Not Guilty // William Afton

forty •

"It's.. not Dylan." A deep, british voice spoke from the other side.

Willow slowly brought her chair back to normal as she furrowed her eyebrows and placed her chips on the desk.

William had been looking down at his desk. He knew that voice sounded somewhat familiar, but he couldn't make it out.

"We're you expecting anybody?" Willow whispered.

Before William could respond, the door knob slowly began to turn.

Who did this guy think he was entering William's office without his permission?

They stared at the door.

Willow drew herself back in the chair and stared at the man before her in complete shock. She couldn't speak.

William's breath had hitched as he raised his head to look at the guy in front of him. He couldn't speak either.

The guy, surprisingly, had seemed a little surprised himself.

What was the guy thinking? Well, he was only thinking about how long it's been since he's last seen his son. He was just a poorly treated 15 year old boy, and now, he seemed like this handsome man who grew up to be way better than his father could have been. He had also taken a moment to realize who this lady sitting next to him was. It took a moment for him to remember her name, before remembering Willow.

To him, Willow was just some random friend William would hang around with. But moments when he was sober, which was rare, he would find himself smiling at the two's antics.

But father like son. They had something in common, and only William wouldn't feel regret for it.

His father had only wanted to hug him and cry as if this was happy moment, but he knew his son wanted nothing to do with him. And he could only try to fix what happened 12 years ago.

"Hello, son." Williams father stood straight and gave him a faint smile.

And how was William feeling in this moment? Well, he was feeling all sorts of things. Confused, angry, suicidal, homicidal, anxious. But all at the same time, he just wanted to cry.

And Willow. Willow had only knew what was going to happen next. She could either sit back and watch, throw both of them in prison, give his father a piece of her mind, or break it up.

But what fun would it be to stop the two? Just as much as William, she wanted to see his father hurt just as much as him. She would even do it for him.

Poor Willow. She doesn't realize just how sick she's very, slowly becoming. So quick to deny.

"Before you, I don't know, throw a swing at me which I very so deserve, I just need a moment to talk. You don't have to say anything. I understand." Williams father said.

William could only feel his eye twitch. He was staring knives at the man.

Williams father sighed. "You have no idea how much I regret that night. How much I regret treating you, my son, who I very deeply missed and only hoped you were okay while I was in the cells. I should have never framed you, and then went the next 3 years sitting on my couch while god knows what happened to you when you were locked up. I let alcohol get the best of me. Nor you, or your mother deserved that."