Chapter Text
It was a sunny afternoon when Quackity decided that he was due for a visit to the Polish Cave. He had been dilly-dallying with the rest of the island for quite a while and he started missing the place, even though more often than not it was much less lively than the other nations and factions. But in a strange way it felt…homely. Even with the life-threatening reactor right beneath the surface, its hum a faint promise of obliteration if not handled by Multi's careful, dedicated hands.
The sun was shining, the warm hue of the late hour bathing everything in a soft, golden light, the water reflecting the purples, oranges and soft pinks of the sky. The clouds were lazily dragging across the firmament, the horizon slowly but surely turning darker as the crescent moon began creeping up from the East.
Quackity was bathing in the gentle sunlight, happy the heat of the day already began dissipating over the ground. A soft wind picked up, kissing his sun-warmed cheeks and coursing through his soft hair and the feathers of both his wings and earwings. The pleasant breeze blowing from the river and the fresh air of the mountains made the air all the better when Quackity began nearing the characteristic, skull-shaped maw of the Polish Cave.
He glided down and landed softly on the pier when he started hearing loud, frantic shouting from inside the cave and the sounds of chaotic rummaging and items being thrown around carelessly. He could swear that as he was inching closer to the entrance, he saw a few things fly through the air and hit the rocks with a loud clutter, making Quackity's hair stand on edge and his earwings curl inwards to protect his hearing.
What the hell was happening?
As he trotted forwards, he caught a faint glimpse of Nexe’s tail and right as Quackity stepped foot on the stone floor, a terrifying, pained yell reverberated through the whole cave.
The scene was no less than worrying.
Graf and Ewron were tightly squeezing each of Multi's arms in theirs, the scientist hanging between them like a ragdoll by the elbows, and they were dragging him towards the beds while Multi was struggling with as much opposition as he could muster. Nexe was standing by the sorting station, throwing things around in a panic, mumbling to himself and ever so often letting out the occasional curse word. Graf's face was tense and the feathers of his wings were puffed up, giving away the distress of their owner, but he was definitely the head of the operation with how Ewron and Nexe would both glance at him with lost eyes.
“Kurwa, debilu, do cienia z nim!” Graf yelled and covered Multi with his wing when Multi suddenly let out yet another yell, his head bobbing left and right, drool and thick, dark red (in truth almost black) goo Quackity assumed was blood spilling from his mouth. The scientist's hands were seemingly put into mittens and tightly bound, restricting any movement in his hands.
“Dobra, dobra, nie wrzeszcz po mnie, człowieku, robię przecież co mogę kurwa! Nexe, zjebie, pospiesz się!”
“Jezus Maria, staram się, czaisz!? Już szybciej nie mogę!” Nexe shrieked in response, the rasp in his voice making it crack towards the end of the accusatory question.
Quackity just walked along the wall, trying to appear as invisible as possible, watching the scene unfold, his eyes blown wide as two coins. What the actual hell was going on?
Ewron and Graf finally managed to get Multi to sit down and the reaction was almost immediate as Multi began thrashing about, trying to rip his arms out of his friends’ tight grips. They were clearly struggling, and Graf almost got headbutted with how much Multi's head was convulsing, his legs flailing and kicking about as if in a fit of blind rage. The growls and groans he let out were no less than animalistic, and Quackity could see that Ewron and Graf were trying to do their best to hold Multi down while avoiding wherever Multi's face would turn towards.
Reminding himself of Multi's claws, Quackity realised that this was probably what the makeshift mittens were for. Multi was trying to hurt them. Even if it seemed he was doing it completely unawarely.
A scream ripped Quackity out of his thoughts and he saw Ewron doubled over, trying and failing to stand straight on his legs and pulling Graf and Multi slightly downwards with himself as he struggled to keep himself upwards.
“Ewron, nie odwalaj!"
"Jebnął mnie w przeponę, co ja miałem to kurde stankować!?”
“Po kiego grzyba ci ta zbroja z uranem skoro od głupiego ciosu tak cię składa!?”
“Nexe, szybciej typie!”
The chaos was so overwhelming that Quackity barely noticed the absolute piles of random things that started accumulating and amassing around Nexe. The fur on his forehead was glistening with sweat, his hands visibly shaky as he was taking more and more stuff out of the Polish Cave's storage.
