A/N:
The beginning is the same, so skip it if you already read through that! It's only for clarity sense, I guess... it still is made thanks to JadeDearden!
x3 Enjoy this version!

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He followed around Old Sport for weeks. Watching him. Waiting for him to settle down.
If he was honest, he wasn't sure what he would have done if Old Sport managed to disappear on him.
He didn't want to think about it.
But finally the seemingly endless chase ended. California, eh? Pretty nice place, though he wasn't sure what made his friend chose this exact place to stay... it wasn't that important anyway, probably.
Everything was important.
It could be coincidence.
There was no time for petty worries! He needed to scout this place and plan the route for his next plan! This time he wasn't alone in this after all, he would need to ensure that Sportsy could get out as well!
This time he would take responsibility and would impress his friend. He had already planned this out more than anything ever in his life and honestly, his plan was pretty snazzy! He even had a NAME for it! Every good plan needed a cool name!
Slowly he walked over to the computer, sitting down in front of it. His hyperactive mind was beginning to burn again, the itching having long turned into a full on screaming inside of his head. Maybe he should write his feelings down, it sometimes helped him cool down...
Without even seeing the screen, his fingers ran over the keyboard, typing and typing his soul onto the computer, unable to think, to concentrate, there was only Old Sport, Old Sport, Old Sport, Old Sport-
Another thought scraped his mind, only shortly, but it was enough to put it down, about the box he still...
Blinking he noticed what a scribbled mess he wrote and simply left it there. Christ, this only made him more... agitated... then before...
Focus, Dave, you need to keep your mind together! Write something down, something that helps you remember where you are and what you wanted to do. Diary or something, who cares!
Slower he typed down a few coherent thoughts, before standing up determined.
Tomorrow he would take his time to get himself under control, at least for the time he would be forced to spend here...
And then he would make his offer.
And Old Sport would agree.
One way or another.

