cloudrumble23

[cloudrumble23]

Puppet girl wanted her to get to know the other ghosts in the pizzeria. To help her "adjust." To prevent corruption from taking over her soul.

Well fine. Cassidy could do that, even feeling the rage boiling under her skin as she considered the thought of anything other than plotting her revenge on their killer. Did the puppet even care? Probably not.

Still, Cassidy could handle it. She could make friends with that quiet kid who never left the suit. Puppet girl hadn't even had a chance to have a conversation with him yet since she was too busy babysitting everybody else to prevent them from corrupting.

The golden suit was crammed far back in the corner anyway. Nobody really seemed to acknowledge it, and Cassidy knew that the puppet girl only knew about it because she'd put Cassidy's soul there. Unintentional companionship, Cassidy thought to herself, squatting down in front of the suit to examine the eyes.

Sometimes there was a faint pinprick of light when she did this. Other times, there wasn't hardly anything to spot. Today was a bad day. She squinted intently, trying to make out the spot of light that she knew was there constantly, but there was no sign.

Resigning herself to actually talking to this kid was maybe not a good idea. He was hard enough to communicate with on a good day, and today was definitely not one of those. Still, Cassidy dove straight into the suit, knowing she'd have to go deep to find the quiet kid who shared the suit with her.

"Are you down here?" Cassidy called, looking around the eerily red space. "Hello?"

She heard a faint sob in response and hurried over to it, seeing him curled up in a ball on the weirdly colored grass.

"Okay," Cassidy sighed, pulling him upright. "What's the deal?"

The boy had his face buried in his hands still, something that continually frustrated Cassidy. They'd encountered each other briefly before, and he never tended to speak. She knew there was the lingering mark of death on his face, a flag of red spilling down an otherwise monochrome appearance.

In life, Cassidy might've even said he was cute, but she didn't have time for such things anymore.

Her fingers looped around his wrists as she adjusted herself to sit in front of him. "Look, I'm not typically the pushy type, but you're the person I know best out of anybody here, and I'm supposed to be making friends so that I don't get corrupted or whatever. Which means you gotta deal with me."

He didn't respond, even as she managed to peel his hands away from his face, revealing thick, oily tears that spilled all the way down his face and coated his hands. Corruption, Cassidy thought suddenly, a chill running through her.

"Okay..." Cassidy exhaled slowly as he peered at her through his eyelashes, briefly distracted from his emotional turmoil.

She swiped at the substance, hoping it was easy to remove, but she ended up smearing it across his face more. "Umm, oops?"

He only blinked at her, seemingly unbothered by the mess.

"Look, I gotta be honest here. This is way out of my range of knowing what I'm doing. And uh... puppet girl says corruption is bad." Cassidy gestured at their hands, coated in corrupted something or other. "And this stuff looks like corruption."

"Oh," the boy answered softly. He glanced at his hands and then at hers. "I'm sorry."

"What? No, you don't need to apologize. We just need to-" Cassidy took a deep breath, something she wished was still helpful. "Okay, why were you crying?"

The boy's mouth thinned, trembling slightly.

"Never mind," Cassidy said quickly. "Could you tell me your name?"

"I... I guess..." he replied, shifting uncomfortably. "I'm... Evan..."

"Okay, Evan." Cassidy tried to smile at him. "I'm Cassidy. I possess Golden Freddy."

"That's not his name," Evan said immediately, his mouth turning down in a frown. Something flickered in his eyes, a memory of some kind. "His name is Fredbear."

"Uh huh." Cassidy didn't know what to make of that. She really did need to talk to the others, didn't she? Clearly, there were many things she didn't know. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that. I just kinda gave him a nickname, I guess."

"It's alright." Evan clasped his hands together in his lap. "That's a lot of blood."

"Oh, yeah..." Cassidy looked down at her torso, still unimpressed with the fact that the bloodstains had carried through with her death. "It's a symptom of death, I guess."

"Do I... Do I have one of those?" Evan asked, his mouth creasing in worry. "Is it on my face?" His voice seemed to get higher with every realization.

"I-" Cassidy didn't know how to respond as he crumbled into tears again. "Yes? I mean, we all have those. It's okay, don't cry."

Her reassurance didn't seem to get through to him.

"Hey," Cassidy pulled him into an awkward hug, making him tumble half into her lap. "It's not a big deal. Even puppet girl has some bloody marks on her face too. And her neck."