“Staram się, staram, ale nie umiem tego nigdzie znaleźć, rozumiesz, nie ma tego po prostu!”
“Sprawdzałeś pod ‘b’?” Graf answered, Quackity's eyes jumping between the two like a cat watching a ping-pong ball bounce back and forth.
“Tak! Sprawdzałem pod każdą literą na jaką kurwa mógłbym wpaść i nie ma ich człowieku, rozumiesz!? Nie ma, zero!”
All the while Quackity was trying to make sense of the situation, Multi was growing more restless, groaning and coughing as thick, dark blood splattered onto the ground over which he was suspended. The only thing keeping him from landing face-first onto the cold stone were Graf and Ewron still tightly squeezing him by the arms.
Quackity was frozen in place with shock and confusion, he wasn't sure if he was supposed to run up and help them or whether he was supposed to just stand there and wait for them to finish…whatever this was. Throughout the chaos Quackity couldn't help but feel like there was…routine to this. The mittens, the two stronger Hussars keeping Multi in check while the other was looking for something specific in their storage.
Graf suddenly yelled something fiercely, a strong string of curses if the ‘kurwa!’ was anything to go off of, and wrenched poor Multi's arm so far back that the other yelled loudly and Quackity felt his shoulder ache at the sheer sight.
“Trzymaj go. Byle dobrze,” Graf demanded. Ewron’s face twisted from panic to anger, staring at Graf who clearly wanted Ewron to put Multi's hands behind his back so both of Graf's hands would be free.
“Żartujesz sobie ze mnie człowieku, nie chcesz chyba, żeby ten psychol znowu ci—”
“A masz lepszy pomysł!? Jeśli zaraz czegoś z tym nie zrobimy to któryś z nas i tak skończy ranny!”
There was no answer.
Ewron's lips pressed into a thin line and his ear twitched, eyes fixed on Graf's face and his brows furrowed, but he hesitantly jumped to encase both of Multi's arms in his, holding the scientist still with his whole bodyweight. Graf went to stand in front of Multi and Quackity could faintly hear Nexe yell something in the background, but the sound was damp, like the scene unfolding before Quackity dulled his senses to the point where he didn't register anything apart from what the three Hussars by the bed were doing.
Graf grabbed Multi by the dreads and pulled his head up, tugging harshly so Multi would look Graf in the eyes. There was drool rolling down Multi's chin and gooey blood was slowly trickling from the corner of his lips and from his nose, staining the lower part of his face a deep crimson from being smudged among the commotion. His skin had an unhealthy sheen to it, drowned in sweat that pooled around the straps of the gas mask hanging from his neck, his complexion a sickly (well, more sickly than ever before) gray.
Even in the worst fits of his manic ‘eureka’ phases Multi had never looked this worn down and disheveled before, Quackity could swear Multi was almost bestial.
Awkwardly, Graf rolled up the sleeve of his shirt with his teeth and put it close to Multi's face. As if with the flip of a switch all of Multi's desperate thrashing seized and he slumped a bit, becoming something more akin to when he was being dragged around by the Hussars through the cave, eyes fixed firmly on Graf's arm. There was a yell from Nexe that Quackity understood as ‘Graf, no!’.
“Pij."
Multi’s reaction to Graf’s command was momentary.
Ewron didn't manage to brace himself in time and was dragged forward as Multi lunged, his teeth flashing in the afternoon light before a hiss could be heard from Graf. Nexe ran up to the rest, slowly untied the mittens binding Multi's hands and when the scientist felt his hands and arms be freed as Ewron spotted him by the midsection, he immediately grasped at Graf's arm, lips pressed firmly against the skin, right over the veins.
Deafening silence fell.
They were all breathing heavily, watching Multi intensely, and Quackity was huffing just the same as if he was the one forced to keep the scientist steady even though this whole time he just watched from beside the wall. Graf's earwings would twitch every now and again as grimaces flashed across his face, but he stayed in his place, arm trapped in Multi's mouth.
But then, stepping a bit closer, Quackity noticed that Multi started gradually… changing.
His legs relaxed and Quackity could see Ewron steadily letting go of Multi's back and Graf loosening the grip on his dreads, at some point neither holding him up anymore as Multi started to hold out on his own. His hands, which had earlier clutched at Graf's forearm so desperately were now relaxing, the grip slowly becoming more delicate. His face, earlier disfigured by a deep frown of pain and discomfort, was now smoothed over, his brows even tilting upwards indulgently.
