CW: Very heavy topics, I'd advise that if you are not comfortable with the subject matter of prior entries that you do not read this one.

"I love you, kiddo," 

Oh how Michael wished that William truly meant it in a healthy way, in a non corrupted and controlling way.

At least the ab*se had never gotten worse than the belt or the hair pulling. Michael was glad for that, though, he was aware none of the things he had put up with were favorable or good conditions. 

Jeremy had been right, and now he was in a coma in the hospital because of Michael, he blamed himself for getting Jere put in the hospital.

William used the excuse of his fatherly love as a way to keep Michael chained to his control, and to be obedient.

Did Michael believe William had real care for him? Of course...But none of it mattered, none of it mattered when the love in question was so backwards and so twisted and screwy that it may as well not exist at all.

The ab*se never went more than psychological...Verbal, physical, and psychological.

It was all still bad though...indeed it was...His father's love was smothering, selfish and perverse...He was trying to keep Michael tied up in his strings like a puppet.

Michael hated the word punishment now, because it meant the worst from William, it meant a bad ass whooping, or even not being fed.

William's "love" was Michael's hate, Michael hated the smothering love he recieved.

He just wanted to be loved normally without a catch to it, without having to trade something in return.

"You understand why I punish you don't you?"

Every... Single... F**king...Time, every time William "disciplined" him, he'd ask Michael that same damn question over and over.

Or some variation of it...every time.

"You're just a little lamb to me, you're safe here from the dangers out there,"

There was no danger, nothing in the world could be as caring but cruel as William was to him. 

William was the big bad wolf, not the shepard like he wanted Michael to believe, no matter where he, the lamb, ran...He could not escape the jaws of the wolf that hunted him down and sought to feed on his insecurities and fears, slowly draining him of energy, and making him succumb to the hollowness eating him up inside.

If William was the wolf, then, who was the shepard?

It was Henry, Henry was the shepard...Henry would lead him to a safer field, his house.

Uncle Henry, that's what he had said for Michael to refer to him as. Uncle Henry would keep him safe away from the beast that preyed on his deepest fears. 

Like a flashlight sweeping away the shadows and cutting through the night. 

"You will always be mine," 

(Excuse the line ripped directly from FNAF movie 2, I just needed it for inspo)

He would always be William's son, William was the only family he'd ever known, he was so close to William because he was the only one who had ever been there for him, his real parents were dead, Davey and Elizabeth had believed that Michael was a monster in their basement, that was...until they died too. 

He was trying to reach out for freedom, so close that he could almost touch it, but alas it remained out of his grasp.

And now that William was dead set on killing Michael and placing his body inside of the animatronic that made William's career, he was afraid William had been right in his words.

"Foxy is your favorite...Don't you know foxes die alone in the snow, while the rabbits burrow and are safe?"

He had said that to him once, but it had stuck in Michael's psyche for a long time, it was true that foxes died alone in the cold, but the cold felt welcoming, the cold being sleep, the sleep that no doubt he would die in from sheer lack of it. 

He didn't want to be safe anymore, he just wanted to lay down and sleep forever...Like a fox...He'd already been foxtrapped by William by baiting him into false security.

Now all that was left was for Michael to either give into the cold, or go on to fight.

He had to fight, for the spirits of those poor children, the 5 of them, and for Charlie too. 

And Davey, and Elizabeth.

"Are you trying to hurt me? Was I such a bad father, that I deserve to be ignored? I did everything for you, I fed you, clothed you, sheltered you, LOVED you, and you turn me away?"

The gaslighting, God the gaslighting, it was one of the worst parts of the mistreatment, William truly believed that he had cared for Michael perfectly and had never left a single mark on him. 

But he had, of course he had, that bastard had given him plenty of bruises and scars over the years, but they were moot now, no point in complaining about them to Uncle Henry. 

Michael had conflicting beliefs on William, he believed William truly did care about him, but in a controlling and corrupted way, in a "No one can whip the donkey but me," sort of way. 

He used Michael like a circus animal, for his own entertainment and amusement when he drugged him with the purple smoke and deprived him of sleep.

The way he'd laugh cruelly as Michael heard through the vents.

He cared for Michael in more ways than one, he may have loved him as a son, but he also saw Michael as a test subject.

A good little lab rat, that's right, that's what William saw him as, a submissive and "willing" test subject that he grew to genuinely care about obsessively, praying that he wouldn't escape his containment like a dangerous animal. 

But Michael wasn't willing, he was an unwitting participant in all of this, but William forced a smile out of him.

Indeed when someone noticed William's suspiciousness and called the cops, he'd let Michael upstairs and bribe him to give the cops a big smile and to act happy, while changing the boy's appearance as best he could to avoid people recognizing him, in return for better food for the night and more sleep.

Of course, William made sure Davey and Elizabeth hid in their rooms, he'd heard William tell the two that the basement monster could change into one of them and would eat them up if they made eye contact, of course it was bullshit, Michael knew.

He'd learnt the routine, smile just enough to look happy, but not suspicious, it wasn't hard to remember.

William always made sure to have a slightly tight grasp on Michael's shoulder as a warning in case he f**ked up. 

But Michael always made sure he knew the script correctly.

He remembered the first and last time he slipped up, how William had...locked him in a closet, after forcing him to press his palm to the stove. 

God it hurt like a b*tch, so he never f**ked up again, he could still hear himself pounding on the closet door and begging to come out, but William had soundproofed the damn thing.

He was in there for four straight hours, he had soiled himself by then, William's excuse? "You shouldn't have drank so much water," he had been so very thirsty, he couldn't help it.

Of course there were times when William wasn't so cruel, sometimes he would read a story to him, other times console him through nightmares.

He wished there was more of that, less cruelty and more genuine love and care. 

But it were only a wish.

Only a wish...

He wished.

Maybe he couldn't save himself, but Uncle Henry could, Michael looked at the ceiling, and began to smile, tomorrow was another day.

He would no longer be drowning in an embrace.