Chapter Text
Blood pooled off the stage and onto the tile flooring. It almost didn't look real with all the birthday party decorations and party supplies littered around the room. It was a private party, so the place had been mostly empty, but even now it was even more lonesome. The few people who were here for the party had all booked it out of the place, leaving all the birthday cake and melting ice cream behind. In the middle of the mess and laying on the floor, was my son.
I was already moving the second I heard that scream. Violent noises from the party room tore through my office door, I didn't want to believe it but I knew it was Evan screaming. I’d only left them alone a few minutes. Michael was supposed to be watching.
Fredbear's Family Diner was supposed to be a safe place. When I built this restaurant I made it to bring joy. Where any normal day children would be cheering and singing happily along with the tunes of our singing mascots and playing arcade games. Yet today, Evan, my son, was laying vulnerable on the ground with blood gushing from his head. Michael knelt beside him, his hands fluttering uselessly over the gash. He’d fumbled open a first-aid kit. White gauze was hastily thrown around, already stained red from where he'd tried to adhere them to his brother and failed. As soon as he saw me, Michael shot up.
"Dad-!" He yelled out to me, desperate for my presence.
I shoved past Michael to get to Evan, his form limp and nearly lifeless. Fear he could be dead had plagued me the moment I saw him, but he was still breathing. Thank god, but his head… his head had a gaping wound. Dark fluid matted in his dark brown hair and dribbled down to paint his face red. Layered onto the mess was that overwhelming coppery scent. I kept in all my gagging but the urge was strong. Holding him my hands came away slicked with warm blood.
"Dad, I didn't mean to. I- he- It wasn't meant to hurt him!" Michael blubbered, his voice shaky and with tears pouring from his face.
"MICHAEL, NOT NOW!" I screamed at him. Michael recoiled and froze like a deer in headlights, wide eyed and unsure where to go or what to do. I didn't mean to scare him but this is dire. Fuck this is bad. FUCK. Rabid panic had already seeped its way into me no matter how calm I tried to keep myself. Did Michael have something to do with this? He was supposed to protect him. He always teased the boy but that was just sibling banter- not… Whatever this is. What did he do to my son, how did this even happen?
My eyes came upwards to meet with the gaze of one of the animatronic mascots we had. Music emanated from it, the voice box in it still going over the regular routine. The animatronic mascots were meant to perform songs for the kids, it was the staple of Fredbear's Family Diner. Yellow furred and shaped like a bear, Fredbear, the icon and center of the business itself, stood there stationary. Despite the music continuing something in the motors but have broke, it just stood there lifelessly staring at the non-existent crowd. The maw of the beast was atrocious, it had that dark red oozing from its mouth, dripping down to the floor to meet the rest of Evan's blood. Bits of brown hair still were caught in the teeth of Fredbear.
I look back down at Evan, what should I do? The bleeding won't stop. fuck. I need to get him to a hospital. "Mike, go get Uncle Henry and tell him… Tell him we're closing early. I'll be taking your brother." I didn't wait for a reply before I heaved Evan up into my arms. Carrying him the same way as when he fell asleep on the couch and I needed to bring him to his bed. With him secure with in my arms, I fled Freddy's.
The drive felt like a fever dream, everything in my mind was screaming. I don't even remember how fast I was going but it sure wasn't the speed limit. For once I'm glad the Police in Utah don't actually care about speeders. Half the time I wasn't even looking at the road, instead at his face in the rear view mirror. "It'll be okay. We'll get through this, the doctors will put you back together. It will be okay." I repeated those phrases over and over to Evan, more for me than him. My knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
Turning into the drive for the hospital I was going so fast that my car almost slid out of control. By the looks of the bent signposts it looks like even if I had hit it I wouldn't be the first. Caked in blood and driving recklessly, I probably looked like a lunatic, but it didn't matter. Nothing of what people might be thinking of me matters right now. Evan, that's the only thing that could possibly matter right now. Damn it why does parking need to be so far from the building. "Come on kid, you can do it. Almost there. You'll be alright." I lifted him into my arms once more, this time I had a beach towel that Michael left in the car to hold against his head. I ran across the parking lot and over the grassy front, barely keeping myself from tripping over the rocks and mud.
