madwoman || william afton

chapter seventeen

A chocolate croissant in her hand and a coffee in the other, (Y/N) walked briskly to Fredbear's Family Diner. Taking a large, unceremonious bite out of the pasty, she washed it down with a steaming gulp of her breakfast beverage. She didn't like multi-tasking like this, but was left with no choice. At the crack of dawn, she'd silently slipped out of Henry's house. She didn't know why he wanted her to leave so early, but she couldn't really care any less. It was a one time thing, and hopefully she'd never have to sleep in that musty room ever again, or have breakfast in chilly morning air. Tonight, she'd be tucked in her fluffy covers back at the Afton household, and tomorrow, she'd eat a whole stack of William's award-winning pancakes.

William... How was she going to face him? Would he be upset with her? Would she get the silent treatment? Would he fire her on the spot? Would he... kill her?

Overthinking wouldn't get her anywhere, and so she shook her head, had the last few sips of her coffee and trashed the empty cup. She'd finally arrived at the restaurant and her nerves were chewing at her like starved rats. Henry wasn't going to be here; it'd be just her and William. She knew he was here because his car was haphazardly parked in the parking lot. Okay, breathe. She could do this. She could fix this.

Checking herself out in the glass, she patted down any wrinkles in her clothes and brushed the croissant crumbs off her face. Pressing on the glass doors, (Y/N) stepped into the establishment. It was pin-drop silent, almost uncomfortably so. Usually, Henry would be rambling about something, and childish melodies would play softly in the background. She half expected Afton to put on some depressing piano, but deafening silence was definitely more his style.

Heading to his office first, she was unbothered to not find him here. She reluctantly checked the backroom, pleasantly surprised to find it neat and clean, as if a bloodied corpse wasn't occupying it only yesterday. At least he was a hygienic murderer... a green flag, thankfully. Closing the door, (E/C) eyes scanned the empty halls, unsure of the missing man's whereabouts.

Guess she'd have to comb through the entire pizzeria, huh? Ugh.

After ruthlessly searching around for about twenty minutes, (Y/N) jogged to the saferoom. It was her last hope, as she held her breath and pushed the door open. A wave of humidity washed over her, stepping away from the thick, damp air. A quiet drip-drop resonated in the room, and an earthy smell wafted out of it. It was odd, in simple terms. Unable to see in pitch darkness, she rubbed her fingers across the walls in search of a light switch, wincing at the moist surface. Clicking it on, the bulb blinked a couple times, shone as brightly as it possibly could, and then dimmed to a soft hue. She could just make out the outline of these huge blocks: three of them, metallic, appearing to be large washing machines at best. Perhaps that's how they washed the animatronic suits, or something. Squinting, she scanned the room a second time, in the hopes that she'd the very someone she was looking for.

Sighing, (Y/N) turned on her heel to leave, when she caught a glint and swiveled back, eyes wide.

There he was.

William was huddled next to an empty Spring Bonnie that was worn down with fading fur, stitched-in patches and a missing ear. He was tightly holding his knees to his chest, gaze fixated on nothing in particular in front of him, breathing level and hushed – as if he didn't want to be found at all. He'd purposely sat in the corner of the room where the light didn't reach; she'd only noticed him there thanks to the polished shine of his black slacks.

Glancing behind her, the woman slowly walked back in, carefully hopping over murky puddles and unidentifiable objects. Lowering herself, she adopted a similar position to him, loosely wrapping her arms over her knees and resting her head on them. (E/C) orbs danced over his stoic features, lips down-turning at her discoveries. He looked a dire mess! Eyebags heavier than ever, eyes glowing a faint red, creases deep on his forehead and frown-lines engraved on his skin. She wouldn't doubt there was more, but that was all she could make out in the dim lighting.