Chapter Text
Wiping down these tables at the end of each day should earn you more pay, with what kind of mysteries always seem to occupy these tables...
You recoil when you unforutantly touch one of the unknown spills, hurriedly wiping it on your pants, desperate to take the feeling away. You’re about to resume your cleaning when soft cries bring your attention elsewhere. You turn your head as far as you can to see two children. You sigh, ready to scold them for their inappropriate behavior, when you take a closer look.
Except you know them.
It’s Michael Afton and his kid brother, Evan Afton.
Evan is wearing his iconic striped shirt and black shorts, while that idiot Michael is wearing a stupid wife-beater and ripped jeans. He looks so stupid.
A frown falls on your face as you see Michael snicker at Evan, shoving him around lightly. Evan flinches back each time, closes in on himself, and tears appear in the corner of his eyes.
Your frown turns into a scowl. You know this isn’t the first time this has happened. Your brother is a good friend of Evan’s, and he’s told you this is basically a daily occurrence. You don’t exactly know why you’re so mad, but maybe it’s because he reminds you of your own brother.
Before you have any time to actually react, though, some of Michael’s friends come up behind him.
They’re all happy to see each other. Grins of mischief on their faces as they greet each other.
When they meet, they converse with each other about something, though it’s something that doesn’t involve terrorizing Evan anymore, because they start to walk away as they laugh loudly.
As soon as they're far enough from you, you race to Evan as he wipes the tear from his eyes. At the sight of you, he flinches, though quickly relaxes as he recognizes you. You crouch down.
“What’s up, Evan?”
He sniffles, “Nothin’.”
There is a moment of silence where you try to think of what to say.
“I uh, saw what happened earlier...”
“...”
“You can uh, hang out with me?... Not very interesting but...”
“Could you keep Michael away from me?”
He looks up at you, hopeful, and your heart breaks for how desperate he seems for this. How could Michael do this to someone so...innocent?
You slowly nod, “..Yeah...Yeah, for sure,” You give a bittersweet smile.
The two of you spend the majority of your shift walking around the Diner, with you wiping down tables and Evan talking about anything he can think of.
“..You know it’s my birthday tomorrow, right?”
You turn around to him. You did know, but you forgot it was tomorrow...
“Of course I do! How could I forget?” You ask with a wide smile on your face, “Do you know what you’re doing for it?”
He looks down at the ground, almost solemnly.
“Dad says that he plans to have it here...He says it's easier...”
You frown, “You don’t want it here, though, do you?”
“...The- the...” he points to the animatronics, “They freak me out...The pizza here is bad, too...”
You hum. Your heart breaks for him. He has an ugly brother who teases him daily, a freaky dad, and an older sister who craves attention from her absent father.
“It’s okay! I have a shift here tomorrow! Do you know when you’re coming?”
He shrugs. “I can hang out with you, though?”
You nod, reassuring him.
Steps come from behind you, and you start to become aware of a cetrian aura behind you, an unsettling one.
You turn around and are met with your boss, William Afton.
William is a unique man, to say the least.
He’s got this unnerving smile that never fails to make you shiver. He’s got such a raspy voice that’s somehow always low and level-headed; it scares you how impossible it seems to tell if he’s upset or not. His eyes have horrible bags that make them look sunken in. His cheekbones pop out, his chin is sharp, and he has piercing gray eyes. His hair is such a dull and dark brown that it almost resembles black. His skin is pale, so pale it could be compared to a vampire's. Needless to say, at first glance, you could never guess he was Michael’s father.
“Oh, Good evening, Mr. Afton.”
“Good evening. I see you have Evan here with you. Surely he wasn’t distracting you at all.”
“No, no, in fact, he’s been helping me clean!”
William gives a small smile, and even though it doesn’t look genuine, Evan seems delighted by it, giving a toothy grin.
“Well, I appreciate you looking after him. He doesn't get along with kids very easily, so I’m grateful he has someone he can talk to.”
Despite how backhanded that sounded, you nodded, giving a warm smile, “Of course!”
He gestures Evan over with a hand, and even if he quickly clings to his side, you can see the slight hesitation he has to leave you. You wonder why.
William speaks, “Well, beyond the fact I’m leaving, I came here to ask something..”
You look up at him intently.
“You wouldn’t mind working a little overtime, right?”
You have to stop yourself from groaning. Who doesn’t mind overtime is another question?
“It’ll mean you’ll have to close up, but don’t worry, you’ll be paid if so.”
