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Michael's earliest memory is of a brown Great Dane.
To this day he can remember the Great Dane having these intense, intelligent eyes that just watched him as he crawled around. What's even weirder is that he can't ever recall his dad, mother, or any of their friends owning a dog. Especially one as massive as that one.
The more he grows up, the blurrier the memory gets. But the dog's presence never seems to fade strangely enough.
At seven, Michael's mother wasn't in his life anymore.
Had she divorced father? Was she kidnapped? Or did she die? Who knows, he can't recall what or why she isn't. She just isn't. Leaving behind him and his siblings, Elizabeth, 3, and Evan, 1.
His dad never outwardly showed resentment about being left as a single dad. Frankly, he took it well, all things considered. Or that's what everyone outside of the Afton Family probably thought.
His dad was falling apart, and Michael had no clue what to do.
Maybe that's why his father invited his old friends for a bit. Now, that was a shock. He didn't know his dad had any other friends besides Uncle Henry.
The first to arrive was this nerdy woman – dressed up like an old mean-school librarian. She wore a red skirt and a bright orange turtleneck. Even her demeanor screamed strict, with her stiff smile and glasses that blinded Micheal when he looked up at her behind his father's leg.
"Hello Sha-," the woman began once his dad opened the door, not waiting another second for greetings. But nor is his dad,
"William," his dad cut her off, "I prefer it if you call me William in front of my children, please."
The woman's already stiff smile becomes more rigid, "William." She hums to herself, "Well, hello, William. Long time no see."
His dad gives her a genuine smile, rare even when his mom was still here.
"It has, hasn't it, Velma."
Velma's stern exterior melts, and she grins at his dad as if he just said the funniest thing on earth. Which must be wrong because his dad is horrible at jokes.
Her grin mellows out after a moment, and it seems she finally realizes he is there because the next thing she's kneeling at his eye level.
"Why hello," Velma gives him a soft smile, "you must be Michael."
He blushes, for some reason embarrassed to have her attention.
His father lays a hand on his shoulder, "Say hi, Michael."
He looks at Velma and mumbles, "H…hi."
After they get the greetings out of the way, his father shoos him away, asking him to watch over his siblings as he talks with Ms. Velma.
"If Evan or Elizabeth wake up, don't try to calm them down and come grab me. Okay?" his father said to him. This surprises him because, normally, his father asked him to at least try to calm down the two before grabbing him.
He nodded and made his way to the shared room. And like the noisy kid he is, he sits in the dark, in front of the door, trying to eavesdrop.
"....missing…..help…..tired," is what he can make out from his father's rambling.
Velma's response is one word, "Okay."
For the next week, Velma is their glorified nanny/babysitter. She dotes on Evan and Elizabeth when he or dad can't play with them. Teaches him how to (reluctantly) clean Evan's diapers and how to do some simple chores around the house. She even helps him with homework when she sees he's struggling. The only thing she doesn't do is cook – she leaves that to father.
"Your dad is an amazing cook, Micheal. I don't think he needs my help in that regard," she laughs as if she just said a joke. Michael doesn't see what's so funny. His dad is an average cook at best, honestly.
His dad laughs as he flips the steaks he's preparing. "You praise me too much, Velma," he says delightfully.
Velma affectionately rolls her eyes, "says the restaurant owner."
Michael looks at the situation bemused.
The whole week honestly felt like a fever dream, really.
And dreams were always meant to come to an end.
While Michael is in the kitchen trying to do multiplication, he can clearly make out the heated conversation happening in the living room.
"You can't keep running away like this, Shaggy," he hears Velma venomously spit out.
"Don't," his father takes a deep breath, "don't call me that."
Velma scoffs, "You can't run forever, William."
A pause of silence.
And then his father laughs, and laughs, and keeps laughing, until he finally chuckles out, "Watch me, Velma."
Velma groans, "I can't—I just can't." He hears some rustling, "I need some fresh air." And then the front door is being slammed shut.
He can still hear his dad chuckling as he walks into the kitchen. Michael grips his pencil and stares intently into the math problem.
He freezes as his father lays a hand on his shoulder. A firm squeeze, "you heard nothing."
He nods dumbly, never looking away from his homework.
His dad hums in satisfaction.
Not even a day later, the other friends come knocking. Velma is nowhere to be seen.
