Evan jolted awake and sat up in his bed. He was drenched in sweat and tears fell from his eyes. He always had nightmares about the lifeless robotic mascot of Fredbear's, but his nightmares were becoming more frequent. He held his blanket close as he began to sob uncontrollably.
William was already awake and heard Evan scream. He urgently opened the door to Evan's bedroom and turned on the overhead light.
"Are you okay, Evan?" he asked. Evan could only look at him and cry. William approached him and sat on the side of his bed. "What's the matter?"
"I-I had a nightmare," he stuttered through his sobs.
"What about?" William's voice was soft and comforting. He was a good father to Evan and even to Elizabeth, but rather cold toward Michael. Especially since he started to scare Evan with a mask based on his favorite character from Fredbear's, Foxy. William had made that mask for Michael's birthday but now regretted it.
Evan looked toward his closet, and whispered, "Foxy..."
William glanced over to the closet, then back at his son. "Evan, there's nothing in there."
Evan's gaze remained fixed on the closet doors.
"But, if it will make you feel better," William said as he stood and started toward the closet. "I'll check."
As he neared the closet, Evan pulled his blanket over his head and waited.
William opened the doors and turned back toward his son. "Evan, look."
Slowly, Evan peered out from underneath the blanket. His father called him over, to which Evan shook his head.
"It's okay, Evan," he called again, smiling at him. "If it weren't safe, I wouldn't call you."
Reluctantly, Evan got out of bed and approached his father. Shaking, he peered around the door to find absolutely nothing.
"I told you." William smiled down at him. Evan's soft eyes looked back up at him, and he grinned in relief.
William knelt to his height, and asked, "Be honest with me. What's been bothering you?"
Evan looked down and held his right arm shyly. "Y-you're not around anymore. A-and, when you are, a-all you talk about is work."
William, shocked to hear this, sighed. "I...suppose I have been spending long hours at the diner. It's just that I'm excited to finish these suits Henry and I are making."
He paused for a moment, then continued. "How about I get you a friend to comfort you when I'm not around? You'll like him. I promise you."
Evan grinned again, then said, "It won't be you, though."
"No, it won't be," William replied. "But, he will be close. I promise you, you'll love him."
Evan continued to grin. "Okay, Dad."
"Now, it's almost time for school. Are you settled down enough?"
"Yeah," Evan answered while chuckling.
"Then, go eat and get ready."
"Okay, Dad," Evan said. He hugged his father before heading toward the kitchen.
William just stood amid Evan's room and sighed. "What are you doing, William?" he asked himself before following his son toward the kitchen.
On the other side of Hurricane, a man had also awoken from a nightmare, only his was much worst than a child's nightmare; he'd dreamt of the horrors he'd experienced from the steamy jungles and muddy swamps of Vietnam. He saw the faces of those he trained with as they were blown off. He saw teenagers, both American and Vietnamese, get blown to pieces, leaving only red and intestines in their place. Worst of all, he saw the Hell he endured when he returned. He had not returned as a hero like the veterans before him, nor were the dead celebrated as the dead from other wars. Now, the living were spit upon and the dead were cursed. It was a hellish time to be a soldier.
Henry grabbed his spectacles and wore them, wiping the sweat from his brow. He forced himself to calm down and glanced at the clock. It read 6:05 AM.
He rubbed his bearded face and mumbled to himself, "I gotta get Charlie ready for school. C'mon, Henry."
He rose and went to the bathroom. He peered into his own tired eyes in the mirror. With this new business and his violent past, he barely recognized himself. He washed his face as he heard a tiny pair of feet approach him.
"Good morning, Daddy!" she said in her usual upbeat voice. He had no idea how his daughter became a morning person. Ironically, he never was. Even during his service in the Marines, he found it difficult to wake up on schedule. He had to have one of his friends roll him out of his bunk in the morning.
He adjusted his glasses, and said, "Morning, baby."
"Are you okay? You look like you've been crying..."
She was observant. Henry was proud of that. Yes, it was true that his eyes were red from tears, but he did not want Charlotte to know why. She was just a child, after all. She did not need to know the hell Henry had been through.
"It's nothing for you to worry about, sweetheart," Henry said.
Charlotte grabbed his hands, and said, "Daddy, it's okay. Everybody has bad dreams!"
Choking on tears, he sat down on the toilet seat and hugged her. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Charlie..."
"Probably die," Charlotte said. She certainly had her mother's sassiness.
Henry laughed. "Probably forget my name! Anyway, you should get ready for school."
"I wonder if Evan's gonna be there..." Charlotte said.
Henry pulled back and smiled at her. "You like him, huh?"
Charlotte nodded. "He hasn't been himself, though."
"Well, he's probably going through a lot with that rotten brother of his and everything," Henry said, smiling. "Just keep looking out for him. Kids like him don't usually have an easy time finding friends."
A/N: Thank you all for bearing through another chapter! The year in this one is 1982. One more year until the infamous 1983... I hope you all enjoyed getting to know our main characters a bit better! Please, feel free to leave a review for this here chapter, and favorite and follow both this story and me for more content like this! As always, God loves you!