Chapter Text
An skeleton horse by the unfortunate name of Boner sprinted across the wind stroked grass plains-an warm welcome in contrast to the blistering sun the past few days. The sudden gust blew the dark hair into the face of Quackity, who lightly spluttered in response.
Pushing his hair back into his beanie, he slowed Boner to an halt as an familiar village grew into view. Instinctively, Quackity glanced down into his inventory once more. He had managed to get some netherite armor and was hoping that one of his villagers could provide some enchantments.
After entering the village and tying up Boner to his respective stable, he headed straight for home. As he stepped onto the stairs of his house-an standard oak slabbed villager house that he had pillaged shortly upon arrival (it wasn’t the best, but better than living in the crater of L’manberg)-Quackity exhaled wistfully.
His mere two day adventure seemed far too short for him. If he was by myself, Quackity would be able to come and go as he pleased.
But in this case, he wasn’t alone.
Quackity opened the door with an creak, entering the relatively bare, dust filtered sunshine house. Dropping his pack down with a thud, he called out, “Hey, Tommy! I’m back!”
An exclamation of recognition sounded from the second floor of the house, followed by an deafening clatter and the sound of thundering footsteps coming down the stairs. In the next moment, Quackity found himself stumbling back into the door from the aggressive hug the aforementioned Tommy had attacked him with.
“Big Q, you’re back!” Tommy exclaimed as soon as Quackity caught his breath, his large blue eyes sparking with excitement.
Quackity laughed dizzily, patting Tommy’s hair pulled back into an tiny ponytail. “Jesus, dude, I almost saw stars there, are you trying to kill me?”
Tommy flashed an impish grin, “Mmm, me gusta murder.” Quackity laughed at that, and Tommy echoed it, his giddiness at having Quackity back incredibly apparent.
“Here, let me put my stuff away.” Quackity said as the laughter died down. “I got some valuable shit that I don’t wanna lose if I somehow die to you.”
Quick to compliance (which was a rare form) Tommy sidestepped to let Quackity walk up to their second floor bedroom where their chests were located. As Quackity transferred the items from his inventory to the chest, Tommy perched next to him on another chest.
“So how was your trip, Big man?”
Quackity chuckled. “It wasn’t much of a trip, Tommy, it was only two days.”
“Well, yea, because you didn’t bring me with you! It would’ve been an vacation, then, Big Q, I’m sure of it.”
“Tommy, the only reason I went on that trip alone was because I had to get you armor.” Quackity responded, shooting the boy an deadpan glance. Tommy’s armor had broke after nonstop mob hunting (Despite Quackity strongly suggsting against it) which resulted in an armorless Tommy. Predictably, Quackity had to go out himself and get some new armor for the kid.
“Also, the nether was a fucking pain the ass. The ghasts just wanted my ass so badly.” Quackity let out an coy chuckle “I mean, not that I blame them but-”
“Big Q, please, could you please refrain from talking about your ass for five minutes?” Quackity only laughed harder in response, the two winded nearly breathless as they resorted to sitting on the floor.
As the remnants of their laughter died down, Quackity pressed his hands against the hardwood oak flooring as an thought flickered through his mind ‘ Man, I would’ve never fucking imagined myself here.’
Shortly after the destruction of L’manberg and the imprisonment of Dream, Quackity, essentially without an home, decided to go and journey the rest of the SMP. The prospect of starting an new government was enticing, but Quackity couldn’t help but feel that perhaps he needed to find another purpose-another reason that he could find.
Because, he didn’t want to admit it, but he had an sort of emptiness gnawed within him. He hoped that maybe some momentum-some change would help him fill that hole.
Maybe Tommy did too, which would give reason enough to when the day Quackity was leaving, Tommy tugged on his shirt and asked if he could join Quackity in his travels.
At first, Quackity was inclined to reject his request. This journey was more of an solo mind-cleansing escapade more than anything else-and the last time he had an one on one companion in anything it ended up in divorce and verbal abuse.
But then Quackity remembered that there was an target on Tommy’s back, planted by Niki and Jack at the moment, and also possibly from Dream, and he virtually had nowhere else to go, and goddammit he always had a soft spot for that kid.
Thus resulted in the unlikely pair journeying through the SMP. They had settled themselves down in an village, although they used it more as a spawn point than a home more than anything else.
It was around an month into their journeying, and yet Quackity still found these moments surreal.
“Big Q, are you done putting your shit away?” Tommy’s voice poked into Quackity’s headspace. “We should go eat, I’m fuckin’ starving.”
Quackity’s nodded, shutting the lid of the chest. He rose to his feet, dusting off his pants. “Sounds good-but did you not eat while I was gone?”
“Oh-uh-no, no, I did.” Tommy responded, his evasiveness that Quackity now learned to notice catching his eye. Hurriedly, he tugged at Quackity’s hand. “C’mon, I’m pretty sure one of the villagers are trading pumpkin pie today.”
Quackity’s stomach reacted compliantly to Tommy’s words, and he pocketed the newly grown concern for later as he followed the teen down the steps.
The two were sat side by side on the steps of their house, eating the food they had successfully obtained from the villagers. The sun was setting now, the dark orange rays casting across the village lowering the temperature.