Evan hiccuped. "Really?"

"Yeah, it's something we all deal with. I mean, it still sucks because that's so invasive to just know how other people died, but-"

"At least we're all in it together?" Evan asked, the tears spilling from his eyes no longer dark and inky.

"Yeah." Cassidy tried to smile at him. "We've still all got some stuff we can keep private though, like what we were like when we were alive, but as far as dying and our killer go, we got stuff in common."

"Our killer?" Evan seemed horrified. "He killed other people? Besides me?"

"Yeah? He killed all of us," Cassidy's mouth twitched. "Did you not assume that?"

"I thought it was an accident. He said he was sorry and that it was an accident," Evan started muttering to himself, hyperventilating.

"Okay, I think you need to calm down a little bit-"

"Calm down? We're dead because of him!" Evan's eyes flashed, and the hysteria in his voice increasing as he spoke. "He lied to me!"

The black inky substance was leaking from his eyes again.

"Evan, we all had that feeling of hopelessness that you're feeling right now, and I know it hurts, but please. You'll be corrupted if you don't calm down!" Cassidy felt pressure rising behind her own eyes as she spoke. The threat seemed much more likely now that she was witnessing it happen.

Evan shuddered in her arms as she tried yet again to wipe away the tears. "I'm so bad at this," she said to herself as she continued to make it worse.

"Join the club," Evan whispered, gripping his elbows with what would've been bruising force in life. "I can't ever seem to get anything right, either."

"It looks like I made a finger painting on your face," Cassidy admitted, wrinkling her nose.

Evan huffed out a small laugh. "Probably an improvement to how I looked before."

"Nah, I think you're cute, but I made it worse." Cassidy scoffed.

Evan froze. "You... what?"

"I made it worse?" Cassidy answered with a questioning tone. "Like, I made you cry a bunch, and then I smeared it all over."

"Oh, right. Yeah, that makes sense." Evan shook himself out of something.

"Did you always used to cry this much?" Cassidy asked, suddenly curious. She'd never heard him talk so much, and he was going to probably never do this again.

"Always," Evan said regretfully. "My family hated it. Mikey and Lizzie said I was the crybaby of the family, and they were right. It was so stupid. Mikey told me to 'man up' all the time and be a better older brother to Lizzie, but I just..."

"Your brother sounds like a jerk," Cassidy said.

"He's worse than a jerk, since he killed all of us," Evan huffed, peering up at Cassidy's face.

"Wait, what?" Cassidy frowned, suddenly confused. "Jeez, how long ago did you die?"

"Like... four years ago?" Evan answered, sitting up.

"But..." Cassidy was even more confused. "You seem too young to have died so recently. Like, your brother is a full-grown adult."

"No he isn't." Evan's face wrinkled up. "He was only fourteen when I died, so he wouldn't be older than eighteen right now."

"That makes no sense." Cassidy replied, shaking her head. "I died two years ago, and he killed me while wearing that stupid yellow bunny suit."

"Rabbit suit?" Evan echoed. "No, that wouldn't be Mikey. Mikey hated Spring Bonnie. Father kept trying to convince him to have more interest in the animatronics, but Mikey only cared about Foxy."

"Then..." Cassidy's throat tightened. "We weren't killed by the same person. We couldn't have been, not if you were killed by your brother."

"You were killed by my father," Evan told her, his face twisted in a different kind of sorrow.

He's trying to tell me without making me cry, Cassidy realized. How could anyone end his life like that? Evan was too sweet for his own good, and clearly some people hadn't appreciated him the way they should have.

"How do you know that?"

"He never let anyone else wear that suit, Cassidy. Not unless something changed after I died."

"Oh..." Cassidy didn't know how to feel about that. "So, your brother killed you, huh?"

"It was an accident." Evan stood up. "I don't..."

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Cassidy said quickly. "I was just curious."

Cassidy stood up and glanced around a bit. "Do you ever wonder why everything down here is red?"

"Sometimes," Evan shrugged. "I don't see anything in any other color anyway."

"You... don't?"

"No."

"Have you ever left the suit?" Cassidy asked. "I only ever see you down here."

"I didn't know I could leave." Evan blinked at her.

"Come with me." Cassidy said suddenly. "You have actually been living under a rock, for real. Come see where we are."

