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Quackity hated the bitter taste of alcohol. He always had. It made him recoil in disgust, even at the sight of it. But now, not anymore.
Right now, it was his only friend. The only thing that kept him going in the morning and through the long, arduous days of living life in Las Nevadas.
His home, how much he loved it. It was his first real home, even if it was meant to be so much more. He had his family now, the family he made himself. He didn’t have to force himself into anyone’s life, not anymore. He could be himself.
Although, right now as he stared at the glass cup of whisky, he didn’t feel like himself. He felt like someone else, someone who was just living through the endless stream of existence. There was a time when he did feel like someone. When he had someone to make him feel like someone.
Throughout everything, even when he had nothing, he had you.
You were a doctor, retired from wars in far away lands. He had met you when he had gotten himself trapped in a mine with no resources or weapons. You found him, pulling him out of the mine and taking him back to your camp.
He was seriously injured; his ankle sprained and swollen, he had a few deep scratches on his face, and his head was throbbing from the way it hit the ground from the creeper who was responsible for trapping him in the mine.
He was half way to heaven, about to give up until you gripped him tight and kept him from falling into the quiet of death. You were calm and collected, patient with his whining and moaning every time you went to check his wounds. You liked to speak in metaphors when it pleased you, knowing how much Quackity hated it and enjoying his confused expressions and sounds.
He spent three weeks on the back of your horse as you lead him through the area. No matter how he tried to convince you he was fine to walk, his pained groans and awkward hobbling said otherwise. So, you stayed by his side, never faltering in your care for him.
It was a little off though. He was a complete stranger, yet you made the effort to care for him almost as though you were an old friend. Most people wouldn’t do this much, even for a stranger. You gave him the good share of food and fluffed the pillows on his bed every night.
"Why are you taking care of me? You barely even know me." Quackity asked one night. You had stopped at a near by village, taking refuge at an inn for the night. You carried him upstairs, much to his embarrassment, and let him take the more comfortable bed.
"I'm a doctor," You said as you absentmindedly busied yourself in fixing his pillows and checking his ankle, This was something he didn't realize at the time would be something he would hear a million times over. "I help where I'm needed."
Quackity let it go after some time had passed. After the few weeks his ankle needed to heal, that was when he was the one following you around. Unlike him, you never said a word about it. Only smiling and letting him tag along on your adventure.
You both wandered together, doing everything and nothing together. You and him and become best friends, almost family.
You stayed together, even when he left to join the Dream SMP. You stayed by his side when he was up to no good, creating chaos and havoc where he went. You built a small cottage where Quackity spent more time in than his own house. You still let him take the comfier bed and were up every morning to greet him with breakfast.
Even when the wars started and you claimed neutrality, you stayed close by his side. You claimed loyalty to him, and to keep your practice up as a doctor available to anyone in need.
As much as he wanted you to himself, only on his side, he knew there was no way to keep you from doing what you had always done. He loved that about you, something he realized too late.
When Wilbur had blown up L’manberg, lives were lost. Yours included. It was the first life you lost, and thankfully the only one you lost. You’d been in the middle of the explosion. It took him too long to find you. There was no sign of you, only the message on his communicator that you had died.
Your body had despawned in the midst of the chaos. So, Quackity went to your house to find you. You’d been shuffling around your house already, grabbing potions, food, and other items you needed. You barely even noticed he was there until he had pulled you in for a hug. You were stiff in his arms, tense and anxious from losing a life. Though your face hadn’t showed any fear, it was your body language that told him everything.
“Quackity...”
“Please don’t scare me like that again.”
Quackity couldn’t let out the tears that welled up in the corner of his eyes. knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop. He hide his face in your crisp, white button down, gripping you by the loose material. He was terrified, downright shaking to his core at the thought of losing you. Every three lives counted, even if they were just three lives.
You nodded, wrapping your arms around his and burying your face on top of his. You and him stayed like that until you managed to pull away and drag him back over to the chaos that was L’manberg. There, you did what you did best.
