You're My Drug ♡ ... (William Afton x Reader) ... (Being Rewritten)

Opening Up-[05/09/1985]

"Will? Who was that?" They asked, concern clear in their toned down voice.

And there it was. The question he had dreaded since the call had ended.

"Well, that- that was my wife." He stammered out, fumbling over his words and a tight feeling blooming in his chest. Behind his eyes were burning, and his throat compacted with the need to cry.

"Oh.." They murmured, clearly concerned for his well-being.

He found himself looking at the ground again because old habits die hard. "What were you two arguing about?" William's face darkened. "Sorry to pry! If you're not comfortable-" He cut them off.

"Don't apologize. I know I haven't known you for very long, but-.." He paused and averted his gaze, his throat tight and constricted. "I-I really trust you.. I haven't met someone I trusted this much since I first met Henry." He said quietly.

𝙔/𝙣'𝙨 𝙋𝙊𝙑
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Your eyes widened at his words. He.. trusted you?

"My wife and I don't have the best relationship anymore," He continued, "Not since my two youngest children died. She blamed me and my constant working. We tend to fight a lot. She thought that I was cheating." He sighed. "Sorry, you had to hear that." He muttered under his breath.

"It's not your fault." You reassured. Because it wasn't.

He looked astounded like he didn't believe your words. "If you're okay with it, we can talk about your situation a bit more to get it off your chest?"

"Mhm. That'd be nice." A weak, but not forced, smile made its way to his saddened face. "Let's go sit down, okay?" It wasn't really a question, but you phrased it as one.

You two walked over to the living area. You sat down after him. "Continue whenever you're ready."

After a few deep breaths on his part, he started talking. "Well, let's start from the beginning, shall we?" You gave a light chuckle over his antics. "Sure."

"Well, we were your typical suburban family of 5. Though I owned a small business at the time. I don't know if you've heard about it, but I used to own a small diner with Henry, 'Fredbear's Family Diner'?"

"Oh yeah, that place. Fredbear and Springbonnie?" You asked, knowing the answer.
"Mhm. Well, obviously, I couldn't be home often; running a business takes up a lot of time."

"Yeah." You affirmed to make sure he knew you were paying attention. "So I wasn't at home to watch the kids. Eventually, C.C told me his brother was bullying him. I ended up coming up with a solution. I made a stuffed bear to watch over him and warn when Mike, his older brother, was coming."

"One second.. What about Clara? Why wasn't she intervening?" You asked hate seeping through your words. "I was going to get to that, but I did eventually find out she had been going out with her friends instead of watching them," He continued, "Her excuse was 'Micheal could watch the kids.'" He finished, rolling his eyes.

"What a bitch." You said.

"Yeah. But my plan didn't work perfectly.." He paused. He looked visibly distressed like he had remembered something he didn't want to.

His breathing heightened, his chest moving up and down quickly, trying to accommodate. Then it struck you, faster than a bullet train. He was having a panic attack.

𝓦𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓪𝓶'𝓼 𝓟𝓞𝓥
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William's head was spinning.

He remembered watching through the cameras on Fredbear plush's eyes, seeing his son's head get crushed by an animatronic jaw.

Hearing his screams and seeing the look on his face. He fell back, his heart beating out of his chest, and he was sweating bullets. His vision was blurry, and his hearing was muffled.

The images kept flashing through his head. The blood, his son's body going limp, and the look on Michael's face. He couldn't take it all.

Why did these memories have to rise to the surface? He heard someone talking.

"Slow your breathing down." It was muffled, and he only heard a few of the words, but it was still something his mind could cling onto to try and right itself.

They kept talking in a gentle tone. "Calm down. It's okay."

He tried to focus on their voice. The speaker walked in front of him and showed him where their hands were. "I'm going to sit next to you.." He started hearing clearer, a lot more of the words making it to his ears.

The person sat down and gently wrapped their arms around him, making sure he knew what they were doing. They started speaking again. "I need you to calm down. Breathe." He pulled in a shaky breath.

"Good. Again." He repeated. "Keep going. Now... Three things you can see." His hearing was starting to get even clearer. "The tv, couch, a-and the rug." He stumbled over his words because of the lingering panic and anxiety. "Good. Deep breaths. Three things you can hear." The speaker was still calm.

"Your voice, the fan, and your breathing." He was slowly calming down. "Good job. Now, list three things you can move."

"My hands," He said, moving his hands in and out of a clenched position.

"My arm," He lifted it out of its spot, then placed it back down. "And my ankle." He moved his free ankle around a bit. "Great. Did that help?" He only nodded. He then blinked and rubbed his eyes to clear his vision.

"Okay. Thank goodness. Let's get you to bed. You can go home in the morning." Y/n assured him in a calming tone of voice.

"Okay." He said, voice still shaking. Y/n stood up and stood in front of him, slowly reaching out to help him up. He grabbed their hand and stood up. His legs were wobbly.

"Let's go. Do you need help walking?" He nodded. "Okay." Y/n wrapped their arm around his back under his shoulder blades, and he placed his arm on their shoulders. They slowly made their way to Y/n's bedroom.

They walked into their small room, and Y/n brought William over to the queen-sized bed. "There you go. If you need anything just ask. Would you like a glass of water?" They asked sincerely. "Mhm." He murmured,  not having the energy to raise his voice. "Okay, I'll be back."

𝙔/𝙣'𝙨 𝙋𝙊𝙑
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You walked out of the room and into the kitchen. You pulled a glass out of the cupboard and brought it to the sink. It'd have to be a while before you asked him about it again; striking up another panic attack wouldn't be ideal.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You were so lucky to have dealt with panic attacks before.

You made your way back to the room. You placed two gentle knocks on the door. William responded with a muffled, "Come in."

You opened the door and slid through the doorway.

"Here's your water. I hope that you get to bed quickly. I swear, if your wife is an asshole, come to my place. Anytime." You said, offering your place as a sort of safe haven. "You can stay the night if you need to. I don't want you taking that kind of abuse."

"Thank you." William replied.