"Oh. Okay..." Evan reluctantly followed Cassidy as she made her way out of the suit and back into the real world.

"So, this is Parts and Service." Cassidy gestured at the grungy room filled with broken animatronics.

"Who is this?" Evan asked softly, having walked away from Fredbear to trace a line down Foxy's snout.

"That's Foxy," Cassidy answered, coming to stand by his side. "Fritz doesn't tend to hang out around the suit much, not during the day anyway."

"Wow," Evan said, his voice wavering. "They actually made them all into animatronics?"

"Yeah, there's Freddy, and Foxy, and Bonnie, and Chica. They're a bit rusted out, and now they're just used for parts, but..." Cassidy shrugged. "I mean, the kids go around and have fun during the day, pretending to still be alive."

"You say that like you don't," Evan turned to her, clear tears running down his face. Does he ever stop crying? Cassidy wondered.

"I don't tend to join in. I'm a bit too aggressive for the things they like to do."

"What do you like to do, then?" Evan asked, his hand still resting gently on Foxy's head.

"I don't know. I just don't feel like playing anymore. I don't feel like pretending to be alive when I know we were all murdered, you know?"

"I guess..." Evan blinked. "What if you could help kids who were still alive?"

"Help how?"

"I don't know. Cheer them up when they're down or something, I guess. Like you did with me."

"I wouldn't say I cheered you up," Cassidy scoffed. "You're still crying."

"These are good tears," Evan replied.

"Well, I don't think that would work, in any case. Nobody can see or hear us."

"They can't?" Evan sounded disappointed. "Well, that's..."

"They can see the suits moving, at least," Cassidy offered. "It's just that you can't really communicate, and I've only ever used the suits to scare the security guards."

Evan stroked the fake fur on Foxy's head, not seeming to really be listening anymore. His shoulders drooped and the tears were darkening again.

"Hey, what's up?" Cassidy asked, finding herself reaching for Evan's face yet again to clear up the corrupted tears.

"It's nothing."

"Clearly that's not true," Cassidy pointed out, holding her inky hand in front of Evan's face. "Tell me what's going on."

"I want to see my family again. I guess I was just hoping that I could tell my brother that I forgive him and miss him and-" Evan cut himself off with another sob. "It's stupid."

"It's not stupid," Cassidy replied stubbornly. "I bet we can find a way."

"What if he doesn't even come here, Cassidy? What if he-"

"Foxy's his favorite, you said, right? Well, if that's true, we need to find a way to get him back in commission so your brother comes back. And then we can try to find a way to get communication between you two again."

"Why are you helping me?" Evan asked. He looked so silly with his face all squished like this, but Cassidy couldn't help it.

"Because I'd like to do something good for once," Cassidy whispered. "And I think it'd be nice to see you smile."

"Oh," Evan answered as Cassidy stretched his cheeks up to force his mouth into a makeshift smile. "Hey, stop it!"

Cassidy laughed. "Make me."

Evan swatted at her hand, a short huff of laughter escaping his mouth. "I can't!"

"Then you're stuck! Oh no, how terrible it is to smile again!" Cassidy grinned in his face, finally relenting in time to see him naturally smiling.

He giggled. "You're ridiculous, Cassidy."

And you're adorable, Cassidy thought fondly, surprised by the sudden protective urge that washed over her. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I dunno. Depends on if you're ticklish or not," Evan replied, the silver of his eyes gleaming menacingly as he dug his fingers into his sides.

Cassidy gasped, surprised that the same jolt of nerves she'd always felt when she was alive was still possible as a ghost. "Hey!" She laughed, even as she crumpled forward, tucked into Evan's shirt as she continued to struggle.

"You want to know the best part about this?" Evan asked, grinning down at her. "I don't even have to stop."

He was right, Cassidy realized. She was laughing so hard she couldn't draw breath, but since they were dead, it didn't make a difference. It's crazy how much joy there still is, even after dying, she thought, still struggling to squirm free.

Maybe the puppet girl had been right after all. Cassidy just needed to make some friends.

Or a friend, she thought looking up at the laughing boy who shared the suit with her.

There was still joy after death.

Especially with Evan around.

Thank you to @pixlokita for this adorable piece of fanart for this, by the way!

[cloudrumble23]

Michael blinked up at the ceiling of his room, vision swimming slightly. He sat up and his head immediately protested. Was he sick? Michael pressed his hand to his forehead. It was warm. He couldn’t tell if it was warmer than usual though.

