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In the Afton residence, if someone were to walk past the youngest child’s room, they might just hear the quiet sobs emerging from behind its closed door.
Christopher Evan Afton had many reasons to cry. For one, his sister was nowhere to be found. Her disappearance created a sense of hollowness in the Afton family. His parents, who usually got along well, as far as he knew, had started having many heated arguments. Evan knew they were fighting because he could hear their voices from the master bedroom. After their fights, his dad would sometimes sleep on the couch in the living room, unless he would spend his nights in Elizabeth’s room.
Evan loved his parents very much, so hearing them say the meanest things to each other in their room gave him more reasons to cry.
He and Michael had been sensing an upcoming divorce on their parents’ part. And that would break the family apart more than it already was. He buried his face in his pillows while hanging tightly to his Fredbear Plush, trying and failing to let in a wailing sound that was muffled by a soaked pillow.
Evan coped with these unpleasant changes by feeling. And by feeling, that mostly involved crying. His older brother, on the other hand, chose to cope with these changes by distracting himself. Which meant he resolved to bully Evan by scaring him every chance he could.
Evan used to love going to his father’s workplace. In fact, he used to try sneaking out of his dad’s office at work to go see the animatronics, despite his dad always telling him not to. But ever since Elizabeth went missing, Evan started having horrible nightmares about the animalistic robots he used to love so much. He would mostly lay awake until 6 a.m. and would still see them- the horrible, monstrous version of the restaurant’s animatronics. A terrifying form of them with layers and layers of razor-sharp teeth like sharks. He didn’t understand why he could see them even as he stayed awake, but it made him fear them even more.
They were the monsters of his nightmares.
Michael, finding a new way to torment Evan even more, had started chasing him around the house with a Foxy mask on after popping out of nowhere and nearly scaring him to death. Evan hated how he’d start crying every time Michael did that, but he couldn’t help it. Crying wasn’t exactly something he could control. It was like breathing. He can’t force his body not to breathe, the same way he can’t force it to stop shaking from the uncontrollable sobs.
But crying made him look weak. It made Michael call him a baby. He was not a baby! His body was just very expressive when it came to his emotions, and he couldn’t help but feel confused and scared lately.
As he curled himself into a ball and continued to cry his eyes out, he heard a gentle knock before his bedroom door swung open. Knowing that Michael never had the tendency to knock, Evan assumed his mom came to comfort him like she would sometimes do when she’s home. He didn’t bother looking even as he felt a weight settle on his bed next to his curled body. His mom’s presence seemed to calm him down a bit, though. He wasn’t shaking anymore. Only sniffling.
“Why are you crying, Evan?”
Once he heard his father’s apathetic voice instead of his mother’s soothing one, he immediately turned to see the man sitting beside him. William Afton was the last person he thought would come to see him.
Evan didn’t want to look him in the face. Mostly because he didn’t want to know how his father saw him like. Weak. Instead, he focused on the scars the Bonnie animatronic suit left on his dad’s arm.
Why was he crying? There were many reasons he didn’t know which one to choose as a response.
“I’m sad.” This sums it up.
His dad looked at the ceiling as though thinking of something. He placed one of his hands on Evan’s shin while sighing deeply. Though his hand was practically laid on both of his shins. It was either because of Evan’s lanky legs or his dad’s large hand that made it possible.
“Me too.” He said at last. His voice losing some of its edge from earlier.
“You are?” Evan sat on the bed, looking at his usually grim father with curios eyes.
His dad nodded but offered no further explanation.
Evan thought of asking why he was sad but decided not to. Sometimes, the reasons can be overwhelming. Just like how Evan couldn’t describe why he was always upset.
It was comforting somehow, to know that even the person he thought was durable could feel the thing that made Evan be described as weak.
If his father, of all people, could feel the same way Evan did, then maybe that didn’t make Evan as weak as he thought he was. There was something he’d been meaning to confess but never got the chance to do so. Feeling more comfortable speaking to his father, he decided to tell him.
A car was parked in the driveway of the Afton residence. Getting out of the vehicle was William Vincent Afton. He finally entered his home after a long day of arguing with basically anyone confronting him. His life was… his life wasn’t great at the moment. He was angry. Angry at Clara. Angry at Henry (and the entire Emily family apparently). Angry at Elizabeth. Very angry at Circus Baby. But most of all, he was angry at himself.
He supposed there was no point at all being angry at his dead daughter. Sure, she brought her death upon herself. She was stubborn, and directly disobeyed him, but she wasn’t the one to blame. She was just stupid. All children were stupid. Which made them ridiculously easy to lure. All kids had naively curios nature, and as Elizabeth proved, his were no exception.
He knew his eldest child was safe from his creations. Michael wasn’t fully grown, mind, but at least he outgrew the ages that would’ve made him a proper target. Something Evan still hadn’t, much to William’s dismay. Evan was the youngest of all the Afton kids, so he still had a lot of growing up to do.
William thought he’d have to take precautions so his son wouldn’t walk the same road as his daughter. He had to; he couldn’t handle losing another one of his children to his own creations again. Heartbreak could cause William more damage mentally than it would to any other person. After all, William couldn’t exactly be considered the sanest person in Utah. Even he knew that.
