Chapter Text
“Hey, Mr. Afton, am I good to go?” Scott peeked his head through the office door and locked eyes with William, who was sitting at the desk in the center of the room.
“Yes, I-” Seeming to suddenly remember something, he rifled through a pile of papers beside him. “Hold on.” He pulled out a small note and held it out. “Here’s the address; I put the gate code on there, too, in case it’s locked when you get there.”
“Oh- thank you.” Scott stepped into the office and took the paper despite knowing well where William’s house was as well as the gate code. He had visited Michael more than enough times as a kid to remember. “What time should I show up?”
“Nine or Ten should be fine. I have some things to finish up in the morning, so don’t fret about being late.” William was staring down at the paperwork he had been tending to, something about calculating what he should order for the restaurant and what he could live without.
“Thank you, sir…” Scott trailed off, looking down at the address one final time before folding the paper and sliding it into his pocket. “I’ll miss this place.”
“Not too much, right?” William glanced up at Scott for only a second. “You won’t have anyone to scold there.”
“I don’t scold people.”
“What about the poor kid who made the wrong pizza for your table twice ?”
“I feel like…” Scott’s eyes flickered to the other side of the room as he hesitantly replied. “…my reaction was justified.”
“I won’t blame you if you’re happy to finally get out of here, Scott.”
“I don’t want to lie,” Scott said. “I’ll miss it.”
William didn’t reply immediately. For a moment, Scott assumed that was his cue to leave, but then William began to speak again.
“Why do you stay here, Scott?”
“Here?” Scott faltered for a moment. “I mean, I work here-”
“For so long, though,” William clarified. “You’ve nearly been here three years, haven’t you?”
“Damn, have I?” Scott found himself anxiously crossing his arms. “I guess, since I started here in ‘89, it would be… three years…”
“And you haven’t found anything better?”
“Not really; I haven’t been looking.” Scott shrugged, leaving behind all of the thoughts that he once had of running away from everything and making a life for himself rather than piecing it together from what others had given him. “I mean, I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for Michael. I don’t even think I’d have a job.”
“Do you want to know what I think?” William rhythmically tapped his pen against the desk, staring down at the papers in front of him- new job applications from college-age kids not unlike Scott.
“What do you think?” Scott asked hesitantly.
“I think…” William ceased tapping his pen, his eyes fixed on Scott. “You work harder than anyone in this place, and you could do so much more.”
Scott was silent for a moment, waiting for William to continue. However, he remained silent.
“Mr. Afton?” Scott hesitantly replied. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I don’t want to see you mourn this place. It isn’t your responsibility anymore.”
“I can’t help it.” Scott glanced through the open office door. “Despite everything, I like it here.”
“Well, if I ever have any errands to run here, I’ll send you in my stead,” William replied with a knowing glance.
“Deal.” Scott took a step back. “Do you want me to shut the lights off before I go?”
“Yes, Scott.”
“Okay.” Scott stepped into the doorway, turning back for a moment. “Goodnight, Mr. Afton.”
“Goodnight, Scott.”
Scott stepped into the hallway, the heels of his shoes clicking against the floor and echoing in the empty restaurant.
It was the end of an era.
He pressed the switch on the wall and the dining room darkened around him, the last light to darken being the one above the show stage, where the animatronics loomed over their domain.
Scott paced toward the stage, hesitant. In the shadows, he felt as if all of the animatronics’ eyes were on him; it was as if they were prepared to jump out at him at any moment. He set his palms on the edge of the stage, staring up at the impossibly tall Freddy Fazbear.
He didn’t remember Freddy ever looking quite as rough as he looked now, his fur matted in some spots and stained in others. He wanted to think that William looked after the animatronics and cared about their image, but deep down he knew that it was a lie.
The question that had been plaguing Scott the most for the past few weeks was why most of the stains on the animatronics were red-
Someone was behind him, breathing over his shoulder.
But, when Scott turned around, he only caught a glimpse of whatever was behind him rushing away into the darkness.
All he saw were black and white stripes.
Scott wasn’t sure what to expect when he walked in.
It was certainly different from the holding cell that he met William in earlier, but he didn’t expect it to be quite as isolated as it was, a lone room in the middle of a concrete labyrinth, separated from human contact by only a thick wall and a bulletproof glass window.
The guard shut the door behind Scott as he stepped into the visiting room, leaving the space silent. There were no other visitors in the hall. He could hear his own footsteps echoing around him.
When Scott sat down, shedding his coat, he found his eyes fixed on the image in front of him. There was a sort of artistic quality to the situation that he could never forget, thoughts about recreating the scene on a canvas filling his head.
