Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

An ill wind was blowing through Las Nevadas...he should have taken it as an omen, but as the pungent, musty aroma was most unpleasantly familiar, he took it only as a harbinger of the man who stepped into his path...again...a persistent obstacle to him moving on...

A persistent reminder of things he'd lost, things that had been taken from him...and things that had never been his, in the first place.

"What the fuck do you want, Wilbur?" Quackity glared at him, his damaged lips twisting into an expression of disdain that he knew looked like an evil sneer, because of his injuries...injuries dealt by Wilbur's family, blood or not.

Wilbur stared at him...no...truly contemplated him, perhaps for the first time since he'd returned. He was thin, but as well built beneath his suit - why the bloody hell hadn't he at least given up the suit, the full-body replacement for a collar Schlatt had forced onto everyone in Manberg - as his pristine, gleaming city, built up from the sands he's placed himself, one grain at a time. Gone the soft edges of youth, he finally had the air of a leader...but also the sorrow of one, indelibly etched into his flesh: going from Schlatt's pet to Dream's tormentor had clearly been anything but an easy journey, for him...its most obvious physical sign impossible for him to hide. While it marred Quackity's beauty superficially, he wore the scar that ran the length of one side of his face - showing off teeth both missing and not; putting a streak of white in his midnight dark hair, uncomfortably close to the one in Tommy's, though far more obvious against black instead of golden blonde...completely obliterating one of his once warm, chocolate hued eyes... - like a badge of honor, proof that he'd survived...even thrived, despite everyone else...despite...him...

Quackity's patience was clearly at an end, the sneer becoming a full scowl, his halved eyebrow raising as much as it was still able, under Wilbur's scrutiny. "I thought I made it clear that you weren't supposed to set foot in Las Nevadas..." He walked around him, his footsteps purposely loud against the asphalt, as he turned to stand between Wilbur-freaking-Soot, destroyer of cities, and the rest of Las Nevadas...his city...his home...

When Wilbur turned to face him again, his missing eye bored into him even more than the good one that remained, sparking and smouldering with hatred... He sighed. "Quackity...this is the last time. I promise I won't darken your desert sand with my shadow, again..."

"What's the catch? What's your angle, this time?" Quackity's arms crossed over his chest.

"What..." He blinked, at the cavalier dismissal at his attempt to wax poetic.

"Last time you demanded my attention, you were trying to kill my horse in front of me, and ended up killing Ranboo. And the last time you made an impassioned speech, near a city..." He motioned towards L'Manberg's crater. "...you tried to take everything with you..." There was a very slight tremor to his voice...was it fear?

"This time, I'm only taking the clothes on my back." Wilbur blurted.

Quackity's eyes widened. "What..." If it was possible, he looked even more incensed.

"I'm leaving, Quackity...going back where I came from, so this place...so you...can be done with me...but..."

"Done with you...you're...leaving? Just leaving?" He finally spluttered, his hands balling into shaking fists.

"After I say my farewells...and...try to make amends..."

"Amends...so...you're just...saying you're sorry, then running away? Leaving me again?!" Flushing first with anger, he managed crimson, as he realized what he'd said. "Leaving...us again...what about Fundy? He just got you back..."

"That's not what you said first..." He permitted himself a brief smile...a genuine if uncertain one, instead of his normal sardonic smirk...but it quickly faded, as he wrapped his arms around himself as if he was in his father's front yard, instead of Quackity's. "...Fundy...doesn't want to see me again...he's made that...quite clear." His own voice caught painfully in his chest.

"He...what?" Quackity shook his head, holding up a hand. "Wait...is this...some sort of attempt, to play on my emotions...because using your son is...low, even for you..."

"He jumped, Quackity." Wilbur sighed, sitting cross legged on the pavement...in the middle of the street...

...leaving Quackity staring down at him, his anger turning very quickly to concern. "He what?"

"I tried...I tried to make things up to him...when bloody Eret tricked me, into it...another betrayal..." He sighed, placing his head in his hands. "...but one that I both deserved, and needed, I suppose...at least I know he won't be missing me, again...it...it does...make leaving easier, knowing that he wants me gone..."

Quackity blinked, still staring down at the same man who'd literally placed himself on a pedestal, the first time he'd intruded back into his life...now at his feet, looking like a broken effigy of himself. "That...can't be right...you're his father..."

When Wilbur looked up, tears were running down his face, making tracks in the dust. "Yes, well...my father killed me, that day, because I asked him to...because...you're right...I was running away...the same way that Fundy ran away from me...except he's stronger...so much stronger...he at least did it himself..."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Quackity reached for his communicator, but hesitated - who the hell could he even call, for this? What even was this?

"He jumped, Quackity...my son...jumped, into the ruins of the city where I gave birth to him, one more thing I've destroyed, because he...he'd rather die, than spend another moment with me." Wilbur's head bowed, again. "So...I'm leaving..." This time, the brief smile was bitter. "I'm going home...leaving him to his...and you to yours...I won't trouble you, again." He froze, as Quackity's hand appeared, in his downcast view.

"Come with me, Wilbur...I don't think...this is the place, to be having this conversation." His voice had lost it's anger, replaced with...fatigue, perhaps?

"What..." He found himself reaching for Quackity's hand...but stopped, just as their fingertips touched.

"You said you wanted to make amends..." Quackity's voice went from carefully calm and neutral, to mildly hopeful.

"Is that why..." Wilbur nodded, taking his hand: slowly raising his eyes to meet Quackity's, he pressed shaking lips to his fingers. "I am sorry, Quackity...for all that I've done..."

Quackity's fingers wrapped around his wrist. "I said: not here." Carefully pulling Wilbur to his feet, he dragged him quickly into the casino, and from there, his office. "Sit." He motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk...as he surreptitiously locked the door, and carefully pocketed the key.

Wilbur perched on the edge of the seat, as if afraid to damage it. "Are you sure you don't want me on my knees?"

"Now you're just being dramatic." Quackity retrieved a bottle, and two glasses.

"I'll try to bottle it up, if you prefer...I came to apologize to you..."

Quackity poured two very stiff drinks, handing one to Wilbur. "First off...let's start with: are you serious, about Fundy?" He perched on the edge of his desk, instead of behind it, keeping himself within arm's length of his guest.

Wilbur stared into his glass for all of a second, then downed it in a single gulp, before nodding, and staring into the empty vessel as if willing it to refill.

"Sheesh..." Quackity breathed, under his breath, setting his own glass aside, to refill Wilbur's. "So...he really jumped?"

Wilbur's shoulders started to shake: it was his voice that betrayed the soft sobs for what they were. "Tommy begged Dream not to bring me back...Ranboo was absolutely right, to be worried, when he discovered I was back...I cost him his life...but Fundy...my own flesh and blood...he took his own life, just to get away from me..."

"And you said...Eret told you, to go talk to him?" Pulling out his communicator, he began tapping at it, as if checking messages.

"I was trying to find Niki...Eret sent me to Fundy, instead..." Wilbur drained his glass again.

"What the fuck, Eret..." Quackity took a long draught from his own drink, before tapping some more.

"No...they meant well..." He drained his glass, again. "I thought...I thought things were going well...but apparently...he endured as much as he could, then...decided that another minute in my presence was a fate worse than death...so I'm leaving, so he never has to see me again."

"Leaving for where?" Quackity paused for a moment, before refilling his glass, again.

"I'm going back home." He smiled, slightly. "There's no one left there I care about, for me to damage, with my presence."

"As opposed to the people you'll damage, with your absence?" He took another drink, refilling it despite it not being empty yet.

"Aren't you listening - Fundy killed himself, over me..."

"What about Tommy, then?"

"Tommy's better off, without me, and we both know it. You can move him into Las Nevadas...in fact...I'd consider it a personal favor, even if I've no right to ask you, for anything."

"Of course I'll take him in...if he wants to come live here...I already made that offer to him, remember?" He sighed. "You took care of me, in Pogtopia...it's the least I can do, especially if you're leaving him, again."

"I'm not leaving him, I'm freeing him from my presence. For his own safety."

"You're leaving him."

A ghost of Wilbur's normal smirk gave Quackity the time he needed to steel himself for Wilbur's next words. "Earlier, you said I was leaving you..."

Crimson faced, Quackity finished his drink this time, before refilling it. "I thought you were here to apologize, not fucking start shit with me, again."

"I am, but...exactly what all do I need to apologize for? It would seem that I don't even know the full impact of my own actions..."

Eret pored over the newest tomes in the museum's collection, trying to glean what useful notes could be taken from the rambling scribbles: even contained, the Egg was still a threat...enough so, that she jumped when her communicator buzzed, breaking the studious silence. "What on earth...?" Staring at the screen, here eyes widened until their glow threatened to obscure the text message on the screen with reflected glare. "Quackity?!"

[Wilbur is in my office, talking about leaving the SMP. Did he really say the same thing, to you?]

She sighed, shaking her head as she responded. [Yes...he came by to apologize, say he was leaving, and give me a book.]

[What book?]

Glancing towards the chest in which she'd placed it, to minimize temptation - her own, and her ferrets' - she sighed. [I don't know - he's asked me not to open it, for a bit.]

[Okayyy...did you really send him to talk to Fundy?]

Her brows knit. [Of course...they needed to mend their relationship, before he goes. Fundy deserves that.] What the hell was going on, in Las Nevadas?

[Eret...you need to go check on Fundy. Now.]

With a sigh, she marked her place in Sam Bucket's journal, and began placing the books back in the bookcase - obviously, there was something more urgent happening, which needed her immediate attention. [What's happened?]

[Wilbur is claiming that he jumped into L'Manhole.]

Eret nearly dropped the communicator. [What??? He could have been badly injured...] She froze, as she realized what Fundy's questions might have stemmed from, the last time they spoke.

[That was apparently the point...please go check on Fundy: I can't leave Wilbur alone like this, and apparently, Fundy jumped to get away from him, so...]

"What...!" [I'll go check on him.] She'd sent Wilbur to him...if Fundy had really jumped, just because of Wilbur's presence...was it her fault?

[Thanks.]

Eret barely paused long enough to retrieve her armor, and one other thing, before running out of the museum.

Foolish was about to raise his fist to knock on the office door, when he heard Quackity's slightly raised voice coming from inside: pausing, he leaned down to listen, before interrupting.

"You never consider the full consequences of you actions, Wilbur..."

"That's why I'm trying to apologize."

"You're supposed to consider the impact of your actions before you make them."

"Sometimes it's easier to apologize, than to ask for permission."

"When have you ever asked for permission, to find out?!"

"So should I not apologize?"

"Oh, you should absolutely apologize, asshole..."

"I'm trying to! How...how did this go so much easier, with Eret, than anyone else?"

"Eret's been trying to apologize ever since the final control room, Wilbur..." He sighed. "Should I ask, what's in the book you gave her? Before she reads it?"

"If I was going to say anything angry to her, I'd say it to her face...I just...want to leave her with something tangible, because you're right, she's...she's been beating herself up for that, ever since...when she truly thought it would end...all of this..." He chuckled. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, that you care more about her - after all, her betrayal delivered Manberg firmly to Schlatt...and you..."

"Do you really think that's how I wanted to win?" Quackity's voice was sad, and a little angry...but not out of control...yet... "Wilbur...you saw...what he did to me...when I ran away from him...when I sided with you..."

"I'm sorry, Quackity..." Wilbur's voice was suddenly worried, almost desperate. "I...shouldn't have brought that up..."

"I'm not having a flashback, Wilbur, relax...Sapnap got me over that, mostly..." His voice became almost too soft to hear. "And...Karl..." The pain in the whisper was almost tangible, to someone who'd been watching him try like hell to hide that he was mourning the loss of a friend: Foolish shifted, uneasily...did he need to intervene? "...after you...left..."

"I died, Quackity..."

"You took the fucking easy way out, Wilbur!" A glass broke - the fact that he knew it was only a glass, gave Foolish pause...Quackity had been in this mood, before... "You left us all staring at the smoldering ruins of the home we all built, and fought for, and some of us died for...you weren't there, to pick up the pieces...or defend them, when your father, Technoblade and Dream took them away from us again...you weren't there for Tommy, in exile...or for me, when I needed you..."

Foolish took a carefully quiet step back. The conversation was clearly headed somewhere very personal, and he didn't need to hear it.

"When did you need me?" Wilbur's voice held a note of...not pleasure, in Quackity's pain, but an almost wistful tone?

"Every...damned...day...after you left..."

"Nope..." Foolish spun around and walked far enough down the hall that he wouldn't overhear anything that wasn't loud enough to demand his intervention.

"You do know that he's a grown adult, now...right, mate?" Philza stared at Eret, one eyebrow cocked at her across his kitchen table.

"I know...but this...isn't about him being a child...it's about him needing a family." She sighed. "Philza...did you know...did Wilbur perhaps mention...what happened, when they spoke last?"

"Wilbur and Fundy?" Philza shook his head. "I didn't know they had. I hope it went well."

"I'm sorry to say, it didn't." She met his startled gaze, and took a deep breath. "Apparently...Fundy...jumped to his death, in front of Wilbur."

"WHAT?!"

"...and both of his deaths may be my fault, making it very much my duty to try and preserve the one life he has left."

"How..." Philza let out a long sigh. "Wilbur is my son, but I know...I know exactly how aggravating he can be...and since he's come back..." He shook his head. "...I can believe that he might have said or done something, to provoke Fundy...but to that? And how could that be your fault, in any way?"

"Wilbur came to speak to me...to make amends...and afterwards, he was going to look for Niki, but I sent him to where I knew Fundy would be, instead...I thought they should talk..."

Philza shook his head. "It's not your fault, mate...not this time."

"He came to me the other day...and I showed him the papers - those papers...Philza, he was giving things away..."

"Eret." Phil stood, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Fundy is a grown man. If he chose to take his own life...then that's on him, whether he did so to spite Wilbur or not. It is not...and I will emphasize: his actions are not your fault, nor your responsibility." Sighing heavily, he sat back down. "Unless you plunged a sword through him yourself, his blood is not on your hands...well, at least not the fresh blood..." He signed the document in front of him, and pushed it across the table. "...but if it will help you get over that guilt to do this, then I won't stand in the way."

"Thank you, Philza." Eret stood, and placed the papers carefully in a protective envelope.

"Out of curiosity...exactly how did you find out, about all of this?"

Eret sighed, and pulled out her communicator, bringing up the conversation with Quackity. "Quackity sent me this."

Scanning it, Philza nodded, grimly. "At least they're both in good hands...or soon will be..."

"You could go to Las Nevadas..."

Philza gave a short laugh. "I don't know who'd welcome me less - Wilbur, or Quackity. Especially if they're having the kind of conversation I think they are." He nodded towards the remains of Pogtopia. "If you're serious about checking on him...you'd best get going." Waving through the window as Eret left, he turned towards the refrigerator, and the picture still lovingly displayed on it. "What are we going to do with that boy..."

The clouds that had been gathering as she traveled to Philza's very remote home seemed to burst as she stepped back out of the cozy cabin: Eret gave an exasperated sigh. "Of course, it's raining." As soon as she could, she ducked through a nether portal, enjoying the reprieve from the persistent precipitation, and how fast the heat evaporated its remains. It also shortened the journey...for all the good it did.

