Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s only for one night.

The near sickening sweet tone of your coworker lingered in your mind as the simple sentence played again and again. One night. That’s all it was. It was still Freddy’s. It was still the same job, in a way. But still, your discomfort caused you to cling tightly to the familiar warmth of the jacket you had thrown on. It wasn’t that you needed it, the summer nights still held that warmth that lingered even as the sky turned to pitch, but more that you needed the familiarity in the discomfort of the unknown.

Beneath said jacket peaked a flash of yellow and purple. A gaudy combination you didn’t mind looking at from afar but one that looked less than flattering on your form. Especially when combined with an ill fitting skirt. Yes, the borrowed items fit perfectly on their true owner but on you? It rode up in all the wrong ways and made the entire get up feel less official and more like a less than tasteful Halloween costume. You tried not to think about it as your shoes brought you closer to the well lit building. 

It’s only for one night.

The parking lot was packed though that was no surprise. The weekend was a big draw for families with kids of all ages. Even Sunday nights brought in the crowds at Freddy Fazbear’s though from what you hear they tended to thin out rather quickly after the dinner hour. What with parents having to head to work in the morning and children being forced to complete homework they had neglected all week for classes they had the very next day. 

“It’s an easy shift. Well, once dinner time ends. After that the most you’ll have to worry about is teens getting a touch too handsy with each other in the booths.”

It wasn’t like you hadn’t waitressed before. You did once. For a while too. Once you, regretfully, finished college and were free to roam the world with your new seemingly endless pool of debt you found yourself picking up whatever job you possibly could. It was a classic tale. Someone hard on their luck resorting to bussing tables all while dreaming of a better life. You remember the slower hours and looking out the window longingly as you dreamed of a place to call home. Of how your mind would roam to better places as you cleaned up the third plate that hour a child had spilled in a rather loud public fit. Of how you would smile and spout apologies that you didn’t truly mean as you were berated for the fries not having the perfect amount of salt by particularly picky customers. It wasn’t something you can say you missed. 

You preferred the familiar pings and thunks of the arcade. Of your home away from home. That’s where you belonged in Freddy’s. Not reeking of fast food grease as lonely fathers not so subtly gawked at you or a coworker’s ass. But today someone else was stationed in your usual spot, at least, you think. Sundays were usually your day off and you weren’t the type to swing by to work unless you absolutely had to. Not that you hated Freddy’s. The pizza was cheap and you knew all too well that you could easily spend a day playing the machines and cleaning out your own bosses of prizes. You just enjoyed sleep and the joyful rest that came with just fucking off after a long work week. 

Plus, it wasn’t like you could if you wanted to as of late. 

Sure, while you liked to think of yourself as a good person that took Jessica’s shift out of the goodness of your own heart you knew yourself better than that. You’d be having some cheap TV dinner right now in your crappy apartment if it wasn’t for the prospect of extra hours when you needed them the most. And with your car temporarily out of commission you needed those hours more than ever.

You tried not to think of the shop bill or the fact that your hair would unfortunately smell like pizza tomorrow morning as you rounded the back of Freddy’s. The flickering light over the backdoor greeted you as it typically did. Moths crashing against the light with the smallest of plinks as a cook or two from the kitchen took their smoke break near the dumpsters. The scent made your nose wrinkle up and though they tried to stop you for some polite conversation you couldn’t risk letting the smell sink into your borrowed clothes. Instead, you gave them a quick ‘hi’ before pushing your way through the door the owners never bothered to oil up. It let out a particularly unnerving squeak as you made your way in and you moved through the back hall with practiced precision. 

The staff room was relatively empty with only a couple people putting away their things to join you on your shift. You never really used the staff lockers. Never had a reason to before. Mr. Emily always let you keep your things in the storage room behind the arcade counter. A locked room that only you and a few other staff members had the key to. But tonight it would be too awkward to barge in on whoever was in your normal position behind the counter so you settled on borrowing Jessica’s for tonight.

She never locked the thing, no one really did, and you had to fuss with the door a little to get it to open. Smiling faces greeted you the moment you opened it up. Magnets pinned picture upon picture up to the walls of the black surface. Everyone from celebrities to guys you think she may have dated were stuck up as some strange motivational collage of handsome either denoting the mind of a serial killer or that of a boy crazy college student. You were pretty sure she was the latter but then again you hadn’t seen her locker up to this point. 

It was actually why you were here. A date, she said. He’s the one, she said. You didn’t bring up that he was the 5th guy this year she had happily proclaimed those very statements about. Though, unlike the others around here, you didn’t really judge her for it. She was happy. She was the kind of girl that was happy to bounce from guy to guy in search of Mr. Right without it leaving a single pinch of heartbreak in that heart of hers.

It was a talent you wished you possessed.

Your love life was less than stellar but it wasn’t like you were actively trying. 

You shoved your jacket into her locker before slamming it shut hoping the force would fix whatever mechanism caused it to stick before. Now with bare arms and legs you couldn’t help but shiver. The uniform wasn’t bad by any means. Well, minus the color. You just weren’t used to it. It felt so foreign. Almost felt like a kid playing dress up with mom’s things. The feeling only amplified by how the shirt seemed to tent out abound your body in areas you weren’t nearly as well endowed. But it was too late to worry about it and you doubted that Henry had an extra shirt laying about for you to use for just one night. 

You pushed your nerves to the side and clocked in before slowly making your way to the front. The quiet of the staff hall was soothing almost. Peaceful. But with the push of the doors in front of you as someone wheeled in a bucket and mop you could hear the sudden rush. The chatter of adults paired with the screams and laughter of children. It caused a nervous smile to come to your face as you stepped out onto the main hall.

Though it had hardly turned 5:00, the place was already filled with families eagerly awaiting their pizza, eyes glued to the flashing lights of the stage as it inched closer and closer to showtime. You took the chance to head over to the hostess station to grab an extra pad of paper and a pencil, greeting the staff member there. The woman, Sylvia, turned to you with a bright smile though one tainted with confusion.

“What’d ya do to make Henry swap ya to the floor?” Her implacable accented voice teased with a smile only amplified by her brightly painted red lips. Wrinkles formed at the corners of her eyes as she smiled and the movement of her head caused her box dyed curls to bounce and sway. 

“Nothing. Just subbing in for Jess.” Before you could ask where the notepads were her perfectly manicured nails held one out for you which you thankfully took.

“She give you the details ‘bout tonight?” She asked with a pop of her hip as those green eyes of hers bore into your soul. 

You weren’t sure if she was judging you or Jessica at the moment but you couldn’t help but feel that it was there causing you to somewhat instantly regret your choices. Had Jessica signed you up for more than you initially planned? Was she subbing for someone else’s sift maybe and pawned it off on you? You tried not to worry too much about it.

“Kinda. Said it’s busy for the first few hours then dies down. No biggie. I’ve done lunch rushes near a high school before. I can do dinner rush.”

“Uh huh. She tell you when the shows are?” You rolled my eyes at that one.

“Didn’t need to. I work here, remember? I can literally see the stage from the arcade.”

