Chapter Text
Las Nevadas was a cruel and harsh place. Long legs would tower over him as he tried to maneuver the streets at night. Blinding billboard lights would shield his vision, knocking his head into ragged shoes. Some people would be careless and kick the duck aside- not too harshly, but enough to make the duck wince and curl on himself. Those kinds of people were mainly the ones who came out of a club, smelling like sex and alcohol. And, if they were lucky enough, a busty woman around their arm as they stumbled and laughed obnoxiously together. Some were nice, cooing at the duck as they picked him up, making funny faces like he was a baby. They didn't stay long though, they'd usually place him in an alleyway before walking off.
The duck could be found rummaging through trash scraps, picking at pizza crusts not wanting to be ate or cans with a little bit of soup left inside. The taste wasn't pleasant at all, considering the duck wasn't an animal- mentally- but it got him through the day as his small body sucked up the energy. It was a process like this everyday. He'd wander the streets looking for scraps of food, getting stares from people as if he were an alien. It was understandable though. What was a poor little duck doing in a loud and crowded city where polluted air basked in? Yet, no one cared enough to drive him back to a pond.
If he was lucky enough, someone would take him in. They didn't care though, they never did. They just viewed him as a novelty pet. "Look! Do you like my new pet duck? I got him off the streets. He was really dirty when I found him, the poor thing," they'd say, something along the lines of that.
They'd give him stupid names like Levy, Feathers, Kiwi, or even James. Many more along the list, but those were the stupidest names he could think of as of now. Some would give him a nice name though, like Ace. They'd fawn over him, feeding him duck pellets they bought from a pet store. That was until midnight struck.
He's only been caught once in his human form. The couple who had named him Feathers. Quackity overheard them saying something about coming home at 3, so he thought he'd take the time to wander around the apartment and eat proper food. He'd never forget the look on their faces when they came home near 1, spotting a naked grown man with duck wings rummaging through their fridge. They beat him with a broom and even pulled a gun on him, questioning who he was, where he'd come from, and if he was trying to rob them. (Note that he did not manage to get clothes on at this time as the man pinned him to the wall, a gun to his head.)
Quackity spilled his secret to try and get the man off of him. It worked, as he reeled back, but he screamed at him to get out or else they'd call the police. Quackity raised his hands in surrender, but before he could walk out the door, his girlfriend screeched at him to get clothes on first. The man went into his bedroom to give the hybrid a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans.
"How will I carry these with me when I turn back into a duck?" Quackity questioned as he put on the clothes. They were a perfect fit and smelled like vanilla. The man shrugged. "Not my problem. But I do wish you the best of luck out there."
He lost the clothes as soon as the sun rose and morphed back into a duck. He couldn't stay in the alleyway until midnight to put on his clothes. He had to go travel for food. He had to go travel for a chance of shelter. A chance to find someone who could like him as he was, not because he was a cute animal to show off.
Memories of his family filled his mind as he walked the streets. They lived in a cozy home, his father Sam making outstanding inventions for Quackity and his brother George to play with. Sam was a creeper hybrid. He wore a gas mask which gave him an intimidating appearance, but once you got to know him, he was a truly caring man. Both him and George were adopted by Sam. His brother George was a regular human, but he held so much sass in him despite looking soft and sunkissed on the outside.
They lived in a fairly safe neighborhood. A townhouse complex wouldn't have too much crime being caused in it, right? It wouldn't have hurt to be extra careful though, but being young and stupid, he couldn't. Everyday, Quackity had the paranoia that someone was watching him. Many times, he'd involuntarily whip his head to look at a window, peering to see if anyone was there. After being confronted by Sam and George, he convinced himself it was his mind making up scenarios. "You're watching too many TV shows," Sam would say, shaking his head.
That was until one day, him and George were playing outside at night before George told him he was going to get some water. Quackity nodded and sat on the grass as he waited for George to come back. What he didn't notice was a van pulling up and two men in long white coats approaching him. Quackity's wings twitched at the vibration of footsteps hitting the ground, but it was too late as they held him in a tight grip and quickly put him to sleep. George screamed as he saw his little brother being taken away, Sam rushing out the door to try and stop them, but they had already rushed off.
When his eyes finally managed to open free, he was in a blank white room, only filled with a cieling lamp, a fan, a bed, and a table matched with a chair. The same men came into the room, Quackity backing into the corner in fear as they picked him up. He squacked and screamed in trills of pain as they grabbed him by his wings. "Stop, stop! It hurts- it hurts so much," he'd cry out.
They'd secure him on what seemed to look like a hospital bed with buckles. They'd tie his hands and legs together and pinned him down, injecting him with unknown fluids. As soon as they were done, they'd send him back to his room, the tired hybrid limping into his bed as he collapsed into the soft sheets. This would repeat everyday until he was 16. The scientists had been found out. It turned out they ran a criminal business, testing fluids on hybrids they managed to kidnap or found homeless on the streets. The police swarmed into the building, the alarms going off. Quackity's ears rang as he suddenly sat up in his bed. He pounded on the door, begging to be let out before someone had opened the door. Unfortunately for him, it was one of the scientists. He shoved a towel to his nose, being put to sleep once more.
He woke up in the back of a van, bouncing up as the wheels ran over rocky roads and dry grass. As he crawled toward the back of the van to try and unlock the door, the van came to a sudden stop. The door opened, as the scientist carried the hybrid out and placed him by a tree. He glared at him as he slammed the doors closed and pointed at him.
"Don't tell the police I was here. I'm only dropping you off so I don't seem suspicious if I get pulled over or some shit like that. Have fun being homeless," the man scoffed. The wheels screeched and the van zoomed off, getting smaller into the distance. Quackity watched as the sun came up, his body morphing into a duck. He sighed as he got up and waddled around before he found the city of Las Nevadas. And that's where he was now, collapsing in front of a woman in the park who was feeding birds. The woman softly smiled at him, picking the duck up and carrying him around. She wandered into a nearby alleyway, but instead of placing him there like all the others did, she rummaged through the trash before pulling out a cardboard box. She unfolded the box, placing him inside. She picked up the box and halted in front of a store, a huge sign that said "SBI Pet Shop". As she placed the box down by the door, Quackity opened his eyes to meet the woman's face.
She was beautiful, pink hair touching her shoulders and a soft face that emitted pure intentions. "Go back to sleep, duckie. My friends will be able to help you. Don't you worry your pretty head," she whispered, petting his wings. Quackity let out a pleased trill as he settled down, his eyes closing once more.