-

When he finally got back out of the restaurant and got into a safe distance, he began screaming his lungs out in pure ecstasy.
HE SAID YES, HE SAID YES, HE SAID YES, HE SAID YES, HE SAID YES!
THEY DID IT!
IT!
RIGHT THEN, RIGHT THERE!
KIDNAPPED THOSE LITTLE FUCKERS AND DID IT!
Old Sport was simply gorgeous in action! He couldn't take his fucking eyes off him!
This smirk, this way he leaned forward, looming over the children, this-
Most of the air left his lungs, it didn't even feel as if he was still needing that anymore, just REMEMBERING this beautiful scene took his breath away...
Slowly he clawed into his own skin.
He needed to see him again, ASAP. There was no way he could survive the night without spending said night with him.
Before he even finished that thought he was already on his way, directly to the doorstep of his partner, his mind a jumbled mess. Out of breath he stepped up the stairs.
He would enter again, for the first time with Old Sport's knowledge, APPROVAL and they would sit down, chat-
But before he could knock, his hand froze.
What if not?
Suddenly his whole fantasy faltered.
Now, Old Sport was frowning at him, confused, annoyed, asking him how he even knew that he lived here-
No! NONONONONONONONO! Old Sport wasn't ALLOWED TO THINK THAT! HE COULDN'T! HE COULDN'T!
Shivering he retracted his fist away from the door, hugging himself as his legs almost gave in under him.
No, everything but that. He couldn't risk it. He needed to control himself.
Carefully he returned into the tree at the side, strikingly similar to the tree of Sportsy's old house. The whole place was pretty similar if he was honest with himself, but he liked that. It was comforting.
AH! There was Sportsy!
Hm~ interesting~
Orange Guy was not acting all that different, despite having just committed his first murder... but... that just meant that Old Sport was trusting him so much! Right?! Trusting him enough to stay calm and do whatever he told him to, knowing that it would be the best!
Haha!
They were a team!
The best team!
THIS WAS WHAT IT MEANT, RIGHT?
IT HAD TO.
IT HAD TO.
IT HAD TO.
Nothing... was wrong. Everything was alright! Nothing could go wrong here, now he had Old Sport so close at his fingertips... all he needed to do is to be patient and not let him slip away. Not too hard, right? No, he would be able to amaze Old Sport easily!
No problem!
If he just played it safe, his partner would be convinced, simply by all the benefits their friendship had!
Play it safe, Dave, don't let your emotional instability get the better of you!
You know better than this.
Silently he remained inside of the tree, until the pressure inside of his head overtook him.
If he stayed here for another minute, he would do something he would regret.
Go back and write something into your diary. Now.
Obedient he followed that smart thought and wasted about three hours with trying to come up with something remotely sane to write down in the diary. Once he finally finished the last of about three sentences, he shortly checked the clock, unsure of what to do next.
Great, it was past midnight, now he could go to sleep!
Haha, who was he kidding?
He would return to that house.
Get inside there.
Marvel at Old Sport's cute expressions....
A perfect night!
And with that he already stood at the window he had manipulated on Monday, while Old Sport did his job, to easily get in.
Satisfied he looked around and took a deep breath, finally feeling as if he came back home again. Almost purring to himself he sneaked into his Orange friend's bedroom, repressing a soft laughter as he saw his-HIsHIShISHIShis- curled up like a kitten, breathing softly as the guy dreamed sweet dreams of Vegas and love.
Surely.
Perfectly fluid he slipped next to him into the bed, stroking the peaceful face as lightly as he could, while blissfully bathe in his own glee. This was the first time this WHOLE FUCKING WEEK that he could rest his mind...
Old Sport was the best medicine to his body's self-destruction.
Old Sport was the best.
If he wouldn't need to be silent, he would probably give into his need to hum, but for now he concentrated on drinking every bit of Orange Guy in. The way the skin rested on his face and how it stretched whenever the man dreamt of something that made his expression flutter, his soft lips-
BAD AUBERGINE.
If he continued down THAT path, he would... probably... wake him...
Suddenly the reality hit him, almost throwing him off the bed.
He would need to control himself ALL DAY tomorrow. He would need to fucking not blurt out whatever his burning brain wanted to tell him, he would need to keep his hands in check so he wouldn't accidently grab him and never let go.
Holy fuck.
This was a whole new hell he was supposed to be able to control.
But it was fine...
And worth it.
Worth this warm, fuzzy sensation he could currently enjoy.
Once more he lovingly stroke over Orange Guy's cheek. Really, the only thing more he could wish for, was that his partner would look back at him, give him one of those sweet smiles and-
Ah... he was getting twitchy again...
Shortly he checked the clock, almost dying of shock as JIMINY CHRISTMAS, OLD SPORT WOULD STAND UP SOON! Damn, did he really just laid here for four hours straight and stared?! If he would go home now, he could-
Home?
Away from Old Sport?
He couldn't.
Never.
But he still needed to shower...
He could shower here. It was basically his own home anyway.
Old Sport wouldn't mind.
How could he.
A short search later he found the shower and the shampoo-
HE COULD SMELL LIKE OLD SPORT, HE COULD PUT THIS ON HIS SKIN- DROWNING- IN- HIS- SCENT-
- and a short cold shower later he vanished back outside, ready to watch Sportsy's morning routine! No matter how often he saw it, he still couldn't get enough~
If he closed his eyes he could simply guess by the time that had passed where Old Sport currently was...
A game he very much enjoyed to play!

