Work Text:
Tik....
Toc....
Tik....
Toc....
Tik....
Toc....
The clock’s continuous sound was the only thing Duane could hear. The desk in front of him had many many documents, old and some relatively new photographs, newspapers all worn out and grimy. He really should wear gloves every once in a while.
Duane looked at them with that kind of look only a sleep deprived lunatic could give, trying to piece together something that has any resemblance to coherence was beginning to prove impossible.
Everyone around town knows about the cryptids that haunt Hurricane, a bit fewer know that they most definitely originate from that accursed Freddy Fazbear's pizza, however Duane is the only one who actually looks into these strange occurrences.
"NONE OF THIS MAKES ANY SENSE!!!” Duane shouted, this was the third time he said that tonight, at this rate he would wake up the neighbours–he wouldn't want to get a noise complaint again.
He looked at his collection again and groaned.
The most recent photo was dated to last week but it definitely looked older, it was a blurry picture of a 8 foot mess of slimy wires dawning some kind of mask, it didn't look like any animatronic he has seen ever in his life. He put the photo in the “maybe Mike knows what this is” pile.
He couldn't place where these things were coming from or what they even were! They were definitely animatronics, he could convince anyone of that, though.. These robots did not look like any of Fazbear's official casts and Duane was most definitely the Fazbear aficionado, he knew everything there is to know about these wonderful little characters, they plagued him as long as he could remember! He managed to even get his hands upon an official Fredbear plush! So to say he wasn't qualified would be a crime–not that anyone was even saying that.
Then why couldn't he figure this out?
He just couldn't understand why he didn't immediately figure it out, it was the one thing he was good at.
Duane put his head on the table, it was almost 3 am by now, he should be asleep.
“Maybe I just need more coffee” he murmured to himself.
He couldn't get up
“I'll just finish this tomorrow…”
.
.
.
Duane's alarm clock rang loudly, waking him up in a panic, he needs to lower the volume on that damn thing.
8:03 AM
He should really get out of bed huh. “Fazbear's fright isn't gonna set itself up!” Well he wasn't the only one setting it up but it's the thought that counts really.
Duane quickly noticed that his bed was … organised?! And CLEAN? He definitely did not leave it like that before he fell asleep– come to think of it he didn't fall asleep in his bed at all! That was so ..strange..
Duane immediately started theorising like the weirdo he was
“Maybe someone broke in and stole all of my evidence!! THIS WAS THEIR PLOY TO DISTRACT ME!!”
He got up and practically ran to his work desk and… nope nothing was gone–in fact everything was organised into neat piles.
On the desk was a new sticky note, Duane knew it wasn't his because the handwriting didn't look like someone wrote it in a hurry.
He took a closer look at it–maybe he did need glasses like his dad.
"Duane, stop falling asleep on your evidence you'll ruin it."
Ah. Of course it was Mike–who else would it be really, but Duane would admit that it was really nice of him to clean After Duane.
"Ps I left you breakfast if you're hungry, hope you slept well.”
Well that was even nicer, too nice perhaps… what if he's plotting something, what if he knows something!!
Duane left his desk alone to actually get dressed–he bet all his friends were worried about him not showing up yet.
It didn't take long however due to all his clothes matching him, it was the harmony of disharmony.
To say Duane was curious what Mike made would be an understatement, neither of them cooked usually often just ordering something when Mike even ate–which was rare in itself. Hell he didn't even know if Mike could cook.
Duane looked at the plate in front of him, it was definitely supposed to be pancakes, they didn't look the best but when he sat down and ate it he did not mind.
It was nice to have someone who cares.