Fundy was clearly in the process of removing his belongings, likely to evade Wilbur, Eret realized. Eyeing the single remaining chest with a sigh, she sat on it to wait for him to return.

"If you needed me so much...why did you push me away, as soon as I refused your gilded cage?" Wilbur slammed the last that was in his glass, angrily thrusting it out for more.

Quackity glared at him, as he poured another double from the bottle he'd resorted to drinking from, after throwing his own tumbler. "Do you really need to ask...you've been there, Wilbur...you've seen the...the fucking crater you made, of L'Manberg...or, more accurately: that your father and Technoblade helped Dream make...I guess you...tenderized the stone, a little, for them?" He took a large gulp from the bottle, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve, conscious that some of the alcohol had trickled out around the injury. "I've lost enough homes...enough people...and...and you're just proving that I was absolutely right...!"

"How, exactly?! I'm trying to apologize, for that..."

"So you can run away again, with a clear fucking conscience!" Quackity shouted. "You had a chance, Wilbur...you could have rebuilt with us...and maybe...if you had...your father and Technoblade wouldn't have helped Dream...I wouldn't have been alone...we wouldn't have been..."

"You keep correcting yourself, but not explaining."

"You left me, Wilbur! After I risked everything...sacrificed everything...lost everything...I did what you asked...you saw...you saw some of what he did...how it effected me...you even had to fucking rescue me from him..."

"Do you want me to apologize for saving you?!"

"I want you to apologize for leaving me at the same time he did!" Quackity's eye went wide, allowing carefully restrained tears to escape: taking several swallows from the bottle, he turned away from Wilbur's shocked expression. "Yeah...I said it...at least Schlatt didn't have a choice, checking out on me, leaving me to clean up his mess...hell, he probably didn't even remember about the...about...what I told him..." The arm not attached to the hand clutching the bottle in a shaking, white knuckled grip, wrapped around his midsection. "But you...you fucking...left us. You took back the thing you got us all to believe in...to fight for...and you fucking left us."

"But you rebuilt..."

"It wasn't the same...it was never the same, again...never safe...no longer built on ideals...we recreated it out of spite and stubbornness, not hope." He turned enough to glance at Wilbur over his shoulder. "You killed that, when you killed yourself. When you had your own father kill you...God...Wilbur...do you have any idea...have you apologized to him, about that?"

"Because his wings were injured? Of course..." Wilbur was standing halfway between his chair, and where Quackity was standing.

"No...though you owe him for that, too..." Quackity took another long drink: Wilbur reached out, hesitantly, as if not certain what he was reaching for...he passed him the mostly empty bottle, and pulled out his flask. "You made him hold you as you died, Wilbur...you're a father...and you should understand, but you don't..."

"We've already established that I'm a horrible father..."

"The closest I was able to come to being a father...I fucked up, too." He turned away, again. "I built a city, just like you...I tried...I tried to have a family, but..." He chuckled, mirthlessly. "...it was obviously never meant to be..."

Wilbur winced, at his choice of words...and their despairing tone. "Quackity..."

"Tell me something, Wilbur..."

"What?"

"What the hell am I doing wrong?"

Wilbur stared at him, uneasily. "What do you mean? Your city's thriving..."

"I get why Eret left...I do...and that was on me...and Schlatt died - thank God...but..." He turned to meet Wilbur's gaze. "I built this place, for my fiancés...only to get forgotten, then outright rejected..."

"That's simple - they're idiots..."

"And what's your excuse?"

"What?"

Quackity took a half step closer to him. "What's your excuse? Ever since you came back, you've been trying to get my attention...the way we used to flirt...I thought...maybe...but now, you're leaving, again...leaving me, again...alone..."

"Quackity, I don't..." Seeing the other man's bewildered, hurt expression, he caught himself, quickly rethinking what he'd been about to say. "I don't know what to say...I wanted to...make amends, not make things worse...I'm sorry I've hurt you...yet again..."

"Is it my face? Is that it? I mean...you ignored me, even before Technoblade left me like this...except...you didn't kill me...you resisted hitting the button, when I was in the room...but...obviously not because you give any more of a shit than anyone else...then or now...I guess at least...you didn't pretend to care, just to fuck me..." His voice was bitter.

"I would never..." Wilbur stared at him, concerned.

"Even if I wanted you to..." Quackity turned beet red, as he said it.

"What?"

"Damn it, Will...you are the most...clueless motherfucker..." He started to storm past Wilbur towards the door, fumbling for the key.

"I...clearly...?!" Wilbur reflexively grabbed his arm on the way past. "Now who's leaving..."

"You are! Again!" Angry tears streamed down his face. "Because I'm not worth sticking around for, to you, either!"

The pain in his expression was like a punch in the gut - he'd been trying to make up for the pain he'd already caused, not create so much more...staring at Quackity's quivering lower lip, noting the damage, but also how soft the untouched half promised to be... Wilbur leaned down, using his grip on Quackity's arm to pull him in. "If this is what it takes to prove to you that you're worth so much more than any of us have given you..." He kissed him.

Quackity's startled, angry shriek faded slowly into a moan, as he melted into Wilbur's embrace.

Chapter Text

Wilbur woke to sunlight in his eyes, as Quackity rolled over, his wing no longer shading the other half of his bed...

Wing? Bed?!

He started to sit bolt upright, stopped only by his suddenly pounding head: it took him a long moment, before he managed to stagger to his feet, and towards the bathroom. There was no doubt of what he'd done, the night before: he was hung over; his clothes were nowhere to be found; and he and Quackity had been entwined enough to leave an arm and a leg angrily tingly, from having been laid on all night...and...

He sped through a shower, then stared at his reflection in the mirror...which was more than half covered in sticky notes with various memos, as if Quackity used it more to remind him of things he needed to do, than to look at his appearance...because...of course he did...he'd mentioned his appearance, last night...it was hazy, but Wilbur remembered the look in his eye... How had he missed that...was it just because Quackity quite appropriately had the best poker face of anyone he'd met? Or...was it because he'd missed so much...

Quackity was right: he'd left everyone else behind to deal with the consequences of his actions. Philza, with his wings literally destroyed trying to protect him...right before he made that sacrifice for nothing; Tommy, to be tortured and eventually murdered and revived by Dream; Niki and Fundy, to feel abandoned...apparently Quackity, himself, feeling worse than that...and then Technoblade had killed him, leaving horrific scars...and his fiancés had...what, left him over them?

He should really pay Kinoko Kingdom a little visit, before leaving...glancing out the door at Quackity, still sprawled on the bed, his white wings - white, now, instead of yellow, and large enough that he should be able to fly - he sighed. No, even if they didn't take it out on him, he'd blame himself...and it would bring up L'Manberg for him, all over again. But if he stayed...Quackity would always worry, about him doing the same to Las Nevadas - the home he'd created for himself...even if he'd created it for others, too, at least they'd never filled the streets, the buildings, the very stones with the kind of pain he'd instilled into L'Manberg.

Leaving was the right choice, for everyone.

He only had one more person to visit...once he found his damned clothes...

Piled neatly just inside the door, they'd been cleaned. And ironed. And repaired.

Glancing back at the bed with a raised eyebrow, he wondered if that was just part of the hospitality staff's assigned duties, or if Quackity had specially instructed them...though he couldn't have, could he? He'd had no time, between dragging him off of the streets, and them drunkenly having at each other...then drunkenly having at each other, in a very different way... Wilbur reddened, as he quickly pulled on his almost pristine clothing. What the hell had he been thinking...wouldn't this make him leaving worse, or...was it actually the closure Quackity had clearly craved?

That was it, surely: Quackity would know he wasn't undesirable...he wouldn't feel rejected, now...right? Locating some of Quackity's personal stationery, he penned a quick note, leaving it on the bedstand with aspirin and water. With a final, gentle kiss to Quackity's upturned cheek, he cracked open the door of the suite, made sure he wasn't observed, and left in search of Tommy...observed only by green eyes that sparkled with anger, as they watched him leave Quackity and Las Nevadas on the screens of the security monitors.

A week later, Foolish cursed Wilbur again, as he carried a barely revived Quackity away from a smoldering, TNT damaged Las Nevadas: Quackity had been irritable and distracted since Wilbur left, which was probably a large part of how Dream, Purpled and Charlie had got the drop on him...of course, even he hadn't seen Charlie as any sort of threat, much less an assassin... Having the friend Purpled had already murdered in front of Quackity be the one to kill him was a special sort of cruel: he was seriously rethinking helping Dream at all, much less in regards to Quackity. While Quackity might have left Dream scarred physically, he hadn't taken a life, and what Dream had just done would likely make Quackity's last canon life a dark prelude to whatever Limbo awaited him.

He needed to make certain Dream and Purpled hadn't left any traps behind; that there wasn't any unexploded TNT left behind; that the buildings were structurally sound enough to be entered and repaired...but first, he had to make certain Quackity was safe enough to recover as much as he could. and hidden from further attempts. And there was one person that he trusted with that...the person that was the reason he knew how very hard Quackity was going to take Charlie's involvement, when he woke.

"Eret...please be here...I need you!" He ran into the castle, keeping Quackity carefully clutched to his chest.

"Foolish?" Eret entered the throne room from the other side, took one look at Quackity, and ran forward to meet him - followed by Fundy.

"What the hell happened to him?" Fundy asked, staring at the bloodied, sand and soot covered, barely responsive man.

"Dream happened. He and Purpled came to get revenge, by blowing up Las Nevadas..."

Eret's eyes widened, the added glow enough for it to show from around her sunglasses. "No wonder he's not snapping out of it, despite the healing potion...or was it not enough..."

"Eret..." Foolish gave her a long look. "There was no potion...because he died."

Fundy's eyes widened. "He lost a canon life?" Reaching out, he hesitated, then took one of Quackity's dangling hands. "No wonder he's like this..."

"It's worse than that, Fundy...Charlie's the one, who killed him."

The fox hybrid's eyes widened. "Charlie? He came back? But...why would he...he was like...Quackity's version of what Tommy is, to Wilbur..."

Quackity made a pained sound, leaning into Foolish's embrace as his hand tightened around Fundy's.

Foolish gave him a warning look. "Please don't say that name, in front of him, either...I...really don't want to explain, so just...please..."

"I fully understand his reaction." Fundy's voice was full of disgust. "Believe me, I do..."

Foolish gave him a sympathetic, knowing look. "I know."

Fundy stared at him, his eyes widening at the unspoken acknowledgement of his own recent death.

Eret glanced from Quackity to Fundy, then back. "Bring him, Foolish - you were wise, to bring him here: Dream won't expect it, considering our past."

The room into which she led them was well appointed: at Eret's gesture, Fundy lit white candles in their sconces to softly illuminate it, revealing a perfectly made bed; a dresser; a nightstand...all in gleaming amber hued wood, that went with the dusty turquoise hue of the sheets and curtains. Tall stalks of white and light pink bell shaped flowers were arranged in vases near the window, their colors matching the throw pillows on the nearby turquoise velvet upholstered chaise lounge.

Foolish managed a slight smile, despite Quackity starting to struggle slightly, in his arms. "You still like foxglove."

"Of course." She pulled back the sheets. "If you two can get him out of those burnt things, I'll find him something to eat, and bring a first aid kit, just in case."

Foolish nodded, turning to Fundy as she left. "Can you find him something else to wear? I know Quackity's...usually very comfortable, with running around naked, but..."

"I'm on it..." Starting out the door, Fundy paused. "Foolish...I'm sorry, for whatever my former father has to do with all of this..." He left the sentence hanging, running down the hall before Foolish could fully realize exactly the words he'd used.

"Former...?" He sighed, shaking his head. "That's...not what I need to be worried about, right now." Removing the torn, bloodied and burnt scraps of cloth from Quackity's now shivering form, he paused, as a slightly singed, somewhat worn scrap of paper fell from the breast pocket of his red dress shirt - which Foolish very carefully set on top of his pants, upon realizing how damp the bloodstain still was. Staring at it for a moment, he tucked it into one of his pouches, for safekeeping, along with Quackity's other surviving possessions: he'd bring them back later, along with Quackity's clothes and toiletries. "I think maybe a hot bath is in order."

Carrying Quackity into the small bathroom, he placed him in the sunken bathtub, and turned on the water, carefully keeping it blood warm. "You're okay, Quackity...you're someplace safe, with allies..." Gently reaching out, he ran his hands lightly over Quackity's wings, checking for damage not healed by coming back to life. "...Las Nevadas is still standing...the slime army worked...we'll be able to rebuild..."

"...Charlie?" His voice was a shaking, broken sounding whisper.

"He...left, with Dream. I think. I need to go back and check, but I wanted to make sure you're safe, first."

Quackity started to try and stand. "I'm coming with you..."

Foolish just put his hands on his shoulders, very gently holding him down. "No, you're not. Just in case. If I have to worry about someone taking another shot at you, I might miss something important, which could cause a lot more damage."

"It's my country, Foolish..."

"Then let me go make sure it's safe, while Eret and Fundy make sure you're okay...you did just die."

"Fuck." Quackity quit fighting, sinking back into the hot water. "I...I'm down to my last life..."

"So...you'll stay here, while I make sure it's safe for you to go home?"

Quackity nodded, his wings rising above his hunched shoulders as he wrapped his arms around himself. "Go, Foolish...make sure I didn't die for another hole in the ground..." It was several long moments after he heard the living totem leave, before he could relax enough to take a deep breath, and submerge himself completely. Coming up for air only once he had to, he shook the water gently out of his wings, pushed his hair back out of his face, and found himself looking at a glass of red wine. Taking it carefully with both hands, he glanced up at Eret's sympathetic expression, and turned as red as the drink. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this..."

"Hush. Drink." She sat on the floor beside the bathtub. "My home is your home, at least until Foolish deems Las Nevadas safe, again."

He managed a slight smile. "I promise not to mistake you for a ghost, again."

"And I promise to not call you a bastard."

He chuckled. "Why not...apparently, I am one..." He saluted her and drained half the glass. "...you were just smart enough to see it, before I cost you a canon life."

"Quackity..."

"No...I got my best friend killed, because I didn't even take my own advice...and he killed me for it...and here I am." He drained the rest of the glass.

Eret reached out, briefly cupping the hand that was holding the glass, rather than taking it from him to refill it. "Here you are, among allies...dare I say, even friends...who have all made mistakes, and been hurt by our own actions and those of others - you're here to heal in relative safety, not to beat yourself up."

"Speaking of...did you actually send Wilbur to talk to Fundy?" He managed to meet her gaze, questioningly.

"You see what I mean? I meant to heal their relationship, not end it..." She shook her head. "Though I cannot honestly say that I haven't come out the the experience the richer for it - I've officially adopted Fundy, despite him being grown."

Quackity raised an eyebrow. "How...does that work? Does that make him your heir?"

"I suppose it does...I wasn't thinking of that, I simply wanted him to know that he's not alone." She gave him a concerned smile. "And neither are you, you know..."

Quackity laughed, bitterly. "My best friend just murdered me - which was honestly fair, after someone I thought was an ally murdered him, because of my actions. Wilbur...fucking Wilbur led me on, so he could run off with a clear conscience, I guess...and that's after Karl flat out rejected me...which...I guess is also fair, considering the plot we hatched to try and frame you..." With a mock salute, he drained his glass, again.

Eret took the glass from him, this time, setting it to the side. "To be fair, I did betray you, first."

