Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

schlatt stands at the podium and smiles at the crowd. quackity is next to him, grinning. there’s a rush of emotions swirling inside him and he knows damn well that wilbur will never accept this. he’s been friends with wilbur for a long time, and he can already see revolution spawning in his old friend’s eyes. he knows that tommy is too far gone in support of wilbur to be allowed to stay, but tubbo is not, and tubbo can be used against them.

so he banishes wilbur and tommy. just like that. he orders tubbo to chase after them knowing that tubbo will let them go, and after a long time and a lot of handshakes and important people telling him they knew he would win, he finds himself with his cabinet in their meeting room in the dead of night. they all look exhausted, and some of them look less-than pleased to be there, but they’re all there.

“so,” schlatt says. “let’s get to work.”

quackity’s tie is hanging around his neck. fundy looks like he’s about to fall asleep. tubbo looks scared, and angry, and tired. schlatt remembers with a jolt that all three of them are practically kids. george, who is not a kid, who has been through war before and will go through war again, is standing rimrod straight in one corner of the room.

“maybe we start work in the morning?” quackity suggests meekly. fundy groans in agreement. damn, they’re unprofessional, but he just keeps reminding himself that they’re kids, they’re kids-

“yeah,” he says. “good idea, quackity, thank you. i want you all here bright and early, and the first order of business will be a coffee machine in the meeting room.”

tubbo is the first to leave, practically bolting to his room. he and fundy already have rooms in the white house, so this isn’t a change for them, this is fine. fundy trudges off, looking vaguely miserable. quackity glances back and forth between him and the door.

“so i just take tommy’s room?” he asks.

“you’re the v.p.,” schlatt says with a shrug. “just move his stuff out. or leave it. i don’t care.”

“what about george?” quackity glances toward the man in question, who raises one eyebrow in response.

“i’m going home,” george says. “i’ll be back tomorrow, mister president.”

schlatt grins at the title. he could get used to that.

he tosses wilbur’s stuff into the hallway- someone else will take care of it- and crashes into the president’s bed. damn, this is a life of luxury he could get used to.

he knows how government works. he knows in the morning there’ll be paperwork and policies and dealing with a country that just went through major political upheaval. but that’s a tomorrow problem- right now he’s going to sleep in this luxurious bed.

he wakes up at the ass-crack of dawn and makes himself look presentable, coming up with a list of things to do in his head. the first order of business is trudging down to the meeting room and being pleasantly surprised to find a coffee maker already there.

“i had a spare laying around,” fundy says with a shrug, sitting at the table. schlatt looks at him judgmentally, trying to figure him out. fundy just stares back.

“i know you were probably loyal to your dad-” schlatt starts.

“save it,” fundy snaps. “i’m loyal to the president. that’s you.”

and now that- that is good to hear. schlatt grins at the fox hybrid.

“excellent,” he says. “i trust you can handle yourself?”

“of course i can,” fundy snorts, and that’s his first indication that fundy most definitely cannot handle himself. he’s a kid that’s angry at his father and he’s willing to do anything to prove it. but that’s an issue schlatt can address later, when fundy inevitably burns himself out. right now, he has more pressing matters to attend to.

“quackity, my good man!” schlatt calls as quackity makes his way into the room, looking exhausted. “how’d you sleep?”

“like shit,” quackity says dryly. “you’re sure about this whole exile thing?”

“are you questioning me?” schlatt asks, eyes narrowed. quackity shakes his head quickly. “good. i need you and george to set up a meeting with eret, yeah? talk about expanding this country of ours.”

“yes, sir,” quackity says quietly. george slips into the room on the tail-end of the conversation, looking completely presentable and mostly bored. quackity gestures quickly and the two leave just as tubbo enters.

“tubbster!” schlatt cries. “we need to get you a suit, man, can’t have you walking around looking like you just rolled out of a revolution!”

fundy snorts. good, an appropriate level of laughter. he’s not trying too hard to get into schlatt’s good books.

“okay, schlatt,” tubbo says quietly, face pale. “um- sorry, mister president. mister schlatt? president schlatt?”

“schlatt is fine,” he says, waving a hand. “fundy, give us a minute, will you?”

fundy salutes lazily and strolls out of the room, cup of coffee in hand. schlatt gestures for tubbo to sit down and makes his way over to the coffee machine.

“you like coffee, kid?” he asks. tubbo shakes his head. “that’s fine, i’ll just make myself a second cup. listen, and i’m gonna be serious here for a second-”

he grabs a second cup of coffee and sits down across from tubbo. the kid looks terrified, but something about him is familiar. some primal instinct in schlatt is telling him to take care of this kid, to take away whatever it is that’s freaking him out, eliminate the threat. he shoves it aside.

“i know you’re good friends with tommy,” he says. “and i know you’re real loyal to wilbur.”

tubbo looks even more terrified. schlatt allows it to sit for a moment- he can’t have his staff getting too comfortable, not when wilbur could come back and start a revolution at any second.

“but you gotta trust me when i say that i don’t care,” schlatt says eventually. tubbo’s fear morphs into confusion. “you can go visit them all you want. they’re only exiled from l’manberg, is all. it’s not like i’m putting out a manhunt for their heads on a stick. as long as they don’t step foot here, i don’t care what they do. and-” 

he lets out a hearty laugh. “it’s not like i’m banning you from leaving. you’re your own person, you’re allowed to do whatever you want! i just want my cabinet to be happy, tubbo, and if that means you go see your friends, it means you go see your friends. all i ask is that you don’t- i dunno, betray me or something, start letting state secrets loose. you feel me?”

“i- yeah,” tubbo says, looking slightly shocked. “you mean- you really don’t mind if i visit tommy?”

“not at all,” schlatt says with a shrug. “hell, the only reason i exiled tommy is because i know wilbur’s got him good and brainwashed. trust me, kid, wilbur and i go way back from some different worlds, and the only thing stopping him from starting up a rebellion against his own government is the fact that he cares too much about his little brother to do it.”

“you think he’s got tommy brainwashed?” tubbo asks.

“they’re brothers,” schlatt shrugs. “i wouldn’t put it past him.”

“i’m their brother, too,” tubbo mutters, and that- that’s news to schlatt, actually, he knew phil had an adopted kid but he’d always assumed the adopted kid was technoblade. “adopted, but- why don’t you think he’s brainwashed me?”

“because you didn’t start yelling at me the second i said brainwashed,” schlatt points out. if tubbo is adopted- the kid would be sixteen right around now, yeah? his horns would start growing in soon, and- holy shit, of course it would’ve been phil to take him in, and-

focus on the problem at hand, schlatt, he tells himself. worry about a possible child later.

“oh,” tubbo says quietly. “okay. well- is there anything you’d like me to do today? to get started, i mean?”

damn. he really did not expect the kid to take all of this that well. he smiles at tubbo, gets up and walks around the table, ruffles his hair. tubbo tenses up a little, but seems to brush it off easily.

“hopefully a meeting with king eret, if quackity and george pull their strings right,” schlatt says. “i’d like you to be there, of course, you’re my secretary of state! that’s foreign affair stuff, right?”

“not exactly,” tubbo mutters meekly. “under wilbur i was just kind of- kind of his secretary.”

schlatt huffs. of course he was. he’s heard of this kid, he knows he’s skilled, of course wilbur would brush that aside-

“well, i assume you know l’manberg better than anyone. when it comes to the state, that’s your job, bud. i’ll stick george on foreign affairs.”

“okay,” tubbo says, looking excited. “i actually had a few ideas, i was thinking i could talk to niki about implementing some new shops, and-”

he cuts himself off, glancing down. schlatt is standing in the doorway, about to leave, he thought tubbo was going to follow but clearly the kid thinks it means something else. “sorry,” he starts. “i-”

“no, no,” schlatt says, waving a hand. “come on, talk to me while we walk. we’ve got a busy day, i want to hear your ideas.”

tubbo talks excitedly about ideas he’s had for a while, and schlatt listens to all of them. yeah, he thinks, this is a good start.

Chapter Text

george manages to secure him a meeting with eret for later that afternoon. schlatt knows damn well that eret doesn’t have any real power, but dream is still nowhere to be found. not even george knows where he’s gone. eret’s the second best thing.

besides, dream being gone only means there isn’t anything standing in schlatt’s way. he doesn’t give a fuck that technoblade just popped up to take wilbur’s side, because techno doesn’t actually care about anything. even if he’s here to help wilbur, it’ll be just as easy to get him on their side. it’s a situation that can easily be dealt with later.

before the meeting, he drags tubbo, quackity, and fundy to the nearest tailor to get them all suits. he pays for it, even though they all insist that they’re perfectly capable of doing it themselves. quackity thrives in the suit, looking professional as ever, and he beams as he slides his shades over his eyes. fundy acts like he’s never worn a suit before, and schlatt has to remind himself that in this world, at least, fundy has literally never known anything other than war. tubbo looks less comfortable than the fox hybrid, though maybe it’s the fact that schlatt makes a joke about burning the l’manberg uniform.

l’manberg. it’s too long. it’s too... well, he’s schlatt. he doesn’t take l’s.

manberg. now that- that sounds better.

george comes with them to the tailor, but he refuses to even try on a suit, one eyebrow raised above his goggles. schlatt doesn’t push it. he may be powerful, but he knows about error 404s and code entities. he’s not going to try his luck.

“tubbo,” he says while fundy is getting the final adjustments on his suit. george is typing rapidly into his communicator, quackity is yelling something excitedly at the tailor, both completely ignoring their conversation. “who in manberg is going to be trying to take me down?”

tubbo looks at him oddly. “you mean… you mean l’ manberg?”

“i think i’m going to change the name. we don’t take l’s here. what do you think?”

“um. if it’s what you like, mister president- schlatt. and- niki, probably. she’s not very happy that you exiled wilbur and tommy.”

niki. so at some point after they visit eret, they’ll go see niki. he makes a mental note of it and moves on.

“and fundy? he ran against us.”

tubbo shrugs. “he’s wilbur’s son, but wilbur’s… i mean. i don’t want to speak badly of wilbur, but he always put more energy into taking care of tommy.”

schlatt can see how uncomfortable tubbo looks. a combination of the suit and talking shit about his friend- brother , he corrects himself, wilbur is tubbo’s brother.

some paternal instinct buried deep inside of him is telling him to hug the kid, reassure him, tell him he doesn’t need to talk about wilbur if he doesn’t want to. he shoots that bitch in the face; he can’t grow soft now.

“okay,” schlatt says with a nod. he knows what it feels like to be pushed to the side by someone you look up to, and he’s not gonna let fundy feel like that again.

he shoots the soft part of himself in the face again. he’s not going soft. he's not! he’s just giving these kids something stable to hold onto.

jesus, he needs to go back to politics. maybe arguing with eret about expanding their territory and breaching their former treaties will make him feel like a shitty person again. that’ll make him feel better.

eret is waiting for them at the doors of the castle with a stern look on his face. alright, so there’s another person that’s not thrilled about schlatt’s choice to exile l’manberg’s former leaders. schlatt takes note of the sunglasses, the crown, the cape, the way they stand. they’re angled defensively, but they’re leaning toward tubbo and fundy, who are both standing to schlatt’s left. schlatt makes a mental note to ask about that- he knows l’manberg’s history. eret betrayed them. why, then, is tubbo sending eret a look that clearly says to stand down, as if they’re communicating with their eyes in a way that only siblings can? 

eret’s gaze lands on george and settles there for a moment, just a moment. george nods almost imperceptibly. schlatt catches it, and he grins.

“king eret,” he greets, as warmly as he can muster. “how’s it going?”

“fine,” eret says, continuing to look past him. “i see you’ve brought- what are everyone’s positions here?”

“my cabinet,” schlatt says, waving a hand. “i assume you have your advisors here with you as well? we can save introductions for then.”

he knows that eret doesn’t have advisors. he also knows that there are probably at least three people here to make sure he doesn’t try anything.

“sure,” eret agrees. “come on in.”

they lead them through the halls of the castle- it’s a nice place, certainly. tubbo and fundy both move like they’re going to walk next to eret, and then fall back. schlatt jerks his head, allowing them to both catch up to the king. george seems tense. quackity walks easy, just behind schlatt.

“big q,” schlatt says, slowing his steps so that his vice president is walking next to him rather than behind him. “take note of who’s all here, yeah? we’ve gotta make sure we know everyone’s allegiances.”

“yes sir,” quackity says with a nod, and schlatt notes with pleasure that quackity continues walking next to him.

eret leads them to a room with a long table, where there are a few people scattered around one end- schlatt marks hbomb, sapnap, and punz. punz and sapnap both have weapons drawn and set on the table, as if they’re trying to be intimidating. sapnap freezes when george enters the room- alright, schlatt thinks, that’s why george has been so tense.

“my- uh- advisors,” eret says, waving a hand to the three seated. they go to the head of the table, and schlatt moves to stand at the other end. george remains behind him; the other three all take a seat. “and your cabinet?”

“quackity is my vp, tubbo is my secretary of state, fundy is my secretary of the treasury,” schlatt announces. this is it, they’re being diplomats now, their positions are locked in stone. “george here is cabinet protection.”

hbomb and punz both appear to not give a single shit about any of this. they’re probably both here because eret asked them to be. sapnap is glaring at him. firmly not on his side, then. not a problem.

unless it’s because he thinks schlatt is being dismissive of george. he makes a note to tell george to change his apathetic nature, at least publicly. in private, george can continue to care as little as he wants.

“well, then,” eret says. “what is it you’re here to talk about, president schlatt?”

“just checking some things over, you know, i want to be on good terms with my neighboring nations,” he drawls. “i know you’ve got a treaty with- ah- with l’manberg , and i just want to know how firm the parameters of that treaty are.”

“they’re firm,” they reply sternly.

“not up for negotiation at all? no?”

“unless you talk to dream and he gives you a different answer,” eret shrugs. “then i’ll concede.” 

they’re trying to pretend they have power when in reality wilbur and dream have been using them all along, the same way the two of them have been using everybody else. arguing with eret will do nothing but make another enemy for him, another ally for the exiles.

“alright,” schlatt says with a nod. “i’ll do that, then.” it’s easier to argue with the green guy anyways, he makes it so much easier to warrant getting mad. “do you know when he’ll be back?”

“no,” sapnap says before eret can speak. “he didn’t say.”

sapnap is glaring at george. george is glaring right back. huh.

“alright,” schlatt says with a shrug. “if there’s nothing that can be done to negotiate the treaty, i guess that’s all we came for. i look forward to any future diplomatic meetings.” he ends with a flashy grin. punz and hbomb are both nodding. oh, yeah. he knows politics.

eret sees them out. george mutters something about needing to make a stop, and schlatt waves him off dismissively. they gather in their own meeting room in the white house, schlatt at the head of the table, and he waits for the other three to take a seat before he speaks.

“eret always wears sunglasses, yeah?” he asks.

“they don’t want to make anyone else uncomfortable,” tubbo says immediately. “because of their eyes.”

“what’s wrong with their eyes?”

he knows. he just wants to hear someone else say it.

“they look like- eret looks a lot like herobrine,” tubbo says, his voice trailing off on the last word. right, then. this world is the same as all the others when it comes to legends of the old gods, alex, steve, herobrine- scared.

it’s the new gods they should be scared of. dream. technoblade. philza. bad.

wilbur. schlatt.

“but they’re not dangerous,” tubbo says quickly. “not really. they’re really nice, and-”

“didn’t they betray you for power?” quackity points out, and tubbo flushes, going quiet.

“they’re my best friend,” fundy says firmly. “they’re different now. i think a positive relationship between our two nations would be beneficial for all of us.”

schlatt nods, still looking at tubbo.

“they’re like a sibling to me,” tubbo says quietly. “them and me and niki, we’re like- i dunno. we’re like siblings, i guess.”

okay, then, schlatt’s going to keep an eye on eret. not because they’re a threat, but because if tubbo and fundy both care about them, then schlatt may as well care about them too. besides, fundy’s right, they need to get along with the only other formally recognized nation in the world.

