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“You know, if you feel like going camping, you just have to ask.”
Bad couldn’t help the small flinch at the sudden intrusion. Still, he only spared Skeppy a glance before turning away, staring out across the area with blank eyes. He’d been doing it a lot recently; as if it was his natural state. He wasn’t blind to his friend’s concerned looks when he did so, it only made sense why it would freak them out, he had spent weeks doing nothing but blankly staring after the Crimson. But an apathetic part of him wanted to ignore it, because pretending to care when his bones felt as if they were made of concrete was so unappealing. He just didn’t have the energy to try most days.
Bad wasn’t normally so stationary.
He saw blue out of the corner of his eye as Skeppy moved to sit next to him on the rooftop of their shared mansion. He was sitting a foot or so away, and Bad appreciated it. Skeppy had learned fairly early that Bad wasn’t especially fond of sudden contact or hugs anymore. Bad hadn’t had the heart to say anything about it, but it had been painfully obvious to his friends. He felt guilty for it, but not enough to say anything about the change. He appreciated it too much.
“You tired?”
He hummed a bit, his throat felt numb in a way. Bad wondered briefly if he had to speak, it would be so much easier to not bother with words or explanations at times like these. He would never want to be mute, but the idea of being so when he felt so empty was alluring. He just didn't want to talk, as if it would make his whole world crash down around him.
Or maybe he was just tired.
“You know I’m here if you want to talk, right?”
Bad glanced over at him, putting on a quick smile to ease him. “Of course, Geppy. Don’t worry so much.”
Skeppy didn’t look especially amused, raising an eyebrow pointedly. Him not having on his box usually meant easy communication, and Bad always treated those moments like precious jewels. But right now, he didn’t like how vulnerable he felt under Skeppy’s naked stare. There was nothing between them really, aside from the flimsy cover of the night and his hood.
He turned away from Skeppy, the hood blocking out any attempt at eye contact.
“Bad, come on. You need to talk to me, this isn’t you,” Skeppy groaned. “Snap out of it!”
And all of a sudden, he wasn’t there. He was in a grass field overlooking the water, heavy armor encasing him and a heavy presence hanging over his head.
The Crimson’s presence.
“What is going on with you?” Quackity pleaded with him. Bad had never seen him look so scared, so enraged at something he had done. Quackity was shouting, voice cycling through different emotions as he tried to reach him. Looking back, Bad could see how detached he seemed. Like nothing Quackity did really mattered when it came down to it. Like he was nothing.
“Y̴̨͖͙͚̲̆̽͐̈́͌̽ö̸̩́̒u̵̟̔ ̵̳̖̜̕f̴͖̙̜͛̇̉a̵͈͊̒i̶͙̳͈̦͕̮͐̈̈̓l̷̢̲͙̈́̀͐̉̈́ȩ̵̨̹̤̲̣̍̎̄̆̿̑ḍ̴́͋̄͝͝ ̶̧̺̪̻̬̈́̈m̷̳̗͛͊̄͆ẻ̸̝͚̱̰͌.”
The voice sent shivers down his spine, dousing him with shame and guilt. He hated how guilty he felt for it, even though he should have been proud. The egg was evil, it was a parasite that made him betray and hurt his friends. It whispered that he was worthless, that he had ruined everything. That he would never see Skeppy again.
“̵I̵f̵ ̵y̶o̴u̴ ̶w̸i̵l̷l̶ ̵n̷o̴t̶ ̶b̶r̴i̵n̵g̸ ̷m̶e̶ ̸t̴h̷e̸ ̸s̸a̴c̴r̷i̸f̵i̷c̷e̶ ̴I̵ ̵d̶e̵s̸i̴r̴e̸,̸ ̷t̵h̵e̶n̶ ̵I̷ ̴s̴h̴a̶l̸l̶ ̴d̵o̴ ̶i̶t̸ ̸m̵̧̉y̷̟͌s̶͎̍e̷͇͠l̷̯͂f̸̭͐.̷̰̇.̸”
He shifted on his feet, balancing his sword in preparation to strike. But it was not Bad who was doing so, not Bad who cut off Quackity with a sudden slash to his thigh.
Quackity cried out in pain as his leg collapsed under him, trying to pull out weapons he hadn’t had ready. He had trusted that Bad wouldn’t hurt him, even if he was corrupted. Bad could never hurt him really.
The betrayal in Quackity’s eyes made Bad want to vomit.