When his father opens the door this time, he's met with the site of the perfect couple. A beautiful redhead who wore all purple, from the tip of her shoes to the tippy top of her headband. Her scarf, bright green, was the only exception. Next to her is this objectively attractive blonde man, who wore a simple blue pants and white shirt combo with a bright orange scarf to seal the deal. He thinks he's seeing a pattern here.
Michael, this time, isn't near the front door. Instead, he's on the couch 'watching' TV, but he can make out that the couple seems excited to see his father – just like Velma. The woman and man pull his dad into an embrace. His father easily sinks into the hug as if it were second nature.
He watches as his dad invites the two inside, and Michael quickly sits back down from where he was leaning over the couch. And by the time they reach the couch he is raptly watching TV.
"Michael," his dad says. That's his cue.
He looks away from the TV and looks at the couple. He gave them a timid smile, "Hello, I'm Michael."
The couple are starstruck for a bit before they both start squealing. He jumps in surprise and glances at Father.
His father shrugs in response.
The redhead quickly makes her way towards him and grabs his face.
"Oh. My. God," she shrieks, "he looks like a mini version of you! How is that even possible!"
Somehow, the blonde ends up next to the woman without him realizing. The man grins, "Nah, the kid's definitely much cuter."
His father rolls his eyes, "That's enough, you two. Michael doesn't even know your names, and you're already all over him."
The couple quickly gave him space.
"The name is Daphne, kid," Daphne points at herself and then at the man. "That doofus is Fred."
"Your doofus," Fred leans on her and says in a saccharine tone.
Daphne sighs, "Sadly."
Like last time, his dad ushers him towards his siblings' room. However, this time, Daphne is opposed to this, wanting to spend more time with him.
"But he's just so cute, William," Daphne hugs him tightly. Micheal doesn't think he's been hugged this much since he was a baby.
"Daphne, please," his father titters out.
He sits at the edge of the door, trying to overhear again. But, he guesses, his dad somehow found out about this because this time he was only able to catch one word.
"Don't."
Compared to Velma, Daphne and Fred stay much longer. And he means much longer - staying for two months. That's like seven weeks longer than Velma.
Like Velma, they're just some glorified nannies/babysitters. But, unlike Velma, Daphne and Fred don't necessarily help physically. They have more of a materialistic and emotional way of living.
They're not really good at chores, he finds out, when he sees the two arguing about how to broom properly… Both were wrong.
Rather, they buy and spend like there's no tomorrow.
Evan is crying? No worries, Fred just bought him a new pacifier that was probably overpriced. Elizabeth is hungry and doesn't want to eat Dad's food? Daphne makes a call, and the next thing they know, a chef is in their kitchen cooking them a five-course meal. Michael wants a toy? Already bought, with a few more toys on the side.
The only physical thing he ever learned from the two was during the start of the second month they were here.
They sat all three down in the living room and began – Fred's lesson was about 'How to create a fire in a couple of seconds with just paper.' And Daphne's lesson was on 'How to disarm (and harm) anyone with a knife.' Albeit to say his dad was not happy that day coming back from work to find his toddler daughter chasing his oldest with a knife, while Daphne was in the background, yelling about aiming for the throat. Or, the fact that Fred was with his one-year-old explaining about the intricate ways of making traps.
They're not perfect, but Michael likes them.
But, like everything Michael has ever loved in his seven years of existence, it comes crashing down. Hard.
It's been a while since he last saw his dad drunk, but that's what he was when he came stumbling into the living room.
Luckily, his siblings were taking a nap when everything went down. Un so luckily, Michael was caught in the middle.
"Are you drunk?!" Daphne's voice booms through the living room. She stomps her way towards his father, pissed.
His father looks at her and jeers, "Me? Never!"
"William," Fred's voice was steady but loud. He glared at his father and stood up. He also makes his way towards his father.
The atmosphere was so thick that Michael is pretty sure he could cut it with a knife.
Fred is the first to speak, "Velma told us what happened."
"Fred!" Daphne chastises.
"What! Velma was right!" Fred points at his father, "Look at him! He can't keep running away like this!"
His father suppressed a laugh and clapped dramatically, "Wow, thanks for stating the obvious! Let me guess, you're also here to tell me how to raise my own family."
Fred and his Father are chest to chest now, glaring into each other's eyes.
Michael does not want to be here right now.
Daphne comes between the two, "Stop you two! Michael is still here!"
