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Schlatt stared down at the light yellow paper that his 12 year old son had handed him with the most bored expression one could imagine.
“My teacher said that it would be best if you went… that way you can see all my classes!” Tubbo enthused. “Stuff I made is hung up on the wall…”
Schlatt narrowed his eyes at the slice of tree in his hand. Tubbo looked very proud to be handing his dad this paper formally, rather than getting it in the mail and allowing him to brush it off just like every other year.
It wasn’t that Schlatt didn’t care about Tubbo and his schoolwork, but rather, he didn’t care about the people he would inevitably meet. He was bound to despise Tubbo’s teachers and every single parent in the classrooms… surely none of them would be like him. He couldn’t even remember how these parent-teacher conferences would go… did they all sit in a circle of chairs and talk on their kids behalf?
… No that was rehab, wasn’t it?
What was even the point of the meeting? Surely their kids told them everything they needed to know… at least that’s what Tubbo did. God, the kid wouldn’t shut the hell up half the time. Especially if anything in the day involved Tommy, which it usually did, considering the boy was in more than half of Tubbo’s classes.
“Kid, I’ll be honest here-” Schlatt looked up from the invitation. “I really don’t want anything to do with this bullshit.”
“But… dad, my teachers will ask me weird questions like they always do if we don’t go.” Tubbo threw a higher, mocking pitch to his voice- “Tubbo, where were you and your parents? Why didn’t you show up when we politely asked you to?”
Schlatt laughed lightly at his son’s impression of his teachers. “Why the hell are they so up in your business?”
Tubbo shrugged. Schlatt shook his head and looked down at the paper once again.
“Tomorrow night? Tubbo, how long have you had this?”
“Uh, Miss G handed them out last week,” Tubbo admitted.
No wonder it was all crumbled up, seemingly forgotten at the bottom of Tubbo’s backpack.
“Tommy will be there!” Tubbo suddenly blurted, and that’s when shit didn’t look so grim.
If Tommy’s dad, Phil, was there half the time, then he was less likely to feel so oscillated.
“I don’t know. I guess I’ll try to think about it.”
And he did, for once. Usually when it came to things he was indecisive about, Schlatt would just brush it all off and never think about it again- much similar to the way he handled every other parent-teacher conference. But Tubbo was right- the teachers would be on their asses until they finally showed up.
He loathed the idea of having to talk to the fellow parents at the conference… he didn’t know anyone except Phil, and even then he wouldn’t be in every class for Schlatt to fall back on. Would the other parents ask him about where he’s been the last few years? Would they gang up on him and beat him up? Sure he was getting a bit bigger in stature and hitting the gym every now and then while chugging protein shakes but he was positive someone there would be bigger and very willing to snap him in half.
Despite it probably being nothing like his high school experience, he decided he would have to confide in his only true confidant.
“Tubbo, how long do we have to stay at this thing?”
Schlatt glanced into the rearview mirror to lock eyes with his son, who was sitting with his hands clasped in the backseat. One of his shirt’s buttons was missing off his light green dress-up shirt and his nicest pair of jeans were a bit scuffed, but Schlatt thought the boy looked rather presentable.
“I dunno, a couple hours?” Tubbo fiddled with his collar a bit. “I really don’t think we needed to dress up for this.”
Schlatt had the car parked in the parking lot of the school. He scanned over the participants of tonight’s event.
“Yeah… I think I forgot to iron a part of this shirt and now I look fucking dumb.”
Schlatt turned his head to where Quackity was sitting in the passenger seat.
Oh yeah, he took Quackity. Forgot to mention that.
“Look, I didn’t want to chance underdressing in case these fuckers are fancy.” Schlatt huffed.
“J… it’s a middle school parent-teacher conference. The other parents probably don’t care either.” Quackity folded his arms over his chest.
Schlatt narrowed his eyes at the duck. He had a point, but he didn’t want to show up looking like an idiot in jeans and a t-shirt.
“Stop your whining, the both of you. Let’s just get this shit over with.” Schlatt sighed and opened his car door, followed by Quackity and Tubbo.
They made their way to Tubbo’s first class- with Tubbo leading the way of course.
“So… about this thing. We have to go to all of your classes? Talk to a teacher for some 15 minutes?” Schlatt bent down over his son as they walked, speaking in a hushed tone as to not make other parents’ heads turn.
“I think so, yeah.” Tubbo shrugged. He was holding Quackity’s hand as the three of them walked. He would’ve been holding his dad’s hand as well if they weren’t in his pockets.