Still, he went to his parents’ room to see if his father could tell for sure. “Father?” Michael asked, surprised to find that his voice was raspy.

“Michael?” William turned the lamp on. “Are you feeling alright?”

“No. I can’t tell if I’m sick or not.”

“Come here.” William yawned. “Let’s see.”

A few minutes later, William was on the phone with the school, and then with Henry. “I can’t go in today, Hen. Michael’s sick.”

An irritated voice came from the other end of the phone, leaving William to scowl at the wall. “Well, I can’t control when my kids get sick. Would you prefer I sent him off to school?” William sighed. “I’m terribly sorry, but I just can’t- Henry.”

Hanging up, William muttered something to himself before turning back to Michael. “Let’s get you back to bed Mikey.”

Michael felt his mouth twitch slightly at that. William rarely used the nickname. He did, however, startle slightly when his father lifted him off the ground. “Something wrong?” William asked as Michael pulled his left arm free to grab his father’s shirt.

“I’m too old to carry,” Michael complained.

“You’re not too old,” William replied, chuckling slightly. “You’re twelve.”

“That’s too old. Most kids aren’t carried by their parents after-“

“I’m not most parents, Mike.” William gently deposited him on the bed. “Do you want me to stay in here while you try to get some sleep? Or should I go at least try to get some work done before your uncle comes to scold me?”

Michael smiled gingerly at the joke. “I think we can handle Uncle Henry.”

“True. He’s a big teddy bear, isn’t he?”

Michael giggled at that one. “He is Fredbear after all.”

“Really?” William feigned shock. “I had no idea! Do you think I could get an autograph?”

“I don’t know… But I bet Spring Bonnie gets all the autographs he wants.”

“Does he really? Maybe I could snag one off Spring Bonnie. He seems more than willing to hand out autographs when people ask.”

“I’m sure Uncle Henry would be more than willing to give you an autograph, Father,” Michael said, crawling under his blanket. “He can never say no to you.”

“Unless we’re talking over the phone.” William sighed. “Do you need anything? Or just my company.”

“I don’t need anything right now. But I’d like it if you stayed here.” Michael reached out with his right arm.

William took his son’s wrist as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Of course.”

[cloudrumble23]

It was a nice afternoon. One of those days where the temptation to spend the whole day outside instead of working on important chores was nearly unbearable. Jeremy's other friends had already gone home, leaving him alone with Mike on the grass in the front yard.

Mike was picking at blades of grass, not really focused on Jeremy anymore. The conversation had died when their other friends went home, and neither of them particularly felt like starting it again. So neither one of them did.

Jeremy laid back in the grass, feeling the sharp blades tickling his arms. "Hey, Mike. Aren't you hot in that jacket?"

"Hmm?" Mike glanced over at him for a moment, turning his head away again as his face reddened.

"Aren't you hot? You look like you're overheating, buddy."

"Oh, no. I'm... I'm fine." Mike shifted uncomfortably in the grass. "I'd rather the heat anyway."

Right. Mike ran extremely cold for some reason. He always wore that jacket in the summer. In other months, he layered up even more. Jeremy smiled to himself at the one time he and his friends convinced Mike to take the jacket off for once.

His face reddened as he recalled how toned Mike's arms were. He wondered just how strong Mike was. He didn't act strong, not really. Sure, he was loud and obnoxious sometimes, but so was Jeremy. And he didn't have a problem running during P.E., but weight room days were awful, as Jeremy's muscles always hated him after those first few days.

"Jeremy! Come in and get the laundry done! You can sleep on the lawn after you finish your chores!"

Jeremy sat up. "Yes, Mom!" He glanced at Mike. "I suppose this is-"

"I can stick around a while longer."

"Oh." Jeremy was a bit surprised, but Mike knew his responsibilities better than Jeremy did, and if he said he could stay, then that was Mike's business.

"Sorry. My, uh, room is a bit of a mess." Jeremy scrambled to collect his dirty laundry from the floor as quick as possible, intensely aware of the fact that Mike was standing behind him in the hallway. Mike, the neat freak, who'd flip out if someone wore their shoes into the house, who had lost his mind when his little brother accidentally dropped a full bowl of cereal on the floor.