“She tell you Henry isn’t in on Sundays?”

That, she did not. You simply shook your head in response.

“Just in case anything bad happens, he’ll be in his office all night. Someone’s acting weird to you? Tell Mr. Afton and he’ll decide if security has to get involved or not.”

You nodded your head. A part of you wanted to ask just how often Mr. Afton needed to be summoned like some Eldritch entity from the back rooms but before you could even open your mouth a family came through the doors. Sylvia launched into a perfectly practiced pitch.

“Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria where Fantasy and Fun come to life!”

You had to politely smile in order to not cringe at the tagline. It was cheesier when you heard it come from an actual person. On a sign or on merchandise was one thing but to hear it cheerily recited like some sort of mantra made it sound oh so cheesy. You were lost in thoughts of just which of your bosses could have come up with it, which you were honestly leaning towards Henry, when Sylvia called your name. From the look on her face you could tell it wasn’t the first time that she said it as a mixture of annoyance and concern was clear in her eyes. You righted your posture and let a near perfect plastic smile take its place on your lips.

“If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your seats just this way.” You chirped in a voice at least a few octaves above your natural tone. 

It was something that was less intentional and more accidental. Your voice tended to rise in pitch whenever you had some official business to attend to or a positive impression to leave. You suppose it made you sound more friendly but all you could think about was if they could tell that your voice was laced with false cheer. 

Your stride was quick and fluid as you headed to an open booth for the family. You would have asked if they preferred a table but you knew full well that around this time the tables would be crowded and not a single one would be open. It was inching closer and closer to show time and though all the seats in the house could see the singing animatronics, the main floor where the tables were freed from the wall had the best view of the lot. Though that was mainly due to the fact that children loved how easy it was to run off to rush the stage. It was a miracle no child had managed to get up onto the stage itself. Normally a parent would push forward in panic if their child got a touch too excited though you supposed that had something to do with the history of this place. 

Of the two deaths that hung in the back of everyone’s minds when those animatronics were around.

It happened long before you arrived. Three years if your gossip mongering colleagues had gotten the dates right. Mr. Afton’s own child at that and what was worse was the death of Mr. Emily’s so soon after. You wondered just how anyone could go about keeping a place like this open, let alone keep around animatronics that were responsible for that very death. Well... one of the deaths. The other was still unsolved to this day. That fact made the curious part of your mind form elaborate theories as to who could have done that to a child like Charlotte Emily. Not that you knew her at all but you knew her father well enough.

He was your direct boss after all. 

Your shoes stopped at the edge of the booth as you politely waited for the full family to take their seats. No babies or toddlers so no need to ask if they needed a high chair though you wondered if the parents would have appreciated it anyway. Their children practically pushed them into the booth just so the three of them could eagerly sit on the outside. Their excited eyes turned towards the stage in anticipation and the bouncing feet of who you assume to be the youngest made their intentions to bolt the moment that curtain rose oh so clear. You couldn’t help but smile at that. Despite the rumors and history of this place, you liked them too.

The fox specifically but he tended to have problems more often than not. 

You tried to avoid the kicking feet of the child as you leaned forward with menus. The parents giving you a thankful though distracted nod before listing off the basic drink order for you to fill. It was like that for most of the busy portion of the night. A cheery greeting and escorting a family to a table where the children bounced up and down excitedly just waiting for their chance to break free as their parents fell somewhere on the scale of regret to laid back contentment being in the bustling restaurant. Drinks would get delivered followed by food. The amount of pizza that you delivered almost guaranteed that you would smell faintly of grease and pepperonis even into the late morning hours. The family would eat, maybe play some arcade games or have a kid or two jump in the ball pit, before taking off and leaving you with whatever mess they left behind. Not that you minded cleaning per say. You only did mind when chunks of half eaten food littered the ground but as long as nothing came close to showing bite marks your gag reflex did its best to behave.

The only break in the rush, of the routine you rather quickly fell into, came at the half hour mark. A waitress would happily hop over to the large button on the wall that you were relatively sure didn’t actually do anything to push it with a flare. The younger children would giggle and hop out of their seats in a rush to sit as close to the stage as they could as the curtains rolled open and the stage lights came alive. A beautiful flurry of color danced across the revealed animatronics as they all slowly came to life. First was Freddy, his ears twitching before his eyes opened and his body straightened. Bonnie was next, hands clasping and unclasping around the mock guitar held in his fingers before his own eyes would open and drift to the now talking bear. Freddy would introduce the gang, get the kids warmed up with one of the sets of lines he was programmed to say with a goofy voice you were pretty sure was Henry’s before he would turn to Chica and startle her awake. Something that always brought a laugh from the kids new to the show. The animatronics would banter a little before launching into song. Some of the songs they knew were simple children’s songs, Happy Birthday and the like, while others were popular songs. You guessed those were meant to keep the adults and older kids entertained but the children adored them all the same. A mixture of amazed looks and enthusiastic, though rather uncoordinated, dancing could be seen near the stage and it was enough to bring a smile to your face.

Well, it was the first time you saw it.

You had seen it many times before and while you had never been this close to a performance you almost had every word memorized. The show would last around 15 minutes before the curtains would close once again and the banter of the band would die down to be replaced by the standard light music being played at all times mixing with the ping of arcade machines in the distance. The kids would disperse with few lingering behind. Those that did, stubbornly stood near the stage and whined to their parents that they wanted more or they wanted to see the crew up close but that would be quickly forgotten the moment the kid remembered the pizza they had forgotten or when the lights of a nearby machine caught their eye. After all, the band would be back soon enough. 

After the dinner rush, things began to calm down. 

Children filtered out with their parents as they told enthusiastic tales of what they saw and did despite the fact the parents were more than well aware and as you cleaned the last of your tables you decided to take the chance to dip out for a break. Though you weren’t one for smoking, you liked to head out the back and just let the night air clear your mind. You would lean against the wall where the scent of at least five different cigarette brands mixed together in a heavy cloud that lingered even long after the cause had vanished. Today you were hoping that no one would be already out there. The scent of pizza grease and the wailing of toddlers had left you with the start of a headache and as you pressed the back door open you couldn’t help but let out a grateful sigh. 

A sigh cut far too short as you gave a cough. 

Someone beat you to it. 

Your lungs filled with smoke that made the back of your throat itch and your eyes water. It was strong and the taste lingered in the back of your throat. You never understood the appeal. Even just tasting the smoke second hand made you want to down at least a dozen mints to chase it away. Perhaps it was better first hand when you were the one doing it, you thought. You’d just have to power through it. Though the smoke made your throat itch the cool night air helped wash away the scent of fries and spilled milkshake. The general scent of fast food.

The door closed behind you with a clunk and you let your eyes go to the source of the smoke. To your surprise it was a single person. Normally, your coworkers came out in packs to gossip or simply just pass the time as well as they could in a place like this before going back to the hustle of the main floor. You were the only exception, or so you thought. When you normally took a break you meant it. No coworkers, no people, just you. Which usually meant you’d spend your break in the prize supply closet. A luxury you, once again, didn’t have today.

