Chapter Text
“George!?"
Quackity stood in the small room, shell-shocked and frozen in place. His brother had hardly changed since the last time he saw him. He still wore those stupid goggles.
George coughed uncomfortably, "Hello, Quackity." He said, fidgeting with his hands. "How have you been?"
He said nothing, only glaring at his brother. There was nothing George could say at this point to get Quackity to forgive him. Instead, he took a seat next to Sapnap, leaning on the table and adamantly ignoring the pounding in his head. It was similar to the pain he felt the day George left.
He remembers it like it was yesterday.
"It's dangerous , George!" Sam yelled from the kitchen. Quackity sat on the stairs, holding his knees to his chest, eyes welling up with tears. "You don't even know this guy!"
"I know, Dad! But this is important to me! He said he knows how to make it better!"
"The curse isn't going to be lifted because some guy read a few words from a book!"
"How do you know!? Maybe it will!"
There was a loud clatter, it sounded like Sam had dropped the spoon he was using. "I don't like this, George. How am I supposed to know you're safe when I can't reach you?" He said desperately.
George took a deep breath. "You just have to trust me, Dad. Please. Just...trust me." He said, so quietly Quackity had to lean forward just to get the gist.
He heard his dad sigh. "Fine. But don't expect your brother to be so forgiving." Sam said.
He heard them moving and immediately raced up the stairs as quietly as possible, holding his necklace so it wouldn't jingle. George was leaving them. He was leaving them and it was all Quackity's fault.
Later that night, George would knock on his door. "Can I come in?" He'd ask. Quackity would say yes and he'd watch his older brother shuffle in, adorned in a dark blue cloak (a gift from his dearly departed mother), those dumb goggles, and a bag at his side.
Quackity sat up in bed, his arms wrapped around his legs. The 15 year old felt years younger when George sat on the edge, like he used to when Quackity would wake up from a nightmare as a child. Now, the notion was less than comforting.
"I'm going to get you help, Alex." He'd said, lifting the goggles from his eyes, revealing his different colored irises. Quackity used to think George was his guardian angel, with his pointed ears and glowing freckles. But now he didn't know what to think of his brother. "We'll find a way to fix it. I've met someone who knows about this...book that can cure it."
Quackity looked away from him. "How do you know it's real?" He whispered. "How do you know it'll work?" He was silent for a moment and then...
"How do I know you won't forget about me?"
"Well, I don't know if the book will work, nor do I know if it's real. But I could never forget you." George said earnestly. "Never. You're my brother, Quackity. Biological or not."
Then why are you leaving? , he'd wanted to ask, why are you leaving me alone?
"Do you know when you'll be back?" He asked, picking at his blanket.
George looked down, "Dream said the book is difficult to find, so it may take a while. I'll be back as soon as possible." He promised.
Funny how ‘soon’ turned into five years, Quackity thought miserably, tuning back into the conversation.
“So, we all know why we’re gathered here today, correct?” Eret said from the head of the table. “Sam was deemed guilty for an attempt of assassination on the princess.”
Punz and another kid, around Ranboo’s age, dressed in a lot of purple whispered to each other. They probably didn’t know about that.
“Ponk was unsuccessful in his mission, which is obvious.” Wait, what? “Granted, our plan was a tad bit flawed—“
“I’m sorry,” Quackity interrupted, standing, “you planned the attempted assassination?” He asked, looking around the room. “You all did?”
Eret shuffled nervously, “It wasn’t a real assassination attempt, Q—“
He took a step backward, the chair screeching as he did. “You—you planned that? How could you do that? Niki is my-my friend !” He all but shouted. “She’s kind and funny and she’s nothing like her parents!”
Sapnap stood from his spot next to him. “Quackity, you need to calm down—“
“No, you need to listen!” Quackity seethed, stepping away from his friends. “You can’t just pretend to try and assassinate the princess! What was even the point behind it? Not only that, what if Techno had gotten in the way? What if the Prince of Manberg had gotten in the way?”
The kid in purple made a noncommittal noise, “Technically he did get in the way.” He muttered. Quackity glared at him.
“I don’t even know who some of you are!” He said, focusing back on Eret. “It’s your fault my dad is in jail. None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t tried to meddle in things that won’t change.”
Wilbur sent him a pained look. “Quackity, you can’t actually believe—“ He started.
“And you!” He said, cutting Wilbur off and pointing at George. “You said you would ‘be back soon’. I don’t think five fucking years counts as ‘soon’, George. Maybe I was foolish to think you would actually find a cure with your stupid ‘Dream’ friend.”
George took a step forward, “Quackity—“
“I thought that maybe I would finally be free.” He sighed and hugged himself. “If you guys aren’t going to help me find actual evidence to save my dad, I’m leaving.”
He hurried out of the room, hearing footsteps behind him. Quackity didn’t turn around and instead went outside to sit on the steps of the flower shop. Karl and Sapnap soon sat down on either side of him.
“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, Quack-meister.” Karl whispered, leaning his head on his shoulder. “We didn’t think—we just—“
“We thought you would hate us.” Sapnap finished, gently taking Quackity’s hand. “It’s not everyday you find out your best friends are staging a coup against the royal family.”
Quackity snorted against his better judgment, leaning his own head on Karl’s. “You guys don’t know them like I do, I guess.” He muttered after a while, “Niki has nothing against hybrids, she’s getting married to one in case you haven’t noticed. And she’s friends with me.”
Karl took his other hand, messing with it absentmindedly. “I don’t doubt it. I guess Eret just wanted to scare her parents or something. We hadn’t planned on Schlatt being there.” He said.
“Schlatt has a small god complex, I think.” The other two chuckled lightly. “But he’s a good guy. He’s on our side.”
“You’ve met Schlatt?”
Quackity snorted, “You guys met him too. That guy, Jay, from earlier? That was Schlatt.” He said.
They both shot up. “It was ?” Karl asked, incredulous. “Oh my god, it was.”
Sapnap groaned and put his head in his hands. “Of course it was. How could we have been so stupid?” Suddenly, he straightened, eyes zeroing in on Quackity.
“You were the one that snuck them out of the castle!?” He exclaimed and Quackity slapped a hand over his mouth, rolling his eyes.
“Yes, you nimrod, I do it all the time. I should’ve known bringing three people out would cause suspicion.” He said, making a face of disgust as Sapnap licked his palm. “It was stupid of me.”
Karl scoffed, “Damn right it was. Quackity is dogwater, your honor? He’s an actual nimrod?” He said, crossing his arms.
Sapnap smirked, “Karl is right? Quackity is dogwater?” He said, leaning into his friend’s face.
Quackity chuckled, shoving Sapnap’s face away, “Ok, you two, shut up before I punt both of you.” He said with no real heat, obvious in the way he wrapped them both in his wings.
What? It was cold.
Karl and Sapnap’s faces went a little pink. “How are your wings so warm?” Karl muttered, lightly brushing his feathers.
Sapnap lit a small fire in his palm and held it out in front of the three of them. “See, I can be warm too, Karl.” He said with faux jealousy. The other two snickered, and Quackity felt the weight on his shoulders grow a little lighter.
He’d be alright. For now, at least.