After that, it had just been you and him. Just like old times. Until he started hanging out with Sapnap and Karl. It mostly started off as flirty banter until somehow he ended up having both Sapnap and Karl plant kisses on his cheeks and lips, face flustered and heart beating faster than it ever had. It took awhile to admit it, even to himself, that he had fallen in love.
He was scared to, scared to let himself be open again. Especially after Schlatt. The thought of him made a shiver go down his spine. He could still remember the constant berating insults thrown his way, the arguments and broken glass on the floor. Everything during his time as vice president was like a blurry nightmare he wished he could forget. He didn’t like to linger on him, even when he was sober and more aware of everything.
You had been the one to convince him, to show him that it was going to be okay. He’d come over when the sun had set and the moon was high in the sky. And, of course, you’d have a cup of hot chocolate ready for him. You’d hold his hand and rub his back with the other, whispering comforting words.
After gaining enough confidence, he finally managed to open up more to Sapnap and Karl. They noticed the change in him and absolutely relished in his new-found affection.
But he saw you less and less. Of course, he was trying to spend more time with his fiances. But he still liked to go to your cottage and spend time there. Except, you were always busy when he came by. You’d smile apologetically and tell him you couldn’t leave until you finished your errands around the SMP.
“I’m afraid I won’t able to join you today.”
“Why won’t you take a break?” Quackity asked, watching you grab your shoulder bag and fill it with vials and other things. You sighed, breaking your concentration to glance at him and frown. “Q, you know I can’t. Not when they need my help.”
You slung the bag carefully over your shoulder, grabbing the lead by the door and your walking stick (He made you one a long time ago, it was supposed to be a play on how much of an old man you acted like. He found that it suited you quite well, he even added a few charms to it.)
“What about me?”
You stopped in your tracks, your hand still on the doorknob. You turned to face him, confusion written all over your face.
“What?”
“I need you, more than anyone. And you’re ditching me for everyone else.” Quackity confessed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you not care about me anymore?”
You sighed, letting go the handle and making your way over to him. You went to rest your hands on his shoulders, just like you always did, but you hesitated and instead let your hands fall down to your sides. “I do care, I always will.” You said, trying to reassure him. “I didn’t mean to make you question us, Q.” Quackity knew you never intended to hurt him, you wouldn't do that. But once you set your mind on something, you wouldn't let anything stop you.
“Here,” Quackity let out a disappointed sigh, pulling out a folded envelope and holding it out to you. “It’s an invitation.”
You took it, scanning the card inside, “To your wedding?”
The invitation was pretty and simple, designed mostly by Karl. The card-stock was thick and ivory. The lettering was gold and fancy, glowing when the light shone on it. It had all three of their names: Quackity, Sapnap, and Karl. It had those flower designs on it that Quackity watched Karl painstakingly work on for hours.
“Of course,” Quackity scoffed. “Why wouldn’t I have my best friend at my wedding?”
You stayed quiet, eyebrows furrowed and the smile gone from your face once again. There it was again. That look on your face, the one he saw when you thought he wasn't looking after he announced his engagement. It confused him, made him feel as though you were a thousand miles away even when you were several feet away from him. You put the card back and tucked the envelope inside your bag, buried underneath everything you had.
"I should go," You said after a moment before turning away. "Go home, Quackity."
“You’ll come, right?” Quackity reached out to grab your hand, not wanting to see you go again. You stared at your connected hands, thumb rubbing his hand subconsciously. You stayed quiet until you nodded.
Before leaving, you placed a small kiss to his exposed forehead and left. He watched you leave, the kiss lingering too long on his mind. He didn’t know that would be the last time he would see you.
You never sent word about your whereabouts and what happened. Quackity had asked everyone where they had seen you leave, but got no answers. He tried sending you messages, but every message was delivered and never read.
