downstairs…” Clara lifted him into her arms and glared at the two of them, “For godsake what possesses the two of you to give your children power tools!?”
Henry watched Will’s eyes go wide, “Power tools?! Who the hell was giving him power tools?! Charlie didn’t touch anything in my workshop-”
“Wait workshop?” Henry stared down at Charlie and felt his stomach curl. His daughter stared up at him defiant, and he was annoyed to see the same flicker of annoyance he saw in Will’s gaze, “Charlie what the hell is going on?”
She sighed, “I-Daddy we were - I asked Uncle Will to help me build your father’s day present.” She crossed her arms, “I wanted to make you something really special but I’m not stupid Mikey is. I asked him to use his tools and we fought about it but…”
His heart burst. As the kids got older the more he was impressed with how they were little people. Charlie was brave and willing to face down someone she didn’t get along with to get what she wanted. Michael was bold enough to apparently hurt himself…
“Aw damn.” Michael’s rapid departure had left the door open. Charlie wrinkled her nose, following her father into Michael’s room. His comforter had been thrown back, bed not made. All the lights in the room were turned on and he saw, smiling and sad, that he’d concluded sewing his gift for his father, at the expense of a big splash of blood across the poor creature’s face, “Aw damn.”
“What’s that?” Charlie wrinkled her nose, “It’s weird looking.”
The creature was a rabbit, a quarter of the size of Charlie herself. It had big bulging eyes and a soft smile, covered in yellow and brown upholstery fabric. The stitches on it’s head were clumsy and it had left a big smear like a strange sort of blessing across the creature’s head. He picked it up and rubbed at it, “...Poor Michael.”
“...We could wash it.” Charlie stared at it, “Is it Bonnie?”
“Yeah.” he sighed, “Mike is a lot like his father. Stubborn and desperate to please.”
“Oh yeah. When we were working he got really mad when I almost knocked into what we made.” she shook her head, “They’re pre-cise.”
“That’s a nice word kiddo!” Henry ruffled her hair, “Where’d you learn it?”
“Uncle Will. He likes making stuff because it’s precise and easy to understand. He said a lot of stuff about it.” She shrugged, “...Do you think Mikey’s okay?” Henry lifted her up into his arms, padding downstairs.
The Aftons busied themselves with their son. Henry set his daughter down and put his hands on her shoulders,“Sweetheart, you- that’s very sweet but I don’t need anything but your love peanut. You’re my Charlie bear. You’re my couch buddy, my taste tester. You’re the most caring, loving, beautiful little warrior I know. I’m just happy your mom gave me you.” She looked at him, “You are the best gift I could get okay?”
“Well don’t declare it just yet.” William Afton had his arms crossed, looking annoyed, “Michael has been bandaged and is refusing to speak to me, saying he should have listened to you.” William did not look exhausted, Henry thought. He looks like he wants to hurt me.
“What did you do to him?”
“I…I was helping him with is father’s day gift to you.” Henry smiled warmly, “And apparently you were helping her with her gift to me.” He met Will’s gaze, features warm and sad, “...We’ve got good kids. Thank you for helping her.” Just once he was going to get Will to be a decent parent in front of him. That’s all I want for father’s day. William Afton to act like a parent in front of someone who isn’t Clara because if I see it, maybe, just maybe it actually happens behind closed doors…
“...Let me go get him. He should be drying.” William crossed his arms, “I-Charlie his arm no longer moves. He has been knocked down.”
She looked heartbroken for a moment and Henry’s heart cracked, “Does he still walk?”
“That he does.” William nodded at Henry, “...and I painted him according to your colors. It’s a very nice color group. I…would like to use it one day if you’ll let me.” He smiled then, and Henry nodded slowly, “You have good taste.”
“Mike drew Helpy and I colored him.” she beamed. William raised an eyebrow and nodded mutely as Clara came into the room carrying Michael. She kissed his head and set him down, “Please watch him. I have to-” the toddlers were still screaming. She sighed, padding up the stairs and muttering to herself. Henry nodded, sitting beside Michael, “Mike? You did a really good job.”
“He’s ruined.” Michael wailed, “He’s ruined. He got all bloody!”
“No, no he’s not ruined…”
“Yes he is! Daddy hates blood! He’s not clean!” Michael sobbed harder, “I shoulda listened to you I didn’t mean to I…I…” He clung to Henry hard as Will appeared in the doorway with something wrapped in a purple covering. He stared at Henry and Michael, his features blank, “...did I interrupt something?”
“No no.” Henry patted Michael, “C’mon old sport. Well? What’d you two build me?”
William pulled the covering off with a flourish.
The bear was small, it came up to charlie’s hip. The creature was painted white with a pink-purple snout and belly with little black buttons. His little black hat sat jauntily on his head. One arm was stuck upward, but Will began to wind up the bear on the back, sitting back on his heels.
Charlie beamed as the bear began to waddle forward, “His arm was gonna wave but I guess I broke him.” Charlie murmured, “But he walks!”
“Oh sweetheart he’s wonderful!” He was, “You and Michael did this just for me? Oh sweetheart thank you…” He ignored Will sitting back, focusing wholly on his daughter. The little girl wrapped her arms around her father’s neck as he lifted her into the air. He squeezed her tight. His daughter built things, she’d worked together to make him something wonderful. Her gaze caught the couch and she pointed at Michael who was staring angrily at the coffee table.
“Michael.” William’s voice was firm, “Isn’t Charlie’s creation nice? You and she designed it? You did a good job.” Henry heart the edge in his friend’s tone, “She worked very hard on it.”
“Mike, bud.” Henry set Charlie down, “Why don’t you go upstairs and get what we made huh?” Henry smiled at Will who looked shocked, “Go on. I bet your dad will love it…”
“No.” Henry saw that two of Mike’s fingers had been wrapped in gauze, “No. It’s ruined. I ruined it. It’s not precise. It’s dirty.” He was crying big sad tears, “Excuse me please.”
