You Belong Here

Has My Progeny Caught Up To Me?

Title from You Belong Here by JT Music.

"DA-A-A-AD!" Evan half yelled half cried. The tears were forming in his eyes and starting to fall already.

Usually the boy wouldn't call on his dad, used to his dismissive nature in which he'd probably claim Evan was overreacting but still drag Michael to his office to berate him.

This time, Evan had enough.

"Shut up!" Michael hissed but it was too late.

Standing in the doorway, the ever-imposing figure of William Afton towered above the two children.

"What is it that is so important you had to bring me away from my work?" Irritability was clear in his tone of voice and Evan attempted to suppress a flinch.

"M-Michael keeps hitting me." Evan whined.

The sigh that escaped Williams lips didn't go unnoticed by the other boys.

"Shut up crybaby! You deserve it anyway. You're the type of person to put ketchup on pasta!" Michael shot, grinning slightly at his attempt at a joke.

The spontaneity in which the older boy made a joke when he was all thunder and anger moments ago, made the other two raise an eyebrow.

In a fit of anger, Evan replied. "You're the type of person to think you're funny."

"That's because I am." The sheer confidence in which he said it, sent Evan back to their old banter.

"I hate my life." William muttered, under his breath.

"Michael just come with me. Evan go to your room." William eventually conceded.

However hesitant Evan was to go to his room, it was evidently better than facing both Michael and his dad's wrath.

So the younger boy ran up the stairs to his room, not waiting to see what punishment was dealt on to Michael.

Although something he noticed was that he'd never see Michael until nearly hours after the incidents.

For a strange reason, Evan felt compelled to see his older brother. This was strange, as he never usually was the curious type, content to sticking to what he knew, opposite of Elizabeth.

But this nagging feeling in his mind never dissipated, instead growing, until Evan decided to satiate his metaphorical hunger for knowledge.

The loud bang of the basement door closing always echoed across the house so Evan had no problem hearing when his dad left the general proximity.

Bracing himself, Evan tiptoed towards the living room, thankful for the non-creaking stairs.

The sight that Evan saw would stay with the younger boy for years to come.

As suspected, Michael was alone, although he seemed to be on the floor. That didn't worry Evan much, he had a tenancy to sit on the floor, rather than the sofa, well not so much anymore, but he used to.

No, it was the deep, ugly sobs racked his body, the person no longer looking like his constant tormentor but a broken child, dealt the wrong cards in life that caught Evans attention.

Evan slowly stepped forward, his footsteps padded by his socks, and hesitated.

Taking a slow shuddery breath, unheard over the cries, Evan spoke.

"Mikey?" He asked, voice quieter than he intended. He couldn't help it, he's never seen his brother cry, not when Mum left, nor when Lizzie died, not when Dad started drinking and smoking, never.