Chapter Text
Quackity was never good with help.
Well, maybe he was. Years ago, in times he likes to forget about completely. Times before society went to shit. Before heroes only worries were their reputation. Before the hero agency decided to put money above saving people. He really hoped he would witness the day the agency would fall and perhaps watch from a rooftop how the flames would light the whole city and demolish everything in its way. Maybe he could leave this place, knowing that he wasn´t as selfish as the ones he fought and killed. Maybe he could forget the memories of ever stabbing someone and live his idea of a good live.
But he was sure the universe had different plans for him. Maybe one day he would bleed out in a dark alleyway all by himself. Like now. He could stop walking, stop concentrating on his breathing and just fall over and wait for his death. But he would be lying if he said he wasn´t the slightest bit scared of death. Even if everything sounded better than his pathetic life, he was somehow sure death would be worse.
So, he dragged his body again through the dark alleyways, his hands pressing against his blood-soaked shirt. His home, one of his casinos, wasn´t far from here so he wasn´t really worried. These accidents happened all the time, he was one of the most active villains in the city and plus that a top ranked one. It was almost normal coming home, clutching any body parts that were injured. Like today one of the top heroes tried put a fucking sword through his torso, completely ignoring all the rules heroes were taught about no killing. Quackity managed to dodge but it still hit his side, leaving a –thank fuck– not so deep cut. It still bled like a bitch and it fucking hurt. But he could worry about that after he stopped the bleeding.
Stumbling into the backdoor of the casino – he didn´t really wanted to attract attention by walking through the main entrance – he let his head hit the wall, stifling a groan. His eyes darted across the ceiling for a few seconds before a cheery voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Quackity from Las Nevadas, you´re back-“ Slimes cheery voice stopped while scanning him and noticing the blood-soaked shirt and hands. But this wasn´t the first time Quackity would stumble into the casino, sometimes on the verge of death, and refuse any kind of help. His employees never questioned him and he was pretty grateful for that. But it also concerned him that he didn´t knew what to say if someone asked him why he would refuse any help. He buried the thought with many others deep inside his brain and only worry about it when the time would come that someone asked about it.
So, the only thing his slimy, probably not even human friend, said was: “I suppose you don´t want any help with your injury again, Quackity from Las Nevadas?” And the only response Slime would get was a nod, before walking away to God knows where. Sometimes Quackity would thank Slime for his understanding and his friend would happily pat his back and tell him to get well soon.
As soon as he closed his front door behind him, he wanted to just fall over and die again. He let himself fall on the couch, groaning when his wound started to hurt even more. Maybe he could close his eyes and take care of the blood stains on his carpet later.
Quackity was sure he imagined hearing a knock on his door- well, actually he was pretty sure it was real, but he really hoped he imagined it. Perhaps he could just ignore it and keep his eyes closed until the knocking would go away. But again, the universe seemed to have different plans for him.
When Wilbur first met a boy with ink black hair and a bad reputation among the whole foster camp, he was fifteen years old and has been with more foster parents than he could count. But he met someone that was the same. Has been through the same- maybe even worse, Quackity never wanted to tell Wilbur much about his foster system experience. He´d only say "The foster system fucking sucks" and take another drag out of the stolen cigarette. Sometimes Wilbur would start asking Quackity for a cigarette one too many times. The first time he asked, Quackity had looked at him such a shocked look, Wil wasn´t sure if hadn´t said something completely different.
"This won´t make you any more popular." Quackity had said, while studying his face for any kind of regret as he was handed another cigarette. Wilbur would just shrug, taking the cigarette between his pointer and index finger. "It´s not like I am very popular anyway." Quackity´s gaze turned towards the ground. Before taking another drag from the cigarette, he mumbled a quiet "same."
In the end Wilbur actually got adopted though, which was pretty uncommon for someone his age. And sure, he was skeptical at first, scared even that this would end like his other foster family experiences, like the ones Quackity warned him about. But it wasn´t. Phil, a foster parent who already adopted one foster kid in the past, seemed pretty cool. He didn´t know what to think of Techno at first though, but that was fine. They got along in the end after a few "friendly debates". Wilbur wasn´t even that worried anymore. Maybe he could live his last years as a kid normally.
As much as he tried to keep contact with Quackity, his efforts weren´t mutual. The times were his and Quackity´s only problem was getting caught smoking and laughing too loud, was over too soon. And Wilbur could do nothing against it and Quackity seemed like he didn´t even wanted to try. In the end their friendship broke and Quackity was nowhere to be found. The only thing he left was a Lapiz Lazuli chain, standing out from the dirty beds they had to sleep in. And Wilbur took it. Maybe there was something in him that told him it was for him. Maybe he was just tired and wanted something to remember his friend.
Wilbur got older. And before he could even blink, he had another brother and was the second most dangerous ranked super villain in the city. Techno-of course-first ranked, what a nerd.
Wilbur didn´t even remember how he got there but it was something about trying to help. Techno had told him about vigilantes. Even if Techno himself wasn´t a fan of them, he agreed to go out with Wilbur and "help out". That´s what they called it until Phil found out. And holy shit- Though his reaction was probably very understandable for a parent that just found out that his two eldest children were going out at night and “fighting bad guys” as Wilbur would explain it to Phil. While Techno would whisper “told you, idiot.” every five seconds into his ear.
Nobody kept talking about that topic after their talk. Even though at least Wilbur kept going outside, Phil didn´t say anything about it. Techno would always notice when he left at the middle of the night though. His brother would stare at him creepy until Wilbur promised to call if he needed help or something. Nothing changed for a while. That was until Tommy came into their lives. Tommy was a child, a very loud one to say the least. It took a while before the kid started to show his true nature to the family after just recently being adopted. Unlike Wil and Techno, Tommy was an orphan. And even Techno, with his weird urge to kill all orphans, warmed up to the child. Wil was only the tiniest bit jealous. The kid wasn´t even here for four months and had already the whole family wrapped around his finger. Wilbur wasn´t going to fall for this. Never.
And if someone would say they saw Tommy falling asleep on Wilbur´s shoulder more often, then they were liars.
Still, Wilbur couldn´t remember when he was put on the villain list instead of the vigilante one. He also couldn´t remember when “I” became “We”, when his family decided to join him on his “law problem therapy” as Tommy would like to call it. But it happened. And soon he and his whole family was probably the most feared villain group in the city. At some point they started to call themselves “The Syndicate”. Wilbur would say it happened because their powers worked really good together. Tommy would probably say because of his greatness or something. And Phil would agree with him that mostly their combined power gave them a big advantage.
Powers were usually categorized. Mind controlling, physical strength, control of nature and healing. Of course, there were always powers that wouldn´t fit any of these, like Phil´s or Techno´s. But most of part the population could fit their powers in those categories. Wilbur for example had a mind controlling power, where he could control people’s action with his voice. Tommy had a healing power, which without the Syndicate probably be six feet under already. Phil´s power was having wings, which didn´t really fit any of the categories. Wil would say it was more of control of nature-power. While Tommy would argue that it would fit more to physical strength. They were still fighting about it. Techno´s power was the most confusing though. Techno said it was hard to explain but it´s basically a lot of voices inside his head. They called themselves “Chat”. Sometimes that could be helpful and sometimes… not.
Because they didn´t know what these voices exactly were they all agreed that it was mix of mind control, physical strength and control of nature. And to say Wilbur was tired after that agreement was understated.
It was not often, but every now and then they worked together with other villains. Sometimes Wilbur likes to listen to their past and why they became a villain. Most of the time Wilbur didn´t expect to meet anybody from real life in a villain costume though.
But hey, there´s always a first time for anything, right?