You cocked your head a little at the man who seemed either determined to ignore or that truly didn’t care you were there. His uniform was that almost cartoonish purple that instantly told you which department he worked in. Security. The shining gold of the badge on his chest all but confirmed it. You think you recognized him but you couldn’t say for sure. You never really needed security and it was almost like they were their own little bubble away from the common rabble. So though you don’t doubt that you’ve crossed paths you just couldn’t remember his name for the life of you.

It was only when his face finally turned to you and those almost dazzling blue eyes of his squinted into an almost glare that you pieced it together.

Afton.

Not the big one. Jr. The spitting image of his father, if not a little more rough around the edges. Tanned skin, brighter blue eyes, hair that was closer to Freddy’s fur than the almost raven like sheen of his father’s.

“Can I help you?” His voice was somewhere between sarcastic and genuinely tired that made you wonder if you had somehow offended him.

“What? No, just taking a break.” 

You realized that perhaps you were staring too much and that this conversation was awkward enough as it is and so you turned your body before letting it hit the cold brick of the building facade. The wall was cold and refreshing causing you to briefly close your eyes and lean back to enjoy it if not just for a moment. You could hear Michael mutter something though what you couldn’t say before he went back to smoking. It was a strange mix of such an awkward silence and the relief of a moment of quiet. You didn’t mind it at all. Especially with the scent of the summer night and the near by woods mingling with the smoke of the man next to you. Maybe it wasn’t all that bad after all.

Your eyes opened after a moment to stare at the woods before you. You wondered just what kind of animals lurked further in. Were there bears? Deer? Monsters that only lurk in the dark? What sort of wildlife did Utah even have? You entertained yourself imagining the mystery lurking in the shadows especially now that the sun had set and the sky had begun to darken more and more by the minute. 

“You new?”

You had nearly forgotten he was there. Too lost in your own day dreams of creatures and animals alike for your own good. Your eyes tore away from the woods to the man next to you. God were all of them freakishly tall? You remember his father was too. Well, you think. You rarely saw the older Afton. The recluse that he was. You hear he was charming once. Welcoming and warm. Once.

“No, just on a different shift.” Your voice was friendly enough. “Subbing in for Jess.” 

You had no doubt he knew who she was. She was the kind of girl that made sure you knew her name and you knew it well. Friend to all and a welcoming shoulder to cry on if you should ever need it. And her kindness tended to grow if you fit in one of two boxes. Either you were her type or you had something about you that reminded her of a puppy dog locked out in the rain. You were the latter. He was probably the former.

“Never seen you waitressing before.” Right. Security. He was probably acutely aware of every member of the wait staff with having to watch those cameras all day. You briefly wondered if those things had audio and if he and the others were subjected to the torturous screams of children and the same old songs from the band on the daily.

“I don’t. Prize counter mainly. Arcade machine maintenance if I have time.” 

You debated mentally where you wanted this conversation to go. You didn’t really know a lot of people at work. You were still so new to Hurricane that you could count the number of friendly acquaintances on one hand and as for actual friends there were none to be found. What’s the harm in trying now? You gave him your name with a smile, your body moving and shifting to face him. Your shoulder still leaning on the wall as your attention shifted to him though he gave you no similar courtesy. He stayed there, his knees partly bent as he let his back prop him up against the wall where he stood.

“Michael.” His response was short and there was something else there behind it. Almost like a sort of hesitation. Did you actually offend him earlier? Did he not want to even tell you his name? But then maybe he thought he’d be treated differently. After all, he was one of the owner’s sons. 

“Nice you meet you. Officially, I mean. I’m sure we’ve crossed paths before but never really spoke.” 

Hell, he might have even been one of the guys Henry sent over to make sure no one gave you a hard time when you were emptying the arcade machines of quarters or refilling any of the change machines with coins. You never really did notice who was sent. Too focused on getting it done and not fucking up anything involving money. Call it paranoia but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but fully focus on anything involving cash. This job might not be the best out there but it was still yours. There was no way in hell you would fuck it up by half-assing an important task. 

“Maybe.” Was all he said in response. It gave you the distinct impression he wasn’t exactly one for talk but then again you weren’t either. Well, at least you weren’t with strangers. 

“So you’re friends with Jess ?” The way he said her name made an eyebrow shoot up in curiosity. It was like the word itself made him disgusted and he barely tried to hide it. 

“Kinda.” You didn’t want to say no. You knew Jess’ answer was yes and you’d hate for it to get back to her that you were anything but. Even if his tone made it clear he might not be her number one fan. 

He simply huffed in response as his face almost contorted into something close to disdain. A reaction you were not expecting at all. What did that mean? Did Jess do something to get under his skin? Though in what little time you had been talking to him you didn’t think that was very hard to do.

“You like her then?” 

“What do you mean?”

“A slut.” His voice was like venom. Like he hated you despite knowing nothing about you.

His words caused your eyebrows to raise and your eyes to widen slightly. Excuse me but what? Where the fuck did that come from? You were sure you at least looked offended even if you couldn’t muster any words. Your mouth opened as if to respond but you shut it with a confused quiver. How the fuck does one even respond to that? Do you acknowledge how inappropriate the question is? Do you let him get away with it because he’s the boss’ son? Is this a joke? A fucked up inside joke between her and this weirdo? 

“Excuse me?” Was all you managed though the outrage in it was clear.

“You heard me. You a slut like Jessica? You swap shifts with her to fuck my dad like she does?”

Whoa whoa whoa. A lot of information to process in a short amount of time. Was Jessica seriously sleeping with Mr. Afton? Like the Mr. Afton. Their boss. Their drunken recluse of a boss that stays in his office all day? Was he being serious? A look of confusion mixed with outrage was painted across your face even as you struggled to process whatever the fuck Michael had just thrown at you.

“Jesus, can’t even fucking respond to a simple question-” 

“What- What the fuck.” You interrupted him. The K sounding particularly harsh in your disbelief. “No. No, I’m not a slut. What the fuck is wrong with you? Who the fuck asks that kind of shit.”

“Someone who knows what kind of shit your friend gets up to. She generously let you swap so you can beg him for a raise then? No one takes a closing shift with that bastard of their own free will and I’ve seen what her and her other ‘friends’ get up to with him. So which are you? Beggar or banger?”

You could feel a headache starting to form though you wondered if it was just from how hard you were clenching your teeth together at his remarks.What the fuck kind of first meeting was this?

“Neither. He didn’t fucking hire me. Yeah, I work here but I work under Henry Emily, not your father. And before you fucking ask, no I don’t fuck Henry either.” You looked at him with such disbelief and genuine offense that your face contorted into a look of disgust and near hate. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You asked for a second time. 

His glare lingered on you though it seemed to soften after a moment though if only by just a fraction. Maybe he believed you or maybe he was just tired of your raised voice bothering him on his smoke break. He went silent, not pushing the matter or asking a second time but his eyes didn’t move from you almost like an unsaid accusation. You know you should storm off. Hell, even slapping him seemed like a good if not dramatic option but you opted for the choice you felt neither of you was expecting. 