They remained like that for a few long minutes, Ewron sitting behind Multi, presumably in case something went astray, and Nexe standing right beside Graf, assisting. The only movement was when Graf's knees started visibly buckling beneath him and Nexe came in clutch to help his friend keep his balance.
None took notice of the fact that Quackity had been standing there all this time.
Finally, Multi pulled away from Graf's arm with a loud slurp and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his labcoat, not caring whether he was smearing blood all over the white fabric or not. Ewron took off sprinting towards the sorting mechanism surrounded by a plethora of items and Nexe tightly grabbed Graf and guided him to sit down next to Multi. Ewron quickly returned, holding a first aid kit and as Nexe and him were bandaging Graf's arm, Quackity decided now was a good time to announce himself.
As he shuffled closer, he could hear hushed conversations, Multi's face hidden in his hands as he sat doubled over his knees, like he wanted to hide away from the world.
“...szam”
“Wszystko okej. Ale jak mi sprzedasz jakąś radiację albo inny uran przez mieszanie twojej krwi z moją…”
The presumable joke landed flat, only Ewron scoffing lightly while Multi didn't respond and only curled up more, and Graf patted his back a few times reassuringly.
“Nie umrę od tego, nie pierwszy i nie ostatni raz taka akcja”
“Ale w ogóle to do bana z tobą, człowieku, zawsze mówisz że będziemy się zamieniać, a za każdym razem i tak ty idziesz pod zęby”
“Słuchaj, Nexe, obiecuję ci, że mi to nie— oh, Quackity, hello!”
All but Multi turned their faces towards Quackity, who was now standing awkwardly in front of the Hussars’ beds, waving. Nexe and Graf waved back and immediately started playing around the little translators pinned to their clothes while Ewron rushed to hug him.
“Hi, I'm sorry for barging in like that, I didn't mean to see any of that, I swear it was by complete accident”
“Don’t worry about it! It happens, and you're a part of the Polish now, you know, so you can know,” Ewron responded with his broken English, too busy with keeping Quackity in a warm embrace to turn his translator back on.
“Why couldn't I understand you, why were your translators not working?”
“Oh, the first time something like this happened Multi asked us if we can turn off our translators the next time,” Graf began explaining, still rubbing Multi's back encouragingly and softly enveloping him with his wing, “He said people could hear us and find out that he can be made vulnerable, and he doesn't like giving people that knowledge, you know by now how paranoid he gets”
“Ja tu dalej jestem, no nie?” Multi grumbled through his hands, his voice raspy and coarse.
“Oh, I, uh, I'm sorry I invaded then—”
“Dude, you should know by now Multi trusts you more than all of us combined,” Nexe said and made a small circle with his finger, making clear that he was referring to himself and the other two Hussars. A strange silence followed suit after this comment, and the Hussars' faces grew tense for a second as their eyes drifted towards the bandage on Graf's forearm, blood seeping through it from two distinct points.
Quackity could just stare just like the other Hussars, all the puzzle pieces scattered around in his brain slowly falling into place.
When Quackity first saw him, he thought Multi was simply an elf, maybe a dark elf considering his appearance. He wagered on a fae for a while, but Multi exhibited no magical abilities, so this theory was scrapped rather quickly.
But unlike with the fae one, the diagnosis of an elf matched up almost perfectly: the pointy (although a touch small for an elf) ears, the pale complexion, the fierce eyes, his introverted personality and his very small, tight social circle. How he'd spend all his days in his lair –his lab– far away from everybody else, working on something only he on the whole island could understand, how incredibly difficult it was to earn his trust. His patience and incredible knowledge.
But right now it seemed like Quackity's earlier suspicions were entirely disproven. Because no living elf would drink the blood of another.
“Come, sit down, you wanna talk for a bit?” Graf shuffled a bit on the bed to make space for Quackity and he sat down hesitantly, his and Graf’s wings bumping into one another lightly as they tried to find a comfortable position. Ewron and Nexe sat down on the floor in front of the rest, Ewron’s head dropping onto Nexe’s shoulder.
“So, what's up? What brought you here?” Nexe asked.
