Chapter 38
A/N: Hey everyone! Welcome back! Glad to see that everyone enjoyed the last chapter. And it's good to see everyone back. Anyways, remember, I don't own YJ or FNAF, just this story.
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Telepathy/Flashbacks
Location: Unknown, December 15, 09:54EDT
His head hurt.
That was the first thing Michael registered as consciousness slowly began to return to him.
The next thing he registered was cold.
It seemed to be coming from everywhere around him. Like ice had been injected into his blood.
"Aw, are you waking up baby?" a deep voice cooed.
Mike's brows furrowed, trying to find the strength to peel his eyes open. That voice…he knew that voice. He just…couldn't remember where. God. It hurt too much to think. His head was killing him.
Fingers slowly carded through his hair, momentarily relieving the throbbing pain in his skull. "Shh, I know. I know, pet," the voice purred again. "Just relax. It'll all be over soon."
What would be over soon?
What was going on?
With some effort, Mike began to slowly peel his eyes open. Only to immediately regret it as he found himself looking up into brilliant white light blaring down on him. Wincing in pain, he moved to block the blinding light, however that was prevented by the feeling of cold metal digging into his wrist.
And, suddenly, Mike was wide awake.
Everything around him was blurry as he forcibly ripped his eyes open. Blinking quickly, he tried to get his gaze to focus faster. His eyes flickering around the nearly all-white room in a desperate attempt to get an idea of what was happening.
His first thought was that he'd been sent to the hospital again. However, that thought was quickly tossed out the window as he realized he'd been strapped down. And not in the way medical patients typically were when they needed to be restrained for their own safety.
No. Instead of soft fabric ensnaring his wrists, he could feel almost half of his forearm pinned down by thick, cold metal that left barely any room to move. And those weren't the only ones either. Now that he was more aware, Mike could feel the near freezing steel holding down other parts of his body. Completely pinning him down to the icy table he was lying on. Effectively immobilizing him entirely beyond any small movements or flinches.
However, he was most aware of the chilled collar ensnaring his throat. The soft rattle of chains echoing in his ears almost every time he tried to make any significant movement of his neck. It almost drowned out the constant hum telling him that it was no ordinary restraint.
One didn't have to be a genius to realized he was completely and utterly fucked with the addition of the inhibitor collar around his neck.
"Are you back with me, pup?"
Michael's heart stopped in his chest. And, with bated breath, he slowly turned his head back to his left, stomach churning in dread as he spotted the familiar form of William Afton smiling down at him.
It was then he remembered what happened. That he'd been lured into a trap. Ambushed by a kid wearing his baby brother's face. Drugged and kidnapped by his serial killer father.
As if entirely oblivious or all too aware of his son's thoughts, William's hand continued running through his hair languidly. Occasionally stopping to play with a stray lock. "You cut your hair." He tucked a bit behind his ear, "Pity. With your hair long you looked more like me."
His throat felt dry. Too dry to speak without it being painful. However, if he could, Mike probably would've spat some stupid remark about that being exactly why he'd cut his hair shorter. It probably would've pissed the narcissistic bastard off, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had long accepted that he would never do anything right by the man no matter how hard he tried. The only difference was that now he had absolutely no desire to make him happy.
And, it appeared that his change in attitude had not gone unnoticed.
The fingers mockingly carding through his hair suddenly curled, yanking painfully and nearly slamming his head onto the medical table. "Michael, don't tell me that you're not happy to see me?"
He didn't bother to dignify that with an answer. Not that he needed to. There was no doubt that the man already knew the answer anyways.
A fact that was proven the moment pain exploded across his face as William backhanded him.
"Honestly, Michael," his father sighed, "why must you always make me hurt you?" The hand that had just slapped him gently reached up to cup his face, thumb softly stroking his stinging cheek. "I don't like hurting you, puppy. But it's the only way I can get you to listen. I promise I wouldn't if you would just do what I asked. You understand, right?"
The teen bit back an audible scoff. He heard that line before. He believed that lie before.
Mike would be the first to admit he was rarely the smartest person in the room, but even he wasn't that stupid. Not anymore at least.
And, clearly, William seemed to reach the same conclusion, as the man's smile swiftly turned into a scowl. The hand cradling his face shifting to squeeze his jaw painfully, "You understand, right Michael?"
"Fuck you."
Fury flashed in his father's eyes just before pain exploded in his head. A large hand covering his mouth and nose, keeping him from breathing as its owner slammed his head into the metal of the medical table. "After everything I've done for you, you dare speak to me that way?" the man spat, seeming to press some of his weight on the teen's face, as if he were trying to press his skull through the steel table. "I did everything for you and your siblings!" he slammed the boy's head into the metal again, "And you just had to ruin all of it."
Against his better judgement, but with a bit of satisfaction, Mike managed to bite his attacker's palm.
