The Fall of the Aftons

029: Michael Song

Michael barely had time to say, "Hello," before he was wrapped in a crushing hug by Noah. William chuckled when Mike choked ever so slightly. He was starting to have a difficult time breathing properly because of how strong Noah's hug was. The moment his friend let go of him, he was bombarded with questions: "Are you okay?" and "Why are your eyes all red?" and "Did something happen?" That wasn't the end of it, either--there were a lot more questions that he either couldn't hear or understand.

"I'm fine," he responded quietly after Noah was finally done asking questions. He politely clasped his hands behind his back, unsure what to do with them. "Nothing happened."

"Then why are your eyes all red?" Noah's voice cracked at the end. He looked so worried. Michael hated that. "Have you been crying? Why were you crying?"

"I wasn't--It doesn't--um," Michael stammered. He looked to William for help, but it wasn't like he could do anything in the first place. "I don't want to talk about it," he answered quietly when William didn't.

After a few moments of hesitation, Noah grabbed Michael's hand and dragged him out of the room. It reminded Michael of the day his brothers died. He expected his eyes to tear up at the thought, but he felt nothing. He was all burnt out.

All of a sudden, he fell to the floor, landing on his face. The pain from his faceplant made him groan.

"Oh, sorry! I'm so sorry, Mikey! I didn't think you'd fall. I'm sorry!" Noah exclaimed nervously. 

Michael groaned as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. Noah suddenly shrieked and jumped back before he rushed to Michael's side. He helped Michael off the floor. Mike looked at the floor, where a tiny puddle of blood and a sharp nail lay. He lifted his hand and touched his throbbing cheek, wincing when a small sting stabbed at him. He looked at his hand--his fingers were dripping with blood.

"Oh, no," Noah muttered. "M-Mister Afton!"

William walked into the room a few moments later. He gasped when he saw the cut on Michael's face. "What happened?" he asked worriedly, rushing over to Michael. He held Mike's chin in his hand as he inspected the wound.

"I fell on a nail," Michael said quietly, a little embarrassed by his clumsiness.

William chuckled, then led Michael to the bathroom. Noah trailed behind them. William hoisted Michael and sat him on the edge of the sink. Michael looked in the mirror behind him. He squealed at the sight of his face. His cheek was smeared with red and his nose was bleeding. 

William touched Michael's cheek with an antiseptic wipe and Mike screamed when there was a sharp, stinging pain. It was worse than when he had grazed his cheek earlier. He'd originally wanted to stay strong in front of his friend, but those hopes were dashed at that moment.

"I'm sorry, Michael. I know it hurts, but I have to clean the wound. If I don't, it might infected. We don't want that to happen," William told him when Michael screamed a second time and shoved his hand away.

"But it hurts!" Michael whined loudly. For once, he sounded like the three-year-old that he was. 

"D-Do you want to squeeze my hand, Mikey?" Noah asked quietly. His voice was so soft that Michael almost didn't hear him. "My sister always lets me do that when I get hurt. It might help you distract yourself." He sheepishly held out his hand.

Michael took Noah's extended hand but he didn't squeeze it very much. He was afraid of hurting his friend. The small touch was comforting. The comfort distracted him, and before he knew it, William was finished and the boys were off to play. For real, this time.