There was William Afton, behind the glass, in a barren room not unlike an animal’s pen. His face was nearly as ashen as the gray prison jumpsuit that he wore, as were the roots of his hair. He hadn’t quite grown a full beard, but there was far more than stubble on his jaw. His eyes, once a striking silver, had paled so much that they nearly blended in with the whites of his eyes.
The sight was miraculous. It was the kind of image that made Scott want to cry and laugh at the same time. He had his doubts when he had first entered the prison, but they were being quickly erased with every second that he stared at the man in front of him, unmoving.
William was the first to speak up after a minute of silence.
“Mr. Emily, huh?” His voice was worn and raspy, lacking all of the authority that it had once carried.
“I thought I might as well get it changed- I guess, changed back , because that was my original last name.” Scott idly tapped his fingers against the counter in front of him. “A while ago, I called my mom and asked her if I should actually go through with it, and she said that would probably be best.”
“You look like him.” William noticed. “You’ve always looked like him- I don’t know why I couldn’t place it before.”
“Yeah?” Scott’s eyes lit up for a moment. “If you had figured it out sooner, would you have told me?”
“Sure, Scott.” William replied emptily. “It would have depended on when I figured it out.”
“You know, for a while I wondered how the hell you never knew that I was Henry’s son. I wondered how you could be so close with this man- how your families could be so close- and you never knew who his children were. I mean, Michael knew who my dad was, so why didn’t you know? Then, I realized.” Scott looked into William’s eyes so intensely that he could see his own reflection. “You really were never there for Michael. As a kid, he spent more time with my dad than he did with you, so you actually never knew -”
“Come off it, Scott.” William interrupted. “Why are you here?”
“I’m here to say goodbye,” he began, “and to tell you all of the things that I wanted to tell you when you were first convicted.”
“Did you hear about the child murder charges?”
“Of course I did, Mr. Afton.” Scott fought the urge to grin at the man in front of him. “You’ll be in here for the rest of your life.”
“I’ll find a way out.” William’s gaze darted to the side of the room- the single weak point where the walls were thin enough that he had a chance of escaping if the time was right. “It’s miserable in here. I haven’t had a cigarette in a week.”
“That sucks,” Scott said without a shred of empathy. “I’ve had two already this morning.”
“Yeah, and you look like hell.” William gave Scott a once over. If he could, he would have tried to straighten up Scott’s hair, or his clothes, or something . “You won’t make it to thirty at the rate you’re going.”
“I look better than you .”
“Debatable.”
“Well, you did this to me.” Scott shrugged listlessly. “I am the way that I am because of your influence, and I’m glad that this is the last you’re seeing of me.”
“You did this to yourself,” William argued. “You could have walked out of that place any day; I wouldn’t have stopped you.”
“Why did you stop me when I tried to leave, then?” Scott paused for a moment, waiting for a response that never came. “I was about to walk out the door and you stabbed me.”
“I couldn’t just let you leave like that,” William defended.
“You tried twice . You had two chances to kill me, and you never did-”
“I was close.” A hint of a grin settled itself on William’s face. “I watched the life fade from your eyes…”
“This whole time, I thought I could see through you,” Scott continued. “I thought that there had to be some noble reason behind everything you did, even if it was murder. I thought for a while that you did it in an attempt to bring your family back from the dead.”
“It certainly crossed my mind,” William replied airily. “Then, I realized that they never truly died; their souls just inhabited a new vessel. It was a way to live forever.”
“So that’s what you’ve wanted all this time?”
“Yes.”
“That makes a lot of sense, considering everything…” Scott paused for a moment, collecting his words before continuing.
“I felt like you never really wanted me dead, despite what you told me.” He leaned against the counter, pain pulsing through his arm for a moment. “You had a million chances to kill me in a place where I wouldn’t have fought back; why didn’t you do it when we were having sex, or when I was asleep, or when you drugged me and I was unconscious?”
“I was so certain that you were going to die that night.” William looked down at Scott’s arms against the counter. “You nearly gave me a heart attack when you woke up the next morning.”
“You knew it wouldn’t kill me, right? You could have easily stabbed me and gotten it over with, and I would have let you do it.” Scott paused for a moment, thoughtful. “That’s why I don’t think you ever actually wanted to kill me. I think you wanted to keep me around.”
“I didn’t want to clean your blood off of the floor.”
Scott didn’t respond immediately after that, his eyes flickering up toward William for a moment.
“Why did you let me live?” Scott demanded, unsatisfied. “Why didn’t you kill me? You could have done it, and I wouldn’t have been around to testify against you in court.”
“I don’t think I can answer that, Scott; I don’t know why.”
