Work Text:
A knock could be heard on the large doors, the young man which was sitting in front of his desk answered with a sonorous "come in". The doors were open at the same time the man saved in his drawer a photograph he took. His working desk was full of papers, papers which he had to read and see what to do with them. A mayor's job sounded fun until you put your foot in the office.
Two hooded individuals got through the doors, they were dragging something heavy behind them. The mayor felt his eyelid twitch when he saw the mud and blood stains on his wooden floor. He was going to make them clean up their mess after he took care of whatever they have brought with them.
"Report" he ordered from behind his desk making a hand gesture. The hooded people stopped a few meters from the table, saw each other for a moment and the bravest one started to speak.
"We stopped the strike as you asked. But, uh, we were attacked, we think it was the ones who started the strike. Two were capable of escaping but one which is the one we brought. We believe it could be the leader of all the attacks that happened lately."
Luzu felt his heart do a deadly triple cartwheel, falling and hurting itself. He couldn't explain what happened inside his chest otherwise. He nodded a bit, a headache suddenly attacking him.
"Leave him on the ground and leave" the hooded individuals saw each other again for a second. It wasn't that they didn't trust their mayor to do the best for the village, but they did fear that something could happen because the mayor knew the rebel. Even so, they complied with his orders, leaving the doors closed behind them.
The mayor listened quietly to the steps of his henchmen getting farther away. Once he was sure they were really alone, he got up from his seat, picked up his staff which was against the wall behind him, and got close to the guy who was laying on the ground with his face down. He looked disgustingly miserable with his bloody clothes and an arm trying to cover up a serious wound in his stomach. However, he couldn't stop thinking that all this could've been evaded if only Quackity wasn't a fool.
Come on, he wanted to eradicate his governance? Him? Please. He had done him a favor when he, Luzu, had ascended to power. One could be lost when the thought of helping the town is on their heads but to the town that means nothing and they decide to betray the trust and love that he gave.
He frowned when a sharp headache attacked him for the second time. He stopped in front of the Mexican and closed his eyes for a moment, he didn't want to see what he was remembering. Clearly, it wasn't helping, it was a memory of a past life, or at least that's what he supposed because of the orange and slimy person he didn't recognize. He put two fingers between his bulkhead, counting to ten.
"Is this the almighty mayor showing some pity? How generous" Quackity could barely mock him, the pain in his ribs was too much for him to breathe properly and when he was thrown to the ground the pain got worse. Even so, if he had to die he didn't want to give the mayor the pleasure of watching him being weak. He would rather be struck by lightning.
Luzu put down his hand and opened his eyes, the headache seemed to increase when his gaze was on the young man on the ground. He crouched down with the cane still in his hand and using the skull of the cane, he raised the head of the rebel, their eyes encountering.
The eyes are the windows to the soul, that's what he heard once, and at this exact same moment, he knew that that phrase was true. He could see the anger and hatred spilling from the eyes of Quackity, who though was hurt from his feet to his head, didn't back down. The mayor, still thinking in the phrase, was wondering: How did he, Luzu, look like?
Quackity could answer that question easily. There was no expression behind his crimson eyes. Before all this shit started, he could notice when his gaze softened, but now? Now they were almost dead, and he said almost because he thought he can see something in there. Frustration? Sadness? Disappointment? He didn't know and didn't care. Maybe in another moment, he would, but now he doesn't give a fuck.
"You look like hell," said Luzu after a few seconds where they were both analyzing the other silently. He removed his cane from below the chin of the injured, his head falling and making a sound. Quackity bit his bottom lip, he wouldn't give the mayor the pleasure to hear him suffering.
Luzu got up and looked down at the rebel a few seconds more in which the rebel moved his head to face him. He wanted to laugh, smile, or anything, but knew that it wouldn't be the same as before. What happened to them that one day they were joking and flirting and the other pointing knives at each other's throats? And even when the other were at his feet, he just couldn't.
Just a movement of his sword and no more Quackity nor rebellion behind him. He could live happily being the mayor. No more problems, goodbye to the annoying rock on his shoe! And that same thought didn't let him move, the thought that Quackity, his morning sun won't be there anymore... It didn't leave a nice sensation in his chest.
