A/N:
So... got bored, wanted to write Yandere Dave... this is a very uncanon version of Dave!
This fic doesn't actually focuses on Old Sport/Dave, but rather on Dave's emotional breaking down, because I like that kind of stuff and wanted to test if I could write it myself... please tell me what you thought!

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It started harmless enough.
When he first walked in, seeing his new co-worker, he almost tripped over his own feet. Because he was... he was... how could he describe what it felt like to meet someone that resembled you FOR THE FIRST TIME IN YOUR EXSISTENCE?
To final meet the first real human in a sea of faceless creatures.
Of course he immediately wanted him to become his lackey. He was the only one who could potentially become his partner.
Oh, how he craved to finally talk to someone who would understand. Who would listen.
Someone he could touch and have and team up with-
But he was shut down.
As soon as he came up, he was shut down.
It was horrible. Painful. How that Orange Guy simply looked him into the eyes and said-
But that didn't mean Old Sport would disappear. Yes, Old Sport stayed. Old Sport didn't vanish like everyone else.
He stayed right where he belonged.
Like a good employee.
It was pitiable how willing Old Sport let himself being used by Phoney, who would never appreciate, who would never CARE, who WOULD LEAVE HIM FOR DEAD-
Something in the back of his head was... bothering him... it was itching.
Yes, he was sorry for Old Sport, but there was more.
How could someone this smart, this obviously competent be willing to degrade himself in this way?!
How could he leave him behind, if they were this similar in the end?
The kid just needed more guidance, guidance he was willing to give... but he needed to do it right. He couldn't simply jump at Old Sport with his offer, right?
He needed to keep an eye on him.
Old Sport was entertaining to watch that much he had to admit. Whenever he walked up to an item, Dave noticed that he held his breath in anticipation.
It was lovely what that man could do with a crowbar... god would he be a great partner. God fucking hell he needed him to say yes.
He NEEDED-
Ah...
His headache became worse, day after day. The itching made him want to rip open the back of his head.
After refusing his offer, Old Sport began walking around, creating chaos wherever he went. He played an arcade game and then suddenly proceeded to rickroll everyone, smash the salad bar and made a urinal explode.
What a fucking madman!
It made him smile to see that guy create havoc.
He could almost feel his heart beat again.
"Employee? What are you doing here?" Phone Guy had entered the office from where he currently was watching Old Sport.
He couldn't smile back. He couldn't feel his face. He couldn't say anything. What was that Phone Guy doing here?!
Did he want to watch Old Sport as well?!
He couldn't let him do that. No. Never. Phone Guy would use anything he could find against his friend and that monster would manipulate him-
"Phone Guy, if I ever catch you staring at Old Sport, I will do unspeakable things to you. I will summon Henry straight back from hell to torture every little bit of mind out of you, until I can control every of your action like a puppet on a string."
"W-what?!"
Suddenly it came to mind that maybe Phone Guy was just doing his job by checking up on the psychopathic employee. "Oh. Never... mind... Whatcha want, Phoney?"
Finally he managed to smile again, even if it felt almost painful.
"What... what are you doing...?"
"Watching Old Sport- Cameras. I mean, I'm watching the cameras."
"Uh... shouldn't you work?"
"I dunno... should I...?" He managed to grin even wider, even if he didn't know how he did that.
"Uh... b-better not if I think about it... you're going to get us sued...."
Phoney was always a scaredy cat. "Thank you."
He wasn't sure why he said that, but he just wanted to end this fucking conversation now. He decided to just ignore his so-called "boss", after all what he did hardly mattered. He killed the children and got rid of the corpses, the police hadn't caught up to them yet, so it was fine.
The phone stood for a while, before leaving again, wisely.