He padded up the stairs grabbing at the railing. Will sighed, looking up, “I suppose dinner is off the table. Happy Father’s Day Henry.”
“Charlie, why don’t you go out to the car while I collect Helpy? We can take helpy right?”
“Of course you can.” Will rolled his eyes, “He’s yours isn’t he? Here.” He lifted the bear a little roughly, “Here.”
Henry winced, his heart already feeling for the little bear. Picking it up, he sighed, “Will. For the past month, Michael has been working on something very special for you. He begged me, begged me to let him make it himself because he wanted to impress you. I told him no because I didn’t want him to hurt himself but he must have done it and he’s upset because he thinks he’s ruined it.”
“What the hell were you doing to my son?” William Afton didn’t sound upset, rather confused, “With him? To him-I-”
“Just. Go see him.” Henry lifted Helpy into his arms like a child, “Please?” He padded out the door. Setting the bear in the car, he sighed and looked up at the Afton’s house. Charlie stared at him, “Did Uncle Will like Mike’s bunny?”
“He did.” Henry lied, “C’mon. Let’s go take Helpy home. He can meet Stanley and Theodore.”
“Yaaaaaay!”
—--
It was hard to admit it - but he was jealous. Every moment he’d come up to find out that he’d worked on something to make Henry Emily’s legend glorious. That the man was so good and so perfect and wasn’t his but he drew people to him like a damned dying star. Then Michael was hurt - and whatever his gift was it had been seemingly ruined.
Father’s Day
It was almost as bad as a damned birthday.
“...Michael.” Will knocked, “Michael? Please let me in.”
“Don’t come in!” Michael cried, “Please!” Something was being shuffled, “Please father-”
William sighed, “Michael, whatever you give me it’s not ruined.” He sighed, “I promise you. I…” He tried to think of Henry and what he’d say and shoved it out of his mind. He did not want to think about Henry, he did not want to think about how great he was… The perfect father, the perfect partner.
Michael was crying again and Will opened the door to see his son in his little pajamas sitting on his bed holding something in his arms.
“...He’s Bonnie but I got hurt.” Michael lifted the creature up to his father, “I wanted to make him myself but I’m small.” He bared his teeth, “I hate being little! I wanted to show you I can do stuff like you! I-” he held up the creature, “Uncle Henry helped me. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
It was …Bonnie. Bonnie was smaller than Helpy, but the stuffed animal was bendable. It was a bit distracting - it’s eyes were rather bulbous. One ear was flopped over it’s left eye but he saw a large red streak across the rabbit’s face. Ah.
It was not precise and there was something preturbing about Bonnie being…dirty. Bonnie being covered in blood and dirt and dust and mud. Michael was watching him, taking his silence for disapproval he began to sniffle again, pulling at his covers, “I ruined fathers day.”
“No no.” he lifted the creature’s ear, “You made this toy for me?”
“You don’t have lots of toys.” Michael murmured, “You should have toys. I drew it and I wanted to make him.”
“You could-” you could have just made a drawing. I don’t want you getting hurt. “Michael he’s lovely. Where did you sew? Can you show me?” Michael pointed along the top of it’s head, “I cut it a little bit cause Uncle Henry finished it but I had t’do something.”
“You put blood sweat and tears into a creation. That means it’s your creation son.”
“But I made it for you!”
“Why-” he considered taking Michael down now, showing him Foxy - and decided against it. Instead he patted the boy on his head before pausing and altering the rabbit’s arms to hug the little boy. Michael squeezed his homemade bonnie plush between the two of them before handing it to his father, “My fingers hurt.”
“Yes. Next time, listen to your uncle.” He hesitated, then leaned over and kissed his son’s forehead, “Sleep. For the love of God tomorrow you have school.” He tucked the toy under his arm, “...Thank you.”
“Take it and sleep with it! He’ll protect you!”
He closed the door and let out a long sad sigh. The creature was absolutely hideous but it was made by Michael and the blood atop it gave it character. He adjusted the creature’s ears and smiled to himself before tucking it under his arm and coming face to face with his inner voice, smirking at him, smiling.
“Hideous thing isn’t it.”
“Shut up.”
“Do you think it’s how he sees you?”
William Afton stared at it, resisted the urge to give into that thought, to toss this thing his son had wounded himself over, and shoved past the rabbit. Clara was brushing her teeth, frowning, “You and Michael are far too dramatic- what the hell is that?”
“Michael made it.” He smiled, then his smile softened, “This is what he got hurt over.”
“It’s hideous. Is it Bonnie?”
“Hush.” William murmured, “I think it’s lovely.” he rubbed the thing’s forehead, “...That’s stained it, but it adds a bit of character.”
“Is that his blood?” Clara frowned, “Jesus Will. Why would he do that? If he wants to impress you like that…Honey you need to talk to him.”
“I will.”
Why? Why should he? He was his son, his creation. That is what creations did didn’t they? And he was a good father. Michael was willing to do anything for him. He hugged the rabbit and Clara curled back, “What?”
“I…fine. Sure. It looks like one of those monsters he likes to draw.” she waved a hand, “Where are you going to put it?”
He set it on the nightstand, staring at the two of them with it’s beady white eyes.
“William I’m going to move it.”
He glared at her, “Don’t you fucking dare.” His features darkened, “My son made that for me. Don’t you dare move it.”
She frowned, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and going to sleep. He lay back, imagining the white eyes staring at him. That perhaps the thing his son made could keep the monsters at bay. He’ll protect you! Certainly he would. Staring out into the darkness, watching William Afton’s demons curl over him, a rabbit shaped shadow in the night.