The Party -FNaF

Four Days Until the Party

Michael was at the TV.

Nothing all that interesting was on, just some Fredbear and Friends, but Michael decided to spend the morning watching it anyway.

"Michael."

Michael bit the inside of his mouth, turning his attention to his father. "Yes?" He noticed his father wasn't dressed to entertain today. He was dressed formally. Maybe because of the decorating crews?

"I'm going to be out all day today. It's your job to watch over Evan, do you understand? And I don't want a repeat of last night."

"Yes, sir," Michael murmured, glancing back at the TV.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, sir," Michael said at a conceivable volume. His father nodded, moving to the door. He seemed to pause, but apparently decided not to speak. In another fluid motion he was gone.

Michael let out a breath he'd been holding, looking back at the TV to escape his own bitter thoughts.

And yet, as soon as Michael's father left, Evan stepped gingerly into Michael's peripheral, and he noticed a blur of yellow in front of the little man's chest that Michael recognised as Fredbear.

Michael clenched his teeth. "You had to get me in trouble, didn't you?"

Evan grew afraid. "No, I—"

"My day was basically perfect, but you decide a stupid joke is enough to turn into some sort of tattletail? Huh?"

"I didn't mean to—"

"I don't care. Save it," Michael spat, getting up from the couch. "I'm going out with my friends today. Something you'll probably never get to experience. Don't break anything, or it'll be my fault. And if I get blamed, you'll eventually pay."

Evan nodded cautiously. "Okay."

Michael headed for his room to get into more fitting clothes for outside, and Evan quickly stepped out of his way, Fredbear dangling from his arms. The eyes were hollow, unwatching.

Good.

Michael grabbed items from his closet at random, tugging at the garments rather hard, enough that they made tearing noises.

When he was done, Michael caught Evan heading into his room. "Remember. I want nothing wrong here."

Evan visibly swallowed. "I know." The little boy shut the door soundlessly behind him. Michael had an itch to lock the door, but he agreed with his father. He didn't want a repeat of last night either.

And so, he stalked to the front door, looking left and right from the side window to make sure the coast was clear. Once he confirmed it was, he opened the door, taking a deep breath of the outside air. It was warm out, but not agonising. Not too surprising for early fall.

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"That's hilarious," Jackson told Michael. All four friends were back at the park, still ignoring the bench and its purpose. "The bastard was in there for five hours? Just...sitting in there?"

"Yeah," Michael answered. "Dunno what he was doing in there, but I didn't have to deal with it, so I could care less."

"Probably crying," Thomas said, smirking. "I know you only ever tell us highlights, but is that really all he does? Your brother just...cries?"