“No, wait please stop,” He begged, willing his hands to drop the sword and trident, to stop standing over Quackity so arrogantly, to stop the smirk that spread across his lips. “Quackity, I’m sorry! It’s not me, I swear- please believe me, I’m not-“
“W̸͍h̸̦͗a̴̳̽ṭ̸̐’̷̭̇s̴̬̋ ̴̫̕w̶̲͗r̸̟͝o̶͘͜n̷͙̾g̷̛̹,̷̡͑ ̶̣̓l̸̺í̵͚ẗ̵̥́t̸̠͘l̷̙̔ë̶͇́ ̴͇͗ŝ̶̤ë̵̗r̸̦v̸̥͆a̸̓͜n̵͎̐t̷̙̒?̸̳̏ ̵͑ͅC̵̮͋ạ̷̛n̷͙͂’̴̩͝t̴̻́ ̵̪͑ÿ̵͙o̴̟͐ū̴͇ ̴̮̕c̸̠̏o̵̭͠n̷͋ͅt̴̰̎ŕ̴͉o̷͍̿l̷̠͋ ̸̟̆y̴̙̓o̸̯̒u̸͚͑r̷͕͑ŝ̴͈e̷̘͐l̴̙̇f̵̰̍?̷̨̋”
Tears stung at his eyes as he took another step forward, stepping onto Quackity’s hand where it was supporting his weight. His trident was sent back into his hotbar as he threaded his fingers between the hair that poked out from Quackity’s beanie, yanking it up so he was forced to look at him.
“I’m so sorry, Quackity. Quackity please, no don’t-“
Quackity let out a scream as Bad sent his sword clean through his leg, hot blood spraying out and covering him. Bad screamed as well, howling in frustration as he tried desperately to stop. His voice broke in his throat, rendering him mute for a moment before it broke back into volume. The egg sent waves of amusement to Bad, filling him with a sick sense of accomplishment as Quackity heaved for breath.
“Ŷ̷̦̄o̵̧̮͠u̷̹͔͆͌ ̴̮̓̔͜m̵͖̈́ü̸͇͚s̶͉̭̆ț̷̏ ̸̘͎̎n̵͖̓o̶̞̓͛ť̴̤̟ ̵̠̌c̸̫̀̓ä̵̲́̀r̸̳͑̍e̷̮̿ ̴͕̋̕f̶̩̝̌̂o̴̮̺̚r̴̦̼̃́ ̸̬͖̿t̵̢̀̏͜h̵̨̗̒ĩ̴͚s̸̢̹̓̄ ̷͇̔o̷̜̒͘n̶̲̣͋̽e̴͈͛̚ͅ ̷̬͗v̸̧͆e̶̤̚r̶͕̟̽y̵͍̩̓ ̸͎̟̏m̶̧̮̍̑u̶̧̘̅̍c̶̰̃h̵̡̧̒.̴̮̝̿̚ ̴͔̒Ỵ̵̯̏o̶̗͝ü̸͎ ̵̛̳̖w̴̮̔̊ǒ̷͙u̴̞̩l̴̫͝d̷͈͖̈ ̷̨̍̒h̸̯́ạ̴v̸̛͇e̵̖͛̈́ ̴̧͔̈́͠s̵͙͐̌a̶͖͌v̴̠̗̒͂ê̶̩͊d̶̼͎̋ ̶̮̻̇ĥ̵̗ī̶̗͜m̴͔̤̽͋ ̴̡̠̂ǒ̴̱̱t̸̲͇̑̌h̵̜̿ẻ̷͚̤r̵̮̈ŵ̸̲͠i̶̯̍s̴̪̀̃e̶̞͉͗.”
He smirked, pulling the sword out of his leg with a horrible squelch, the hand on Quckity’s face patronizingly rubbing against his cheek in mock comfort. Quackity glared at him in retaliation, hatred stabbing through him as deep as Bad had hurt Quackity. He deserved it.
He angled the sword against Quackity’s throat. The hatred turning to fear in recognition of what Bad was doing. Because Bad knew what he was doing. He knew that he might've been giving Quackity the slowest death possible like this, that it would be more painful than Quckity could have ever deserved. Quackity would suffocate in his own blood.
"̶̱̤̟͕͂͗̋̕M̴̨̼̱͙̎̐́â̸͓̝͙ḳ̶̚ë̷̝̼̹́ ̴̡̗̝̎̈́͠m̷̗͙̦̐̑̊ȩ̷̰͇̓ ̵̩͉̗̖̰̌̇̏̾p̵̡͍̲̜͖̉̆̍͠r̴̠͗̿o̶̡̯̟̰͎͐̏͆̕ú̶̼̕͝͠d̴̡̤̥̤͇̚,̴̢͎̤̘̮̈́͐̈́͘͠ ̶͕̦̫̈́̾͘m̸̼̥̖̦̝̓̚͝͝͝y̸̨͍̬͗̔ ̷̧͔̪̻͖͘s̸̛̛͕͕͍͆̚e̴̳̗̟͕̘̔͗̇r̶̡̦͋̃̊v̶͎͇̳á̶̟͚̗ǹ̴͚̝̤̲̬͌̈́t̷̢̧̬̠͑̐.̵̢̛̲͚̩̅͠"̵̗̘̉͊̂
He tensed his arm, pushing it forward and-
“BADBOYHALO, PLEASE SNAP OUT OF IT.”
