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the air stills around him. quackity blinks as a sense of clarity hits him. he looks around the building one last time. mountains of tnt fill the casino, and all it takes is one flick of a lever or one spark of flint and steel to blow up. he made sure that it would kill him, ruining everything he spent years building.
what made him do this?
memories of that... what was that? a dream? a vision? divine intervention? whatever it was, it felt so real. the sounds of the explosions making his ears ring, the white room, the cold knife piercing his skin, the blood soaking his white button-down, everything was so clear.
his grip tightens on the arms of the throne he made for himself, half-assed with stair blocks. he stopped putting on a show after a while of trying to keep everything together.
he feels so... tense. this is the most emotion he has felt in so long, which is ironic as he used to have so much drive, so much determination.
and yet hes sitting here, a flick away from death.
quackity thinks about the fall, the feeling of betrayal as the wind flowed through his hair. (was it ever betrayal if he knew it was for the better?) he remembers the slightest pinch of relief the moment he touched the ground.
he wonders if he left his soul on that ground. he already feels himself rotting in this throne. he feels dead. yet, despite everything, he irks the way the feeling crawls on his skin, how it gives him goosebumps.
he tries to calm down, breathing in and out. he can feel his heart beating out of his chest. he can't stay here any longer.
he needs to get out here. the scent of gunpowder starts to sicken his stomach. if he stays a second longer in this room, he might actually throw up.
he jumps out of his throne, watching his step, afraid to set anything.
"i'm alive." he repeats it like a mantra, to ground himself to the reality he put himself in. what is he doing? he used to be afraid of the idea of ending it like this, and if he looks deep into his heart, he still is.
the walk to the roads of las nevadas is filled with fear and panic, compared to the daze and emptiness he was in when he entered the room filled with explosives. he steps start to become miscalculated, he almost trips on his own feet, but he can't afford to do that. he needs to leave, he can't stay anywhere close to the site, not until the feeling of dread leaves him.
his pace is slow and sluggish, not exactly matching that dedication to leave, but it's not like he can make it any quicker. he's been practically starving himself these weeks, not finding the energy to stomach food, eating just enough to make sure he doesn't die from starvation.
it's a painfully slow way to succumb, he'd know from experience, in non-canonical deaths during the simpler days. it's a terrible way to go.
he doesn't even know where he wants to go after he leaves the sands of las nevadas, the only thing set in his mind is that he can't be here any longer.
he gazes away from his feet to glance at the big las nevadas sign in front of his city, no longer glowing with neon lights like it used to, but something else meets him as he looks up.
"hello, quackity."
a familiar voice rings out. a part of quackity wished that sound would fill him with hatred, but instead, it holds the same comfort it always had. quackity still isn't used to the monotonous quality it has. warmth fills his chest instead, unexpected but welcomed. he hasn't felt this in years.
"slime..."
he mumbles almost incoherently, fixing his tie. he knows he doesn't look presentable, but for slime's sake, he can try. it's a pathetic sight, he's aware. his hands start to tremble from the fact that his partner who he hasn't seen in who knows how long is right infront of him.
the next minutes are a blur, if he's being honest. the expected how are you's come, and of course quackity tells him that he's doing great, and that he wasn't about to kill himself moments earlier.
slime's voice holds such familiarity in quackitys heart that it almost hurts. he hates the realization that he's still as attached as he was before, hates the fact that his eyes start to show a hint of vulnerability as slime continues talking.
"i came here to say goodbye," slime announces, and all of the sudden all that warmth disappears, leaving him the familiar, unwelcome feeling of cold.
great. all the possible reasons to keep on living have just slipped away from his reach. might as well walk back to the casino before he has to witness slime leaving for good.
quackity swallows air before asking, "where are you going?"
he shouldn't feel this much dread all over. he should be happy for slime, happy that he's able to move past everything behind. that's how it was supposed to end, anyway, right? everyone is happy and quackity is left all alone. he should be used to it by now.
he wants to go seeing, huh? that sounds fun. it's a big world out there. there's so much to learn for slime, he has no more purpose to stay here. quackity understands, he should.
