The gang sat in the waiting room of the police station. They had been there for about 5 hours now.

Jessica had fallen asleep on Carlton's shoulder while he sat there reading the comics in the newspaper. Jason was leaning into Marla's embrace as they both sat there on the couch. Marla stroked her fingers through Jason's hair as he sighed. Marla was trying to comfort him, because unlike the others, he had been panicking the most. But, it was to be expected. He was still very young, still very inexperienced. Something like this put him on edge. He didn't want to sit around waiting. He wanted to find Charlie as soon as possible. Which was understandable. They all did. Especially John.

He was frustrated and on edge too. Unlike Jason, he wasn't straight up panicking, he was angry and felt that way for a reason. The others knew it. They knew that John had a crush on Charlie, even back when they were kids. But now those feelings were even stronger. John tapped his foot impatiently and sighed.

"This is ridiculous," he grumbled. Marla, Carlton, Jason, and Lamar all looked up at him. "We've been here for 3 hours, and they still can't even tell us anything!" He shouted.

"John, this is an investigation now. They probably wouldn't tell us all the nitty gritty details. Not only that, but they don't just find info within a few seconds. It takes time," Carlton said. Obviously knowing how these things work from his father.

"I could care less if they didn't tell us where the guy buys his coffee!" John retorted. "What I do want to know, is why has it been 3 hours and we still don't have any information about this guy or anything else about it!"

Jessica started waking up due to his yelling.

"If I knew I'd have to sit here for hours and do nothing but sit in awkward silence and watch a muted TV," he said pointing up to the small TV that was attached to the ceiling, which had been on the news channel for a while now.

"Then I would've gone after the guy myself. I'm sure it wouldn't have taken as long."

Carlton opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something back to him in defense, but closed it upon realizing there was nothing he could say. John was right.

"What's with all the yelling?" Jessica yawned rubbing her sleepy eyes. She leaned up from Carlton's shoulder and he took the opportunity to roll it.

"John's just complaining about the long time it's taken to hear about anything," Lamar responded. He was leaning forward in his chair, fingers intersecting. He looked much older and very serious sitting like that.

"I just think we at least deserve to hear SOMETHING at this point." John spat. Just as he did Officer Clay came in, holding some files.

"Dad?" Carlton said straightening up.

"Hey kids," he responded. Most of the gang straightened up, except for Lamar and John. They were anxious to know what info they had. "I'm truly sorry it's taken so long." Clay said apologetically. John quietly scoffed.

"It's alright, have you found out anything?" Lamar asked not moving from his position.

"Yes, we have. We looked through some files as well as the police database to try and find a match to the plate number."

"And?" Marla asked, pushing him to finish.

"We found a match to a car that fits the description you gave us." He opened the file and showed them the paper that was printed out. They all came in close to it. It had some info, a date, and two pictures. One was of the car and the other was-

"That's the man I saw!" Marla blurted out. They turned to her.

"Are you sure?" Carlton asked. "I think the silhouette of the guy we saw was much thinner."

"He might've been, but the hair is the same. It's him I swear!" She said again. They turned to each other then to Officer Clay. He looked surprised, his face then slumped, a look of sorrow was now upon his face.

"What?" Marla asked.

"I was afraid you would say that," he responded softly. He closed up the file. "If that's the case, I'll need to run back to my office and pick up a few more files. Then, I'll take you guys to my house. I would rather discuss this serious matter there."

"Are we going to be able to go back to our hotel rooms?" Jessica asked worryingly.

"I'm afraid not," he said tucking the file under his armpit. "It's too dangerous to leave you kids on your own, with that man on the loose."

"But our stuff-" She started.

"I'll send some officers to pick up your things. They'll all be brought to my house by the time evening rolls around."

"What's with sudden concern?" John asked stiffly. Obviously still irritated about the long wait time.

"If what you said is true," Clay said turning to the door. "Then there's a chance he might go after you all too."

A silence fell among the gang. Jessica held the back of her hand against her mouth. Marla drew Jason tighter and closer to her, while burying her face into the top of his head. Lamar dropped his head and stared at the floor intensely. While John furrowed his eyebrows, taking what Clay said in. And Carlton looked very concerned.

"But hey," Clay said with an obviously fake enthusiasm. A few looked at him. "Kids, it'll be like a sleepover. You'll be at our place." He said looking back at them with a painfully fake, worried smile. None of them responded. He dropped his smile, before opening the door and shutting it behind him. Leaving them all in silence.

Clay quickly walked back to his office, almost running into two people. He tossed the files on his desk, before opening one of the filing cabinets against the wall. It read, "Suspects". He looked at the name labels of each. Before immediately found the file he needed, thanks to it being in alphabetical order. It was labeled, "Afton". He pulled it out and shut the cabinet. He stared at it for a second. The file was torn slightly on the sides, as well as being a darker shade of yellow. It was showing it's age. He opened it and immediately one of the photos slipped out and drifted back and forth before hitting the ground. He reached down and picked it up. Once again, Clay found himself face to face with the man who had been behind the murders, 10 years back. William Afton.

William looked so happy. So unsuspecting. He was a robust business man. Always seemed to smile a lot. To kids, he probably looked like a younger, jolly Santa Claus. And he did seem like that to adults too. Yet behind those grey eyes, was a cold blooded serial killer. A mentally unstable man who probably took great, sadistic pleasure in killing those children. He could just imagine that face splattered in blood, still smiling. Clay shivered.

He had felt so lucky that Carlton wasn't one of them that had been there and was picked. He remembered after getting home each day during the investigation, that he wanted to crawl into his son's bed and hold him close. Never wanting to let go.

This same smiling man haunted his nightmares for such a long time. He remembered one of his most common ones.

Where he dreamt that he was in the restaurant. That there was blood on the floor of Fazbear's Pizza. Except it wasn't Michael's blood. It was Carlton's. He heard William's laugh echoing down the hall. He started running down the hall, following the blood trail, trying desperately to find his son. But... No matter how much he ran, he could never find him. He called out for him. And William's laughter only got louder and louder. Mocking Clay for his inability to save Carlton. He felt tears stream down his face. Before waking up in the middle of the night, to find he had been crying in his sleep. He hated those dreams.

Clay snapped out of his thoughts. Shaking his head before he cleared his throat. He focused once more on William's face. On second viewing, there was something that stuck out. Something, familiar. He had seen this face recently. He put the file on his desk and ran down to the "Job Profiling" room, with the photo still in hand. He dug around through the drawers of files, making a complete mess out of things. Looking and looking until. He found it! He pulled out the file and opened it. His eyes widen at the photo paper clipped to the forms.

It was him. The man in the picture looked like a disheveled mess. He looked older, he looked tired, he looked like he let himself go completely. The man was much thinner than William, Like the kids had said, he thought. But there was no doubt that it was William. He held the old picture up to the new one. The face was definitely the same. He still had those grey eyes. Except, now, they looked even more dead than before. If that was even possible.

Name: "Dave Miller"

Clay's breath hitched when he saw the job application. More specifically what it was for. He applied for security guard of the mall that surrounded the old pizzeria a few years back. Before the mall closed. His heart sank. That would've explained why he was there. And it also explained...

He closed the file and grabbed it before running back to his office. He threw the files in a stack and scooped them up into his arms. He told his team that he was leaving, and that he might not be back for a couple of days. He hurried back to the waiting room, seeing the kids through the clear glass, still sitting in there. He needed to get them home. There was much to discuss.