The Fall of the Aftons

108: William Afton

A few months passed since Michael had been trapped in his locker, and he was doing much better now. He was still struggling with his anorexia, but he was getting a little better. Henry was doing a great job of staying on top of the kid to make sure he ate--much better than William was at it. So far, they could only get the boy to eat about one meal and a few snacks throughout the day, but that was fine. It was better than him not eating anything at all for days in a row like he was before.

At the moment, William was at his desk in his office at home, filling out paperwork he couldn't finish when he was at Fazbear's. But he was suddenly interrupted when somebody knocked on his office door.

William turned around in his swivel chair to face the door, not surprised to see Henry standing in the open doorway.

"Do you need something, Hen?" William asked kindly.

Then he noticed that Henry was crying.

Worried about his friend, he stood up and walked over to Henry, dragging the man inside his office as he closed the door. He pulled Henry in for a huge hug.

Henry buried his face in William's shoulders, starting to sob violently. His sobs were so strong that they shook both him and William so much to the point that William had to sit him down on the floor.

William had no idea why Henry was crying so bloody hard. He was no longer married, so it couldn't be something related to Doc. He just bought his new house three days ago and he hadn't bought any food to put it in yet, so he couldn't have burnt it down. And the twins were at Doc's house, so nothing could totally happen to them.

"Henry, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, caringly rubbing Henry's back.

Unsurprisingly, Henry didn't answer. He just sat in William's arms, weeping loudly for about forty minutes before he finally started to settle down. It took quite a while, but his murderous sobs turned into exasperated cries before he was making only a small amount of noise.

"Are you ready to talk now?" William asked once his friend's crying were at the volume level of a whisper.

"N-No, n-n-not y-yet," he mumbled. "I-I... I just need a f-few m-minutes." He buried his face further into William's shoulder, sniffling before a soft, single sob slipped out of him. A few moments later, he moved his head onto William's shoulder, playing with William's hair for about six minutes before he stopping making any noise whatsoever.

"What's wrong?" William finally asked about twenty minutes later.

Henry inhaled a deep, shaky breath. "Sammy... He... H-He... H-He's dead." He started to pull on William's hair, probably unintentionally.

Sammy?  But I didn't kill Sammy. I killed Charlie. What does he mean that Sammy is dead?

"What happened?" William mumbled, wrapping his friend in a tighter hug. "How did he die? He was healthy before he left for Doc's the other day."

"He... He was murdered. The police don't know who did it. There's no evidence for them to find. They've looked everywhere and can't find anything."

Well, that's good. I left nothing for them to find. I don't understand how he's getting Charlotte and Samuel mixed up, though. He's lost his mind.

"I'm so sorry, Henry. That's terrible," William said sadly. "I hope that they can find who did it and bring him or her to justice."

"M-Me, too..." He started to sob again. He cried on and off for almost two hours before he cried himself to sleep, his head dangling off of William's shoulder.