slime finally greets him a goodbye, and turns around, leaving everything behind. a part of quackity wants to follow slime, but he's aware of the fact that he can't bring himself to leave las nevadas, that he'd rather blow himself up with it rather than leave the comfort of his country.
he knows he shouldn't ask for something so selfish. the words try to escape his throat, the footsteps of slime walking away only amplifying the feeling.
it sets into his bones that slime, the one person that truly made him feel human, his one excuse to keep going, the only reason why he didn't push that lever, is actually leaving.
the idea of that makes him want to go back to that casino again. he hates it, the feeling makes him sick, but he tries to shove it down.
it's for the better, right? he knows that slime would be happier after leaving, he knows that they're both better off without the other, he knows that it'll only hurt more to prevent the inevitable from happening, but he can't- he has to-
"slime, wait!"
slime stops in his tracks, turning to the side in the slightest.
"please don't go. stay for atleast one night."
he know rejection awaits for him, why would slime want to do that? why would slime want to be anywhere near the person that hurt him the most?
slime hesitates slightly. despite that, quackity was the person that loved him the most as well. issues got in the way, he knows.
he still has centuries worth of time for all the days he want to explore. one day with quackity wouldn't change anything.
"okay," slime responds, turning his face to quackity's. if you squint, theres a small smile forming on his face, this time genuine.
"i'll put you a bed up in the needle." quackity tells the other, and a sense of hope fills his heart, even for just a moment.
they have a lot to catch up on.
______
slime has to never find out what quackity has been planning these days. he's not sure how long he can keep up with the facade that he's been doing well, slime has already noticed the exhaustion that follows him around, not just physically but mentally. he can already sense the fire burning out.
dread fills his chest. slime can't find out about the tnt or the lever or thoughts that manifest him. he can't. quackity just has to hide it for only one day, that's all it takes. he can do that. all he has to do is to make slime feel welcome, avoid him from going to the casino, and to never display any signs of that.
the last one is hard to do, quackity thinks. slime can read him like a book.
don't mind that, maybe his poker face improved. all he has to do is keep up a facade for one day, and when slime leaves him behind, the casino's explosives will wait for him.
the door opens, revealing slime behind it, emotionless and unreadable. "i brought food just like i told you i would. let's eat."
_____
slime watches as quackity eats the sad excuse of bread, asking all about slime's life for all the years they need catching up on. occasionally, he takes a bite as well, despite not feeling that urge to consume yet.
while he was out, he looked at the rebuilt country that is las nevadas. it's still the same, except for the fact that it was repaired from all the explosions from the last time he was here.
nothing here has changed. no new buildings, no new roads, no new posters. nothing is new. nothing except the casino. slime tries not to think about it.
quackity hasn't changed either. still the same face, same outfit, same person, just... duller.
he's leaning on the headboard, sitting on the bed next to quackity's. he still placed slime's bed beside his, despite everything. his partner is on the other side, only inches away, but not enough for them to touch.
quackitys gaze wonders everywhere. the view of the night sky, the bookshelfs, the floor, the plate of unfinished food, but never at him. its like he's doing that on purpose, that he doesn't want to see him.
slime doesn't understand that. quackity asked him to stay. why doesn't he want to even at him? there's still so much for him to learn, it seems.
there is so much of humanity that he doesn't get. everything is still so complicated for him.
maybe that's why he's leaving for good, right? so that he'll see more of everything. he knows that he has centuries of time for him to do that, to acquire all that knowledge.
yet, a part of him feels that void in his chest, just thinking about it. about leaving quackity for good. it's like a part of his goop is stuck here, unwilling to go. he shouldn't feel that way. it's better for the both of them.
slime turns his head to quackity again, same old. there's something off about him. he can't point it out exactly yet, not now. he doesn't have the right to ask quackity anything about it anymore, he lost it the moment he pushed him off that ledge.
they used to be... closer. it's so awkward now.
"quackity," slime calls out quietly, acknowledging the moonlight dusted on the other's face. "are you happy that i'm leaving?"
quackity freezes, swallowing the food in his mouth. he starts looking around room again, before focusing on the clock near the elevator, 8:12pm. it takes seven seconds for him to reply, charlie counted in his head.
one... two... three... four... five... six... seven...
