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Quackity wasn't exactly over the Ram hybrid. Not yet.
Everything reminded him of the Ram in some way or another, from drinks to smells to even chairs. It was frustrating, but the knowledge that Schlatt would never truly be dead whilst the Duck hybrid remembered reassured him some.
Sure he had Las Nevadas, the family he'd made there, and even a pretty good job role among it all. But none of it made him happy enough, not like when he was with Schlatt. The pranks they'd pull, the nights spent just talking, the random head-butts of affection; he missed it. But Schlatt was gone, sent to some form of afterlife (Limbo, Wilbur had called it) due to his own decisions. When Wilbur had first returned Quackity had asked, hopeful for anything, but alas Wilbur had nothing of use. A few 'I might have seen him' and occasionally 'I definitely heard him' but never anything Quackity would take as fact. If it was Ghostbur then maybe, Ghostbur never lied, but Wilbur was always one to be cautious around. It didn't take long at all for Quackity to drop the subject, going back to silent hopes and whispered prayers into a blanket still soaked in whisky and tears. Wilbur never brought it back up explicitly, leaving his business opponent to question everything but absolutely no one. (Quackity swore the dead man purposely threw himself into chairs, just to rub salt into a very open wound.)
Fundy and Tubbo could still see their familial figure hurting, especially on what they called "family night" when they'd spend dinner together. To outsiders it was co-workers discussing how work was going, perhaps even old friends sharing stories of times long gone. To them? They were a shattered family still carefully taping and gluing and sewing themselves back together, even if the middle was torn and gone. They spoke praises and comforts, stories of loud nights throwing pillows instead of throwing potions, hugs and gentle head-butts when one was getting a little too choked up on their words. Everyone was very careful with what was brought up, preferring to laugh than to cry. Of course they had nights were no one frowned, no one sniffled, not even a moment of silence. They enjoyed these nights, they truly felt like the family nights from before. That's all they wanted in the end, the before to be now.
Quackity had been working on some paperwork for the casino, pen ink staining his lips as he chewed away with a large coffee to the side, when a small grunt echoed through the office room. It was very clearly from within the room, too clear to be Foolish outside or Fundy and Purpled in the hallway. No it was definitely nearby. With cautious glances around the room and a hand going to his waist to clasp around his sword, he spoke bold and clear.
"Slime? I thought I told you to stop creeping around dude." Not wanting to alert the others the duck kept his voice down, almost hushed, whilst standing from his chair. Despite the room being fairly small, and even considered empty by most, there was no one in sight. No dust from Foolish, no slime from...well Slime, no gunpowder or fur or purple thread or clacking of run away hooves. Nothing, everything was the same as when he had last looked up. Even as he circled the room to check, using his sword to push and prod and move things he needed to, there was nothing. The last thing to be checked was the sofa, despite having no room under or behind it for anyone (but Charlie he supposed) to hide. He had to be sure. His sword shined in the setting sun passing through the window as he lifted it away from his feet, sliding it behind and under the sofa. No cries or gasps were followed so he at least knew Charlie wasn't the culprit; this time. Out of pure frustration he swung his sword out in front of him, just barely missing the plush backing but creating a very satisfying noise as it broke through the air. Grumbles and mutters tumbled out of his mouth tirelessly, having no real direction as he sheathed his sword away again. Exhaustion was all he could think off, brushing off the thought of intruders and assassin's to finish his damned paperwork. If he died now at least he wouldn't have to keep staring at the same numbers over and over again.
Originally everyone had planned a bonfire that night, somewhere in the forest nearby so as to not damage the property, so they could catch up and simply be friends instead of co-workers that happened to be friends. Alas, the plans fell through, people too tired and people too busy on personal issues. Quackity didn't mind, he knew he should try to catch up on some sleep after his earlier slip-up in the office. He did have a chat with Sam about it but all he got was the same reassurances that everything would be fine, that he was just imagining things. The Duck would just have to except that answer and move on, why else would he hear things and yet no one be there? Thanks to being the creator of Las Nevadas he got to set up base camp right there on the land, choosing to live on the land he knew was his; no one could take it away from him if he owned it. This also meant it took mere minutes to get home, throwing his shoes and jacket to the side to become future Quackity's problem before practically throwing himself into the bathroom. The taste of ink was finally starting to invade his mouth and he wanted it out, to replace it with something better like one of Niki's pastries he had managed to get. It didn't take long, but it did take a lot of scrubbing, before his mouth was free of the disgusting blue that almost dared to stain his teeth. It took even less for him to get to the kitchen and nab his precious pastry, digging in whilst dancing around the cupboards to find his juice. One perk of living alone is he knew where everything was, and everything was him height! (Instead of being unnaturally high thanks to a certain Ram hybrid that definitely wasn't taller.) The downsides to living alone were many but manageable, besides he had no one to live with. Tubbo had his family to get back to, Fundy still wanted some semblance of independence (even if he was the most regular to stay over) and all his closest friends lived elsewhere entirely; not even a part of Las Nevadas. It was lonely yes, but it was cozy and his. Quackity knew he was trailing crumbs as he made his way to his room, but couldn't find it within himself to care as he /very/ carefully settled onto the bed. Once he'd throw himself, but not anymore. Despite his carefulness however the bed still seemed to jolt moments after, pillows bouncing very briefly. Now this was getting creepy. Without a second thought Quackity spun around on his feet, sword pointing directly at the now 'empty' bed.