“Fine.” Scott replied plainly. “How about, instead of asking all of these burning questions that I have, I just tell you everything that’s happened since you were convicted, beginning to end.”
“Go ahead.” William gestured carelessly. His limbs had sort of a limp quality to them now. Scott could have sworn that William had more muscle to him before.
“Well, you remember that I got Henry’s mailing address,” Scott began, and William nodded in reply. “I’ve been thinking of what I want to write to him; I want to make a good first impression. I know he technically knows me, but it’s more like he knows who I am rather than actually knowing me. It’s difficult to figure out where to start.
“Of course,” Scott continued, “I’ll have to tell him that I know you. I was thinking a lot about it- how much I should actually tell him- and I decided that I should at least tell him about what it was like to work with you and what you did with the restaurant after he left. I don’t want to tell him anything that might make him think differently of me, but he deserves to know what you did with the restaurant and with his characters.
“Someday, I’ll go out and actually try to find him, because I never had a father figure before you, and even then we burned that bridge pretty quickly. For a while, I had mom and Claire, but I still really need a parent . I need someone to go to when I’m struggling; I need someone to be there for me in a way that my friends haven’t been able to. I need a real family .
“I still can’t believe that I was so close to my dad, this entire time, and I never knew.”
“What were the odds that you would unknowingly end up working in the restaurant he built?” William added.
“I know…” Scott paused for a moment. “I thought about telling him everything I told you- everything that’s happened since I left for college- but I don’t know if it’s a good idea. Sure, he’s my dad, but he’s still a stranger to me. I don’t know how he would feel about me having a boyfriend, or working in a nightclub. Hell, after Claire’s reaction to it, I’m scared of him finding out that I drink and smoke.”
“I know I don’t have the permission to tell you this,” William said carelessly, “but he was an addict, too. Neither of us could run that restaurant sober.”
“Really?”
“I suppose the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” There was something of recognition, something of fondness in William’s eyes. “I had you pegged as an addict from the day I met you. At first, I wasn’t sure what it was, and I thought you might have been on something stronger than alcohol, but I realized that I was mistaken when I caught you with a flask in the security office one day.”
“I thought you didn’t see it.” Scott stared ahead with wide eyes. “You told me that you didn’t see anything.”
“I never said anything about it because it wasn’t an issue. You were one of the best servers I had, and as long as you could pass for sober, who was I to intervene?”
“Sometimes, I wish someone had said something.” Scott looked down at his hands. Short nails and bloody cuticles stared back at him. “But, I don’t know if my life would be any better. It would probably just be harder to get out of bed in the morning. I actually mentioned it to Michael because I’m scared to quit now. It’s become such a big part of my life, I don’t know what I’ll be like without it.”
“So you finally talked to Michael?” William asked.
“Yeah,” Scott replied with some hesitation. “He took me home from the courthouse. I was going to go home with him , but then we had this huge fight and I told him to just take me home instead. We haven’t spoken to each other since then.”
Before William could reply, Scott took a breath and continued.
“And- You know what? That’s fine. I didn’t have to tell him fucking anything; I could have gone home with Vincent and Loretta, but I got in the car with Michael, and if he hates me now then it’s his own damn fault.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you, Scott.”
“I think he does.” Scott looked up at William, a knowing look that communicated more than his words ever could. “I told him.”
William hesitated for a moment, something inside him crumbling at the thought that his own son knew about his affair.
“Why did you tell him?” Despite this, William attempted to appear unfazed in order to encourage Scott to answer truthfully.
“I didn’t plan on it when I got in the car with him, I just-” Scott rushed to get his explanation out. “I could have said anything else, but I was upset that he knew Henry was my dad this entire time, and I said the first thing I could think of that would get a reaction out of him.”
“Did you tell anyone else?” William asked urgently.
“No- Just- I told Jeremy when he picked me up from your house, but-”
“So no one else knows?” He clarified, and Scott nodded timidly in response. “-because I know Jeremy can keep a secret, but Michael…”
“I don’t think he’ll tell anyone,” Scott mumbled. “I think he knows that all hell will break loose if he does.”
William glanced away from Scott for a moment, thoughtfully clicking his tongue before he replied.
“I suppose I can live with that.”
They both fell into silence for a minute, a muffled array of chatter leaking in from outside the hall. A guard passed by them, his hands behind the back of his square uniform as he cast a suspicious glance in William and Scott’s direction before continuing on his way out of the hall.
“Can I ask you something else?” Scott began.
“Perhaps,” William answered slyly.
“Did you ever go to therapy?”
“Yes; I did, once.” William answered so easily that Scott was taken aback for a moment.
