Fixing Stitches (Mike Schmidt x Reader)

Questioned

I sat in a small room in handcuffs behind a metal chair. I was sweating like mad and couldn't control my thoughts. Before I could control my confusion, a tall man in a police uniform entered the room. He had with him, a clipboard and pen.

"Miss L/N" he said "do you know why your here?"

"No, I-I mean yes" I didn't know what to say "I...uh"

"You have been accused of the murder of 4 children, as has your co worker, and escaped prisoner, Vincent Bishop"

"T-that wasn't me" I protest "I was the one who called 911, I saved my friend"

"Mhm" he mumbled "we've dusted the knife for prints and found yours and his, so the only thing we can do now, is gain enough proof to prove someone guilty, or we could wait for your friend to wake up"

"Wake up?" I ask

"He's in a hospital induced coma to help him heal better" he said

I sit back in my chair and stare down into my lap. Mikes in a coma?

"Now, do you have any relations to Mr Bishop?" He asked

I was silent from shock.

"Ma'am?" He said questionably

"Oh, um, no. Well, yes. Uh, we work together at Freddy's" I answer awkwardly

"Right" he said as he wrote something down.

He continued to question me for about half an hour, but my mind was so out of it. I couldn't stop thinking about Mike. I hope he's alright.

Vincent's POV

The metal chair I sat on was uncomfortable and my wrists were beginning to sting from the rubbing of the cuffs. Every time I moved my hands, the clinking of the chains pushed my further and further to the brink of insanity. My eyes glanced around the room every now and then, I had been in this room before. It haunted me. Like a dark cloud hovering over me as I walked down a bright road of pleasure. The door gave a small creak and an officer walked into the room with a small clipboard in hand. He looked young for the job, but nonetheless, he seemed experienced as he began to talk to me.

"Vincent Bishop?" He said "do you know why you are here?"

I didn't answer. If I were to speak, it would come out as a yell, or something worse. If I could just play innocent a little while longer, y/n would get the blame and I'd be off the hook.

"I need you to answer" he said sternly

I was still reluctant to speak.

He sighed "you escaped the prison facility and have been accused of the murder of four children at Freddy Fazbears Pizzeria"

I looked down. I had forgotten about my escape. I was screwed either way.

"Your co worker f/n l/n has also been accused, so we need proof on who the murderer was" he said

My breath became shaky as I was overcome by this new emotion. I felt sympathy for y/n. She had done nothing wrong, she had called the police and saved Mike from me. I was the problem. Tears built up in my eyes and I tried to blink them away, but some escaped, falling to my lap in a desperate manor. I tried to take a deep breath, but my throat was dry and it just made it hurt more. I couldn't wipe my eyes, so the tears just kept dripping down my cheeks. I wanted to speak, scream anything, but something inside my was churning.

Suddenly, without warning "I-I did i/it" I said shakily "i-i k-killed the kids"

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Sorry for the short chapter again.