That Mike was currently able to see all of Jeremy's messiness, in the worst possible way. Is he even going to want to be friends with me anymore? Jeremy wondered. This was it, wasn't it? Mike was going to ditch him, and Jeremy's stupid crush would never go anywhere.

"It's fine, dude." Jeremy couldn't even detect any irritation or discomfort in his voice at all, and he wasn't sure if Mike was being sincere or not.

"I wasn't prepared for company, otherwise I would have-"

"Jeremy. I said it's not a big deal." Was Mike amused? That was his teasing voice. "I'm not really surprised anyway. You kind of are a mess."

"I-" Jeremy opened his mouth to protest a moment before realizing that Mike was just joking with him. "Well, I guess so, yeah." He laughed awkwardly. "I gotta get this in the washing machine now."

Mike nodded. He wasn't in the way or anything, so Jeremy honestly didn't know why he'd felt the need to say anything. They just kind of stood there for a moment, before Mike glanced around him back into the room. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?"

Mike pointed, and when Jeremy turned to look, Mike tickled him. "Hey! Hands off!" Jeremy's attempts to push Mike away from him were unsuccessful, as Mike's strength gave him a distinct advantage. "I gotta..." Jeremy gasped a breath between words. "Mike, the laundry..."

"Fine, fine." Mike stopped tickling him and stepped back. Jeremy regretted making him step back, missing his closeness immediately.

He went to pick up the laundry basket again, and Mike whistled. "You know, it doesn't look as bad in here as you think it does."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Just clean up the trash and make your bed and it's basically clean. Cleaner than the basement at my house anyway."

"There's a room in your house that's messy? I'm shocked, Michael. Shocked, I tell you." Jeremy nudged him playfully as he started toward the cramped laundry room.

"Ha ha," Mike rolled his eyes as he closed the door behind them. "You're hilarious, Jer."

"I know I am. I am the funniest person on the planet," Jeremy declared, dumping his clothes in the machine and setting the temperature. "Could you grab the soap? It's on that shelf there."

"Yeah, sure." Mike handed him the soap, going quiet for a moment. Jeremy continued setting the machine before closing the lid. "You look so good doing laundry..."

Jeremy froze. Surely Mike hadn't meant that in a... no, he must've meant it platonically. Neat freak that he was, Mike probably was admiring his ability to clean or something. Still, his face burned at the thought, and he replied, somewhat confused, "Thanks?"

Mike's eyes widened significantly as his own face flared red. Oh. So he had meant it that way. And from the look of it, he had not meant to say that out loud at all.

Jeremy cleared his throat, a goofy smile spread across his face. "Neat freak."

"...Huh?" Mike was still trapped in an internal panic over what he'd said, hands coming up to cover his mouth.

"I said," Jeremy swallowed, his throat feeling dry, "you're such a neat freak, Mike. Complimenting my laundry skills like that." Why did I say that?

Mike's eyebrows scrunched, showing his confusion. "Jeremy, what are you talking about?"

He should address it, shouldn't he? It was clear Mike was expecting him to address it properly. "Do..." He couldn't do this. "Mike, do you..." He swallowed again. "Do you like me?"

"Like you? Jeremy, you're my best friend."

Not what I was going for, Jeremy thought to himself as he laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, I know that. But I mean, do you like me? Like, would you date me if you had to?"

Mike trembled, stumbling against the wall. "I... if I had to? Of course, Jer."

I shouldn't have phrased it like that. Jeremy scolded himself. "Cool..." Jeremy shrugged, feeling out of place and very uncomfortable with the awkwardness in the room. "I'd date you without having to," he suddenly blurted out.

Mike blinked. Once. Then twice. And suddenly, he was shooting forward, pulling at the front of Jeremy's shirt as he kissed him. Mike was kissing him. Jeremy eagerly kissed him back, hoping this wasn't just his imagination.

"So... you do like me," Jeremy whispered when they finally stopped. "And I look good when I'm doing laundry, huh?"

Mike's mouth twitched, but he still elbowed Jeremy. "Oh, shut up."

"You can't stand the sight of me cleaning, can you? It's just so attractive to you. Why, Mike, I bet if you had your way, you'd just watch me-"

Mike kissed him again to shut him up. "Fine, you win, Jeremy! Just shut up for once."

Jeremy grinned. "I think I can handle that. For you."

Based on this post by @hearts4ggy (sorry to tag, but you deserve credit for this!)