-

He watched Old Sport leave the backroom, almost calling out to him that he should get himself a Taser, just in case the animatronics would try to harm him in any way...
Silly him, Old Sport wasn't a baby, he would be fine.
In a haze he began to simply blind those stupid old pieces of metal, not really caring if he was doing.
Old Sport just asked him questions.
Personal questions.
Questions you would ask a person.
A friend.
Under his fingers, cable snapped and the more fragile parts cracked as he ripped it apart, not even FEELING what was happening in the reality.
He even asked for his favorite type of pizza!
This settles it!
Old Sport was interested in him!
AS A HUMAN!
The animatronics were now even more moldy and broken than before, but who cared anyway? Greedily he got out the screen he had spent the morning to hock up to the security system and began keeping a close eye on what Old Sport was doing.
Not out of worry that he would get screwed over, but rather because it was simply far too enjoyable to see Orange Guy's expression changed into another, far more concentrated one as soon as he opened up the machines.
Who would have thought that the boy would take his request just as serious as Phone Guy's previously?
It was sweet!
On the topic of Phone Guy though...
He would need to get rid of him.
He would need to make them hate each other and then kill this fucking son of a bitch off... it might not be the version that RUINED EVERYTHING LAST TIME, BUT IF HE WOULDN'T TRAUMATIZED THIS FUCKING TOOL, HE WOULD NEVER GET RID OF THIS HATRED THAT FLOODED HIS BODY, MAKING HIM WANT TO LASH OUT WITHOUT ANY SECOND THOUGHT-
Calm down Davey, he would manage it... he had to do nothing more than casually introduce that idea to Old Sport...
They should Sprinlock someone for fun!
So he could check if Orange Guy lacked empathy for adults just as much as for kids.
If not...
He wouldn't know what to do.
Where was Old Sport right now?!
If he wouldn't share the same air as Sportsy in the next five seconds, his brain would erupt out of his head-
Calm. Down.
Write something. Yeah, write something down and once you're finished, Old Sport would be done as well and they could leave for the day, he would be able to calmly watch him from his favorite place-
Watch him laugh and talk and smile and roll his eyes and-
OLD SPORT, OLD SPORT, OLD SPORT, OLD SPORT, OLD SPORT-

-

"Old Sport! I'm sort of caught up in something right now, unfortunately. I'll meet you in the saferoom at closing time. You have my word, Old Sport. For now, here's a dank meme that you can enjoy. Chao!"
He send of the picture and began skinning his hands again.
He had touched Old Sport inappropriately.
He committed a SIN.
HOW COULD HE?!
WHAT HAS HE DONE?!
Slowly he watched the thick blood dripping down into the sewer, the cold biting into his muscles, as there was no heat source in the dark, wet basement.
In the back he activated incredible loud music, in hopes of getting his brain blasted clean again by the sheer pain of the sound waves washing over him.
It HURTS, it HURTS SO MUCH, but he couldn't stop, not after what he had DONE, he had to stay here and deal with this- with THIS-
The basement still smelled like blood and it was not his own fault. For how many hours had he cleaned the walls of this wretched place?
It made him want to puke. But he had to endure it. He had to accept this to finally get himself fixed.
Slowly he let the knife enter his skin and began rip out what he could find, losing all feelings in his hands. His traitorous body that couldn't do as it WAS TOLD-
KILLITOFFKILLITOFFKILLITOFFKILLITOFFKILLITOFF-
Sorry... he was so sorry...
BUT DID HE ACTUALLY HAD TO? NO! HE COULD GET OLD SPORT DOWN HERE AND TAKE WHAT HE WANTED SO AGONIZINGLY BAD-
NO! NONONO! He didn't want to hurt Old Sport...
Even if that would make this a lot easier.
What was he even thinking?
Old Sport was on his side.
Old Sport was on his side.
Old Sport was on his side.
Screaming at nothing he threw himself against the wall, akin to a caged animal that was trying to escape. But he couldn't leave. Not yet.
Not as long as he couldn't trust himself.
The music had stopped, apparently he had bashed the speakers in while being out of his mind.
Henry would be disappointed in him.
So disappointed.
He was fucking disappointed with himself at this point!
Christ, he wished to see Old Sport, right now, if he wouldn't get to hear his voice, together with some sort of soothing words, he might would strangle someone... probably himself. JUST GRIP HIS OWN THROAT AND CRUSH THE BONES INSIDE OF THIS SCRUNY, USELESS-
In a daze the Purple Guy went towards a closet with age old chemicals, injecting a small dose of them into his blood. Henry never gave his material any kind of tags and even for the animatronics were the blueprints only to rebuild them in case he would be gone.
The feeling of ice creeping through his veins gave him the impression that he picked the right one though.
Soon enough his body started to cramp up as he began to cough up blood.
This was for doing bad things to Old Sport.
This was so he would NEVER do anything wrong again to him.
Hours passed.
Finally, with the lessening of the pain, the chaotic, helpless energy inside subsided as well.
He would see Old Sport again.
He would SEE him again!
HEAR him again!
It was fine!
He would see Old Sport in less than an hour!
It was time to prepare!
Silly putty! He would need to buy that!
A nice, calm exterior to not... bother him.
A charming smile to convince him to say yes to the plan!
And of course... an excuse to maybe shortly get away from him, just in case his... problems... began to surface again.
It would be so great! They could spend the evening together, have fun conversations and especially bathe in Sportsy's body heat, while listening to his voice that somehow managed to excited and calm him at the same time-
Laughing at his silly situation he strolled out of the basement, ready and happy to finally not only managing to destroy Freddy's, but making a partner for eternity in the process as well!
This couldn't have ended any better way!
Orange and Purple, together forever!

