Archon Quest: Custom Night [FNAF/Genshin]

Chapter 2: If You Make a Mistake...

Inside the dimly lit dining room, Elizabeth winced. She squirmed under her older brother's touch, willing the experience to be over as soon as possible.

"Would you quit moving around so much?" he snapped, "I can't tie these if you keep shifting."

"Maybe if you stopped squeezing me," she protested as she watched him wrap a white cloth around her arm.

"Shut up already, you and Evan are annoying me."

Evan pouted from his seat on the other side of Michael; he was the one who insisted on patching everyone up himself, so why was he being so bitter about it? Frankly, it was bothering the young boy, although he would never say anything. He thought his sister deserved to be treated with respect, but then again, Michael always acted this way. Maybe it was an older brother thing...

Zhongli approached the table, two bowls in hand. He stood in front of his own chair and placed one down, then reached his hand out to offer the other to Evan. Instead of taking it, the boy ran to the other side of the table, settling next to Zhongli. Michael noticed and shot him a glare, but said nothing more.

"Hey, be good you two. Remember that we only booked this place. If we mess it up, I'll have to pay for it," Childe called from the kitchen.

"Michael's being mean!" Elizabeth called back, and Michael grimaced.

"I'm trying to help you!"

The young man walked into the dining room, balancing three bowls in his arms, "Alright, alright. That's enough. I—"

He grunted, concentrated on keeping the bowls stable as he placed them down on the table. When he was content with his work, he sighed, "—I'll patch her up instead."

"I'm already done, you arse," Michael shot back, "Evan, don't eat that."

The boy gave him a poker face, "Why?"

"How do we know they're not trying to poison us, hm?"

Childe blinked, taking a seat at the head of the table. He meant to respond, but Elizabeth beat him to it.

"Michael, don't be stupid."

"Seriously! How do we know? We just met these people. I wouldn't be surprised if they have some weird vendetta against us! There's no reason for them to treat us kindly. I don't trust them, and I don't trust this."

"Archons," Childe rolled his eyes, "Fine. Watch this."

He grabbed the spoons from each siblings' bowl, downing them all at once. He made sure the contents slid from the spoons right into his mouth without touching his lips, another thing he was sure Michael would complain about.

"See? No poison. I wouldn't have eaten it if it could kill me," Childe shrugged. Michael grimaced, but he couldn't ignore the hunger in his stomach. He watched his siblings chow down at a rapid speed, then followed along himself, slowly slurping up the contents of the bowl. It had been so long since he last ate that it felt like the greatest meal of his life.

"Mm, Michael," Zhongli piped up as he swallowed his food, "Don't bother patching them up next time. You don't need to."

"What are you talking abou..." Michael trailed off, looking across the table to his brother whose black eye was healing right before his eyes. Furrowing his eyebrows, he touched his own face, which had a large gash across it. He felt the wound close under his finger, and his eyes widened.

"Woah, that is so cool!" Elizabeth glowed.

"That's just how things work here," Childe shrugged, "Most meals can give you some sort of boost, more often than not they'll heal you. Though, there are other types, like ones that can increase strength."

Michael made note of it in his head; he wanted to try that one out at some point.

"So, where are you guys from, anyway?" Childe continued.

"Would you believe us if we said we were sort of from another world?" the girl responded sheepishly.

"Yup."

Zhongli agreed with his friend's matter-of-fact response, "It's certainly not the strangest thing we've seen, in fact, far from it. Just today, we were running errands for our friend from another world when you three came along. Though, she fits in a little better than the rest of you. I don't have any suspicions that you came from the same place as her."

Michael and Elizabeth were visibly disappointed at this, but Evan picked at his food, unbothered.

"I don't think I would want to go home anyway."

Confused, Zhongli glanced at the other two siblings, who looked horrified in their own right.

"Evan," Elizabeth started, knowing his comment would ignite the flame that was Michael Afton. The aforementioned brother put his hand out in front of her.

"No," he scolded the both of them, shooting a look of 'speak another word and you're dead' to Evan. The little boy backed into his chair, instinctively clutching to a Fredbear plush that wasn't there.

He's eerily quiet, Childe examined Michael. He readied his dual weapons, worried the teen might lash out.

Zhongli turned to the boy, "Evan, what do you mean you wouldn't want to go home? Why would you not?"

Shakily, he faced the man and glared at his brother from the corner of his eye, "Father is a bad person, and Mum is—"

Michael slammed his hands down on the table, silverware clinking together, "Shut your mouth, you ungrateful piece of shit!"

When he lunged across the table to tackle his brother, Childe moved to stop him, but Zhongli was faster than them both. A monument grew from the ground, and Michael's face crashed into it. He grunted in pain as he fell backwards and held his nose.

"What is wrong with you?" Elizabeth yelled, slapping her brother's arm.

"There will be no rough-housing in my sight," Zhongli demanded in a booming voice, "And that includes you, Elizabeth."

"Mr. Zhongli, the table..." Childe rubbed his forehead, looking at the hole his friend had created. No doubt he'd be the one paying for it...

"You're not our father!" Michael shot back.

"And somehow he's doing a better job than Father ever did!" Evan yelped, tears starting to streak his face.

"Enough!" Zhongli yelled over the commotion, "I have lived for thousands of years, and somehow, you make me feel like I have aged a thousand more!"

From the corner of his eye, Zhongli could see Evan sniffling, and Childe rushed to his aid, holding the boy's head while he consoled him with comical whispers. The man sighed when he heard high-pitched laughter, his body relaxing. He finally opened his eyes to see a flushed teenager digging his nails into his palms to stop himself from crying.

"Michael," Zhongli began, "I apologize. I have no insight on your lives before this, but I won't tolerate you hurting anyone. There is a time and a place for violence, and it is not here."

"I don't give a shit!" the teen retorted as he hastily ran towards the bathroom, slamming the door and leaning against it.

He didn't know why he couldn't control himself. He knew his father was awful; it wasn't a hard conclusion to come to. After all, he had the scars to show for it.

Michael didn't know how to show love, but he knew it existed in him. It's why he had no wraps around his body; when it came down to it, he'd give up anything for his siblings, even his own safety. So why couldn't he treat them well in the moments between? Why could he only care about them when his world was caving in?

He grew up with a loving mother and a might-as-well-be absent father. His mother couldn't make up for that. She couldn't make up for his manipulation, either. And when manipulation turned to physicality, and love turned to depression...

Michael was alone, and he didn't love anyone.

He couldn't risk it again.