[cloudrumble23]

It had been a long week. Children had been coming and going in the diner for quite some time now, fascinated by the singing golden rabbit and bear. Thankfully, as was the common theme, parents were starting to call their children back to them, preparing to go home. The employees were all relieved, as Henry himself was.

Sure, the kids were wonderful, but they were a lot. One worker reported spending over an hour scrapping crayon from one of the walls, while another complained about pizza sauce getting into one of the vents. At the very least, the security guards never had a bad word to say about the customers. Or rather, their problems began after closing time when they started their official rounds and discovered mischievous children hiding in various places around the diner.

Usually, it was the same group of older children, waiting around to startle Mike. Henry wondered if it was some kind of game of theirs, but that thought always vanished from his mind when Michael sought out the security guard, usually Phil, who would frown slightly and go off to find them.

William Afton was a quiet man. Henry would go so far as to say he was nervous around people. Too often Henry had sought him out only to find the poor man panicking over something someone had said about things out on the diner floor, or recovering from an encounter with a particularly angry parent.

Today, William was not in his office. Henry frowned. That never seemed to be a good sign. When things got really bad, Will was near impossible to find.

At Henry's side, Michael tucked at his pant-leg impatiently. "Home?"

"Not yet, Michael. We need to find your father, and as such, he must be the one to take you home. Not me." Henry had spent too much time caring for William and Clara's son.

Clara's stage-performances took up much of the evening, meaning Michael couldn't go home with her. William spent far too much time messing with the animatronics, positive there was some unseen danger just waiting to harm the children who came to see them perform. And that left Henry in charge of a child who didn't even belong to him.

"Mr. Emily?" One of the employees on staff interrupted his musings. "Sorry to bother you, but you have a phone call."

"A phone call," Henry repeated. "Very well then. Could you accompany Michael while I take that call?"

"Certainly." Marsha, Henry remembered finally. She nodded. "I'll take him to find his father."

"Thank you," Henry replied. He hurried to the kitchen, where a part-time worker was holding the phone uncomfortably.

"This is Henry Emily speaking."

His wife was on the line, and she started speaking very quickly. She was pregnant with a child, and she needed him home immediately. Henry wouldn't be able to describe the conversation later, but as he raced home, one though repeated in his mind.

Henry was about to be a father.

[cloudrumble23]

Evan woke up gasping, his shirt plastered to his back and his hair stuck to his face. He rubbed the tears from his eyes quickly to focus on the clock. 5:48 a.m. An ominous feeling spread through his entire body, but he took comfort in reminding himself that nothing bad could happen while Fredbear was watching over him.

The fabric of his plushie was worn and stuffing was sticking out between some of his joints, but Evan couldn’t bear to part with him long enough for proper repairs to be done. Father always said it would take a few days to fix the plushie if he wanted it done properly, and Evan would never accept a poor repair job, so instead of giving up the bear for repairs, he just kept Fredbear as he slowly deteriorated more and more each day.

He didn’t feel too bad about it though; Michael had done the exact same thing to his Foxy plushie, and he’d had his toy much less time than Evan had. Evan swapped out the destroyed plushie with his own, but Michael hadn’t seemed to notice, even as the original plushie’s head fell off somewhere, making it impossible to repair the poor fox.

The vest was coming a bit loose, but Evan ignored that. Fredbear didn’t need the vest anyway. It wasn’t his identity any more than Foxy’s hat was, and besides, no one remembered that Foxy even normally came with a hat. He squeezed the small bear, humming softly to himself as he waited for 6 a.m. to arrive.

Evan walked cautiously down the hallway to the kitchen, his guard still up from his unpleasant night’s rest.

“You stink,” Elizabeth complained. She was already in the kitchen eating her cereal while Michael was pouring his own bowl.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Welcome to reality Lizzie. People sweat and have body odor.”

“You never stink in the morning,” she retorted as Evan set Fredbear on the counter before climbing on it to reach the cabinet.

“I put on deodorant. Ev, get off the counter. I can get that for you.” Michael grabbed another bowl from the cabinet and filled it with cereal as well. “I’ll get Evan some when I go to the store, okay?”

“You better,” Elizabeth grumbled into her cereal.

“Plus, it’ll be fine. He’s probably going to shower before we leave for school anyway.”

Elizabeth scowled at that. “But then I won’t have time to do my hair.”