"i'm happy that you're travelling the world. it sounds exciting." he replies, yet he's all tired and drained, just as he pointed out a few hours ago. it's all a front, he isn't that gullble anymore. charlie blinks before looking away, gazing at the moon instead.
can't they go back to how they used to?
___
"slime," quackity starts off, tapping on his own leg. "did you miss me?"
everything was ripped away. slime was aware from the start that he could never have something forever, there is no such thing. however, it felt as if all the chances he had with quackity was stolen away. one moment, he wished for quackity to come back unharmed, and the next, he's holding a sharp blade to quackity's chest.
ignorance was bliss.
he missed the naivety and the optimism and the curiousity. now, a part of him is afraid that he has learned too much.
not enough, he thinks. there's so much out there for him, he can't let it go to waste. a part of him hesitates.
to go out there to explore meant leaving las nevadas for good. it meant leaving something behind. isn't that good? quackity taught him that. he taught him... everything. not just from lessons over the weeks, but from experience.
he tries to make himself believe it, but the lessons never taught him much about emotion like love and trust. every part of it was logical. emotion isn't that, it's the opposite. it is unreasonable and nonsensical, but such part of it was so human. emotion and feelings was what taught him how to be human. quackity from las nevadas showed him that.
there used to be so much warmth. slime can't tell if it's because they're here on top of the needle during winter, but it feels so, so cold.
slime tries to come closer.
"it's been a while."
quackity is aware of slime's perspective on time. a few years of knowing each other mean nothing compared to all the millenniums slime has been in. a few months of actually being together is nothing but a few specks of dust in the vast universe.
but there was so much change, it might've been significant. slime is different, almost unrecognizable, but he's still charlie.
quackity is still the same. still the same terrible, selfish person he was when he met slime for the first time.
quackity gazes at slime's green eyes. he's done it so often before he might as well be able to name every possible hue in it by it hex code. lit by the warm light of the night light, enriched by the rays of sun like a spotlight, everywhere, always. he never realized how much he missed something as simple as that.
he wonders if he could repair their relationship if he chose to. he can't. he won't. slime is leaving, and the dynamite is there by the casino. it's already too late for any of that.
yet, he cant help but draw nearer to the others presence. it's already pulling him in.
"because i missed you," quackity admits quietly, almost shamefully, like the words should have never came out of his mouth.
"i thought about you a lot."
the atmosphere is quiet again, nothing but the sound of their slow breathing and the gentle sigh of wind by the window. it's intimate, similar to the nights they used to have together. can they have one more?
charlie edges closer to quackity, their hands grazing each other. he feels like the key might finally click after so much trial.
"i think about you," slime whispers breathlessly before slowly leaning for a kiss against the others cheek, and there's a pause in quackity's demeanor. the man freezes before subconsciously leaning in as well. slime finds this as an opportunity, leaving another one much more intimate than the last one, a kiss on the corner of his mouth.
there is no more hesitating.
quackity's grip tightens on the sheets before gathering the courage to even react to it, giving a shaky smile.
slime blinks, thinking of what to say. it feels close to the more innocent love they had once.
"was that okay?" slime asks, pulling quackity closer without even realizing. "are you-"
quackity leans in closer, locking charlies lips into a gentle kiss as he places a hand on his cheek.
he feels warm again.
_____
"slime- i'm sorry. i'm sorry." quackity interrupts as he pulls away, turning his face to avoid his stare, the feeling of slime's lips still lingering on his. guilt consumes every part of him, nausea forming in his chest.
he's so selfish. he can't have this. this moment was so perfect, too perfect for him actually. slime is perfect. he is good, he is kind, he is beautiful, he is everything that quackity has lost. someone quackity can't have.
"you shouldn't- you can't want me, slime."
he feels disgusting, like he's taking advantage of slime's affection. suddenly, he has the urge to run away, to take what he deserves, to isolate himself, and to keep slime away from more harm: quackity himself.
but slime's gaze filled with concern just pulls him closer, keeps him within arm's reach of the other.