You stand still for a moment, debating inside your head if you should take up the offer. Con: You stay later...Pro: You get money.
“…Uhm, y-yeah! Of course! I can do that!” You nod enthusiastically.
He gives you a pleased smile, “Thank you.”
William leaves quickly after you agree. Evan turns around before they walk out the doors to give you a small wave, which you return.
Once the door closes, you let out a sigh. While this isn’t the first time you’ve had to close, it doesn’t mean you’re all too fond of it. Your hands go to your hips. Looks like you have to clean up after all the little kids here.
Brushing up against an endless amount of unknown sticky substances throughout the day is enough to make you want to just leave this place as is, but now you have to do the same at night? When you should be home, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling until you can finally sleep.
...
Closing up wasn’t as bad as you thought. It was only the animatronics that kind of made you feel uneasy.
The cold wind brushes your face as you walk out, making shivers run down your spine.
Your eyes have to take a second to adjust to the darkness, but once they do, you start to walk.
There was a payphone rather close by, so as part of your usual work schedule, you went up to it, put change in, and dialed your home phone.
The phone continues to ring. No one picks up.
You feel your brows furrow in confusion. There should be people home...why did no one answer?
You huff. Trying to think of what to do next, you shift your weight from foot to foot. You shove your hands in your pockets to find a small slip of paper.
It’s an address. A few seconds pass until it hits you.
There was supposedly going to be a party that your good friend, Jessica, was going to. Jessica and you had been friends since middle school, and you two had so much in common that you stayed friends throughout then and most of high school!
You don’t exactly remember what for, but she wanted you to come. You debated actually going, well, before you had overtme.
You look down at the address again. Eyes scanning over the messily written numbers.
You don’t exactly suppose it could hurt to see if it was still going on. It was probably barely 9:50 right now.
You let out a sigh, looking around for street signs.
Your eyes go back and forth from the paper to the signs posted on traffic lights and poles.
You felt like your feet were going to fall off.
You had to have been walking for a minimum of 30 minutes before you finally found the house. Lucky for you, cars upon cars blocked the street and driveway; there was no doubt the party was still going on.
Still in your work uniform, you walked up the steps and opened the door, testing if it was locked or not.
To your luck, it wasn’t.
You walk in and are immediately overwhelmed by the number of people who are here. To walk around, you have to take careful steps to make sure you’re not stepping on anyone.
You quickly and carefully weave through crowds, on your search for Jessica, or anyone who might know her.
It takes a while, but you’re so desperate that you continue. You even double-check, possibly even triple-check areas she might’ve been, like outside in the backyard, all of the bathrooms, where the drinks are, the living room.
You’re about to break down when someone trips over their feet and spills their drink over your shirt.
You flinch back, the cold beverage not only staining your shirt with the color, but you with an unknown scent. You scoff, upset. You look up only to find the perpetrator is already out of sight.
You let out a huff and continue your search; your shirt isn’t a priority right now.
You spin in place, trying to look for somewhere you have’t looked. Your hand runs through your hair, a nervous action.
You spot a particular brown-haired teen, and you almost lose it. You have to ask him; you don’t know anyone else.
From afar, he laughs, wrinkles in the corner of his eyes that prove a genuine enjoyment.
You feel yourself scowl at him. He seems to be happy for always acting like a douchbag.
You start to walk towards him, expertly avoiding bumping into people. He looks over with a raised brow once you reach him, his friends looking over in both curiosity and confusion.
“What are you doing here? You look more shitty than usual.”
“Michael, do you knowwhere Jessica is?”
He seems genuinely confused, “Who?”
“..Jessica? The one who’s always hanging out with me? The super blonde one, her hair’s almost white?”
“Oh, her. No, I haven’t seen her here at all, actually. I mean, she’s probably here, but-”
“Okay, well, other than that, I actually have a little favor I need done.”
“What?” He looks bored.
You have some trouble saying it at first, and you debate whether you should follow through with this. Your hand scratches the back of your neck. You let out a long sigh and lick your lips, as if that will ready you to actually talk.
“Do you think you could take me home?”
His brows furrow in what you think is disbelief.
“...You want me to take you home?”
You hesitantly nod, “Yeah, I didn’t have a ride home from work.”
He looks you up and down with a judging gaze.
“Listen, I’ll take you home-” Your eyes light up, thankful. “If—” He pauses. “If I can take you home in like, twenty minutes.”
You stare at him blankly. It wasn’t the worst response, but you would have definitely wanted him to just say yes and leave now.
You nod, “Yeah, yeah, I can wait.”