"You can tell me the truth, Eret...I don't hold it against you, that Foolish is probably the only reason you agreed to let me stay here - hell, I wouldn't let me stay, after what Dream did to Las Nevadas...come to think of it, I notice Foolish didn't exactly take me home with him..."

"If he took you to his summer house, he'd have to leave you there alone and unprotected." Eret pointed out. "Which is clearly not in your best interests, at the moment."

"Having me in your home is probably not in your best interest..."

"Yes, but I choose to do so. And not just because of Foolish. Or Fundy." Reaching into a cabinet, she pulled out a large, thick towel. "You need food, and rest. Fundy has likely found something for you to wear, by now..."

"Let me actually clean up, first...I don't want to abuse you hospitality, by getting everything dirty."

"I can replace the sheets, Quackity...replacing a friend is impossible." She set the towel just close enough that he could reach it, without risking it becoming soaked by accidental splashes from the bath, and gave him a sympathetic smile as she stood. "I'm going to go get you a proper meal, it looks as if you haven't eaten in days..."

Quackity blushed slightly: he'd forgotten...or not realized, before now?...that he was, in fact, not wearing a damned thing, in front of his former fiancé and apparent benefactor. "I've been...busy..."

"Well, then...try to treat this as a holiday." She left the bathroom, pausing in the doorway. "A holiday, with friends."

Foolish blushed slightly as Eret came into the room to find him with Quackity cradled in his lap, aware of what it must look like, since the smaller man's legs were wrapped around his waist so his wings weren't restrained in the embrace... "He had a nightmare."

"I heard...is he going to be all right?" Worry shone from her exhausted, uncovered eyes.

"I hope so...he...hasn't screamed like that, in a long time."

"We both know this was more than a nightmare, Foolish." Eret sat on the edge of the bed, tentatively reaching out, to stroke Quackity's long, black hair: seeing his good eye half closed, she sighed. "I have a lovely lavender chamomile tea, that might help him get back to sleep...or perhaps, a hot toddy?"

"I'm never sure if alcohol is the best idea, or the worst." Foolish glanced down at him. "I mean...wasn't one of his exes..."

"...Brandy Alexander..." Quackity's whisper held barely enough tone to render it audible. "If you have the ingredients...please..."

"I think I might...do you want it warm?"

Quackity nodded, slowly.

Eret stood and left the room, her robe flowing around her like a cape.

"I can't keep waking you guys up...I'm sorry..." His tone was sleepy, and apologetic, almost to the point of pleading.

"Quackity..." Foolish stared down at him, worried. "...you can't help it, and you don't have to go through it alone."

"What kind of fucking president...fucking cries over having a bad dream, after failing to protect his country..."

"One who's been through hell, and is having to rebuild things far more complicated and personal than infrastructure." Eret returned with a delicate glass, holding it out patiently until Quackity shifted enough to take it and drink. "Do you imagine that I haven't had my share of sleepless nights, over the past?"

"And now you're losing sleep over mine." Risking meeting her gaze for a second, his eye widened, seeing her without her sunglasses. "I should go home..."

"It's not ready yet."

"Absolutely not."

Speaking simultaneously, Foolish and Eret glanced at each other, and started laughing: after a long moment, Quackity joined them....then yawned. "I think I'll be okay, if the two of you want to go back to bed...I'm just going to nurse this, a bit..." He took a sip of the drink.

Exchanging another glance with Eret, Foolish slowly let Quackity shift off of his lap, as she nodded, with a soft smile. "If you're certain..."

"I'll be fine..."

Eret waited until they'd both left the room and shut the door, before turning to Foolish with a raised eyebrow. "You know he isn't..."

"Why do you think I never told him the Space Needle is perfectly safe...I...could move him, to my place..."

"Don't. You. Dare." Eret growled. "Though...perhaps we should ask his fi...well...Sapnap, for help? He would have gone through this with him, last time, surely? And he'd know what's triggering him?"

Foolish nodded. "I'll try asking him, tomorrow...or...today? Whatever..."

"Thank you...I'm certain they'll react more positively to you, than to me."

Foolish wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "They can't hold it against you forever..."

"Why not?"

"Because they'll die, eventually." The flippant, cheerful tone combined with his sharkishly wicked smile actually got her to chuckle.

"The only good thing about losing my memory is: I get to discover how good a friend you are, all over again."

Quackity paused, leaning over the table with the blueprints as he shook his head. "Damn it...when is the fucking ringing going to stop..."

Eyeing the white knuckled grip he had on opposite edges of the table, Foolish raised an eyebrow. "Most of what I plan to do today is up high, and you clearly don't belong on scaffolding, just yet." Which he'd done mostly on purpose, so he'd have an excuse to send his stubborn employer, friend and charge away to heal for a few days longer...

"It's my country, Foolish...who else is going to rebuild it, especially after Dream blew it up?"

"I'll help...if you'll let me?" Sapnap's voice, more uncertain than he's ever heard it, came from behind him.

Quackity spun around, startled. "Saaaap..." The world went sideways.

He ended up held up between Foolish and Sapnap: the latter's arms wrapped around him...so protectively... "You shouldn't even be up, yet, should you?"

"I have to..."

"No." Sapnap swung him into his arms. "I brought more help...he can work with Foolish, while I make sure you don't overdo it."

"Who..."

"Someone I've worked with, before." Foolish hurriedly pulled Quackity's keys out of his pocket, handing them to Sapnap, and giving him a light push towards the Space Needle. "He hasn't slept well, in about...well...since this." He motioned to the still damaged buildings. "I'm hoping it's because he's been staying elsewhere, until I was sure Dream didn't leave anything behind..."

"I can work..."

"Quackity...I'm getting a sore throat from having to yell." Foolish handed him a rolled up schematic. "If you have to do something, then go over the security systems - Dream shouldn't have been able to just waltz in here, like he did."

"I'll help with that." Sapnap gave Quackity a cautiously enthusiastic grin, as he started towards Quackity's home. "I'm actually trying to catch him, myself...so knowing where he is would be a big help - maybe we can sync up surveillance between Las Nevadas and Kinoko?"

Quackity blinked up at him. "You're...going after him?"

"Yeah...he tried to kill me, and threatened to blow up Kinoko...over armor..." Sapnap sighed, as he backed through the entrance of the Space Needle. "Which...if this is...my fault, at all...if this is him, trying to get at me...I'm sorry..."

"No." Quackity sighed. "This was...completely aimed at me..."

"You didn't kill him, though? Right?" Sapnap glanced down at him, again, as they waited for the elevator.

"I tortured him, Sap...I admit it. Because of exactly this...him escaping, and retaliating for us leaving him alive, after what he tried to do to Tommy and Tubbo, after everything he did before, including blowing up L'Manberg...and he's right back at it."

Hearing the too familiar level of stress in his voice as the elevator slowed to a stop, Sapnap glanced down at him, worriedly, as he fumbled with the key. "I know...and we're going to stop him for good, this time." He managed a small smile. "Together, maybe?"

Quackity nodded, as he pushed the door open. "I'd really like that..."

It took all of two hours for Quackity to pass out on the sofa, leaning against his shoulder - at least, it was two hours before Sapnap trusted the slumber to remain deep enough for him to leave for a few moments, and tucked a blanket around him.

Foolish climbed down the scaffolding as soon as he saw him exiting the building, meeting him at the staging area. "Is he okay?"

"You're right...I've seen him like this...but...not from the explosions, I don't think..."

"Is it because it was Charlie?"

"Probably? Maybe?" Sapnap glanced up at Karl, who waved down at him with a smile: he waved back. "He's...not the only one, who's turned on him, recently." He admitted, softly.

"Which is why you wanted to keep them from seeing each other?"

"Yeah...I...don't know what the hell is up with Karl, but at least he agreed to help rebuild, even if it was because of you, and definitely not Quackity."

"Honestly...as happy as I am for the help, I really used it as an excuse for you to be here." Foolish glanced towards the Space Needle. "The buildings, I can fix...Quackity, I need help with..."

"He's not sleeping, is he." Sapnap stated, more than asked.

"Maybe a few hours, at a time, before he wakes up screaming."

Sapnap's eyes widened. "It's that bad?"

"It's bad enough that I know he walks a straighter line when he's drunk, right now..."

"Drunk? How drunk?"

"If he wasn't already exhausted, he'd be drinking himself into a stupor...and I don't know if it's the attack, or..." His jaw clamped shut, before he said it.

"Or...what?" Sapnap raised an eyebrow. "I kind of need to know, Foolish..."

"Wilbur showed up here, before he left." Foolish's hand hovered over his pouch, then consciously rested on the table with the plans.

"Well...he would have to actually be here, to leave..."

"I mean: the SMP. Not just Las Nevadas."

"What?!" Sapnap stared at him, wide eyed. "Does...does Tommy know?!"

"I...think? He must, because Wilbur was on some sort of...farewell tour, of all the people he's ever hurt - he talked to Eret; Fundy...I don't even want to get into...and Quackity...gods, they got into a fight..."

"A fight over what?"

"I didn't listen to the whole thing...it felt...very personal. But..." He sighed. "You have to understand...they both got very, very drunk, and I think he thought that Wilbur was a threat to himself, because he locked them in...the point is: Wilbur snuck out, the next morning, and Quackity hasn't been himself, since - not that Las Nevadas being targeted and him being killed by Charlie helped any, but...I have to wonder if he would've seen it coming, if he hadn't already been upset."

"Wait...so...they both got drunk, and...Wilbur spent the night?"

Foolish held his hands up. "Look - I don't know if anything happened - I just know...emotions were high when I left; Wilbur snuck out, and Quackity punched the wall, when he found out...and..." He reached into his pouch, pulling out what looked like a somewhat worn letter. "...this was in his pocket, when he died..."

"And you didn't give it back?"

"He hasn't asked about it...and I don't know if I should give it back, because...it's from him. That much I know...but I haven't read past the salutation, because it's obviously very personal."

Sapnap reached for the letter. "I'll...try to figure it out, Foolish..."

* * * * * * * *

My beloved friend, Quackity...

I was wrong. About so much.

And I hope that I am the last mistake that you ever make.

You deserve better, and always have.

Better than I have treated you; better than others have treated you, and better than you treat yourself.

You've built yourself a home, this time, with no need to stay in the shadow of another...especially me.

The truth is: you've never needed anyone else.

And no one needs me.

The best thing I can do for you is leave, removing the spectre of my presence, harbinger of destruction that I clearly am...but please understand: I am not leaving because of you, but for you.

Perhaps I will even say: despite you.

Your heart is certainly a prize to be won, but I fall far short of being worthy to even compete, so I shall return home empty handed, forever grateful for even this short time in your presence.

Your humble servant, Wilbur.

Chapter Text

Eret glanced at Fundy, who was in turn staring down at Quackity from the roof they were repairing, with a confused expression. "Fundy? Is everything all right?"

Shaking himself, Fundy gave her a startled glance. "What...sorry, I'm just...worried, I guess."

"We all are...if it makes you feel better, Foolish says Quackity's at least not waking up screaming, any more..."

"He's still...off, Eret - and I can't figure out exactly how."

"He died, Fundy..." Setting aside her tools with a sigh, she turned her full attention to her adopted son. "...and I wouldn't be much of a parent, if I didn't take the opportunity to ask how you're doing."

He stared at her. "You...know what I did, don't you?"

Eret nodded.

"Did Foolish tell you? He seemed to know..."

"No." She glanced down, herself. "Quackity did. As soon as Wilbur told him, he sent me to check on you."

"He...he did? And that's when you...is that why..."

"Fundy, I intended to adopt you, all along - but then, you grew up, and I wrongly thought that you didn't need me, anymore. I forgot that even adults need family to rely on, whether it's a traditional one, or one we make, ourselves." She motioned to the others: Sapnap and Quackity going over schematics on the ground; George and Karl midway up the side of a building, on scaffolding; Foolish passing Sam a crate of redstone...the pairs carefully choreographed to keep Quackity off of high places, and away from Karl. "None of us are alone, in this - including you. When I heard that you'd...done what you apparently did, in response to Wilbur's attempts to make amends..."

"His attempt to retcon himself into a real father, you mean...but not because he wants to be, like you...so he could leave, without a single regret, or even a hint of guilt." Fundy's voice was flat. "It was stupid, I know that...but I wanted him...to feel something for me, for once, if he's even capable...even if the best I could get was guilt, by denying him the absolution that he was after."

"Fundy..." Her startled tone held sorrow, concern...and understanding.

"But...exactly how long were you waiting, in Pogtopia? I didn't think anyone even knew I was there..."

"I'm not honestly sure - I fell asleep, waiting...as soon as Quackity texted me about what your father had just told him, I went to Phil for his signature, then to find you..."

"So...the night he apparently spent here? But...I didn't go back to Pogtopia until..." He stared at her, wide eyed. "You waited...that long? Just to follow through on the adoption?"

"To show you that someone does, in fact, care." Reaching out, she put her hand on his shoulder. "I would have waited far longer, Fundy..."

"Then...maybe others still have a chance, to be happy, too..." He glanced back at Quackity and Sapnap, standing hip to hip over a crafting table, repairing a lantern.

Stories below, Sapnap held the metal casing while Quackity pulled loose the broken glass. "You're okay with George being here, right?"

"Honestly...I'm touched that everyone's coming together like this, for me." He risked a glance towards the scaffolding. "Did he really break up with Dream?"

Sapnap sighed. "That's what he said, when he volunteered to join us...it's almost like..." He shook his head, cutting off that thought. "I'm actually glad it came out, otherwise me hunting Dream might have become really awkward..."

Quackity sighed, his persistent headache making him not want to bother with social niceties, like omissions or subtlety. "You can just say it, Sap...it's like...well, what? Which way were you going to put it? Like love is just a delusion? Like no relationship ever lasts? Like..." Feeling his nose starting to drip as his eye stung, he wiped his sleeve across his face, to hide both.

"Like Dream poisons everything he touches?" Sapnap glanced at Quackity, froze for a moment, then grabbed his hands.

"Uhm..." Quackity felt his face flame. "Pandas...?"

Staring at Quackity's upturned palms, Sapnap's expression became as confused as it was worried. "You're bleeding...I thought you'd cut yourself, on the glass..."

"Bleeding..." Feeling his nose starting to run again he took back one of his hands...only to see his fingers indeed lightly coated in red: raising it slowly to his nose, he stared at the resulting crimson dampness. "Oh, what the hell, now..."

Sapnap started pulling him towards the Space Needle. "Let's go get you cleaned up..."

Quackity resisted. "It's just..." He sighed. "It's probably just residual from me dying, Sap..."

Sapnap stopped, turning to stare at him. "What?"

"I've had headaches, on and off, since..." He motioned to his face. "...but for the first week or so...I think?...I was occasionally spitting out blood, or felt like there was something in my eye...this is just...well, I assume I hit the ground pretty hard, or it's concussive damage from the TNT, like the ringing in my ears..."

"Quackity...if your shirt wasn't already red, Foolish would already have you over his shoulder, hauling you into your own infirmary." He gently pulled him forward. "Besides - what are you going to do? Bleed all over the repairs? Until the headache gets bad enough that you pass out?"

"I...didn't pass out..."

"You were on the ground." Sapnap dropped his hand, wrapping an arm around his waist, instead.

"I just...got a little dehydrated."