“When Michael and I had our fight after the trial,” Scott explained, “he said I should go because Jeremy was going to therapy, and I didn’t know how to respond because I know I should go, but I don’t know if it’ll actually help me or not. I was hardly ready to talk about what happened in court; I’m not ready to go into detail with a therapist.”
Scott watched William’s still face for a moment and wondered if this was what therapy was going to feel like. Then, he continued.
“Michael said I could talk about everything, from when I went to college to now, and I told him that I don’t remember it, but the truth is that I do. At least, I think I remember most of it.
“At the same time, I remember none of it at all. It kind of all feels like a dream.
“You know the story of me going to college, dropping out, and my situation with Brandon, but I never told you the rest. I had been avoiding talking about it because it was about Michael. He was always there for me when I was between jobs, and we had an ongoing fling with each other. It only stopped whenever Vincent came back to America.
“Maybe I should start sooner. In high school, I was best friends with Michael, and didn’t realize that I actually had feelings for him. Then, of course, I met Vincent and we pretty much clicked immediately. When the homecoming dance was approaching, Michael still hadn’t found a date, so I turned him around and pointed to a girl I knew from class.
“I said that she liked him and that she had been staring at him all week. It was true; she told me before that she had a massive crush on him, and he was completely oblivious. So, he went over and asked her to the dance, and she said yes, and I was so happy for them at first.
“Then, he started spending more time with her, and suddenly I started feeling like it was a mistake. I didn’t realize it then but I regretted setting them up together because I liked Michael. Even though I was already in a committed relationship, it was different to see him in a committed relationship.
“I left it alone, though. Maybe I felt guilty for a while, but it was nice to see him happy. We were still best friends, so I didn’t really have any reason to complain. It was bound to happen someday, with or without my help, and I always knew that I’d be there on his wedding day.
“I hope that he still wants me there after what I did. I know that his relationship with Dolly is strained right now and I know that it’s because of me.
“When I had my original fling with him, he and Dolly weren’t living together yet so it was easy to separate his long term relationship from whatever he had going on with me. She even knew that I was living there because I had nowhere else to go, and she didn’t have any problems with it. It was only after Brandon left and I was completely alone that our friendship started causing problems in his relationship with Dolly.
“I feel so bad about it now; I’ve never told anyone about this before because I don’t know why I did it. For a while, I couldn’t stand to go home alone. I couldn’t sleep in that huge bed all alone without wanting to kill myself-”
“I don’t understand,” William chimed in, “why you would want to die, Scott. There’s nothing worse than death; at the very least, if you’re suffering in life, there’s a way out, but death is the end. Nothing comes after.”
“There are a lot of things worse than death, Mr. Afton. Being alone is worse than death. Seeing your face on the news is worse. Testifying in court was worse. When I first met Loretta’s lawyer, I thought that it might feel good to finally talk about what happened, but it didn’t.”
“I was wondering why your testimony was so short,” William responded. “There were so many things you could have talked about, but you only included the events of the past month; why?”
“Well,” Scott leaned against the counter once again. “The lawyer recommended that I stick to the topic of you trying to kill me because it was the easiest to prove, and he probably didn't want a situation like Vincent’s testimony to happen again.”
“It wasn’t even me who brought it up in our meeting,” he continued. “It was our lawyer. Out of nowhere, he asks me if we had any kind of sexual relations. No one else was in the room, so I was honest with him.
“You know, it was kind of funny because he asked me if you had ever taken advantage of me and I said no. Then, after the trial, Michael asked me the same thing and I said no. I said it was mutual; every time we fucked, we both got something out of it. That was what I told him.”
“It was true,” William reinforced.
“Was it?” Scott evaded the grasp of William’s words, pressing on. “I know I should have realized earlier. I’m surprised that I didn’t realize, since it was the first thing anyone asked me, that you raped me. I guess I’m just used to it, right? -you having your way with me. I didn’t think anything of it because it didn’t feel any different. It felt the same.
“I know I’m supposed to hate you for it, and it’s so frustrating because I can’t. I’m happy that you’re in jail, but I don’t feel any hatred toward you. I want to put you in the ground and then lay down beside you.” Scott hesitated for a moment. “There’s something wrong with me.”
“I’m sure,” he continued, “even if I had accused you, it wouldn’t have mattered. It happened so long ago- I don’t have any concrete evidence that you did it- and it’s too late to do anything now. Best case scenario, they say that there isn’t enough evidence to prove you guilty. Worst case scenario, they use it against me, saying that I slept my way to the top because I wanted some of your power and now I’m only accusing you for my own benefit. Honestly, if I accused you now , it would only be a last ditch effort to finally have some semblance of justice for what happened, but I don’t think that’s real- justice, I mean. Have you ever felt like someone really got what they deserved, good or bad?
