Afton Family Skits [OLD]

Rules, Roses, and Haters {Past} <2>

P.O.V: M. Noah

I watch as, within a period of a few seconds, Mike's eyes roll back into his head and his head lolls to the side. Well, as far as his head can go. His face is pale and is painted a deathly shade of gray. He doesn't seem to be breathing at all anymore.

The man suffocating Mike seems to notice that he has gone unconscious and seems to panic. He jumps back and drops Michael, and I rush over to catch him. I just barely catch him, and I fall to the ground with him in my arms.

All of this because of a kiss. A kiss. A singular fucking kiss. A singular fucking kiss! We weren't hurting anybody! None of the kids were even paying any attention to us. It's Baby's last open request hour, so all of the little children are surrounding Baby as she dances however the kids would like and sings whatever the kids want.

I hold Mike close and scrutinize every little detail on him. He's barely breathing. Every time he takes a breath, it's extremely shallow and way too fast for him to be getting any oxygen. His neck is stained with blue, black, and purple bruises. He's still a shade of fatal gray and extremely pale, and his typically pale pink lips are purple from oxygen deprivation. And his nails are cracked and bleeding, result of scratching at the man's thick-skinned hands.

"What the hell?!" I scream at him, no longer giving a shit about the kids around us. "What is your fucking problem? You could've killed him! Do you know how lucky you are that you didn't just murder him?"

The man shrugs coldly, his face aggressive and indifferent. "He doesn't deserve to work here, anyways. He's a faggot, a homosexual. No homos deserve jobs at such a well-paying place like this."

"If you want to go bother the manager, go get him and bring him here. But I promise you, you're not going to be happy with the results of this... this... incident," I warn.

"Fine," he grumbles. "I'll go get the fucking manager." And he stomps away angrily.

I brush a sweaty strand of hair out of Mike's face and trace a hand over his wet cheeks. I hadn't even noticed that he was crying when the man was busy choking him. There's no way that the tears on my fingers are from before the incident. They would've dried since then.

"What the heck?!" Mr. Fitzgerald shouts, and I whip my head around to see him rushing towards Mike and me. "Noah, what's going on? Why are you on the floor?"

I hug Michael closely, not wanting Mr. Fitzgerald to take him from me. "This man was choking Michael!"

Mr. Fitzgerald stops right in front of me and comes around me. He bends down next to Mike and inspects him just as I did. As of the moment, Mike's breathing has gotten a little better, but not a lot. It's making me nervous how no color has returned to his face.

Mr. Fitzgerald stands up quickly and rests his hands on his hip. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave and never return. This is against every rule and policy we have at any Fazbear Entertainment's restaurants or services. Assaulting an employee, especially one as important as Mister Afton right here? Utterly unacceptable. Leave. Now."

"This kid is homosexual! He shouldn't be allowed to work here!" the man shouts, just as livid as before.

"Mister Afton is one of our most important and admired employees, sir." Mr. Fitzgerald turns to me. "Get him to the hospital. We don't want to risk damage to his vocal cords or airway."

I nod my head stiffly and stand up, carrying Michael in my arms. As I walk away, I can hear Mr. Fitzgerald and the man arguing as Mr. Fitzgerald tries to get him to leave.

Time skip

The doctor said that Mike will be fine. He's suffered no severe damage, only the bruises and swelling. As of the moment, he's hooked up to a breathing tube since his breathing hasn't gotten much better.

All of a sudden, Mike shoots up. I jump back further into the chair I've been sitting in, startled.

"Mikey?" I ask quietly, trying to get his attention. "Are you all right?"

Mike doesn't look to me. He's just sitting there, staring off into space with horrified eyes. His hands hover around his neck, his fingers occasionally brushing against the bruises every few seconds. He's breathing too fast, and his eyes are shiny with unshed tears.

"Michael?" I stand up and go over to him. "What's wrong?" I take one of his hands in mine and give it a reassuring squeeze. That seems to get his attention.

Mike yanks his hand away from mine and wipes his eyes. He starts to sob quietly, turning away from me. I climb onto the edge of his bed and rest my hand on his shoulder. I'm not exactly certain on why he's crying, but I can still comfort him.

Mike flinches at my touch, but once he realizes that it's just me, he instantly curls up underneath my arm. His crying doesn't settle down at all for a good five minutes, and I finally realize why he's crying. He hates being at the hospital, whether it's him being treated or someone else. But that's not why he's cuddled up next to me like a frightened infant. That's exactly it--he's scared, terrified. Frightened from being assaulted from that crazy jackass. And I don't blame him at all.

Mike suddenly sits up and tries go stifle his sobbing. He hiccups and mutters, "Noah, I'm so sorry!" He turns away from me. "I-I... I never thought that anything like what he did would happen." I can see from the way his shoulders move that his hands are hovering around his neck again. "I'm so sorry."

"Oh, Mikey," I mumble sadly. "This wasn't your fault. It's not your fault that he was such a fuckhead. No one would've guessed that a random man would go and start to strangle you all because of a single kiss."

Mike reluctantly nods his head, then turns to me. He looks me over for a second, then turns back around. And he looks back at me again, then turns around. But he doesn't look at me again. He just sits there, back hunched, probably crying.

I don't know what to do. Mike's not settling down, but I don't want him to feel... restricted--I guess--towards sharing things to me. It took a long time for me to scale the walls he had put up after I'd moved away, and I'm not just going to throw all of that hard work out the window.

"A-Am I allowed to go home yet?" Mike asks.

"No, not yet."

He slumps even further. Poor Mikey.

♤ ♤ ♤

The End

I know, I know, it's sad. Buuuuuut- my stories seem to be better when they're dramatic, so-
I dunno, that's just how I see them.

Have a great day/night!