The Fall of the Aftons

084: William Afton

William was sitting at the dinner table, trying to feed Elizabeth a bite of her food as he watched Evan eat his food without a word, when there was suddenly a knock on the front door. He set the baby spoon down on the table and stood up, then walked over to the front door. He peered through the peek hole, frowning when he saw Michael standing with Lavender on the porch step. He quickly unlocked and opened the door, holding it open. But Michael wouldn't step inside.

"Where were you?" William finally asked after a minute or two of uncomfortable silence passed by.

"At the Rixons'," he mumbled as he tried to push past William.

William caught him by the wrist, trying to keep his son with him so they could talk before he had to leave. But he didn't miss the way that Michael completely froze with his hand on the boy's wrist. Michael barely even breathed.

"Thank you for bringing him home, Lavender," William said with a small grin.

Lavender gave him a soft smile in return as she nodded her head, then she walked away.

William felt Michael's arm go slack in his grip as he shoved the door closed. He looked at his son, whose free hand was closed tightly around his Song necklace.

Michael only ever did that when he was afraid.

"Your dinner plate is on the table," William told his son gently. "Evan and Elizabeth are already at the table, eating their food. I have to leave for your and your brother's parent-teacher conferences."

For just a second, terror flashed onto Michael's face. But it cleared immediately after that as he shrugged. "Have fun," he mumbled. Then he yanked his hand free and walked into the kitchen, greeting his siblings with big hugs.

~ ~ ~

William quietly tapped his foot on the tile floor of the school as he impatiently reread the papers he'd received from Evan's teacher. A field trip permission slip that Evan had forgotten to bring home the past few days; a concerned note from the principal about Evan's obvious speech delay; a paper with information about the school's speech therapist that Evan's teacher wanted him to start seeing on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays; and the report card from the completed semester.

"Afton?" an unfamiliar voice called.

He flinched and pushed himself off of the wall, turning in the direction of Michael's homeroom teacher's classroom. "That's me," he said to the teacher standing in the doorway.

The teacher motioned for him to follow after her as she walked into the classroom.

William did as instructed and followed her inside, standing awkwardly to the side of the door as the teacher closed the classroom door.

"Have a seat, Mister Afton," she said politely as she motioned to a random student desk in front of her own.

He nodded his head in understanding and stepped forward, taking a seat at the way-too-small desk.

"Before we start, is Missus Afton here with you today?" the teacher asked.

William felt his face flush in embarrassment. "No, ma'am. I'm not married. Michael is adopted."

She made a face of understanding before looking at the papers strewn across her desk. "Okay. Well, first things first, I'm Missus Schmidt. I'm Michael's homeroom teacher and orchestra director."

Orchestra? Michael plays an instrument? Since when? William thought. "Um, it's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am," he said kindly, a slight chuckle filling his words. "How has Michael been faring?"

Missus Schmidt frowned. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm afraid that he hasn't been doing as well as he previously was. He's still in all of the advanced classes, of course. But he went from straight A-pluses to Bs and B-minuses. It was sudden, too. In a snap, his grades dropped."

"That... doesn't sound like my Michael. Are you sure that you're not talking about a classmate of his that shares the same name?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sure. And this is exactly why I bring this up. Has anything been going on inside or outside of school that could be, like, messing with his ability to focus?"

"I don't think so. He hasn't mentioned anything."

Then again, he doesn't talk to me anymore unless we're arguing.

Missus Schmidt hummed thoughtfully. "If you say so, sir."

~ ~ ~

When William returned home, all of his children were on the living room couch. Michael was in between his siblings, reading a picture book to Evan and Elizabeth. Evan has half-asleep as he leaned against his brother while Elizabeth was babbling unhappily at Michael as he held something onto her forehead. When William looked closer, it looked like Michael was holding a damp rag to her head.

"She's got a fever again, doesn't she?" William asked quietly, now standing behind his children.

Michael flinched, startled, and turned around. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw William. "I didn't hear you come in," he explained, a peal of soft laughter filling his voice. "But yes, she has a fever. The last time that I checked, her temperature was 101.3 degrees."

"101.3?! How is she not dead?" William exclaimed worriedly as he lifted his daughter off of the couch, inspecting her.

"Sorry!" Michael exclaimed nervously. "Her temperature was at 38.5 degrees the last time I checked. I always forget that you still use Celsius. I'm sorry."

He sighed in relief. "It's okay. I always forget that you use Fahrenheit, so I guess it's even." He chuckled. "Would you put Evan to bed? I'll give Elizabeth some paracetamol and tuck her in."

"Yeah, sure," Michael mumbled as he stood up. He lifted his little brother from the couch and started the ascent up the stairs. But stopped just before he reached the next floor. "Also, just so you know, I'm so sorry that my grades are dropping. I... I guess that I'm not as perfect as you want me to be."

The crack in his voice broke William's heart.