"What in the fuck?" His voice barely managed above a whisper as he swung his sword around the area. Maybe someone was messing with him using an invisibility potion, but he couldn't see any particles and he hadn't heard anyone drinking. His frustration was clearly growing as he swung more recklessly. It wasn't until he nearly slashed a silk pillow in half that his sword was finally stopped by seemingly nothing, an exasperated sigh echoing around the room.
"Flatty Patty if you don't cut that out you're gonna break something, or someone. That someone is you, you're gonna dislocate your shoulder with that form." The lecture still came from nothing, Quackity just staring wide eyed at the sword that refused to move. The nickname and tone could only point to one person, but that person was gone.
"I'm right here Quackity, surprise?" The voice bounced off the walls as a ghostly figure finally exposed himself, smoke seeming to collect underneath him as ram eyes met the ducks. "Miss me?"
The sword was dropped wordlessly as Quackity jumped onto the bed, attempting to throw his arms around the ram but only meeting the blanket on the other side. With a grunt Schlatt stood up, stepping his way to crouch in front of a teary eyed man.
"Sorry my dear, I haven't quite grasped the whole physical body thing like Ghostbur yet, but I'm getting there." It was definitely him. It looked like him, sounded like him, acted like him. It had to be him.
"I missed you you asshole, so damn much." Quackity's throat closed up as tears fell, sitting back on his knees so Schlatt could collapse next to him; which he gladly did once again with the same grunt from earlier. With a sad smile Schlatt brushed ghostly fingers over the Duck's cheek, unable to wipe away tears like he used too but still sent cold shivers through the other.
"I see that now, I'm sorry it took so long for my return." The urge to hug him, to tell him everything would be okay, to reassure him that he wasn't leaving again, it was all overwhelming. But he stayed put, ready for whatever was thrown his way.
"Why now? I heard you earlier, and I'm sure you've been around awhile. Why show yourself now?" A muffled chuckle escaped him as he choked back sobs, the duck smiling at his dead husband. He noticed that despite his washed out appearance and smoky silhouette he still brandished his horns proudly. It was reassuring; to n=know he hadn't changed that much from the man he once knew. Or he at least hoped.
"To tell you the truth I didn't think you'd want to see me again, I don't know if you remember but we were on opposite sides last we talked." It sounded so matter of fact coming out of his mouth, almost emotionless, as he recounted the memory. It was true they hadn't been on amazing terms last they talked, or even saw each other. Did Schlatt even remember the van?: Or was he too out of it? "I only changed my mind after snooping. I...uh...saw the pictures on the wall. Ya know, the one of us and the kdis? And of course the wedding photos, I'm surprised you even found those after the war." The content sigh made Quackity feel warm, the duck very glad he had spent the time to search the rubble and find the photos he treasured so much.
"How long have you been back? Here, not conscious." Quackity hadn't meant to sound rude or demanding, but it just happened. He needed to know.
"Well I was in limbo for awhile, and then I was here so I started following you around. When you first appear you have no affect on the world around you ya know?" The ram tried not to ramble as he spoke, trying to put it into a timeline despite having next to no grasp on time now. "I think I started following you around at the start of this whole Los Vadas thing?" His nose scrunched up slightly as he tried to recall everything he remembered. Praise be however as it seemed Quackity wanted a turn now, taking the pressure off of the Ram's shoulders.
