#william afton obliterating a child out of obsessive gay jealousy and then immediately using the opportunity to manipulate henry

[nineliabilityrisk]

you know i’m in love with you, right? HENRY

" you know i'm in love with you , right ? "

[[ oh dear god. okay. here we go (/pos) this was probably not the direction you were expecting it to go but i uh. my brain. it took it and ran ]]

-- [ asked by @trapton ] --

The words froze Henry in place, swirling emotions in his mind coming to a screeching halt before roaring back to life tenfold.

He and William had been arguing for the better part of an hour — over what, Henry couldn't tell you. Mainly because there was no real 'what'. Henry'd just been shut in his office working himself to death for the past sixteen hours because he didn't want to go back home to an empty house and William had found him sobbing at his desk and it had just escalated from there.

He didn't want to fight — didn't have the energy to, what with the lack of sleep and the pounding headache and the gaping hole in his chest — but William had just kept on pushing. Asking him why he was still there. Why he stank of alcohol and sweat and why he looked like he hadn't slept in a week. Threatening to forcefully remove him from the premises if he didn't go home willingly.

Henry had thought he would understand, at least a little, having lost a child of his own, but he just didn't seem to get why Henry was so reluctant to return home. Why he didn't want to step back into that big family house that used to be home to him and Charlie and her mother.

It was so quiet there, now. It threatened to drive him mad. There was a reason he wasn't exactly eager to go rushing back. Not when the photos of all three of them still decorated the walls, the mantle. Not when he still couldn't bear to face them long enough to take them down.

The part that William hadn't seemed to get about all of this was the isolation Henry faced. They'd both lost their children, yes, there was no denying that. He knew good and well that William had loved his youngest like an extension of his own body. But he hadn't been left alone to grieve. To wallow in his misery. When he wasn't with Henry at work, he had his wife and remaining kids to return home to. Even if they were in no state to provide comfort, they were still there. He had the sound of family life continuing on in the background to chase away some of the grief. The guilt.

Henry, on the other hand, was the single father of an only child. Charlie was all he had. No close relatives, siblings, cousins — Hell, his reclusivity meant he hadn't even had any friends to turn to besides William.

William Afton, the only person Henry had left in his life. The one who, unbeknownst to him, had orchestrated events for years to guide him to this conclusion. The sole reason he was so reluctant to leave the building — the knowledge that William was still here, somewhere, had been the slightest bit soothing, had been enough to keep Henry from diving too deep into that part of his mind that kept telling him it was his fault. That Charlie would still be alive if he had just been there. If he wasn't always so preoccupied with work. If he'd just spent more time with her, like she'd asked him to.

... The man who wouldn't stop fucking fussing over him. Okay, maybe Henry had snapped at him. So unlike him, he knew that, he knew he would regret every single word coming out of his mouth later, but he was tired and hurting and he'd had enough of William's prying words. Of his insistence upon taking care of him. He didn't want to be taken care of. He wanted to stay shut in his office and drink himself into a stupor and pass out on his desk and wake up the next day and do it all over again until maybe he forgot why everything hurt so much, and William wasn't letting him do that.

"Why do you care so much?" he'd snapped, voice as firm as it could possibly be despite his tears. "I'm a fucking wreck, William. I just lost my fucking kid. She's dead. Because I wasn't there to watch her. 'S my fucking fault. What– what do you care about how I cope with it? 'S not like you were any better." A low blow, he knew that, knew Will didn't deserve it, but he was too far gone to filter himself. "What stake could you possibly have in this? Why won't you just leave me alone?" Because that's all I ever am these days. Alone. Don't leave me alone, I don't want you to leave me alone — just don't make me leave. I can't leave. Can't go home. I need to be here. With you.

Words gone unsaid — at least he hoped they had. The look William gave him after his outburst, though... Was it pity? Concern? Judgement? He feared he'd said more than he should have, until–

"You know I'm in love with you, right?"

Henry's intoxicated brain couldn't decide if he wanted to kiss the man or punch him in the face. What the fuck was he supposed to do with that? Like, genuinely. Because, well, there was the answer to his question, but ... "That was the worst timing you've ever had for anything in the entire time I've known you. Don't even–" he held up a hand to silence William, the other coming to pinch at the bridge of his nose. Fuck, his head hurt too much for this– "no, no, hush. No. You've actually got to be kidding me. You're an asshole, William. You don't get to use that as — as leverage, or whatever. Not right now. Genuinely, what the fuck is wrong with you."

Despite his words ... that was something he'd been waiting to hear from William for God knows how long now. The shock had been enough to knock the fight out of him, and now he just felt... Lost. Why wasn't he listening to Will? If Will ... he couldn't even think it, but if he actually cared like that, seeing Henry like this must've been tearing him to shreds. Resisting, refusing his care... He wasn't only hurting himself. He hadn't even been considering the other side of this situation.

"I'm... Sorry. About all this," he eventually muttered, dipping his head. "And we'll... Talk about that. Later. When I'm not... Like this. But I — I still can't go home. You can't make me. I can't be alone right now, Will." It wasn't an outright request — he wasn't bold enough to make one, not when he wasn't even sure what he wanted in the first place — but he hoped William would pick up on it. He needed ... something. Needed Will to stay with him, no matter what. If it was here, or at home, or wherever the hell, he didn't care. He just didn't feel stable enough to let William out of his sight at the moment.