Work Text:
Tubbo was healing. He started Snowchester, began a family, and had a new life there. Tubbo's put away his nukes. He's fine. When Tommy died he went through the five stages of grief, meaning he's obviously no longer thinking about it now. It happened, he accepted it, and Tommy's even alive.
He didn't know how to work through that however, there weren't five stages for when someone comes back into your life. There still wasn't one when Wilbur was revived.
So yeah. Tubbo was fine, he was healing. He had a support system, even if he and Ranboo never talked about their issues. It was still a support system, wasn't it?
He also had a healthy worry over Michael. It was completely normal for a parent to be so obsessed over the safety of their child that they never leave their room without supervision. Or that only one or two other people were ever allowed to see their child. Tubbo had a healthy protective attitude over Michael, which proved how well he had adjusted.
It went right next to his other plans in his mind. Move into the mansion, arm the Snowchester Outpost, do what he needed to in order to heal. Whatever that happened to be for whatever traumatic event he had been through. Because Tubbo was good about his mental health, that's why he was doing everything correctly. That’s why the walls he’d put up were reasonable defenses, nothing more.
That’s why Tubbo was surprised he didn’t feel like he had a purpose. He should be perfectly adjusted now, everything should be good in his life now he was healing. He had no problems, so why did it not feel like it? Why did his heart feel like it had a hole the size of a creator into the earth’s bedrock?
He waited by the said crater, a year after the creation of what it had once been. He tried to sort through his feelings through a song. Wilbur had taught him how to do it, how to let the strings play as if it was a piece of his heart. Tubbo was fine, despite the wet tears that choked his voice when Ranboo and Wilbur appeared not long after.
When Quackity afterward made his offer to Tubbo, Tubbo was acutely aware that Quackity’s motives were anything but selfless. He had borne his heart, had made himself vulnerable and now he had to face the consequences. Tubbo wasn’t sure why he felt drawn to Quackity even after all this time.
Tubbo accepted, not because he trusted Quackity, but because deep down… Tubbo knew there was no way he was going to throw the first punch. The offered had told him, Quackity felt the same. Tubbo guessed that had Quackity not reached out they would have been at a constant stalemate, making themselves look bigger the longer time went on.
The day after Tubbo joined Las Nevadas, he headed up to the top of the Space Needle where Quackity sat. As it revolved, Quackity sipped on a glass of whiskey as he flipped through paperwork. A cigarette had been put out in the ashtray next to the papers, causing a lingering smell of smoke.
For a moment, Tubbo wasn’t in Las Nevadas. For a moment it wasn’t Quackity sitting at the table but instead a different man, wearing a sleek suit. Then as Quackity spoke, Tubbo was brought back to the present.
“Do you… need something, Tubbo?”
A quiet understanding passed between the two as Tubbo glanced at the glass in Quackity’s hand. The bitter understanding of why. That the world could be so cruel it forced people to be their own worst nightmares.
“Just wanted to talk about the restaurant.” Business, that’s what Quackity was now. All business. Tubbo remembered a time when his smile had been genuine, which had made Tubbo himself smile. Now anytime Tubbo looked at Quackity, he was reminded of his own failures. As he saw the scar over Quackity’s eye, the sharpness in his gaze, and smelled the scent of liquor. They may have not been directly Tubbo’s fault, but he’d been a bystander.
It wasn’t Tubbo’s job to worry about Quackity. In fact, Tubbo knew Quackity had made his own mistakes, the burn scars on his own palms were proof of that.
“Well.” Quackity gestured to the chair in front of him. “Sit down and tell me what you think.” He gave a smile, but Tubbo didn’t detect a hint of genuineness in it. “Can I get you a drink?”
He did however detect a kindness to it, underneath Quackity’s scarring. That was the difference between Quackity and Tubbo, just like with Las Nevadas, Quackity was afraid of walls. Despite his cold exterior, despite the threats he threw at Tubbo, Quackity was all talk. Tubbo noticed it in the way he’d helped Foolish painstakingly pour the concrete for the road, the way he’d set out land specifically for Fundy to use and helped watch over Yogurt when Fundy was gone, and the way he let Slime follow him around like a puppy without even a trace of annoyance.