"It's Las Nevadas actually." The tears had finally paused, or maybe even stopped, as he finally wiped his face clean. "And you've really been around that long?" The nod was all he needed to let out a deep sigh, bordering on a groan. For months he had been grieving a man right next to him the entire time. Part of him wanted to be mad that Schlatt hadn't made himself known, to do or say anything. But the smarter part knew it was worthless thinking that way. He knew Schlatt couldn't the ram had just said he couldn't manipulate the world around them at the time. Overall he had many mixed emotions but he was overwhelmingly happy his friend and husband was back. Hopefully for good this time, unlike his dreams and nightmares. Silently the duck fell back onto the sheets, his sweet treat left forgotten on the drawers, with Schlatt collapsing beside him. The small bounce was nothing compared to when he was alive, but it was comforting to have some semblance of the trait back.
"Are you gonna talk to anyone else?" Quackity would of course help and support him if he wanted to, but the selfish part of him just wanted to keep Schlatt to himself for a bit. To make up for lost time and catch up. Of course Schlatt only shrugged, staring up at the roof as if they were watching the stars again.
"Maybe one day, but I don't think many would be happy to see me. Maybe I deserve it, but I don't wanna face the consequences yet." Quackity hadn't expected that answer but it was somewhat satisfying, creating some semblance of a future to expect. They both knew someone would demand punishment, but even Sam couldn't imprison a ghost. How would they punish him?
...That wasn't a thought for now, or ever.
"I'm glad you're back, Fundy and Tubbo missed you too." The words spilled out with ease. That always was the case with the truth, he felt no shame sharing it. Lies were always a little harder, manageable but more like tar in his throat. The truth seemed to make Schlatt laugh, a smile settling on his sleepy face.
"I missed them too, maybe I'll meet them again sooner. Have our little family back, heh?" The ram tried to gently elbow the Duck but only managed to send more cold shivers down the others spine. "I'm gonna need to work on that..." It was Quackity's turn to laugh that time, placing his hand open on the bed so Schlatt could put his hand in the others.
"We'll make it work."
It was weeks later when Fundy and Tubbo finally both were with Quackity at once, the two having come over for dinner. They were pleasantly surprised by Quackity's happier appearance the past few weeks, allowing themselves to perk up a bit more as well. It was nice to feel nice, and not sad or remorseful. Quackity had decided to put himself on cooking duty, delegating the kids to the living room with promises of the best surprise ever. (Tubbo had made sure to say the surprise would be Quackity learning to cook, which got many laughs and him a wooden spoon to the head.) Tubbo collapsed onto his favourite armchair as usual, setting out a content bleat as he settled into the comforting smell of the home. Fundy on the other hand settled himself onto one corner of the sofa, tail wrapping around himself as he hugged his knees to his chest. He had allowed himself to sit like this more often after seeing Tubbo and Schlatt embrace their weird hybrid quirks, besides it was the far superior way to sit in his opinion. Much comfier than collapsing and hoping to not break anything. To both of their surprise another grunt was heard as the other side of the sofa dipped, the two turning as quick as they could to see an oh so familiar face collapsing into the chair with the same grace any ram would have.
"Schlatt!" They both yelled together as they jumped to hug the ghostly man, not falling through him like Quackity had their first meeting. It hadn't taken long for Schlatt to figure out temporary physicality and he most certainly didn't want his kids to go tumbling over the edges of the sofa.
"Me!" The ram replied with a hearty laugh, wrapping his arms around the two as the huddled into him as close as they could. "I missed you two too." The two chatted excitedly over each other, asking and answering their own questions whilst Schlatt barely got a word in. It was all so normal and mundane and yet it was still the happiest they'd all been in awhile. The loud shouting had attracted Quackity over, the sight enough to send the duck it a fit of laughter as the two started interrogating him as well.
"He only appeared recently, calm yourselves!" Quackity allowed himself to collapse onto the sofa beside them, a leg tucked under him. This only made them louder though, demanding to know why they weren't told sooner.
"I wanted to surprise you both at the same time, otherwise you'd fight over who gotta see me first." The two gave him an unimpressed look as he watched them, the man simply snickering at them. "You both know it's true, don't give me that look." The two instead looking at each other before attacking the ram again, giving him affectionate head-butts with as much power as they would have before. Unlike most people Schlatt could handle it, used to it after being headbutted by other full grown ram hybrids for various reasons. Quackity on the other hand preferred them gentle, his avian bones and structure making him more fragile and easier to bruise or break. The headbutts continued as Quackity left to finish dinner, ignoring the rams fake cries of mercy which were swiftly followed by more laughter. The family was finally reunited, even if it was still a little broken and smoky. They could finally stitch themselves together without falling apart midway.