For The Boys

William Afton was on his way to cause trouble. He’d been itching to make himself known to young Michael ever since he started working at the pizzeria. The animatronics hadn’t made any fuss or shown any sign of disturbance in Mike’s presence and that irked him. Besides the break in where his children killed three men that occurred a few weeks prior, everything had gone so disappointingly quiet. For a while he’d been torn between letting it be for the sake of Vanessa’s tireless efforts to keep his anonymity in place, and making a mess just for the hell of it. He’d grown restless over the course of Mike’s employment and decided the latter’s inevitable crescendo was well overdue. He’d parked inconspicuously across the street from the pizzeria, jitters of anticipation setting in as he collected himself and everything he needed for the show. His phone rang. He sighed impatiently before answering swiftly.

“Hello?”

“… Hi, Mr Raglan… it’s uh, it’s Mike Schmidt.”

William furrowed his brow, darting his eyes over the pizzeria, as if he’d been caught in the act, he sat forward, eyeing the building like a hawk. “Mike? … isn’t it a little late to be seeking, well uh, council?”

Mike swallowed audibly. “Yeah, it is. You’re right. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I called.” He sounded embarrassed.

William shook his head as if to clear it, confusion and curiosity ebbing their way into the forefront of his mind. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just surprised is all… Are you alright?”

Mike nodded, to himself more than anything. “Oh, uh, sure yeah, I uh, it’s quiet here. I’m getting on with it, y’know. I just uh, I thought about how helpful you’ve been and I uh… well it’s much appreciated.”

William sat back and released a suddenly very loaded sigh. “Well it is my job, Mike.”

Mike used his free hand to rub at his aching eyes. “Yeah of course, of course it is. Still, thank you.”

William squinted, as if to help him see Mike through the walls that stood so close yet so far out of reach. “Is… that why you’re calling me at…” He checked his watch. “Two am? To thank me?”

Mike swallowed again. Unsure what he was even doing at this point. “Yes, and no, it’s important you should know that, but no, I’m sorry, I wanted to hear your voice.”

William’s breath caught in his throat. He looked down at the knife resting on his lap. “… you wanted to hear my voice..?”

Mike’s eyes grew wide as he clocked onto what his exhausted mind and mouth had just admitted to. “No! I- not in a weird way! I wanted to say hi! Just uh, see… how you’re doing…”

William smirked, that giddy feeling pushing back up through his stomach and into his chest. He felt warm, it made him uncomfortable. He frowned. “Mike, it’s 2 am, you’re calling your career advisor to say hi, does that not seem weird to you.”

Mike sagged in his seat. It was weird. Very much so. If he ever needed an indication that he needed to take better care of himself and his sleep schedule, this was most definitely it. “Alright yeah, a little bit. I’m sorry.”

William bit his bottom lip. What could have possibly crossed Mike’s mind for him to call William of all people at this hour. He supposed he’d done worse in the throws of loneliness, maybe if he’d had someone to talk to, someone who cared, someone to call at two am, certain things might have gone differently. Or not. He’d never felt this reflective before. “… I’m doing okay, a little tired I suppose, thank you for your concern, Mike.” What the hell was this. What was Mike’s angle here? Why did he want to hear Steve’s voice? There were too many questions and William had no answers. He clearly needed to see where this went. He had to leave before he cut this story short. “And I’d be doing a lot better if you let me get back to sleep.”

Mike cringed, he really knew how to work it. Catch him contemplating suicide over this conversation as soon as it ended. “Oh shit, you were asleep? Of course you were it’s 2 am. God I’m so sorry. Forget I called, please.”

William smirked again. “… How about you call me tomorrow. Preferably before bed time.”

Mike couldn’t believe it. Wether it was for a mental health assessment or a not so embarrassing conversation, he couldn’t care less, this had to be a good thing. “… when is, uh, bed time?”

William rolled his eyes. “Goodnight, Mike.”

Mike cringed again. God, what an idiot. Steve was an intelligent man. He couldn’t keep acting like this if he wanted this to go well. “Goodnight Sir.”

William couldn’t lie, the use of the term sir coming from Mike, made him feel something he hadn’t felt in a long time. He couldn’t place it. “Call me Steve.”

Mike sighed with relief. “Goodnight… Steve.”