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Karl’s in The Inbetween again. The hoodie-clad man is wandering from room to room, at the advice of the same unknown entity that has been gently guiding him, ever since he had begun time travelling. He’s never gone this far into The Inbetween before. He truly can’t imagine that anybody has ever pictured something this beautiful.
He stops to rest, for a time, when he stumbles across an indoor pond. It’s surrounded by a material that almost looks like marble. Upon closer examination, however, it’s made out of a material that Karl has never seen before. He runs a hand across the impossibly smooth surface. It’s pleasantly cool, but not cold. Never cold.
Nothing is cold here. Nor is anything hot. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the man knows that the only way he can feel any temperature at all, is because of his mortal composition. The Inbetween is designed as a place of safety. Any mortal would be quite unsettled at a total absence of feeling. Therefore, The Inbetween provides this silly, little comfort.
As the man sits on the edge of the pond, he shuts his eyes. It’s peaceful here. He wants to stay. Perhaps, even, forever. He shakes his head, frowning to himself. No. He has to return home, eventually. He has to. But... why?
He doesn’t have any parents to return to. He’s sure of that. No siblings. No cousins. No relatives at all. Friends? He might have those. A duty to a country, perhaps? Maybe. What can he possibly love so much that it makes up for the, near constant, pain that he remembers?
Two faces float behind his closed eyelids, but he can’t quite make them out. No matter. He doesn’t want to feel guilty for leaving anybody. He’s not sure he can truly feel any emotions here, if he doesn’t let himself. He’s glad of that. He enjoys the peace of mind that this wondrous place brings him. He hasn’t felt this calm, in years.
It would be perfect if you could share it with them, a voice, that sounds suspiciously like his own, whispers.
But, who? Who does he want to share this wonderful place with? The entity who has been guiding him has told him, many times, to never tell anybody about this castle. He gets to his feet abruptly and continues on through the massive corridors. He eventually comes to a massive, open doorway that leads to a green, luscious garden.
At the center of this garden, a huge tree (even larger than the one in the courtyard) has sunk its roots into the earth. Karl walks up to it, placing a hand on the massive trunk. A jolt of energy shoots through him and he shudders, with the intensity of it. Looking up, he sees impossibly-green leaves and silver crystals hanging from the branches, in harmony.
One of these branches droops low enough for Karl to look into one of the crystals. He sees himself, slightly distorted, in its surface. He almost looks translucent, but that isn’t what makes him jump. Two other men are standing on either side of him, in the reflection. He looks over his shoulder and isn’t too surprised to see nobody there.
Turning back to the crystal, he examines the faces of the men closer. A memory is prickling, in the back of his mind. A beanie that he knows, instinctively, that the shorter of the two men never takes off. A white bandana, always kept in a partially good condition, is tied in the other man’s hair.
Names float in and out of Karl’s mind. Cletus, Mason, Drew, James, Jack, Sapnap, Quackity. That’s it! Quackity and Sapnap were their names and they were... important to Karl? But... why? Why were they important? The Sapnap in the crystal leans forward and brushes Karl’s hair out of his eyes, with a fond smile, before pressing a soft kiss to the older man’s temple.
The phantom touches linger, giving Karl an inexplicable feeling of safety and warmth. The memory is getting closer. The image of Quackity links his arm, with Karl’s. He wears a soft expression; full of both teasing merriment and gentle love. The Crystal Sapnap’s gaze lingers on them both. His mouth is tilted up, in a loving smile.
And then Karl remembers, with an intensity that’s staggering. He reels back from the crystal and, when he looks back inside, his fiancés are gone. And fiancés they are. That’s why they mean so much to Karl. That’s why he wants to share everything with them. Even this mystical, other-worldly place.
Oddly enough, the remembrance of such an important responsibility doesn’t upset Karl like he had anticipated. In fact, it makes him feel even more calm and at ease. He walks away from the tree. He doesn’t need it anymore and, though it, no doubt, wouldn’t mind sheltering him for a little while longer, Karl feels the need to move away from it.
Karl wanders down the grassy slopes, picking flowers as he goes. He picks three. One, a bright orange, the color that Karl imagines the sun itself to be, another is a deep blue, the same color as the deepest depths of the ocean, and the last is of a dark purple hue, to rival that of, even, the cosmos themselves.
It reminds him of happier days. Of days when he didn’t have to keep secrets from the people he loves best. Of days when he and Sapnap didn’t have to, occasionally, coax Quackity out of manic fits of power lust and blind rage. Of days when Sapnap didn’t come home at night, without having to tell them where he had been, tears, of both anger and grief, rolling down his face.
He misses those days. Well, that’s why he’s doing this, isn’t he? To fix the history of this terrible world, one tale at a time. To hell with his own, newfound chronic pain and weariness. As long as he can make world he lives on a happier one, than he’s willing to give up anything.
He comes to a stop at the very edge of the garden; a sheer drop into the sky. He stares out at the beautiful pink, gold, and baby blue hues of the sky that’s right in front of him. A cloud floats by his face and he sticks his hand in it. The hand comes out, with shining droplets of water covering it. Karl laughs aloud, in sheer wonder and awe. He’s touching the clouds.
What he wouldn’t give to share this experience with his beloved boys. He can imagine Quackity’s delighted laughter and Sapnap’s exclamations of excitement, clear as day. He’s there, staring into the clouds, and then suddenly he’s gone, in a golden shower of sparks.
”I got you guys flowers!” Karl informs his fiancés happily, almost the moment he walks through the door. He produces three, impossibly gorgeous flowers. The petals are all perfectly formed, they smell heavenly, and the color. The color. It’s like nothing Quackity’s ever seen before.
”Where did you get these?” Quackity demands, laughing.
”It’s... it’s a secret garden of mine,” Karl responds evasively.
”You’ll have to tell us about it,” Sapnap says, pulling the older boy into a quick kiss, being careful not to crush the flowers.
Karl doesn’t respond at first, instead bustling around the kitchen, getting a vase to place the flowers in. “You will take us there, sometime, right, cariño?” Quackity asks, pulling Karl in for a kiss of his own.
“Yes,” Karl breathes decidedly, “Yes, I will.” Pulling back, he looks at them both, with a very serious look in his eyes, “I’ll show you both everything, soon. I promise.” Quackity gets the feeling that he’s talking about more than just a garden. Maybe, he’s finally going to tell them the cause of his forgetfulness and the, too obvious, pain that he’s in too often, nowadays.
Whatever he might be speaking of, Quackity decides, it doesn’t matter right now. What matters, is Sapnap dragging them both into a pile on the couch. What matters, is their light-hearted bickering over what movie they want to watch. What matters, is the way that Karl cuddles close to both of them. What matters, is the tenderly loving way that the three look at each other, as they fall asleep one, by one. What matters, is that they’re all together and they’re all safe.
As Quackity is teetering on the edge of sleep, he feels someone press a soft kiss to his forehead. “Love you,” the duck hybrid mumbles, wings fluttering happily.
”Love you too,” Karl’s voice filters into Quackity’s half-asleep ears. The man hums happily and allows sleep to claim him, with those comforting words ringing in his head.
The last thing either he, or Sapnap hear, before falling asleep, is a simple, “Sleep well, my timeless loves.” It doesn’t make much sense, but, to be fair, neither does Karl. The oddness of the words, much like the odd quirks of the man himself, do nothing, but make them love their boy all the more.
Timeless, Quackity thinks, mulling the words over, as he falls into a dream. He dreams of golden trees, glowing ponds, and silver crystals. He sees all of these things, with his fiancés at his side. Timeless. A timeless place, for a timeless love. Timeless. What a lovely thing to be, indeed.