Something which seemed to do the trick, as the action caused the man to yank his hand away from the teen's face. Finally allowing him to breathe and catch his breath.
Though, that didn't last long before a hand to wrapped around his throat, his father's snarling face looming over him. "One last chance, Michael: Be a good boy and apologize. Now. Otherwise, I can't promise your stay is going to be a pleasant one."
As if any of this was going to be pleasant to begin with.
So, instead of giving him the answer he wanted, Mike spat into William's face.
"…Very well."
Pushing off him, the teen coughed as the pressure on his throat was relieved. His gaze trailing after the man as he turned to pick up something from the nearby counter.
"You know Michael, I was going to be nice to you. But, seeing as you aren't going to be cooperative…" William whipped around, wearing a smirk as he slammed a knife into the teen's stomach up to the hilt, "I suppose that's none of my concern, now." A wide grin split the man's face, "Don't worry, I made sure your healing factor isn't inhibited. So, we're going to be able to have a lot of fun."
-.-
20:47EDT
William stepped out of the lab, wiping away the blood staining his hands. Today had been quite fruitful. More fruitful than he expected.
It was one thing to suspect that his theories had been proven correct, it was another to confirm them.
And, at long last, William had confirmed them.
Like he thought, Michael's healing factor was indeed the product of his experiments. Because, despite what he said, there was no way to completely turn it off. No with an inhibitor collar at least. There were ways to slow it down, yes. Below freezing temperatures and electricity did that wonderfully. To the point where it almost seemed like it had stopped. But it wasn't fully deactivated.
It couldn't be. Not with the remnant still coursing through the teen's body.
And that wouldn't change anytime soon. Because Michael didn't need remnant infusions anymore. The boy now had so much in his body it was as if he became his own source. Even now, he didn't fully understand it. Though he wasn't in a rush to. He did need to be thorough after all.
But that didn't mean he didn't find the change completely and utterly fascinating.
As for the rest of his powers, there did appear to be some hint to it being genetic as he and Lex theorized. On a quick genetic scan, he did find a few genes, that when compared to his own DNA, were unusually active. Of course, he would still need a large victim pool to study this possible phenomenon, but it was at least a good preliminary start.
Savage and the Brain at least appeared to be quite pleased about the news of his discovery.
He was looking forwards to working with them in further exploring theory. But, until then, he would have to amuse himself by wrangling his firstborn back into submission.
Something which Michael seemed to have decided to make as difficult as possible. Not that it was surprising, his son had always been unruly and disobedient. He had always needed a firm hand to teach him his place. The only difference was that now the League and Henry had only made it worse than ever before. In the past, it had only taken a swift beating to remind the boy of where he belonged. But now…even after hours of literal torture the boy was still defiant.
William would almost be impressed if it weren't so irritating.
He had had to muzzle the brat because he couldn't stand the cursing anymore. Where he learned such vulgar language he'll never know, but it was yet another thing he would have to correct. Frankly, he was almost wondering if it would be easier to just have Psimon come in and wipe his memories. It wouldn't be as fun, but it would get the job done.
However, using that method would no doubt lead to problems should the boy manage to regain his memories. No. It would be better to just force him back into submission. To break him down until the boy realized just how worthless he truly was. Then William could rebuild him in his image.
And, if all else failed, then the boy would just serve him as a useful as a focal point to direct his anger on. Maybe even his boredom too. Not to mention there was no end to the experiments that could be done.
Michael may've been utterly useless for most of his life. But William could make him at least make him into something of at least minimal worth. Even if it was something as pathetic as a loyal dog to abuse as he pleased.
At least this way he would be in a much better mood when going to interact with his other children.
Speaking of which, it appeared that Gregory was still awake. Given that the tv was still on and playing cartoons. Tossing the towel aside, William strode over, smiling slightly to himself as he peered over, finding his youngest dozing lightly on the couch. "Hi baby," he whispered, reaching out and gently brushing the boy's hair aside.
The gesture caused the child to stir slightly, bleary eyes slowly blinking up at him. "Daddy?"
"What're you still doing up?" he lightly chastised, moving around the couch to kneel in front of the kid. "I thought you went to bed already."
"Bad dream. Couldn't find you."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I was with your brother."
At this, the younger boy seemed to perk up, "Is Mikey ok?"
"He's still not feeling well," William answered, pulling the child into his arms before standing up. And that wasn't a lie. There was no doubt his eldest was feeling like shit following the long series of experiments. "But after he is then you'll get to see him, ok?"
Gregory leaned his head against his shoulder, one hand tiredly grasping his shirt as the other held onto a purple bonnie plush. "When'll he be better?"
"I don't know. The bad guys that took him really did a number on him," he replied. "But hopefully you'll get to see him soon."