“I think about Jeremy a lot, and how you tried to kill him. I could say that I had a feeling it was you all along, but that would be a lie. I knew something weird was going on, and for a moment I thought that maybe it wasn’t an accident, but I didn’t know you then. I didn’t know who was behind the scenes- who was making these animatronics that were constantly involved in missing children’s cases. Now, I know that you were trying to distance yourself so that people wouldn’t suspect you. You were smart; you were calculated.
“Anyway, I don’t think there are enough good things in the world to make up for what happened to Jeremy- or Michael, for that matter. You give him everything he wants and he still doubts every single decision he makes, and he’s afraid of the dark, and he gets really drunk at parties and pulls me aside just to talk about his childhood. Sure, my mom disowned me and left me with nothing , and I hated her for a while, but after five years, I forgave her. My childhood was fine; it was pretty boring until I met Vincent, but it was fine.”
“I’ve always wondered,” William replied, “what your childhood was really like, Scott.”
Scott paused for a moment, before a laugh escaped him.
“You don’t mean that,” he said.
“Scott, you’re the first person I’ve spoken to since I got here who’s not in uniform.”
“Fine.” Scott huffed, his eyes darting to the side to avoid looking at William. “It was a lot of silence and stillness in a big house where I wasn’t allowed to touch anything. I was alone a lot of the time, so I drew and painted a lot . I didn’t get amazing grades in school, which wasn’t a problem until Claire decided that she didn’t want to go to college. They started fighting- Claire and mom- almost every day.”
Scott paused, took a breath, and thought for a moment before he continued.
“I wandered into her room one day- I was twelve or thirteen, I think- and she was sitting on the windowsill, smoking a pipe, and I ask her what she’s smoking and she says that she’s smoking pot. Then, she just hands it to me, and of course I smoke it because I didn’t know what else to do. A couple days later, I smell the smoke from the hallway, knock on her door, and ask to smoke with her again because it made me feel good. It didn’t just make me feel good, though; I felt better than I had ever felt in my whole life.
“Now, I bet you’re wondering when I stopped, because I’m clearly not a stoner anymore- if I ever was, I mean. I never showed up to school while I was high or anything. No- I stopped when Claire stopped. One day, I walked into her room because I hadn’t smelled any smoke and I was worried about her. I think I was a freshman in high school. Anyway, I asked her if she was okay and she told me that she was pregnant.
“I think I was just as terrified as she was, not just about her having a whole child to take care of, but also losing the relationship with her that I had worked so hard to build. I finally had someone to go to when I was sad, or scared, or when I just needed an escape from the rest of the world, and she was just out of reach. I hardly saw her after that.
“So, I’m wondering, does anyone really get justice for what happened to them? Will you ever feel the pain of everyone you’ve killed? Probably not, since you’re locked away from the rest of the world. Even then, regardless of what happens to you, it won’t remove all of the suffering that your victims went through. I don’t even know what that would feel like- to feel the pain of all of your victims. Why you killed any of those kids in the first place is still beyond me, and I don’t think I’ll ever understand why you did it.”
Scott’s eyes lit up for a moment.
“But then, maybe justice only comes with understanding,” he wondered.
Scott paused thoughtfully, looking through William’s eyes and seeing the rest of the prison reflecting in them.
“…but I don’t know anything about you.”
Silence sustained the room for a moment, seeming to wash away everything Scott had said up until that point. William didn’t respond, still staring into Scott’s eyes intently.
“I don’t know anything about you except the people you’ve killed,” Scott mumbled, his words barely echoing off of the concrete walls. “Now, I’ll never know anything else.” He took a step away from the window before glancing at the door, where the guard was still waiting for him in the hall. “I should go.”
“Come back to visit me, Scott,” William replied, his voice unusually warm and inviting. “I’ll tell you everything you want to hear.”
“I can’t come back, Mr. Afton.” Scott shook his head, refusing to meet William’s eyes again. “This is goodbye.”
Scott waited for William to respond, stepping toward the door when it appeared that he wasn’t going to-
“Until we meet again?”
Scott froze in place, his hand on the door. He turned his head to glance through the window one final time.
“Goodbye, William.”
Then, he stepped into the hallway on his own accord; no one was pulling him away or saving him from harm. He had left all on his own.
The sun was unusually bright when he stepped outside, the sky a vibrant blue.
He nearly missed the familiar man who was crossing paths with him in the parking lot, having to do a double take.
“Michael?”
Michael clearly noticed Scott- his eyes widened in shock- but he passed Scott without a word, continuing to trudge toward the prison doors.