“Well, I haven’t seen you guys or the cave in a while since I was busy and all, and I thought I’d come and pay you guys a visit. But it seems that I came at a—”
“I’m sorry, Quackity. Multi, are you alive, buddy?” Graf interrupted. All of their eyes now rested on Multi, who was, indeed, looking like he was fighting back a violent coughing fit.
Then he coughed, once, twice, blood splattering onto the hands covering his mouth, droplets scattering from the impact as Multi shook. Graf took the chance and switched Multi’s translator back on and grabbed him by the dreadlocks once again, pulling his head back and forcing his back to be straight.
Multi’s face was still smeared with blood, whether at that point it was Graf’s or his own didn’t matter anymore, and he breathed heavily, sharp, wheezing sounds that escaped his mouth whenever he inhaled. Nexe mumbled something along the lines ‘I’ll get something sweet’ when Graf’s grip on Multi’s hair loosened and the avian himself started wobbling as he sat.
“Quacks, can you grab him?”
“Me?"
"The blood loss’s catching up to me, I can’t hold him up for long”. And as if on command, Graf slumped forwards, his hand slipping from Multi’s head and Ewron caught him just before Graf’s face could hit the floor. Quackity, in a panicked reflex, threw himself across the bed to Multi’s other side, getting hit by Graf’s wing in the process, and firmly grabbed Multi by the waist to keep him upwards.
They shuffled around a bit and soon Graf was just sitting and breathing, leaned against Ewron so he wouldn’t lose his balance, and Multi sat with his back supported by Quackity’s arm while Quackity's other hand gently held him by the dreadlocks at the back of Multi’s head, clearing his airway.
With their proximity Quackity felt how freezing cold Multi was despite the earlier sweat still shining on his skin. He always knew that Multi generally ran super cold, abnormally even, but this low of a temperature was worrying even for him. Multi’s lips were blue, like he was not getting enough air in, although the colour was slowly coming back, even if it still wasn’t quite like one of a regular person.
The sun began setting when Nexe returned with a few packs of gummies and a sizable bar of chocolate along with a large bottle of fruit juice. He apologised for the lack of cups and they shared the snacks, Nexe and Ewron force-feeding Graf a borderline larger amount of chocolate than anybody should eat in such a short period of time. Graf even began protesting, saying that he would get cavities or that he would die from over-sweetening himself, but the other two insisted.
When the evening rolled around and the sun already dipped below the horizon, Graf was already rejuvenated and back on his feet, though Nexe followed him closely behind everywhere in case he was still feeling unwell. Ewron left, saying Katie was waiting for him since they were supposed to hang out together in the evening. And so, as Graf and Nexe returned to their own devices and Ewron left, Quackity was left alone with Multi.
“You know you can let go now, right?"
Quackity jumped away, letting go of Multi’s hair as if suddenly it began burning like living fire. Multi rolled his head and his neck cracked loudly, and when he turned back to Quackity he finally looked more like himself. His skin still had a greenish, ashy tint, his eye bags were more prominent than before and his mouth was still dirty with drying blood, but he looked better than when Quackity arrived.
"What?”
“What ‘what’?"
"You’re staring at me”
“Oh! Uh, sorry, I was just checking if you look, you know," Quackity shrugged nervously, turning his gaze towards Graf and Nexe who were scrambling to pick up and sort out all the things laying around the cave after Nexe’s previous searching, “normal"
"Normal for me, yes. Normal for you, I doubt I’ll ever be”
“You are normal to me,” Quackity tried to reassure, more of a reflex than anything. Out of everybody on the island, Multi was perhaps the absolute last person that needed external validation and to be called ‘normal’. This was proven correct by Multi’s amused scoff.
"Close enough, I guess,” Multi got up and stretched, putting his hands in his pockets as he started strolling towards Graf and Nexe, Quackity following him suit. "Graf”
“Hm?"
There was a click, signifying Multi’s translator was off. Quackity wanted to roll his eyes, but decided that if it was for the better of his friend he could withstand not understanding what was going on for a few minutes. If having Quackity excluded from Multi’s conversation gave him closure, Quackity was fine with knowing only one half of the conversation.
