Rekindled Flame

The Last One Standing

In this universe, Michael Afton has not perished. Instead, he built a life and a family with his wife, Katie, affectionately nicknamed Tate. At 32 years old, Michael is now facing life as a single parent after the recent loss of Tate, who struggled with her health before succumbing to it. Together, they have a 16-year-old son named Oliver (Olie) and 11-year-old twin daughters, Christi (Chris) and Clare.

Michaels pov: 

She's gone. After all the treatments and endless expenses, those doctors couldn't save her. Tate was the love of my life. She stood by me through thick and thin, embraced my flaws, married me, and we had three wonderful children together. The only thing on my mind is my mother, the sorrow my father felt during her death, and the hole it left inside of me. It's the Afton curse. Anything good in our lives either dies tragically or we end up destroying it ourselves.

I looked down at the trembling hands clutching mine. Oliver, my oldest and only son, is now 16. We named him after my grandfather, who helped Tate and me raise him when we were just teenagers. Five years later, we had the twins, Christi and Clare, named after my mother and youngest brother. They're 11 now.

Olie's voice was shallow and quiet, "What do we do now?"

"We go home," I replied.

"Without mom?" the girls asked in unison, reminding me of my father and his twin brother, Vincent.

"She has to rest."

"For how much longer, Dad?" Their deep green eyes, inherited from my mother, looked up at me.

I took a deep breath, "For as long as she needs. It might be forever."

Olie let go of my arm, his voice rising, "Stop beating around the fucking bush. She's dead, you idiots. Get that through your thick skulls. There's two of you, and neither of you can understand context clues."

I pinched the side of his arm and spoke through clenched teeth, "Stop being a little ass, this is not the time."

The twins went quiet. "Dad, what does forever mean? And what happens after death?" Clare asked, her voice trembling.

I sighed and knelt down in the freshly watered grass, "Forever is something we don't really understand. It's time that never stops, but also stays motionless. The same goes for death; it's a theory nobody wants to confirm. So, it's up to us to define what it means."

Oliver's eyes bore into me, but the girls turned their heads to the side, puzzled. "I don't get it," Christi admitted.

I stood back up and turned away from the gravestone, "You don't need to yet. Just remember what I said."

As we walked back to the car in silence, my mind wandered back to how Tate and I met. It was at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, of all places. I was working the night shift, trying to get by after all the chaos and horrors of my past. Tate was there with friends, laughing and enjoying the animatronic shows. She noticed me cleaning up and struck up a conversation. Her kindness and genuine interest in me, despite my rough exterior, drew me in. Over time, we fell in love, and she became my rock, helping me navigate the remnants of my dark past while building a brighter future together. She was strong, compassionate, and fiercely loyal—qualities that made her an incredible wife and mother.

Olie took the passenger seat, and the girls sat in their chosen spots from when they were five. Just as I started the car, there was a knock on my window.

I rolled it down, "What do you—"

"Mike!? Hi, I'm so sorry. I know this isn't the best time to meet again, but we heard the news and thought we should come."