“Then I’ll do it.” Michael rolled his eyes again. “You talk like you have a terrible life, Liz.”

“Maybe I do!” Elizabeth snapped, shoveling more cereal into her mouth.

“Good morning to you too,” Mother said, yawning as she walked into the kitchen. “Are we having cereal for breakfast today?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Michael said, grabbing Evan around the waist to drag him from his spot on the counter. “I was planning to go to the grocery store today to pick up a few things.”

“No nonsensical things we don’t need now, Michael. You know how your father hates that sort of thing.”

“Of course,” Michael’s voice sounded stiff, but he maintained his politeness. “Do you want some cereal as well?”

“That’d be lovely, darling.” She sat down beside Elizabeth. “You children are so wonderful.”

Evan felt himself finally starting to calm down. Today was a good day. Mother and Michael were both in a good mood, a rare occurrence, if he was being honest with himself. Elizabeth’s mood was always sour, depending on who she decided to blame for her problems, but she was manageable. He just hoped they didn’t see his Father before school. That was the one thing that could ruin the peaceful moods of his mother and brother before they left for school.

“Do you want to go to the store with me, Evan?” Michael said abruptly after they’d all finished eating. “So you know where to look for deodorant next time?”

“I guess so,” Evan replied quietly, hoping that was the right answer.

It must’ve been, because Michael smiled faintly and ruffled his hair. His expression faltered, and he made a face though. Michael wiped his hand on his pants. “You really need to shower before we leave though, Little Man. Lizzie was right, no offense. You are kind of gross this morning.”

Evan shrugged. He didn’t want to explain the nightmares, assuming it would put Michael in a sour mood. He didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“Fredbear’s not looking too good lately either,” Michael mused. “Want me to stitch him up for you?”

“Huh?” Evan blinked up at his brother. “Fredbear’s fine.”

“His stuffing’s going everywhere-“

“He doesn’t need anything. He’s fine!” Evan scooped the little bear into his arms, and Michael raised his hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine. If you change your mind, let me know. It would only take, like, 30 minutes, tops.”

Evan didn’t reply to that. Instead, he changed the subject. “I’m going to go shower.”

“Okay.” Michael almost sounded disappointed. But that didn’t make sense. Normally he was happy to be rid of him. Especially so near his birthday, when his friends would be coming over all the time.

On the walk to school, Elizabeth wouldn’t stop gushing about how wonderful her hair was. She practically begged Michael to make it a more regular occurrence, but Michael just shrugged. Evan could see the smile on his face though. He knew it was only a matter of time before Elizabeth got her way.

“Mike!” one of Michael’s friends tried to call him over, but Michael ignored him.

“Come on, you two gotta get to class,” he said softly, putting his hand on Evan’s shoulder to direct him away from the other kid. With a startle of surprise, Evan saw a faint frown on Michael’s face. Maybe he’d had some kind of fight with his friends? Evan couldn’t ask about it, just in case.

“You can’t ignore us forever!” one of the boys shouted angrily while Michael guided Evan in the direction of the store after school.

“Just keep walking,” Michael muttered. He seemed very tense, and Evan wasn’t sure he could do anything to reassure his brother. He just did as Michael asked, hurrying along so they could get out of range.

A few short minutes later, they were walking into the store. Evan felt odd. He’d never been to the store without his parents before. Normally, he and Elizabeth only came when Mother was looking for something specific, or when Michael was sick, and Father was going to the store instead. Being here with Michael was… different.

“They don’t get it,” Michael whispered, seeming to forget who he was talking to.

Evan blinked at him, but Michael didn’t elaborate until after they’d filled the basket with necessary groceries and Evan’s deodorant.

“Everyone expects so much from me,” he mused. “My friends seem to think I have to give them every second of my attention. Mother thinks I have to be responsible all the time. Father…” Michael shook his head. “Even Uncle Henry assumes things. It’s awful, Ev.”

“Maybe it’s just because they like you so much,” Evan said quietly, hoping not to upset him.

“Nah. They expect me to disappoint them. Aside from my friends, anyway. It’s just so stupid. All this shit I have to put up with.” Michael froze. “I mean- Just forget I said that.”

Evan giggled involuntarily, surprising them both. “You’re not seriously apologizing for saying ‘shit,’ are you?” Evan asked. “Kids say that all the time at school.”

“Yeah, but if Mother or Father catches you saying that-“

“Who’s going to tell them?” Evan blinked innocently up at Michael.