"Bullshit, with the amount of water you've been drinking to keep from waking up with a hangover..."

"Just say it, Sap..." His irritation flared, at Sapnap's disapproving tone. "I'm acting like Schlatt - that's what you want to say, isn't it?"

"What..." Sapnap recoiled from Quackity's despairingly self-incriminating tone, as the shorter man suddenly stormed past him, yanking his hand away. "Where is this...even coming from...?"

Quackity's determined gait faltered. "Charlie was supposed to be my protégé, and he killed me, just like I killed Schlatt. He even called me out on acting like him...well, not specifically, but...that was the gist of it..." With a humorless laugh, he continued towards home. "Wilbur was right, after all..."

"What? What the hell does Wilbur have to do with anything?" Sapnap's voice was suddenly very tense.

Quackity's shoulders tensed in response, then slumped. "Nothing...because it's obvious, now, that I've never needed anyone else, to push everyone away..."

"WHAT..." Sapnap charged after him, pushing the door to the building open so Quackity wouldn't leave a bloody handprint.

"Thanks..." His voice was quiet, and embarrassed. "I'm sorry if I'm being...I don't know...dramatic? bitchy?...but I did just die, so I think I kind of have a valid excuse..."

"What the hell did Wilbur say?!"

"He didn't..." He sighed, again, pinching his nose. "He told me...that I wasn't in anyone's shadow, anymore. Including his. That I didn't need anyone else...and I guess he decided to prove that, by leaving." He chuckled, in self-deprecating frustration. "After I reminded him that I basically threw him out of my country...God, I am Schlatt..."

"No, you're fucking not...what the hell..."

"Sap..." He finally met his gaze again, tiredly, once they were in the elevator. "I have one life left. If I keep lying to myself..." He shook his head. "Look at me: I manipulated people into helping me build my country; I was blind enough to not see one of them plotting against me; the friend I trusted most ended up killing me, because I'm not a good person..." He started laughing, but there was no mirth to it. "Dream blew it up, with TNT...after I preemptively exiled Wilbur...hell, I'm even using cigarettes and alcohol to cope with pain..."

"You're in pain?" Sapnap felt a pang of guilt, at that...and renewed concern.

Quackity used leaving the elevator as an excuse to look away, again. "I still don't really know whether it was the fall or the TNT that got me...I didn't really snap out of it, until Foolish got me to Eret's."

"Why the hell didn't he just bring you to Kinoko?"

"Because Dream would have used it as an excuse to attack you guys...and that's before either of us knew George broke up with him." Starting to reach into his pocket, he stopped, carefully wiping his hand on his pants before pulling out his keycard, and opening the door to his penthouse. Passing the blanket and pillow covered sofa - that Sapnap hadn't slept on since sometime the first night he'd spent there, when he'd awakened to the beginning of Quackity's nightmare, and crawled into bed beside him to help him get back to sleep - Quackity sighed. "Speaking of that...are you sure that Karl's okay, with you staying here?"

Sapnap followed him into the bathroom. "He's here, too, Quackity."

"Yeah...that...surprised me, honestly..." He turned on the sink.

"Quackity...when I told him that you built this place, for us..." Sapnap shook his head. "He's confused, somehow..."

"Fuck." Leaning forward over the sink had resulted in blood coming out more than just his nose.

Sapnap paled, seeing blood on his lips and trickling from the injured corner of his mouth. "Quackity?!"

Feeling his face turn red beneath the blood, he tried to lean further over the sink. "It's...still just a nosebleed, Sap - the pickaxe went through one of my sinuses. It...does this, sometimes..."

Sapnap's hands grabbed his shoulders, firmly, and pulled him away from the sink, towards the closed toilet. "Sit. The fuck. Down." He further made it clear it wasn't a request, pushing him down. "I'm going to go get..."

"No, Sap..." Noticing as tiny drops of crimson spread over his friend's white shirt, he sighed. "Fuck...I have the stuff I need for this, in the medicine cabinet...I need the decongestant spray, first..."

Sapnap retrieved the small bottle, and brought it to him. "Are you sure..."

"Pass me some tissues." He carefully tried to drain as much of the blood as he could, before spraying the medication, and pinching his nose. "I'm going to be here, for a while...you'll probably want to go soak your shirt, so maybe it won't stain..."

"What..." Sapnap stared down at it, startled. "Is...is that why you started wearing red?"

"It's why I'm wearing it, now...fuck..." He wiped his lips with the tissues. "...blood's bad enough, but the taste of this stuff..." He spat into the now thoroughly saturated handful, before discarding them, and reaching for more. "Please bring be the whiskey..."

"Alcohol's a blood thinner..."

Sighing deeply, Quackity leaned further forward. "I know...I just need something to get the taste out of my mouth - trust me, I don't want to swallow it, with a medicated blood chaser...in fact...oh, shit..." Grabbing the wastebin, he had to let go of his nose as he threw up, resulting in a spray of fresh blood joining the other. "...fffu....fuuuck..."

Hearing the despairing edge to Quackity's voice, Sapnap nodded. "Okay." Running to Quackity's desk, he found and half filled his favorite tumbler...Quackity was shaking, slightly, when he got back. "Is it...usually this bad..." He traded the glass for the medicine bottle, placing the latter back in the medicine cabinet.

"The fucking medicine...nausea's a side effect, even when you don't swallow it..." Setting aside the wastebin to take the tumbler, he took a sip of the whiskey, using it to rinse the taste from his mouth. "Thanks..."

"You...actually have medicine...for bloody noses?"

Glancing up carefully without raising his head, he sighed. "To prevent them...because of the damage, and living in a desert...sorry to drag you into it...and about your shirt..."

"What else...?"

"What do you mean?"

"Headaches...bloody noses...different nightmares, because I can tell that..." Sapnap lightly rested his hand on Quackity's head, slowly pulling off the beanie when he didn't object, and running his fingers through his thick black hair.

"I'm fine Sap..."

"Bullshit."

Quackity actually looked up, at that, startled.

"You said it, yourself: you're drinking and smoking, to deal with pain. Which you're apparently in a lot of. Talk to me, Quackity - please?"

"I died, Sap...that tends to be painful. And have lasting effects." He shivered. "Look...both our homes are in danger. I don't have time, to fall apart...any more than I already am."

Eret's eyebrows raised high above her sunglass frames, as Karl approached, looking extremely nervous, but determined. "I know that we haven't exactly given each other much reason for trust between us...but I also know that you're trying to preserve the history of the SMP, and you're being honest about it..."

"I...like to think so?"

"I found this, cleaning up debris...and I need to know..." He held out a charred pile of pictures. "...are they real?"

"Are they what, now?" Taking the singed photographs, she glanced through them: Quackity, Sapnap and Karl, sometimes as a trio, sometimes with George and Dream; just the three of them, obviously more romantic; and finally, a pair that made her blush.

"I...don't remember most of these..."

Her eyes snapped up, widening. "You...don't remember?"

"Quackity and Sapnap both act like..." He glanced towards the penthouse, and sighed. "They act like they're together, and I should be okay with that? I mean, Sapnap's trying to hide it, since Quackity showed up at Kinoko, but..."

"Karl...you're engaged to him. Both of you are - he built this place, for you, and Sapnap." Eret was watching him, with concern. "Do you truly not remember?"

"E...engaged?"

"Yes." She nodded, pulling out one of the more intimate pictures. "It's one of the few good things I consider to have come from all that...nonsense...surrounding El Rapids: it was honestly nice, to see Quackity starting to be happy again - as long as I overlook the parts about all of you trying to frame and dethrone me, of course..." Seeing his expression, she lowered the picture. "You...don't remember, do you?" She glanced towards Foolish. "Just as I don't..."

Karl took two steps towards the penthouse, before Sapnap came out: his eyes weren't the only ones to widen, at the bright red on his white shirt.

Foolish was the fastest to his side, speaking as the others quickly surrounded them. "What happened..."

"He got a bloody nose...does that happen a lot?"

"Not usually that bad..." Foolish stared at his shirt. "He usually catches it fast, and deals with it."

"Foolish..." Sapnap regarded him with a serious look. "How bad was he really, before the attack?"

"Besides the completely justified panic over Dream escaping?" Foolish sighed. "He was...obsessed with healing Charlie, after Purpled killed him - he didn't come back, right. Then he disappeared, and I thought Quackity was starting to let go...but then, he came back, and killed Quackity. Now, he's throwing himself into rebuilding, not letting himself react to either dying or Charlie's part in it...at least, while he's awake...so...not great?"

"Okay, so...was it that, or what Wilbur said, that has him comparing himself to Schlatt?"

Foolish was the only only one present to not recoil, at that. "I didn't know he was...but it could also be because of whatever Charlie said to him, right before..."

"Foolish...that's worse than you think..." Eret motioned from Karl to Sapnap, then back to herself. "No matter how badly our relationships with Quackity have been strained, or ended...none of us wish Schlatt on him...even Dream, apparently - he likely brought back Wilbur at least in part to hurt Quackity, even if it was an afterthought, to punishing Tommy...but even he hasn't brought back Schlatt."

"Schlatt hurt him...I remember that..." Karl was paler than normal.

"So for him to compare himself to him..." Foolish stared up at the penthouse.

He was falling...again...but as Charlie's face vanished from view, the TNT began to explode: he fell not onto the streets of Las Nevadas, but through them...into...an underground train station? His breathing evened out, as he picked himself up, dusted off his...his track suit?...and instinctively ran for the waiting train. Huddling in his seat, he shivered more from his remaining adrenaline slowly draining away, than the actual cold: once it was gone, he must have passed out - could he do that, in a dream? - leaning against the metal wall, because he woke with a start, when the train lurched to a stop.

The destination was...vaguely familiar, but felt off, somehow: staring both directions as he left the train platform, he caught a whiff of something wonderful, and followed the familiar aromatic combination of meat, wine and spices up the stairs to the street above. As he approached the street vendor, he thought to search his pockets, hoping he'd at least remembered his wallet...

Smiling, the woman handed him one of the skewers, without him having found it. "Necesitas fuerzas, pobrecito..."

"I...gracias...?" He watched her walking towards what looked like a long dock, then turned to glance the other way - that way seemed right somehow, or at least, more familiar. Eating the anticuchos as he walked, he found himself in front of what appeared to be a gym...which his mind slowly recognized, a second before a familiar voice brought back the terror of the beginning of the nightmare...

"Sugar pumpkin?!" Schlatt stared at him, shocked.

Quackity screamed...

...sat bolt upright in bed, and felt his stomach turn inside out...

"Quackity?!" Sapnap reached towards him.

Holding up a trembling hand, he scrambled off of the bed, and towards the bathroom, barely pausing enough to note that someone had cleaned up the blood, from earlier...

Sapnap was holding his hair back, when he came back to his senses. "What the hell did you even eat..."

"S...sorry..."

"No...I'm not mad, just...really worried..."

"Can you please...make me a scotch and soda...?" He managed to climb to his feet, shakily. "I need...a quick shower, I think..."

As soon as he heard the water start from the other room, Sapnap pulled out his communicator, and sent out a group text.

Fundy came out of his bathroom still drying his tail...only to have it fluff completely, as he walked into a pocket of cold air that shouldn't have been able to exist that close to the fireplace...the smoke from which smelled both wrong...and familiar... "What the hell...?"

"That's what I want to know." Glatt was staring at him, perched on the hearth. "But I suppose you can't see me, either..."

Fundy gave him an irritable, but slightly fearful, look. "Of course I can see you...and smell your nasty cigar..."

"If can hear me, then you need to listen: Quackity was in Limbo, earlier - I don't know how, and he got yanked back into the land of the living, but it can't be good..."

Fundy's ears flicked, suspiciously. "What do you mean, he was in Limbo? He has one life left."

Glatt's eyes widened. "One life? He's down to one, now? What the fuck happened?"

The concern in the ghost's voice was enough to make Fundy relent. "Dream somehow brainwashed his best friend into murdering him."

"Which one?"

"What...oh. I said friend, not fiancé. But I guess I can understand why you wouldn't know the difference..." He pulled on his clothes and armor, and headed towards the door.

"Fundy, I'm serious - Quackity being in Limbo...it shouldn't happen. Not if he's alive...and the only person I know who could pull him out, like that, is Dream...if Dream has him..." He began to pace in agitation.

"Dream doesn't have him, and I don't think he wants to face Sapnap, right now."

"Can you please just..."

"Where the hell do you think I'm going, at this hour? Sapnap's more worried than you are, because he has the right to be." Opening the door, he stepped into the hallway.

Glatt froze in his tracks at the anger in his voice, then hurried to catch up. "I can't help being worried about this, Fundy..."

"Because you expect him to bring you back?"

"If I admit that - even if it's not true...entirely... - will you take me seriously enough to at least talk to Eret, about it?"

"To Eret?" Fundy stopped, and turned to look at him. "Why?"

"Because he has to know something about all this, since he tried to bring Wilbur back - even if it didn't work."

Fundy growled, at his biological father's name. "I was there, remember?"

"Look - I don't know what the hell happened, between you and Wilbur, once he was revived. And I can certainly understand being pissed at him. But Quackity shouldn't be in Limbo, when he's got a life left."

"Okay, I'll...I'll talk to Eret. Just...let me go, so we can go check on him."

Glatt nodded, and disappeared from view.

Shaking his head, he ran the rest of the way to where Eret was waiting with two horses. "Sorry I took so long..."

Eret shook her head, with a yawn. "I just finished saddling them, perfect timing..."

"So..." He considered his words, as he climbed onto the horse. "Do you remember trying to bring Wilbur back, with Philza?"

Eret gave him a startled, confused glance. "Of course..." Turning back to face towards Las Nevadas, she managed a slight smile. "Quackity came to me, first...that little bit of trust in my abilities meant a great deal, to me..." The smile faded. "...but I failed..."

"Which turned out to be for the best." Fundy shook his head. "I hate even bringing this up, but...Glatt showed up, claiming that Quackity was somehow in Limbo."

"What!?" Eret was staring at him fully, now, trusting her horse to know the way.

"Glatt wants me to tell you that Quackity apparently visited Limbo, briefly."

"How?!"

"That's what he's worried, about." Fundy shook his head. "I believe him...or at least, that he believes what he's saying. But...Sapnap said he had a nightmare...right?" He and Eret held their shared gaze for another very tense second, before turning in unison to urge their horses to go faster.

Foolish gave them a tiredly concerned look, as they both dismounted almost before their horses stopped, in front of the Space Needle. "It was just a nightmare, right?"

"Maybe not." Eret gave him an uneasy look. "Apparently...no." She shook her head. "I want to hear what Sapnap has to say, first..."

Sapnap opened the door before any of them could knock, still in his pajamas, his hair disheveled. "Thanks for coming, so fast..."

Quackity gave them a tiredly confused look from where he was sitting on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, with a drink in his hands. "I'm not exactly dressed, to entertain guests..."

"I don't think we're here as guests, Quackity." Foolish's voice was reassuring, but also gently stern.

"It was just a nightmare, Sap..." He muttered, turning bright red.

Sapnap glanced at the three newcomers, with a single shake of his head. "I'm more worried about the other part."

Quackity pulled the blanket up over his head, and focused on his drink.

"Another nightcap...?" Eret spoke softly, with a raised eyebrow.