-

It was surprising how quickly the police swarmed the place. Despite his best efforts, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time and now had to hide away in the saferoom.
On one hand it was annoying not to be able to see Old Sport in action today-
ANNOyinG He COuLDn'T evEn gRaSP HOW MUCH HE HATED it, HATED, IT WAS SO ANNOYING, HiS bODy wAS BUrNinG, wHY CoULDN't hE sIMplY K I L L thE FUCkiNG pOLiCE, whO cARed ANYWAY?
ANNOYINGANNOYINGANNOYINANNOYINANNOYING!
- but thankfully he had printed out the documents about Old Sport, so he could read them while hiding. Phoney wouldn't be able to rat him out either, since he couldn't tell the police about saferoom.
Perfect for a nice, calm read.
He would finally find out his new friends real name!
Foxyyiffer69.
Something gave him the impression that this WASN'T Old Sport's real name, but who was he to judge?
He would just stick to calling him Old Sport. It was a nice name as well.
It would be lovely for him to accept his as his real name, he could shape his identity-
As well as Old Sport just sounding awesome. There was no problem with that!
Greedily he flipped through the pages, feeling blessed with all the different information he could get. It made the itch go away... the constant, scraping itch.
As soon as someone signed the red contract, the people gave their best to gather as much information on them as possible, just in case.
It was nice to read all those ultimately useless facts, like where he was born or that he hadn't any allergies.
Why didn't they gather data about favorite food? Favorite animal? Favorite location? Favorite EVERYTHING--- though, if anyone else would get that information he'd really-
HATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATEHATE!
- find that unfortunate. Those weren't information for anyone! Those were information for those dedicated enough to spend time with Old Sport! It was an honor to know those things and should be kept secret from everyone else!
Curious he thought of the way Old Sport usually acted and asked himself what kind of things that human could enjoy.
Well, not slaughtering toddlers, even if he was awfully nonchalant about saying no to his offer, he still said no.
Huh... he liked rickrolls and chaos, obviously! Maybe he should appear a bit more... crazy next time they met!
What did Old Sport think of him?
Christ, he would give up Vegas to know the answer to that...
It wasn't weird to ask himself that.
No. Because, if he wanted to get a lackey, he would need to know what said lackey desired to get them on the same side! Logically.
He wasn't weird, he was... concerned.
Shortly he checked the clock, noting that he had plenty of time to ponder these questions.
It helped him. It helped against this constant itching, burning in the back of his mind-
Old Sport probably was fine with pizza if he ever would invite him out to eat together, but that was a bit cheap, wasn't it? Most people liked pizza and even if they didn't, there was some subform they could find joy from.
He had never seen him actually eat something if he thought about it.
Something he needed to change ASAP!
Inside of the documents was Old Sport's home address AND phone number! N E A T!
Now he would just need to save it on his own phone AAAAAAAAND...
Mine.
... he had everything he'd ever need if he wanted to contact Old Sport!
Except a mental connection. But that can be fixed.
Golly gosh, before he could simply sit down in front of his soon-to-be-partner's house, he needed to plan out a few excuses! In case of a mishap!
He could start with being cheerfully surprised, then pin the blame on someone else... acting as if someone has send him for some sort of stupid task... ah, it would be nice. Talking to Sportsy. Being close to him. Watch his eyes shift as the guy was thinking about his words that had settled into his brain...
Damn, he felt strange. His whole body was twitchy. His breath was quicker than he expected. His brain was prickling.
But that was fine.