This seems to calm down Fred a bit, but his father, on the other hand.
"So? Let the kid hear the bullshit you and Fred are going to spout about me! Tell him how shitty of a man I am!" His father yells out. If his father was sober, he surely would not have cussed and caused this much of a scene, thought Micheal.
Fred takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.
"I," Fred sighs, looking like he aged a decade, "I need to take a walk." Fred turned to Michael and grimaced, "I'm sorry you had to see that sport."
Fred makes his way out, and his father mumbles some slurred words that must've meant something if Daphne's heartbroken look meant anything.
"That's low, William."
"And?"
Daphne scoffs and also makes her way to the door.
Fred has left, but Daphne seems to hesitate. She looks at his father head-on, "Scooby misses you, Shags."
His dad stills, and Daphne closes the door with a click, not waiting for an answer.
Michael is seven when his father's friends never came back from their 'walk.'
He's seven when his dad starts obsessing about the success of Freddy's.
He is seven when he becomes the sole caretaker of his siblings.
He was seven when his dad lost his mind.
Michael is nineteen when his dad goes missing. Thus officially making him an orphan and family-less.
At least he got to keep the house…
But maintaining a house also involves having to pay the bills that come with owning your own property. And, because his missing father is an asshole who doesn't believe in nepotism or generational wealth, he needs a job.
And that's what he should be doing instead of whatever this situation was.
First, this brown Great Dane stopped him on his walk. A very familiar brown Great Dane at that.
But that's impossible – dogs can't live that long. Accept what are the odds that the dog from the memory is this exact dog. Ignoring the same black spots and how freaky intelligent the eyes looked, the chances must be a zero-point-one percent. (Maybe Michael is becoming insane like his father. Damn, he was really hoping that happened after his thirties, at least.)
Second, while he is trying to find out where the dog came from – only finding out his name is Scooby-Doo through his collar – a comically bright green and blue van abruptly comes to a stop beside him. The van has the words 'The Mystery Machine' in bright orange on the side, and honestly, it feels like something out of a cartoon.
It's only when the side door is thrown open to reveal a middle-aged redhead does Michael actually shake himself out of his stupor.
He finches and takes a step back with his hands up.
"Scoob!" The lady yells in ambivalence of joy and anger. "You can't just run away like that!"
The dog perks up beside him but does not move towards the lady. Actually, the dog moves closer towards him as a result.
This move makes the lady actually look at him. And instead of guilt for putting him in this situation, as a normal person would, she looked surprised.
"Shaggy?" She whispers in shock. Behind, he hears a couple of gasps before the front doors are also being rushed open.
Stepping out the driver and passenger seats is another pair of middle-aged adults.
Michael has a hazy feeling of deja vu with an added feelin' of dread to match.
"Shaggy!?" The pair shout as they make their way towards him and Scooby.
And now that he thinks about it. He does vaguely remember them as some friends of his father. And with the added fact that multiple times he's actually been confused as his dad before, he's not shocked by this turn of events. Why not. Let's add estranged friends of his missing father confusing him, for said missing' father, on the list of weird shit happening today.
Instead of explaining that to them, though, he opts for his usual response. "Sorry, I think you have the wrong person."
"But you look so much," the only man in the group pauses for a second. "Are-are you , Michael?"
Michael, now only wanting to run as far away from this situation, shrugs.
The trio share a look of awe before they jump him with questions.
"Jeepers, you've grown so big! How are your siblings?" Well, that's awkward.
"Jinkies, you look like a younger version of your father! Are you still struggling with multiplication? I know your dad was never great at those." How does she still remember that?
"Jeez, you used to be so tiny! Do you still remember the traps I taught you? How's your dad?"
He blinks at the sudden barrage of questions. A bit awkward because Michael, for the love of him, is struggling to recall their names.
But he was raised to act fast and question later, so he answered honestly, "dead. Still not. Nope. And my dad's missing."
This seems to momentarily shut them up for the time being. Michael shifts awkwardly.
The trio seems to go through the stages of grief rapidly before they all look at each other and then turn to him with determination.
"Let us introduce ourselves properly," the middle-aged man says with conviction.
"We are Mystery Incorporated, Michael. And we're gonna help you find your dad."
Micheal blinks at the man, looks at the two ladies, and then at the Great Dane that is still rubbing itself on him.
He takes a deep breath,
And laughs.