"not like this," he covers his face away from the world's view, burrowing his fingers into his hair. "not when you're going to leave."
the sound of heavy breathing echoes in the room, as slime just stays quiet, so unlike what he's used to from before.
"okay." slime simply agrees, a hint of what would be disappointment in his tone, as he turns to sit on the side of the bed.
they're back to square one again.
quackity hasn't been sleeping well. not atleast since the the last few months, apparently. every night he tosses and turns, and when he does succeed, he's just greeted with more nightmares from his past.
he's so tired. not even just mentally anymore. slime was right.
he stares at the ceiling for what feels like hours, listening to slime turn a page of some history book next to him. he clenches and unclenches his fist before sitting up and fixing his hair.
he thinks about the explosives in that building. it felt like such a coincidence that slime just somehow showed up the moment he decided to walk out of las nevadas, like he was already waiting for quackity to do just that.
he wonders what slime wouldve thought if he didnt snap out. if he just pulled the lever right there and then, making the grand attraction explode for everything to see.
but there was nothing there to see anything that will be destroyed anymore. only slime.
slime was his everything at some point. not any longer, he knows.
"im going to head out, i need fresh air." quackity announces quietly, just enough for the man next to him to hear.
slime questions this in his head. theyre on top of the needle. there's a balcony surrounding them, and quackity used to love hanging out there. maybe its too cold? no, quackity is already used to that.
"where are you going?"
"the casino," he replies, simple as that. "something has been bugging me."
he walks towards the elevator, all clumsy and disconnected. he's in that daze again, like he's on autopilot.
"to check, what? the explosives?"
he freezes.
no, that can't be right, he made sure that the doors were locked, made sure no one could go in, or see what's inside-
slime still has the key to it. shit.
why would he go there? is he ruining his plans?
"...what?"
"don't act like you don't know."
quackity's throat starts to tighten. his legs go weak, his hand starts to shake. hes been found out. the facade is useless. it's all crumbling down.
can't he have one thing?
"its not what it looks like-"
he is not failing this plan, he isn't going to give it up. he'll do it right now if he has to, if it meant having his way out, having control over something.
he can't control slime from leaving. he can control himself, however. let him have this.
"what about leaving behind a legacy?"
his heartbeat quickens. he swallows the tension down. he can have control over this.
"slime, don't mention that."
"you taught me that, right? about leaving behind? what about our-"
"it's not ours anymore if you're just going to walk out!" quackity blurts out, a sob spilling over. his voice trembles in a panic. the mask drops to the floor.
"it doesn't matter, anymore, slime- it hasn't mattered anymore for months. i've built this country from the ground, rebuilt it over and over, trying to convince myself that all of it is gonna be worth it in the end-"
slime tenses, clenching his fist around nothing.
"-and i still feel empty. i did all of that and i'm still... unsatisfied. none of it mattered." quackity sits back on the soft bed, staring at the elevator door. suddenly his partner's gaze pricking at his skin, leaving the well-ventilated skyscraper feeling tight and claustrophobic.
he needs to leave. he needs to stay.
he doesn't know what he needs. always searching, but never reaching true content.
human greed is insatiable. that's another thing he learnt.
he needs slime to stay, wants to beg him to stay for one more day, ask for one last chance.
but most of all, he wants slime to be free. to be happy.
"quackity, that's not what i'm saying-"
"then what are you trying to say? you're going to leave anyway, why would it matter what happens to me when you're gone?"
this time, slime can't think of anything else to say, because he is right. logically, it shouldn't matter to slime of what happens to quackity after he leaves, as he won't ever see him again, or even hear about him once he disappears from the sands of las nevadas.
but the tree falling creates a sound despite having no audience, after all. to the dust, to the stars, and to everything else, it will be heard, even if they're technically not living.