-

Silently he smiled to himself as Old Sport hesitantly left the room. Poor adorable puppy. Way too tired to stay up for a whole night~
Ah, it's amazing to see that guy tired out from all the rigging they did last night...
Snickering to himself, he turned towards Balloon Boy and began to loosen the screws of its mouth, deciding that he probably would need to take off the whole damn head.
BUT! If this was the animatronic Old Sport wanted to scar Phoney with, he could totally understand... it was actually a great choice! If it wasn't already bad enough to have that piece of shit laughing at your face, it sure would be traumatizing to have said face eaten afterwards.
Finally he felt almost stable again and was celebrating it by indulging in some fantasies about Vegas, about doing drugs, about having a lovely party in a nice casino...
Absent mindedly he let the crowbar almost slip into the mechanical body. Oops!
Slightly he giggled at that accidently almost-fuck-up and tried to refocus on his task at hand. If he did this wrong, he probably would need to springlock himself for that... and he didn't want to do that.
He didn't want to do that.
He didn't...
Shortly he took a deep breath and calmed back down.
No, if he would fuck up, Old Sport would tell him that it was okay, HE WOULD for sure! They were friends now and real friends at... that?
Fear seeped back into his body, but he determined pushed them away, using the energy coming from it into finishing his work faster. Old Sport was his friend! They shared beers together, talked about Milf-Robots, springlocked an uninteresting asshole and... and after that Old Sport came to him for guidance. BY HIMSELF. OLD SPORT CAME TO HIM, IN A BAD MOOD, MEANING THAT OLD SPORT WANTED TO BE CHEERED UP BY HIM AND IT FUCKING WORKED!
Ecstatic he began to attach the teeth into the now gaping maw, after he checked that the mechanical jaws were functional and especially powerful enough to break through bones.
Yes, this was going swimmingly!
BB was staring weirdly at him, but knew better than to try to defy him. Even in death, the spirits were still mortified at his sight and pretended to be not sentient...
Dave honestly asked himself why.
He would like to chat from time to time!
But for that he had Old Sport, right?
Already back in his dream world, he shortly paused to stare off. Where would they go once they made it to Vegas? Better not directly to the strip club, it would get old pretty quickly... oh and he still needed to steal a car!
Which of the casinos would they visit first? He had already three in mind, but...
But honestly, he hated the thought of Old Sport being busy with something else.
If Old Sport would be glued to those screens and those tables, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from burn that place to ashes.
If Old would not listen to him, he would scream until he got to shoot a bitch.
If Old Sport's smile wasn't because of him, he would have to destroy whatever caused it.
Anyway, there were two options... either try one out, look how bad it got and if it wouldn't go his way, he could simply destroy whatever bothered him!
Or he directly kidnapped Old Sport and tied him up in the basement.
It wouldn't be bad.
He would take care of him and give him all attention and love in the world!
There was nothing WRONG with that!
It was probably even healthier for his poor partner!
The filthy world was no place for someone as perfect as him!
Eh, he should at least give Old Sport a shot at going to Vegas with him, after all it was their deal. Since they were friends, he wouldn't need to worry about him running away anytime soon, so kidnapping was always an option.
Hm...
Dave continued to sway on the spot, deeply engrossed in his own thoughts.
He could probably persuade Old Sport to share a room and bed with him~
