Chapter Text
On April 13th, 1983, at 12:13 AM, Henry Emily received a phone call. It was odd for someone to be calling at that hour (it actually woke him up), so he was a bit confused when he picked it up. Before he could even get a word in, a sharp British accent he would recognize anywhere came through on the other end.
“Henry,” William said, “I’m so sorry to bother you at this hour, but I need you to come over and watch Elizabeth.”
“...What?” Henry wasn’t quite sure he heard William right. He was still half-asleep, after all. “Right now?”
“Yes.” William answered. “I apologize for the short notice, but there was really no other option.”
“What’s going on?” Henry rubbed the remainders of sleep from his eyes, growing concerned. This wasn’t like William, he was the type of guy to have everything meticulously planned three weeks out. Although he didn’t want to, Henry could only imagine that something bad must’ve happened to prompt this.
And unfortunately, Henry’s suspicions were confirmed when William said “An ambulance is coming to take Michael to the hospital.”
If Henry wasn’t awake before, he was awake now. “What?!”
“I know, I know, I wouldn’t have called one either—you Americans and your healthcare costs,” William said with annoyance, grumbling out the last part, “but Elizabeth already called it, so it’s coming. I have to go with him obviously, but I don’t think she should see this. She’s too young.”
“No no, wait, back up,” Henry said frantically, “that’s not—why is Michael going to the hospital?!”
William clicked his tongue. “Ah. He tried to kill himself.”
Henry saw red. “He what?!” He nearly screamed, a sick feeling washing over him.
“We can go over the details later. Actually, I’m sure Elizabeth can fill you in. When can we expect you?”
“I’m on my way now. Shouldn’t be more than ten minutes.”
“Good.”
William hung up, and Henry scrambled to get dressed and grab his keys. His heart was pounding in his ears as he drove, definitely speeding but not finding it in him to care if he got pulled over. He was usually a cautious driver, especially in the dark, but his body seemed to be moving against his will as he pressed on the gas. When he reached the Afton household, he nearly ripped the door off its hinges. A teary-eyed Elizabeth was waiting for him right in front of it, but her father was nowhere to be seen.
“Uncle Henry!” She cried, dashing forward and throwing herself at him, latching onto him and wrapping her little arms around him tightly. He returned the hug, and she buried her face in his chest and sobbed.
“Hello dear,” Henry greeted her. He was trying to remain calm and collected as the adult in the situation, but he could hear his voice shake anyways. “Where’s your father?”
“He and Mikey already left,” she answered, her voice muffled by his shirt, “with the doctors.”
“I see,” he paused. He wasn’t quite sure what to say next. He had been panicking so much, just trying to get here as fast as possible, that he hadn’t thought about what was going to happen once he got here. After taking a few seconds to assess the situation, he decided he should probably check in with Elizabeth first, and see how she was feeling. She was only nine, he could only imagine how confused and scared she must feel.
He lifted a hand and stroked the top of her hair in a soothing manner. “How are you feeling?”
She lifted her head to look up at him (though her arms remained firmly in place around him). “Bad…” she sniffed.
“Yeah, I imagine,” he crouched down to her height, breaking the hug. She whined a bit, but didn’t say anything. He looked her in the eyes as gently as possible, swallowing nervously. “I’m really sorry about this sweetheart, but do you think you could tell me what happened? Your father and I didn’t get to talk much over the phone, he said you could fill me in?
A voice in the back of his mind said she shouldn’t have to. He ignored it.
She nodded.
“Good, thank you,” he let out a relieved sigh. “Let’s go sit down, okay?”
She nodded again, and the two went into the living room and sat on the couch. He felt bad making her relive the awful experience like this, but it was killing him not knowing what happened to his godson, and Elizabeth was a tough girl—he had faith she would tell him if it got too much.
Elizabeth sat next to him, cuddled up to his side. Her head rested against his shoulder and both of her arms wrapped around one of his securely, almost as if she was holding a stuffed toy for comfort.
“So…” she began, “um…I was supposed to be asleep, but I was having trouble. I got up to get a glass of water but I noticed that the bathroom light was on. I decided to check if anyone was in there, because Daddy doesn't like it when we leave the lights on—it raises the bill.”
Ah, Henry saw where this was going. “And I take it someone was in there, just…not like you were expecting, huh?”
She sniffed and nodded again. “Yeah…” her voice shook. “No one answered the door so I thought it was empty. But Mikey was in there, and he was—he was all cut up!” She began to cry again, her little body shaking with sobs as she clung to him desperately.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You don't have to continue, I’ve heard enough,” Henry hurried to say, not wanting to make this any harder for her. But Elizabeth continued anyway.
“There was so much blood…” she cried, “so—so I did what my teachers say to do in an emergency and I called 911. Daddy woke up bec–because I was crying so loud,” she struggled to get her words out as she choked on her sobs. “He said…I should have just told him instead…’cause now he has to pay the ambulance…”
Elizabeth was in hysterics now, and Henry used his free arm to pull her up into his lap and rub her back gently. She released his arm in favor of wrapping her own around his neck. For a while, they said nothing as Elizabeth just cried, and Henry held her.
But as they sat there quietly, thoughts of suspicion involuntarily crept into his mind. This was the second time the ambulance fee had come up tonight. Obviously this wasn’t something William had grown up with, but he had been living in America for a little over 20 years at this point, longer than he had ever lived in England. Shouldn’t he be used to it by now?
And, of course, the more pressing matter, why does he care so much? His son was…dying. Fuck, Michael was dying, and he cared about the cost? He had sounded…for lack of better word, apathetic, over the phone.