“Schlatt, just relax. It’ll be fine.” Quackity’s voice was gentle yet firm. It grounded Schlatt just a little bit, just like it always did. The man felt his shoulders relax a bit as they neared the classroom.
“Ugh, it smells like a school.” As Schlatt muttered this, a woman and her husband shot him a look as if he’d killed someone. Jesus fucking Christ.
Schlatt held the door open for Quackity and his son and followed in after them, careful to make sure there wasn’t anyone coming before he let go of the door.
It was like walking into a goddamn crowded subway full of middle-aged adults. No one there was as young as he was-- a good portion of adults must have been well into their late thirties while he was over here, barely even 30 himself. No one here was like him; he shoved his hands into his pockets as he looked around at all the happy couples and their kids.
Everyone there had a spouse of some sort- so many smiling faces and parents that didn’t look like they struggled half as much as he did. He was glad that they dressed somewhat nicely because he didn’t catch sight of anyone with unkempt hair in this place. Good call on his part.
Quackity must have sensed his unease, because the younger man laced his arm in between Schlatt’s gently, a silent way of assuring him that everything was bound to be fine, that he wasn’t alone. Schlatt only side-eyed him as he kept his hands glued to the warmth and safety of his pockets, but he was sure Quackity knew how thankful he was.
“Dad, can I go hang out with Tommy?” Tubbo asked, glancing at both Schlatt and Quackity, almost as if he was addressing them both.
“Sure,” the two of them said together. They turned to each other in surprise.
“Yes, you can, just don’t do anything stupid.” Schlatt spoke- once again he was met with looks.
Tubbo nodded and ran off to where Tommy was on the other side of the room. Schlatt caught sight of Phil, who was talking to another parent.
“God, you look like you’re gonna implode on yourself.” Schlatt heard Quackity say as he tapped the man’s arm. “You need some fresh air already?”
“Shut the hell up, there’s just too many people in this one room.” Schlatt breathed. “Where even is the teacher? Everyone looks the goddamn same.”
“That would be me.”
Schlatt and Quackity, while remaining linked, turned around in a sweat to see who the voice came from.
“Oh, uh, hello.” Quackity spoke, holding out a hand.
“I’m Miss G, most likely your kid’s teacher. Otherwise I would be alarmed that you were here.” She gave a small smile. “You are…?”
“Uh, J Schlatt. Tubbo’s my kid.” Schlatt pointed a finger where Tubbo and Tommy were poking each other with sticks they must have found outside.
“Ah,” Miss G looked between the two of them. “I should’ve known by the horns and tail.”
Schlatt laughed, maybe a bit too hard. Quackity nudged him a bit, keeping a smile plastered on his face. It was all too natural for him, Schlatt thought. Quackity looked so at ease.
“I wasn’t aware Tubbo had two… dads.” Miss G’s eyebrows raised as her smile wavered. “Is this why he didn’t make anything for mother’s day?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Quackity spoke. “I get a card every year,” he said matter-of-factly, like he was truly proud. Neither of them commented on the mistake of calling them “Tubbo’s dads” because… well it was true in a way.
“Lovely. Such a creative way to handle things.” Miss G nodded. “Tubbo is a great student, we appreciate him in our school very much.”
“Well, he must have a harsh life at home with two dads. Makes sense that he would have to be well behaved.”
Schlatt and Quackity turned to face a mother with her husband and child huddled together off to the side of the conversation. Schlatt’s ears twitched.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Woah, easy pal. Wouldn’t want to get your horns twisted in a knot.” The husband remarked, leaving his small family in gross bits of laughter. Miss G had been distracted by another family and failed to notice the rising conflict. Quackity’s grip on Schlatt’s arm tightened ever so slightly.
“What’s it like for your kid to grow up without a nurturing figure? Unless, one of you fulfills that place, which I’m sure you do.” The mother wasn’t necessarily trying to be rude, but… she was being rude.
“You mentioned you’re the woman in the relationship?” She turned to Quackity, whose wings were starting to flatten to his back. “Makes sense.”
“Uh, what the fuck, lady? Mind your own business. You clearly don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Schlatt started to talk with his hands going about the air.
“Hey, don’t talk to my wife that way.” The man who was standing behind his wife spoke up. Their kid looked like they really didn’t want to be there.
Schlatt didn’t want to be there either.
“Maybe she shouldn’t be spouting stupid shit.” Quackity muttered. Schlatt’s eyes widened with surprise. Usually the duck was the voice of reason, not the voice of havok.