You stayed.

“Are you serious? Is Jessica really sleeping with your dad?”

“Why do you care?” He blew smoke in your direction, an action which made your nose crinkle up a little in response.

“You just accused me of doing the same. I feel like I’m entitled to that at least.”

“You aren’t entitled to shit.” He responded simply as he took another drag of his cigarette. Jesus, he was like talking to a brick wall

“Jessica has a boyfriend.” Not that that was any form of defense. You knew she went through them like socks and often left them just as filled with holes, usually where their hearts tended to be.

“Does she now?” His voice had a tinge of mock interest in it as if he came to the same conclusion that you did. It was no defense at all. If anything it just worsened the accusation. She had a boyfriend and Mr. Afton had a wife.

“Jesus, that’s fucked up.” Your words were stupid, you knew that much, but despite the lack of real value to them you saw his lips twitch ever so slightly. A small ghost of a smile that barely lasted.

“No shit.” 

You gave a little sigh at his response. While he came off more than a little strong and very much was being the asshole in this situation you kinda saw where he was coming from. In his perspective you were a potential close friend of the woman that was threatening his home life and ruining his father’s marriage. Not that it was just the fault of Jessica, mind you, but William lacked any friends to pass harsh judgment upon for even knowing him. Well, that you knew of besides Henry Emily and you doubted that anyone could hate Henry. Michael was likely just raging about this all and taking it out on whoever he could that was an easy target. Not the fairest thing out there but could you say you wouldn’t do the same if your personal life was slowly crumbling in front of you?

“I’m sorry. For what it’s worth.” You offered though you doubt it would do much good. You weren’t the one that needed to apologize. “I didn’t know she was that kinda girl. I mean, she’s less than particular with her men but I had no idea it extended to that.”

Michael sighed as he tossed the dying cigarette to the ground to stamp out under his foot. 

“Yeah, well, neither did I.” The bitterness was still in his voice but it was no longer directed at you or so it seemed. Instead, you knew far too well who it was aimed at and you honestly were starting to agree with him on that. 

A silence fell over the two of you again before Michael sighed once more and turned to face you. Fuck his eyes were blue. Even in the dim light of the staff door you could only describe them as almost a cartoonish blue. One you didn’t think people could naturally have. 

“Listen, I’m sorry for being a dick. I’m just-” He trailed off and made a small gesture with his hand. Frustrated . It was easy enough to see and even more easy to understand just how much it would weigh on his soul.

“Yeah, I get it. And yeah, you’re a bit of a dick but you get a pass on this one, I guess.” You tried to lace your words with the smallest bit of humor. A touch to at least lighten the mood a little. It had become stifling in the short span of a few minutes and that awkwardness only helped to make your jaw ache even more. 

Your attempts succeeded at least a little bit as that ghost of a smile reappeared on his lips before he shook his head. His hair bounced with the movement, messed curls accenting the movement. “So generous.”

“Yeah, I’m practically a saint sometimes.” 

That made him chuckle a little. The conversation had gone from heavy accusations to near normal chatter so quickly it almost gave you whiplash but you let it flow however it could. Not just because you knew he might need to get it out but also because you honestly hadn’t talked to many people around here. 

Though he had put out his cigarette he didn’t seem like he would be moving from that spot. He just stood there almost like he wanted to say more but didn’t entirely know where to start. Though, to be fair to him you didn’t really know where to go from here either but you couldn’t deny that the tension between you dispersed even just slightly.

“Where’s the accent from, by the way?” You let your chin gesture towards him slightly in a nod. Another set of stupidly put together words but at least it was a question to take his mind to somewhere that wasn’t Jessica. You knew he sounded vaguely foreign but you didn’t want to just assume. England you’d guess. Just like his father. Just like the full family. 

“UK. I’d ask the same but, let me guess, Utah? Most of the staff’s born and raised around here. Doubt you’re different.”

You scoffed at that.

“Nevada. Don’t lump me in with them.” You sounded offended but your smile made it clear it was nothing more than a joke. “I’m here because of my own fuck ups and because I am a fuck up. Not because I was born in the back end of nowhere. That being said, I was born in the middle of nowhere. Bigger than Hurricane though. We’re talkin’ a two high school kinda town.”

Michael whistled. His lips turned into a grin that you just knew got him in trouble more often than not. “Damn. Impressive. Your town let you have two whole high schools? Fuck man. We’re lucky to have three different fast food places.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. All tension was gone between the two of you and you were just left in the silence of the night. He wasn’t too terrible. Not just personality wise but when he wasn’t being an asshole accusing you of sleeping around he was kinda cute. I mean, he was cute before too but looks tend to get obscured by trash personalities. 

“So, you a high schooler?” He tried to pry more information out of you or at least keep the conversation going. The question made you smile. You were young but not that young.

“Nope. College drop out. You?” 

“A college dropout working at a pizza place? Damn, that’s a new one.” More smiles as he didn’t even try to hide his joking tone. You couldn’t help but give out a mock huff of offense which made him chuckle ever so slightly. “But I’m a senior in High School.”

“They haven’t kicked you out yet?” You felt the joke was fair game given the accusations and jokes coming from him so far and his silent chuckle seemed to back up that assumption. His bright smile was almost odd to you. Such a stark contrast to his standoffish behavior from before. So genuinely bright. It would be cute if, again, he hadn’t started the night with a string of insults.

“Tried. But now that I’m so close to graduation, might as well stay in it.”

“Wow, ambitious.” Another mocking joke said with a smile that only made him shake his head again.

“Shut up. Fuck, where was Henry hiding you this whole time? Everyone else treats me like shit or runs away scared when I talk to them because of my cunt of a father. You actually want to have a conversation with me. An insulting one but a conversation.”

It was your turn to laugh.

“Oh, I’m the insulting one? Must I remind you of the fact that you called me a slut.”

“I didn’t call you a slut, I accused you of being a slut. Totally different. Thought a college drop out would know that.”

“Shut up.” You threw his words back at him. 

That smile never left his lips even as he pushed himself up from the wall and walked closer to you. If it was anyone else you suppose this is the part that you usually would exchange a handshake or something like that but with Michael he simply came a little closer to you. Fuck, he was tall. That little tidbit kept floating into your head. You weren’t short by any means. Average if anything. He had to be at least a foot taller. That fact made you a little bitter. Why the fuck were all the high schoolers here taller than your full grown adult self? It just wasn’t fair. 

“Sorry again. I mean it. But seriously I would try not to associate with Jess too much. She’s all smiles and fun on the outside but she’s nothing but trouble deep down.” Those words felt ironic given who they came from. Despite knowing Michael all of, what, fifteen minutes you could tell that he himself was his own brand of trouble. Though there was something about him, maybe it was how quickly his tone changed, that made you think that prickly exterior was nothing but an armor to protect him from others. But then maybe that was the idealist in you that watched one too many trashy teen dramas on TV. 