“cool,” schlatt says with a nod. “that’s decided, then- good terms only with eret’s country.”

he can see that referring to it as eret’s country rather than dream’s country makes them all startle. but in a good way. schlatt’s going to bring about change, yes, but for these three kids sitting in front of him- he’s going to make it a change for the better.

Chapter Text

“they’re called pogtopia,” tubbo says quietly.

schlatt startles. he hadn’t realized the kid was standing in the doorway to his office.

“what?” he asks blankly. he’s been doing paperwork all day; he hasn’t seen anyone since quackity dropped off lunch and sat with him until he ate it, and that was… eleven hours ago. he told fundy to try and talk niki into meeting with him for the third time in the past three days, and george has been doing his thing where he disappears for hours on end and wanders into the white house occasionally to knock on schlatt’s door and see if he needs anything (he never does). he gave quackity a day in charge, and he’s been sorting through everything left over from wilbur’s presidency, since apparently wilbur never did a single piece of paperwork. tubbo left some time in the early morning, and schlatt assumed he wouldn’t be seeing him for the rest of the day.

but now tubbo’s here, fidgeting in the doorway. his suit jacket is gone, and his tie is loose, but he’s still wearing the dress shirt and pants. schlatt’s kind of surprised, both that he’s still wearing formal clothes this late at night and that he isn’t just spending the night with tommy.

“tommy, wilbur, and technoblade,” tubbo explains. “they’re calling themselves pogtopia.”

“oh,” schlatt says. dumb fucking name. “good to know. thanks, bud. did you just get back?”

it’s late. was the kid travelling while mobs were spawning? not that he cares, of course, he just- he needs his secretary of state to handle affairs and stuff-

“yeah.”

“this late?”

“i wasn’t- i’m sorry, i didn’t know i had a curfew-”

from a teenager, schlatt would expect that sarcastically, but tubbo is completely genuine. jesus, this kid got fucked up.

“i’m not mad, kid, just worried. what’ll happen if my secretary of state dies? whole country would fall apart.”

tubbo looks like he doesn’t know how to respond. schlatt sighs.

“i’m saying that i care about your safety, kid. you’re safe coming back from wherever it is?”

“i can handle myself, schlatt,” the kid says with a nod. “i’ve been doing it for a long time.”

and oh. that- that hits him hard, because if this is his kid and he’s been on his own for this long, and-

“where is it you’re coming from, kid? we can get some torches up-”

and then he realizes that torches going up would lead him right to pogtopia, or whatever, and while he knows that he’s not going to attack them, no one else knows that. everyone seems to be under the impression that he hates wilbur and tommy when in truth, he doesn’t really give a shit about them or what they do. he just wants to bring this country some peace, and he knows he’s the best man to do it.

“i’m not telling them any of your secrets, sir,” tubbo says, and everything about him speaks anxiety. “please don’t make me- don’t make me tell you theirs.”

“of course not,” he says quickly. “keep your secrets. that’s another joke.”

“okay,” tubbo says, letting out a breath. “and- i know i kind of disappeared today, but is there any way i could get a day off tomorrow? i’ve had this killer headache and i don’t know if it’s going to go away.”

oh. oh, hello, schlatt makes a mental note to search around l’manberg for any doctors specializing in hybrids, hello-

“sure thing, kid, anything you need. let me know if it doesn’t get better and we’ll get a doctor here, yeah?”

“yeah,” tubbo says. “thank you, schlatt.”

“sure thing, tubbs. and- you’re sixteen, right?”

“almost seventeen.”

“almost seventeen.” he was almost seventeen when his horns started growing in. the mantra of that’s your kid grows louder in his mind.

“why?”

“no reason. sleep well, tubbo.”

“you too, schlatt. don’t stay up too late.”

with that, tubbo leaves. schlatt waits approximately ten seconds before getting up and- for lack of a better word- yeeting himself to fundy’s room. fundy never came to see him after schlatt sent him off, so he’s assuming niki rejected his request for a meeting yet again and fundy just didn’t see the point in interrupting him. it’s late, though, so fundy should be here, and the fox hybrid’s been around since the nation was formed. he should know of good hybrid doctors, right?

he knocks on the door quickly, running a hand through his hair. it opens, and then someone that is not fundy yelps.

“sorry, i don’t know who i was expecting-” quackity says, trying to shut the door. schlatt sticks his foot in the doorway, blocking it, because he’s tired enough to not know whose door he’s knocking on, but he’s not tired enough to miss the flash of bright yellow feathers.

“quackity,” schlatt says, trying to keep his voice soft. because it’s late, and he doesn’t want to draw anyone’s attention to them, not because he doesn’t want to scare his vice president. definitely not. “quackity, hold up, do you have someone else in there with you?”

“um,” quackity says, and he opens the door.

his suit is off, and he’s wearing a loose-fitting shirt. sure enough, there’s a small pair of wings on his back that schlatt has never seen before. the feathers are light yellow and slightly rumpled, almost like…

almost like a young duck’s. quack -ity. end above and nether below.

“you’re a hybrid?” schlatt blurts. he shoves himself into the room and closes the door behind them. “holy shit, q, can you fly? how long have you had those for? how the hell do you hide them?” it’s like he’s a kid and every single piece of unspoken hybrid etiquette he’s ever learned has just flown out the window.

which, to be fair, most hybrid etiquette is just shut your fat mouth about it, even in a world as accepting as dream’s. most hybrids are taught to hide anything that makes them different; that’s what schlatt was taught. kind of hard to hide the giant curved horns on either side of his head, so he’s one of the unlucky ones. quackity was probably taught the same thing, taught to hide his wings, and now he’s in a world where he doesn’t need to and he just hasn’t realized-

“that can’t be healthy,” schlatt settles on eventually.

“it’s not,” quackity says with a slight laugh. “i haven’t- uh- preened them in a while. some of the bones broke at some point and never healed right. they’re just- i was raised to hide them, y’know?”

he knows. god, does he know.

“yeah,” he says. “well, you know- you know dream wouldn’t stand for that kind of shit here, right? from anyone. they’d be booted faster than anything.”

quackity looks panicked, almost. schlatt backtracks as quickly as possible- because he can’t handle a nervous breakdown, not because he cares , or anything.

“but i mean, i get it. i wasn’t able to hide, y’know, and then i had to deal with that growing up, and- i’m really bad at this, but what i’m trying to say is even if you keep hiding them in public, don’t feel the need to hide them around anyone here. because fundy and i are both hybrids and i think tubbo might be too and ender only knows what george is-”

“tubbo might be a hybrid?” quackity yelps.

“yeah, i was looking for fundy about getting the kid to a hybrid doctor, but i’m so fucking tired i knocked on the wrong door- we should get you to a hybrid doctor, too, come to think of it, because you need healthier methods of hiding other than folding your wings up and stuffing them under your shirt-”

“schlatt,” quackity says, sounding completely exhausted. “have you been working since i brought you lunch?”

“yes.”

quackity sighs, as if this explains a lot. it probably does, schlatt thinks. ender above, he needs a drink.

“i can’t fly,” quackity says eventually. “wings are too small. i’ve had them since i was ten. and yeah, i hide them by folding them and stuffing them under my shirt. i’m a duck hybrid and the wings are the only weird thing about me and-”

“they’re not weird,” schlatt snorts. “you think my horns are weird? you think fundy’s ears are weird? they’re a part of what makes you you , big q, don’t call ‘em weird.”

quackity ruffles his wings, probably subconsciously, based on how red his face gets. schlatt smirks.

“i’m gonna go talk to fundy about that doctor, alright? i’ll schedule you an appointment.” wait, fuck, he can’t let them think he cares, rewind, rewind. “i can’t have my cabinet getting unhealthy, or something.” perfect save.

“alright, schlatt,” his vice president says, sounding resigned. “go to bed after that, yeah? and don’t- please don’t tell anyone i’m a hybrid.”

“your secret’s safe with me, kid,” he says, saluting as the leaves the room and closes the door softly. kid? when the hell did he start calling quackity kid?

this is not a right now issue. this is an issue for much, much later. he goes to the door that he’s certain is fundy’s and knocks quietly. the right person opens it this time, looking like he just rolled out of bed.

“yeah?” he says. “schlatt? what’s up?”

schlatt realizes that it’s, like, one in the morning. maybe he shouldn’t be doing this now. but he’s already here, and fundy’s already awake.

“i need a hybrid doctor,” he says.

“a what,” fundy replies blankly.

“a doctor specializing in hybrids,” he clarifies. “you have those, right?”

“i mean, i think we might have one, i- what’s this about?”

shit, fuck, he can’t say anything about tubbo in case he’s wrong, and he certainly can’t say anything about quackity, fuck, schlatt, come up with something-

“i have pre-existing health conditions,” schlatt says blankly. “and i just remembered now that i need to see a doctor. what’s manberg’s healthcare system like? remind me to take a look at that tomorrow.”

fundy is just staring at him.

“i’ll get you the business card in the morning,” he grumbles. “niki agreed to meet with you at her bakery. pastries for lunch?”

oh, that- that’s some good news. that’s some great fucking news.

“i love pastries,” he says, and fundy grins at him before closing the door.

Chapter Text

schlatt wakes up to fundy pounding on his door. he drags himself out of bed and throws the door open. fundy looks completely put-together; schlatt glances down at himself and he’s in the same dress shirt he had been wearing all day yesterday.

“hey,” fundy says, holding out a card. “here’s the only hybrid doctor in town. do you... do you need someone to come with you?”

“nah. no, i should be good, thank you- take the morning off, would you? maybe check in on tubbo, he said he had a headache but i kind of want him there if we’re meeting with niki.”

“yes, boss,” fundy says agreeably. schlatt closes the door and glances down at the card. he’ll stop there first, then, try to convince the doctor to make appointments in the white house so no one gets suspicious of tubbo or quackity if they go in.

he attempts to straighten himself up as much as possible before he leaves to grab some breakfast. quackity is sitting cross-legged on top of the kitchen table, and his wings are out. schlatt grins, feeling pride bubbling up in him-

because all hybrids should be proud, it’s not like he’s specifically proud of quackity or anything, not at all, he’s not- he’s not soft , god.

“hey,” quackity says. he’s eating a bowl of cereal and staring down at the newspaper. “approval ratings are high, seems like people are less mad about the whole exile thing now.”

“good,” schlatt says with a nod. “i was thinking we start tackling the healthcare system today, cause it seems like we don’t even have one of those. do you wanna give a statement to the press? i’ve gotta run to that doctor and make appointments for, like, three people.”

“oh,” quackity says. “uh- sure, yeah, i can do that, what do you want me to say?”

“i dunno, come up with something. i’ll have the doctor pay a house visit, yeah? so you don’t have to go out.”

not because he cares , or anything, just because- okay, he cares a little bit. but just a little bit.

“that’d be great, thank you,” quackity says, smiling. “for the healthcare system- would it be alright if i said we were gonna emphasize getting more hybrid doctors?”

“hell yeah, man, that’d be epic.” and it would, especially since it seems like there’s only one doctor specializing in hybrids in this whole fucking country, which for a place as progressive as dream claims his world is, is little bit of an issue.

“cool,” quackity says with a nod. “uh. do you need me to do anything else, then?”

“be here by lunch, we’re meeting with niki,” schlatt orders. quackity salutes, and schlatt slips off.

he doesn’t realize until he’s halfway there that he forgot to grab breakfast, and he’s kind of hungry. he sighs, realizes that he’s literally about to walk past niki’s bakery, and sighs again.

the bell jingles as he walks in, and he’s instantly bombarded with the smell of baked goods. it’s fucking delectable. he taps one foot as he stands at the counter, and niki emerges from the kitchen with her sleeves rolled up and arms crossed.

“hey,” he says awkwardly.

“our meeting is at noon,” she says sternly. “why are you here?”

maybe this was a bad idea. he’s not scared of niki, definitely not, but he’s gotta admit that she looks kind of terrifying. and she could probably beat him up, easy money.

“i wanted to buy some breakfast,” he replies. “what would you recommend?”

niki is glaring at him. he sighs.

“okay,” he says. “i know you hate me. i know you want wilbur back and you’re pissed about the exile.” he pauses.

“you’re right,” she says, nodding. “is there more?”

“the only reason i did it is because i know wilbur,” schlatt says. he runs a hand through his hair. niki looks unimpressed. “i know that you’ve been close to him for a while, but i know him from other worlds, too, and i know he would never accept defeat like this. exiling him seemed to be the best way to prevent another violent uprising from happening. manberg just got out of a period of war, y’know? i don’t want to send it into another.”

she still looks unimpressed, but slightly less pissed.

“fine,” she says with a shrug. “why’d you even run in the first place?”

and that- well, there’s a lot to unpack there. he wants power. he wants control. he wants, he wants, he wants-

“i want to keep manberg in this state of peace,” he shrugs. “wilbur’s a storyteller, niki, and peace doesn’t make for good stories. not to mention the fact that the guy has no idea how to run a country. a revolution, sure. but a country? hell, you guys don’t even have a healthcare system!”

niki frowns.

“i’m not happy about it,” she says eventually. “and i’m even less happy that you exiled tommy, too, because he’s just a kid-”

“a kid that’ll follow his brother to the end,” schlatt points out.

“don’t interrupt me.”

he flushes and mumbles an apology. niki looks pleased at this, and she leans forward on the counter. he feels like he’s about to get a lecture, this is the exact look his sister would always have right before she told him off.

“i’m not happy about it, but i’ll accept it. only because you won fairly. and speaking of kids- where’s tubbo? isn’t he your secretary?”

“he’s my secretary of state,” schlatt corrects. “he’s in charge of his own stuff, he’s not my assistant. but i gave him a day off, he said he had a headache.”

niki looks a bit surprised at this. “where was he yesterday?” she questions. “i saw him coming home late.”

“wherever tommy’s set up camp,” schlatt shrugs. “he’s been visiting.”

“and that doesn’t make you… mad?”

“why would that make me mad? i literally don’t give a shit about what the kids do, niki, as long as they’re being safe, i dunno. i just don’t want wilbur starting up a fuss.”

niki looks even more surprised at this. she nods eventually, uncrossing her arms.

“so,” she says. “breakfast?”

“what do you recommend?”

five minutes and a loaf of delicious-looking bread later, schlatt makes his way out with the promise of returning with quackity and fundy around noon to talk business. he remembers tubbo’s words from earlier in the week about more businesses, maybe he’ll get her opinion on that.

the hybrid doctor actually seems like a pretty good doctor. he manages to talk her into making appointments at the white house for the next afternoon to check in on both tubbo and quackity. she also checks in on his health issues- he hadn’t been lying to fundy, really- and tells him that he’s not going to die any time soon, which is probably good.

“maybe continue to avoid alcohol,” she tells him with a kind smile. he hasn’t touched a bottle since he started campaigning, so he guesses he’ll try and take her advice for the time being.

when he makes it back to the white house, george is waiting, tapping his foot impatiently.

“hey, gogy,” schlatt greets. “what’s going on?”

“dream’s back,” george says immediately, choosing to ignore the nickname. “he wants a meeting. now.”

schlatt sighs, continuing to walk toward the meeting room. george follows, scrolling through his communicator.

“tell him i’ve got a meeting with niki in an hour, so we can squeeze him in now if he really wants, but it’s gonna have to be here. is quackity back yet?”

“right here, boss,” quackity chirps up, poking his head out of the meeting room. his wings are hidden under his suit jacket, but he still looks like he’s doing alright. “try and keep it down, we got tubbo some painkillers but he said his head is still hurting.”

“why’s he working, then?” schlatt asks with a frown. tubbo grins as they enter, waving.

“i’m feeling better,” he promises. “i’m sure it’ll go away soon.”

“dream’s here,” george says suddenly, bolting out of the room.

“okay,” schlatt says. “awesome. that doctor’s coming tomorrow, guys-”

“doctor?” tubbo asks.

“i just want her to check up on you, just in case,” schlatt says quickly. tubbo nods. quackity sends him a reassuring thumbs-up.

fundy slips into the room and takes a seat just before dream enters, george following hot on his heels. the masked man takes one look around the room before narrowing his masked gaze on schlatt. schlatt feels like he should be terrified, but he just got stared down by niki nihachu, so it’s really not that big of a deal.

