Promise Me - A Michael Afton x Fem Reader story

Chapter 23 - Why?

CW: ((cursing, heavy topics, abuse, slight
Emetophobia warning ))
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By the time Henry pulls into his driveway you're crying has already stopped. You're completely deprived of sensation at this point, so is Michael.

The house is dark when you all walk in, but nobody bothers to turn on a light. Henry locks the door and you and Michael go to the couch. There's a numb static feeling throughout your whole body and Michaels. Your eyes are puffy and your breathing is still uneven. You and Michael sit side by side wondering the exact same thing. What happens now?

Henry sinks into the armchair diagonal from the couch. His elbows rest on his knees and his hands cover his face, making it difficult to predict what he was going to do or say next. How the hell is he going to explain this to two fifteen year olds when even he doesn't even fully understand what just happened. "Henry?" Michael asks quietly. Henry looks up from his hands. "What happened?"

"Wait" you cut in "let me start first" your voice is now emotionless, like a robot. You want to cry, but can't anymore. "I was looking through the rooms and then I remembered wheat you told me- that she wasn't allowed to see baby, so I ran there. I didn't notice anything at first but then I saw this on the stage" you hold out the bow in your other hand for Michael to see. "So I got closer thinking, or hoping rather, that she was just playing a prank. When I got close I saw red streaks down Baby's stomach area, then I .... saw the blood spots on the stage. I put together what happened in my head and I ran out and Henry found me. Then I told him what happened and he went in."

"Right," Henry starts "I found her and she told me what happened so I ran in. I also saw what she saw, the red marks and the blood on the stage. From what I can tell, it appears as though her stomach area is easy to open and she's a big animatronic. It's definitely possible... for a child to squeeze in there. I'm not sure what could've happened since I didn't design the animatronics or help William at all, I don't know their capabilities, what their endoskeleton looks like, or what it's made up of. It could've been a malfunction and her stomach opened she crawled inside and then the stomach closed, which would've... crushed her"  he whispered the last part. "That's the only logical way it could've happened, that I can think of at least."

"Oh." Is all Michael whispers. His mind has gone completely blank. "You're father is taking care of the situation now and then coming home, I'll bring you there when he's back but he won't be for a while." Michael nods and there's a long silence after. There's nothing else to say. Nothing else to do except just sit and think. You want to just curl into your warm bed, to pull the covers up and cuddle a stuffed animal or pillow, you need something comforting at the moment. "I'm.. I'm gonna go to my room" you stand from the couch and take a few steps but that's when you realize there's not another pair of steps behind you. When you turn around you see that Michaels watching you walk away from the couch "You're not coming Mikey?" He says nothing and quickly makes his way over to you. "Thought you were going alone" he murmurs. "I'll be out here if you guys need me okay?" Henry says. "Alright" you respond. You continue your walk to your room now with Michael following behind you.

The sound of the rain still tapping your window is the only thing that fills your ears when you walk into your room. Once Michael is fully in your room you close the door behind him and place the bow on your dresser. Now it just him and you, in the dark. You stare at him and he stares back, both of you unsure of what to do. Michael looks into your eyes, they're filled with grief and confusion. He's seen this look in your eyes too many times now, and it breaks him just as much as it did the first time. He holds out his arms and you go right into them. Thats when you realize that it's not the warmth of your bed that you want comfort from, it's him.