Dead Man Walking... Michael Afton x Reader

Prologue

They say sometimes your roots can haunt you. They can take over your life and drive you crazy. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree," they say, but what do you do when the entire tree itself was rotten? Are the apples better off on the ground, or do they end up with the same fate as their fathering tree? Rotten, rotten, rotten...

It was now 4 years after Y/N and her family moved into town. 4 entire years of Michael and Y/N dating. The couple was now in their early adulthood supporting themselves on their own, without help from their parents. Michael worked for his father's old company Afton Robotics, at a sister location to Freddy Fazbears, called Circus Baby's Pizza World. He figured getting away from Freddy's even in the most minuscule ways would help him forget about what happened. Even if that meant working with a different set of murderous animatronics his father made. Any change was good.

Michael and Y/N lived in an apartment near their old neighborhood, the idea of relocating completely was not something the couple wanted. They felt as if they made their lives here and they were content with that. Michael supported Y/N financially as a certified Fazbear Entertainment mechanic, every time Y/N mentions her getting a job to bring in extra money, he tells her that won't be necessary. Y/N would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy staying home, it gives her free time to do whatever she wants, maybe get a load of laundry done or read that book she had been meaning to read.

That's where she finds herself, sitting in front of her computer, home alone. Legs curled up in her computer chair as she scans the screen in front of her. The idle hum of the A/C system was humming throughout the house giving. Michael was destined to be home at any moment and the young girl knew she didn't have long to search. Y/N's eyes scanned her computer screen frantically, she wasn't just on there to browse. She was currently searching through a website that told any future court dates for local felons. 

She felt it in her gut, as much as she didn't want to acknowledge it. She was looking for someone specifically, she was looking for him. Michael couldn't see this, she couldn't let him see her doing this. Not that she was doing anything bad, but Michael gets different when William gets brought into the conversation, understandably of course.

He gets quiet, almost as if he lost the ability to speak at all. An imaginary and rather metaphorical stitching over his lips, hands shoved in pockets visibly making a fist. It's just best if nobody talks about William around him. It used to be only Y/N he knew what William had done to those children, or the constant abuse he inflicted on Michael, but now the whole world knew. 

Just then almost as if this was cruel fate, she heard the front door open, "Y/N? I'm home," Michael called from the front door, most likely taking off his shoes, it would buy Y/N a few moments to click off her search tab and act nonchalant. 

Shit.

The sound of Michael's voice has the instant effect of calming her, but not when she's about to get caught doing something she knows she shouldn't. However, she had noticed that his accent was less dominant over the years of living in America.  He had picked up more of an American accent, not only in the way his voice sounded but in his use of slang as well. 

"Y/N? I'm home, did you not hear me?" His voice sounded like he was approaching closer, Y/N snapped out of her train of thought and perked up. As much as she wanted to hide her searchings from Michael she wanted to be honest. She had heard on TV William might be getting a retrial which sparked this sudden curiosity. She decided to not hide it from Michael, she swallowed hard accepting her fate. "Oh! Yeah, sorry, I'm just looking for something."

Michael walks into their room and sees Y/N perched in the computer chair pushed in front of the wooden desk. She turns her head to look back at him, making him smile. "Whatcha lookin' for?" he looms over her shoulder. Upon looking, he finds a website all too familiar with a mugshot of a man he knew all too well.

The mugshot poured into Michael's soul, it was a conflicting feeling. Those eyes raised him, held him the day he was born, those eyes killed before, those eyes beat Michael senseless. It was his father, god damn it he doesn't even want to acknowledge that in itself.

Finally, Michael spoke "...Y/N are you-"
"Yes, Michael..." Y/N interrupted him gently, urgently trying to save his mood, "I'm looking for him,"
Michael sighs and looks down at the ground, having to tear his eyes away from the computer screen. It makes Michael physically sick to look into those eyes.

The sagging blue eyes

Y/N watches him for a moment before clicking on his case file and reading over it, despite the little voice in her head telling her not to look she did. The sound of Y/N typing at the keyboard, and the clicking of her mouse was slowly driving him nuts. "Look can you please drop it..?" he said coldly, louder than he meant to. Y/N flinched and looked back at him, realizing this was a bad idea.

"Y-Yeah, sorry..." she clicks off the website quickly and turns her body away from the computer. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that right in front of you, I just heard on TV that he might-"
"Don't apologize," Michael cuts in, taking a deep breath, "just forget about it."

Y/N nodded looking down at her lap. Silence floods over them, making them both equally uncomfortable. Clearing her throat Y/N finally looks up, meeting Michael's eyes. The same blue eyes she had always got lost in since she was a teenager.

"How was work, babe?" She asks gently, wanting to change the subject.
"God damn it was awful." He muttered, "Reporters, Journalists, all up in my face. All because today was the day the first child went missing. Their questions completely flabbergasted me..! They tried implying that I was anything like that old dirtbag...simply because I'm his son!" His voice got angrier the more he recalled the events of that day.

Y/N stood up from the computer chair and put her hand on his shoulder lovingly to calm him, she now felt the guilt weigh on her shoulders. She didn't mean to bring up a bad topic on the anniversary. The anniversary of the day Michael's life was ruined.
 "Oh Michael, I didn't know today was the anniversary..."
"Notice all the previous years they never questioned me, notice how they left me alone after the trial..! This all happened because I started to work under his brand...just because I work there doesn't mean...doesn't mean I'm him."

Y/N nodded her head understandingly, "I know Michael, I know...and you know that too. That's all that matters. We know you're nothing like him, they're just shitbags wanting to make a quick buck off your misfortune."
"They're going to do this every year now that I've started working there..."
"You don't know that, Michael..."

Michael looks into Y/N's eyes as if he was on the verge of tears. His blue eyes were silently pleading with her to make it stop. If only she could. She knew they interviewed him all the time, took photos of him like the paparazzi, and all you ever see on the front page of the newspaper was Michael. It's not like anything else interesting happened in this town, Y/N understood that to an extent, but Michael really never had a moment alone.

"I'm not my father Y/N..." he mumbles out, his voice cracking as he holds back his tears. He didn't mean to get this worked up but seeing Y/N staring at his mugshot made him feel so out of control. That always frustrated him as a teen, the feeling of not being in control. Now in his adulthood, he finds himself as that same angry teen from time to time, weeping in his room because his father never loved him.
"Michael...Michael sweetheart," Y/N whispers and cups his face. "I know that...you're absolutely nothing like him."