It started just after the bite.
Evan was never really a "normal" kid by any stretch of the imagination. He cried easily and had an overactive imagination. Something both his siblings used to make fun of him for. (His heart ached when he thought about Elizabeth and Michael. They should be here with him. They shouldn't be…) But the bite made him worse.
His crying spells got better, sure, but his imagination was out of control. At least, that was what his parents (and later, therapists) seemed to think.
But Evan knew better than them.
It happened for the first time the day he woke up in the hospital. It was hazy now-the memories almost completely lost to time and the many pain medications he was on at the time-but Evan could distinctly remember the ambush of horrific memories. Memories that were so disgustingly vivid and stained with blood. The diner's security puppet lay curled around a blurry figure.
He hadn't known it at the time, but Charlie Emily had been found dead, in a pool of her own blood.
It took even longer for him to realize what triggered the memories.
Literal years passed by with him being harassed by these grotesque memories. Memories that weren't his own. His parents ( parent - mum left them after Lizzie…) weren't any help. They just ignored him or passed him off to the nearest shrink.
Michael-who grew to be a lot nicer after the incident-took him a little more seriously. Though, with his own spiraling mental health, and their father's constant overbearing presence, there wasn't much he could do to help.
It wasn't until he was a senior in high school that he got a better handle on what was happening to him.
The gift of hindsight.
The ability allowed him to look at certain events in a person's life. Most of the time, Evan had no control over which event he saw (which unfortunately meant he couldn't use the gift to become a detective, as it was too inconsistent). But the memory was always one that the person associated with a powerful feeling. Whether that was joy, fear, anger, hatred, or sorrow.
Those intense feelings triggered his ability. With a slight caveat.
The person who's memory he was viewing has to be experiencing that same emotion in real time, while he himself had to be experiencing the exact opposite of that emotion at the same time.
The realization helped stop the memories from overwhelming him. Evan moved on, graduated high school, and eventually started a family.
It would be years later, that he would finally understand the implication of the very first memory he was forced to endure. Because the only one in his hospital room was his father…
-x-x-x-
"Gregory!" Vanessa shouted as she jolted awake. The familiar yellowed-white painted ceiling of her bedroom greeted her like an old friend. It was a welcome relief, though she couldn't bring herself to fall back asleep.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, Vanessa inhaled deeply. "Everything is fine," she murmured, quietly.
One of her old therapists used to boast about the "power of positive thinking." At the time, she thought it was utter bullshit, but Vanessa would do anything to not think about the betrayed look in those amber eyes.
Vanessa shuffled into her bathroom. Even if she couldn't calm down; she could, at the very least, look semi-presentable by the time Luis and Greg-
She leaned over the bathroom sink, turning on the taps. Vanessa splashed her face, hoping the cold water might make her stupid, over exhausted, overly stressed brain work right for once in her life.
She stayed there, hunched over the sink. Water dripped down her face and onto porcelain white.
Only she- Vanessa thought to herself, just the slightest bit amused- could have found herself in such a predicament.
It was not a funny thought, but she found herself giggling anyway. So unlike the maniacal giggles Vanny would give, dancing around with a knife. In spite of that, the sound gave her pause.
Vanessa forced herself to look up at the mirror.
She tightened her grip on the sink, staring intently into the glass. Her tired reflection stared back. "That…that wasn't you." The words stirred something within Vanessa, a flame that'd been doused for far too long. "That wasn't you." With every word out her mouth, she could feel herself relax more and more.
By the time she heard knocking at her door, Vanessa was as calm as she had been that morning. The nightmare lingered in the back of her mind, but for now it was easy enough to banish it with all the others.
"Luis," she answered the door, "How was the-"
An older man stood in front of her. His brown hair, though peppered with graying-strands, and big eyes reminded her of Gregory. He smiled politely at her, extending a hand.
"Hello, I'm Evan Afton."
It was then that Luis made eye contact with her, as if trying to warn her of something.