They sat in an hungry silence, both having had empty stomachs before this meal. As per usual, they had traded with the villagers for their food. Because they had more riches than brawn, trading with villagers for food was more effective than trying to hunt for it.
However, because villages were mainly used for checkpoints, they tended to sell food that would be easily carried and consumed. Quackity was glad that today the villagers were trading more filling foods-he was so fucking tired of carrots and potatoes.
Once the edge was taken off their hunger, Tommy spoke up again.
“So, was your two day trip lonely without me, Big Q?” Tommy asked with an mouthful of bread, the words accompanied with an spray of crumbs.
Quackity brushed away the crumbs on his face, accustomed to Tommy’s habit of talking while eating. “Well, it was definitely quiet.”
Tommy squinted at Quackity, “Somehow I feel like that’s an insult.” Quackity chuckled, and Tommy seemed to let it slide. “I still don’t get why you couldn’t have brought me along” He added, dramatically mournful.
“Tommy, I wasn’t about to fucking lead you to your deathbed with your no armor ass.”
Tommy made an indignant noise, “Oh, but Big Q, I’m big and strong, and if mobs saw me, they would just say ‘oh, good day, good day to you sir.’ very respectfully because I am just that cool.”
Quackity laughed at that-he always found Tommy’s animated dialogue amusing. As he bit off the end of an carrot, he glanced at Tommy through the corner of his eye. The bags under his eyes had grown darker.
“Hey, so I noticed you haven’t talked much about yourself since I got here. Did you do not do anything?” Everytime Quackity would come home, Tommy would routinely recount the events of what he saw or did, no matter how monotone it was.
He was slowly starting to have less to talk about when Quackity would get back, though.
Tommy blinked, seeming to have gotten caught off guard. He rubbed the back of his neck, “Well, there’s not much to really do here-”
Quackity frowned. “But you didn’t so anything? Like, at all? Why?”
Tommy seemed to be actively avoiding Quackity’s gaze. He shrugged lightly, looking uncomfortable, “I don’t know, man. It just...it just kinda sucks when I’m alone.”
Quackity’s frown deepened in concern. He knew being alone wasn’t Tommy’s strong suit, but he didn’t know if it went to the extent of being unable to do anything. He always pictured Tommy as an independent teen.
Granted, he did know how Tommy acted during their journeys. When Quackity had to separate with him briefly for mining or such, Tommy hated it with a deathly passion, and some anxiety would be prone to rise. When he saw that, he chalked it up as just some sort of hidden personality trait he wasn’t aware of.
It seemed to have gotten worse, though. Going from some mild separation anxiety to now being unable to sleep, eat, or do much of anything was an significant change. When had he gotten this bad?
Tommy’s face fell as he noticed Quackity’s silence. “But Big Q, really, it’s not a big deal. You don’t have to worry about it.”
Quackity simply reached out an hand and ruffled Tommy’s hair, turning his face away from him. He didn't want Tommy to see his expression.
Tommy had insisted on staying up and talking with Quackity that night, but inevitably, he had fallen asleep almost as soon as his head had hit the pillow. Two days of next to nothing sleep did that to a person.
Quackity would have been in the same boat as Tommy, sleeping soundly right next to him, but his concern kept him awake.
What Tommy had going on right now wasn’t good for him. He wasn’t aware his detachment issues were so severe, but better learn it now that never.
Now that he thought about it, Quackity remembered when Tommy made some flyaway comment about how being alone in this journey reminded him of exile sometimes. Quackity didn’t know all the details of how exile went for him, but he could place his bets that it was one of the darkest times for Tommy.
And if that were the case, Tommy was then currently being subjected to reliving through that exile. But Quackity didn’t know what to do. As much as he wanted to, Quackity couldn’t stay by Tommy’s side 24/7. There were places that he could go but Tommy couldn’t, places that Tommy could go and he couldn’t-journeying like this made it almost impossible to stick together.
Tommy needed people. Tommy needed a home. Not an travelling companion taht left every other day, not an shabby village that was barely even used.
‘ What if you found a home for Tommy to stay in?’ The thought entered Quackity’s mind. It wasn’t an unfamiliar thought. He had flirted with the idea before when Tommy showed wan signs of separation anxiety. Gathering some friends, settling down, white picket fences, all that shit.
But he had dismissed that thought every time it came. Because that wasn’t Quackity. He always needed to be doing something. He was momentous guy, always on the run, always finding some sort of project or purpose. Without it, Quackity would probably lose his mind. He couldn’t stay in one place for long.
And he had assumed Tommy was the same. But now it was more apparent than ever that Tommy was not the same as Quackity. He was kid, after all, and went through more wars than Quackity could imagine.
He did deserve an home, especially after the places he did call home were destroyed time after time.
Quackity had made up his mind ( He didn’t note on how short of a time it took him to persuade himself) Careful not to disturb Tommy, he slipped out of the bed they shared and headed out of the house. He was going to make a call.
Pulling out his communicator, he lifted his phone to his ear. Glancing up at the full moon, he shifted his feet nervously as the other line clicked in response.
“Hey, is this Phil?”