Chapter Text
He didn’t want to open his eyes.
If he kept them tightly shut, he could keep pretending to be asleep, keep pretending to be just a normal child, while the sunlight filtered through the small gaps in the bedroom curtains, calling to him as he remained hidden beneath the blankets.
If he opened his eyes, he would be admitting that he was awake.
If he opened those blue eyes, he would have to get up… he would have to admit what day it was today.
So many horrible feelings pulsed through his body like electricity, making him want to bury his face even deeper into the pillow. Just for today, he wanted to pretend that everything was fine. Pretend that he wasn’t a physically and mentally exhausted child, with the responsibilities of an adult weighing heavily on his shoulders.
He didn’t usually throw tantrums about getting out of bed. He knew he didn’t have time for that, tossing from side to side in incoherent murmurs. But today… today he deserved the small comfort of the sheets for a few more minutes.
January fourteenth.
Exactly two years ago, his mother had been hospitalized.
Michael tried so hard. He begged his father to let him and his siblings see their mother.
But William always refused. Always with that fragile smile, on the verge of completely breaking apart, saying it wasn’t necessary, that it would only cause them unnecessary pain, that she would be back soon.
That never happened.
To this day, she never returned, and her absence affected the entire house. Evan, and even the ball of energy that Elizabeth used to be, had grown much quieter. At the time, being only four and three years old, neither of them truly understood what had happened.
Michael, on the other hand, even at just nine years old back then, understood a little better. After all, he had inherited his father’s intelligence and cunning.
As long as he could remember, his mother had always been ill, growing worse as the years passed, even as she hid behind sweet smiles and affectionate words.
Until the day she simply collapsed in the middle of the living room and didn’t get back up.
Everything became a blur: his mother lying on the floor, not breathing; the ambulance; the ride to the hospital; the doctors talking to his father, explaining the situation.
She was sleeping.
And with her, a piece of each of their hearts was gone.
William lost the biggest piece.
Right before his eyes, Michael saw his father change.
Damn it, he might have been a child, but he wasn’t stupid. All he had to do was look at his own father and then at Henry. Even without knowing exactly what an ideal father was, Henry was clearly better than William and admitting that hurt.
Before, William had still been present. He cared. He looked after them in his own way. In Michael’s eyes, he truly cared about them… he was a good father.
Now, he only buried himself deeper and deeper in work. He completely forgot his children existed, acknowledging them only to yell, scold them… or, on those rare days when he was in a good mood. Those were the days that made Michael believe that maybe his father was still there, hidden beneath all that pain and resentment.
The door to the old basement William used as an office once always open now remained locked. Even when Michael knocked countless times, calling for his father, there was never any response.
Whether he was being ignored or William truly couldn’t hear him, he would never know.
It was frustrating how the man would simply leave the house most of the time without even feeding his children, leaving that responsibility to a nine year old boy.
A responsibility Michael took on with open arms, along with so many others, for the sake of his siblings.
And, even if he never admitted it out loud, a small part of him still hoped that if he were useful, if he took care of the house, his siblings, everything that needed to be done then maybe, just maybe, his father would look at him again the way he did before everything went to hell.
Maybe there was still a chance for a happy family for the Aftons… right?
Well, at least the man hadn’t lost his obsession with cleanliness.
Michael couldn’t understand how William always found time to make sure every room in that damn house was sterilized. And he had been doing it for years.
It was almost funny to see him completely lose his composure over a single speck of dust out of place.
Well… at least it was funny.
Until he started taking that anger out on them.
Some of the bruises on his stomach still hurt when he moved.
Sighing, resigned to his fate, Michael finally got out of bed.
As he went downstairs, already dressed and in a hurry, he didn’t expect to find his little brother already awake, sitting on a small stool and clutching the little Fredbear plush as if it were a lifeline.
“Hey, Ev… nightmares?”
Michael sat beside him and, without waiting for an answer, gently wrapped an arm around the younger boy, pulling him into a side hug.
“They… they… they took you… and Liz too… and Dad… and I… I was alone… I don’t want to be alone…”
Evan collapsed against his brother’s chest, tears freely streaming as Michael carefully rubbed his back, as if Evan might shatter entirely with even a slightly stronger touch.
Michael had always found the pizzeria fun, even welcoming, despite the mediocre pizza and the soda that tasted like shit. Seriously, if he ever inherited that place, the first thing he’d do would be improve the quality of the food.
The Puppet, when not confined to its box, handed out small gifts to the children and acted almost like the pizzeria’s security, while Fredbear and Spring Bonnie sang and danced. Sometimes, an employee would enter the suits to play with the kids.
But Evan was terrified of them.
Michael could understand why. He had heard plenty about the accident that had happened a few months before his mother was hospitalized.
He didn’t know exactly what had happened, but he understood the basics: there had been a technical failure in Fredbear while an employee was inside the suit. The man had nearly lost an arm. Since then, only William and Henry entered the suits.