“What did you just say?” The man stepped closer and the kid tried tugging on his shirt.
“I really don’t think he stuttered. It doesn’t even matter, I don’t want to waste my time with you. I’m here for my kid.” Schlatt began to turn away but he felt a firm hand grip his shoulder. He whipped his head around but before he could say or do anything, Miss G was back at their small group.
“Hello! Let’s avoid doing any and all of whatever is about to happen right now!” She said in a chipper tone, taking the man’s hand off of Schlatt.
“Jesus Christ man, keep your hands to yourself.” Schlatt huffed.
“At least I don’t reek of alcohol. Get a handle on that, man. I bet it sucks having a deadbeat dad.”
At that, Quackity swiftly turned on his heel.
“You can’t just go and say shit like that. He’s trying his best, okay? What a low fucking blow.” The small group fell into a silence.
Schlatt’s eyes glistened as Quackity turned around and pushed Schlatt away from the situation and towards the other side of the room where his son was. Despite walking fast, people still caught his shoulders as they moved past him.
“Tubbo, we gotta go. We started a fight and now the girls are heaving.” Schlatt cleared his throat and crossed his arms- Quackity was unattached but he still lingered close.
“Aww, but Tommy and I were just starting our new game called Sticks!” Tubbo frowned.
“You two can finish that another day. Just c’mon.”
Tubbo hugged Tommy and said goodbye before he followed Quackity and his dad to the door of the classroom. Tubbo was rather confused on why they had to leave some 20 minutes after they arrived but he waited to ask questions.
Once they were secure in the car, Schlatt let out a loud sigh.
“...Dad? What happened? Did you pick a fight with Miss G?” Tubbo asked.
“Huh? Oh, no, no. She was fine. It was some other asshole. You don’t have to worry about it.” Schlatt started up the car while he waited for Quackity to come back to the vehicle. He had run off to use the bathroom before they left- at least that’s what he said.
“Ah, sorry we didn’t get to stay long.” Schlatt sighed. “Uh, maybe we can sneak in the classrooms when shit’s closed and you can give me a tour yourself.”
Tubbo giggled. “No Dad, we can’t do that. That’s illegal.”
Schlatt shrugged. Tubbo could tell he felt bad.
“And… it’s okay. You tried your best, right? That’s all that matters?”
Schlatt looked back at his son, who wore a small smile on his face. A small, genuine smile.
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s all that matters.”
Quackity came back into the car just moments after the conversation had ended.
“Ugh, sorry about that. I forgot… something in the classroom. We can go now.”
“What a hold up you are.” Schlatt playfully rolled his eyes and started driving.
Later that night, when Tubbo was in bed, Schlatt and Quackity were out in the living room watching some random movie that they had rented from the supermarket next to Quackity’s house. Schlatt hadn’t been paying attention to much of it at all though; he kept thinking about the events of the night.
“What’s wrong with you?” Quackity asked, nudging the man out of his trance.
“Huh? What?” Schlatt turned to his confidant.
“You have that dumb look on your face again. The one you have when you think too hard about something.” Quackity shrugged. “So, what is it?”
Schlatt was taken aback for a moment, truly impressed by how well this motherfucker could read him just like a book. He let out a sigh.
“I dunno, I just can’t stop thinking about what happened at Tubbo’s school today,” he began. “Why did you stick up for me like that? Why didn’t you just tell them we weren’t even married?”
Quackity blinked. “Saying that would be the same as just throwing you to the dogs, Schlatt.”
Schlatt stared at his feet perched on the coffee table, sitting idly next to Quackity’s.
“I couldn’t just do that.”
The air was warm and the TV wasn’t overwhelmingly loud like it usually was.
“Besides, commit to the bit, you know? They can think whatever they want, we don’t owe them anything.” Quackity threw a hand in the air. “Plus I am kinda like Tubbo’s mom, dad, whatever you wanna call it. I’m always around. There isn’t an ‘Uncle’s Day.’”
Schlatt laughed. “Yeah, you’ve got a point. Just wish I could’ve been like a normal parent. Now they’re all gonna think Tubbo has a shit dad.” Schlatt knew he was pretty shit, but he didn’t need other people knowing that. It was just like Quackity said; he was trying his best.
“You’ll get there, big guy. It takes time. You have that rehab session again next Thursday, remember? You’re on the way.” Quackity smiled, giving a pat to Schlatt’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”
Schlatt tended to believe the man these days.