Lethean (William Afton X Reader)

彡[ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 55: ᴍᴇɴᴅ]彡

+++++ William's POV +++++

I plan on going back to the pizzeria later in the nighttime to interrogate Charlotte in regard to the missing vial. Not one person knew about that clandestine container, and the key to that was tweaked by none other than me. Its lock system is unlike any other, not even a lockpick or a hairpin can open it.

"Dad, you're spacing out again," Michael weakly elbowed me on the arm. His left hand held onto the handles of the metal pushcart full of groceries. "You've been doing that a lot. Spacing out, I mean."

"Ignore it, nothing's wrong," I furrowed my brows as I signaled for him to go to another aisle.

"Yeah... No, don't hide it, dad," the boy deadpanned. "I'm sure she's fine. (Y/N)'s a tough cookie."

"So far, you're the first person to correctly think I worry about the darling," a soft chuckle left my lips.

"Well, it's not really obvious, and I know you're upset with mom, like a lot."

"I won't deny that," I tiredly sighed. "Your mother's annoyingly persistent."

Once every item on our list was inside the cart, we proceeded to the cashier counter and paid for everything. We didn't need to walk all the way back to the house since I drove here, so the two of us arranged the bags in the trunk and closed the hood with a thud. Every single bag was heavy, and Michael was massaging his reddened hand as he silently huffed under his breath.

"Stay here," I told him, then went straight to a small convenience store across the street. Not even 5 minutes later, I returned with two treats on hand and gave one to Michael.

".... For me?!" he exclaimed.

"Who else am I passing it to?" I raised a brow, "If you don't want it-Then more for me."

He quickly frowned and snatched the dessert off my hands, marveling at the perfect pink swirls of his strawberry cone full of sprinkles. Both of us leaned back on the closed trunk, resting under a somewhat clear late afternoon sky. "This is weird, you buying me ice cream, with my favorite flavor too. Did you do something bad again?"

"Why would- *sigh* I understand where you're coming from," I responded. "I'm well aware that I haven't been the best father to you. My attention between you and your sister is easily divided, someone could tell right away who's the favorite child-"

"I know that, dad. You don't have to remind me," he pouted.

"You didn't let me finish," I cleared my throat. "The point I'm trying to cross is I'm trying to become a better father. It was very improper of me to take out my anger on you in the past, even if you hadn't done anything wrong. Your hatred towards me is understandable."

"It's not that I hate you," Michael said. "I'm just... scared, and my entire life I felt that way. I'm scared you'd kill me in my sleep. I'm scared you'd do the same to me, just like how you murdered those children. I never felt safe in my own home."

"It's all because of me, correct?"

Michael went silent, incapable to reply, and bit the top of the swirl instead. Every time I look at Michael, I see a small and vulnerable me. That innocence, that constant bubbling fear. I always ignored his fear because it gave me that fear factor. It meant he wouldn't do anything stupid. But now I recognize how badly this impacted him.

"Dad, we both know you weren't like this before," he spoke. "Is there any hope at all that everything can go back to the way it was? When we all got along and went outside of the city during weekends with Liz and Mom?"

"You're wishing for the impossible, Michael," my tone sounded harsh. "I'm not the man I was before. I'm a murderer, and I always will be. There's nothing you could do to change that."