“sup, green boy,” he says as a greeting. he can practically imagine dream’s glare. he’s never had the privilege of seeing dream’s face, so he pictures two little eyebrows over the stupid smiley face mask. it’s kind of funny. he’s sure dream interprets his smirk as a challenge.

“schlatt,” dream says, voice cold. “i heard you won the election.”

“big q and i coalesced our votes,” he agrees. “i look forward to working with your nation, dream. i don’t know if you heard from eret-”

“i’m sure i will,” dream growls. “be sure to follow the treaty, schlatt.”

alright, it’s decided, he’s making dream an enemy. one glance around the room shows that no one else really has a problem with it. tubbo and fundy both look slightly uncomfortable. quackity’s face is somewhere between anger and fear. george looks bored as ever, but his fingers are drumming against his leg anxiously.

dream’s all for chaos. he’s going to be taking wilbur’s side. fuck it- he hasn’t purposefully pissed anyone off in a while.

“it’s president schlatt, actually,” he says, smirk widening. dream’s stance changes to something even angrier, deadlier, almost. george clears his throat.

“sir,” quackity says, shifting nervously behind him. he glances back- tubbo’s got a grimace on his face, but he tries to grin when he sees that schlatt’s looking. he’s rubbing his forehead uncomfortably.

“i think this meeting is done,” schlatt says, turning back to dream. “george, if you’d be so kind as to escort dream out.”

george nods and grabs dream’s elbow. dream strides out of the room, and schlatt can practically imagine his sneer.

“oh, good, that worked,” tubbo says, dropping both his hands and the grimace.

“what?” fundy says.

“i figured schlatt would make him leave if my headache came back,” the kid says brightly.

schlatt takes a beat to process that before bursting into laughter. damn kid, using manipulation to his advantage and the advantage of his friends, because they were all getting uncomfortable around dream and tubbo must have picked up on that too- jesus, schlatt is actually hoping that tubbo is his kid at this point, and even if he isn’t- well, they’re here now. schlatt can totally be a mentor.

no, he doesn’t care about these kids, that’s not what’s going on-

“i’m proud,” he says honestly, reaching out to ruffle tubbo’s hair.

there are two little bumps, right where horns would be. tubbo winces, and immediately tries to cover it up with a grin, shoving schlatt off playfully. but it doesn’t change the fact that tubbo’s growing horns.

huh. he was right.

“right,” he says loudly, clearing his throat. this is a problem for tomorrow. “let’s go see niki.”

Chapter Text

if schlatt wasn’t certain before that tubbo was his son, he’s pretty certain now. because the kid asks him to wait outside as the doctor runs her tests, and his heart nearly stops when he hears tubbo yelp in pain and the doctor give hurried apologies. quackity’s appointment went well, or so he claimed, and when schlatt gave him a look, he swore he let the doctor actually take a look at his wings and make sure they were healthy.

now, the doctor opens tubbo’s door, beckoning schlatt in.

“you’re his father, right?” she asks. tubbo is sitting on his bed, frowning at the floor.

“uh,” schlatt says.

yes, his brain supplies.

“no,” he answers.

“oh, i’m sorry, i just assumed-” the doctor starts, and he holds up a hand, waving off the apology. she quiets. “it’s just- tubbo is a ram hybrid, and knowing you are as well, i thought-”

“tubbo’s a what,” schlatt says. he knew, of course he knew, but hearing it confirmed-

“surprise?” tubbo offers. he doesn’t look… pissed, or upset, which is a good thing.

“his horns should be breaking through in a week or two, i left him enough explanation on how to handle it, but i’m assuming you know as well,” the doctor supplies.

“yeah,” schlatt says, swallowing harshly. “yeah, i know how to- how to help him through.” horns breaking through are a painful, painful process. he remembers it happening to him. he does not want it happening to the kid. maybe medicine has advanced enough that it won’t be as bad, hopefully it has-

“send someone for me when it starts and i can get you the right medicines,” the doctor says. “don’t worry, mister president, your son- your secretary is in very good hands, i’m sorry, you just look so alike-”

“it’s alright,” schlatt says.

“thank you!” tubbo calls as the doctor moves to leave the room.

“of course, call me if you need anything,” she says, nodding to them both before leaving. schlatt stands there for a moment, tubbo sitting on the bed and looking anywhere but him, before he sighs and moves toward the door.

“wait-” tubbo starts, jerking up, but he settles when schlatt just closes the door and sits on the bed.

“kid,” he says quietly. “you said you were adopted by philza, yeah?”

“yeah,” tubbo replies, and he looks like he already knows where this is going.

“how- how’d phil get you?”

“he found me in a box by the side of the road,” tubbo answers blankly. 

jesus h christ, of course that’s what they told the kid. holy fucking nether below.

schlatt has no idea how to tell the kid this. does it even need to be said?

“i had a son, once,” he says instead. “i was young and stupid and tried my damn best to take care of him. but i was poor as shit, so i- well, i didn’t leave him in a box by the side of the road. when he was- god, he must’ve been three or four- i dropped him off with a good friend of mine, and the friend promised to find someone to take care of him. i left him with this stupid- this stupid bee plushie that he wanted for christmas, it took me six months to save up for it and i didn’t eat for like four of those months-”

he cuts himself off before he can start crying. he’s purposefully avoided thinking about all of this for that exact reason, it hurts so much, but he knows whatever he went through was probably nothing compared to his poor kid-

“would it be awful?” he asks, staring at the wall in front of them. “having me as a father?”

“i don’t think so,” tubbo answers with a hum. “i think that if your son knew what you did for him, and that you cared about him, i think he’d be able to forgive you.”

“and if- y’know, hypothetically-”

“oh, of course, hypothetically,” tubbo says with a shy grin, and schlatt laughs. it’s a little watery. he pushes the tears back down again.

“hypothetically, then, if you were my kid, and i- uh- exiled your best friend- took over your nation- kinda was an all-around dickbag-”

“i don’t think you’re an all-around dickbag,” tubbo says, eyebrows furrowed. “i think- i think that you don’t stop me from seeing my best friend, and you’re not a bad leader, and you’re working hard, and- hypothetically, if i were your son, i think- i think that would be okay.”

schlatt nods and stands up, and tubbo nods back, and hesitantly, schlatt holds out his arms.

tubbo dives into them. schlatt lets out a slight oomph as the kid wraps his arms around schlatt’s waist, burying his face in his chest, and squeezes tighter.

“this isn’t hypothetical, is it?” tubbo asks.

“no, kid,” schlatt says. “i don’t think it is. we can do a paternity test, if you want-”

“i think that’d be good,” tubbo says, and he pulls back a bit. “did you know i would end up with phil?”

“i figured you would,” schlatt says. “i kinda- y’know, i hoped he’d take care of you like one of his own. but i don’t think he even knows how to take care of his own kids. not to speak bad of the elderly, of course-”

tubbo laughs, and something feels right. yes, this is his son, this is his boy, this is the part of his life that’s been missing for years.

“i think, dad,” tubbo says, and part of schlatt’s heart feels whole again, “that we have a lot of catching up to do.”

they don’t tell anyone that they’re related. a week goes by, during which they manage to get a solid nation-wide healthcare plan in place, as well as start working on improving the economy. niki stops by around breakfast and dinner every day, bringing them all food. she always greets tubbo and fundy with hugs and quackity and george with a warm smile, and she always politely says hello to schlatt, which is something, he guesses.

he spends time catching up with tubbo. he talks to quackity about hybrid things. he gives fundy important jobs and fundy completely exceeds all expectations. george becomes less apathetic, starts getting involved in some of the smaller projects, and eret approves his request to expand into unused territory.

he holds a meeting to discuss tearing down the walls.

“isn’t this nation founded on freedom?” he asks his cabinet- and niki, who’s been unofficially inducted. “shouldn’t we get rid of the walls, the signs of oppression?”

they all work together to tear down the walls. he considers, for just a moment, burning down the flag. he knows fundy is eager to prove himself, he knows fundy would do it. but no, he’s earned niki’s trust even if he hasn’t yet earned her friendship, and the flag isn’t hurting anyone.

it’s the final day of tearing down the walls when he ruffles tubbo’s hair and sees a feral-looking child on the edge of the woods. the kid is gone before he can call out, but the shock of blond hair marks it as unmistakably tommy.

“you know,” schlatt says to tubbo that night, after they’ve washed the obsidian out from under their nails and are eating dinner made by niki and quackity. “you’re welcome to bring tommy around, if you want. i’m not gonna stop you.”

“really?” tubbo asks. schlatt shrugs. the kid’s not gonna do anything on his own, and besides, if tubbo was going to betray him, he would have by now. he trusts the kid.

tubbo starts sneaking off more often. he still lies to schlatt about where he’s been, like he’s still afraid schlatt will get mad, but they’re not very good lies.

“i’m pregnant,” tubbo says blankly one time, and schlatt actually bursts into laughter at that one. tubbo gives him a sheepish grin before schlatt waves him out of the room.

on one such occasion, he’s in the middle of finalizing some paperwork for some of the new buildings in the territory expansion, and he realizes he needs tubbo’s signatures on a couple of papers that he dropped off earlier. he hasn’t seen the kid all day- hell, he hasn’t seen anyone all day, he’s been holed up in his office- and he’s sure as hell not gonna go through the kid’s stuff without permission.

and, okay, it’s late at night, and maybe he’s looking for an excuse to find tubbo. not because he’s worried, or because he cares, or anything, because-

okay, yeah, he cares a little bit. a lot. he cares a lot, and he’s a little worried.

“hey,” he says, poking his head into the white house’s lounge. niki and fundy are both on the couch, niki completely upside down. george and quackity are on the floor, a monopoly board set up in front of them.

“no!” quackity says loudly. “no, you’re not allowed to play, this game is capitalism incarnate and we all know you’d win!”

schlatt raises his hands in surrender as the room bursts into laughter.

“i’m just looking for tubbo,” he says. “anyone seen him? i’m assuming he’s with tommy, but it’s getting late, and-”

“schlatt, are you worried ?” fundy says teasingly. schlatt flips him off.

“if he’s in l’ma- if he’s in manberg, he’s probably at their bench,” niki says. she’s still upside-down, but he doesn’t miss the odd look she gives him. “do you know where that is?”

he doesn’t. niki gives him directions. he’s kind of surprised, but as he makes his way up, he can see why it’s a favorite spot. the view is gorgeous, even from only halfway up the hill.

he can hear tommy before he sees either of them, and there they are, both laughing. he’s never seen that look on tubbo’s face. it makes him happy, to see his kid laughing like that.

fuck, he’s getting soft.

he clears his throat loudly to announce his presence. the two boys both jump anyways. tommy’s got his sword drawn and pointed at schlatt before he even has time to take another step forward, one arm thrown out in front of tubbo.

“what the hell are you doing here?” tommy growls. “how did you even find us?”

“niki told me you’d be here, it’s cool, i’m looking for the kid,” schlatt says, waving a hand dismissively. “tubbster, did you sign those building approval papers?”

“yeah, i put them on your desk, did you not see?” tubbo says nonchalantly. he grabs tommy’s arm and pulls him back.

“i’m sorry,” tommy says slowly, looking back and forth between the two. “what the fuck is going on?”

“i told you, tommy, no matter how much wilbur tells you otherwise, schlatt’s nice,” tubbo says plainly. schlatt grins at him. “i mean- that’s what i was trying to tell you earlier, you know how i had that doctor appointment?”

“right,” tommy says carefully, slowly. he’s still looking at schlatt suspiciously, but he sheathes his sword.

“i’m- uh- i’m a ram hybrid,” tubbo mutters quickly. tommy whirls around faster than anything, grabbing tubbo’s shoulders.

“what?” he cries.

“i’m a ram hybrid,” tubbo repeats. “and schlatt is- uh- probably my dad.”

tommy looks like he’s going to pass out, swiveling back and forth between tubbo and schlatt. tubbo looks like he’s about to either start crying or start sprinting away. tommy seems to come to a decision and turns on schlatt.

“if i hear that you’ve hurt him in any fucking way, i’ll rip your balls off, do you hear me?” tommy snarls.

“i hear you,” schlatt says, hands raised. “loud and clear.” what the fuck, this feral child is practically frothing at the mouth like a defensive raccoon, did no one teach this kid how to handle things and holy ender he is not going to adopt his son’s best friend, he’s not-

“you mean- you don’t care?” tubbo chokes out.

“of course i don’t care, tubbo,” tommy scoffs. “you can’t help where you come from, and-” he turns and glares at schlatt. schlatt takes that as his cue to leave the two alone.

he gives the group playing monopoly a thumbs-up as he makes his way back through the white house. niki has a huge pile of fake cash next to her, clearly about to soundly beat the three boys. and sure enough, he finds the approval papers with tubbo’s signature on top of one of the stacks on his desk.

an hour later, tubbo knocks on his door. he’s grinning.

“it all went well?” schlatt asks, and tubbo nods quickly, still grinning. he looks like he’s trying not to cry again. schlatt gets up quickly, and tubbo hugs him tightly.

“thank you, dad,” he says, and schlatt holds his son tighter.

Chapter Text

schlatt doesn’t sleep that night, mostly because he wakes up in a cold sweat about an hour after he falls asleep and remembers the whole three-lives-only thing that dream’s got going on. which sends him into an immediate panic, because there was a whole revolution and whatever the war before it was and who knows how many times people have died and holy shit, he doesn’t even know how many lives his son has left, and he spends the entire night thinking about that instead of sleeping.

immediately when the sun rises, he wants to seek someone out and go over how many lives his cabinet all has left, just so he can watch out for them, make sure they’re doing okay. not because he cares, because he needs to know if he’s going to have to fill a position if someone permanently dies. it’s not because he cares about them, he isn’t getting attached.

he wants to do that as soon as he wakes up. however, they’ve established a bit of a morning routine that involves everyone gathering in the white house’s kitchen and having breakfast together. normally schlatt’s somewhere around the middle in terms of arriving, but today he’s the first person there.

fuck it. he’ll make breakfast for everyone, what does he have to lose? his dignity? he needs to be able to provide for his family, and-

hold up, pause, his family? when did he start thinking of the cabinet as his family? no, he’s just being a good boss, making breakfast, and if he’s providing for anyone it’s his son. but tubbo’s proven that he can take care of himself, so really, he’s just being nice. doing a nice thing for his cabinet. his workers. his employees.

he makes them pancakes, because why the hell not. niki seems surprised when she arrives with her usual supplies, since she’s the only person that provides any food in this damn country, apparently. but she smiles and says they smell delicious, and really, that’s better than her grabbing a pan and smacking him over the head with it, which is what he’s still expecting her to do every time they’re in a room together.

he’s got the first round of pancakes served by the time george arrives from wherever he lives and everyone else makes it down to eat.

“what’s this?” tubbo asks.

“breakfast,” schlatt replies, gesturing with the spatula in his hands. quackity and fundy both look like they’re trying not to laugh.

“and what’s that?” quackity chokes out, gesturing at schlatt. he glances down at the apron he’s wearing. it’s got best dad ever embroidered on it, probably because it was wilbur’s or something, but he wasn’t paying attention to that when he put it on.

“i didn’t want to get my suit dirty and it’s the only apron we have!” he protests.

“so don’t wear a suit to make breakfast!” fundy retorts. he’s laughing along with the others, but there’s something in his eyes that says pain. schlatt makes a note to talk to him later, make sure he’s doing okay.

“shut up and eat,” he grumbles, and god, now he sounds like a dad, and he ruffles tubbo’s hair as the kid passes and goes back to the pancakes.

their docket for today involves george and quackity meeting with eret about more expansions, tubbo and niki helping oversee the construction of new farms, and he and fundy doing more paperwork. at least he’s got fundy to help him this time, he thinks, except for the fact that fundy knocks on the door to his office an hour in and schlatt can just see something in his eyes and he knows this is going to take a while.

he sighs and sets the documents he’s reviewing aside, then gestures for fundy to sit down. instead of taking the seat across from him, the fox hybrid collapses onto the couch that’s shoved against one wall.

