Chapter Text

Sitting at the staircase of the house of your arch-nemesis, shivering from both the cold and pain wasn’t something someone with pride would willingly do. Yet here Quackity is, in all his glory.

In his defence, his pain-addled brain couldn’t come up with any better solutions to his current situation. His small, golden, puffy wings pressing painfully underneath the thin jersey that barely kept away the biting cold. The one person who could help him had decided to live in the tundra with the man who killed him with zero hesitation.

But on top of all of that, they weren’t even home. Quackity was shit out of luck.

—

Technoblade smiled to himself as the bright, cheery laughter of Phil filled the air around the two as they walked home. The noise filled Techno with a sense of pride, a small smile creeping across his face.

Gathering materials was usually a tedious task, but with Phil at his side, time managed to pass just a tiny bit quicker.

“Uh, Techno..? Do you see that?” Phil looked concerned as they got closer, spotting the cottage but with a new addition to the exterior. From so far away, it was hard to tell what it was, maybe who it was.

“Dear lord, can’t they just let a man retire,” Techno mumbled, already unsheathing his netherite sword. Despite the new tenseness that grew, Philza let out another signature chuckle as they advanced. Techno maybe would have laughed along if it weren’t for the fact that it finally clicked who had situated themselves on their staircase.

Curled up to the side, Quackity lay with his eyes squeezed shut. He looked as much a threat as a kicked puppy, so the pair walked up calmly to the half unconscious man.

“They never give up, do they?” Phil sighed. The whole “butcher army” fiasco wasn’t that far back ago, and Philza had been made well aware of what happened. If Quackity didn’t learn the first time, the realisation that he had no power would come fast when Techno took his last life.

Techno looked almost bored as he approached the smaller man, lifting him by the collar and startling him awake with a quiet whimper.

“Are ‘ya here to kidnap me again or are you just napping in the snow?” The hybrid drawled out in his signature monotone. To his surprise, Quackity didn’t berate him with all cuss words known to man in his defence. Instead, he just gave Techno a glazed-over look which made the man almost concerned. How long had he been out in the snow in that thin jumper?

“I heard Mr. Minecraft lives here,” Quackity slurred out in an attempt at humour, which, quite frankly fell flat. Techno turned his head and threw Philza a confused look over his shoulder, getting an equally as perplexed one back.

“Look, Quackity, you already tried the whole kidnapping thing, which, may I remind you, failed horribly. I doubt you could beat Philza alone or use him as leverage.” Despite the tense situation, Phil smiled from behind Techno. He was right.

Quackity spluttered for a second, looking down at the snowy stairs before steeling himself and looking at the tallest again.

“I need help.”

Techno blanched. Then he laughed a little bit. What?

Phil seemed just as confused but keeping his distance.

“You literally tried to kill me?”

“And you actually killed me, we’re even.”

Before Techno could protest again, Quackity had brought his cold hands to the hand Techno had on his shirt, breathing in before starting again.

“Just- please. Last time you killed me with a pick when I was in full netherite, I won’t be a threat- I- I don’t even have shit on me. I don’t know what to do, I- Phil could-“ Quackity spoke quickly but lowly all in one breath, eyes squeezed shut again as if it was hard for him to admit.

Finally, Phil stepped closer to the shaking man on the stairs, a small look of concern on his face. Quackity is not one to come crawling back to people, especially not someone like Techno who he hated. The sheer change in attitude put Phil on edge. It seemed Techno was being more stubborn, however.

“Look, mate, we can go inside so you don’t die before we can kill you,” Phil half joked, earning an eye-roll from Techno. Of course the blond would invite his friends arch nemesis in.

Techno grunted but let go of Quackity, sending him scrambling on the stairs. “Fine, but do one thing wrong and you’re gone.” Quackity nodded slowly and got up, walking towards the house entrance.

—

Quackity shivered when the heat from inside hit him. He instantly relaxed a tiny bit, not having the energy to keep his guard up. Hopefully the two hosts wouldn’t kill their guest.

The owners of the house took the lead and walked into the dining room, sitting around a humble dinner table, leaving Quackity to awkwardly stand alone in front of them. What was this, an interrogation?

When no one spoke, he decided to take initiative.

“I- okay. I n-need Philza’s help. You- I…” Quackity trailed off. The bad thing about finally getting warmed up again was the pain seeping back with the sense of touch. But he grit his teeth.

Philza seemed to notice his discomfort. “You good, mate? Why do you need me out of all people, can’t someone in L’Manburg help you?” At the mention of the nation, the shortest glared a little extra at the two, both of them seeming unbothered.

“You’re the only one who- you know w- about wings, right?”

The silence that weighed in the room crushed Quackity little by little as he started shifting around in place, trying his best to keep his composure.

“…Yes?” It was true, but Phil had no idea what warranted the question. He was sure he was the only bird hybrid on the server, so suddenly getting asked was suspicious. Techno had seemed to pick up on the same thing, looking more on edge and subconsciously leaning towards the eldest.

Without more of a word, Quackity reached his hands up as a sign of peace, and he then slowly went to unzip his jumper.

When it was finally shed, a pair of small, puffy gold wings spread. The wings tips only reached to Quackity’s hips when folded, nothing like the large grey ones Phil sported proudly on his back. On top of that, the fluffy feathers were tussled and a mess, clumped together almost painfully, covered with grime and concerningly enough, blood. The left wing was bent at an uncomfortable angle on top of that, making it a real sore sight to see.

A crushing silence filled the room once again, making Quackity self-consciously curl in on himself, wings folding close to his body. All Philza and Techno could do was sit and stare at the image before them, so many unanswered questions hanging in the air. Techno was the first one to break the silence.

“Wow. You look like shit.”