FNAF x Reader

Chapter Twenty Three

((This is the last authors note I will do.
As well as my last A/N, this one has been popping up recently as well. NO HATE COMMENTS ARE ALLOWED. Constructive criticism is alright, but hate comments towards specific characters or me is general will not be tolerated. I've been getting a lot of hate comments towards Mike in particular. They will all be deleted without question. If you have a problem with any of the characters, and the fact that Mangle, Chica, and Toy Chica have a crush on the main character (you), just keep in mind that things could change. Please do not post your opinions on the characters in the comments and keep in mind that the characters aren't even my own.Hate comments will NOT be tolerated, no matter who they're for. If you all keep complaining about this story, how it goes, begging and demanding for updates, problems you have with certain characters, and hate, I might just abandon this story altogether. So if you all want it to continue, I suggest you stop it. Thank you to all those who have been very supportive and have been polite, especially those who have left long and supportive comments. You are my favourite type of people.
That's all I have to say for now, and thank you for reading. This is also going to be short chapter, as I have a lot planned for the next one.))

...or so you thought.

"My son... My son..." you repeated in disbelief, holding his tiny body in your arms. The blood was everywhere, and it felt as if you were drowning in it. The red, the thick stickiness, the laughter. You tried to block it, tried to think that this hadn't happened. But deep down, you knew that your worst nightmare had come true.
You opened your eyes quickly as you felt the nightmare returning to your dreams. Your back ached from sitting in that hospital chair all night, next to the bed Alex was in. He had a breathing tube, as well as many other cables and odd devices hooked up to him. It made you want to cringe.
You grabbed one of his limp hands, careful not to move the IV placed in his wrist, and let your eyes travel to his.
His dark eyes were half-closed, staring into oblivion. He blinked, but it was very slow. He was awake.
When you tried to talk to him, you got no response. It was as if he was in a coma, yet awake at the same time, though that wasn't even possible. When you waved a hand in front of his face, the same response; absolutely nothing.
The doctor said that he may be a human vegetable, which means he is alive, but cannot respond to anything or even move. He can hear, see, feel, taste, and smell, and he understands what's going on around him, but he is unable to emit any emotions or move. The doctor said it's unlikely, but it explains why his eyes are open.
You bowed your head, staring at the cold linoleum flooring which the hospital had, and tried to hold back tears.
After Alex had nearly been killed by Mangle, quite a few people gathered after hearing screams, and a few called 911.

"No, you can't take him! Please, let me come with you!" You'd begged, holding the arm of the nearest emergency worker, begging them not to take Alex away from you.
"We have to. Let go, if you want him to live."
You'd been shocked and had let his arm go, watching solemnly as they quickly put Alex into the ambulance and drove off.
You turned around, desperate to find someone to spill your emotions to. All there was were many curious people, crowded around with phones in their hands.
You turned back around to face the exit, and saw Mike standing near the door. His eyes met yours briefly, before he turned away. He looked very sad, but his face hardened when he turned away. He quickly walked out the door.
You'd lost it, then. You knelt down on the floor in front of everyone, and, holding your face in your hands, balled your eyes out.
You'd lost both of the people you love.

And now, you sit near Alex in his hospital room, wondering why your life turned out like this, wondering why you deserved it.

You sighed and looked past your adopted son and out the window. There were lush green bushes, vibrant trees, and fluffy clouds outside. The grass was neatly trimmed.
The scenery reminded you of the animatronics for an unknown reason. Then something odd struck you.
I have no reason to live.
That's what you thought, but it certainly wasn't true.

Anger welled up inside of you as your mind went to the thought of Vincent, the cold-hearted sadistic psychopath. He'd killed Eli, which you knew, and you were pretty sure he'd killed Alex's biological mother as well. You couldn't prove anything of Eli, and how Vincent had killed him, and police most likely wouldn't believe you if you told them you'd spoken to a ghost. You haven't seen Eli around lately, either, to ask him about anything.
You sighed. What will I ever do with my life?

Mike took a deep breath as he continued walking at a quick pace down the cement sidewalk. He wanted to get away. Not from anything in particular, but just away.
He knew Alex wouldn't make it. Something in his heart told him so.
Mike already planned out what he was going to do.
He planned to go to your house, as he still has a key, get his belongings, and go back to his house. There, he will pack things necessary and temporarily move away, to where he didn't know yet. He wanted to get away from life for a while.
He sighed as his turquoise coloured eyes travelled up to the sky, where a brilliant blue was lied out, bursts of puffy white splayed out across it at random. I hope. I just hope.

You clenched your fists in anger, before remembering something. You still had Mike's phone number.
You quickly dug your cell phone out of the small messenger bag you'd recently gotten, and speed-dialled him.
One ring. Five rings. Seven rings. And a click, followed by a solemn, monotone voice. "Hello?"
"Mike," you started. You paused to think of what to say. "I'm sorry."
He sounded slightly confused, but a part of you knew it was fake. "For what?"
"...Everything. I hope you can just- just... Forgive me." You hung up the phone.
Sitting in silence for a few seconds, you realised he clearly wasn't going to call back. You were a bit relieved, yet still sad about Alex. You rested your elbows on your knees and looked at him sadly. "You'll be alright, I know you will. I believe in you. I love you," you spoke to him, feeling a tingling sensation behind your eyes before squeezing them shut, letting the silent tears fall from your cheeks.

One long beep, the rush of pounding feet, and your damp eyes, all signalled that you had lost both of the ones you cared for most.