One shots

Afton Siblings Oneshot 1: Grief Upon Grief And I'll Never Recover

So I promised my sister and her friend that I would write this for them. Remember, I don't know the lore, the characters, or the games past what I've read in other fanfics and what the two of them have told me. So this may not be accurate. There is mention of child abuse, so don't read if you don't like that. Also, this is a deep chapter. A focus on angst, as that's what I've decided literally describes the Afton family, and a intense focus on the grief Michael experiences. There is some language so if you don't like it, don't read it. I don't own the characters, blah, blah, blah. Anyway, enjoy!

Grief upon grief was the best way to describe Michael Afton's miserable eleven years of life.

He was six when his little brother, Evan, was born. Quickly, Michael saw that his baby brother became the favorite child now that there was another to chose from. His father, William, was a certified asshole and his mother, Clara was a absolute bitch.

One might even say they were abusive (they were), but Michael liked to say they were complicated. It was easier.

Michael became a scape goat, the one to blame for everything. Evan was the golden son.

Michael wanted to resent him for it, but it wasn't really the baby's fault. He knew that. So he didn't. Even more angrily, he loved the little brother that had come into his life unwanted. Just as much as he loved his parents, despite wanting to hate them.

He just couldn't.

And then little Elizabeth came into their lives. Michael was ten when she was born, Evan was four. Very quickly, William decided Lizzie was the favorite but Clara kept Evan as hers. That left a further unwanted Michael to be left to his own devices. After the tender age of six, Michael was left to grieve the love of his parents, taken from him by the baby siblings he couldn't help but love.

Even now, a year after losing what little love and attention his parents gave him, after becoming the child they abused (or in William's case, abused the most between his two sons) Michael couldn't help but grieve the love he had lost.

Grief upon grief.

.....................................

At thirteen years of age, Michael's mother was diagnosed with some form of cancer. His father threw himself into work, desperate to make the family restaurant he owned with his best friend, Henry Emily, a huge success for his wife. Clara loved nothing more than to see the genius of her husband's work.

She was dead within seven months, her body having rejected the treatment. The doctors had told them that they had caught the cancer too late, that by the time chemo had started, she had been well on her way to her deathbed.

Evan, at six, had grasped the concept of death, and had been inconsolable. Liz had only understood that her mother was not coming back and had wailed for several hours on end about wanting Clara. William had stared blankly at the wall for hours upon hours. He'd looked numb. Broken.

Michael didn't know what to feel. His mother was dead. Yes, she'd decided he was unwanted. Yes, she'd made Evan the favorite, paid attention to Liz as often as she could, and ignored Michael. But she was still his mother.

Suddenly, the world was swimming, blurring with tears and he broke down. He missed his mother.

In an odd act of fatherly love, William snapped out of his daze, stared at his children with tears in his eyes, and gathered his kids in his arms in a tight embrace.

"You have your mom's hair, Elizabeth." William had murmured, grasping a strand of her hair.

The red of her hair, more of a orange than a true red, was Clara's color, before the pretty strands had dulled and been shaved.