Now that was a lie; reality was that Michael probably wouldn't be leaving the lab for a few weeks at least. It took time to break someone's will. Especially people as stubborn as his son appeared to be. Though…he might be able to speed things up by adding sleep deprivation to the mix.
William had been wanting to do more experiments with the illusion discs after all.
Smirking to himself, he adjusted his grip on the small body his arms. Gently pressing a small kiss to his temple in a silent thanks for giving him the idea. "Now come on, let's get you to bed."
"'M not tir'd."
"Sure you aren't sweetheart. Sure you aren't."
-.-
Batcave, December 18, 14:34EDT
If someone asked who was the most observant person on the team, most would say that it was Robin. And the Boy Wonder would be inclined to agree. There was little that escaped his notice. It was something that Bruce had spent years drilling into him.
So, no one should have been surprised when he noticed almost immediately that Mike had stopped answering texts. Something which wasn't entirely unusual. The older boy had the tendency to get distracted by whatever project he was working on. What was abnormal, however, was the fact that Mike went radio silent for this long. The fact that he had missed going on patrol with him. That he hadn't been at school and didn't show up to hang out with everyone at the Cave. Things his friend normally would never miss. At least without giving them a heads-up beforehand.
And, to only make things worse, the adults began to act weird at about the same time.
Black Canary had cancelled the past two training sessions with little to no notice. Something which was strange considering that the woman liked sticking to routine. She wouldn't have changed plans so last minute without there being some sort of emergency.
But there was nothing. Nothing that he could find anyways.
Weirder still, when he asked Artemis and Roy about it both archers had made remarks about GA acting unusual a couple nights before. About how seemingly out of nowhere their mentor had suddenly seemed like he was on high alert. Sending both home without any explanation as to why and even going as far as escorting them to make sure they made it back safely. And, Green Arrow, one of the biggest chatterboxes in the entire League, had adamantly refused to answer any of their questions as to what was going on.
Come to think of it, that was the same night Bruce had insisted he stay in from patrol. Going as far as to remind him of a project he had due that coming Monday. A project which the man knew full well that Dick had already completed a couple days ago.
Bruce rarely banned him from patrol. Not unless he was in trouble, sick, actually had schoolwork to finish, or…or there was a case he didn't want him working on.
But there weren't any cases like that. None that he'd seen would've made the Bat as insistent as he was. None except…
Dick's stomach dropped.
There was only one case Bruce had been explicitly angry about him participating in.
And there was only one case that would cause Mike to go radio silent for several days.
"Recognized: Black Canary—13."
"Tell me you've found something," Dinah said, the normally gentle woman's voice hard with anger as she stomped over to his mentor's side.
"Nothing beyond the airport," Bruce replied tiredly, running a hand down his face. "The plane deactivated the transponder shortly after takeoff."
His stomach churned at the obvious stress in both adults' voices. The mere tone wanting to confirm his worst fears.
Hopefully this was just a sighting. Like in New Orleans. Hopefully William Afton had just been on the move. Not hunting another victim. Or…or worse.
Logically though, he knew the League wouldn't be this spooked over a mere sighting. He just didn't want to believe it.
"And the trackers?"
"Deactivated. No doubt destroyed by now."
"It's been four days! And you're telling me we are no closer than when we started?!"
Four days.
Mike hadn't been seen in four days.
And, four days ago, their mentors had started acting weird.
Dick felt like he might throw up.
Because this could only mean one thing: His suspicions were right. William Afton had made his move.
And he had won.
The serial killer had once again outmaneuvered the goddamn Justice League and kidnapped his friend from right under their nose.
And Robin hadn't known for four fucking days.
What kind of friend was he? How could he have not noticed? He had literally been trained to be almost too observant. How on earth could he have missed this? How the hell had he not realized one of his closest friends had gone missing?
The answer was simple: he didn't miss it. Robin knew Mike wouldn't drop off the face of the earth like this for no reason. The problem was that he didn't want to believe that the worst-case scenario had taken place. And, by doing that, Dick had essentially helped the monster kidnap his friend.
It certainly didn't help that the adults had once again gone out of their way to make sure they didn't find out. Wasting time. Time Mike didn't have.
Mike was part of their team, and their mentors had deliberately gone out of their way to exclude them from the investigation. Excluding viable manpower from helping and following more leads. Enabling William Afton to disappear into the shadows again. It was like Red Tornado all over again. Only, this time, they didn't have the excuse of the missing person being a member of the League. This time, someone's life was actually in danger.
He didn't know who he felt more furious with: himself for not noticing for so long or their mentors for outright hiding it from them.
It didn't matter. He could figure it out after they got Mike back. First, he had to let the Team know that one of their own was in trouble. Because if the League wanted to make things difficult by keeping them in the dark, then fine, two could play at that game.