"Nice to meet you…?" She shook his hand. "I'm sorry. Who are you?"
"Ah, sorry, I'm Gregory's dad," Evan said.
Any and all thoughts ground to a screeching halt. She stared at the face of the man whose partner she killed in cold blood (she tried to rationalize with herself that it wasn't her, but for some reason, the thought just felt empty).
Amber eyes.
A kind smile.
A mother.
Gregory's mother.
She took away his mom.
Distantly, Vanessa could hear Luis ushering them all inside the apartment. He gently guided Vanessa to the living room.
"I really have to thank you for looking out for him," Evan said. "Though I don't understand why you didn't go to the cops." There was no underlying accusation to his words, only a minor curiosity.
Vanessa settled on the couch, staring straight ahead. Her hands trembled, and she held them close to her chest, hoping to disguise her nervousness.
"That's a fair point," Luis answered for her, sitting down beside her.
Gregory-who had been quiet up to that point-wriggled out of Evan's arms. The minute he was free from his dad's arms, he hurried over to Vanessa. It would be endearing if the circumstances were better.
Vanessa avoided looking at him, even as he braced himself against her knees. Evan chuckled at the display, oblivious to the growing tension. Luis shifted beside her, laughing along (though it sounded forced and stilted).
Gregory giggled. He rested his chin on his arms, which lay in her lap. "Mama 'Nessa. Mama 'Nessa, look at me."
She did so - mostly out of habit, but also because she couldn't afford to seem suspicious. And- oh, no!
Her heart dropped into her stomach.
Amber eyes.
Amber eyes.
R.
Vanessa screamed.
-x-x-x-
Evan watched in mute horror as that girl-the one that kept his son for all these weeks without phoning the police-lunged for Maria. He knew from experience that trying to interact with the memory did nothing. It was pointless and just resulted in self-loathing.
He still did it anyway.
Evan raced over to Maria, but…but it was too late.
She…she was…
And there was blood. Everywhere.
There was a crooked smile on Vanessa's face as she thrust the knife into Maria's chest again and again and-
He looked at Maria. The love of his life. Mother of his child. One of the only people that ever seemed to understand him.
Her eyes-the same eyes their son inherited-stared blankly up at the ceiling. Dead. Lifeless.
The memory let him go, and Evan stumbled back, heart thundering in his chest and blood rushing in his ears. He came to his senses, frozen to his seat.
"You…you killed her," he whispered, voice hoarse. He didn't have the energy to argue, and he really didn't want Gregory hearing what happened to his mother.
"It wasn't her," Luis said, deciding not to question how Evan knew this. Which was just fine with him, Evan didn't think he could answer how or why he knew the things he did.
"I'm so sorry," Vanessa cried. "Gregory, I-I'm so, so sorry." He watched her lean towards Gregory. Those hands that had been covered in blood. Those hands that were getting closer to his son.
"Mama 'Nessa…?"
Evan practically jumped out of the chair (it tipped over with a heavy thud, startling Gregory enough for him to look back at Evan). His heart hammered in his chest, seeing his son so close to a murderer. "Get away from him!"
-x-x-x-
Vanessa loudly sobbed, tears blurring her vision. She couldn't force herself to look at Gregory. The boy continued to poke at her, trying to get her attention.
"Mama 'Nessa…?"
"Get away from him!"
The wooden kitchen chair Luis brought out for their guest fell on its side. She heard Evan's heavy footsteps stomping over to her.
She murmured apology after apology. None of it made any sense, even to her own ears. It was too much and not enough. Vanessa rubbed at her eyes, hoping to rid herself of the horrid images.
Evan scooped up his son. He glowered at her, eyes narrowed. He raised a clenched fist.
Out of reflex, Vanessa flinched back. Next to her, Luis started to move, arm blocking Evan's aim.
Except…the hit never came.
Evan grunted, shifting Gregory in his arms. "You…killed his mother…you're a…a…" He said, faltering. A thousand different emotions crossed his face. Sorrow, rage, regret… And Vanessa knew she was the reason why. "You're a monster," Evan finished. "Stay away from us."