“you doing okay, kid?” schlatt asks, more than a little concerned.

“yeah,” fundy says, turning so that he’s laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. schlatt’s about to make a remark that he isn’t a therapist, but something in fundy’s demeanor tells him that now isn’t the time. “it’s just- that stupid apron, that you were wearing this morning. i got that for him for father’s day and i don’t think he wore it once. because he never cooked for us, he was always so focused on war, and-”

fundy continues rambling. schlatt only half pays attention, mostly because he’s thinking about punching wilbur in the face.

“my mother left, did you know that?” fundy asks, and schlatt shakes his head. “she was a shapeshifter, and wilbur jokes that he has her in salmon form in a bucket somewhere, and i just- i hate him. because he’s the reason she left, he was always focused on war and never on his family, and the second she knew i could take care of myself she just- she left. and i haven’t heard from her since.”

schlatt thinks about his own childhood, how he and his sister were left on their own, and they weren’t even in the middle of a revolution. thinking of what it would be like with his mother gone and his father so close yet so far- jesus, he can’t imagine what this poor kid went through.

“i was born in l’manberg, and most days i think i’ll die here, too,” fundy grumbles. “i can never escape.”

“don’t think like that,” schlatt says sharply. “you already have, kid. sure, you went through your teenage rebellion phase a little late, but- you ran against your father in his own damn election. you split the vote enough that we were able to come in and cinch it. you tore down those damn walls and you did it with pride. you’ve already escaped.”

“you think so?” fundy asks, swinging his legs down and sitting up, looking schlatt directly in the eyes. schlatt doesn’t look away.

“i know so,” schlatt replies. fundy looks more hopeful. okay, good, now get him off on a tangent, distract him so he doesn’t think about it more- “hey, i’m trying to sign off on this construction project and i keep seeing this place mentioned- what’s the final control room?”

fundy’s face falls. oh, shit, fuck, that’s not what he was trying to do-

“it’s a graveyard,” he says. “when eret betrayed us during the revolution, that’s where- that’s where it happened.”

“a graveyard,” schlatt echoes. a graveyard, where his son might have died, where his son might have lost a life, how many lives does the poor kid have left- “how many people died?”

“all of us,” fundy says, confirming his worst fears. “me, tubbo, tommy, wilbur- they killed all of us. eret just sat and watched, and we all died.”

jesus. and tubbo and fundy both forgave eret? what the hell, these kids are better than he’ll ever be.

“so do you want me to sign off on the construction?” he asks. “demolish the place?” he wants to demolish it, wants to destroy it, but maybe there’s still some sentimentality there, maybe they want it as a reminder that they were all killed and yet they persisted, they won-

“it’s not like it’s being used for anything,” fundy says with a shrug. “besides, the revolution’s over.”

“alright,” schlatt says with a nod. good. he’ll sign off on the papers and let the final control room remain a memory. “and- dream’s got his bullshit three lives thing going on still, right?”

“right,” fundy confirms.

“would you mind- just, for peace of mind, you know-”

“of course, uh- tubbo and i have two lives left, everyone else still has all three.”

“and tommy?” just because he knows if something happens, something that he could have prevented, tubbo would never forgive him.

“tommy’s down to one.”

fuck. shit. alright, he’s putting out a declaration, no one fucking touches his son’s feral raccoon of a best friend. he doesn’t care if the kid blows up the country, tommy is not going to permanently die on his watch.

“thanks, fundy,” he says, and fundy nods. he stands, getting ready to leave, then pauses in the doorway. schlatt waits for him to speak.

“you know, you’re good at this,” fundy says. “i think- i dunno. i think the best dad ever apron suits you.”

and then he’s gone. schlatt has no idea how to feel about that, what the fuck, he’s been here for like, two weeks, how shit of a parent was wilbur that fundy already thinks that?

fuck this. fuck. this. if these kids need a dad, then screw it, he’ll give them a dad.

Chapter Text

he’s still in his office when he hears quackity and george return from their meeting with eret. or rather, it’s around lunch time, he hears the sound of shattering glass coming from the kitchen, and he figures he should probably go check it out.

it’s just george there, leaning against the counter, clearly fuming. he’s staring at the sink, which is filled with glass and ceramic shards from what must be at least three different pieces of dishware. george doesn’t turn when schlatt knocks on the doorway.

“quackity’s overseeing building,” he says. he sounds furious, not at anything around them, at something else. schlatt quickly goes through everything that could piss george off like this and settles on either dream or sapnap. or both.

“meeting went badly, then?” he asks.

“the meeting went fine,” george says. “eret’s good with it all. we ran into dream on the way out.”

“ah,” he says, like he understands. he doesn’t. he waits, in case george wants to explain, and eventually the man turns back. there’s a crack in his goggles and blood on the same side of his face, like he got hit.

“dream’s not on our side,” george says eventually.

“i figured.” because he purposefully antagonized dream, he chose to make dream an enemy, he saw the way his cabinet reacted to dream’s presence and he acted on it. that was his choice. he didn’t mean for dream to take it out on george, not directly, at least.

“he’s not publicly taking sides, but he decided the second he left the meeting with you to side with pogtopia,” george says. “i watched him write out a letter to tommy and leave them a huge chest full of supplies. he met with techno and gave him even more.”

he takes a breath. schlatt raises an eyebrow.

“and you’re choosing to tell me this now… why?” he asks. george hesitates, his frown deepening, and schlatt sighs, tries to make his expression clearly say come on, just tell me.

“i need a room in the white house,” george says eventually.

that takes schlatt aback, a little bit. he didn’t think it would get that bad, he’s heard stories about manhunts and fighting, he assumed that it wouldn’t be bad enough for george to request a new place to live-

“okay, you gotta give me a little more than that, bud,” schlatt says. “why’s my dishware all broken in the sink? why do you need a room? why do you look like someone smacked you in the face with an axe?”

“because someone did smack me in the face with an axe,” george mutters. “we were leaving the meeting and dream showed up, he yelled at eret, i stepped in, he accused me of being a liar and cheat even though i ran with quackity because he told me to, and i pushed him, he grabbed his axe, i got mouthy, and he hit me.” he says all of this in one breath, and by the time he’s done, he doesn’t look angry. just tired. schlatt can relate.

“okay,” he says slowly. “there’s a lot to unpack there.”

“yeah,” george agrees with a humorless laugh. “you’re telling me.”

“okay,” schlatt repeats, gesturing for george to sit down at the kitchen table. george gives him a look. schlatt sends the same look back. george sits. “so. is hitting you in the face with an axe a thing that dream normally does?”

“no,” george says. “and- you know- we live together, and he’s pissing me the fuck off- sorry, i didn’t mean-” his face is red, like schlatt cares that he’s swearing.

“dude, it’s fine, keep going.” schlatt sits down across from him, and george makes a noise like he doesn’t know how to continue.

“well, we- i dunno. we fight a lot, that’s just what we do, but we can always tell if it’s gone too far, and he definitely couldn’t tell this time. and i- he needs to see that his actions have consequences. so i need a room in the white house. and to get my stuff from my actual house, but-”

“i’ll come with you,” schlatt says immediately. “we can make it a whole cabinet bonding experience, in case dream tries to start anything.”

he’s trying for humor. george doesn’t laugh, but he looks like he appreciates it nonetheless.

“thanks,” he says.

“we’ll get you a room, too, i know we have spare ones. do you need someone to take a look at that cut?”

“no, he barely nicked me, my goggles got most of the hit. i’ve had worse.”

“doubtless,” schlatt snorts. “you really ran for president with quackity under his orders?”

“quackity asked me to be his vice,” george shrugs. “i talked to dream about it, he said go for it. thought if we won he’d be able to get l’manberg- manberg, sorry- under his control again. i think he’s pissed now that he’s definitely not going to be able to.”

“because i’m here,” schlatt snorts.

“i’m glad you are. you’ve been better than anyone else trying to lead this country.”

well that- that’s good, because he feels like a bit of a fuck-up, honestly, even though he’s been working his damn hardest at this fucking job.

“thanks, george.”

“no problem, schlatt.”

ender, when did he become a therapist? first fundy, now george, it’s almost like-

his thought is cut off by someone knocking on the door. george, with his back to the door, jumps and turns around.

it’s sapnap. he’s got a bag in his hand and an unreadable expression on his face.

“i got your stuff from the house,” he says quietly. “quackity messaged that you were gonna ask for a room at the white house. figured you wouldn’t want to come back.”

it’s the softest schlatt thinks he’s ever heard sapnap. george stands up and sapnap frowns at the blood on his face.

“dream did that?” sapnap asks, reaching out. george allows him to wipe away the blood.

“yeah,” george mutters. schlatt chooses that moment to slip out of the room, figuring he really doesn’t need to be here for their private reunion. hopefully this’ll be enough to get sapnap on their side, then. if quackity is here, and george is here, and dream’s being a dick- that might be enough. sapnap would be good for their side just because he’s probably the only person that could match dream in a fight, other than maybe techno, but it’s not like techno would be joining their side any time soon.

quackity is waiting in the hallway when he exits.

“george okay?” he asks, and schlatt nods. “eret wants to meet with you tomorrow. i told him to come here at two, that okay?”

“perfect,” schlatt says. “did you check on the building, or was that a lie so you could eavesdrop?”

“that was a lie,” quackity confirms with a nod. “i wanted to make sure george was okay.”

“he should be fine, want to help me get a room ready for him?”

“‘course.”

which means his entire cabinet is now living in the white house, which is good, because he can keep them safe now. what the fuck, where did that come from.

i mean, he thinks. it’s better that they’re all here. safer.

which is true. and niki isn’t an official cabinet member, but she’s here enough that he could just convince her to move in, it’s not like she would need to abandon the bakery or anything, and then he’s got all these damn kids under one roof-

okay, okay, stop. tubbo and fundy, sure, and maybe quackity, but he’s not- he’s not about to play dad to george and niki, they’re both capable of taking care of themselves, and-

okay, maybe he’s playing dad a little bit. he’s gotta stop that shit, he’s growing soft and he can’t be having that, jesus.

“do you think i should ask niki to join the cabinet?” he asks quackity as they make sure the room is ready for george’s arrival.

“yes,” quackity says immediately.

well, there. it’s decided.

sapnap stays for dinner. niki makes them a picnic and they eat on the floor of the lounge, all of them shouting over each other. george has a bandage on his forehead and a new pair of goggles. when sapnap gets up to leave, schlatt catches up to him in the hallway.

“what does this mean for your allegiance?” he asks, his tone serious, down to business in a way he hasn’t been in a while. sapnap shifts his stance to something defensive. he looks like he’s trying to figure out something to say.

“dream isn’t publicly on pogtopia’s side,” he decides on. “and i’m not publicly on your side.”

schlatt nods and holds out a hand. sapnap frowns, then shakes it.

“the second karl’s over here, i’m over here,” sapnap says, gripping schlatt’s hand tightly. “i’m counting on you to- to keep george and quackity safe. yeah?”

“yeah,” schlatt agrees. he glances back into the lounge, where everyone is laughing at something that quackity just said, and he knows that he’d do that even if it wasn’t being asked of him.

sapnap gives him a quick bro-hug that sort of scares the shit out of him before he takes off. he makes his way back into the lounge and waits approximately six seconds before asking niki to become an official cabinet member. she agrees. he grins at her.

quackity pulls out the monopoly shortly after that, and schlatt completely wipes the board. but the grin doesn’t leave his face, and they’re all laughing louder than anything, and his heart feels fuller than it’s ever been. as it gets later, tubbo leans against his side, and george recounts the day’s events to them, and schlatt decides he’s adding two more kids to his family.

fuck it. he’s already determined to be the president that this country needs- he might as well be the dad that these kids need, too- and even if george and niki can take care of themselves, it’ll be good for them to have someone looking out for them. who cares if he’s going soft- he’s going to be that someone.

Chapter Text

they’ve got a full schedule the next day. he steals tubbo away for a bit to take a paternity test, just to be certain, and they’re told they’ll get the results back soon. niki and fundy are continuing to talk with vendors about proposed building plans. quackity is working out the last few kinks in the healthcare system. he tells george to trail him around, mostly so he can keep an eye on him. george doesn’t seem to mind.

they all meet up in the white house around lunch. george and tubbo make sandwiches for everyone while schlatt does paperwork at the kitchen table. he stares down at the executive order he’s just written out- he doesn’t want to sign it until he has the blessing of everyone on the cabinet.

niki and fundy wander in, chattering excitedly, just as george and tubbo serve the sandwiches. quackity comes crashing in a moment later, grinning.

“the healthcare system is officially completely perfect!” he announces, and there’s raucous applause from around the table. schlatt makes a mental note to talk to quackity later about how proud he is.

“before we start eating, i need your opinion on something,” he announces. “i’m sure by now we all know that i’ve made an enemy of dream. george has informed me that he’s firmly on pogtopia’s side and is even giving them resources.”

a few looks are exchanged. george, sitting at the other end of the table, holds steady eye contact with schlatt.

“so,” schlatt says. “i have here an executive order stating that dream is not welcome in manberg. it states that we will continue our current arrangement with his nation, but all meetings will be held on neutral ground, and he will not be able to step foot on our territory. i’m going to talk with eret about it later today, but- dream got violent with a member of my cabinet. and i need to show that i won’t let that shit stand. but i won’t sign off on it without unanimous approval.”

“sign off on it,” quackity says instantly. “i agree- he hit george, and we can’t let that shit fly.”

there’s murmured agreement from around the table. only george remains quiet, contemplative, watching schlatt. schlatt doesn’t look away.

“all in favor?” he asks.

every person around the table says aye. even george.

“then it’s decided. i’ll talk to eret at our meeting today. anyone who wants to be at the meeting is welcome, it’ll be held in the super official meeting room.”

eret arrives two hours later. schlatt’s waiting at the doors of the white house, tubbo, niki, and fundy standing just behind him. george and quackity are both waiting in the meeting room- everyone wanted to be present to hear schlatt’s discussion with eret, and he can’t blame them.

“eret!” tubbo calls as the king approaches. eret’s got a small group of people gathered behind them, and they wave excitedly. tubbo glances to schlatt, asking for permission, and schlatt nods. tubbo rushes forward, niki and fundy close behind, and they all collide with eret in a giant group hug.

tubbo is the first to pull back, dragging eret along with him up to the door. niki and fundy take the time to greet the rest of eret’s party- they once again have sapnap, hbomb, and punz with them.

“king eret,” schlatt says, holding out a hand. “pleasure to see you again.”

“the pleasure’s all mine,” eret says, and schlatt can immediately tell that they’re already on better terms. maybe it’s in the way tubbo stands confidently at schlatt’s side, or the fact that niki’s here at all, but the grin on eret’s face is more than just political politeness. it’s genuine.

“if you’ll be so kind as to follow me,” schlatt says courteously. he offers sapnap and the others a nod as the group follows him to the meeting room. he makes sure to walk next to eret rather than ahead of them- this is still a political meeting, after all, and he’s going to tell eret some things they may not want to hear.

sapnap seems pleased to see both george and quackity waiting in the meeting room. punz and hbomb have been looking around the white house appreciatively, and they stop at the doors to the meeting room.

“we’ve never actually been here,” punz says. “could we get a tour?”

eret nods politely, and schlatt gestures to george. george flashes a thumbs-up and heads out of the room, sapnap hot on his heels.

“alright, your majesty,” schlatt says, taking a seat at the head of the table. eret sits primly at the other end, hands folded, crown nestled carefully in their hair. “my vice president tells me you wanted to meet with me.”

“i do,” eret confirms. “i wanted to make sure you were aware that dream is taking pogtopia’s side.”

“i am,” schlatt says. “is that all?”

“sort of,” eret says. “there were a few matters i wanted to talk to you about alone, if you don’t mind.”