He gave up after some time. He was angry at you for leaving him. You'd always been there, yet when you finally left, you left him in a pool of resentment and confusion. You weren't there when his own fiancés up and left him in the dust, his heart broken and fragile. You weren't there when he built Las Nevadas, when he created the family he had now. Sometimes he dreamed of you. You'd stand in his room, pushing the curtains open for the morning sun to flood the room. You would turn around when you'd noticed he was awake, smiling kindly at him. And just as you opened your mouth to say something, you'd disappear in a blink of an eye.
He'd see you around Las Nevadas, admiring his great city. He'd see you standing in the chapel, playing with the flowers and rearranging them. He'd see you on the Needle, looking over the distance and pointing out the little things your eyes could see. You haunted him everyday, your smiles leaving a bittersweet taste in his mouth. His forehead still burned where you kissed it. He washed it all out with the drinks at the bar. If he wasn't working, he'd spend his time there. He'd drink and drink until he was halfway to passing out and ended up on the floor of his penthouse in the morning.
It took him time to realize how much he missed you, how much he actually loved you. It was always you, even when others stood between you and him. Though his heart ached at the deep betrayal he felt at the thought of Sapnap and Karl. Your betrayal and absence stung harder. He tried denying it, pushing the realization to the back of his mind to linger and eventually, and hopefully, die.
Tonight was one of those nights. He had Wilbur up his ass all day with his shenanigans, production was slow and the bar was looking like a fine piece of candy in his eyes. So, here he was. Drinking underneath all the lights and noise of the casino. He was alone, just like he always was.
Charlie was off somewhere doing whatever Fundy or Foolish told him to do. Purpled was hiding somewhere like always, only ever coming out when he needed to eat. So, he wasn’t expecting company especially company his mind liked to torture him with.
You stood several feet from him, silent. You looked different from all those other times he saw you drifting about the property. Your hair had grown out, not as much as his hair but there was a subtle difference. You clothes looked worn and patched up in different places. You had a few wrinkles at the corners of your eyes now. Your hands looked worn and calloused in places that they hadn’t been before.
He stared at you for another brief moment before turning away and downing the rest of his drink. He winced at the burning sensation, ignoring it in favor of pouring himself more. He thought if he ignored you long enough, you’d be gone once he looked back.
Though when he did, you were still there. Your face was unreadable, posture tense and stiff. He narrowed his eyes at you before turning away and burying his face in his hands.
“This is so fucked up.”
“Hello, Quackity.”
He froze, heart skipping a beat at the clear sound of your voice. Slowly, he turned back to you. He couldn’t believe it, never in a million years would he have thought you’d be here. He felt an tiny bit of shame but it was the anger and shock that took over his mind.
“You’re actually here?” Quackity asked, rubbing his eyes with his hands like a child who couldn’t believe their eyes.
“I’m here.” You said before Quackity shot out from his chair rushing over to you. With a few large strides, he reached you. You hesitantly went to hug him, hoping he’d reciprocate until you found yourself pushed away by his hands.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Quackity seethed with anger, hands clenched at his sides to keep himself from throwing himself at you to hug you or strangle you. You straightened yourself out, letting out a long sigh almost as though you expected this from him.
“I deserved that.”
“Yeah, you did,” He said. “And a lot more than that, too.”
You nodded, “I do. You’re right.”
Quackity sighed, turning away from you and leaned on the bar with both hands. He focused on one empty space to keep himself from blowing a fuse. You did nothing to fight against his words. He wanted you to fight back, to say anything else and not let his fear that you did abandon him be true.
You slowly approached his side, like a someone who was stupid enough to approach an angry animal. You sat in the chair next to him, leaving no distance between you two.
“How are you?” You asked, looking at him. He didn’t dare look at you, instead he glared at his drink. If looks could kill, the glass would be shattered on the floor and turning into dust.
“Really?” He laughed mirthlessly, finger tracing over the rim of the glass instead of throwing it somewhere to be cleaned up in the morning. “That’s all you have to say?”
“You caught me off guard with your whole performance a minute ago.” You admitted easily, shruggin your shoulders.