The hospital was all a haze of sterile chemical scent and artificial light. Doctors and nurses all spoke in hushed voices like I couldn't hear them, using words like “intracranial pressure,” “depressed skull fracture,” and “coma.” I heard them all from a great, cold distance. On occasion they would try to speak directly to me, but that felt even more distant. Floating through space, at some point I must have started crying. I don't remember the last time I cried, did I even cry at my Dad's funeral? Nothing is real anymore. Even though I had cleaned the blood off my hands, I still felt it all over me. There's blood in my hair.
The bloodied jaws of that animatronic had flashed in my mind. The way Michael apologized to me and said something was meant to be a joke. A joke. I knew exactly what it was. I knew exactly what he did. Michael had always teased Evan, for being scared of the animatronics. He may have been a little cruel at times but it was silly brotherly teasing. That's all it was. That's all it was supposed to be. His favourite taunt was replaying itself for me "It won't bite you, crybaby! Maybe I should put your head in its mouth like a lion tamer!" Michael had said things like that so many times, but it wasn't serious.
Fuck, Michael. You didn't.
You did. He had to have, nothing else made sense.
A gentle tap on my shoulder derailed my train of thought. "Mr.Afton?" I flinched. A nurse stood in front of me "There's a call for you at the front desk, I think its your wife." She's calling… that means she knows about Evan. Well at least I won't have to be the one to break that news.
I moved like an automaton to the front. The receiver was cold in my hands. I took a second to recollect myself before answering.
"Clara?"
"William? Henry just called, he's rambling- going on about Evan getting hurt at the diner- and for some reason Mike's with him crying- and he won't tell me what happened." Clara's voice came in tinny through the phone.
"I don't know." The lie was automatic, but I had to, truth would be worse for her. "I don't…. I wasn't there."
"Is Evan with you!? Is he okay?"
"The doctors are with him- its going to be okay. They're… they're taking him to surgery, he got a head wound. He must have… fallen." My face scrunched up and my jaw clenched, trying to keep me from digging the lies any further.
"Okay. Okay. Henry said he can bring me and the kids up there. We'll be there soon. Just… be there with him. Please."
"I will." That was the only true words I told. "Bye, see you when you get here, love you." She hung up the phone. Suddenly I was back in the hospital, with its bright and silent torture.
Henry's truck had a bad engine you can hear from a mile away. I knew they had arrived before they entered the place when that rumbling came near. Clara burst in first, tackling me with a hug. I forgot how it felt to be hugged, the weight of her around me and the scent of her blueberry shampoo. Her grip was firm, clawing into my skin. I lifted my arms, my motion stiff and delayed, to wrap my arms loosely around her. It was the only thing I knew I could do for her. Over Clara's shoulder I saw Michael enter, and holding his hand was Elizabeth, his two year old sister.
After Henry fetched some tissues for Clara to clean herself up, she bombarded me with questions. Most of her asks I couldn't answer. Well, they were things I couldn't answer without lying. "What did the doctors say? How did he fall? Was he climbing on something? Where were you, Will?"
“They’re still assessing. He must have slipped. I was in the office. It was just a second.” The lie didn't feel like a knot in my throat anymore with how much I was repeating it now. I knew lying was usually wrong, but things are already rough as is, telling her the details would only make this whole mess worse for everyone. The details… that golden maw snapping shut, the blood seeping into its fur… Michael kneeling next to him with blood on his hands. I was protecting her from the rest of it.
The next six hours were a cycle of asking doctors questions and waiting forever to get a barely useful response before getting handed more piles of forms to fill out. Every new update was either a vague "The surgeons are doing their best" or asking us if we can spend another thousand dollars on medical procedures. The longer it went on the more distant the doctors kept themselves from us. They looked back at us in pity, trying to hide whatever was going on from us. Often in those waiting times finding myself pacing back and fourth in the lobby. Back and fourth between the meaningless words and waiting for more meaningless words.