"it wouldn't..." quackity starts to step forward slowly, making the other think that he's coming closer, only to realize that he's walking further away, the steps making a loud echo across the needle.
quackity edges closer to the balcony, the railing in arms-reach. he gazes down below, to the unmoving city. it's so empty— it always was, but now that he's paying attention, it finally sets into his mind. perhaps he was simply too distracted to notice, but las nevadas was always dead and ghostly. even when it had a population of five back then, it felt as nothing changed, even after the population changed back to one.
he's leaning towards the railing now, placing his weight against his elbows, like a stance of defeat in his composure. "it doesn't matter anymore. it never did."
it would be so easy. an easy jump. knowing him, he'd pass out before he'd even hit the ground. suddenly, he's lost all control over his body once more.
slime watches in horror as quackity contemplates, too afraid to move closer, as if it would kill him, yet too aware to be ignorant of the fact that he can't be waiting for longer.
quackity's hands grip tighter to the ice-cold railing, feeling numb. he motions to raise his leg, ready to balance on the ledge, when suddenly, fingers wrap around his wrist tightly, and it won't budge.
his face feels wet now. he was too panicked to even realize that he was tearing up, but now all he can hear are his sobs. it's a pathetic sight, being like this infront of slime. he fails at everything he does, and he can no longer cover it up, no matter how many cities he'll create or how much money he'll earn, he's hopeless. he can't even hide the fact that he's on his breaking point to slime for a single day.
"quackity from las nevadas," slime utters, along with his monotonous tone that hides everything now. his hand doesn't move in the slightest, staying put, not allowing any movement, "you're being stupid."
he can still read through his empty expression, despite everything. he still knows him. he knows deep down, there's that slightest bit of concern; if he's being generous. if anything, that's the look of pity.
"i know." he assures, his whisper shaky. he keeps his gaze below the balcony, finding something— anything to distract him from this. from him.
las nevadas is a quiet, empty city. no longer are the lights along the roads painfully bright, as they now remain unlit as they have been for months.
he feels slime let go from his wrists, and his hands finally have the freedom to shake, but before he gets any time to process it, the tight sensation from his wrists are replaced with the gentle embrace that wrap around his body, leaving him no choice but to lean into him.
he tries not to let it linger long enough for it to be comfortable. he closes his eyes, muffling his sobs, praying that he can commit this feeling to memory, and forget all the moments that led up to this.
___
quackity wakes up with warmth wrapped around him, nothing like the cold covers that held him every night. it's comforting, and not-empty, but like everything good that happens in life, slime will walk away eventually. a night ending with holding each other won't change the outcome.
he promised slime one last night. he isn't going to take freedom away from him like he would've if he still was who he was years ago.
he feels slime shift in his sleep — or the closest it could be for someone that can't do that. he wonders how much of slime is truly non-human, like the inability to sleep or the artificial body heat that comes with pretending.
he wonders how much of himself is still human.
there won't be much left, or any, once slime leaves.
___
"i guess this is it, then?" quackity asks, mustering all of the lightheartedness he could in his tone.
it was always inevitable, he knew. it's like it was written in the books of destiny to end his relationships with a goodbye, but doesn't all relationships end that way?
maybe this is the best he can get, better than a push off the balcony or a sudden farewell covered up with fake enthusiasm. it wouldn't be possible for quackity to get more than this. he's okay with it now.
slime looks back at quackity, content in his eyes. there no longer is a crumb of longing or regret in his decision, just a sense of fulfillment, an act of moving on, turning the page.
"goodbye, quackity from las nevadas," slime accepts, and this time there is no option laid infront of him to run to him, or to beg him to stay. quackity stands in the sandy roads of las nevadas with certainty now, no longer with the voice that begs for slime.
but before he is able to bid him farewell, he walks over to him, with no urgency this time, leaving a gentle kiss on his lips before pulling away. for good.
for a moment he sees slime smile.
"goodbye, charlie." quackity smiles back, letting slime go.
it ends like this— perhaps the same thing occurs to all the other possible endings out there: slime turns away once more, quackity watches his back grow farther, he doesn't yell for him to come back, and slowly the body disappears from his view.
he expected himself to start sobbing the moment he believed slime could no longer hear him, he almost wanted to. like crying would ever be proof that there would be a chance of the ending changing, or atleast hope.
but there isn't. all he can do is smile, maybe sigh. but other than that, there is nothing but finality.
quackity stands there for a few minutes, staring at where slime's figure used to be, watching as the sun starts to set, before quackity looks back to the casino.