“perfectly fine.” he waves off his cabinet, and the group reluctantly trudges out into the hallway and closes the door. “before that, though, on the matter of dream taking pogtopia’s side-” he pauses, waiting for eret to confirm it’s alright to continue. eret nods. “did you know that dream hit a member of my cabinet in the face with an axe after a disagreement?”

“sapnap informed me, yes.”

“then you understand why my cabinet and i came to the unanimous agreement to issue an executive order banning dream from manberg’s territory. he won’t be allowed to step foot on our land, and if he does- well, i hadn’t gotten that far yet. i wanted to make sure that you knew what the situation was.”

eret hums thoughtfully, nodding. “if he’s spotted on your land, i’ll make sure he sees punishment for it, with everything in my power.”

“thank you,” schlatt says. “now. what is it you wanted to talk about?”

“tubbo, mostly,” eret says. “he told me not to tell anyone, but that there’s a strong possibility that you’re his father.”

“there is,” schlatt confirms, and he can stop himself from smiling. “we took a dna test this morning, should be getting results back soon. when did he tell you?”

“a few days ago, he stopped by after visiting tommy. and you have both george and niki living here now?”

“i do.”

“i’m surprised. niki hated you when this first all happened. to be fair, so did i.”

“i feel like you don’t really have room to hate me,” schlatt says. “i betrayed them just as much as you did.” and oh, shit, that was probably not the right thing to say-

but eret actually laughs. “i know,” they say. “and all of them except wilbur and tommy have forgiven me for it.”

“i respect it,” schlatt says with a shrug. “you followed your morals. you wanted power, and you got it. you didn’t care what the sacrifice was.”

“you respect it, i regret it,” eret shrugs. “still. i figured they would all hate you, and here i have tubbo telling me with the brightest grin on his face that you’re his father and suddenly niki and george are both moving in, and if you get my sister on your side, well- i must say, i can see that you’re making quite the president.”

schlatt nods and tries not to let on how much that means him. eret seems to get it anyways.

“you’re already starting to see them as family, aren’t you?” eret asks. schlatt lets out a laugh and nods.

“yeah, i guess i am.” and goddamnit, he is- all of these damn kids are capable of taking care of themselves, but he wants to take care of him. maybe it’s because he missed so much of his real son’s life, that now he’s adopting four more kids on top of that, but-

“hey, you know what,” he says suddenly. “do you wanna start coming around for dinner? i know the kids would love to have you and i’m sure it’d be nice for you to get out and about every once in a while.”

eret gives him an amused look. “sure thing, mister president. i’d love to.”

“awesome,” schlatt says. “leader to leader, i look forward to getting to know you more.”

he stands up and holds out a hand. eret shakes it with a grin on his face.

“parental figure to parental figure, i look forward to it as well.”

Chapter Text

they get the results of the paternity test two days later. schlatt can’t even bring himself to open it- he just slaps the envelope down in front of tubbo at breakfast. everyone else continues eating, used to random mail deliveries throughout the day. tubbo stops what he’s doing and stares at it.

“is this…” he starts, then trails off. schlatt just nods. his heart is caught in his throat, jesus. it’s not like this changes anything- he’s already vowed to treat this kid as his own no matter what. some stupid dna test isn’t going to alter that plan. but this feels important, this feels like it would be confirming what both his heart and his brain are telling him, this feels like he would finally be able to give the son he abandoned a proper home.

tubbo opens the envelope. schlatt looks over his shoulder as he carefully slides the paper out, then looks away. tubbo is silent for far too long, so he looks back to see the kid holding the paper against his chest.

“well?” he asks. tubbo looks up at him, his expression unreadable, and then breaks into a beam.

“it’s an affirmative, dad ,” he says, and schlatt nearly bursts into tears. tubbo shows him the paper and sure enough, there it is, saying one president j schlatt is indeed biologically tubbo underscore’s father. tubbo stands up and nearly tackles schlatt into a hug, and he just hugs his boy back as tightly as he can.

“what’s going on?” quackity asks after a moment, sounding a little more than confused. schlatt figures since everyone’s gathered for breakfast now’s as good a time as any to tell them all. tubbo beats him to it.

“schlatt’s my dad,” he says proudly. proudly. holy fuck, the kid sounds proud to be related to him.

“we know,” fundy says dryly through a mouthful of cereal.

“no,” tubbo says with a laugh, and that sends a whole new spiral of thoughts, does the kid call him dad when he’s not around? what-

“just got the dna test,” schlatt says to stop himself from continuing down that path. “the kid’s officially mine.”

there’s silence for another moment, and then the entire table bursts into congratulatory remarks. everyone seems genuinely happy for them, which makes schlatt genuinely happy, and god, he hasn’t felt this happy in a long time.

“you know what,” he says, because he’s in such a good mood. “everyone take a day off. i think we deserve it.”

which is why three hours later finds him sitting in the backyard of the white house, sunglasses firmly over his eyes, living in blissful silence. he and the kid had been talking for nearly two hours before tubbo got a message on his communicator from tommy and decided to go visit pogtopia. he has no idea what the rest of his cabinet is doing, but he made them promise they’d all stay safe, which led to several eye rolls.

the quiet is nice. being outside is nice. he changed into a large sweater and more comfortable jeans, and wearing clothing that isn’t a suit is really, really nice. the autumn air feels beautiful, and ender above, he’s the luckiest man in the world, isn’t he?

“schlatt?”

and there go his dad instincts. every nerve in his body stands on end, every hair raises, hell, his goddamned horns tell him to turn the fuck around right now. he practically throws his sunglasses to the side as he turns back to the doors to see fundy standing there. the fox hybrid is clutching his hat in his hands and his ears are turned downward. he looks like a nervous wreck, in all honesty.

“hey, kid,” schlatt says immediately. “what’s up?”

“i don’t- i don’t want to interrupt your day off,” fundy stammers out, and nether below, he looks like a little kid. a scared little kid who was forced to grow up way too fast, and schlatt wants to do a lot of both legally and socially unacceptable things to whoever made him have that look on his face.

“you’re not interrupting anything,” he says as reassuringly as possible. he swings his legs down and pats the seat next to him- it’s a long beach chair he dragged out of somewhere, plenty of room for a second person to sit. fundy slowly walks over, sits down, and stares off into the distance.

“you gonna talk to me, or do you just want company?” schlatt asks after a moment.

“i saw wilbur,” fundy replies immediately. “i was out hunting, because i haven’t had time to do that in a while, you know? and i guess i must’ve gotten too close to pogtopia, and i don’t even know where pogtopia actually is, but- wilbur came storming out of somewhere and he froze when he saw me, and then he just- he yelled at me to leave. he yelled at me to get out, said he didn’t want me there, and-”

fundy pauses and takes a deep breath.

“he didn’t even look like wilbur, you know? he didn’t look like my dad. he looked scary, like he’d gone crazy. and he just kept screaming at me, and he’s never screamed at me before, and-”

fundy cuts off with a gasp for air. he’s got tears in his eyes and he looks goddamn terrified and oh, shit, schlatt knows what this is, this is a panic attack, the kid’s about to have a panic attack-

“fundy,” he says calmly. “hey, fundy, breathe with me, okay? take deep breaths, match my breathing-”

he takes slow, purposeful breaths, and he can see that fundy’s trying his damn best to replicate them. but he’s still gasping for air, choking on his own tears, and he buries his head in his lap and shakes his head.

“fundy, can i put my hand on your back?” schlatt asks, and he waits for fundy to nod before he moves. he tries to rub soothing circles and he doesn’t know how well it’s helping until fundy sits up. he lets his hand fall. the fox hybrid isn’t crying anymore, but his eyes are still red. his breathing seems to be returning to normal.

“thank you,” he says. he takes another deep, shuddering breath, and schlatt’s heart breaks a little bit. “i’m sorry, i didn’t want to ruin your day-”

“hey, hey, hey,” schlatt says quickly, shaking his head. “you didn’t ruin anything, okay? i’m always here to help.”

“thank you,” fundy repeats, offering a small smile. “seriously, dad, you’re good at this stuff.”

they both freeze.

“what did you just call me?” schlatt asks, eyes wide. holy shit, fundy just called him dad, ender and nether and everything holy and unholy, this kid thinks of him as a dad, did he just pick up another semi-official kid, what the fuck-

“dad,” fundy says meekly. his ears are pulled back again and his face is red. “i’m so, so sorry-”

“don’t apologize,” schlatt says firmly. “you are my son now. no take-backs, sorry, you called me dad so i am now your dad.”

he’s trying to say it jokingly, so that fundy knows he can still take it back, but fundy offers him a shy grin.

“alright,” he says. “thanks, schlatt. that means a lot. to have a father that wants to be one, i mean.”

schlatt is absolutely going to beat the fuck out of wilbur. but that’s not a right now problem, and he’s not going to get fundy involved in that. so he reaches out and ruffles the kid’s hair, then puts his cap back on his head for him. schlatt feels very dad-like doing so. it’s a good feeling, he decides.

“go take some more time to yourself, yeah?” he says. “and maybe stick to manberg territory for the rest of today. for safety.”

“for safety,” fundy repeats, and with that he goes back into the white house.

it’s nearly lunchtime, so schlatt follows, turning the opposite way to head toward the kitchen. he can hear noise coming from inside but figures it’s just someone else getting lunch- he is not expecting to catch tubbo and tommy in the middle of a food fight.

“oh,” tubbo says, lowering the hand holding a potato. the kitchen is a fucking mess, honestly, and both kids are covered in food, but other than the brief terror flashing across their faces they both look like they were having fun. “hi, dad.”

“don’t let me stop you,” schlatt says, slipping around the mess to grab himself an apple and some of niki’s pastries. “have at it.”

“you’re not mad?” tommy asks bluntly. “that i’m in your house?”

“why would i be mad?” schlatt counters with a grin. “you make my kid happy, so you make me happy.” and if wilbur is going crazy, god knows what tommy’s been going through, stuck with him day in and day out. “you’re welcome to be here as much as you want. i was planning on reinstating your citizenship anyways.”

“really?” tommy asks, looking confused.

“really?” tubbo asks at the same time, looking excited.

“course,” schlatt shrugs. “hell, i’ll do it right now. tommy innit, with the power invested in me by the people of this great country, yada yada yada, i hereby reinstate your citizenship to manberg. you’re welcome to come and go as you please.”

“holy shit,” tommy says. “i mean, thank you, i-”

“not a problem,” he shrugs again. “just don’t make a mess, yeah? of the country, not the kitchen, i don’t care about the kitchen and you’ve already ruined it anyways.”

he slips out of the room without waiting for a reaction, but he does pause in the hallway when he hears both kids whooping for joy. fundy passes by, looking much better, and gives schlatt a thumbs-up.

he smiles to himself. yeah, today’s a good day.

Chapter Text

tommy stays for dinner.

if anyone is surprised that he’s there, none of them say anything. the kitchen is cleaned up by the time schlatt returns, and the two boys are helping niki make dinner. schlatt helps them finish everything up. quackity and fundy arrive at the same time and they both greet tommy like his presence is a completely normal thing. george stops and stares at him for a moment, but seems to brush it off easily. dinner feels even more like a family than usual.

eret arrives halfway through with an entire cake for dessert and they welcome him to the table eagerly. everything seems perfect. everything seems right.

“you’re welcome to stay the night, tommy,” schlatt tells the kid when they’re all pitching in to help clean up. “we can get a room for you if you want, or i’m sure you could stay with tubbo.”

“really?” tommy asks, surprise etched across his features. schlatt laughs.

“stop looking so surprised when i do nice things, kid,” he says, and oh god, there’s another one of them that he’s calling ‘kid.’ “i’m not evil.”

“i know,” tommy mutters. schlatt can see something in his gaze, and he directs the kid out into the hallway. tubbo sends him a glance, and schlatt tries to communicate as best as possible to give them a moment. tubbo nods.

“tell me what’s up, kid,” schlatt says. “seriously.”

“wilbur,” tommy blurts out. “he’s practically gone crazy. he- he keeps going on about how we might as well be the villains, and if he can’t have l’manberg- manberg- then no one can, and he’s scaring me, honestly, and-”

tommy stops and slaps a hand over his mouth.

“i’m sorry,” he says, and his tone shifts back to something detached, impassive. “i didn’t mean to vent at you.”

“it’s okay, kid,” schlatt says. “even if wilbur’s painting me as the villain- well, sounds like he might be going down that path. how’s techno?”

“not around that much,” tommy admits. “and when he is he just encourages wilbur. techno just wants chaos.”

schlatt can relate. for a long time, he wanted chaos, and he wanted to be in control of that chaos, hell, up until a month ago he was still feeling that way. and now- now he just wants to keep his family safe. all of them.

tommy is tubbo’s best friend. tommy and tubbo grew up together, as brothers, and schlatt is going to do anything to keep tubbo happy. so he may as well extend his family to the feral gremlin child that his son chooses to hang around with.

“tommy,” schlatt says. “i know i just reinstated your citizenship today, and i know you probably don’t like me still, but- if you’d like a permanent place in this white house, i am completely willing to give it to you. if you feel unsafe, i’ll provide protection. whatever you need.”

tommy looks- confused. like he still doesn’t get why schlatt’s being nice, almost like- almost like he thinks he doesn’t deserve kindness.

“why?” tommy asks, and fuck, schlatt’s gotta come up with a good reason so the kid doesn’t think he’s soft, just in case he goes back to wilbur and says schlatt cares more about his family than anything else, that’s a weakness-

“because tubbo cares about you,” he says. “which means i care about you.”

tommy looks like he’s considering it. alright, he’s almost there, what’s his final selling point, he’s a business man, he can do this. what does tommy care about? tubbo. tommy cares about tubbo.

“either way,” he adds nonchalantly. “tubbo’s horns are growing in, you know that, yeah?” tommy nods. “they’re gonna hit the worst stage of growing any day now, and i’m sure he’d like to have you there with him when they do. i can provide some comfort, but i know that he cares the most about you. so if you’d like to just stay a few days and think it over-”

“yes,” tommy says immediately. he clears his throat. “yes, please.”

“awesome,” schlatt says. score. another successful business proposal. “do you want your own room, or-”

“i can share with him,” tubbo interrupts. schlatt and tommy both startle and turn to see tubbo standing in the doorway. “sorry, i totally listened to that whole conversation. why didn’t you tell him about wilbur almost hitting you, tommy?”

“wilbur almost what?” schlatt growls. tommy’s eyes widen.

“see!” tubbo cries. “i told you, he did the growly thing! you’re part of the family now!”

the kid rushes forward and grabs tommy’s hand, and the two run off down the hallway, leaving schlatt standing there, mostly confused by what the hell just happened.

“kids,” eret says wistfully from the doorway. schlatt chuckles. “fundy told me what you did for him earlier. thank you.”

“it was no problem,” schlatt shrugs. “i did what the kid needed.”

“you’re just adopting them left and right, huh?”

“watch it, or i’ll try and adopt you too.” he says it with a warning finger, meant to be a joke, and eret throws their head back and laughs.

“i’d like to see you try.”

“that sounds like a challenge!”

“it’s not!”

schlatt smiles and waves him off. the rest of the night is spent in relative peace. schlatt goes through some of the paperwork he ignored all day, but he does it in the lounge, with quackity looking over his shoulder and eret, niki, fundy, and george playing some complicated card game he doesn’t understand.

the game ends when niki slams her cards down with a cheer and everyone else groans. schlatt figures that’s enough paperwork for the night and sets it aside. quackity stretches next to him with a yawn. the others start picking up their cards, and schlatt feels his communicator buzz in his pocket.

he pulls it out to a message from sapnap, of all people, that reads, ‘just saw wilbur heading toward manberg territory. be careful.’

his heart sinks. fuck. that’s not good. that’s a very, very not good thing.

“wilbur was seen heading for our territory,” schlatt says loudly, standing up immediately. the room freezes. “quackity, fundy, i want you guys to find tubbo and tommy, okay? make sure they’re safe. george, you’re with me. niki-”

“i’m coming with you,” niki says, her gaze set. he nods.

“i’ll come, too,” eret says. “for diplomatic purposes.”