He lurched backward, head thudding against the cold surface beneath him as he sucked in air quickly. His head was pounding as he struggled to suck in oxygen, choking on it and the heavy tears that streamed down his face and into his mouth. Low whimpers squeaked out of him as his lungs refused to accept the air he tried to force into them. He couldn’t breathe.
“Please, Bad, you’ve gotta breathe. I need you to breathe with me.”
Quackity was dead, face pale from bloodless and empty eyes forever staring out across the water with a look of shock and hurt forever frown on them. He had betrayed him, refusing to listen. He had dragged him out away from everyone else, and sent his sword through his leg and then giving him a slow and painful death.
He could have stopped it, he could have stopped it.
“Quackity’s dead,” He chocked out, shuddering breaths frenzied. “I’m a monster, I killed him. I liked it, I wanted to do it.”
“Bad, no you’re not! Come on, I need you to fucking work with me here.”
He still couldn't breathe, letting out a sob as his vision began to fitz out like an old box tv. A hollow ringing filled his ears, pounding headache settling into a loud thundering. He forced his hand into his mouth, biting down on the skin between his thumb and first finger with his canines. A hand covered his, but he was quick to flinch back as much as he was able, jaw tightening reflexively.
He was an animal.
“Bad, I need you to focus on me,” Quackity’s voice stated calmly.
He blinked hazily, jaw twitching as he tried to blink the tears from obstructing his vision to no prevail. A hand pressed against his shoulder lightly, he flinched but the hand remained there. Then he noticed a small tapping coming from it. It was rhythmic, and the touch was small enough to not overwhelm him.
“I’m here, I’m alright. But I need you to do something for me alright?”
Bad took in a shuddering breath around his hand, nearly gagging as coppery spit went down his airway.
"Hey, it's alright," He spoke calmly, not making a move to grab his hand. "Just tap my hand once for yes, twice for no."
He could do that. After a moment, his free hand pressed against the hand on his shoulder, tapping back once.
His chest was rising and falling rapidly, though he stopped feeling any air in them- as if it had all been sucked out. But he listened. “Good. I need you to breathe in for eight taps, alright? Think you can do that for me, buddy?”
He tapped against his hand again, squeezing his eyes shut harshly. The taps from Quackity began, far too slow. He couldn’t hold it in anymore at seven, letting out the breath quickly before trying to restart and catch up.
“No, no, no. Shit- Calm down,” He soothed him. “It’s not a race. Let’s just restart. On my mark.”
Bad breathed in slowly to the count of the tapping, making it to eight before opening his eyes a crack. his vision was blurred, but he kept it open anyways.
“Good, now we’re gonna let it out slowly as well. For seven taps I want you to let the air out slowly, like you’re letting it out of a balloon near someone sleeping, alright? Don’t wake them up.”
He tapped again, letting the air hiss out of his nose while Quackity tapped. His headache quieted down a bit, Bad became aware of how his hand was trembling between his teeth.
“We’re gonna try that again, you’re doing so well.”
They continued like that, Quackity tapping out the counts and calmly reexplaining the instructions when Bad started to feel overwhelmed. Eventually, he opened his eyes all the way, finding Quackity sitting beside him. He wasn't bloodied up or pale as he had been before, he had on a sleep shirt and his beanie was pulled over his head crookedly. He smiled when Bad met his gaze, shaky but genuine.
“There you are, you muffinhead.”
He squeezed Quackity’s hand for a moment, happy when Quackity turned over his hand to squeeze back. ‘One last thing I need you to do alright? I can help you with this one though. Can I touch you?”
Bad tapped back once hastily, the contact against his hand feeling grounding. Quackity huffed a bit, reaching forward and gently grabbing Bad’s wrist.
“Alright, I need you to relax that jaw of yours. Just unclench, you’re alright.”
Bad did so, wincing as coppery blood was suddenly prevalent against his tongue. He could feel the sliminess of the blood on his teeth.
“See, that wasn’t too hard,” Quackity chuckled. He turned his hand over, a small frown briefly visible before Quckity met his eyes again. “Do you want to sit up?”