Henry kept Elizabeth busy, he was always good with the kids. Henry wasn't really the kid's uncle, but they all called him that, they even called his daughter their cousin. Still even with the distractions, Elizabeth would come back to us to complain about how bored she was getting, asking when we were going to be done. The answer was the same each time "We have to wait for your brother. It won't be much longer." Michael avoided me most of the time, slinking away somewhere. I didn't bother keeping track of where he was running off to most the time. He's already done the worst he can do.
Finally, a nurse called us back. Bleach and artificial chemical scent hit my senses first, followed by the cold and the sight of him. My boy. Evan. Pallid and ghastly, hooked up to so many different kinds of machines and monitors. His head was mostly bandages, broke up only by the occasional tube or wire connecting him to a monitor. He'd looked frozen in place if not for the rising and falling of his chest. His breathing, it was rhythmic, being aided by the clear tubing under his nose. He was so small against the giant bed and hunks of machinery. I'd expected… What was I expecting? Expecting that I'd get in there and he'd be magically all better, up and ready to chatter about the shows he was watching on TV? Of course it wasn't that.
Michael shuffled in behind Clara, Elizabeth and Henry weren't far behind. Michael's entire body started trembling. Why is he acting so scared? He did this. Kid better be glad I didn't break his mother's heart by telling her what he did. He gets to walk around while Evan is…. Michael must have felt the pressure of my glare. He looked at me with those big doe eyes, before he went and ducked behind Clara.
"Daddy" Beside the bed was Elizabeth, she looked confused by the sight of Evan like this. "Is Evan sick?" She wasn't old enough to really understand these sorts of things, but she knew that people go to the doctor for being sick.
"…Yes, sweetie. He's… sick."
"Oh. Okay." She'd seen him sick before, with colds and fevers, this was a bigger version of that. "When he gets better ask him if he can play with me." Times like that she had gotten used to being told they couldn't play right now, that he'll come out soon and then you can play. "We're gonna play pirates."
"Sure," I managed, "He's really tired right now. But we'll see, okay?"
Elizabeth nodded, satisfied with that answer. It wasn't anything out of the usual for her to have to wait while one of her brothers was busy with something.
Later, a doctor with a kind, exhausted face gathered us. Henry, sensing a private family hell starting, silently slipped back out into the hall.
"We've done all we can surgically," the doctor said, "the trauma… the internal bleeding was too severe. We've induced a coma to give his brain a chance, but the swelling is significant. We need to prepare for the possibility he may not regain consciousness." Clara made a small whimper, trying to keep herself contained. She swallowed her fear down, but it wouldn't keep down long. The doctor continued, trying to be as gentle as he could. "At this stage, our focus is shifting to comfort. We can discuss hospice care. Many families find it helpful to bring their child home… Bringing Evan, home. To be in a familiar place and let him be close to family."
Clara broke. She was always the more emotional of us, but I'd rarely seen her like this. She burst into a sobbing mess. Elizabeth started to cry, not because she understood what was happening, but because she didn't. I just stood there. What was I supposed to do? there's nothing I can do… The distance between me and the room I was in kept growing. What sounded like Clara was talking, it mushed into a blurred meaningless drone. Was she talking to me? To the doctor? What was she saying. Does it matter? The world felt wrong, it was lying to me. Everyone won't stop trying to lie to me. I think there's still blood in my hair. Sharp pain in my chest reminded me I needed to breathe.
I walked out of that room not feeling my legs move, just the feeling of the room moving away from me. Blinding florescent lights greeted me in the hall. Beside me, Henry was leaning against the wall. He forced a pathetic smile.
"Will. Hey. I, uh… I got you some water." Henry held out a clear plastic bottle. "Thought you might be thirsty standing for so long." We both knew that wasn't why he was trying to give me this. I stared at his offering for a little too long.
"Henry." I ignored the bottle being handed to me. "Go home." I pushed past him, my shoulder brushing his. I didn't bother looking back at him, I knew he was looking at me with condescending pity.