He groaned. “I forgot how insufferable you are.”

“Only when I can be.” Evan grinned, feeling secure in his behavior. “Let’s get home. I have homework to do.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Michael shook his head, but the faint smile Evan had seen that morning returned.

“Want to watch T.V. with me?” Michael said when he walked into the kitchen.

Evan guessed he was finished with his own homework, considering his confidence in the way he sat beside Evan at the counter.

“What are we watching?” Evan replied, continuing his notes while Fredbear observed them both.

“The Immortal and the Restless,” Michael said with confidence. “And, it’s not even scary, so you won’t wet yourself when we watch.”

Evan shook his head disparagingly. “I got scared watching a movie with you one time-“

“It gave you nightmares, Ev! I got in so much trouble for that, you know.”

“Then why offer to watch something with me again?” Evan asked before realizing what he was implying.

“I-“ Michael sputtered. “C’mon, man.”

Evan put his pencil down and stared at his brother. He wasn’t getting angry, which meant Evan could actually ask serious questions without fearing consequences for it. “You spend all your time making fun of me, and teasing me, and scaring me, and making me miserable. Why should I trust that you actually want to watch something with me?”

Evan expected a lot of potential reactions to his comments. Yelling, maybe. What he didn’t expect was for Michael to crumple in on himself. “I… Look, it’s not…” Michael swallowed harshly. “I can’t say anything to justify my past actions. You have every reason to be weary. But maybe I’ve changed, Ev. I want to spend time with you. I’m tired of pretending all the time, and I-“

“You’re not kidding,” Evan said softly. “Were you exaggerating this morning, then? When you said it would only take 30 minutes to fix Fredbear?”

“What? No. It’s a bunch of little fixes. You just gotta have the right thread. And if we hurry,” Michael glanced at the clock nervously, “I know Father has thread in his office.”

“You…” Evan blinked. “You’d do that for me?”

“I gotta prove my point somehow, don’t I?” Michael jumped up from his seat. “I’ll be right back.”

Evan turned back to his homework, no longer able to fully comprehend what was happening here. Was Michael genuine? Was he really trying to be a better brother? Evan honestly had no idea, but the best way to find out was to wait until the summer, when Michael was always really nasty usually. For now, though, he’d settle for help repairing Fredbear.

Michael returned, out of breath and a little bit shaky. “We only have a few hours before Father is supposed to be home.”

“Lucky you said it wouldn’t take very long,” Evan said softly, expecting a contradiction.

“Still frightening to think about,” Michael replied. “Okay, I got this.” He threaded the needle and looked at Evan expectantly. Reluctantly, Evan handed his brother the battered gold bear.

Michael set him up gently on the kitchen counter, tucking the stuffing back where it belonged as he started his row of stitching. Evan knew the seams had been originally on the inside of Fredbear, but Michael had tried explaining that he couldn’t fix Fredbear like that. He’d rolled his eyes actually, saying that doing it that way would take a sewing machine and a trip to the workshop, something Michael was not willing to do without permission.

So Evan had to accept that the repairs would be visible, but at least Fredbear would be ready to fight off another night of terrors.

Evan didn’t mean to fall asleep against Michael’s shoulder while watching the show. In his defense, he didn’t have a clue what was going on, and Michael was too busy watching to explain it to him. Evan ended up giving up on the show to study his brother’s face. It surprised him how energetic Michael seemed while watching the screen, but then, Evan guessed this was one of his rare moments where there weren’t expectations dragging him down.

He stirred as Michael carried him upstairs. Confused, Evan blinked sleepily at his brother. “What-“

“Shhh, go back to sleep,” Michael said softly. “I just want to make sure you’re not going to have nightmares.”

Evan always had nightmares. That was the general idea of everything going on. He hated the idea of disappointing Michael, especially after how nice the day had been, but he couldn’t control his dreams. Not now and certainly not ever. He couldn’t even remember a time when he didn’t have nightmares every night. But he had a feeling Michael wouldn’t be swayed in this, so he just nodded against his brother’s chest and closed his eyes again.

Evan didn’t have any nightmares that night. Or at least, they weren’t nightmares he remembered. He woke up that morning with Michael curled protectively around him, like Michael was afraid of something happening. Evan wasn’t particularly worried about that, though.

For the first time in years, he felt content and safe.