Quackity knew the mayor was caught up in his thoughts, probably deciding his death. What was he thinking? Cutting his head and showing it to the town? Exploding him with mines? Hanging him to death? No, he couldn't let him.
He tried to move his free hand to his hip, the minions of the mayor were so stupid that they didn't confiscate his gun. Were they underestimating him? Those fuckers, when he killed the may-
In a second, the staff was on the hand that he tried to move with so much difficulty, pressing the end with force. He was trying to make a hole in his hand, even trying to increase its size of it by twirling the cane. Quackity choked back a scream and pressed his lips but even so it was inevitable to loudly whine. His wrist was broken and this fucker probably made it worse.
"Quacks, I advise you to not do anything funny. I say it for your own good" the fact that he used the nickname he used to say to him... He was mocking him. This motherfucker had the nerve to mock him.
Luzu saw how the rebel's face showed several emotions. For now, it was pain and anger. The mayor clicked his tongue. Was he such a fool to keep trying to go against him? Seriously? He didn't exaggerate when he said he looked like hell.
He stopped torturing the injured. Raising his cane, he left it beside him, which also took out a sound from Quackity's mouth.
Luzu moved up, his shoes could kick his head, this time he was facing the rebel upside down. He crouched down again and their gazes intertwined again. A hand was hiding his staff over his legs and the other was supporting his head. He looked like a bored student who was still paying attention to the class, that's how he felt and that's how he looked like.
Quackity kept looking at him. Relaxing his mouth, he tried to talk, but instead of that he coughed a mouthful of blood. Ah, his body probably looked like hell. Well, it really felt like his last day alive anyway. He wanted to leave with nothing more than one regret (not being able to kill the mayor) so he opened his mouth again.
"You know, Luzu?" his voice sounded like he hasn't drunk water days ago. "You're a fucking dictator."
Luzu, feeling cheeky, "smiled". Only the corners of his lips got up and his eyes never lit up like when they spent time together, but it was a "smile". Quackity wanted to erase it by smashing his face. Son of a bitch. Even so, counting to three, he kept talking.
"Some time ago, I thought you were someone I could trust even when the others had done me horrible things. You were the one to advise me to not trust them at the beginning, remember? And overall, we had a good relationship. But I guess you didn't see it that way, right, fucker?" the mayor wanted to object, but the rebel didn't let him. He was raising his hand while talking.
"Did you know? Some time ago, I even thought we could be something else when all this campaign shit ended. I didn't want to stop working on it, so I was thinking of letting you know later" he laughed a bit, his wounds getting worse. He whined a bit. His hand finally got to Luzu's cheek, who was watching him with an undecipherable expression to him.
Quackity felt his whole world falling apart. He hoped his cousins were fine after all this, just like the rebellion. He knew he wouldn't get well or even be alive after this. However, he made a last effort to let all his hatred for the mayor be spilled.
"I'm glad I didn't say anything, if I knew all this would happen I wouldn't have gotten near you. Go fuck yourself, mayor. In hell, I'll kill you, fucker."
A loud noise was heard from outside the office, a gunshot. The henchmen of the mayor ran to the office, terrified. When they opened the doors to the office, they relaxed.
"Clean this up" with the gun he stole from the rebel, the mayor pointed to the corpse. In addition to the ugly wounds on it, there was a new hole in the middle of his forehead.
"Yes, mayor" the hooded individuals grabbed the body, one by the legs and the other by the arms. They were proud of the cold blood of their mayor and at the same time scared, so they got out of the office fast and locked the door behind them.
The mayor was now accompanied by silence. He got near his chair behind his desk and sat on it. He kept the gun in a drawer that he opened randomly, it was a coincidence that it was the one with the photograph he was looking at before. The photograph he took of Quackity below the sunshine. He didn't dare to take a glance, so he just dropped the gun and closed the drawer quickly.
'It was a lie, right? All that he just said was a lie, right? Crazy motherfucker...'
He tried to keep reading the papers he was reading on his desk before, ignoring the trembling of his hands, his loud heartbeat, and the disaster of his mind.
That day, Luzu died. That day, the mayor was born.