“great,” schlatt says. “where are the kids?”

“here!” tubbo yells, rushing into the room, tommy hot on his heels. “sapnap messaged me too!”

“me three,” quackity says, pulling out his communicator and frowning at it. “five minutes ago. he’s probably close.”

“kids, stay here,” schlatt growls. “tommy, how many lives does wilbur have left?”

“one, he died in the final control room and punz killed him after the exile,” tommy says nervously. “why?”

“because i don’t want to be the one to take his last.”

he can see the fear on the faces of half the room, the determination in the others. they’re going to be perfectly fucking fine. he’ll see to it.

“hunker down,” he orders. “don’t let anyone into the room unless you hear one of us, alright? don’t try and follow.”

“got it,” quackity says. fundy gives a firm nod. schlatt stalks out of the room, george, niki, and eret hot on his heels.

wilbur is waiting for them outside of the white house’s main doors, like he’s expecting them, like he wanted to be seen on his way here. he has a smug look on his face, but when he sees who’s all approaching them out of the doors, that cockiness morphs into fury.

“where’s my brother?” he snarls.

“good to see you too, wilbur,” schlatt says with a dry laugh.

“niki?” wilbur demands. “you’re with him now?”

niki doesn’t move, doesn’t let her gaze waver. wilbur scoffs.

“tommy’s in the house,” schlatt replies, trying to get wilbur’s attention back on him as quickly as possible. no one is getting hurt tonight. except maybe wilbur, because schlatt really, really wants to punch that look off his face. “my son’s hitting the worst of his growing pains soon, and they both figured it would be beneficial for tommy to be here when that happened.”

“your son?” wilbur says, looking surprised for a moment. just a moment. “who-”

“tubbo,” schlatt says proudly. “took a dna test and everything.”

“and i’m sure he hates you for it,” wilbur says, his voice twisting. he’s trying to get into schlatt’s head. it’s not going to work. “he keeps coming to pogtopia-”

“and you don’t trust him,” schlatt interrupts. “meanwhile, tommy keeps visiting us here, and i’ve reinstated his citizenship, because he’s proven trustworthy. i would’ve done the same for you, if i knew you weren’t going to try and overthrow me.”

wilbur looks affronted. schlatt continues.

“that’s the only reason i kicked you out, wilbur. because i knew even if i was democratically elected, you wouldn’t stand for it. and now here we are. you’re scaring your kid brother to the point that he’s coming to the tyrant you keep preaching against.”

something akin to rage passes across wilbur’s face, and he draws his sword. schlatt doesn’t even blink, he still has three lives left, he’s stared down worse, and wilbur charges forward.

his sword meets another with the clash of metal. schlatt glances to the side to see both george and niki on either side of him, their own swords raised, both blocking wilbur’s.

“wilbur,” niki says calmly, pulling her sword out of the fray. wilbur drops his sword, but george keeps his raised in front of schlatt protectively. “i don’t care how pissed off you are. but you are not going to kill schlatt. you are not going to take tommy. other people make choices, and you can’t change that. if tommy wants to stay here, you can’t force him to do anything.”

“and what if i do?” wilbur says with a laugh. “what if i do force him to come back with me?”

“you’ll have to go through every single one of us to get to him,” eret says. they have their own sword drawn, and they’re holding it loose at their side. schlatt thinks that somehow it looks even more threatening than it would if they had it raised.

“fine,” wilbur spits. “fine. i’ll leave. but mark my words, schlatt, you’ve made an enemy that you don’t want to mess with.”

“fine,” schlatt echoes. “get out of here, wilbur. if i see you on my territory again, or if you hurt a member of my family again- i won’t stop myself from taking your last life.”

he finishes this with a severe look, communicates to his old friend exactly what they both know: how much fundy is hurting, how much they’re all hurting. schlatt isn’t going to let wilbur fuck with his family again.

wilbur leaves without another word, his sword dragging at his side. something about his stance is too confident, but schlatt puts that thought to the side.

“thank you,” schlatt says, looking at each of the three of them in turn. they all nod back at him, sheathing their weapons, and schlatt ignores the sinking feeling in his gut in favor of the proud beating of his heart.

Chapter Text

tubbo’s horns hit the worst stage of growing the next morning. schlatt knows it’s coming because he distinctly remembers what it was like for himself; waking up with a headache, reaching up to itch at the top of his head and pulling his fingers away bloody. so when he sees tubbo stop in the doorway of the kitchen, scratch his head quickly, and then frown, he knows exactly what’s up.

“tubbo,” he says, trying to keep his voice down. “is your head hurting worse than normal?”

“i- yeah,” tubbo says. “how did you know?”

“is this what you were talking about?” tommy asks, panicked look crossing his face. “it’s gonna get bad?”

tubbo mimics the panicked look, eyes wide, and schlatt rushes to close the door as softly as he can. “sit down, kid,” he orders gently. “do you want tommy to stay for this?”

“yeah,” tubbo says, nodding quickly, then wincing.

“okay,” schlatt says. “i’m gonna make you a mug of something hot, you gotta eat now because you’re not gonna want to for the next couple of days.”

“okay,” tubbo agrees. tommy sits next to him and carefully rests a hand on his back, and tubbo leans into the touch. yeah, schlatt remembers getting insanely clingy with his sister, the kid’s probably going to latch on to whoever’s nearest.

“here,” he says, passing tubbo a mug of hot chocolate and sliding a second one toward tommy. “your horns are about to hit the worst of it.”

“yeah, i assumed as much,” tubbo laughs. he winces and reaches up toward his head.

“try not to touch it,” schlatt advises. “you’ll just make it hurt more. i’m not gonna lie to you, kid, it’s probably gonna be one of the worst things you’re ever gonna go through.”

a look of fear flashes across tubbo’s face. shit, fuck, should he have sugarcoated it? he really didn’t want to sugarcoat it and the kid to get mad at him later.

“i’ll be real with you, if ram hybrids are left on their own for this shit, a lot of them lose a life.” jesus christ, jschlatt, stop talking, he thinks, stop talking now, this is not going where you want it to.

“you are no help,” tommy announces, clearly having picked up on his thought process.

“sorry,” he says dryly. “i’ve never had a kid before.”

“it’s okay, dad,” tubbo says. “keep going.”

well, fuck, okay, he still gets a blast of serotonin every time the kid calls him dad, so he guesses he can keep going. list some positives, schlatt, positives-

“luckily we’ve got a lot of medicine here that can help take most of the pain, but it’ll probably be around tomorrow that not even medicine is gonna be much help. that’s when your horns are gonna break the skin, and it’s not gonna feel good.”

“i kind of figured,” tubbo says with a little chuckle. “and after that?”

“after that it’s just your skin adjusting. by the fourth or fifth day it should just feel like a normal headache. i was back on my feet on the fourth, but most are up as normal on the sixth.” he was up on the fourth because he had to be, because he had no other choice, he and his sister desperately trying to keep themselves alive- he’s so, so glad he’s able to be here for his son.

“okay,” tubbo says. “anything else i need to know?”

“i got clingy,” schlatt says with a shrug. “don’t get embarrassed about it.”

“he’s already clingy,” tommy points out.

“am not!” tubbo protests. “you’re the clingy one!”

“i totally am not!”

“clingy innit!”

schlatt shakes his head as the two bicker back and forth for another minute. they don’t stop as he goes to the kitchen to try and grab as much filling food as he can, but they keep their voices low even when they’re arguing. he didn’t even know that tommy knew how to be quiet, and yet here he is, keeping his voice down to prevent tubbo’s headache from getting worse.

“here,” schlatt says, dumping the food on the table. “eat as much of it as you can.”

the two kids take this as the all-clear sign to dig in, and schlatt goes to the door to ward off any of the other kids that make it down.

“meet me in the meeting room,” he says to fundy, the first to arrive. “grab everyone else if you can, and call eret.” fundy nods and turns back around, and schlatt sees him pull out his communicator to get in contact with the king. schlatt waits in the doorway a while longer, watching the hallway, before tubbo tugs on his sleeve and he turns back around.

“it’s getting worse,” tubbo says quietly. he’s clutching tommy’s hand, and the other kid looks worried. “like, exponentially worse.”

“okay,” schlatt says quickly, ushering him out the door. “we’re gonna go back to your room, okay? is that where you feel safest?”

tubbo nods. schlatt hurries them down the hallway and back to the kid’s room. it’s a complete mess, a combination of tubbo’s things and some of tommy’s strewn about everywhere, but schlatt gets the kid as comfortable as possible. tommy clambers up on the bed next to him, stationed in a defensive position.

“i’m gonna get you some painkillers and some sleeping pills, okay?” schlatt says. “and i’m gonna turn the lights off.” he does just that, and when tubbo’s done taking the pills, he settles in and closes his eyes. “i’ll be in the meeting room real quick, and then i’ll come right back,” schlatt tells tommy. he holds up his communicator and shakes it. “buzz me if you need anything.” tommy nods, and schlatt closes the door as softly as possible.

everyone else is gathered in the meeting room, and they quiet down when he arrives.

“hey, guys,” he says, clearing his throat. “so, when ram hybrids grow their horns in, there’s a period of about a week where it gets really, really bad. tubbo just hit his, so he’s gonna be out of commission for the next week. and- by really bad, i mean like, there’s gonna be a lot of screaming starting probably some time tonight. so if you want to find new places to stay for a bit-”

“how can we help?” niki interrupts. he should’ve known they wouldn’t want to leave- all of them look determined to be here. he tries not to smile. god, he loves this stupid little family.

“i’m gonna try and be with the kid all hours,” schlatt says. “the kid’s a lot like me, and for me having family around was best during this shit. tommy’s with him right now, but tommy’s a kid, too, and he needs rest from all the shit he’s gone through. so i need-” he takes a deep breath. “i need shifts, i guess, of his family. just sitting with him. he’s gonna get all clingy and shit, and i know you guys make him feel safe.”

“we can do that,” eret says with a firm nod. george looks hesitant.

“i’m not sure i’m the best choice for that,” he admits when schlatt gives him a look prompting him to speak.

“just as well,” schlatt shrugs. “i’m not leaving his side. i need people running our country. quackity- can you step up as acting president?”

“me?” quackity asks, eyes suddenly wide.

“you’re my vice,” schlatt reminds him. “here, i- niki, eret, and fundy, if you guys want to go see tubbo real quick before he passes the fuck out for, like, the next couple of days-”

the three of them leave the room quickly, and quackity and george both remain.

“george, start writing a statement to give the people from me,” schlatt says. “something along the lines of hey, tubbo’s my son, hybrid things are going on, i’m gonna be missing in action for a hot second taking care of him but i’ll be back soon.”

“got it,” george says with a quick nod, following the other three out of the room. quackity is still staring at the wall opposite him, his face blank.

“schlatt,” he says, his voice soft. “i’m not sure if i can do this.”

“sure you can,” schlatt replies. he’s standing off to the side; schlatt puts a hand on his shoulder and half-drags him to the head of the table. “you ran for president, didn’t you? you must have some confidence in yourself. and even if you don’t, i’ve got complete confidence in you, kid. you can do it. i believe in you.”

oh, there’s another one of them that he’s calling kid. quackity takes a deep breath and then nods firmly.

“i can do this,” he says.

“you can do this,” schlatt reiterates. “it’s only for a couple of days. and if anything goes wrong, i’ll be right here.”

“thanks, dad,” quackity says, taking another deep breath. he freezes on the inhale. oh my god, schlatt thinks, i’ve acquired another child.

“no problem, kiddo.” there, that way if it was a slip of the tongue quackity can take it back, they’ll just ignore it, pretend it never happened-

“i heard fundy called you dad, too,” quackity chokes out, and holy fuck, he’s crying, shit, schlatt does not know how to handle this situation- he opens his arms and quackity dives into them, and jesus, schlatt is not cut out for this. 

okay, maybe he is.

“i got you, kid,” he says. “if you need a dad, i’ll be a dad.”

saying it out loud feels cathartic, almost.

“i’m sure you didn’t anticipate this when you became president,” quackity says, pulling back slightly, and schlatt laughs, loud and hard.

“i didn’t,” he admits. “but i think i’m getting used to it.”

“good,” quackity says with a nod. “because you’re not getting rid of us now.”

“no,” schlatt agrees. “i’m not.”

he doesn’t think he’d trade this for the world.

Chapter Text

sure enough, it’s halfway through the night that the screaming starts.

schlatt is half-asleep in a chair he pulled up next to tubbo’s bed. he and tommy have both been waiting all day, but luckily, the sleeping pills mostly didn’t wear off, which just meant a few more hours of relief for tubbo. he woke up once, his face immediately screwing up in pain, and was barely awake for long enough to down a few more painkillers before he was falling back asleep.

now, schlatt is being startled into consciousness as tubbo cries out, both hands flying to his head. the shriek has tommy reeling away, and the kid nearly falls on the floor. he looks at schlatt, positively terrified, and schlatt waves him down.

“tubbs?” he says cautiously. “you okay?”

“it hurts ,” tubbo groans. he sits up, and schlatt shifts so he can sit on the bed next to tubbo. his son falls forward against his chest, and he wraps one arm around him in a tight embrace. with the other, he reaches out to pry tubbo’s hands away from his hair. his fingers are sticky with blood, and that’s how schlatt knows the worst is going to hit now.

“okay, kid,” he says. “it’s gonna be okay.”

“you’re a terrible liar,” tommy tells him, scooting forward so he can rest a hand on tubbo’s back. “hey, big man, scale of one to ten?”

“maybe a seven?” tubbo mutters. he shifts his position and then lets out a string of curses so explicit schlatt doesn’t know if he’d ever come up with them. he tries to hold back the laughter and the pride bubbling in his chest, because that’s his kid right there, swearing like a sailor.

that’s also his kid in an insane amount of pain, schlatt knows full well his pain’s gotta be around a nine by now, at least.

tubbo holds his position, with his head pressing into schlatt’s chest, for the next several minutes, occasionally letting out a few expletives. tommy continues to look at schlatt worriedly, and schlatt just tries his best to be comforting.

“how long is this going to go on?” tubbo asks, his voice quiet.

“it’ll be over in a day or two,” schlatt promises. he can feel tubbo sag further against him. “don’t worry, kid, i got you. you’re safe.”

“it hurts, ” tubbo complains again, sounding like he’s close to tears, and schlatt doesn’t blame him.

“tommy,” he says. “see if you can get some painkillers, yeah? maybe some more sleeping pills?”

tommy nods quickly, giving tubbo’s back a soft pat before leaping off the bed and out of the room. once schlatt is sure he’s down the hall, he looks back down at tubbo.

“kid, we’ve gotta move you,” schlatt says. “i’m gonna shift you back onto the bed, and it’s gonna hurt, okay? but you’ll be more comfortable.”

“okay,” tubbo chokes out, and sure enough, he practically screams as schlatt carefully gets him back to a seated position so he’s resting against the headboard. tommy comes bolting into the room a moment later, terrified look on his face and pill bottles in hand.

“is he okay?” tommy asks.

“i’m gonna be real honest, kid,” schlatt says. “he’s gonna be doing that a lot the next day or two. if you want to leave-”

“i’m not going fucking anywhere ,” tommy snarls, looking offended that schlatt would even suggest such a thing. he thrusts the pill bottles toward the president and carefully clambers back onto the bed and takes tubbo’s hand.

“you wanna try swallowing these, tubbs?” schlatt asks, and tubbo nods, then curses. he manages to take the pills without much of a problem, but schlatt can see him gripping tommy’s hand so tightly that he’s practically shaking.

a moment after schlatt’s set the bottles aside, niki appears in the doorway, poking her head in with a concerned look.

