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“Sam?”
Fundy walked into the room, all hesitant twitches and fearful smiles. He’d returned from the prison less than an hour ago. Already, the day was weighing down on him. What if something was going wrong at the prison? He needed to be there— what if another security issue happened, and he didn’t know about it?
Fundy held his jacket close to his chest. “I can’t sleep, and… you’re always up. Can we do something?”
And looking at the fox hybrid,— who’d joined his and Quackity’s fucked up replica of a family— how could he say no? “Of course… do you want something to eat?”
It was always easier to cook for two or three— or six. It’d been easier, back when it was just him and Quackity. Back then, when Quackity was just a child, and they were unbothered by the larger SMP. He’d memorized how to make a perfect two-person meal.
Then, Quackity began to invite friends over, and he adapted. And he’d laughed and bonded with his son’s friends.
And then he left.
And then he came back with a scar across his face and a vendetta in his heart.
Sam was different now, too. Now, he was the warden of Pandora’s Vault. He couldn’t sacrifice that, even for his son. There were lines in the sand, but Quackity had learned how to bend those. There were precautions to make against those who had power, but Quackity was his son, and he was the warden—
No one could hurt the warden. Not Technoblade, not Dream, not his son.
“Hm.” Fundy’s ears twitched as he began to walk toward the pantry. Sam’s lips shifted into what he hoped was a smile. “I don’t know… do we have any meat? Any pasta?”
“I think there’s enough meat to feed all of us and maybe some others.” Sam stood behind him, scanning the pantry. He sighed. Purpled had forgotten to get new food again.
It looked full, but the chips were half-eaten and the soups unappetizing at best. There… there wasn’t even any bread?!
Sam sighed, the exhaustion from the day weighing down on him. He wanted a nap. Maybe tomorrow, he would have the time to rest in Pandora’s Vault.
(It was the only place he felt safe enough to sleep.)
In spite of the exhaustion pulling at his shoulders, he smiled and began to plan a dinner for his family. Despite the extra time it would cost, the idea of a larger portion called to him. It would be worth the extra hours of labor for the smiles on their faces. Maybe, if they happened to cook too much, they could even deliver some to Tommy and Wilbur.
Fundy smiled up at him, his tail beginning to wag behind him. “Do you think we could cook for everyone, then?”
Sam chuckled as he went through the logistics of cooking for eight people in the dead of night. It would be easy enough. “Yeah, definitely! There are some grills outside. Do you think you could go set them all up?”
Within seconds, Fundy had left the room, a cheerful laugh spilling from his lips. Sam smiled as he began to prepare the meat.
It was nice to have people to cook for.
Sam was careful as he approached Purpled’s room. The kid was jumpy on his good days and murderous during his worst.
He could still remember the first time someone had invaded his room— how Charlie opened the door in a rush only to have a sword go through his abdomen. He’d gasped and pretended to die (“I’m bleeding out… like a person!”) until Purpled had kicked them all out.
Nowadays, he had the sense to knock. Thankfully, for once, the teenager was asleep.
“Purpled?” Sam murmured. “I know it’s late, but me and Fundy made some food! Come down if you’re hungry.”
As he walked away, Sam could hear Purpled’s annoyed complaints. He smiled, knowing he’d see the bedraggled teen by the table within minutes.
Next up was Foolish.
Sam
Foolish?
Me and Fundy cooked some food
Would love it if you dropped by and had some
Foolish
Of course! I’d love to have some food! I’ve been staying up all night working on a build anyway. It’d be nice to see everyone again!
Sam smiled. It had been so long since they’d all gotten together. Whether it was because Foolish lived far away or because of Sam being the warden,— or because Purpled was doing mercenary work— no one had time for each other anymore.
But, that would end tonight.
Tonight, they could reconnect. Tonight, they had the chance to be happy, even if it was only for a few hours.
Maybe afterward, he and Fundy could deliver some food to Wilbur and Tommy. Obviously, Tommy wouldn’t appreciate seeing him, but…
(“The next time I see you near this prison you are dead, Tommy.”)
It would be fine.
Fundy would get to reconnect with his father! And everything! Would! Be! Fine!
Sam sighed, leaning his forehead against the cool marble walls of Las Nevadas. Everything was going to be fine. All that was left was Quackity.
“Quackity?” His hand banged against the door. His jaw clenched as the series of booming noises reverberated through the door and through him. Quackity had always been hard to wake up, but ever since Doomsday and— every other fight, really— his hearing had steadily declined.
If he was younger, Sam would have woken him by gently talking him into consciousness. But, now, he was an adult; an adult who would swing cruel barbs at him if he tried that.
And today was going to be a good day,— today had to be a good day— so he wouldn’t.
“Quackity?” A groan. “Fundy made some food for everyone, he’d love it if you came down and ate it!”
The door clicked open.
“Fine,” Quackity growled, his hair a mess without the beanie. His scar stood out on his face, even despite the darkness of the room. “I’ll be there in five.”
Sam nodded and walked downstairs. Fundy and Charlie had set the table already, with Charlie running around laughing as Fundy did all the work. Sam smiled as a sense of peace washed over him.
Fundy and Charlie smiled and brought him into their conversation. Something about gambling machines, apparently. He smiled and laughed and pretended he had any clue as to what they were talking about.
Purpled walked down the stairs. His hair a mess… and he was still in his pajamas, but at least he was awake. Over the next few minutes, the other two showed up.
Quackity, in a white button-up shirt and a fake smile on his lips. It didn’t reach his eyes, but Fundy took the compliments anyway. He was kind of an idiot like that.
But, it was okay, because Quackity wouldn’t use that against him. It was okay… because they were a family, and family didn’t hurt each other.
Even as he watched Quackity wonder aloud you know you didn’t have to wake all of us up, didn’t you?
Even as he watched Fundy’s ears flatten to his skull. Everyone else looked just as uncomfortable as he felt. Maybe he would have spoken up if he had more time, but…
“Sam! Am I late?”
Everyone was home.
“No, no! We’re just getting started.” Sam smiled, wincing when it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He could almost smell the gunpowder already.
It was easy to fake the smile— fake the happiness— as he passed out slabs of meat to everyone. Purpled murmured thank you as he passed, while Charlie screamed his thanks so everyone could hear. Foolish looked at him with worry. The god could always see through his masks.
“It’ll be okay,” Sam murmured as he passed. Foolish didn’t seem convinced.
Quackity didn’t smile, nor thank him, as he gave him his food. He didn’t expect it anymore. It was nice enough to be around his family— to see them. Maybe, he was asking for too much, anyway.
Sam sat down at his seat, his lips curling into a tiny, hopeful smile. His son stared back at him, tired and annoyed.
He opened his mouth to say something, maybe a toast, maybe to thank them all for waking up for this.
After a moment of pain and confusion, Sam opened his eyes to the prison’s walls. There was no food. There was no family. Only these suffocating walls.
“Hello?” Technoblade’s voice echoed through the room. “Is there anyone here? I’d like to visit the prison!”
Sam sighed as he grabbed his trident. Maybe, they could have that nice family dinner without him. Maybe later, Fundy would tell him about how nice it was (without him).
“Techno..? You can enter the portal.”
Las Nevadas could wait— he had a job to do. After all, it would only take a few minutes to explain to Techno that the prison wasn’t taking visitors... then, maybe, he could go back home.
(When he came home, hours later, the food was cold and uneaten. No one was home, except for him.)