He tapped back once, keeping a firm grip on Quackity’s hand. He helped him sit up, holding his hand all the while. He settled next to him, and Bad found himself once again staring out over the Dream SMP. It was quiet, like how it had been before- as if he hadn't just broken down for no reason.
"Skeppy got me when you started screaming my name," Quackity explained. "Normally I'd be flattered."
His laugh was a bit forced, dangling over them for a moment. Something cold pressed against his hand, and when he checked he found a bit of gauze pressed in his hand. He could see indents in his hand, nothing major, though his fur would be a pain to brush out. Quackity didn't mention it, wiping out the drying blood with the gauze before tying a bandage around it.
He caught his eye briefly, calmly tying off the bandage. "So you don't get shit in it."
Bad nodded hesitantly, tail flicking behind him when Quackity sighed dejectedly. "Do you wanna talk about it or something?"
Actually, there was nothing Bad wanted to do less at the moment. But Quackity was patiently staring at him, mouth set as he waited for Bad's response.
The silence lasted for a moment before Quackity shifted, obviously out of his element. "You know it'll only get worse if you don't right? You can't bottle it up anymore. No one wants to force you to say anything, that's the last thing we wanna do. But this shit ain't healthy, and we're worried you'll-"
“I killed you,” Bad interrupted, voice hoarse and quiet. Quackity seemed a bit taken aback, eyes widening momentarily before he set his expression again.
“You didn’t.”
Bad doesn’t reply, knowing that Quackity was technically right. He hadn’t killed Quackity, but he could have. He had been too close to doing whatever the egg wanted, too close to doing something irreversible. Everyone knew it, even if they all seemed determined to pretend that it had never happened in the first place.
Bad couldn’t pretend.
“Bad, I don’t know what that yolky fucker showed you. But you are just as much a victim as Skeppy was. Just as much a victim as Antfrost,” Quackity pointed out. “Do you think it’s their fault, Bad?”
He wanted to say yes. Wanted to say yes so that he could continue to drown in his guilt. But he couldn’t do that to them, couldn’t pretend Ant or Skeppy had any real choice in the matter. “No,” He mumbled. “But it was my fault Skeppy got corrupted. And Ant at least managed to break himself free mostly.”
“Bullshit.”
Bad remained quiet, focusing his attention on where his tail is twisting itself around his own ankle.
“Bad, look at me,” Quackity finally sighed. Bad hesitantly complied, finding an incredulous grin on his face. “Bad, you fought off the egg’s control so that you couldn’t hurt Tommy. You removed yourself from the fighting, giving Ant the chance to realize what was happening. You were more of a hero than you realized.”
Bad felt words jumble in his throat, knowing Quackity was wrong, but not sure how to prove it. Luckily, Quackity didn't ask him to agree, he just smiled and stood up. "You don't have to believe it yet, just know I do. Anyways, SKeppy's probally having an anneurism worrying about your ass, so let's go check on him."
Bad grabbed his hand and smiled at Quackity as he pulled him to his feet. The air outside was freezing, and Bad could feel where it raised goosebumps under his fur. Still, he couldn't help but smile when they descended into the mansion and found Skeppy waiting for him.
"You okay?"
"He'll be fine," Quackity rolled his eyes. "Can I go back to sleep now?"
Skeppy groaned, making a big show of shovign Quackity out the door despite the laughter bubbling out of them. "Yeah, yeah. Get out."
Bad giggled, waving at Quackity through the window as Skeppy closed the door. They smiled dopily for a moment, before Skeppy tilted his head hesitantly. "You wanna stay up and watch a movie, or something?"
"No, I'm tired," Bad replied easily, the stress and exhuastion from the day beggining to resettle more managably on him. "Go to sleep now, Skeppy?"
"I mean, that's what I was doing before I rea;lised you wern't inside," Skeppy teased, cracking up at Bad's incredilous expression.
"Skeppy!!"
"You gonna wake me up again after-"
"Skeppy, not funny!!"
"Oh, do you want me to set an alarm?"
He huffed, crossing his arms and pointedly turning away as a grin threatened to take over his face. SKeppy jsut kept giggling, moving around to teasingly poke at his face. "Aww, you know I don't mean it."
"Still!" He crumbled, grin taking over as he shoves Skeppy away from him as he rolled his eyes. "I won't wake you up, don't worry."
“Don’t worry about it,” Skeppy replied easily as he pulled Bad into a quick hug. “But if you think for one second that I’m not gonna cuddle your ass to sleep you’re wrong.”
“Language!”
Skeppy just laughed, pulling Bad behind him.