The Fall of the Aftons

149: William Afton

Michael suddenly took off in a sprint, accidentally running into William in the process. He grunted as he was knocked back, just barely managing to catch himself before he fell backward, then turned around to see Michael sprinting upstairs.

He sighed, dragging a hand down his face, and rushed upstairs, calling Michael's name as he ran after him. He followed him until Michael ran into his bedroom, slamming the door shut. William tried to open the door but quickly found that it was locked.

"Michael!" he shouted, knocking on the door. "Michael, come out of there right now! I need to talk to you!"

He received no response.

"Michael, come on," he called, leaning his forehead against the door. "Please come out here. I need to talk to you."

But, after minutes of begging, knocking, shouting, and pounding, he started to feel hopeless. Michael still wasn't answering. He was ready to give up any moment now.

"Okay, what's going on out here?" Henry asked as he came up the stairs, walking over to William. "I came to pick up Charlotte, and you've been breaking the damn door down since I got here!"

William hesitated, dragging his hands down his face. "I... I hit him." He sighed, staring at the door blocking him from his son. "We got in a big fight, and I slapped him across the face."

"Crap... That's not good," Henry muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No, it's not. And now he won't let me in."

He sighed long and hard, running a hand through his hair. "Let me talk to him. You and I both know that he trusts me more than he trusts you—especially after how you've been behaving recently."

"Thank you," William mumbled begrudgingly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Henry nodded in a silent thanks, then waited for William to back up before knocking on the door. "Michael? Michael, it's Henry. May I come in?" When he didn't get a response, either, he turned to William and shrugged. But when a soft click sounded from the door, his attention diverted back to the door. He slowly pushed it open, stepping inside.

Michael was on the floor next to his bed, his back leaning against the bed frame as he stared out the balcony door. He had his Walkman headphones on again, blaring music in his ears.

Henry chuckled quietly and stepped further inside, pushing the door shut. But the door didn't close all of the way, a small crack remaining. So William leaned forward, watching his best friend and son through the crack.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" Henry asked as he pulled off Michael's headphones.

Michael slowly nodded his head, switching off his walkman before setting it on the bedside table next to him.

"Your dad told me that he hit you. Are you okay?" Henry asked quietly.

"I'm fine," he immediately responded, his voice barely louder than a mumble.

Henry frowned. "Are you still in pain? Do you want me to get you some acetaminophen or ibuprofen?"

Michael shook his head.

"If you don't mind me asking, what exactly were you two fighting about?" he asked. "Your dad said that you two got in a big fight and that he hit you because of that."

Michael sighed. "I don't even remember. It was just a fight about something for Evan's funeral, but it escalated really fast. He started... I don't know how to explain it. He started to just... He just blamed me for everything. Terrance's death, Evan's death... I think he even threatened to send me back to the Center." He sniffled softly, rubbing his eyes. "I'm not sure if he technically did. 'And it needs to stop before you don't have a family anymore, Michael—whether that be by your doing or mine,' or something like that."

"Are you serious?!" Henry exclaimed, baffled.

Michael simply nodded his head. "But that's not what I'm upset about," he whispered.

Henry frowned. "What are you upset about, then?"

Michael sniffled again. "It's... It's why he hit me." He held his cheek in his hand, staring out into the distance. "He hit me because he doesn't understand. And he doesn't understand because he won't listen to me!" he exclaimed, reaching back and slamming his fist into the wooden frame of the bed. He just barely missed Henry's leg, making Henry flinch away from him. "I was forced to do it! I was forced to do the prank! E-E-Even when I told Evan the dangers of the prank, he told me to do it anyway. He s-said that he'd prefer himself to die than the b-boys springlock me again."

William gasped quietly to himself, immediately clamping his hand over his mouth to stifle the sound. The boys have been springlocking Michae? When? He wondered how the three even knew how to activate the suits—neither he nor Henry had taught them.

"They've been springlocking you?" Henry asked worriedly, his eyes wide with fear. "Is that how you had the springlock wounds when your father and I couldn't find you that one day?"

Michael nodded his head, looking away.

Henry frowned and sat down next to him, resting his arms on his knees. "Have they done it again recently?"

He nodded again.

"Why?!" Henry asked, frowning.

Michael sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "Punishment for calling Noah and telling him what happened to Evan. It wasn't even me who called him, either; it was stupid Simon who did." He sniffled, hiccupping quietly. "It hurts. I thought that the beatings from school hurt, but this? This is a whole new level of pain."

"Why don't you take some over-the-counter pain stuff?" Henry suggested.

"I have been," he mumbled. "It doesn't work. The injuries are too bad for it to do anything." He sniffled again as tears started to fall from his eyes. "I didn't mean to kill him!" he suddenly exclaimed, his voice shaking as he started to cry. "I didn't mean to kill Evan! I swear I didn't, Henry. I-I-I'm not some ps-psychopath murderer like people say. I was just doing what I was told to!"

Henry frowned, pulling Michael into a tight hug as he started to sob. "I know, bud... I'm sorry..."