Michael couldn’t imagine the horror of that day. He hadn’t been there.
But Evan had.
And it had left a deep trauma in the boy.
“Hey… remember what I told you?” Michael said, pulling back slightly to wipe his brother’s tears away with his thumb. “They’re just nightmares. They aren’t real. How about I make us a special breakfast? We just need to wake your sister first, okay?”
A warm little smile appeared on his face as he tried to calm the younger boy. After all, that was his duty. He was the oldest. He had to take care of his little siblings.
Before he could turn around, Elizabeth was already coming down the stairs, rubbing her eyes to chase away the sleep. A ray of sunlight streamed through the window, playing with the orange strands of her hair.
“Good morning, Mike! Ev!” she yawned, before running over and crashing into them in the biggest hug her small arms could manage.
“Easy there, you little ball of energy,” Michael laughed, ruffling his sister’s hair and earning a grumble in response. “I’m going to make us a super special breakfast, how does that sound?”
In the kitchen, he prepared scrambled eggs, bacon, and orange juice with what little remained in the fridge, using a skill that only came with practice. He knew he would soon have to ask his father for money to buy more food. The delicious aroma quickly filled the room.
The three of them ate in silence. A comfortable silence, mixed with the clinking of Elizabeth’s cutlery, far more comforting than any forced conversation.
After the meal, Michael grabbed his backpack and took his siblings to school. Maybe now he regretted staying in bed for a few extra minutes, since he had to rush the two of them so they wouldn’t be late.
Even so, procrastinating for a few minutes had been pleasant. Maybe he’d start waking up a little earlier just to be able to do that more often.
As he entered the classroom, he lazily scanned the room, observing the familiar faces of the other students. The walls decorated with colorful posters and children’s drawings contrasted with the cold outside.
Mrs. Smith, always kind, took attendance while the sound of children’s voices filled the room. Michael, however, was far more interested in spinning a pencil between his fingers, seeing how long he could keep it in the air without dropping it.
He actually liked school; there, he could pretend to be a normal child, take a nap on his desk, or play with anything to pass the time. Even though the routine bored him to hell and the classes were way too easy.
“Charlotte Emily.”
A smile lit up the girl’s face as she answered. Known to most as Charlie, she was Henry’s daughter. Outgoing, a true social butterfly, she made friends with everyone including Michael even though they weren’t particularly close.
The class went by without anything noteworthy. The activities were simply far too easy, and he felt a quiet pride whenever he was praised for it. They said he had inherited his father’s intelligence, and that made him feel a little closer to him.
When the bell finally rang, the students ran excitedly out to the playground. All of them except Michael, who remained seated, ready to take a nap.
“Stuck in that chair again, Mr. Afton?”
At the playful voice, he lifted his head and found Charlie there, before letting his forehead drop back onto the desk.
“I don’t really have anything to do out there, Charlotte. I’d rather take a nap.”
When he lifted his face again, there was a small smile there. A brief glimpse of the real Michael, as if he allowed someone other than his siblings to see past the facade of disinterest he wore without even realizing it.
“Come on, Mike. Stop being such a buzzkill. And it’s Charlie I’ve told you a thousand times! Want me to spell it out? It’s super simple: C-H-A-R-L-I-E.”
She pouted, hands on her hips, like an annoyed mother. Knowing she wouldn’t give up, Michael stood with a sigh. He already knew how stubborn the girl could be.
They went outside side by side, passing the small playground where the children played and called out to Charlie to join them. She waved, signaling she’d come later, earning another sigh from Michael; he knew he’d end up being dragged into it eventually.
It wasn’t completely terrible, though. The other kids could be annoying and even cruel most of the time, but there were a few nice ones… like Charlie. And also Jeremy and Dave.
“So… how was your morning?” she asked when they stopped near the fence that separated elementary school from kindergarten.
“The usual. I made breakfast for my siblings and took them to school.”
The exhaustion and mild frustration in his voice were impossible to ignore. He loved his siblings, but the weight on his shoulders one that had grown over the years was too much.
“Doesn’t Uncle William take care of that?” she asked, frowning. “Sometimes my dad leaves early, but he always leaves breakfast ready for us.”
The concern and a certain judgment directed at William overflowed from her.
Michael looked away.
“Things haven’t been easy since… that day…”
His voice dropped to almost a whisper, as if the words alone were enough to shatter him into a thousand pieces.
“Sorry, Mike… I didn’t mean to upset you…” Charlie began, genuinely remorseful, before suddenly stopping, eyes widening. “Oh! I know what’ll cheer you up! At the end of the month it’s my eleventh birthday. You’ll be there, right? It’s going to be so much fun!”
She pulled him into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, smiling broadly, showing all her teeth. Michael froze for a second before returning it, even if with an awkward laugh.
“Of course we’ll be there, Charlie. I promise.”
The birthday was slowly approaching, and although he didn’t really like parties, he would make an exception for her.
Even if, for some reason, his stomach twisted painfully.