Afton Family Skits [OLD]

Five'O'Clock Shadow {Past}

Author's Note~

And I'm back with more slightly gay stuff. Ahaha-

Warnings:
• Swearing
• Homosexuality

That's really it. Enjoy!

Oh, wait- y'all need a little explanation! It'd be wise.  TwT
So, the first few weeks after the Bite of '87 and Evan's death, Mike often went home with Noah after school to hide from William. He was afraid that William would bring him back to the adoption center, pretty much dispose of him. (Remember--Mrs. Afton doesn't exist. All of the Afton kids are adopted in my AU.) So he'd hide out at the Wrights' house, often staying the night--even on school nights.

Now that's it! Hope you enjoy the skit.  :D

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P.O.V: Michael

I awake with a start, my scream following from my dream to reality. Trembling, I look to my side. Noah isn't there. Then again, I just fell asleep an hour ago. I think. I turn to the clock. It's five in the morning. So, two hours ago, since I fell asleep somewhere around three.

A loud creak makes me jump. I reach to my side to grab the flashlight I keep on my nightstand--shit. It's not there! Oh, right, because I'm at the Wrights' house. For the fourth time this week...

I watch nervously as a shadow sneaks around my room stealthily. It's too dark to see who it is. A kidnapper? One of the Wrights? A random homeless person looking for somewhere to stay for the night? I can't tell.

"Wh-Who's there?" I whisper-shout, trying to sound brave. But it doesn't really work.

P.O.V: M. Noah

"Wh-Who's there?" Mike asks quietly. I thought he'd be able to see me if he woke up--which, of course, he did--but it must be too dark in here. I walk over to him, not giving a care in the world about being sneaky anymore. At first he tenses up, but when he sees that it's me, he breathes a sigh of relief.

"It's just me," I assure him, a sad smile on my face. I climb onto the bed, which is technically mine, and pull him in close. "What were you dreaming about?"

He gives a slow, subtle shake of his head. I know what that means. He was dreaming about Evan's death again. Whether is was what people are calling the "Bite of 1987" or his brother dying in the hospital, it wasn't a good thing.

"Do... Do you want your journal? You seem to writing your dreams in it a lot," I say, my voice dead silent. I don't know why I'm being so quiet, though.

"Yes, please," he mumbles.

I give him a smile and grab his journal and pen off of his nightstand. In the process, I turn on the bedside lamp. The light burns both of our eyes, but I quickly adjust. Mike has a more difficult time getting used to the light, but he adjusts. I hand him his journal, and he flips it open to the next available page. He starts to write, his neat handwriting filling the lines with the details about the nightmare realm only he's been in.

I quickly turn my curious eyes away. If he doesn't want to tell me what he saw, I'm not going to snoop.

Twelve minutes later, Mike gives me the journal as he says, "If you want, you can look at them. I've only been writing them down for two reasons. One, so I can prove to my father that I do feel bad for killing Evan; and two, so that I can just get the dreams out of my head." He rubs his eyes. "I doubt it'll change William's viewpoint, though. He's always going to hate me."

For the first time in a very long time, I'm at a loss for words. I don't know for certain if William hates him, but I do know that he hasn't been happy. He's always in a bad mood whenever I'm working at CB's and he comes to supervise. Gets pissed off at the slightest mistake.

My fingers trace circles on the smooth leather of Michael's journal's cover. I'm so curious on what Mike sees at night, but I don't want to invade his privacy.

Suddenly, he reaches over and flips it open to the pages he wrote on tonight. Well, more like this morning.

"Just read it. Please?"

I laugh. "Why do you want me to read it so bad?"

"I... I guess I just want to share it with someone. To tell myself that I'm not crazy? I- I don't know, it's weird. And y-you're my closest friend, so I know I'd get an honest opinion, I guess."

"You just want to share it with someone else. I get it. But are you sure you want to share it with me?"

"Just read it!" he exclaims angrily.

I turn to look at him, but he's not looking at me. Even though, I can still see the tears spilling from his eyes. So I grab his chin and turn it towards me. I wipe away his tears while he stares at me with wide eyes. It's probably just the lack of light in here, but it kind of looks like he's blushing. To my surprise, he closes his eyes and leans into my hand.

"Will you please read it?" he asks when he finally opens his eyes again and sits up multiple minutes later.

"If you really want me to, sure."

He nods his head and lays on my lap. He must be tired. I fingercomb his hair for a few seconds, then start read his journal.

~ Journal entry and rest of story will be in next part ~