“I hardly associate with her.” You shrug before looking down at your watch. You tended to wear one ever since you started working here. The clocks in the place had a tendency of getting thrown out of wack. Shit . You were five minutes past when your break should have ended. If you were lucky, no one will have noticed. If not, you were going to get one hell of a talking to when you got back in. You always hated those. They made you feel like you did something far worse than just losing track of time.

“Well as great as it was to be called a slut and all, the rent is due soon and I gotta head back in. It was nice talking to you, Michael.” Though the start of your words were joking they ended so sincerely and he couldn’t help but give you a near grateful smile in response. It made you wonder just how bad the rest of the staff treated him. What did he ever do?.. Well, besides maybe doing the same thing he did to you. 

“Yeah, same. And hey-” As you started to turn he moved forward. The action stopped you in your tracks though he made no move to physically stop you or grab you. “Watch out for my dad. You may not want to fuck him but he’s a manipulative bastard.”

You looked at him for a moment and were tempted to push the topic but were quickly reminded by the bubbling guilt in your stomach that you were needed back inside. Plus, it wasn’t hard to see why Michael wouldn’t like the man. If he was actively cheating on Michael’s mother then there was no reason for him to really have a positive opinion of him. Blood doesn’t equate loyalty by any means.

You nodded at him. “Will do. And, I mean, if anything weird happens, I can always just grab security.”

You smiled at him one last time before turning and opening the back door. The characteristic squeak it made greeted you before it clanked loudly behind you as you stepped inside. It took a few steps. One. Two. Maybe even three before you realized just what you had said. Were you… flirting with him? I mean, it could be taken as that but you were just being friendly with him. Or at least that was your intention. But a lot of your conversation after the accusations was strange and across the board emotionally so you didn’t doubt their ability to be taken in any context he wanted. You just hoped it was in a more innocent tone. Though even if you just meant it as a small little comment what the hell did that even mean? Were you expecting this stranger to save you from your boss/his father? 

You blame the nonsensical nature of the comment on the emotional whiplash. Maybe you just were still dazed by it all. Maybe the scent of pepperoni and bread sticks would clear up your head. Hell, the night air sure as hell didn’t. Though you blame that more on the company you kept than the air itself. 

Your shoes squeaked against the, relatively, freshly cleaned back halls. The sound taking your mind off of whatever just happened for even the briefest of moments instead filling you with nostalgia for high school gyms and school assemblies. Things you were sure Michael was still well acquainted with given his age. You tried not to think too much of that or your own shitty high school experiences as you pushed back through the main room doors. 

There were far less children running about and the place had all but died down now that the main dinner rush had vanished. Freddy’s wasn’t really like a normal restaurant. Normal places would have adults and even college kids popping in at all hours of the night for a quick drink and meal after work but at most you’d just encounter a crew of high school kids that you were pretty sure weren’t even going to bother going to class the next day. But even with them, it was rare to have them stick around even close to closing time. You often wondered why Freddy’s was even open so late but then you supposed 10 at night wasn’t as late as it sounded in your head. Hell, you were the type to naturally stay up until 3 in the morning just doing whatever you happened to be in the mood for. Reading. Art. Though most of the time it was simply watching TV. Whatever you could find really. It helped you relax and focus on anything other than the near numbing sense of normality and boredom that settled in when you moved to Hurricane. I mean, you weren’t one for big towns and you hardly came from a place filled with hustle and bustle but anything was better than this. But it was comfortable. It was safe. And it was far away from your family. 

Your feet carried you into the dining room, your eyes scanning the place to see if anyone new had entered or if you needed to do a quick swap with a coworker just so they could take a break. What few people were left behind lingered at tables that were already served as they enjoyed what little was left of milkshakes and sodas. Sure, there were a few dozen kids but they were mostly now busy attempting to win prizes or being lifted by parents as their eyes attempted to fight the sleep that was calling. Though, that didn’t mean there wasn’t work to do. You moved towards the tables you left behind and began to clean. Some were easier than others. Polite piles of whatever the family had left behind were left at some while others had a more sprawling mess that made you fetch cleaning supplies and gloves. You hated the latter with a passion but it wasn’t like it wasn’t something you were surprised by. Kids couldn’t fully help it. Your first trip was easy. Basic dishes being picked up and returned to the kitchen where they would go in the pile to be washed before returning with a broom to sweep away the many fries and food chunks left behind. Most of the time it wasn’t too hard to clean. It was just when a particularly sticky patch made the food stretch and resist your efforts that your gag reflex threatened to send your well digested dinner backup to join it. 

You powered through it though as you finished up you couldn’t help but regret actually being efficient at your job. If you had taken your time you would have avoided the awkward silence and the realization that you and the other waitresses, for now, had nothing to do. You assumed there were other things to do, there was at your last waitressing job, yet they all huddled up in the corner exchanging hushed words with the occasional look at the tables or front doors. Still so vigilant yet so engaged in whatever they were talking about. You approached the lot of them and the group almost seemed to part for you, absorbing you into the chatter despite the fact you didn’t recognize most of the girls. It wasn’t all the waitresses. No, some were still doing their jobs here and there. It was just three. Sylvia, a blonde you were pretty sure was barely old enough to work here and a brunette that would be pretty if it weren’t for the way her smile didn’t seem to reach her eyes. There was just something so judgmental about her stare but you simply waved it off as being tired. It was a rather long day and you still had a few hours left. 

“What is it with kids these days? It wasn’t this bad when I was younger! I swear parents have gotten lazier… the ones who even raise their kids at least.” Sylvia complained in that almost sitcom esk drawl. You rolled your eyes at her comment. Kids were kids. Though you didn’t particularly love them you knew better than to hate them for just having fun. Especially at a place like Freddy’s. You opened your mouth to say something but before the words could leave your lips the blonde interjected.

“It’s not Mr. Afton’s fault Michael’s how he is.” Oh. It seems you haven’t been the only person on the receiving end of Michael Afton’s cutting words. You leaned against the Freddy Fazbear decorated mock stain glass that worked as a divider between the tables and the small waitressing nook for a moment.

“Like hell it isn’t. You can smell the man a mile away. He’s hardly a father these days. But at least he’s in the kids' life. Unlike the mother.” The brunette added with a roll of her eyes.

“His son died . He’s mourning.” It was the blonde’s turn to chip in again which only caused the others to roll their eyes. 

“Three years ago!”

Their judgment and disdain for the family, even despite the current rough patch apparent with each contribution to the conversation. Though a part of you was curious and wanted to stay behind, those few sentences were enough to make you feel like trash just for being near it. Especially that last little batch. You were more the type for harmless gossip. You know, who was dating who, who said what trashy remark to who while drunk. Things that didn’t sting when said out loud. Not like this. Mocking a man when he was down was low. You didn’t know Mr. Afton well but you knew better to judge someone in his position. Instead, you opted to leave again. 

You flitted between actually working and trying your best to appear busy. You weren’t full wait staff so no one had actually bothered to train you on any specialty tasks to be done. The stark contrast between the two areas of the restaurant becoming more and more clear with each minute that flew by. But you could mop at least. You knew how to do that and knew where it was well enough. Spills were spills. That didn’t change no matter what section of the building you were in. So, instead of just standing around like a lost puppy you decided to make use of what time you had to grab a mop and clean a patch of tile that made your shoes stick each time you walked over it. You hoped it was nothing more than milkshake or Coke but one could never be sure with kids.