“Yes… thank you.” Tubbo nodded. Tubbo on the other hand was more careful, he wasn’t afraid of his walls and instead relied on them as support. Because so long as Tubbo had them, so long as he made himself look as big as possible with his nukes, the more he’d be able to protect Michael and Ranboo. It was normal to be so afraid, to bottle it all up, since he had his support he was still fine.
Tubbo’s walls also functioned as a dam. So long as they were there, he didn’t need to worry about what was behind it. So long as he kept them strong, they wouldn't crack.
As Quackity poured a glass, Tubbo took it silently. Another flash of understanding passed between the two. Even though Tubbo could no longer recognize Quackity, he still understood him. How could he not?
“I wanted to know what else we wanted to put on the menu.” Tubbo spoke after a moment.
"Oh- well…" Quackity took a moment to think. "Why don't you come up with some ideas and I'll look them over later." He suggested, crossing his legs in his chair.
“Right,” Tubbo agreed. He’d play the part of the helpful employee, just like he’d played every other role in his life. Revolutionary, cabinet member, spy, president, strong leader. The only roles Tubbo had chosen for himself were husband and father, every other had been chosen for him and he hadn’t had the guts to say no.
Quackity then pulled out a map. “I actually wanted to find you and discuss, the outpost. I think we can reroute the fields to make our burgers."
Tubbo tensed thinking about it, remembering how distraught Ranboo had seemed at him handing it over. Ranboo had been the one to design the fields, to help Tubbo hoe and tend the land. He'd probably be heart broken to see it but… Quackity was right. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Las Nevadas could probably use the resources."
It hurt Tubbo to say, even as the smoke filled his lungs and he took a sip of his drink. The alcohol bitter on his lips next to the feeling of guilt that seemed to pierce a small hole in his heart.
"If we're going to do it." Quackity's voice became serious, signaling that it was time for business. "We have to take down the walls."
Tubbo's eyes widened. No, the walls had to stay. They were what made the Outpost safe, what kept everything inside it. If the walls were gone, it would be bare to the world. "What- no! Big Q. You still can't. It… needs them. What if Dream were to attack, or something else.
"Tubbo." Quackity sighed. "It's part of Las Nevadas now, just like you. There's no point to the walls. I'll give you some time to think it over, but as your President Tubbo, as your friend. I'm asking you to take them down."
Friend. The word hung in the air quietly. They both knew it wasn't true, they both hadn't been friends for a long time. Saying it now didn't make it true.
Tubbo paused for a long moment. He’d asked a question before, in the heat of the moment, and wasn’t satisfied with the answer. Perhaps it also hadn’t been phrased correctly. As it wasn’t just Quackity who needed to answer it.
“What happened to us?” Tubbo asked quietly, and Quackity stared at him.
Quackity closed his good eye before taking another drink. “You can’t be fucking serious. Tubbo, what happened ? We changed.” His voice was harsh as he spoke. “We adapted because we had to.” He then seemed to notice his tone, his next words were soft as he stared into the orange liquor. “We had to survive.”
“I know Big Q!” Tubbo took a deep breath, reeling back his defenses. “I guess I meant, when did we stop being friends? Even during New L’manberg, you stayed by my side. Sure you weren’t… the most stable. Neither was I, but…” For a moment Tubbo let himself be vulnerable. “We’re both the ones who knew what Schlatt was like.”
Quackity tensed at that, avoiding Tubbo’s gaze. “Does it matter? We’re different people now. Doesn’t mean anything important.”
“I guess.” Tubbo muttered. He’d wondered when they’d started building walls between each other. Perhaps it had been when Quackity had run against Wilbur and Tommy, or when Tubbo had decided to exile Tommy, or perhaps when they’d both decided the butcher army was a good idea. Just a few days ago it had been Quackity with his heart on his sleeve and Tubbo with the walls, in just a few moments that had reversed. “…Why did you want to invite me to Las Nevadas, even after I threatened to nuke you?”