"That one, I understand." Sapnap nodded towards the bathroom, speaking even lower. "When he threw up after medicating his nosebleed, I accepted his explanation...and I might even have accepted that the nightmare he had, could have left him that upset...but what he threw up..."

"Do you mean how much, or..."

"That, too - he didn't really eat dinner, he was too tired...but it was at least good food..."

"It's probably not a comment on your cooking, Sapnap..." Eret's voice held a hint of a chuckle.

"No, that's not..." He motioned for the other three to move in closer. "He went to bed, right after dinner. Hours ago. What he threw up..." He shivered. "...it looked like he'd just eaten rotten flesh...but he couldn't have, because he never got out of bed, before that..."

"Has he eaten, since?" Foolish glanced towards him. "He really can't afford to skip very many more meals..."

Sapnap gave him a long, uncomfortable look. "That's the other part...he says he's not hungry. At all."

"Well..." Eret was the first to break the uncomfortably stunned silence. "...that...can happen..."

"When he's in his state?" Foolish shook his head. "Is he sick?"

"He says it's just side effects, of dying and coming back..." He glanced from Foolish to Fundy. "Could that be true? I've never...I thought that people came back healed?"

"It's..." Foolish shivered. "...not pleasant."

Eret looked away, her expression pained, fixing her gaze on their subject. "Not completely, it would seem..."

"He's still dealing with the aftereffects of his first death, not just this one..."

"But that's got a physical reason." Foolish shook his head. "Ponk deals with that, every day, too..."

Sapnap's eyes widened. "Isn't Ponk a doctor, of some kind? We could have him look..."

"I'll try to call him, in the morning..." Foolish stared at Quackity, his expression unsettled. "I've been hoping it was just him having trouble readjusting, but..." He shook his head. "Something is very off, about him."

"So I'm not the only one who sees it?" Fundy's voice was hopefully startled.

"Fundy..." Eret's gaze snapped towards her adopted son. "You said, on the way here...that Glatt told you Quackity had been in Limbo..." She glanced at Foolish. "If Quackity ate something, in Limbo...might it disagree with him, when he's back here?"

Foolish paled. "If he ate something in Limbo...then he's very lucky to have come back, at all."

"But...wouldn't Tommy and Wilbur have both eaten, while they were there?"

"But they were supposed to be there, and got revived." Foolish glanced towards Quackity. "From what you said...you would have noticed, if he died? Right?"

"I've been holding him the entire time." Sapnap shook his head. "I think I would have noticed...and how would he have come back, without me hearing Dream come in, and read the revive book?"

"Guys..." Quackity's voice was tired, and just a touch exasperated. "Just because I'm not dressed for a party, doesn't mean I want to drink alone, in a room full of people."

Exchanging several quick, questioning looks, the quartet moved away from the door: Sapnap sat beside Quackity on the sofa, the others pulling up chairs. Eret was the first to speak. "As much as I hate to dredge it up...I think we need to ask: what was the nightmare, about?"

He shivered, slightly. "Just...the normal things...you know, dying..."

"I'm sorry..."

"...at least I woke up, before the part with Schlatt could go anywhere..."

"You...dreamed about Schlatt?" Eret glanced around at the others, as they all went completely still.

"It was weird...there was...a train? And a gym...oh, fuck, it was his gym..." He shivered violently, almost spilling the third of a drink he had left. "At least the anticuchos tasted like my bisabuela's..." He smiled, tiredly. "I haven't had them in...God, since I was...like...seven? They were so good..." His stomach growled, in agreement. "...I really want some, now..."

"Do you have the recipe? Perhaps we can make some, for you..."

Quackity giggled, at that. "Recipe? She measured the spices in her hand, or by smell...you can't write that down..." He shook his head. "Funny that that memory showed up in the middle of a nightmare...or actually, near the end..." He yawned, and slowly stood, glancing around at all of them as if to make sure he was allowed. "Since we're all up...I'll make breakfast."

Foolish turned to Sapnap. "Who's his bisabuela?"

"His great grandmother...she died, when he was a kid."

"She died..." Eret glanced at Foolish. "Which would mean..."

"She could be in Limbo."

Sapnap's eyes widened. "What..." He glanced towards the kitchen. "Don't let him hear you say that..."

"If she knew he was there, don't you think she might try to meet up, with him?" Eret spoke softly. "Family is very important, to some people..." She glanced at Fundy, with a smile. "...and it would seem, from our collective experience, that it doesn't end with death."

"Wait..." Sapnap held up a hand. "So you're saying that you actually believe that he was in Limbo? And met up with his great grandmother, who...gave him food poisoning, somehow?"

"If he threw up rotten meat...it's possible? Maybe?" Foolish shook his head. "Though I have no idea, how..."

Fundy sighed, and turned to Sapnap. "Glatt was too worried to be lying about it."

"So what he threw up...is what he ate, in Limbo?" Sapnap made a face, at that thought.

"It might not have seemed rotten, when he ate it." Eret theorized. "But...I think we need to bring in wiser minds, on this subject..."

"I'll call Ponk, as soon as it's actually morning..." Foolish stretched, and yawned.

"Not just Ponk...not for this."

Chapter Text

Sapnap found BadBoyHalo pacing nervously in his house, and glanced around with a sigh, expecting to find apple juice bottles...instead, he'd apparently spent the whole night repairing his weapons and armor, and making potions. Giving his father a confused look, he picked up one of the latter. "What's going on?"

"I...don't remember..."

Sapnap sighed...but a second look made it clear that the demon hadn't been drunk, during the repairs, at least. "Okay...what do you remember?"

"There was something I was supposed to do...but I don't remember..." Bad's eyes were radiating his fear, over that. "Pandas...something is very wrong."

Sapnap nodded, moving slowly around the room, trying to find any clues that might be in the open. "Yeah...there's something wrong with Quackity, too...which is why I'm here."

"With Quackity." Bad sounded less than pleased. "I thought you'd broken up..."

"Dream killed him." Sapnap gave him a long look. "He used his best friend against him, Bad...it'd be like Antfrost killing you..."

"He gave Puffy the axe that she used to kill Antfrost."

"When you were trying to sacrifice everyone...Quackity - and others - have filled me in, on that. And this...this is part of why I don't come around, like I used to...but..." He took a deep breath, forcing back his temper. "...I need to know about the bond you have, with Skeppy..."

"So what...so you can throw away your lives, on Quackity?" Bad shook his head. "No, Pandas. I won't tell you that...I won't let you sacrifice yourself, for him!"

"Damn it...I'm afraid he's fucking dying, Bad - partially because I fucked up, and partially because Karl's not doing great, either!" He glared at the startled demon. "You were friends with him once...you cared about him, and not just because I love him...and Dream escaped partially because of you and Ant...please, just tell me..." Tears were streaming - and steaming - down his cheeks. "I don't know if we can ever get back what we had...but I don't want to bury him! So please..." He sank into a chair. "...help me..."

Bad knelt in front of his son, taking off his cloak and wrapping it around him. "I'll tell you...so you know exactly why it's a bad idea..."

Sapnap stared at him for a long moment, then listened intently, reflexively rubbing the very faded red border of the cloak as he'd done to calm himself, his entire childhood.

"I take it the adoption's official?"

Eret smiled her thanks to Philza as he set two mugs of hot chocolate on the table. "Yes. Thank you, for making it possible."

Philza glanced out the window at the forest across from his house. "You're welcome...but why don't I think this is a social call?"

"Because it isn't." Eret sighed, wrapping her hands around the mug to warm them. "How much do you know about Limbo?"

"Limbo?" Philza pushed his own mug away. "More than I'd like..." He softly admitted. "Why?"

"Quackity apparently visited it, in a dream."

Philza raised an eyebrow, and sighed in relief. "That's not possible, if he's still alive."

"I know it shouldn't be, but..." Eret took a deep breath. "...he thought it was a nightmare, but Glatt confirmed that he was really there..." She met the other man's startled but still skeptical gaze. "...and he apparently threw up whatever he ate there, once he woke."

Philza's eyes widened, as his face went ash pale. "That...shouldn't be possible...if he ate the food of the afterlife, he'd be stuck there - you do know the bit about Persephone and the pomegranate?"

"What he threw up apparently looked and smelled like rotten meat, though he swore that it was one of the best things he's ever eaten, when he had it."

"Oh, no, no, no..." Philza shook his head. "That isn't good..."

"I know it can't be...that's why I've come for your help." She took a deep breath. "I know...there's no love lost, between you and Quackity, and that's completely fair, but..."

"Techno more than got even, for that...and the more I've learned about how Dream treated Tommy..." Philza shook his head. "Look: I may not particularly care for the man, but what you're describing may have repercussions for more than just him..." He gazed out the window at the forest. "There's someone I need to talk to, but I'll try to stop by, soon."

"Thank you."

Philza turned to face her, again. "Eret...you're a good person. Despite the crown."

"I'm trying to be..." The praise somehow made her feel better, as she headed back towards Las Nevadas...which lasted until she encountered Sapnap staring at the prison. "What's wrong?"

He sighed. "I don't know...Bad's acting really weird..." His voice became almost too soft to hear. "...I'm still trying to figure out who's the bad guy, here..."

"Does that really matter, when Quackity's ill? Philza is concerned enough that he's agreed to come by."

Sapnap gave her a startled look. "Really?"

Eret nodded. "He was especially interested in the food he may have eaten, in Limbo."

Sapnap sighed. "Maybe there's just something going around...maybe they're all acting weird because whatever Quackity has, is contagious..."

Shivering, Eret glanced towards the Red Banquet hall. "The last time everyone was acting strangely...it was the Egg's influence."

Sapnap's eyes widened. "The Egg would have it in, for Quackity, wouldn't it? And Bad was one of it's original victims..."

"Sapnap...please go and check on Quackity - I need to...verify something."

With a tense nod, Sapnap started running towards Las Nevadas: watching him go, Eret couldn't bring herself to reach the same speed, heading towards the underground cavern. Almost afraid to look inside, she ended up tripping over the first of the spreading vines, her eyes going wide as it wrapped around her ankle: pulling her sword, she began hacking at it, as more vines reached towards her. It was likely a losing bottle, she knew academically...but damn it all, she was at least going to hurt the vile thing, that had demanded her friend's death.

A larger vine joined the first, feinting towards her other foot as she slashed at it, still leaning against the wall of the tunnel as she tried to simultaneously tug her captured ankle free. {Quit fighting, and I will give you exactly what you want...a unified server, with no more warfare...no more pain...no more betrayal...}

"Sorry for not believing you, but you did kill my best friend, after all..." Swinging again, she managed to half sever the thicker vine.

{He offered his life, for yours...would you do the same, for him?}

Eret chuckled. "Why would I believe for a second, that you would abide by that bargain?"

{To give yourself peace, perhaps...but if you won't even take that small comfort then...} Another vine wrapped around her neck, squeezing tightly. {...you can simply die, adding your strength to the lives I've already taken.}

Eret tried to swing at the vine, not realizing that it had risen from the floor instead of coming down from the ceiling: hearing her sword clatter to the stones at her feet, what was likely her last vision for this life - tinged with red and shrinking smaller and smaller in a border of undulating, terrifying darkness - was of a familiar silhouette framed in the doorway of the chamber, her red eyes glowing as vines fawned around her feet like affectionate serpents...

But instead of fading into the blackness, her consciousness ended with a bright flash of light...

Cold, very damp air filled her lungs, after a long moment...fortunately, it woke her fast enough to realize that not only was she breathing, again, but someone was carrying her away from the Egg's evident lair...someone even more familiar than the silhouette had been... "Foo...Foolish...?"

"I've got you." Foolish's voice was tense, and grim: a glance up revealed a jaw clenched as only an angry shark's could be.

"How did you..." She started to cough: Foolish's grip on her tightened, as they landed outside Las Nevadas.

Setting her very carefully on her feet, he began looking her over. "I ran into Sapnap, on my way from trying to find Ponk - he said you were checking something out, so I thought I'd join you...then, I saw the storm, which was only over the Egg's old base...I guess it's not so old, though..." He shivered, but reached out slowly, gently touching her neck. "Let's get you to the infirmary, just to make sure you're okay..."

"As soon as..." She took an experimental deep breath. "...as we warn them..."

Foolish's expression became darker, as he tilted his head slightly, catching a very familiar scent on the wind. "We probably don't have to...can you run?"

Eret nodded gingerly. "My neck's worse than my ankle, so...I think?"

"Come on." He handed her sword back.

"Thanks for grabbing this." She reddened slightly, realizing she hadn't even thought to wonder about it. "And for saving me from the Egg, yet again..."

Foolish grinned at her. "Any time...now: let's go break something." He started running into the city.

Chuckling, she followed, enjoying the familiar rush it gave, even if she had no memory of why.

The strange joy of running headlong into anticipated battle with Foolish quickly faded, as they discovered that the source of the coppery tinge to the dusty, hot aroma of desert air was exactly what they both thought it was: their friends and allies, under attack. To make things even worse...

"It's not Sam!" Sapnap yelled, catching sight of them as he dodged in an arc, hitting the advancing armored creeper, then getting out of the way of the anticipated explosion.

"What do you mean, it's not Sam?" Foolish had come to a stop, paling as he stared at the fight in horror.

"It's not Sam, Foolish - there's more than one of him, and they're attacking us!" George yelled from the scaffolding from which he was firing down at the creepers...because he was right, about there being more than the one still advancing on Sapnap.

Eret glanced at Foolish. "I don't know what's going on, but I do know that Sam is capable of evil acts...he kidnapped Michael, and killed Ranboo..."

"He just nearly killed Quackity!" Sapnap yelled.

As two bright gazes - one blazing white, the other brilliant green - shifted over the scene, both friends resumed running towards the fight...getting between Sapnap and Karl, who was cradling an unconscious or worse Quackity, looking for a way to get past another one of Sam's doppelgangers into the main casino and the infirmary, within. Emerald eyes met twin stars, for a brief second. "Get Quackity to the infirmary - I'll meet you both there, after we deal with this."

Eret nodded, knowing there was no time to argue, and less point. Charging in the direction of the casino, she cleared the way for Karl to run with Quackity into the building, trying not to acknowledge the attacker who looked very much like the friend she'd locked in Pandora's Vault...and he had been a friend, that's why the betrayal had stung almost as badly as the cold blooded act of using Michael's safety to get Ranboo to submit to his own murder... Remembering both that, and the number of failsafes in the prison, she quickly barred the main doors, before taking point, checking for traps. "Right..." Her voice was breathy from effort as well as ragged from the vine trying to strangle her, earlier. "I know this is hardly the best time, but...the Egg is back, on top of whatever is going on with Sam."

"Does Quackity just...go out of his way to piss everyone off?" Karl contemplated his charge, his expression more uncertain than angry.

"What do you mean?" Eret gave him a worried look.

"Why else would Sam attack him, like this?" Karl was staring down at Quackity intently, as if trying to divine insight into his ability to come into conflict with former friends. "It's not like he hasn't alienated almost everyone - you; me; Dream; Mexican Dream; Charlie; now, apparently, Sam..." His voice lowered, slightly. "...everyone but Sapnap, apparently..."

"Karl...I want to ask how you could forget one of the most important people in your life...but...I also understand how unsettling it is, to learn that you have..." Eret glanced towards the doors, knowing that Foolish could hold his own, but still uneasy that she'd left him to do so. "You, Sapnap and Quackity were all engaged, last I knew - and he certainly needs us, right now..."