Back to the employee hallway. You’d been here so many times already this evening that it didn’t feel strange. Just another lap in the duties of the night. Your mind already roaming and deciding if you were hungry enough for a late second dinner or if you should just head to bed when you got home. It wasn’t that late. You could probably watch at least one movie. Horror or maybe adventure. It was dark enough outside. Perfect mood lighting for-

Shit.

A squeak of shoes accompanied by a grunt. Muttered apologies leaving your lips as you stepped back from whoever you had run into. The scent of alcohol and cigarettes making your nose scrunch up in almost a flash before you fully realized who you had run into. 

Blue eyes. Though these were more akin to ice than the ocean blue you had seen before.

“Mr. Afton! I’m so, so sorry.” You managed out as you stepped back.

“Watch where you’re going.” Mr. Afton’s eyes were set on you, a dark expression on his face as his lips curled into what you assumed was to be a smile. Though whether he meant it to be welcoming or frightening, you couldn’t tell. It was somewhat left hanging in the space between the two. He spoke in almost a harsh voice, deep and cold though with a lingering almost deadly sweetness to it, as his eyes watched you like a hawk. His cold and dismissive tone filled the hallway and made you shrink ever so slightly in on yourself.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, again. I was just grabbing the mop in the back.” You tried to excuse your actions as if you needed to do so. As if you needed an excuse to be in an area meant for employees only.

“What’s your name?”

Fuck. 

Nothing good ever came of someone in a managerial position asking for your name. It was usually followed by a quick reprimand or worse. You couldn’t just ignore his question though and quickly gave him your name followed by a quick and respectful sir. Even though Freddy’s was anything but a formal establishment, something about the way Mr. Afton carried himself just made you feel like it was proper. Like he would get upset with you if you didn’t. But then maybe he was already upset with you for addressing him as some stranger while everyone else tended to call him and his counterpart by their first names. But it felt off to address him as simply ‘William’. It didn’t feel right. It was like knowing the names of your best friend’s parents. That knowledge was always in the back of your mind but you would never use it. It just felt almost taboo.

The man himself nods, his face remaining cold and harsh as the corners of his mouth curl up more. Perhaps he was trying to be friendly. Perhaps. But as your name leaves his lips it sends a shiver down your spine. That coldness lingered in his voice as an almost authoritative edge peaked in. His eyes still eternally staring, almost boring holes into your very being, as he cocked an eyebrow up. You were staring, you knew that much but there was something off-putting about the man that made you not want to look away. That caused that little spot between your shoulder blades to tense up ever so slightly. It was like he got a kick out of seeing you uncomfortable. Out of seeing the smallest bit of discomfort as you unconsciously shifted your weight between your feet. 

“I don’t remember hiring you.”

“You didn’t, sir. Henry-ah- Mr. Emily did. I’m also not normally a waitress so-”

“No one told me they were taking the day off.”

“Mr. Emily swapped our shifts. It was cleared by him a couple weeks ago.”

Every addition to the conversation just made you feel like you were being judged. Like a wrong word would put your pathetic little career in jeopardy though you don’t understand why. From what Henry and other older members of staff had told you of Mr. Afton he was nice. Once at least. 

Afton stared at you for a moment. His eyes roaming your uniform as if weighing what you just said. Anyone with a brain could see that this uniform was not yours. The owners were good to their staff. Gave them well fitting things that made them comfortable in their shifts. Not like this ill fitting mess. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world but it wasn’t up to the normal standards and you briefly wondered if he was going to comment on it when he sighed. His eyes closed for a moment and when they reopened they seemed to soften somewhat though they kept an edge you couldn’t quite place. Even his smile fell to a more natural expression as his shoulders slumped ever so slightly.

“Right. He probably mentioned it to me. Who are you covering for, again? Do me a favor and refresh my memory.” His words were much kinder now. The harsh edge had faded even if just slightly but it was enough for some semblance of charm to leak through. 

“He’s a manipulative bastard.”

Michael’s words briefly flashed in your mind at how easily it was for him to slip on a more pleasant persona. Though there was also a strange sense of déjà vu there at the very reminder of Michael. Like father, like son, you found yourself answering the same questions. And just like his son the prickly exterior melted away to something more friendly though you wondered if it was even a fraction as genuine as it seemed to be with Michael.

“Jessica.” You replied simply. You expected him to react to that given what Michael told you. To show disappointment or something at least but the news didn’t seem to phase him in the slightest. In fact, if anything there seemed to be a lack of recognition in his eyes. Like the name I thought was supposed to mean something meant little if anything at all.

“Ah.”

You partly hoped that would be all to this conversation. His unwavering stare still rather unnerving despite the gentler persona he had slipped into. Though you suppose you were being a bit too harsh on a stranger. Letting Michael’s words affect you too heavily. If Michael’s words were true, not that you were doubting them, there might be more to this. Especially given what little you overheard.

Still, that didn’t mean you had to be comfortable with him. With how his gaze just seemed glued to you.

“So, Henry hired you. Recently?” Another question sticking you in place in a conversation that felt as thin as paper.

“Actually, I’ve worked here for a while.”

“Oh? I’m surprised, I haven’t seen you around before. You must not be on closing shifts often.” You were. He was the one that wasn’t around often. Yes, your shifts overlapped quite a lot but Afton was far less welcoming than Henry. An enigma locked up in that office of his. Though you supposed someone had to run this place.

“No, I work closing. Just more front of the house than back.”

There was just a hum from him in response as his eyes began to roam. You couldn’t tell if he was sizing you up or judging you but that look felt less than pleasant. 

“If you’re to take waitressing shifts, leave your measurements with Henry or myself. We’ll get you your own and not some hand -me-downs.” 

Oh. That was why.

“I won’t often but it would be a good idea to get one in case of emergencies. If that’s alright.”

“Of course.” I paused for a moment, seemingly thinking about something before a smile crossed his lips. “Well, it was a pleasure to bump into you. Watch where you’re going next time.”

Though his words were kind and his smile seemed somewhat genuine you couldn’t help but think about the less than pleasant exterior you were first faced with. He’s in mourning. You tried to excuse him for whatever conceived misgivings you had with him despite Michael’s words. I mean, you yourself probably seemed like a lazy, careless and rather unfriendly sort if he were to judge you by this whole thing. So your own smile stretched into a welcoming and friendly smile. Not too wide as to seem fake or uncaring but enough to show him even the slightest warmth. The smallest touch of a friendly gesture.

“Same. I mean, I will, Mr. Afton.” That smile of his lingered though you felt it never truly reached his eyes. Perhaps he was just tired. You didn’t imagine running a business was the most stress free of professions.

“Please, call me William.”

“Right, William.” His name still felt awkward on your tongue but it wasn’t like you were going to tell him no. He was your boss.