Henry shook those thoughts out of his head. This was William, his best friend for all 20 of the aforementioned years. He knew William better than anyone, probably even better than William’s wife had. William had always been a reserved man, never the type to let people know what he was feeling. He had reacted the same way to all of the other unfortunate losses that had plagued them, it was most likely just his way of coping—trying to appear strong and collected so as not to worry others and keep things calm.
Eventually, Elizabeth’s breaths began to still and her cries ceased. She had cried herself out, and was now just lying against Henry’s chest, her forehead resting on his shoulder as he felt her chest rise and fall slowly. He continued to rub her back, and they just sat there for a moment, comforted by each other’s presence.
But then, Elizabeth let go of him, lifted her head, looked Henry in the eyes, and said, in the most broken, defeated voice Henry had ever heard, “Uncle Henry, is Michael going to die?”
Henry didn’t say anything at first. He wanted to tell her of course not, darling! The doctors are going to do a fine job and he’s going to pull through! He’s going to make it, just you see! He’ll be back home before you know it! But he didn’t want to lie to her either, and he had to face the sickening fact that this was not her first encounter with death, nor the second, nor even the third.
So he told her the truth. “I don’t know.”
But he couldn't just leave it there. He wasn’t going to sugar-coat it, he didn’t want her to feel patronized or lied to. But he also wasn’t going to be a pessimist about it, more negativity was the last thing she needed in her life.
“But,” he continued, “I do know that the doctors are very good at their job, and know how to handle this kind of stuff. They save people every day, so there’s a good chance. I have hope.”
And he looked down into Elizabeth’s little face, waiting for her reaction, but none came. All she did was look down, her expression unchanged. It was only then that he realized she had probably heard that speech before.
Then she said something Henry had never wanted to hear come out of her mouth.
“This is my fault.”
“Oh, Honey, no, don’t say that!” He said instantly, placing his hands on her shoulders.
She looked back up at him. “But it was!” She insisted.
“Why do you say that?” He asked softly. His heart broke, seeing her like this. He couldn’t imagine being nine years old and feeling guilty for someone else’s suicide. The poor girl had already been through so much, she didn’t deserve this too.
She paused, as if hesitant to confess to something heinous. “I haven’t been very nice to him lately…” she admitted after a moment, “because he’s the one who caused Evan’s accident…”
Henry inhaled sharply. Oh. His heart ached for the little girl on his lap as she continued.
“And I should have known…because…because…Mikey wasn’t very nice to Evan and then Evan died!” She wailed. “I was mad at him but I didn’t want him to die!”
“Oh, darling,” he could see her tearing up again, so he pulled her close again as well. He hugged her tightly for a moment before releasing her so he could look her in the eyes.
“Listen to me,” he said, “this was not your fault. People who…” his voice shook as he tried to figure out a way to explain such a complex and tragic concept to such a young girl. But he reminded himself again, she knows death, don’t treat her like she doesn’t. “…wish to take their own lives do so for a multitude of reasons.”
He swallowed nervously. “It makes me very sad to say this, but…Michael was…probably feeling this way for a while. Suicide is a big decision, it’s decided after a lot of thinking and feeling.
“While it’s true that sometimes something can… push a person over the edge,” He put his hands back on her shoulders, both to comfort her but also to steady himself, because the shaking had begun to spread from his voice to his body, “I promise that…” he paused. He was about to say that’s not the case here, but it wasn’t. He knew it wasn’t. But he also knew the event in question was not related to Elizabeth in the slightest. “… if that is the case here, it isn’t your doing. It takes a lot more to push someone than their sister being a bit mean. Perhaps something pushed him, but it definitely wasn’t you.
The longer he spoke, the less certain he was of the validity of his words. Things are different for everyone, it’s entirely possible that someone’s sister being mean to them could be a breaking point. But he didn’t know how else to say it without explicitly saying what he assumed Michael’s reasoning was—the real event to push him over the edge. It had only been a month since the accident, that had to be it!
But he couldn’t say that. Despite how grown-up Elizabeth was, he couldn’t bring himself to say it to someone so young. If William considered her too young to accompany them to the hospital, she was too young to hear it’s because he was extremely traumatized by and feels guilty about accidentally killing your brother.
“I really wish this wasn’t the case, but…Michael most likely had had these thoughts…possibly even this… plan, for a while. it was…already coming, you didn’t cause this.”
Elizabeth looked at him for a moment, her green eyes wide with emotion, before uttering a tiny “…are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” he answered without hesitation.
She let out a sigh, then smiled at him. There was still sadness behind her smile, but it made him feel relieved anyways. It was a positive sign, a step in the right direction. “You’re so smart, Uncle Henry. You know so much about this kind of stuff.”
“Thanks sweetie, you will too one day.” He smiled back, but there still remained some residual anxiety as all he could think was don’t ask me how I know. Luckily, she didn’t.
“Now, it’s getting really late. How about we get you to bed, huh? Growing girls like you need their sleep!” He ruffled her hair playfully.
“Mm…I’m not really tired,” she replied.
He understood. He certainly wasn’t tired either after all of this.
“Alright, how about we put on a movie, then? Maybe that’ll help. You can pick!”
Her face lit up as she excitedly went to pick a movie, rifling through the box of VHS tapes across the living room. She eventually settled on Cinderella, popped the tape in, and scampered back up to the couch to cuddle back up with him.
About halfway through the movie, he felt her weight shift as her body slumped up against him. She had fallen asleep. He smiled as he looked down at her, happy to see her looking so calm. She would get to have some peace, at least for a little while.
He reached over and hooked an arm under her legs, picking her up in a bridal carry, and standing up to carry her to her bedroom.
He walked upstairs, pushed open her bedroom door as quietly as possible, placed her in bed, and tucked her in.