"Dziękuję i…przepraszam”
“Don’t thank me, I already told you, it’s fine,” Graf swung his hand dismissively, picking up the stacks of planks from the floor one by one to drag them to the storage chute. Quackity took note of how Graf talked as if he was retelling everything Multi was saying and he made a quick note to thank Graf for this later. "I was prepared something like this may happen, it’s been a while since we refilled and it was our fault we didn’t remember about it earlier”
“Utoczyłem ci prawe pół litra krwi, Graf. Nie mogę ci czegoś takiego robić raz na miesiąc, bo dostaniesz anemii albo niedokrwistości. Albo dostaniesz kiedyś wstrząsu hipowolemiczego, a ja nie będę w sta—”
“Multi,” Graf stopped everything he was doing, dropped the planks he was holding on a pile on the ground and firmly put both of his hands on Multi’s shoulders, "I’m fine. Losing around half a liter won’t hurt me long-term, I’m not going to go into shock, I’m not anaemic, everything is fine. I’d rather have a little less blood for a while than you killed like a common zombie”
"Jesteś tego pewien?”
“I am absolutely sure. Birds of a feather flock together, yeah?". Multi scoffed and put one of his hands on Graf’s, drumming his fingers against the avian’s knuckles.
"Ta, pewnie”
“Do you guys need help sorting everything out?" Quackity cut in and asked, loosely pointing at the mess around them with a swing of his arm. “Graf, maybe you should sit down, me and Nexe can handle it—”
“Oh, I’m feeling quite alright now, don’t worry about me”
“Naprawdę się dobrze trzymasz czy udajesz? Zaraz zrobię ci tabletki na żelazo—”
“Multi, translator,” Graf interrupted and scolded him sternly, his head giving a short tilt pointedly to gesture towards Quackity, who was still standing between them. Multi rolled his eyes and groaned, but with a small ‘click!’ turned the small device back on. Graf nodded approvingly, returning to the cleanup and helping Nexe, “Since you wanted to come and hang out, you’re more than welcome to stay and chat, even if you’re not really up for cleaning up our mess”
“Oh! No, it’s fine, I’ll gladly help, and Multi will—”
Quackity turned around to confirm that his friend was also willing to help with the mess he indirectly made, but all he saw was a flash of Multi’s blood-and-chemicals-stained labcoat near the Polski Cave waystone before he disappeared in a cloud of purple particles. Quackity just stared at the empty space, almost completely bewildered, but when he looked back at Graf and Nexe, it looked like they weren’t phased at all.
Shaking off the initial surprise, Quackity rushed to help Graf pick up planks and carry them to Nexe, who was grabbing things closer to the storage chute and sorting everything carefully. This whole time Quackity kept quiet, although questions swarmed his mind, demanding answers.
Graf noticed this rather quickly with the way Quackity’s eyes would drift towards the waypoint and he was swift to point it out.
“Don’t worry about him. He always gets pretty upset every time this happens, especially if it’s in these rather than more peaceful circumstances”
“I’m more, like— pissed for you that he didn’t stay around to help,” Quackity confessed, grabbing a log from the ground. Graf shrugged.
“He’s not much help when he’s sulking anyway. He’s better off in his lab doing actual work than pretending to be useful up here. And hey, Ewron’s gone too, so I guess that’s just how it goes”
“How long until it happens again?”. Graf shrugged again, as much of a shrug as the gigantic bundle of sticks in his arms allowed him anyway.
“Who knows. Maybe as long as a month or even more, maybe as short as two or three weeks. We haven’t really figured that out yet,” Graf dropped the sticks next to Nexe, a cloud of rock dust and mites exploding into the air and causing Nexe to cough loudly. Quackity dropped off the log he was dragging on the ground there as well, careful to not create any more dust clouds. Graf raised his brow as he looked at Quackity with his arms crossed on his chest, “What, are you game to help us handle him?”
“Whoa, I— maybe? I don’t– you know– uh-hum…” Quackity stuttered, his arms and earwings gesturing wildly so he’d have somewhere to let out all of the energy. Then he asked himself the question: would he?
Helping out would earn him more of the trust of not only the Polish Cave, but the trust of Multi as well. From Multi’s reaction, to him the whole blood-drinking ordeal must’ve been a pretty sensitive topic, unlike to the rest of the Hussars. It looked like to them it was no different than perhaps making sure their friend takes medication on time. Casual, no big deal, even if apparently it required a sacrifice from them.
And in truth, Quackity would’ve loved to know a bit more about Multi with how many unexplained matters were left out in the open.
“Actually, if you guys don’t mind, I think I would be pretty happy to help”