"I'm surprised Sapnap let me near him, after the last several days..."

Eret chuckled, somewhat ruefully. "Really? I understand it, completely. You, like I, have been sent to relative safety, using Quackity's wellbeing as an excuse...though it does at least appear to be a valid excuse."

Karl nodded, his expression taking on a hint of concern. "I do remember enough about him, to know that something is wrong with him - I've seen him take harder hits, when we were all just messing around...but this time, he threw up, and passed out."

Eret sighed, taking in Quackity's greenish pallor. "Was he drunk, or merely hung over?"

"I don't know, I wasn't close enough to him, to tell - but maybe it's something else..."

"Like what?" Eret glanced into the elevator as the doors open, and motioned for Karl to drag Quackity in.

"The version of Sam who hit him, fell over when he did - almost like he got hit by his own attack."

"Like...thorns on armor?" Eret hit the button as the elevator doors closed.

"Or some sort of poison attack? I didn't see him use a potion, but that's because it was the first attack..." He shivered. "I only looked, because of the sound Quackity made..."

Quackity woke with a start, as the train lurched to a stop...the train, again? Shaking his head to clear it, he had to lean against the wall for a long moment after he stood, to keep from falling back into the seat: the platform was wavering, as he staggered out onto it. "What the hell...how'd I...I don't remember...going to sleep? Am I dreaming? Or..."

The snippets of the hushed conversations he'd heard the others having, starting at the impromptu slumber party they'd had at his penthouse, were...bizarre, to say the least: the others seemed to think that maybe this wasn't a dream, that he was somehow in Limbo, that he'd really talked to Glatt...that the food that he'd eaten in that dream was what he'd thrown up, clearly alarming Sapnap, for him to wake the others and drag them over, in the middle of the night...

Foolish was particularly worried, about the food...

Quackity's stomach growled at the memory of the anticuchos...of course he'd dreamed about one of his favorite childhood memories: his bisabuela, and her cooking - he'd never felt unwanted in her house, and if she was still alive, he had no doubt that she'd be able to chase away the empty feeling that almost made him welcome pain, of late. At least pain was something to react against, as opposed to just existing...

Pain...yes. There it was, radiating from deep inside as he climbed into the light of the world above the train platform, clutching the stair railing in a white knuckled attempt to stay upright. That's why he was dizzy...he'd been...hit...by...Sam? But why would Sam attack him, like that...and the look on his face...in his eyes...his red eyes... Quackity's eyes widened. Red eyes...but the Egg had been defeated, and neutralized...

...by Sam...

"¡Ay, chingados!" Exactly who was actually in control, between the two of them? And for how long...

"Tal lenguaje, cariño..." Despite the dismayed click of a tongue, the voice was gentle.

Looking up, he saw the same woman who'd greeted him, last time....what the...heck... "Uhh...sorry...I...lo siento..."

She was looking him over with concern, instead of anger. "You don't look so good, mijo...come with me. You can lie down while I make you something to eat, to help settle your stomach."

"Is it that obvious?" He muttered, feeling his face flame with embarrassment.

Holding out her hand, she smiled, gently. "Once you have children, you'll begin to recognize such things, yourself."

Taking her hand, he let her pull him through the streets, until she came to a small house almost half hidden by a large garden: almost the second he stepped onto the narrow path leading to the wooden door, he felt strangely more at ease...enough so to remember that the first time they'd met, she'd been working. "Wait...what about your food cart?"

"That can wait, niño...someone needs to look after you, right now." Opening the door, she led him into a somehow achingly familiar living room.

"I'm not a kid anymore...I actually own my own business, which is why I know leaving one unattended is a he...ck of a risk, to take for a stranger..." He sank into the sofa, unable to restrain a sigh of contentment so long overdue that the sound startled him.

"You will always be a child of your family, mijito...even once you have your own." She smiled, heading into the kitchen. "How does sopa de tortilla sound?"

Despite it's persistent though slowly dulling ache, Quackity's stomach growled, loudly. "Like heaven..." He admitted, blushing deeply at her knowing chuckle.

"I'll be right back." She smiled, and headed towards the kitchen.

It wasn't until he was looking around at the decorations, with mild puzzlement at why he knew there would be certain flowers in that vase, or that the candle in front of the picture frame on the fireplace mantel was the source of the light scent of tobacco in the air - which was still comforting, somehow, despite the memory of Schlatt's cigars - that he thought to wonder why he knew the way to the kitchen... It was because it had to be, he reasoned: this was the first room in the house, so logically the kitchen had to be further in, and therefore, through that door. His hostess was singing softly as she gathered things: the light clink of metal and ceramic tugged at a distant memory. "Why is it so familiar..." He muttered, to himself.

"I made you some tea, as well...it should help your stomach." She was carrying a full tray, when she returned: a full bowl of steaming, aromatic soup was surrounded by tortillas; sliced avocado; crema; cotija; and a thick clay mug of tea that smelled sweet and minty.

"I haven't eaten this well in months..." He stared at the small feast in front of him.

"You need to take care of yourself, mijo...more than ever, now."

Glancing up at her, he gave her an uncertain smile. "Because I only have one life left, if I get to go back to it?"

"You will..." She smiled, sympathetically. "...you have to, at this point - but you aren't going back hungry, if I have anything to say about it...which I do." She nodded at the food. "Eat, and rest, while I clean up the kitchen."

"Gracias." The soup sent warmth flowing through him, from both it's temperature and the perfect amount of spice: that, and the relaxing atmosphere of hearing her sing in the next room as she worked, quickly had him reclining in the corner of the sofa, nestling into the pile of decorative cushions accumulated there. Humming along to the familiar songs, he felt himself slipping into a pleasant semiconsciousness, before she returned.

The feeling of a blanket being spread over him was enough to make him stop fighting to stay awake...at least in Limbo...

Quackity sat bolt upright on the narrow bed, startling everyone in the room - and it was a fair crowd, in front of which he leaned over the side of the bed, and threw up. The scent was unpleasant, but not nearly as bad as the...night before? He hoped?

"I see what you mean." An unexpected voice commented dryly, as multiple hands reached to steady him; hold back his hair; rub his back; and hold out a bottle of water.

"Phi...Philza?" He was shaking, as he slowly glanced up from behind the hair that...Foolish?...had caught and held back. Taking the water from Fundy, he managed to uncork it and raise it to his lips, without spilling any. "What brings you here?"

"Put bluntly?" Philza gave him a contemplative look. "My son's actions. Again."

"What?" He shook his head. "No, he left me...left...the server..."

"About that..." Foolish helped him sit up in the hospital bed.

"There is nothing, about that." Turning red, he looked away.

"Are you sure about that, mate?" Philza's carefully gentle tone was somehow scarier than anger would have been.

Quackity managed to meet his gaze, for a brief moment. "Dream's the one who blew up Las Nevadas...he used Charlie to do it...apparently, he also turned Sam, somehow..."

"That wasn't Sam, Quackity." Eret held up a chunk of red vine. "The Egg is back: it very much appears that we were all mistaken as to Sam's role in it's containment."

"Oh...yeah, I...remember the red eyes, now..." He shook his head, to try and clear it. "But Wilbur never even met the Egg...did he?"

Eret glanced at Foolish, her eyes widening. "If he did, and he left...he could be..."

"Trying to spread it, elsewhere." Foolish finished the thought. "Did he mention where he was going?"

"I very much doubt that the Egg had anything to do with Wilbur's actions." Philza drew their attention back to him. "Especially the ones that we need to talk about."

"Oh. Yeah." Foolish's expression became one of discomfort. "How do we..."

"Just...say it." Sapnap walked towards the bed, pulling something out of his pocket. "Wilbur left you more than this letter."

Taking the well worn paper, Quackity used staring down at it as an excuse to not meet Sapnap's gaze. "Sap...I..."

"He took advantage of the situation...you were drunk. I know." His voice was still angry. "He took what he wanted, and he left..."

Philza shifted uncomfortably. "And when he did...he placed Quackity in harm's way."

Quackity's startled gaze snapped up to meet Philza's for a moment, before settling on Sapnap, who's expression was clearly furious...but not at him. "What?"

Foolish and Eret glanced at each other: the latter sighed. "Right - someone's got to just say it..." Taking a deep breath, she reached out and set a hand over Quackity's. "Quackity, you're pregnant. And there are...complications."

"That's putting it mildly..." Philza muttered - his presence suddenly making a lot more sense...

"So...you're not here...because of me dreaming about being in Limbo?"

Philza gave him a long look, his eyes flicking only briefly to the puddle on the floor. "You're not dreaming, when you're there, Quackity."

"But...I'm not dead..."

"But you have died, recently, which is the other part of a very nasty equation." Philza sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We've been trying to put things together, and what we've come up with is: shortly after you and Wilbur...said goodbye...Dream attacked, and you died. But you weren't the only one."

"Wait...if...if I was pregnant when I died...how am I still pregnant?" Setting the water bottle aside, he settled his hand over his stomach, remembering the pain he'd felt...wait... "The pain's gone...what..." His breathing deepened and sped up, his other hand suddenly gripping Eret's almost painfully.

"You're still pregnant." She hastened to reassure him.

"But that's not exactly the blessing it should be." Philza softly cautioned.

"Okay..." He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "...why don't you start with how, for now?"

"It's partly my fault...maybe..." Foolish sighed. "Because I was nearby, we think that all the energy released by the slime army got...redirected..."

"Because the child is my grandchild." Philza let his wings spread out to frame him. "And therefore, heir to my title as angel of death."

Quackity blinked, then turned to stare at Fundy, who was very intently retrieving a potion from the chest in the corner. "But...I don't remember Wilbur having any problems, in L'Manberg?"

Philza shook his head. "That's because he gave birth to Fundy, himself. Now, that might not have been a problem, except for the part where you died while pregnant, meaning the child also died..."

"But it...came back?"

"It never left, because of it's nature..." Philza glanced at Foolish. "...and because you ended up literally in the arms of a giant totem of undying, bathed in an insane amount of expended life energy: the baby instinctively used it's innate talents, to feed off of that energy. The problem is: it's a child. It has no restraint, no control, it just feeds off of the energy it's drawn to."

"So it's...eating souls?"

"Part of them, yes - specifically their ties to the realm of the living. That's what our job is: to free the spirit from the physical form. And that's the problem."

"Am I going to have to kill people, to keep the baby alive?"

"Absolutely not." Philza gave him a stern look. "In fact: you need to stay out of fights, as of right now - because of what just happened."

"What happened..." His voice was bewildered and tense: something in his tone made Sapnap close the distance between himself and the bed, placing his hand very gently over Quackity's.

"Sam...or...whatever is controlling his bodies..." He glanced at Philza, who had a very dark look on his face, then stared at his estranged fiancé. "...when he attacked you, it was enough to..." Feeling Quackity starting to tremble, slightly, he trailed off.

"The baby has died twice." Philza continued in a softly matter of fact tone. "This time, it took most of what it needed out of Sam, and the rest out of you, like any normal baby feeds off of its mother..."

"So I was in Limbo, because...I died, a little?"

Philza motioned to the floor. "You were in Limbo, because the baby needed the kind of energy that it's apparently getting from you eating, while you're there."

"Which would normally not be the best idea, in the world..." Foolish added.

"But for now, it's maintaining a delicate balance." Philza continued. "The baby is literally pulling you towards the energy that it needs - the problem being: that energy is part of death, which is most definitely not good for you."

"The baby died? Twice?" Quackity didn't fight, as Eret slid an oxygen mask over his face.

"Try to stay calm." She squeezed his hand.

"And if it dies one more time, you likely won't be coming back from Limbo." Philza's words caused the entire room to go completely still, for a long moment. "We're going to have to go to great lengths to maintain this pregnancy, as it is - so no more fights, no more risks..."

"We weren't looking for the fight...Sam attacked, out of the blue..." Sapnap objected.

"Not out of the blue." Eret sighed, deeply. "He's...that...body...was likely under the control of the Egg. It's back, and more powerful than it was, before."

Foolish shivered. "And Sam's not the only person it's corrupted."

"But it clearly wasn't anticipating that the baby would kill him back." Sapnap let his fingers slide between Quackity's, to rest over his stomach. "I like this kid, already."

Quackity stared up at him, his eyes guarded but hopeful. "You...do?"

"Quackity...I...we clearly have some things that we need to discuss...but you have to be alive, for that, so..." Sapnap tore his gaze away from his fiancé, and turned to Philza. "So...keep him alive, and out of fights...sounds easy enough, with all of us..."

Philza sighed, heavily. "And prepare."

"For what?"

"The baby's not just going to spring forth from Quackity full grown, mate..."

Eret muffled a snicker, at Philza's mildly exasperated inflection. "I assume that Quackity's still going to have to eat, in the land of the living? And more than normal, meaning we'll have to avoid the Eggpire cutting us off from resources?"

"It's not even that easy." Philza pointed to Quackity's heart rate, on the nearby monitor.

"It looks fine to me?" Sapnap queried, nervously.

"That's just it - Quackity's just learned that the Eggpire is back; that he's pregnant...by Wilbur, I might add; the baby's died twice; he's been visiting the land of the dead; and the pregnancy's only going to get more complicated...that thing should be going crazy, right now, but both his pulse and his blood pressure are low, if anything." Philza aimed the rest of his response directly at Quackity. "When I said that if the baby dies, again, you won't be leaving Limbo...there's every chance that carrying it to term will have the same effect...I'm sorry."

Quackity stared at him for a long moment, then glanced at Sapnap, before settling his gaze on their partially clasped hands. "At least that death will mean something."

"There's got to be some way around that." Sapnap's grip tightened.

"I'm working on that, mate...but my efforts don't always pan out, so everyone needs to know that if I can't figure it out, Quackity will very probably die, and possibly, others, too."

"But...it's his last life..."

Philza gave him a long, uncomfortable look. "Did you not hear the part about the baby's powers involving severing the tie between body and spirit? There's every chance that anyone involved in the birth could die and stay dead, no matter what life they're on."

Quackity started to sit up, but was quickly restrained by Eret and Foolish pushing his shoulders back into the pillows, and Sapnap's hand tightening almost painfully around his. "I'm the only one who has to die."

"No, you don't!" Sapnap shouted. "We'll find a way..."

"And before you think of just sneaking off while no one's looking..." Philza gave him a knowing look. "...we'll be able to track you, from the effects of the baby's powers. And if the baby dies again...I'm honestly not sure what kind of disaster you'll be unleashing, but it certainly won't be good."

"I don't want anyone else to die, because of my stupidity." Quackity managed to keep from shouting, but his voice was shaking, as he stared at Philza. "Can I really not just...go far enough away, to keep everyone safe? Isolate myself?"

"In that fantasy, if we entertain it...exactly who would help you through the birth?" Philza kept his tone gentle, but firm. "And no matter what our differences have been in the past...I can't see you wanting to risk abandoning your own newborn child, to become the thing of nightmares."

"I don't want to hurt anyone else."

Foolish glanced at Quackity's attempt at a stoic expression, and started to speak - but Sapnap beat him to it. "Everybody out. Now."

As they left the infirmary, Eret turned to Philza. "Is there no chance that they could both survive this?"

"There's always a chance...it's just a very small one." Philza shook his head. "And we've got to worry about literally everyone else, also."