“Why are you here?” Quackity asked, tired of the endless avoidance. All he needed to hear was you say it, say why you left. Maybe then he could sleep better at night.
You stared at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “To see you, of course. Why else?”
This time it was Quackity’s turn to be surprised. All this time and you said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It irritated him beyond belief. He scoffed, “That’s surprising--”
“And why’s that?”
“--You left, you fucking left me without even telling me you were leaving.”
You stayed silent after his outburst. You both knew how much you messed up. You fiddled with a patched up sewing on your pants, eyes drifting to your feet in shame. “I knew you would’ve dropped everything to come with me, that’s why I didn’t tell you.”
“Bullshit, that is such utter bullshit.” Quackity reached his breaking point, swiping the glass off the counter. It shattered the second it hit the floor. Damn, he thought, he should’ve cleaned it dry before doing that. You flinched at the sound, something he didn’t miss.
“I had my reasons to leave, Q--” You spoke, your voice shaky with emotion.
“No, no,” He interrupted you, his hand in the air to stop you. “You lost your privileges to call me that the minute you left, the minute you decided I wasn’t worth it anymore.”
“... Quackity, you couldn’t possibly think you mean so little to me. You have to know I didn’t want to leave you behind. But you had so much here, I didn’t want you to sacrifice all of this because I was dealing with my own problems.”
“We were friends, we looked out for each other and dealt with our problems together!” He shouted, almost finding it painful how you flinched at his voice but he was too angry to even care right now. He knew he had every right to be pissed, you knew it too.
“You don’t think I know that?” You faced him, sadness painting your face and eyes brimming with wet tears. “It pained me everyday to have left you, even when I knew it was for the best.”
Quackity had rarely seen you cry, or at least almost cry. He used to joke you were secretly dead on the inside, to which you would say you probably were. The few times he saw cry was when he lost his first life to Technoblade in their duel.
He had spawned back into his bed at your cottage, left angry and bitter. It was only moments later that you busted through the door, stumbling over to him, reaching out to him and cradling his face in your hands. You spoke too quickly, too low for him to understand. You eyes were blown wide and tears were starting to come down. He spent the rest of the night, holding you. He could’ve brushed you off and went off to find the others, but he didn’t have the heart to do it.
He wanted to reach out to you now, again, and wipe the few tears that dripped down your cheek. But he didn’t.
“And what exactly was your problem? You keep dancing around it like someone who won’t admit they fucked up.”
“I fell in love.” You finally confessed, your cheeks flustered underneath his glare.
He stared at you in disbelief. Maybe he wasn’t ready to hear that right now. He had half a mind to find whoever you fell in love with and erase them from existence. He was jealous, not that he would admit it out loud.
“..What?”
“I fell in love with someone who was getting married to someone else, so I ran.” You said, clearly embarrassed. It was a new look on you to see you in such a state. He was usually the one who was embarrassed. It felt rewarding to see you like this.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“I was afraid of losing the one thing I depended on for so long, like the roots of a tree being forced to rip themselves from the soil in which they had grown into.” You said and he knew you were fucking with him on purpose, trying to hide what you meant to throw him off.
“Stop fucking talking in metaphors and tell me the truth, asshole or I’ll get the guards to throw your ass out.” He growled, knowing a threat could get him the truth.
“You, I fell in love with you.”
Quackity’s eyes widened,
“Me?..” God, Quackity was about to combust. You were in love with him the whole fucking time and he was stupid enough not to see it. You never even gave him any clue or hint. Even when he was with Schlatt, you were there at his side on the days when things were tense. You’d been appointed as Schlatt’s doctor, so you’d been there through that mess. You said nothing to him when he started to his relationship with Sapnap and Karl, merely drifting away like a ghost.
Had he noticed sooner, he would’ve given you a chance. But there was no point in dwelling in the past because you were back and he could
“Yes, but I saw how happy you were with Sapnap and Karl.” You said solnmly, clasping your hands together, not knowing what to do with them as Quackity stood there in silence. “I didn’t want to ruin what few good things you had in life because I was jealous.”
