Chapter Text
Wilbur knew it wasn’t a great habit to be falling asleep on the hardwood floor of his daughter's room, but he couldn’t bring himself to care much. It had been about a week since he returned, but the days had been blurring together.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to everyone, it’s that the amount of new people on the island was completely overwhelming. The amount of things that had changed kind of scared him, and with his daughter missing, the complete change of everything on the island was a little too much for his brain to handle. It was so much easier to stay in the house and wait, wait for any sign, any clue to appear, anything that he would know how to handle.
That’s why he was here now, wasn’t it? Because he was still desperately waiting for any sign of his daughter. He reached for the chest out of habit at this point, pushing open the lid, quelling the hopes he’s had many times over the past week.
He found the contents of the chest lying untouched, everything exactly where Wilbur had placed it. Wilbur let out a small sigh before closing the lid and putting his weight on the chest to push himself up. He began to roll his shoulders, attempting to relieve some of his discomfort, but a noise from downstairs caught his attention.
Someone was knocking on the door.
If it was Phil, he would have come in by now, so it had to be someone else. Not too many people have approached his house since the first day, but he can’t really blame them since he’s been so stand offish. He brushed himself off before descending the ladder, stumbling to the door to keep the person from waiting longer.
He practically fell into the door because of his carelessness, but quickly opened it, an apology already prepared.
“Sorry for the wait, I had to take care of so-"
Wilbur cut himself off when his eyes landed on a pair of golden yellow wings facing him. It wasn’t hard to figure out who it was, especially with the head of raven hair beneath a blue beanie. Wilbur was too surprised to panic before Quackity turned around, looking a little startled at Wilbur’s sudden appearance.
“Oh- hey,” Quackity stammered, offering a small wave while glancing to the side, “I wanted to come by to introduce myself, well I guess reintroduce myself-"
Wilbur tried to keep his face from falling. He should have been prepared for this. One of the many things Phil tried to catch him up on was what happened to Quackity, or at least, what they think happened to him.
“My name’s Quackity, but from what people have been telling me, you already know that. I don’t know about the whole “marriage” thing, but I had an… incident”, his eyes shifted to the side, “that made me lose some memories, and apparently we knew each other well.”
"Look, I'll tell you everything I know, Wil." Phil had told him, a few days after the first time Wilbur had seen Quackity since his departure. Since the hybrid treated him like a stranger. “He went missing during the wedding. The day he came back… he was completely disoriented. He didn’t seem to remember any of us, and what’s even stranger is that he couldn’t read or write either. Lots of people have tried talking to him, but he was very dismissive. Nobody has been able to figure out what happened to him.”
“To be honest I didn’t believe them at first, but then I found this picture among my stuff-” Quackity pulled out a small Polaroid from his pocket and presented it to Wilbur, shaking him from his thoughts, “and- well when you got to the island it was easy to recognize that it was you, so I thought I should talk to you.”
Wilbur was surprised he still had it, considering his predicament. Wilbur had kept his Polaroid on him his entire time off the island, and the fact that Quackity still kept his half even with no memories gave Wilbur the slightest bit of hope. He did his best to muster up a soft smile.
“Sure, how about you come inside and sit down”
The words were not easy to get out, he felt nauseous. The fact that Quackity of all people, another person Wilbur cared about, had completely lost his memories in his absence only made all his current worries more overwhelming. He wanted to throw questions at Q, beg him for answers, to know what happened to him. But he knew that based on what Phil said, that was the last thing Quackity needed right now. So, Wilbur stepped aside to lead Quackity to the couch they shared their last meal together on. The meal they had 6 months ago that only one of them remembered.
It would be so easy to bombard him with questions, to plead for Quackity to remember anything, but seeing how he glanced around the house, trying to mask his nervousness with a blank face despite his fingers restlessly fidgeting, he knew he couldn’t betray Quackity’s trust like that, however small it was right now.
Quackity’s trust would take a while to earn again, and it wouldn’t be easy, but god he couldn’t just leave him be, he wanted to help. He cared about Quackity, whether he remembered him or not.
“Well, I’ll start with the basics, my name is Wilbur, I’m a musician who came to the island about 8 months ago. I left for tour about 6 months ago, and only got back a few days ago." They were sat on the couch now, Quackity on one end, and Wilbur on the other. Wilbur was looking anywhere but the man who had his full attention on him.
There was a small pause before his guest spoke up, “How do I know you then?”
Straight to the point, Wilbur couldn’t blame him, but that was kind of a complicated question.
“Well that's a bit of a long story,” Wilbur began to explain, his hands beginning to fidget with the end of his scarf, “We were both part of the group that first came to the island. We met and talked a lot on the first day- but I had to leave for a while after that and didn’t come back till about a month later…” He trailed off.
“And?” Quackity was looking at him, his hands surprisingly still as he waited for an answer. Wilbur couldn’t keep eye contact with him.
Wilbur let out a small sigh, “Well… that’s where it gets complicated, um- do you remember why you have that ribbon?” He said, pointing to said item tied around Quackity’s wrist.
Quackity’s eyes widened for a second before looking down at the ribbon. “I- I do, it belonged to my kid, Tilín” he began to rub the slack ribbon between his fingers.
Again, Wilbur felt the slightest spark of hope. So he did have some memories, or at least had uncovered some already. That was a better sign than Wilbur could’ve hoped for. But still, he needed to manage his expectations. He couldn’t set himself up for disappointment.
“Yeah, I didn’t know them too well because she- well they passed before I got back” he hesitantly looked up to gauge Quackity’s reaction.
The man was staring at the ribbon. It looked like he was trying to keep a blank face, but little hints were showing through. All he said was, “I see.”