After all it was cheaper and they wouldn't spend that much time there anyway. Yep, nothing wrong with that reasoning! Also, he was a slim guy, so it wouldn't be too much of a bother lying next to each other, haha!
Ah- when did he start to drool?!
Embarrassed he wiped his chin, glad that Old Sport was at home, doing his routine.
Man, if he wanted to see him this night, he would need to hurry up!
Confused he stared at the amount of metal parts in front of him, he had forgotten what he was doing before his mind wandered off. To get it over with, he once more tested the strength of the bite and the agility of the machine.
Yeah, yeah, this would work. Now he just needed to get his victim! Phoney was a bit too big to simply send BB after, so he would need to go after his soon.
THANKFULLY he had contacts! Quickly he took out his phone and texted Michael.
- Eyo, bro, you wanna shove your brother in a robo-mouth? Cuz we gonna have a special robot here tomorrow ;)
- Yeah, of course! Thx purple, you're my fav children strangler <3!
- Great, u gotta go to party room 2 and let him stay there, the robot is coming to get him soon
- can do! see u tomorrow, thx again 4 the robo!
Mike was most certainly a good child and would soon be a very good serial killer as well! Or CEO or something business-y... which was basically the same thing anyway.
One last time he let his finger trail over his additions, ensuring nothing could break off while the thing was attacking and with a final happy sigh he left the backroom, hoping and praying that Old Sport would like what he did with the animatronic.
Just imagining that Orange Guy turning towards him with a gleeful smile, respect shimmering in his glowing eyes... oh and killing off Phoney's son together, high-fiving as they fucked that pure waste of air over once again...
Tomorrow would be the best day in his life!
At least until he and Old Sport would go to the next stage~
Ahahahaha! It was a little too early to think about THAT though!
Time to go home... back to Sportsy...
Some semblance of exhaustion took ahold of his body and he smiled at the prospect of curling up right next to Sportsy. This was the finish day, he probably could come up with an excuse... yeah!
Silently he sneaked back into the house and bedroom of his partner, instantly giving into the urge to touch his soft, lovely cheek.
Shortly the Orange Guy began moving around and almost, for a split second, Dave feared that he actually woke him up and made this all very awkward, but in a lucky turn of events Old Sport just happened to be dreaming currently.
Fascinated Dave watched how a few pleasant expressions washed over his partner's peaceful face, before the guy snuggled deeper into the cushions, with a slight murmur. "Dave..."
OH.
OH GOD.
OH THE HOLY, INSANE, UNBELIEVABLE GOD.
While suppressing a loud scream, he clawed into the sheets.
There was no way he could sleep tonight.
And he was perfectly fine with that.
Tomorrow he would tell him that he just came in to pick him up or something.
Until then... well he could snap a few photos, get the scream still inside of him under control and reflect on how much he loved life at this point.

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A/N:
I tried to let it as open as possible, but ending and stuff still had to be decidedby me...
I always imagine Dave as actually surprisingly "innocent" since he acts likesuch a child, so the bad thing he did is up to your decision. Maybe he didn'tdo anything actually bad, but overreacted? Yours to decide!
3.500 new words! N E A T ! But if there's still something you miss, I willupdate it and write the thought in that you wanted to see ^u^
With that it comes to an end, I hope you enjoyed! As always, opinions and tipsare greatly appreciated! :3