Monster.
She was a….
MONSTER.
No, she couldn't. She wasn't. No, no-
Vanessa got to her feet, ready to defend herself. But two amber eyes stopped her in her tracks. Gregory clung to his father, who's hurrying to the door. He stared at her, over his dad's shoulder. Confused.
Right before the door slammed shut behind them, Gregory waved 'bye-bye' to her. Despite how terrible she felt, Vanessa managed to wave back at the toddler.
As soon as the door clicked shut, she collapsed in Luis' arms. Screaming and crying.
And Luis held her through all of it.
He always did.
-x-x-x-
The trip back to his apartment took an hour, and by the time they arrived, Gregory was conked out in the backseat. Carefully, Evan unbuckled his son.
He still felt on edge, the image of Maria's lifeless eyes were seared into his brain. He tried not to think about it, choosing instead to focus on their son. His only remaining family member.
"I'm so glad you're okay," Evan whispered, tucking his son into his bed. His apartment was small, and the last time he had Gregory overnight was over a year ago. Back then, his son had a crib in the corner of the room.
A crib that Evan broke during a particularly sorrowful filled night, following the news report on his son.
So, for right now, this would have to do.
-x-x-x-
Gregory was more energetic than Evan remembered. His little boy jumped around like a rabbit, hopping in place while he waited for his father to pay attention to him. It was endearing (and a little annoying, especially because he had to get this job application in).
"Go play, Greg," he said, gesturing vaguely over to the pile of baby toys Evan brought over from Maria's house. None of them looked particularly interesting, and most of them were for young toddlers and babies. But he just needed a moment to think.
"Daddy." Gregory yanked on his shirt sleeve. "I wanna play. Come play with me."
"I'm busy."
His son huffed, finally leaving him alone. Evan breathed a sigh of relief, returning to the application. He's been relying on his savings to get him through these past months. It wasn't much to start off this, but he made it work. But now that he has Gregory….
"Daddy!" Gregory yelled. "Look at me!"
Evan slouched in the seat. This was going to be a long day.
-x-x-x-
Thank you for your interest, but we've chosen to move forward with other applicants.
Evan sighed, heavily, resting his head in his arms. This was the fourth rejection email today, and the ones that didn't reject him, have pay that's insultingly low. Even working two or three of them wouldn't be enough, especially factoring in childcare (he wasn't sure how much he could actually trust other people to watch Gregory after what happened last time, but Evan doubted his employer would let him bring his son to work).
Why was parenting so hard?
A cry broke through the quietness in the apartment. He was on his feet in an instant, running to his bedroom.
Gregory was sitting up in bed, sobbing. "Daddy!" His tiny arms reached out for Evan. He hiccuped. "Daddy!"
Evan stared back at his son, unable to move an inch. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the part of him that remembered being a father screamed at him, urging him forward. To comfort his son. To hold him.
If Maria was here…
Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. His throat tightened.
If Maria was here, she'd know what to do.
"I'm so sorry, Gregory," he murmured.
He locked himself in the bathroom, covering his ears to block out his son's cries. He sat against the door, squeezing his eyes shut.
The lights flickered.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, again. Though, he had no idea who he was apologizing to. He had no idea parenting would be so difficult on his own. It had all seemed so easy back then.
"I…I can't do it. I can't take care of Gregory." The words felt like poison, leaving his mouth. He'd just got his son back only to what? Give him away, because things were tough. Maria would've been disappointed in him. She'd never give up on their son. Their child. Their baby.
The lights turned off. Evan jumped, reaching for the light switch. He didn't like the dark. It reminded him of being trapped. Of the animatronics. Of him….
The lights turn back on, blinding him. A bright white light fills the tiny room - way brighter than the half-burnt out dollar store light bulbs provided. He opened his eyes, using his hand as a shield against the light.
"...Maria…?"