“You,” He stared at you in shock and maniac glee. “You fucking dumbass.”
He burst out into laughter, a kind of laugh he hadn’t been able to manage in so long. His body moved with him, it made him stumble. He nearly fell over his own two feet, you reached out to catch him, but Quackity managed to sit down on his chair and let the laughter leave his body. It was a loud and real laugh, the kind of laugh that had him nearly in tears.
“Pardon?” You said, clearly offended.
Quackity was still laughing, but he tried to stop. It was hard, especially when he in near-tears. Finally, he managed to stop, breathless and throughly exhausted. “I loved you, too.” He said, not being able to hide the fondness in his voice.
You stared at him, mouth parted open before you shut it and hide your face in your hands, slumped against the counter. “You did?”
“Yes, it just took me awhile to figure it out.” Quackity said truthfully, ignoring the pink flush on his face. Whether it was from the alcohol or the embarrassing reveal of his feelings, he didn’t know. The anger he had was there no longer, maybe the sting of sadness was still lingering, but something else was there, too.
“Right, but I don’t want to ruin things anymore than I have.” You eventually said, standing up from your seat, wiping the imaginary dust off your clothes. “I’m sorry I never got to see you at your wedding.”
“Don’t worry about that. It never happened.” Quackity said, ignoring the shocked look on your face. He was too exhausted to talk about that with you. It would take him awhile to update on everything that happened while you were gone.
“What? What do you--”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Not now, at least, I’m too drunk to explain it all.” Quackity slumped over, the adrenaline leaving his body. It felt him feeling shitty and the floor was starting to spin a little too much for it to be safe. You noticed his drunk, almost wasted state when you came in, not commenting on it since it was obvious the man had been here too many times for it to look natural.
“Here,” You moved closer, hands on his shoulders to keep him upright. “May I?”
Quackity sighed, leaning into your chest, “You’ll do it even if I say no.”
You laughed, the rumble of your chest comforting Quackity. It had been too long since he heard you laugh, He hoped he remembered this in the morning.
“I wouldn’t, I like it when you say yes to me.”
“Shut up and take me to bed already.”
You picked him up, carefully putting one arm behind his back and another underneath his knees. His arms were already around your neck, holding tight. You carried him like some bride, if he was sober, he’d feel embarrassed to even be seen like this. But maybe it isn’t so bad if it’s just you.
“Will there be dinner before that?” You teased, not even bothering to hide the mischievous smile on your face. “Oh my god, shut up.”
“I’m teasing you, I missed doing that.”
“Yeah,” Quackity said, quietly as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “I did too.”
It wasn’t long before you and him were in his penthouse, in his room. It was barely used, seeing as he never bothered to stay in unless he was really hung over. It was rare, but it happened. You laid him on the bed, shuffling around the room to find a spare blanket. Quackity had his eyes closed, wanting to fall asleep quicker but also wanting to stay up and stare at you a little bit more.
Eventually, you found a blanket and draped it over him. You wasted no time to untie his tie and unhook his suspenders, placing them on his nightstand. Lastly, you took off his beanie, running a hand through it. You were one of the few, if there were any, who had the privilege of seeing his hair. It felt nice to have someone that wasn’t him run a hand through his hair, as if he mattered to them.
“You’ll be here when I wake up, right?” Quackity asked quietly, words slurred as his mind was beginning to shut down. He heard you shift on the edge of the bed, before you finally responded. “Of course, now sleep. It’s been a long day.”
Quackity hummed underneath his breath before relaxing into the plush of his bed. He could still feel your hand on him, pushing the hair that fell over his forehead aside. You placed a kiss on his forehead, just like you had done long ago. Then, just like that, your touch was gone and the foot falls of your shoes filled the quiet room. He heard the creak of the door, and just before it closed, he whispered three he so desperately needed you to hear.
“I forgive you.”
The creaking faltered for just a moment until the door clicked shut and Quackity fell asleep for a long time.