With that he stepped aside though he had no reason to. It was you that was the one in the way. It was you that should move around him but you stepped forward to accept the gesture. To walk past him with a little nod of the head as you made your way to the supply closet. It was a short enough walk. The door was unlocked and as you entered the scent of cleaning solution greeted you. A mix of pine, lemon and bleach that made the back of your throat burn ever so slightly as you pushed deeper into the closet. In the back sat the mop bucket next to a utility sink which made it easy to fill. You turned the knob and let lukewarm water fill the bucket as your thoughts roamed again but only for the briefest moment. After your interaction with Mr Afton- William you didn’t want to fuck up again. You didn’t need to zone out only to find the supply closet a swampy mess. You had embarrassed yourself enough for an evening though as you lifted the bucket you wondered if you were about to do it a second time. You staggered a little under the weight and water sloshed over the side slightly causing you to curse under your breath and quickly tip it back into the sink before disaster could occur. Water poured out until half was left and a more comfortable weight remained in your hands.

Cleaning was simple. It took your mind off the strange interactions of the night. Sure, it wasn’t the worst night you had had by any means but it was strange to run into not one Afton but two. Both as prickly as they could be. Though you supposed that it was bound to happen eventually. It was a family business after all. Was supposed to be for the Emilys too, you hear, before everything happened. 

In the last few hours before closing more and more wait staff left, clocking out of their shifts for the night, until the closing crew were the only to remain. A few teens still lingered, crowding around a machine as they attempted to best each other on the sole pinball machine tucked away in the corner. The pings and flashing lights of the thing let you know even from where you were standing that whoever was playing was doing at least somewhat of a good job. Sure, they hadn’t triggered any of the special events yet but they were doing well enough without them. The crowd seemed hyper focused on the ball and just by their hand movements and tilts alone you could easily track the ball’s travel across the board. Your eyes lingered for a moment before you had to tear them away. As much as you would love to see just how high of a score they could rack up, you knew you should probably get to work. Or at least to another break.

You tended to forget those and the closer it got to closing the more that opportunity was slowly slipping out of your fingers. After all, no one was allowed to take a break in the hour before closing. Company rules. You didn’t really understand it but you weren’t going to be one to break it. 

Your feet took you through the familiar hallway and back out the back door. It had gotten colder since you last stood out here and the slight chill made you wish you had brought your jacket with you. You were alone this time, no Afton in sight and based off the scent of actually fresh night air you could tell your coworkers hadn’t been out here for at least a few hours. It was nice and relatively silent. The only sounds greeting you being that of nature and the flickering neons of the pizzeria. It was calming and you again found a place near the back wall to lean. The bricks now freezing against your bare arms but you hardly cared. Something about it all made you feel even more alive despite the slight stench of rot coming from the dumpsters nearby. Your feet ached and you were glad you had at least one day off fully before you had to come back to this place. Your bed was singing its siren song already and you were so, so close to falling into it and just heading home. However, you just had to power through the last two hours. Just two more and that was it. No more waitressing. 

Well, unless someone was looking for a favor again. 

Thoughts of Jessica brought Michael's words from earlier fresh to your mind. Was he serious with all that? He seemed angry enough to make the words seem legitimate but then his father also seemed to carry the same unabashed dislike of others. Maybe it was just a family trait. If you were in a bigger town you’d assume they were looking down at you as a lowly worker but Freddy’s didn’t make nearly enough to justify that attitude. The Aftons were well off, yes, but they were nowhere near wealthy enough to stick their nose in the air at anyone else. At least, you think. Meaning either Michael’s attitude was hereditary or his words carried truth. A part of you felt guilty for even doubting such an admittance but you knew that most stories were never as simple as they seemed and if Michael Afton hated his father as much as he seemed to, he could have misunderstood a situation. Unless he saw something. He worked security after all. Had he seen something on the cameras? Or was it all just rumors he heard second hand?

You were tempted to talk to Jessica about it come Tuesday. She’d be working then and you’d have a couple hours where your shifts overlapped. You could tempt her outside with an offer of a break where she could eagerly discuss details of her latest date and just slip in your own little interrogation when and if you felt it was fitting. If the date went well, you’d ask. If it didn’t, you’d drop it. While it was a serious matter you didn’t want to kick someone while they were down and you knew all too well the mental toll a particularly bad date could take on a person. Could ruin the next few days for you but Jessica was never really the type to come back with negative reviews. Well, not for the first date and usually she ended up being the one breaking hearts and tossing people to the curb.

You just couldn’t picture it. Jessica sleeping with a married man? Her boss nonetheless? She slept around, sure, but he wasn’t her type. She despised older men, or so you thought, and even went as far as making a comment or two about the appearance of Henry Emily so why was William Afton any different. Well, you knew how he was different. You saw plenty. Piercing blue eyes, taller than any man should be, thin to almost a fault. He was like the living embodiment of an icicle while Henry Emily was more like a walking teddy bear. You understood why Fredbear was the suit of Mr. Emily, it fit his personality. But Mr. Afton? You didn’t understand how a man like that was in a business like this. 

But you hardly knew him. You shouldn’t judge. You tried to remind yourself but judgment came all too easy when you had nothing to base it against.

You heard the door to the back open though you didn’t move from your spot. Your eyes did open but they found the woods ahead and for a brief moment you swear you thought you saw something back there. Something lurking in the deep almost vanishing quicker than should be possible. Dipping between the trees in a blur that made you wonder if it was simply a trick of the light or perhaps your tired eyes.

“Thought you didn’t smoke?” Sylvia sounded much more tired than she did the last time you heard her and for a moment you clung on to the blissfully clean air before she lit up. The scent of clove filled the air and you partly wished that literally anything else was here to cover it. You hated those clove cigarettes more than the others but you never commented on it. It was Sylvia’s break as much as yours.

“I don’t. I like the fresh air.” You didn’t mean the remark to sound pointed but you suppose in this context it very much was.

“Jess gonna be back to work tomorrow?” Your head tilted to actually make eye contact with her. Whatever was in the woods was gone or perhaps didn’t even exist. Best to focus on something real. Something that actually wanted to talk to you.

“Should be, yeah.” You watched Sylvia bring her fingers to her lips. Crimson tips framing her cigarette as she inhaled a bit greedier than you had seen Michael. Those words that were haunting you all night popped back into your head and you couldn’t help but wonder. “Hey, you hear a lot of gossip, yeah?”

And like that Sylvia’s attention was on you like a hawk. Her interest peaked as a glimmer seemed to shine in those eyes of hers. Gossip is what she dealt in and you just so happened to be her latest customer.

“Yeah why?” Her smile was somewhat unsettling. Do people really act like that? Trade in gossip as if it were currency or an underground network of news? 

“So, um, weird question but have you heard anything about Jessica?”

“Like what?” She pried with an almost a fox-like grin on her lips. You got the distinct feeling that if you said too much she would simply deny knowing but store whatever information you shared away for another day. You had to be careful.