“has it started?” she asks, and schlatt nods. wordlessly, she sits down on the bed next to him and rests a hand on tubbo’s leg. “we’re here, tubbo,” she murmurs. “nothing’s going to happen to you.”

and schlatt knows, damn well, that nothing is going to happen to his kid. not while their whole family is here, in this house, ready to protect him to the last. seeing the determined look on tommy’s face as he grips tubbo’s hand, the way niki is drawing comforting circles on the blankets, how tubbo’s eyes close and he looks at peace- he knows they’ll be okay.

it’ll be a long road to get there, though- no one in the white house sleeps the rest of the night, not when every time tubbo shifts in his sleep he lets out choked-off cries. through the window, the sun rises and sets again, and schlatt doesn’t leave tubbo’s side, he doesn’t sleep, doesn’t eat, just sits next to his son and keeps a tight hold on one hand. niki and fundy have to practically drag tommy out of the room to get him to eat and get some rest, and he’s protesting the whole way. eret takes his place at tubbo’s other side, and the two parental figures exchange several worried looks.

“i’m not really a hybrid,” eret murmurs. “i’ve never had to go through any of this. i can’t even imagine-”

“he’ll be okay,” schlatt interrupts, not knowing how to say that he appreciates the sentiment, but it’s unnecessary. god, he wishes his sister were here, she’d know what to do, she’d know how to handle this- he cuts off that train of thought before it goes anywhere else. “how are things in the outside world?”

“quackity’s handling everything wonderfully, as expected,” eret says. “the people were very understanding after the speech he gave. everyone loves tubbo.”

as they should, schlatt thinks. as they should.

tommy comes back a few hours later and looks incredibly offended that he’s been replaced. schlatt is worried, for a moment, that there’s going to be problems between him and eret, but the kid merely sits down next to eret and rests his head on the king’s shoulder. eret, for their part, looks incredibly surprised.

“did you sleep?” schlatt asks, and tommy nods.

“how much longer?” he asks, and schlatt doesn’t need to ask what he’s talking about.

“maybe a day, max,” he answers. “almost there.”

“i’m gonna have really cool horns when it’s done,” tubbo mutters. all three of them gathered startle- they hadn’t realized he was awake. “don’t- fucking fuck holy fucking shit fuck- ”

“stop trying to sit up!” schlatt orders, and tubbo completely ignores him. instead, the kid heatbutts his chest, and schlatt sighs.

“don’t baby me, i’m fine,” tubbo says.

“you are not!” tommy hisses. “you absolutely are not fine, big man, lay back down right now, you’re going back to sleep-”

tommy manages to force tubbo to lay back down with more swearing from both of them, eret watching with a look that’s a mixture between concerned and amused. schlatt sighs again.

he passes out at some point after that, and when he wakes up, his head is resting on the bed and he’s still gripping tubbo’s hand. tommy is laying at the foot of the bed, wide awake. eret is asleep in one corner of the room, fundy and niki both pressed against them. quackity is asleep with his head by tubbo’s other hand, and when schlatt lifts his head and turns around, george is standing guard by the door. he nods solemnly, and schlatt nods back.

“everyone’s good?” schlatt asks, turning to tommy. tommy nods.

“you were awake for the worst of it, i think,” he says. “the sun’s about to rise, you were only out for a few hours and tubbo was mostly sleeping.”

“alright,” schlatt says, looking back to his son. he reaches out and smoothes back his hair, stopping when he hits two little horns. tubbo shifts and murmurs something unintelligible, and schlatt smiles. “yeah, the worst is past,” he tells tommy.

“how do you know?” tommy responds.

“he didn’t scream when i touched his horns. he’ll still have a headache for a few more days, but he’ll be okay.”

tommy nods, then pitches forward so he can lay down next to tubbo. quackity mutters a swift curse as tommy nearly lands on his head.

“watch it,” he hisses. “oh, hey, schlatt.”

“hey, quackity,” schlatt says. “has everything gone alright the past couple of days?”

“running perfectly,” quackity confirms. “i don’t know how you do it, though.”

“mad skill,” schlatt responds with a grin. “how about you, tommy? how are you doing?”

tommy bites his lip, like he’s debating what to tell them. schlatt raises an eyebrow.

“i don’t know if i want to go back to pogtopia,” he finally confesses. “you guys- you have a solid family here, you know? and wilbur wants to destroy that, and i don’t… i don’t want him to. i want to be part of it, i guess.”

“you have family,” quackity points out. “wilbur’s your brother.”

“wilbur hasn’t been my brother in a long time,” tommy says with a harsh laugh. “i don’t know who the man in that ravine is, but- it’s not wilbur. and techno’s just as bad, he’s so ready to burn the whole place down, i don’t-”

tommy stops, takes a few deep breaths. “wilbur’s got the placed laced with tnt.”

“what?” schlatt and quackity hiss at the same time.

“he got it from dream, sapnap told me, i didn’t think he’d done anything with it,” george adds from the doorway. “do you know where, tommy?”

“no, he wouldn’t let me near him while he was planting it,” tommy says. “he says techno heard something about a festival-”

a festival. the one that schlatt mentioned to fundy and quackity offhandedly what must’ve been two weeks ago. he was going to let tubbo plan it, let it be his thing. he still is, only they’re going to have to search the whole country for tnt first.

“george,” he orders. “start a few search parties. tear the ground apart if you have to, just make sure the tnt is out of here.”

“on it,” george confirms. quackity goes to wake up the others, explaining the situation quickly, and they all rush out of the room. tommy looks like he wants to follow them, but schlatt gestures for him to stay.

“thank you for telling us that,” he says sincerely. “i know betraying your blood family is difficult, but i appreciate you giving us the chance to save our nation. and- if you really don’t want to go back to pogtopia, that’s perfectly alright. there’s always a place for you here.”

“really?” tommy asks, and schlatt nods seriously.

“really,” he confirms.

the kid seems to hesitate for a moment before he lunges across tubbo’s legs to drag schlatt into a hug. schlatt laughs and awkwardly pats him on the back.

“thank you,” tommy murmurs.

“‘course.”

tommy pulls back just as quickly, clearing his throat, looking a bit embarrassed that he just did that. this kid has a father, schlatt thinks, you are not going to adopt him too.

god, he really has gone soft. he doesn’t think he’d change it, though. these damn kids are worth it.

Chapter Text

tubbo is up and moving four days after the worst of it hits. if schlatt had his way, he’d be in bed for at least another few days, but tubbo insists on getting back to work. still, for the remaining couple of days, schlatt swears he received more hugs than he has in his whole life. the kid brought clingy to a whole new level- not that anyone seemed to mind. even tommy stopped pretend-complaining about it after a bit.

tubbo’s been displaying his new horns with pride. schlatt sees him reach up to touch them every few minutes, like he’s in awe that they’re actually there.

“how long before they look like yours?” he asks as soon as he sees them in the mirror for the first time.

“not for a couple of years, kiddo,” schlatt replies, ruffling his hair.

they hold a meeting on the day that tubbo returns to work, mostly welcoming him back. george tells them that they’ve found ten stacks’ worth of tnt, and tommy confirms that’s how much dream gave wilbur. schlatt also lets tommy announce that he’s planning on staying in manberg, at least for the time being. 

“speaking of,” schlatt says from the head of the table, leaning back with his feet propped up. “do you want a job, kid?”

“sure,” tommy shrugs. “why not?”

a few looks are exchanged around the table- they all know by now that schlatt initiating people into his cabinet is basically the same as him signing formal adoption papers. nobody says anything, however, and quackity updates them on everything else that’s been going on. it’s not much- now that they’ve got the new, actually government-sanctioned systems in place, things have been running smoothly.

“well, then,” schlatt says, clapping his hands together. “i had a great idea- i’ve already mentioned it to fundy and quackity, but i think you’ll all like it. how about we hold a festival?”

“a festival?” tubbo asks excitedly. tommy, at his side, looks somewhat doubtful.

“yeah,” schlatt says. “we can hold it next weekend, gives you plenty of time to plan.”

“me?” tubbo asks, pointing at himself.

“i’m putting you in charge, kid. assign the cabinet.”

quackity gives tubbo a thumbs-up. everyone else is smiling encouragingly. god, he loves this stupid little family, this stupid little government, these kids are all so great-

eret, across the room, gives him a knowing look. schlatt doesn’t even know why eret’s still here, the king runs a completely different government, but hey, he’s not telling them to leave, so. if state secrets get out then that one’s on him.

state secrets. yup. a festival is definitely super secretive.

“alright,” tubbo says. “i feel like we’re going to need a lot of security, so george, you can be in charge of that. and food, so niki, if you’d like to be in charge of food- um, fundy, would you like to do decorations? and then tommy and i can oversee everything, plan out the actual events. and quackity-”

“will be doing actual government stuff with me,” schlatt interrupts with a kind smile. “alright, guys, you’ve got your orders. we’re having a festival.”

the room takes that as its cue of dismissal, and most everyone leaves the room. schlatt spies niki muttering to tommy and tubbo and casting a few glances his way, so he makes a note to talk to them about that later. eret hangs back, clearly wanting to say something.

“hey, yeah,” schlatt says, gesturing for quackity to go ahead when he sends schlatt a look. “eret, why are you still here?”

eret shrugs. “honestly, i don’t know. making sure everyone is okay, i guess. you’re sure a festival is a good idea considering the… revolutionaries hiding out in the woods right now?”

“we’ve got security,” schlatt shrugs. “besides, i haven’t had a family in a long time. just wait, i’ll get super defensive, you know me-”

he means for it to come off as a joke, but it’s completely the truth. he’ll defend this family to the death.

eret smiles, looking like they get it. “i’ve gotta get back to my own country now, but let me know if you need anything.”

“of course.” he shakes eret’s hand and then follows them out into the hallway. oh, awesome, he doesn’t even need to go searching for niki and tommy, they’re both waiting in the hallway with tubbo. eret gives niki and tubbo each a hug before they go and shakes tommy’s hand. as soon as they’re down the hallway, the three whirl on schlatt.

“is it true that you adopted fundy and quackity?” niki demands.

“what?” schlatt asks. “how did you even find out about that?”

“quackity told me while you were passed out the other day,” tommy says. “apparently you’re collecting kids left and right.”

schlatt really wasn’t expecting to be accosted about this today, but alright, if that’s where his day is going.

“i’m not collecting any kids that don’t want to be collected,” he says, holding up a hand. “don’t put words in my mouth.”

“are you trying to collect them, then?” tubbo asks, giving schlatt a look that says yes. schlatt sighs. he can’t say no to the kid.

“i think being offered a job is essentially me saying i’m willing to adopt you, yes.”

“i knew it!” tubbo cries, high-fiving tommy. niki, who’s been silent this whole time, looks very judgemental.

“willing to!” schlatt rushes to clarify. “i’m not adopting anyone that doesn’t want to be adopted!”

niki waits approximately ten seconds (schlatt counts) before she nods firmly.

“alright, then,” she says. holy shit, he just scored another kid. “i’m going to go get started on plans for food, tubbo. buzz me if you need anything.”

“will do!” tubbo says, grinning. tommy looks thoughtful.

“look, kid,” schlatt says. “i know you already have a dad. i’m not gonna try and adopt you or anything. your father’s perfectly fine-”

“he’s not,” tommy interrupts. “if he was a good dad, he’d be here, helping us, or something. but he’d probably be helping wilbur, ‘cause techno’s his favorite even though techno isn’t his actual kid.”

oh, alright, where does he go from here, does he adopt the feral raccoon child, what-

“so maybe don’t adopt me,” tommy finishes. “but i’d still like to be part of the family.”

“alright,” he agrees. that’s fine by him. “go get to work, then, kids.”

tubbo beams at him before grabbing tommy’s hand and dragging him off. schlatt begins the trek back to his office, his mind racing.

he knows how to communicate across worlds. it’s not that difficult, really, write your message and send it off and the universe will do the rest. the question is whether he actually does it or not.

he decides it won’t hurt to start. he pulls out a blank sheet of paper and starts it with dear philza.

dear philza. god, he has a lot of things he wants to say to phil, about his own son, about phil’s sons. he settles on something short and sweet.

dear philza,

i don’t know what you’ve heard from your boys, but i am currently the president of the nation they formed. i won this through entirely fair and legal methods (coalescing my votes with those of another party’s), and to my knowledge wilbur has started a rebellion because of it.

i know wilbur. we were friends for a long time. i knew full well that he would attempt to start a coup to overthrow me, because he believes this nation belongs to him. while it is entirely within his right to do so, this nation belongs to the people. not to him.

i am writing to tell you thank you, first of all, because i have found my son. thank you, maybe not for raising him, or being a particularly good father to him, but for keeping him alive. i appreciate it more than words can describe.

secondly, i’m informing you that i currently have your youngest son living in my house. tommy has prevented the destruction of our nation by alerting us to the ten stacks of tnt planted underground by wilbur, technoblade, and dream. additionally, he has told me plenty about wilbur’s current mental state- something which was scaring him to the point of him asking to continue to remain living in the white house with my family and i.

i suppose what i am trying to do is ask you something, and i would like to ask you this: please, for the sake of your youngest son: do not come to dream’s world. i know you will want to help wilbur and technoblade, but please. for tommy’s sake, stay away. continue to let your boys work this out on their own.

i suppose thank you for reading this letter, at least. while i hope i don’t see you soon, i hope you’re doing well out being a hardcore god, or whatever it is you’re doing.

sincerely,

jschlatt

there. that’s a good, solid letter. no way philza can interpret that wrong.

jesus, he’s taking a risk here. but it’s a risk he’s willing to take.

Chapter Text

they hold the festival a week later. the entire country seems to turn out for it, and schlatt spies plenty of people from some of the other countries, too. he doesn’t want to deem it a success before it even begins, but it’s starting to look like that’s what it’s going to be: a complete success.

he’s standing at the base of the podium with quackity at his side, people approaching them to talk and tell him they love what he’s been doing. a few of them are talking to quackity at the moment, so he takes the time to scan the crowd. eret and niki are meandering around near some of the food tables, talking to people that approach them. george and sapnap are standing near each other, overseeing the events. tubbo ended up putting them both in charge of security, a choice that none of them are regretting- there’s been a suspicious lack of both wilbur and dream in the past week.

tubbo, tommy, and fundy are taking turns in the boxing ring, people surrounding them and cheering them on. there are plenty of healing potions in chests nearby, courtesy of a few emergency bunkers and a day’s worth of brewing. schlatt’s attempting to keep an eye on them and make sure none of them get seriously hurt, but that’s difficult when people try and talk to him every few minutes.

“dad!” tubbo cries, and oh, that’s his son trying to talk to him. “it’s almost time!”

right, the speeches. he’s having tubbo give one first, since this whole festival is his little brainchild, and then he’s giving one after. he’s heard tubbo practicing in the mirror every night and he practiced for the cabinet a few times, so he knows it’s going to be incredible. schlatt hasn’t practiced his speech at all- hell, he hasn’t even written one- but he knows it’ll be fine. he’s just gonna say something about how proud he is of everyone and that’ll be that.

“get on up there, tubs!” he calls, and then turns to quackity. “you sure you don’t want to give one, kid?”

“i’m sure,” quackity replies with a grin, following tubbo, tommy, and fundy up onto the stage. niki joins them, and eret takes their place in the front row of seats. schlatt waves george down from his position so he can take the last chair on stage, and schlatt climbs the stairs to stand off to the side.

the people begin to gather, all of them excited to hear what the government officials have to say. schlatt takes in his cabinet carefully- eager, apprehensive, a bit nervous. tommy is scanning the rooftops, as if he’s looking for something. seemingly finding nothing, he gives tubbo’s hand a reassuring squeeze, and tubbo steps up to the podium.

“hello!” he says into the microphone, and the crowd falls silent. “um- hi! welcome to manberg’s first official festival!”

raucous cheers from the crowd, applause from the cabinet. tubbo goes on to talk about how far they’ve come in the past weeks, how pleased he is to have been part of it all, how thrilled he is that everyone is willing to share it with him. schlatt beams at him the whole time.

“so i guess what i’m trying to say is- thank you all. thank you all so much for everything you’ve done for this nation, and everything you’ll continue to do. this was meant to be!”

the crowd bursts into applause again, on their feet, and tubbo practically glows with how hard he’s smiling. he takes his seat, and schlatt steps up to the podium.