"Is there anything we can do?"

Philza sighed. "Gapples, maybe? Totems of undying, if there are any left to be had?"

Foolish flinched slightly, at that.

"If we need to evade the Eggpire without a fight...seeking out woodland mansions might be a good idea, anyhow." Eret pointed out.

"You're not wrong...but I need to go and discuss all of this with someone, now that I know the full impact of Will's carelessness."

"To be fair, he was drunk, and presumably believed that he was giving Quackity what he wanted."

Philza gave an exasperated chuckle. "You're being far more forgiving of his actions than I would be in your position, Eret...it's probably for the best that he's left, because if he was here, I'm honestly not sure I could keep the discussion we'd be having, civil."

"Exactly what kind of danger could this child possibly pose?"

"Do you remember what I used to be like?" Foolish's voice was soft. "Imagine that, but in a child. No restraint, no remorse...just an insatiable taste for death."

"I didn't want to speak the full truth in there..." Philza shook his head. "...but unless we figure something out, and fast...Quackity's already slowly wasting away. He's only going to get sicker while he's awake, and spend more and more time in Limbo, in his sleep, until he just...doesn't wake up. We're going to have a running fight on our hands, just to keep him alive long enough to give birth, much less through the birth. And the worse off he gets, the more likely it is that the effects will start spreading to everyone and everything around him."

"And if we fail, and he dies, before it's time?"

"The baby dying in any way, including because Quackity has, will result in the child becoming an angel of death without ever having lived. Without any of the restraint or sympathy we learn, growing up. It will see the tethers between body and soul as candy, and have all the restraint of a hungry toddler left unsupervised in a sweet shop." Philza turned away from the other two, and started towards his home, and the dark forest nearby. "So pack your things, if you really mean to try and save us all...we should leave as soon as Quackity's fit to travel, because he might not be, for very long."

Eret paled, but managed to maintain a calm but determined tone. "You mentioned gapples?"

He nodded. "They'll replenish the energy the baby's taking from Quackity, at the very least."

Foolish gave Eret a reassuring smile. "We've dealt with worse threats - all we have to do is keep Quackity alive, while we dodge the Eggpire. It definitely reminds me of the wither cult..."

Chapter Text

Quackity stared at them, his careful mask slipping. "You were serious, about leaving? Even after all the work we've all put in, to rebuild, after Dream…" His breath caught, his arm subconsciously wrapping around his midsection. "So...we're letting him win? Running away?"

"Quackity…" Sapnap reached out, intending on pulling him towards the sofa.

Quackity gave him a look, avoiding his hand. "Just like Wilbur did?"

Most of the assembled friends winced, at that. "We're not letting anyone win, Quackity…" Philza's voice was calm, and clearly meant to be soothing. "...we're just trying to keep you alive, to be able to continue the fight."

"Fight for what, when either Dream or the Eggpire is probably going to destroy Las Nevadas – and Kinoko Kingdom, Pandas...either that, or he'll take it over, for himself...there'll be nothing left to fight for."

"We'll still have each other." Eret glanced at Foolish, then stepped forward, handing Quackity a mug of coffee. "Buildings can be rebuilt...even the Archives, though some of the artifacts may be irreplaceable…" She tilted her glasses down, fixing her glowing white eyes on his. "...because so are you. So is Foolish. So is everyone in this room .There's no point in recording history, if no one is left to learn from it."

"And if we're going to learn from history…" Philza sighed. "...staying in these kingdoms you've created will only make it easier for Dream to target us all."

Karl raised his hand, then reddened as everyone turned to him, with varying degrees of amusement. "But he's going to notice that we've left...won't he just follow us?"

Foolish glanced at Quackity. "We have a way to make Las Nevadas not look abandoned….and...what if we make it look like we're building up to something? It might keep Dream's attention long enough for us to get far enough away that he can't pick up our trail, easily…"

Quackity turned to him. "You're talking about the slime army?" He laughed, humorlessly. "Yeah, sure...because Slime has never turned against us…"

Foolish winced, and gave Eret a concerned glance. "The army didn't turn on us, though...they're the reason that there was enough of Las Nevadas left, to repair."

Quackity took a long sip of his coffee. "But we're leaving them here, unsupervised...what's to stop him from turning them against us, and using them to hunt us down?"

"The fact that we've taught them that he's public enemy number one?"

"Charlie should have known that." His voice was flat. "But he didn't." He walked towards his bedroom, leaving the others sitting stunned and uncertain how to respond.

Philza was the first to follow. "Even if he does turn them, it will take him time...precious time, during which we can find a place to hide."

"Hide." Quackity shook his head. "So he wins – we're running away, and hiding. Handing him everything we worked so hard to create...everything that I could possibly leave, to the baby…"

"Children don't need big, fancy cities, Quackity – they need parents." Philza sighed, deeply, the tone of it causing the other man to falter in his steps. "All you have to do for proof of that, is look at Will. Which is why I'm going to do everything in my power to keep you alive."

"Or me…" Fundy's voice was soft.

Quackity turned to face him with a startled look, as if he'd forgotten that he was in the room...and found his expression mirrored in multiple faces, as Sapnap hurriedly stepped forward. "What…"

"Your nose is bleeding, again." Gently placing an arm around Quackity's shoulders, he led him towards the bathroom, instead.

"Fuck." The amount of despair in the single, trembling word made most of the others flinch.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Philza turned to Foolish. "You seem to know him best, after Sapnap – can you pack what he'll need?"

"I can do it." Karl interjected, heading towards the bedroom. "Someone needs to pack the stuff Sapnap's left in there, too, and Foolish needs to go pack for his kids."

"All right, mate...maybe leave behind his less practical clothes? His suits won't fit him very much longer, anyhow, and we don't want to be weighed down by unnecessary things."

"Karl...are you sure?" Foolish stared down at the other man.

Karl nodded. "You need to go get your kids, and all your stuff…you have three people to pack for, so we'll probably be back in Kinoko, getting the rest of our stuff, before you're done."

Philza nodded, glancing at Eret and Fundy. "We should also go, and meet back together in Kinoko Kingdom with what we need to survive."

As half of the entourage left, Karl pulled open Quackity's closet, and found himself staring at an open box…

Quackity pulled on Ossium's reins, just before the border of Kinoko Kingdom. "Are you sure this is okay, with Karl?"

"He packed your things, Quackity...I think he's over it." Sapnap slowly reached out, laying his hand over Quackity's. "And it'll take a lot less time, if you can pack up the rest of our stuff, while I help Karl pack up the library."

Quackity chuckled. "Yeah...he won't leave without it, will he?"

When they both glanced his way, Karl had turned his horse around, and was staring at them, halfway to the library. "Come on, you two...we have to hurry!"

Sapnap paused in the doorway of their bedroom, after pointing out the important chests. "You really were supposed to be here with us...I...I don't know…"

"It's okay...Karl's not the only one, who doesn't think I'm good enough..."

Sapnap stared at him for a moment, before storming over and pulling a startled Quackity into a tight embrace. "Stop that."

"I guess I should be glad that Wilbur at least didn't kill me, when he left...except…" He was shaking slightly. "...maybe he did? Probably…"

"No." Sapnap kissed him. "We're going to get through this...all of us."

"Would you be as accepting, if I wasn't probably going to die?"

"You were drunk...you were vulnerable – which is partially my fault…" Sapnap was rocking him gently, the way he usually did for PTSD episodes. "...and you don't deserve all the shit you've been through, lately...much less to suffer through this, alone."

"Charlie would disagree."

"Not about...this…" Sapnap shook his head.

"Why not? I was stupid enough to try and stop Wilbur from leaving – I invited him into my home, even knowing that nothing good comes from that man; I got drunk, and admitted my feelings to a narcissist; and I cheated...if we are still engaged? Everyone's acting like we are…"

"Of course we are."

"Because you really want it, or because you feel sorry for me?"

"What…"

"Karl doesn't want it...are you sure you do? I mean...it's not exactly fair of me, to expect you to raise another guy's kid, especially with the problems it's going to cause."

"I...we don't have time to argue about this, right now...yeah, we're still…"

Quackity pulled back enough to stare into Sapnap's very worried gaze. "You don't have to run with me, Pandas...you could stay here with Karl...Dream will chase after me, you should be…"

"No." Sapnap's arms tightened around him. "We're going with you."

"Is that what Karl wants? Really?"

Sapnap tried to gently turn him towards the bed. "Why don't you lie down, and I'll pack?"

"I'm not on death's doorstep...yet…" Quackity headed to the first chest, opened it, and began going through it. "Just what we need to survive...if you're crazy enough to actually follow me…"

"If we don't, Dream will just try to use us against you." Sapnap reasoned, helping to sort the contents of the box.

Eyeing him, Quackity sighed, deeply. "You're not going to help Karl?"

"I'm not leaving you alone, in this mental state."

Quackity chuckled. "You mean you're not letting me out of your sight."

"Exactly."

Packing thankfully went very fast, with the two of them: heading towards the library, Quackity paused by the wagon their belongings had been stacked on. "Maybe you should go get him...Kinoko is one thing, but...his library?"

Sapnap gave him a long look.

He sighed. "I promise I'll still be here, when you come out...all our stuff is mixed together, on this thing."

"Okay." Sapnap startled him with a kiss, then headed into the library. "Karl? I'm sorry I took so long..."

"It's okay, Sap…" Karl appeared from behind an empty bookcase. "It...gave me time…" He glanced towards the door. "Is Quackity…?"

"He's waiting outside, because he doesn't want to upset you."

"Okay...I know this is going to sound...very strange, but...I need to go to the house, to grab a couple of things."

"We might have packed them, already…"

Karl shook his head. "No – you wouldn't have, because they're not completely necessary...except...I think they might be...can you just trust me on this? Please?"

Sapnap nodded. "As long as we're ready, by the time the others get here."

Karl nodded, then gave him a worried look. "We're...really all engaged, aren't we?"

Sapnap's eyes widened. "Yeah...are you...starting to remember?"

"I…" Karl reddened. "I wish...Sap...how could I forget something like that?"

Sapnap sighed, shaking his head. "Maybe we can figure that out, once we have a safe place to guard Quackity."

"Then I'll go get those last things, if you'll get my boxes loaded." He indicated the small pile beside the door, and ran towards home…pulling out a picture he'd found in one of his books, and staring at it, once he was behind closed doors…

Sapnap rejoined Quackity beside the wagon, raising a concerned eyebrow at his pallor. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just...really tired, all of a sudden."

"Why don't you get on the wagon, and maybe take a nap, before the others get here?"

"Because I have a suggestion, of one last place we should stop, before we leave."

"Where's that, mate?" Philza's voice preceded the rest of their entourage into Kinoko.

"Church Prime...because the holy water effects the Egg, somehow."

Sapnap hugged him. "We'd stop there, even without that, as a reason."

Philza nodded. "It's a good idea, honestly – we should all make sure that no remnants of the Egg come along with us."

"You mean...we should all bathe in the holy water?" Her hand straying up towards her throat, Eret shivered, and nodded. "I think I'd like that…"

Foolish set a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Let's get going, then."

"As soon as Karl comes out." Sapnap glanced towards the house, his curiosity buried by concern over both of his fiances.

"Quackity." Philza caught his arm, as they passed in the doorway of Church Prime. "I brought you some of my spare shirts, so you don't have to keep your wings contained – your back's going to hurt enough without, in a few months."

Quackity blinked rapidly, trying to contain at least part of his reaction. "Thanks, Philza…"

Seeing the extra shine in his eyes, Philza gave him a sympathetic, understanding
smile, and headed towards the others.

Entering the water left him feeling...numb, really: he stared around the church he'd helped build, where Dream had proclaimed himself god…

Of course, it had technically been true…

Was DreamXD any better, than his former host?

Was Dream still part deity, somehow?

Would that mean that he'd literally managed to incur the wrath of a god?

If he was...wasn't this whole thing doomed from the start, because his well being – hell, his mere existence – was an affront, to God?

Unless...whichever god was in charge, was responsible for all of it…

And Dream had brought back Wilbur…and then attacked him, causing the baby's first death, with his own...

Suddenly shivering far harder despite the warmth of the water, he scrambled out of the sunken font, shaking the water from his wings. "Was it you?" His arm wrapped around his midsection, protectively. "Do you really hate me, that much? Enough to steal lives from my kid? Just to kill me, and anyone stupid enough to stay with me, out of pity?" As he clutched a pew to steady himself, his hand settled on the shirt Philza had given him. "Or guilt?" He was breathing hard...he could feel his heart pounding...his hand was shaking...his stomach feeling like it was about to turn inside out… "God...was this...the first time? Or was Schlatt? Did you hand me over to him, just for the revive book? Which one of you were you, by that point?" The thought of his abusive ex had him hyperventilating enough that his vision was starting to fade, slightly, as he pulled on his clothes faster than he had in a very long time. "Are you even going to be happy, when I'm dead? Or are you going to keep torturing me, in the afterlife? God...you've attacked me at every chance...I can't have a country to call home...a relationship...even a friend...you fucking mean for me to die, don't you? Before I can even hold this baby...knowing that either it will kill everyone I still care about, or they'll abandon it, because they have to…you're...going to make me watch that, aren't you? And he's only going to resur...resurrec...me...when...it's too laaa..." He hit his knees as his stomach lurched, violently, the taste of blood only making the nausea worse…

As his vision returned, slowly, he realized that someone was holding him back from falling into the bloody mess, and very gently rubbing his back, between his wings and shoulder blades. "...going to be all right…" The voice was low, soothing, repeating the comforting words...when he quit shaking, and started to lean back, the arms around him helped him sit up, without letting go. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"I just changed…"

"And you managed to not mess up your clothes...mostly...but you do have a nosebleed…"

"Again?" The plaintive tone of the word made Eret pause, and eye him carefully.

"I'll go get your medicine." Sapnap's voice came from the doorway.

"Oh, god…" Quackity turned deep red. "How...how much of that...did everyone hear?"

"We did notice that you were yelling...but we thought it best to allow you your space, for what was clearly meant to be a private...conversation?...until we heard…" She glanced towards the puddle on the floor.

"I must have sounded like a crazy person."

"You sounded...upset...which is completely understandable…" She gave him a worried look. "Quackity...you haven't even had a chance, to fully process...any of it – if you need to talk…"

"Talking won't change anything...and you're already abandoning everything, just to...babysit…"

"Oh, no." Eret shook her head. "I am not changing diapers."

Quackity gave her a wide eyed look, then started laughing…until he ended up sobbing against her shoulder. "I hope...I get to…"

"What?" Startled, Eret began gently caressing his hair.

"I was...hoping...with Las Nevadas...that maybe...when the time was right...I'd get to...raise my kid...this time…"

"This time?" Catching Sapnap's gaze as he froze in the doorway, she gave him the slightest shake of her head, hoping he'd take the hint: Sapnap nodded, and quietly backed out of the building...to be quickly pulled aside by Karl.

"We were...going to be married...me and Sap...and Karl...so at least...this kid would be born...legitimate...it was supposed to be...a safe place...for us all...the baby...would have a family…" The words paused, for a long moment: the shaking breaths and tears didn't. "...I'd have...a family…"

"I'd say you do have a family, Quackity…" Eret's voice was soft, but serious. "Look at everyone here…"

"Or…" Karl's voice drew their attention to the door of the Church. "...we could make it official…"

Seeing Karl dressed in a tuxedo made Quackity's trembling breath catch in his chest, for a long moment. "Wh...what…?"