Wilbur stayed quiet to let Quackity have the time to say anything else. After the silence continued to last, he started again.
“There was a misunderstanding. You thought I was supposed to be Tilíns other parent, so you weren’t happy with me when I came back.” He explained, “But I found out that I had my own kid, her name is Tallulah.”
Quackity seemed to perk up at that, looking back in Wilbur’s direction, “You mentioned her to me the other day, didn’t you?” It seemed like he was eager to change the subject, Wilbur couldn’t say he wasn’t a bit relieved.
“Yeah, you cared about Tallulah a lot so I though-.”
“So she’s missing too.”
Somehow it still felt like a slap to the face, even though practically everything on this island reminded him of his daughter.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.” The hybrid said after a moment, looking back down to his hands.
Wilbur looked up quickly, noticing that even though the man was trying to stay unreadable, it was clear he was a bit uncomfortable, even a bit- remorseful? “You don’t need to be,” He said, letting out a huff with a small smile, “It wasn’t your fault, we’ll find them soon.”
They sat there for a few minutes, both unsure of where to take the conversation next, afraid to make it worse.
Quackity spoke first, “You said I was close to her?”
This brought a small smile to Wilbur’s lips. The memories of Tallulah talking about Mr. Smiley guy, how she would play with Quackity, her little smirks and sass when she would ask him questions about the duck hybrid.
“Yeah,” he said. “You were going through a lot so I did my best to offer you support, but Tallulah and her big heart couldn’t help but try and comfort you as well. She wanted you to be part of the family.” Wilbur said, smiling fondly at the signs on the wall. “I think she already did.”
Quackity’s eyes widened slightly, he didn’t seem to know how to respond to that. Instead, he held the Polaroid photo in his hands again and started to fidget with the corner, “Why do I just have a photo of you then?” He asked.
Wilbur felt himself blush a bit at the question, whether out of embarrassment or something else, he didn’t know. “Oh- well, it’s a bit silly,” He began, fidgeting with his scarf again, “Before I left, Phil took a similar picture of you when we were hanging out.” He couldn’t help but smile at the memory, “I found it hilarious so I had him take a photo of me too, then we exchanged them as friendship bracelets of sorts.”
He could see Quackity glance up at him in the corner of his eye before looking down at the photo again. “Huh.”
“The one I have of you is actually upstairs, I could show you it in a minute if you’d like.” He offered, “But, I mean for Tallulah, she was obviously staying on the island. This was more of a departure gift I guess.” He said with a bit of sheepish smile, “You really didn’t want me to go, so I wanted to give you something to have till-” Wilbur caught himself for a moment, face falling as he became unsure if he should continue his sentence. But when he looked over, Quackity was looking expectantly, so he continued, “Till I got back…”
He couldn’t bring himself to face Quackity at that. With everything that had happened while he was gone, he practically felt at fault for it. A part of him expected Quackity to blame him too, he had done it before.
After an uncomfortable span of silence, Quackity was the one who broke the tension. “Did I take care of her while you were gone?” Quackity asked, choosing to look at the signs on the wall instead of Wilbur.
Wilbur didn't care that it was an abrupt subject change, he was grateful for it anyway, for the immediate relief from the tension even if it was a bit awkward. He let out a small chuckle at the question, “No, I left her in the care of Phil, the old guy up on the wall, he’s practically my father, so I left her in his care.”
“Why not me?” Quackity responded rather abruptly.
The question caught Wilbur a little off guard. “Oh- well, you were still in the process of grieving at the time.” He answered quickly, “While I had trust in you, I knew you were still going through things so I didn’t want to put the entire burden of taking care of a child on you out of nowhere.” Wilbur wasn’t lying, but he also didn’t think it was a good time to explain the therapy incident- or the Gegg incident. Quackity could remember that if he got his memory back.
When, he corrected, it had to be when he got his memory back.
“I guess that would make sense,” Quackity said, a somewhat contemplative look on his face as he directed his attention back to the ribbon.
God, Wilbur swore he used to be better at reading his expressions. Quackity was never an open book to Wilbur, but there was always something that gave him away, something that he could always pick up on that would suggest how he should respond. Now, it was like there was a wall, completely blocking any attempt Wilbur made to pick apart his expression, only leaving him with simple emotions and nothing to lean on. Did leaving do this to him? Or had Quackity actually changed that much? Maybe it was both.
Wilbur pushed forward, “You really wanted to though, Phil told me that you demanded to take care of her several times, and eventually, he let you.” He said, letting out another chuckle, “According to him, you did a very good job, Tallulah loved spending time with you.”
There was the smallest shift in the man’s expression. Wilbur swore he could see a faint smile on his lips. “I guess I must have really cared about her,” Quackity said, still staring at his hands, holding the ribbon.
“Yeah, and she, we cared about you,” Wilbur said, turning his body to fully face Quackity on the couch.
It almost looked like Quackity startled in his seat upon hearing those words. After a moment, he tentatively turned his face toward Wilbur, now doing his best to hold eye contact with him. His eyes darted back and forth, looking as though he was trying to think, until he broke the silence.
“Could… could you tell me more stories of you, me, and Tallulah?”
Wilbur felt a bit of warmth come to his face as he smiled. “Of course Quackity.”
After a moment, Wilbur stood up and stretched, “Although, I think it's around lunchtime. If you’re hungry I can make some food and then we can talk more.”
It was now Quackity who smiled, lifting Wilbur’s spirits just a bit more despite the expression being tentative and small. It almost looked as if there was a slight red tint to the hybrid’s cheeks, but Wilbur had to be imagining things.
“Yeah, that would be nice.”