Work Text:
“…Michael?”
Michael jumps in his seat, sighing and rolling his eyes upon seeing Evan, standing in the doorway with a Fredbear plush held tightly in his arms. His eyes are wide and red, cheeks stained with light teartracks that aren’t a surprise to spot upon his physique anymore.
He catches his breath, turning his head slightly but not facing Evan completely. “Why are you awake at—“ He looks towards the clock, vision slightly blurry, “—4:26am?”
Evan bounces on his heels, looking down at the floor. If Michael didn’t know any better he would assume he was about to cry. “I couldn’t sleep…”
Michael narrows his eyes at him, then turns his head back around to stare down at the kitchen counter, picking at his cuticles. “Go back to bed, little weirdo. You have school in a few hours, and I really don’t want you crying when I try to wake you up.”
He hears Evan make a sound of frustration, stomping his small foot on the floor in an attempt to stand his ground. At Michaels side eye, though, he deflates, holding his plush tighter to his chest in fear.
Michael closes his eyes, putting his head in his arms while his elbows rest on the countertop. After a few minutes of silence he assumes that Evan is long gone, too intimidated to even try to challenge him. But to his surprise, a person makes themselves known by sitting next to him, spinning in the bar stool.
“Evan.” Michael warns, lightly kicking his leg. He can practically hear him puffing his cheeks in defiance.
“I’m too hungry to go back to sleep.” Evan whined, kicking his legs in the air. “Fredbear’s hungry too.”
He sighs, turning his head towards Evan but not yet lifting it from his hands. “Dad didn’t cook for you last night?”
Evan shakes his head, “No… he said there was food in the fridge but I couldn’t reach it.”
“I told you to wake me up for stuff like this. You know I don’t like it when you go to sleep without eating, Evan, don’t be dumb.“ Michael lifts his arm and ruffles Evan’s hair, earning a whine from him.
“I thought you would yell at me…” Evan whimpers, lightly slapping his arm away. His gaze lingers on it for a little while, oddly observant. “Did you get scratched by a cat again?”
His words surprise Michael, who squints his eyes in confusion for a second before quickly realizing what Evan meant. He rushes to hide his arm, coming up with an excuse believable enough for the tiny idiot to fall for.
“Ah, yeah, tried petting it. Evan, don’t tell Dad, alright? He doesn’t like cats.” Michael speaks as softly as he can, internally freaking out at the fact that Evan can’t keep his mouth shut. When he’s told to not do something he immediately rushes to do said thing.
Evan hums, voice slightly muffled as he brings his plush up to his face. “Okay. But… did you hurt yourself on purpose those other times?”
Michael opens his mouth, then closes it once he realizes he doesn’t know what to say. He scrambles to find a reply, trying to make it as convincing as possible. “Why would I hurt myself? You’re just thinking too much about it, calm it down a little, you’re giving me a headache.”
“But— But… When I told Ellie about it she got all mad and started saying that I’m stupid for believing you.” Evan sniffles, eyes beginning to water. “She said that it’s not a cat scratching you, and that you’re the one hurting yourself. And Ellie’s never wrong…”
Michael furrows his brows, at a loss for words. He doesn’t find it in himself to be mad at Evan for telling Elizabeth, instead he finds himself shocked that Elizabeth even knows what his marks mean. Yet, right as he starts thinking more about it, he hears Evan start crying.
“Oh my— Evan, stop…! It’s okay, be quiet already, you’re going to wake everyone up!” Michael whisper-yells, holding himself back from smacking Evan over the head to make him shut up.
Evan hiccups, holding onto Fredbear tightly and trying to stifle his cries. “I-I-I—“
“Hey, calm down, just tell me what’s wrong already so you can stop whining.” Michael groans, patting Evan’s back to stop him from choking on his own snot.
After a few moments, Evan finally stops crying, reduced to just sniffing and slight hiccuping. Michael sighs in relief, slumping his shoulders and leaning against the counter away from his crybaby mess of a brother who has since dirtied up his shirt with unknown fluids.
Evan stutters, voice still stuck in his throat from his earlier fit. Eventually, he calms down enough to where he can speak clearly. “I just don’t understand why you hurt yourself, Michael… You’re not supposed to do that, are you?”
Michael bites his lip, looking away. “Don’t worry about that stuff, Evan. You’ll understand when you’re older—“
“—And it’s not just Ellie who said that, either. I heard Papa talk to Uncle Henry about the same thing! He told Uncle Henry that he’s been seeing weird marks on you and that you’ve been sneaking around to find things to hurt yourself with…” Evan sniffles, balling up his fists. “I just don’t get it…!”
Michael stays quiet, not knowing what to say. He didn’t want anyone to know about his addiction, much less someone as young and impressionable as Evan, but he’s screwed, because now he’s crying over it and apparently his father and Uncle Henry know about it, too.
“…Go back to your room, idiot, or I’m waking you up late on purpose.” He huffs, standing up and heading over to the pantry to grab a cereal bar. “Eat this and stop crying, you look ugly when you do.”
Evan grabs the cereal bar and stuffs it in his pocket, crossing his arms and staring up at him. “I just wanna know why!”
“Evan, I already told you, you’ll get it when you’re older. Now go away.” Michael glares at him, making Evan shrink and scramble away to his room.
Michael places his head in his hands again, groaning. He wishes more than anything that he could fall asleep and never wake up so he can avoid all of his problems, but unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way. Now he has a worried Evan to deal with, and depending on how long ago Father and Uncle Henry’s conversation was, a lecture to sit through, too. He just hopes that he has enough time to prepare himself emotionally.
A few beats of silence pass before he makes his way over to his room, not pausing even after hearing Evan’s muffled cries. He’s too exhausted to care about anything else, and too busy silently praying for Evan to keep their encounter to himself.