“I dunno. Her and the Aftons? Does she like, get along with them? I ran into both of them earlier and I don’t know what to think.” I tried to cover it up with simple curiosity. Asking how a friend felt to base my own opinions on. Seemed like something someone would do, right?

“Couldn’t you ask her?” Shit.

“Yeah, I will on Tuesday if I remember. Just wanted to ask while it was still fresh in my head, you know? Since I work with Mr. Emily, I never really see the Aftons so I feel like I’ll forget all about it on Tuesday.”

“Oh, that’s fair.” Another inhale before smoke billowed out. She was kind enough to blow it away from you yet not kind enough to spare you as she stepped slightly closer. “I’m not sure how she feels about them but me personally? I’m not the biggest fan.”

“Oh?” 

“The kid’s a brat and his father’s an alcoholic with roaming eyes.”A creak of the back staff door again. Another addition to the gossip train. Yet as the figure emerged, your eyes couldn’t help but widen before traveling back to Sylvia in a silent yet frantic gaze. A wordless hint to stop.  

“You be careful around him.” The second warning of the night when it comes to William Afton. The door slammed shut with the typical clang causing Sylvia to finally turn with a smile clearly expecting another waitress. You saw the edges of her mouth twitch slightly though never truly fall as she saw just who it was. 

“William! Stepping out for a smoke?” Her voice was that same mock friendly tone she put on whenever greeting someone. You half expected the usual ‘Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s’ to escape her lips at any moment. 

Afton in response turned. His hands were already to his face as he lit his own cigarette. Even from here you could tell it looked more expensive. No creases or strange smell you could pick up on from far away. The end of his cigarette lit up and flared a little as he took the first inhale before he let his hand fall and the lighter returned to his pocket. As he turned back to you and Sylvia you expected him to scold you both for whatever end of the chatter he heard yet you were surprised to find his eyes hold a touch of warmth and a smile to spread across his lips causing small wrinkles to accent it all. 

“Just taking a break from some paperwork.” He acknowledged Sylvia with a nod of the head. His smile even somewhat reached his eyes as crows feet dug in deep. It wasn’t necessarily a bad look. It was then his eyes went to you and his smile seemed to grow ever so slightly. “Oh, we meet again, it seems.”

His mood seemed to be much improved from earlier, making you wonder if you indeed caught him at a bad time. 

“Hello, again Mr. Afton.”

“William.” He corrected with such a friendly lilt to his voice that it had you just further doubting what you experienced earlier. Your eyes flicked to Sylvia who simply gave him what one would call a plastic smile. A smile reserved for guests and for politely enduring. If she was Southern you feel like this look would have been accompanied by a sea of ‘bless your heart’s and utterances of the word ‘hun’. You doubted the mock politeness was unnoticed by the older man though if he did notice he didn’t bother mentioning it. 

“William.” You gave him a small polite smile but it still felt odd. A lot of Afton for one day but at least Sylvia was here to-

“Well, I have to get going. Breaks over and all.” Sylvia said with a near cheery little chirp as she stomped out the relatively fresh cigarette on the ground. You opened your mouth as if to protest but she was gone before you could say a single word. She had just got there. Did she hate the man that much? Was there something so offensive about his being that she felt it was needed to just abandon you?

You pouted a little but didn’t try to move from your place. It wasn’t like you personally had anything against the man and it would be rude to just vanish. Besides that, you just started your break. Like hell you were going to give it up just for this. Instead, you turned back to the forest and just went back to enjoying the night air in silence. A silence the man with you didn’t seem to mind as the scent of his own cigarette filled the air. Thank god it wasn’t clove. Though it burned your lungs ever so slightly just being near it and made the back of your throat tickle you didn’t mind the smell fully. It wasn’t like the cheaper stuff some of your colleagues smoked but it was still distinctly gross in a way. It probably tasted better, you tried to explain away to yourself. 

“Run out of smokes?” 

He finally broke the silence though it didn’t seem forced. More like an honest inquiry and as you turned your head to look at him his pale eyes stared down at you. Was he always standing that close to you? He was close enough to touch and the proximity made you nervous. Not because you thought he would do anything but because you became oh so aware of the height difference and the lingering scent of alcohol that you could pick up with the fading cologne that lingered.

“Oh, no I don’t smoke. I just come out here to get fresh air.”

“Fresh air where everyone gathers to smoke?” There was a touch of humor in his voice. A chuckle threatening to leave his lips that made you smile a little.

“It would be weird to head into the woods for a bit or linger around the front of the building.” There was always the break room to hang out in but, again, there was just something so welcoming about the night air.

He simply hummed in response as another silence fell over the two of you. You didn’t know if you should say something to him or just let that silence fall fully but it was oddly comfortable. Almost as if the both of you appreciated the silence of the other in this moment. Both too tired or just looking for a break free of useless conversation. A real break from the stress of the day. A moment of peace. And so you let that peaceful silence stay for one minute then two and before you knew it you felt the cold far too clearly on your bare arms. You brought your hands up to lightly rub at your arms as the hair began to rise up in response to the chill. Afton on the other hand was almost done with his smoke and you had no idea if that was something that was normal or if he had some addiction but you wouldn’t blame him for it given the responsibilities that fell onto his shoulders. Given his situation. You tried not to think of it all.

Instead, you pushed yourself away from the wall and made a move almost to leave which didn’t go unnoticed by those almost grave-like grays. His gaze caused you to pause for a moment and as you looked to the back door you wondered if he was looking at you the whole time or if your movement simply reminded him you were there. It was probably the latter. You looked at him for a second just on the verge of saying goodnight when he spoke. 

“How long have you worked here?” Getting to know you questions in the now freezing cold. It wasn’t the worst situation that you could find yourself in but you wished he would have spoken up sooner.

“Oh uh a couple months now. I’m new to Hurricane.” The last bit was information he didn’t ask for but you felt it provided context. Context you didn’t understand why you felt you needed.

“Oh? What brings you to Hurricane?”

“Family. Not that I have family here. More like I have family elsewhere I would like to avoid.” You’d rather not go into the entire conversation of family issues, mental instability and the joys of college and just settled for the basics.

“You’re a little young to be on your own, aren’t you?”

“Not really. I was alone in college too.”

“What did you study in college?”

“Business. Which I will totally never actually touch again.” The mention of what you studied brought the smallest of smiles to his face. Oh yeah. That was what he studied, wasn’t it? Or at least you assumed. Henry was an engineer and from what you gathered Mr. Afton was on the more business side of things and judging how well the entire place ran he had at least some education in the field. You would have asked him questions in return but something about that felt too personal. Like you would be pushing into new territory that you may not be welcome in to. 

“You’re shivering.” Oh. His words were a simple statement and you brought your arms up to hug yourself slightly in hopes of getting just a touch of warmth. 

“I should get back inside.” He simply nodded in response, taking a step away from you to let you properly pass. Your eyes went to your  feet for a moment as you began to pass him, your shoulder briefly coming in contact with his arm causing you to mutter out an apology and turn to him with the smallest of smiles. “Good night, Mr. Af-William.”

“Goodnight, Miss.”

The door clanged shut behind you.