Quackity shrugged. “You needed a purpose. I wanted to give you one. Something new for you to work on.”
“That’s not it,” Tubbo deflected. “Big Q, I know it’s not that. We’re not like that anymore. If you really wanted me to just join you out of the goodness of your heart, you wouldn’t have asked me to sign away the Outpost.”
“Well, what do you want me to say?” Quackity asked, standing up quickly. “I’m manipulating you? I did it for my own gain? Yeah, I did. Tubbo, you were alone and without a purpose just like everyone else here in Las Nevadas. But Tubbo…” Quackity stepped forward. “When I say this, it’s because that’s how you get ahead. You can’t be nice on this server, you know that. That’s the whole fucking reason you threatened to bomb this place! Isn’t it?”
Had that been the reason? Whenever Tubbo had tried to think of ways to protect Snowchester, his mind always went to the three deaths L’manberg had. Each in a fiery explosion, each bigger than the last. Perhaps he had, perhaps he’d looked at that and decided that the only way to survive would be through the same method. Just like Quackity was saying.
“I wouldn’t have done it.” Tubbo finally said, gripping his glass in his hand. “Not that I could if I did want to. But the nukes are missing Big Q. I only have one left.”
Quackity blinked before giving an exasperated laugh. “Oh. So- you were bluffing ? I… guess I should’ve realized. Wow .” Quackity, covered his mouth with his hand as he wiped down his face. “That’s… that’s I'm going to be honest. I don't completely know how to feel about that. You’re good Tubbo. I gotta admit.”
“Do you actually mean that?” Tubbo asked, folding his arms. “Or are you doing that thing where you compliment someone but mean it in that way where you’ll only say it when you want something.”
“Depends Tubbo.” Quackity sat back down, leaning back in his chair. “Who am I talking to? You, or my employee?”
Tubbo blinked, then looked down at his feet. “I…”
Did he feel safe enough around Quackity to be himself? If it was Techno, he was definitely different. With Techno he had to be strong, but not a threat; respectable but out of the way. With Dream he didn’t have a choice, he had to be whatever puppet Dream wanted him to be. With Wilbur… Tubbo was pretty sure he was the only person who’d hurt him that Tubbo felt comfortable being himself around, to call him out. Wilbur was a threat, but he respected more when Tubbo called him out than when Tubbo tried to play a role.
Was Quackity like that? Could Tubbo talk to him like they were equals?
“Think about it. Once you’ve decided, then we’ll talk again. If you decide it’s the first, maybe there’s a chance we can talk.” Quackity slid the ashtray to the side before setting down his drink. “If not, then I think our conversation is over.”
Tubbo was pretty sure he knew what Quackity meant. If Tubbo decided the latter, that’s how Quackity would treat him. They would say they were friends, say how close they were, but underneath that they would remain total strangers to each other. Because at this point, Quackity was a stranger to Tubbo and Tubbo was pretty sure he was also a stranger to Quackity.
Tubbo stood up before nodding. “I understand.” He muttered.
Tubbo was fine. He was healing. He wasn’t quite sure where Quackity fell into that. Perhaps it was normal for people to understand each other so wholly and completely, and yet not know each other at all. Tubbo knew nearly everything about Quackity, and Quackity had seen everything Tubbo had gone through, and yet neither of them could recognize the other.
As Tubbo stood up, he saw Quackity go towards the terrace. Even from the above skyline, Tubbo could see the Outpost. Beneath it, the stone walls. The only walls in Las Nevadas.
Tubbo had a decision to make. He had to decide whether those walls would stay or go. If he did decide he was ready to let go of them, he also needed to work carefully and figure out a way to keep what was inside from spilling out. Tubbo knew how destructive a dam could be, he'd seen the fallout himself of someone else's as they'd stood over the wreckage.
And as Tubbo walked towards the elevator, he saw Quackity staring out at the city below. Without speaking, they exchanged a gaze that held so much and yet nothing at all. The next second, the elevator door slid closed.