Male Reader x Dave Miller

Released

A week or so pasts and I am officially released from the hospital. Thank god  I was starting to get rather nauseous of looking at those plain white walls.

I pull up in my car to my rather plain looking house. I could see the start of weeds growing up along my doorway and the doorway itself was cracked and splintered and needed a new coat of paint that I know I was never going to get. Home sweet home as they say. I entered the house with the same level of disappointment that a dog would have looking at an empty bowl. I stalk down to my room. It's the only place in this damn building I can tolerate. Everywhere else pictures of what used to be a complete family still hang along the walls. What used to be my complete family. For seven years I used to share this house with the two people in my life that I would die for: my wife Sarah and our son Atticus. I had thought that I had achieved the perfect life until the day my wife came to me in our bedroom and told me how tired and boring I had become for her. That day she told me how I used to be the boy of her dreams but now I'm a good for nothing mess with a job that I'm not even good at.  Somehow she managed to convince the court that I was unfit to be a father so she won complete custody of my dear sweet Atticus. I know to any strangers I can come across as judge mental and crude but I swear I don't have a hateful bone in my body, or at least I wouldn't if my loving wife hadn't ruined everything. Gently I caress my son's hair through the picture. His beautiful baby blue eyes stare back at me with such a wonder for the world, such a happiness that I was never able to possess for myself. It was the only visible difference between him and me.
"I hope she's not ruined that for you too, Atticus"

I think back to my last conversation with Dave. He must have had something really bad happened to either him or his possible kids to warrant such an aggressive reaction. I am mediately feel guilt pooling up in my stomach. Fuck I'm such an idiot.
A sigh escapes my mouth and I continue my descent to my office before my mind falls into a self-loathing spiral.
That's weirdly why I love my job as a detective, it always kept my mind focused so it wouldn't drift off. In fact the reason why I was at Freddy's to begin with was to find evidence for a case. The missing children's case has been going on for God knows how long and my superiors came to me to be the one to crack it. I had been looking around the building to see if I could find anything that would point to a suspect. The best I could find I was some animatronic fur with some strange red stains that I planned to send to forensics. I was planning to check the main security room for any footage but lo and behold that's when Dave started screaming.

Wait a second! if Dave was actually working there I think there is a possibility that he could be a witness! Holy shit a fucking bingo finally I'm getting somewhere. I I try and fail to stop myself from doing a stupid little cocky dance when I think back to how I was literally in the room with this man and it didn't occur to me that I could've gotten some valuable information. Well I guess considering his last response to anything related with children I don't think he would've taken kindly to me just saying "Hey remember when five children were murdered here!"

I look around in my office for the box of of all the evidence related to the missing children's incident. I push away the massive pile of papers laying on my desk and dig through every busted up drawer. After a while of digging I finally found the box. I think over the option of going back to the hospital and interviewing him but ultimately decided that on every front that was a bad idea. My leg is still in bad condition and I'm sure I'm the last person Dave wants to see at the moment.
I lift myself out of my office chair and head towards the bed. Does it matter what I plan to do if I'm too tired to do it.

Knock! knock! Knock!

A rapid knocking on my door wakes me up so quickly that I nearly fall out of bed. Oh God who the hell could be going around knocking on doors in the middle of the night! I think to myself.

Reluctantly I get out of my comfy paradise and trudged over to the front door. There's only one person who could be bothering people at the worst time possible. I swing the door open with the fury of swinging an ax and scream "Look I don't give a shit about your God can you take you and your little Mormon friends away from me-" I cut myself off. Standing in my doorway was possibly the one person in the entire world I wouldn't have expected to want to talk to me: Dave. 
"Well hello to you too Y/N I wouldn't consider myself a religion but ok then."

I was trying to wrap my head around how the hell he was able to just stand. Last time I saw him I would've assumed that he was fucking bedridden because of how scarred he was, but no here he was: Dave Vincent Miller just standing there as if you were at old friend from college that I have known for years who wanted to stop in for some drinks and not a man that I horrendously offended the first day I met him.

"Well come in I guess Dave."