Chapter Text
"Why him, why not me?"
The question rang through his head, beating against his skull like a hammer.
"Why would she pick him?"
They were family after all, blood, what could be stronger than that? What made that stupid lug so special that Vanessa would abandon him? Abandon their father? He just couldn't make sense of it. But he would fix things. His last plan had been foiled, sure, but this time he would be more prepared. Mike won't ruin it this time.
And so, he decided, he would watch him. That Abby kid, his sister, she's clearly a weak point for Mike, but what else could he use against him. A few weeks of stalking should clear it up. Not stalking, observation. At least, that's what Michael tells himself as he creeps outside the Schmidt home, still wrecked from that eventful night 3 days prior. He needed a few days to begin planning of course, but now he sits, quietly hidden in the darkness outside the kitchen window. Mike is making Abby dinner, something from a box. "Real nutritious." Micheal, thinks to himself, watching the smaller man wait for the water to boil. He lets his eyes roam around the room, its mostly bare, save for a few tacky drawings hanging from magnets on the fridge. Michael feels himself grin a little, noticing the subjects of the drawings. The animatronics, crudely drawn, but no doubt what they could be. Most were of Chica, she must be Abby's favorite. Michael filed that info away.
He found his eyes drifting back to Mike. He's shorter than Michael, and stockier, but not big by any means. He reminds Michael of a teddy bear, soft and warm. He feels his cheeks flush a bit at that thought, but shakes head and attempts to focus again. Mike has dark rings under his eyes, and his shoulders slump like he's seconds away from passing out from exhaustion, but he still smiles and maintains a conversation with Abby that Michael cannot quite hear. He watches Mike give Abby her food then lean back against the kitchen counter, looking even more exhausted than before if that was even possible. Michael turns from the window, adjusting his position, still hidden, but his head now leaned against the wall with his knees tucked to his chest.
Taking some time to think now, Michael can't help but understand what Vanessa saw in him. He was so boring and mundane, but there was something almost..comforting about the man. Not to mention his appearance, he was without a doubt attractive, the kind of man Michael fantasizes about in his more vulnerable moments. Late at night, when the crushing loneliness of having no one there for him starts closing in. Michael had never dated anyone, he didn't have time, at least that's what he told himself. But really, in those moments when he let himself be honest, he knows it's because he's afraid. No one ever loved him, his dad hated him, that much was clear after the incident. And Vanessa, he wasn't sure about her, honestly. His fear had always kept him isolated, if he never made any attempts, he could never be rejected, it was safer that way. So he stayed single, but that didn't stop the desire. He may be a little crazy, but he didn't really want to be alone. And Mike, he seemed so caring, if he let himself, he could picture himself in the Schmidt home. Mike making coffee in the kitchen, him creeping up behind to wrap his arms around him, kiss his neck. In the dream Michael feels so safe, so safe with Mike. So simple, but Michael knew better.
He shakes himself out of his thoughts and looks up, realizing the light in the kitchen are off. He also feels how much his face has heated up, maybe this "research" wouldn't be as easy as he'd thought. This newfound attraction to Mike changes things, he doesn't even want to kill him now, he realizes. Hurt him sure, but it may be more beneficial to keep him around for a while, see what happens.
With his new mission forming he decides to go home and do some more thinking. If he's not killing Mike, that changes everything. As he slowly stands, joints popping from being in the same position for hours, he continues to let himself imagine. A domestic life, waking up beside a warm body, beside Mike's warm body. Snuggling up to him and burying his face in his neck. The thought is so comforting it makes him nauseous, he doesn't deserve that. Not with what he's done, and Mike would never want that. He had tried to kill them, no one in their right mind would be able to get past that. And though Michael is quite certain Mike is not completely sane, he's not sure he's quite that crazy either. Michael's obsessive thoughts swirled as he walked back to his car, parked about a block from Mike's house. He wanted him now, but he wanted Mike to want him too. Or maybe he was just tired, it had been a long few days and he'd barely slept after the whole ordeal with Charlotte. He had some theories about where she could be, and how that could tie to Vanessa, who hasn't been seen since that night. He drove home in silence, though racing about Vanessa, Charlotte, and mostly Mike. By the time he made it to his bed, Michael felt like a dead man walking. He barely had time to strip out of his clothes before passing out cold, dreaming of being held by that stupid Mike Schmidt.