-

Old Sport was holding a shirt in front of himself.
"Don't cha worry, it looks snazzy!" Dave tried his best to cheer him up, but the deep frown on his face stayed.
Sighing he picked up a more formal shirt and held it in front of himself, pausing.
Dave couldn't help but shrug with a smile. "It's a nice contrast to your usual self, but c'mon! Is that really you? Though I'd love to unbutton that thing~"
Naturally Orange Guy didn't react to that poor flirt... he would have to work more on that in the future.
"It's a children's birthday, why even care?!" Frustrated the Orange Guy threw both of them into a corner and fell back onto the couch.
"You're right! Cheer up Sportsy~ You look good in anything! Also, you're gonna wear a fucking Springsuit most of the time... and also-also it's nothing but a police operation anyway... with you as victim! But... that's what you get for trusting the phone more than me!"
Once more, Old Sport sighed and reached for the remote, staring at the now glowing screen.
Oh how he just HATED to be ignored.
Something hit him in the neck, it was cold and wet.
It began to rain.
Shortly Dave considered giving up his place in the tree, but if he would get sick-
Maybe he could guilt trip Old Sport to take care of him.
Ah... the dream...
Snickering he leaned forwards, not feeling the cold slowly seeping into his body. He was getting an INCREDIBLE kick out of seeing him shift around, move his head, breathe-
It made him feel good.
It made him feel great.
Better than cocaine.
Better than anything.
Oh, oh, Old Sport was standing up! Walking around, moving his body-
Hahahaha, maybe it was kinda weird to get this excited just because you could watch someone walk, but it was just the way HOW he moved, it was such a treat! It was filled to the brim with Old Sport's state of mind, the way his hands shook, hungry for things to do, the way he walked around, slightly leaned forward as if there was some sort of weight on him, dragging him down, the way he-
Oh dear lord, something really felt off today.
He knew that guy for four days.
But he knew from the start, didn't he?
Old Sport was his mirror image. They were never met to be separated from each other.
RING! RING!
The fucking Phone Guy had to ruin EVERYTHING again! If he just could-
"Hello? H-hello, Dave?"
"What'cha want Phoney? I'm VERY busy right now and you DON'T want to bother me with nonsense, believe me."
"Where are you right now?" The voice sounded fearful.
"Busy with Sportsy-business."
"Uh... g-great... I... we need... will you come into work tomorrow? I will need you for a party... it's really import-"
"Fuck off. The police is going to be everywhere, this ain't my first sting operation. Now leave me alone or I'll come to your house next."
"N-next?!"
"Never mind..." With that he hung up and sighed, as the pain that had settled back in his head finally subsided once he could focus back on his Old Sport.
It made him tingle to imagine to watch Orange Guy sleep.
Why just imagine it?
Holy hell, he felt so weird.
His chest was thumping, he wanted to scream, he wanted to laugh, he wanted to enter that place and-
The next time he would make that offer, he wouldn't take no for answer. HE COULDN'T.
But he was sure he wouldn't need to.
If he kept an eye on him.
And tonight would be the perfect night to scout this new partner's house.

-

Silently he hid in the backroom, giving Breadbear the finishing touches to his creation. If he send him to attack, he would probably have five minutes or so to get out.
Hopefully Old Sport would get the hint and leave as well, it would be a shame if the poor boy would be captured by the police... he would have to find a way to get him out in that case.
And he would need to keep him safe.
Now, now, what should he program Breadbear to go after? It would need to be something that the police and Phone Guy shared, while keeping out Old Sport.
What would get them in the same category? They were all manipulative, corrupt, selfish underfucked faggots-
Wait.
Underfucked?! Unfucked!
Virgins!
But wouldn't that possibly include Old Sport...?
Defeated he sighed. As much as he WANTED to believe that Old Sport had no one before him, he knew that a person that charming, THAT MAGNETIC couldn't be a virgin... also if the reports were true he yiffed a fox in front of everyone, so it couldn't be...
IT HURTS.
But that wasn't his point, right?! They could be great friends without any...
Argh, his head hurts... he wanted to bash the back of his head in to get rid of this GODAMN ITCH-
Ahahahaha, what was it with him today? His stomach was... tingling... AhahahHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
It was time! Time for a great escape!
Time to save Old Sport from prison.
And from himself.
That guy just didn't know what was good for him.
He would have to teach him.
And it would probably be a good thing if he got hurt working for Phoney, maybe it would teach him a thing or two about that corrupted creature.
They would meet again.
Old Sport was like him.
And would come back.
Come back to him.
Come back to Freddy's!
And then they would make a deal that both of them liked.
"STOP RIGHT THERE!"
Ah, the police... time for the show!
"Go get 'em, Breaddy! GET YOURSELF SOME VIRGINS!"
With a mighty roar it charged outside.

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A/N:
So... yeay?
THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I DON'T GET REQUESTS.
H E L P M E.
Well, at least time it's not crack, just very uncanon, so I hope you couldenjoy this... if not then tell me why! x3