He made his way up the stairs to get to Evan’s room. He had to make sure the sound elusions he created were set up for the night. The elusions’ purpose was to make Evan see the twisted version of the animatronics William knew he liked. They’re precautions. William told himself. He needed to do more than banning his son from going near the real thing for Evan to actually listen to him.
Fear is a powerful tool if you know how to use it. And William believed scaring Evan would be the best way to ensure he would never want to go back to the diner.
A tiny part of him would always feel bad for traumatizing his youngest son. No parent should want their child to suffer. But then again, William wasn’t like most parents. He was a maniacal genius. Duh. And frankly, he cared about his children’s safety far more than he did their feelings. No matter how questionable his methods of ‘protection’ were, he would never regret doing what he did as long as it kept Evan safe and sound.
William frowned when he heard muffled sobs as he walked through the hallway. It didn’t take a genius such as himself to know the sound was coming from Evan’s room. He was crying. He seemed to do that quite a lot lately, William thought.
His youngest son should’ve been sleeping at the moment. William tsked as he approached Evan’s room. The crying child had a long night of fright ahead of him, he could be awake then. But for now, he had to get a few hours of peaceful slumber. Not only because he needed it, but also because, well, how else would William be able to set off the sound elusions in Evan’s room when he’s wide awake?
He knocked quietly on the door- not really waiting for a response, but mostly announcing his presence- before opening it. He peered inside to see Evan curled on his bed, sniffling while surrounded by his plushies.
He knew for a fact Evan wasn’t crying because of Michael this time. William received a phone call earlier today from his elder son saying he would spend the night at a friend’s house. He’d be back tomorrow, which was a bit of a shame because William was kind of counting on him to scare Evan tonight.
The lamp on the bedside table was the only source of brightness in the room since all lights were turned off. He walked to his son’s bed and noticed him clutching his favorite plush tightly to himself while visibly shaking. Clara usually comforts Evan, not because William didn’t want to, but rather because he didn’t know how. Especially since he’d been telling himself it was better that Evan cries than wanting to go near any animatronics. Once William settled next to him, he could see his son visibly relaxed a little.
This was a good sign. Maybe he’d be able to calm him down well enough to help him sleep. Even if William was planning on keeping Evan awake the rest of the night, he still cared about his wellbeing. He thought of something comforting to say, and he mentally cursed himself for how long it took him to decide on something.
“Why are you crying, Evan?” A question he already knew the answer to. William reckoned that if he listened to Evan’s rantings the child would eventually calm himself down. Some people felt better after talking, hopefully Evan was one of those people. He’d let him do all the talking because William simply had nothing to say.
Evan looked a little startled to hear William’s voice. Judging by that reaction, William figured Evan expected to see someone else (Clara) instead of his own father. Should I be offended by that?
Instead of going off and rambling about all that was troubling him, Evan’s only response was a short answer to William’s question. “I’m sad.”
He almost chuckled at the simplicity of his son’s answer. Because why else would Evan be crying?
It may not be the kind of answer he was expecting to hear, but it did make him reevaluate his own emotions, placing one of his hands on Evan’s shin as he did so.
“Me too.” He said truthfully. Because at the end of the day, all the anger he had toward the world was just built on genuine sadness.
Come to think of it, William led a really depressing life even before he met Henry and Clara. He may have thrived, started a family, and led a successful career in Utah, but there had always been imminent darkness rooted deep inside of William, just waiting for an opportunity to snap… like he did to those five children…
“You are?” Evan sat on his bed, peering at William with shock written across his face with a trace of innocent curiosity only a child could establish. The way Evan looked at him though, as if William being capable of feeling sadness was something so mind blowing to the boy, it made William arch an eyebrow at him.
He nodded, nonetheless.
Silence dawned in the room except for Evan’s occasional but now much quieter sniffs as he wiped his face.
“I’m scared to go to sleep.” His son whispered.
I know. “And why is that?” He said gently.
“The nightmares are awful.” Evan’s voice cracked, covering his face with both hands as though shielding his shame.
“Oh, well,” This only meant his allusions were working wonderfully, that was good to know. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Was he though?
So what if William’s way of protecting Evan could leave a psychological scar in his son’s mind? His safety is far more important. He chided himself while subconsciously ruffling his son’s hair. Something he used to do frequently to Michael when he was Evan’s age (not Elizabeth though. First and last time he tried messing up her hair, he nearly lost a finger).
Still. Shouldn’t he also be a source of comfort for his son and not just Clara?
“Look at the bright side!” He said cheerfully.
Evan let go of his face and looked up at him. William could see the new traces of tears on Evan’s cheeks and used his thump to wipe it up.
“At least you’re not alone.” William picked up the Fredbear plush and handed it back to Evan while gesturing to the rest of the plushies on the bed with his free hand. “You have your friends to help you get through the night.”
“I guess.” Evan sniffed as he took his favorite plush from his father. The edge of his mouth curved upward a little at the sight of what William started to understand was Evan’s best friend.
“You need all the sleep you can get. Promise me you’ll go to sleep, kiddo.” He stroked the back of his son’s tiny frame until the sniffing sound stopped.
“I’ll try.” Evan replied softly.
William smiled sadly, turning the lamp off before heading outside of the bedroom. He’d wait a few minutes to come back and make sure the elusions would start in the middle of the night. These elusions might be what caused his son to believe in monsters, but at least they weren’t real. Because no matter what Evan thought was haunting him, there was only one monster in the Afton household, and it just happened to be his father.