“let’s give it up again for tubbo, our secretary of state!” he calls, and waits for the applause to die down before he continues. “i said i was going to do my best to make this country better, and i like to think that with the help of all of you by my side i’ve been doing my best at that. it’s been a long road to get here, and we have a long road ahead, but we’re doing this!”

there’s applause from the crowd, and murmurs from the cabinet behind him. he trusts that whatever the issue is they’ll sort it out. he’s about to continue speaking when the crowd suddenly parts with a gasp.

and oh, shit. that’s wilbur. that’s fucking wilbur, with technoblade behind him, and he looks pissed. which, really, is not good.

“oh, you’re doing it, huh?” wilbur cries. he looks like shit, honestly, even worse than the last time schlatt saw him, with rips in his trench coat and the hair visible under his beanie a complete mess. he’s got his sword tight in his grip and what looks like a detonator in the other hand. technoblade has a crossbow in his hands and an arsenal of rockets at his back. his sword is strapped to his side, and he looks… bored, almost. like he doesn’t want to be there.

schlatt swallows. here they go. he gestures with one hand for the cabinet to get off the podium and sees that most of them are already scrambling into a defensive position, weapons drawn, spread out in front of the podium. the crowd is scattering, sapnap and a few others of the security team attempting to get them out of the great courtyard the podium is placed in. it’s slow going, with buildings surrounding them.

“i say-” wilbur calls. “i say that this is my country. mine, you hear me?”

he presses the detonator in his hands. there are screams from the crowd.

nothing happens.

“we found your tnt, wilbur,” schlatt says into the mic, trying to keep his tone calm, collected. “we got rid of it. you’re not blowing up this nation today.”

“fine,” wilbur snarls. “i’ll blow something else up instead. techno-”

techno raises the crossbow, rocket already positioned inside, and fires it at the podium without a second thought. schlatt dives to the ground just as it explodes, and through his ringing ears he can hear members of the cabinet crying out.

“i’m here for my brother, and i’m here for my country!” wilbur screams, throwing himself forward. he’s lunging at tommy and schlatt is not going to let that happen, but fundy gets there first.

sword drawn, the fox hybrid blocks his father off. he stares him down and wilbur actually pauses, taking him in.

“you’re with the tyrant, then?” he asks.

“he’s not a tyrant,” fundy snarls back. “and he’s more of a father than you could ever be.”

with that, fundy swings forward, wilbur barely managing to parry his strike, and the two lock themselves in a duel. techno’s got another launcher positioned in his crossbow.

“get tommy out of here!” schlatt yells to tubbo, who nods and grabs his best friend’s hand, then runs. techno fires again, exploding the ground below them, and when the dust settles schlatt sees quackity, niki, eret, and george pulling themselves to their feet. tubbo and tommy are nowhere to be seen.

“george!” sapnap calls from across the courtyard. “dream’s here!”

“go handle it!” schlatt yells, and george takes off. he makes his way over to quackity, niki, and eret, all of them with swords still drawn. even the four of them couldn’t take techno and he knows it, but they charge forward nonetheless. techno tosses his rocket launcher to the side and draws his own blade, and the five of them go at it. there’s nothing except the clash of metal and the sting of adrenaline running through his veins, and then time freezes, just for a moment, as something behind him explodes.

it’s wilbur, holding techno’s discarded crossbow. fundy is on the ground, out cold, but clearly still breathing.

“why you-” schlatt starts, and then niki cries out in pain and god, he’s going to kill both of them, he’s going to make them suffer for hurting his family-

“freeze!” wilbur roars, pointing the crossbow directly at schlatt. “or i’ll kill your president!”

time stops. he can hear niki, eret, and quackity panting behind him, and technoblade strolls over to wilbur’s side casually, like he wasn't just trying to kill them.

“you’ll have to do better than that, wilbur,” schlatt laughs. “i’ve still got three lives. i hear you’re down to one.”

he can see wilbur’s finger hesitating over the trigger, hovering in the air, and then he smiles and lets the crossbow fall to his side.

“fine,” he says. “fine. tubbo, get over here.”

“tubbo, no,” he hears niki say behind him. tubbo makes his way out from behind the ruins of the podium, sword drawn. 

and wilbur slowly raises the crossbow and points it at him.

“you fucking bastard-” schlatt starts, the other three behind him speaking up as well, and wilbur holds up his other hand, clearly ordering them to be quiet.

“schlatt,” he says. “you are going to hand the country over to me, or i am going to kill your son.”

“you wouldn’t fucking dare,” schlatt snarls. wilbur looks at him and raises one eyebrow. behind him, techno shifts. he can’t start anything, not like this, not with his son in danger.

“eret,” schlatt says, calmly. he’s going to handle this situation, he’s going to handle it- “please get fundy back to the white house.”

he doesn’t break eye contact with wilbur as the king moves, scooping up the fox hybrid and carrying him off quickly. he can hear quackity and niki shifting behind him.

“dad,” tubbo says. “don’t do it.”

“don’t worry, kid,” schlatt says. “it’s gonna be okay. wilbur, please. you can kill me, but please don’t hurt my family.”

“your family ,” wilbur sneers. “you think this little group of- of misfits is a family? this was my family, and you took that like you took my country-”

while he’s monologuing, schlatt dives forward. techno cries out a warning, but it’s too late, and schlatt manages to tackle wilbur to the ground and knock the crossbow out of his grip. quackity and niki both start forward, going for technoblade, but with one sweep of his sword he knocks them both back. jesus, it must be enchanted, the way it sends them flying through the air. schlatt makes sure wilbur is down and rushes over to quackity, who’s closest, helping him up off the ground.

and then something behind him explodes.

time stops again.

there’s his kid, there’s tubbo, crying out in pain. and there’s technoblade, rocket launcher in hand, loading a second one.

“techno!” schlatt roars, and techno pulls the trigger again.

there’s an explosion of color, and when the dust clears, tubbo is gone. he’ll respawn back at the white house, schlatt knows he will, but that’s still one of the most painful deaths he can imagine. and that’s his fucking son.

“you shouldn’t have done that,” schlatt snarls. techno, still looking apathetic as ever, turns and fires another rocket straight at him.

the ground explodes, and schlatt can feel himself falling. he hears quackity crying out in pain, and then he hits the ground. the stars are the only thing that exist for a moment, just a moment, and then his vision clears and his back erupts in pain. he looks around and there is dust everywhere, gunpowder, coloured ashes drifting, and quackity is gone.

fuck, that’s two that have died now, and he’s not going to let there be a third, he’s not, he needs niki to get out of here, he needs to keep her safe, he needs to find george and makes sure he’s safe, too, and he needs to be there when tubbo and quackity respawn, he needs-

he tries to pull himself off the ground, and it doesn’t work, his limbs collapsing underneath him. he can see techno help wilbur to his feet and he can’t move, it hurts too much, but he’s nothing if not determined. he manages to get himself halfway to a seated position, and then he hears wilbur say, “finish it.”

“no!” niki cries out, and he can hear the sound of metal clashing together and his vision blurs for a second, but it looks like there are two of niki stopping techno’s sword from falling. and then he hears a voice he didn’t think he’d hear for a very, very long time.

“and just what in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

that’s his sister, that’s his fucking sister, holy shit, she’s here, she’s actually here, but how-

unless he’s just imagining it. but he doesn’t think he’s imagining it, not by the way she and niki work together to go up against techno, driving him back in a way that not even four of them could do before, and he knows they’re both filled with rage.

“get out of here!” dream’s voice yells, and there’s the sound of several sets of footsteps coming their way. techno and wilbur both turn and run, and schlatt falls back down. all he can see is the sky, for just another moment, and then there are several faces swimming in his view.

“schlatt?” george’s voice calls. “are you alright?”

“schlatt, you gotta get up,” niki says. “we need to get you up, okay? it’s gonna hurt-”

“i didn’t think this is what our reunion would be like,” his sister mumbles in his ear as he cries out in pain. they’re trying to get him up, to get him back to the white house, and he knows he’s going to pass out. “i’ll keep them safe for you, yeah?”

and then everything goes black.

when schlatt wakes up, he’s in a comfortable bed. there are bandages wrapped around his chest and the taste of a healing potion in his mouth.

“you’re lucky that there were healing pots by the boxing ring or you would’ve died on the way in,” niki’s voice says. schlatt practically launches himself out of bed, ignoring the sudden burst of pain, and george catches him.

“where’s tubbo?” he demands. “quackity?”

“both still respawning,” niki says calmly. “fundy’s doing okay. tommy managed to get hidden, but he’s furious.”

“how long have i been out?”

“an hour, maybe?” george says. “we didn’t think you’d wake up this fast.”

george is covered in dried blood. he doesn’t look pleased.

“you fight dream?”

“yeah. sapnap’s keeping guard down the hall, he’s with us now.”

“alright. alright. i need to- i need to see everyone else,” he says, attempting to get past george and niki. a voice pipes up from the doorway.

“you need to rest.”

that’s- so he wasn’t imagining it. that’s his sister, she’s here-

“puffy,” he says with a grin, and george allows him to brush past so he and puffy can hug each other tightly. “get bored of being a pirate?”

“never,” she replies. “an old friend told me my pseudo-kid and my brother were fighting each other.”

schlatt looks at george, who shrugs. niki flushes red.

“oh, you two know each other,” schlatt says, mostly distracted. the only thing on his mind is getting to his kids, he needs to make sure all his children are okay- “yeah, no, dream’s being a bitch, puffy. hey, can i go see my son now?”

“yeah,” puffy says. “he still hasn’t woken up from the respawn, but- yeah.”

before he can even leave the room, sapnap appears in the doorway.

“hey,” he says. “there’s a kid here claiming dream sent him. i searched him, he’s safe, but he’s saying he just wandered over here and he doesn’t remember anything.”

oh, schlatt thinks, here we go.

Chapter Text

the kid, it turns out, is called ranboo.

“i have short term memory loss,” is the first thing he says to schlatt. “so don’t expect me to remember the answers to anything that you ask me.”

great start, schlatt thinks. but he’s very clearly an actual, legitimate kid- probably a little younger than tubbo, if schlatt had to guess, even though he towers over all of them. he’s wringing his hands anxiously, and schlatt can clearly see that he’s worried he’s going to be turned away.

“i, uh, i do have this note from someone called tubbo telling me to come to l’manberg if i ever needed anything,” ranboo offers. “i don’t actually. remember anyone called tubbo. but according to my memory books we were very good friends.”

schlatt runs a hand through his hair. jesus, these kids are going to kill him some day.

“why didn’t you start with that?” he asks, taking the note that ranboo offers him. sure enough, that’s tubbo’s handwriting. “tubbo’s my son. any friend of his is a friend of mine.”

“don’t listen to him, you’re not his friend, he’s going to try and adopt you,” niki says quickly. schlatt pretends to be offended as she holds out a hand to the new kid. “i’m niki. you look like you’ve come a long way. would you like me to get you settled into a room? i’m afraid you’ve come at a rather hectic time.”

“that would be nice, thank you,” ranboo says, deflating a little bit. “and thank you, um, mister president.”

“it’s just schlatt,” he responds, waving a hand. “get comfortable, kid, they’re right, i’ll probably try and adopt you.” no shame in admitting it. ranboo nods and follows niki down the hall.

“so he’s good, then?” sapnap asks as he approaches, puffy and george close behind him. schlatt gives them a thumbs-up.

“headcount,” he says. “how’s everyone doing?”

“fundy is recovering, eret’s with him,” george reports immediately. “quackity and tubbo are both still respawning, at last check they’re both in their beds but neither of them has woken up yet.”

“thank god,” schlatt mutters. he doesn’t want any of them spending more time in the void than they have to.

“tommy’s sitting with tubbo. karl is with quackity,” sapnap adds. “i hope you don’t mind, but, uh-”

“karl can move in,” schlatt snorts. “that’s fine by me. you can, too, if you want to, i don’t even care anymore, i’ll probably bully eret out of that castle of theirs, too, let’s just get everyone in the white house- i need to see my son.” he cuts off suddenly, paternal instincts screaming at him.

“alright,” sapnap says, eyes wide at the offer. “thanks, schlatt, yeah, um- there hasn’t been any sign of anyone hostile, so.”

“so we’re probably good,” schlatt finishes. “george, i want you to go get cleaned up. you’re covered in blood and i don’t know if it’s yours.”

“i took a healing potion,” george mutters. “i’m fine.” okay, yeah, they’re going to talk about that later.

“i’ll go with him,” sapnap says, grabbing george’s arm. george yelps as sapnap carts him down the hallway, leaving puffy and schlatt alone.

“you’ve got some government here,” puffy snorts. “a bunch of orphans you adopted?”

“like you’re any better,” schlatt retorts. “at least my kids aren’t criminals.”

“oi! my kid isn’t a criminal! and he’s not my kid!”

“could’ve fooled me.”

puffy wraps an arm around him as they make their way quickly down the hallway in the same direction as niki and ranboo. she manages to convince him to stop in on fundy first, since he’s the one that’s actually awake.

he’s in his room, sitting up. eret is sitting cross-legged on the bed, and they both jerk up when schlatt enters. puffy hovers in the hallway nervously.

“hey,” eret says with a soft smile, then, “puffy!” they rush into the hallway to hug her, and schlatt sits on the edge of the bed next to fundy.

“how are you doing, kiddo?” he asks. fundy shrugs.

“i’ve been better,” he answers truthfully. “i’m- i’m really mad at wilbur, honestly. i kind of want to kill him.”

“i respect that,” schlatt shrugs. “i’d advise against it, but i respect it. how are you doing physically?”

“physically i’ve also been better,” fundy says dryly. “what about you? are you taking care of yourself?”

“always,” schlatt replies, and they both laugh. god, he’s so fucking sore, and he knows even with the healing potions it’s going to hurt for a good couple of weeks. he’s probably going to refuse any more, they have a limited supply and the others need them more. he doesn’t even want to imagine what everyone else is going through, fundy got blown up and quackity and tubbo both died, for ender’s sake-

“schlatt, get out of your head,” fundy says. “i’m sure everyone else wants to talk to you. i’m okay, really.”

“if you’re sure,” schlatt says, giving fundy’s hand a squeeze. eret returns to their place, and schlatt meets puffy in the hallway. “didn’t know you knew eret.”

“we’re old friends,” puffy answers with a glint of mischief in her eyes. they go to quackity’s room next, since it’s closest. sure enough, his vice president is tucked carefully into bed. there’s an unfamiliar figure sitting in a chair, head down on the bed and clutching quackity’s hand, likely asleep. schlatt knows this is karl, who quackity rambles lovingly about at length. he smiles. it’s cute. they’re cute.

quackity isn’t awake yet and there’s a small scar on his chin, but other than that, he looks alright. of course, schlatt can’t see any other injuries, and he knows that getting blown up is a fucking awful way to go.

which is why he’s anxious to see his son. puffy all-but shoves him into tubbo’s room, and tommy jerks up instantly from where he’s gripping tubbo’s hand.

“he’s still out,” tommy croaks out. schlatt can feel all the breath leave his lungs.

that’s his kid, there on the bed, lightning scars criss-crossing his entire face and neck. his breathing is heavy and god, schlatt knows he’s going to be in a lot of pain when he wakes up, but he’ll be okay. they’ll all be okay.

schlatt takes a seat next to the kid. after a while, he hears puffy take off down the hall. he and tommy remain in their silent vigil. they’ll be okay, he keeps repeating in his head. they’ll all be okay.

Chapter Text

not to be That Person and post one of these, but twitter told me to get my clout, so i’m getting my clout.

after everything that happened with schlatt, i decided i wasn’t really comfortable with continuing to write a fic painting him in a positive light, even if it’s very much canon!schlatt. i’m going to be anon-ing this fic in a few days, so it’ll still be up, and maybe some day if things change i’ll come back to it.

that being said- this fic got so much attention. thank you guys so so much for continuing to comment, leave kudos, and read my silly little words. if you’d like to see more, consider a user sub! they’re much appreciated and i write a lot of different things, so there’s probably something that’ll interest you.

again, thank you guys for everything. user sub to me andthentheybow. i want clout. /lh