Karl held up a notebook. "You kept this...despite us abandoning El Rapids...despite me forgetting…"

"Because I meant Las Nevadas...to be our home."

"Home is wherever your family is." Sapnap entered the church, tugging at the collar of his dress shirt. "But the Church, we might not ever see again, so let's make use of it, while we're here…"

"What?"

Karl and Sapnap glanced at each other, before both coming closer to kneel next to Quackity. "As long as you don't expect us to say our vows anywhere near perfectly…"

Karl elbowed him, lightly. "We're at least willing to try to say them...but...were you actually going to sing yours?" He gave Quackity a tentative smile.

"Yeah...but...you guys don't have to…"

"Sap's right – this might be our only chance to do this right. And doesn't the baby deserve to have a family?"

"Do you have any idea what you're signing up for?" Quackity stared at them. "I'm probably not even going to make it…you won't just be trying to protect me from Dream...you'll end up having to take care of me, even though I'll probably end up dead, anyhow..."

"Don't say that." Sapnap looked terrified, for a single moment.

"That sounds like 'in sickness and in health', to me." Karl handed him the book.

"...and then, you'll be stuck with a kid that's not even yours."

"Better them, than Wilbur." Fundy's voice came from the doorway: behind him, Philza facepalmed, at the interruption of the intimate discussion.

"Families aren't always about blood, Quackity..." Eret gently pointed out. "...I've adopted Fundy, and Foolish adopted both of his children…"

"Ranboo and Tubbo adopted Michael…" Philza added softly. "...and I'll be around to help them deal with the child's powers." His voice more than indicated that they would have no choice in the matter. "As well as ensuring that they learn how to treat a child, in general."

Sapnap winced, at the accusatory tone.

Oblivious to the unspoken tension, Karl took Quackity's hand. "So…? Will you marry us, so we can be a family, for both you and the baby?"

"Are you just doing this out of pity, Karl? Because you didn't want anything to do with me, when I visited Kinoko…"

Karl's smile slipped, slightly. "Quackity...I...I seriously don't remember...a lot, apparently…"

"Which means: you'll be taking on that 'in sickness and in health' thing, too." Sapnap added, softly. "We all will...the way the vows mean…"

"You're really willing to risk Dream coming after you, because you're protecting my kid?"

Karl smiled. "Our kid."

Sapnap nodded. "Especially since it sounds like the kid isn't exactly going to be helpless…" He glanced back at Philza. "If the kid manages to...do whatever you guys do, to separate souls from bodies, will the Revive book even work, on Dream, if the kid does that to him?"

"It worked on Wilbur." Fundy pointed out, in an annoyed tone.

Philza sighed. "That...may be because of him being what he is."

"Will it work on me?" Quackity's barely audible question might as well have been a cannon, firing into the momentarily silent room. "Not that Dream would use it for any nice purpose…"

"I'll make him." Sapnap growled.

"No fighting, remember?" Philza gave an exasperated sigh. "If the child's life is threatened, including by Quackity's death, it's highly likely that no one will be left breathing, to read the damned book."

"Even one of us?" Fundy turned to his grandfather, curiously.

"Fundy...there's a very large chance that you'll not gain reaper powers, and being anywhere near will cost you your last life."

"What?"

Philza forced himself to meet the younger man's eyes. "When you jumped...you technically reaped yourself. I'm not sure, yet, what consequences it will have in regards to you becoming an angel of death."

"So...the one good thing my father could have left me...he managed to take away…" Fundy shook his head. "Typical." He turned on his heel, and ran out of the church.

"Fundy…" Eret stared after him, concerned.

"Stay here. I'll go after him." Philza gave her a tired half smile. "You've got a wedding to prepare for, if I'm reading the rest of the room, right…"

"Wot?"

"As the officiant – you're a monarch, and one of the few good things about that, is: you can marry people."

"Oh. Right." Eret returned her attention to Quackity, who was staring up at her, equally startled by the revelation. "As I've said: you've already got a family...this would just make it official."

Quackity's good eye filled with tears...which further caused the blood from his nose to spread.

"Why don't we get you cleaned up, first, then we can discuss the wedding?" Sapnap held out tissues, and Quackity's nasal spray.

Quackity nodded, taking the medicine. "At least there's nothing left, for me to throw up…"

Karl gave him a startled look. "Is it normal, for morning sickness to show up so soon?"

Quackity chuckled, ruefully. "It shows up whenever the hell it decides to...I just got...a little worked up, and the medicine causes nausea…" He sighed. "...meaning: I really hope I don't keep needing it, now that I'm not living in the desert." Inhaling the mist, he nearly doubled over, from his stomach's reaction. "Ngghh…"

"Here." Karl handed him a bottle of water, as Sapnap began rubbing his shoulders.

As the nausea passed, Quackity glanced from one to the other. "If this is what 'in sickness and in health' will get me...I'm in…"

Karl grinned. "I'll go get your suit."

"What?" He stared up at Sapnap as Karl ran towards the door.

Sapnap shrugged, with a grin. "He's the one who packed our tuxes...and your lines, apparently…"

Quackity reddened. "So...he's seriously…willing to marry me, just because I'm dying?"

Sapnap gave him an irritable look. "You're not dying."

He met his fiance's gaze with a deep sigh. "Just promise me that you won't really let Dream bring me back...because he'll find a way to make it worse than dying."

Sapnap stared at him, shocked…

...but was spared having to answer, by Karl's return. "Here it is!" Pulling the tuxedo out of the garment bag, he draped it carefully over a pew.

Half an hour later, Quackity took a deep breath, praying that he still remembered the words he'd chosen for his vows, despite not having practiced them in months...not having looked at them, since the...misunderstanding?...in Kinoko… He stared into Karl's eyes, still confused as to why he'd agree to this, if he truly had no memory of their relationship...and began to sing the song he'd chosen, because the wording held special meaning, between them…

"Never knew I could feel like this, like I've never seen the sky before…" He reddened, slightly, at the anticipated intimacy of the next line. "I want to vanish inside your kiss, every day I love you more and more…" The extremely touched look on Karl's face made it easier to continue. "Listen to my heart, can't you hear it sing: telling me to give you everything. Seasons may change, Winter to Spring, but I love you, until the end of time." Sapnap was grinning at the both of them, as Karl's eyes sparkled with tears, in the candlelight. "Come what may...come what may...I will love you, until my dying day…"
His breath caught in his chest, but he forced himself to pull in the air to continue. "Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place...suddenly it moves with such perfect grace...suddenly...my life...doesn't seem such a waste…"

Karl's rapt expression slipped, and he glanced at Sapnap, who placed an arm around Quackity's shoulders, taking an uncertain breath. "And there's no mountain too high, no river too wide, sing out this song, and I'll be there, by your side…"

"Storm clouds may gather, and stars may collide…" Karl took over, taking both of Quackity's hands in his. "...but I love you, until the end of time…come what may…"

"Come what may…" Sapnap echoed.

"I will...love you…" Quackity finally managed. "...until…"

Sapnap and Karl both caught him as his knees gave out, ending up kneeling together to hold him up. "Until the end of time." Karl spoke the words, softly.

"That's not...how the song ends…"

"And this isn't how your life ends." Karl leaned forward, gently kissing him, which was enough to startle his tears away. "I'm going to say I told you so, just so you know…"

Quackity started to laugh, to the relief of everyone in the church.

Sapnap exited the tent looking shell shocked: Philza handed him a strong drink. "You all right, mate?"

"I...he..."

Philza gave a sympathetic chuckle. "Let me guess: he passed out, after, and is sleeping a little more like the dead, than you'd prefer?"

"Karl had to use a mirror, to figure out if he's still breathing." Sapnap blurted, wide eyed and pale. "Did we…?"

The older man chuckled. "No – after the day and week and month he's had, he's just out cold...but that will become more and more literal, for him…"

"Because...he's visiting Limbo?"

"Because his soul is somewhere in the land of the dead, yes."

Sapnap chugged the drink without sipping it first, and began coughing – it didn't stop him from also chugging the first refill, though he slowed down, on the second. "Doing what we were doing won't hurt him or the baby, will it?"

"No, mate...in fact, it will probably help him cling to life just a little harder. As well as the normal benefits of intimacy, during pregnancy." He glanced towards the tent. "Hopefully, it's enough to balance what he's getting, from the other side…"

Quackity found himself grinning, as he exited the train: between him still wearing his tuxedo and the afterglow of what had happened when the suit had come off, in the living world, his bisabuela was smiling almost as broadly, by the time he reached her food stand. "You're glowing like a cathedral at Christmas...and dressed so fancy…"

"I got married!" He hugged her, spinning her around.

Her smile was like the sun: taking him by the hand, she pulled him towards the house. "Then you need a proper wedding feast."

"But...my fian...my husbands...aren't here…"

"Husbands..." She gave him a pointedly questioning look. "Is one of them the father?"

He sighed, the slight dampening of his mood causing her to stop and turn to face him. "No...but they both agreed to raise my child as their own."

"Then they are good men, and would want you to stay well fed...both of you." She smiled, lightly brushing the hair back from his face. "I'm so proud of you, mi patito..."

"They deserve better..."

Spinning around she shook a finger at him. "Don't ever say that...they are lucky to have you and your child in their lives..."

"When the child is...someone else's?"

"Oh, Patito..." She took his hand, pulling him into the house. "We know, what your baby is...it's how we're able to be a part of your life, despite being here."

Quackity blinked, at the decorations adorning the interior: balloons; streamers; flowers; the dining room table had every extension inserted beneath the good tablecloth, and already held dishes with snack food. "Are you...having a party?"

She motioned towards a corner with gifts, both wrapped and not...including a giant teddy bear with a bow around its neck, and several handmade blankets. "We were already going to celebrate the baby...but hearing that you're married will make the party even bigger."

Family was already arriving in steady streams, bearing gifts, food and instruments, when a knock on the door confused all of them to momentary silence, followed by questioning who the hell would knock...

The door opened to reveal a tall, pale woman with long black hair, seemingly held in place by flowers. Intricate embroidery along the edges of her dress caught the light: it swept around her as she almost seemed to float into the room. The festive mood seemed more muted than fully derailed by her presence, which seemed to command a certain amount of awe: Quackity stared from one relative to the other, before approaching slowly, and holding out his hand. "Hi, I'm Quackity...I don't think we've met, how are we related?" That broke the spell, as much of his family broke into nervous laughter: he gave them a confused look. "What?"

"Mijo, this is La Muerte..." His bisabuela handed the other woman a glass of wine.

Even the newcomer was smiling. "I'm your child's other grandmother, Quackity. You can call me Kristin."

This time, the stunned silence remained for several long moments, until one of his uncles - clearly having started his own party a little early - broke it with a whistle. "We knew you managed to land an angel of death, but...La Muerte's own son? Daaamn, you traded up from that pendejo with the gym..."

Quackity shivered, at the mention of Schlatt. "I..."

Kristin smiled, sympathetically. "I know that it's not the best relationship, between you and Wilbur...but Phil and I both want to be in the baby's life, which means in your life, if you're okay with it?"

"I have no idea, what this kid is going to need...and that's if I live through it...what happens if I don't?" His voice was shaking, as he blurted out questions.

His bisabuela quickly herded the rest of the family into the kitchen, to give them privacy.

Kristin took his hand, and led him to the sofa. "Why don't you sit down, for this..."

"I'm going to die, aren't I? That's why I'm here..."

She shook her head. "For lack of a better way of putting it, the baby has already acquired a taste for death...and your great grandmother is thankfully a very good cook. You're drawn here in your sleep, so the baby has the energy it needs as an angel of death...and then you go back, because your body needs the food of the living."

"Does that mean that he won't be able to visit, once the baby is born?" His bisabuela couldn't help interjecting, from the kitchen door.

Kristin sighed, deeply. "We don't know yet, beyond the obvious: if Quackity dies, he will certainly come here...if he lives...we will have to figure something out, because the child will be able to travel in both realms, and definitely shouldn't be allowed to do so, unsupervised."

"What if I do die, though? Will you let me go back to the land of the living, to help raise the baby?"

"You would be a ghost, likely not able to interact physically with anything but the child..."

Quackity twisted his wedding bands around his finger. "Is there no way, at all?"

"That's why we're trying to keep you alive, Quackity...it's not your time, and it's certainly not fair that you could lose your life bringing one of my angels to life." Reaching out, she gently brushed away the tears that were threatening to spill down his face. "You deserve to be a proper parent to this child, in both realms."

Quackity burst into tears, only to find himself in the dual embrace of Death, and his great grandmother.

Wilbur had to fight to not let his distaste show, as the hunters who'd just bought two large stryrofoam coolers and three large bags of ice began placing their kills inside: other prey was disturbing, somehow, but seeing the limp ducks stacked callously in between layers of cold made him positively nauseous. "Have a nice day!" He kept his plastered on fake smile, waving until they drove away from the gas station that was the only building in several kilometers - miles, he reminded himself, this was Utah - then pulled in all but one finger. "...you fucking disgusting bastards..."

He needed air...and then, bad air: grabbing the trash he'd gathered just before the hunters had come in, he stepped out the back door, tossed the bag in the dumpster, and had his lighter out before the clang of the metal lid quit ringing. The flame was halfway to his hand rolled "cigarette" - his boss had made it clear that he didn't give a damn what Wilbur indulged in, as long as he could still do his job - when a loud horn was followed by a louder crunch of metal on metal. "Wot...?" He muttered, then lit the cigarette, taking a long drag as he made his way around the station to look towards the noise.

An hour later, the ambulance was finally pulling in - for the semi driver, who was clearly in shock: the pickup was a mangled, flaming wreck, at the side of the road, the ducks in the coolers now in far better shape than the hunters. The state troopers that he'd been glad to brew a fresh pot of coffee for, twenty minutes after pulling the trucker from his rig, gave him smiles and friendly waves, as they left to try and identify the deceased hunters from the remains of their vehicle.

"At least today wasn't boring..." There was also considerably less mess to deal with, than when the bighorn sheep had somehow wandered into the store, two days ago...it had taken him forty five minutes to herd the damned creature back through the door, and the rest of the night, to clean up the store. He'd been so stiff and sore as he climbed up to the small one room apartment above the store - the use of which was part of his payment for manning this last bastion of civilization - that he'd fallen asleep in a hot bath, drunk and high in the hopes of not feeling the escapade the next day.

Wandering upstairs as soon as he'd filled in his boss - the only other employee of the store - he ran another bath, and took a long sip of his beer, eyeing his dwindling supply of stronger substances: deciding that half carrying the trucker hadn't strained him nearly as much as the damned ram had, he shed his clothes, and slid into the hot water with a sigh.

Sapnap woke as a soft sigh parted Quackity's lips: Karl met his gaze, over their still unconscious husband. "He's waking up, I think..."

"How can you tell?"

"He was smiling, earlier...now, he's not."

"That's...not..." He didn't have time to finish his thought, before Quackity sat bolt upright, slapped a hand over his mouth, and scrambled out of the tent...regardless of his lack of clothing.

Quackity was throwing up, in a newly dug hole: Philza waved his worried husbands back. "It's not pleasant, but he'll be fine. I promise."

"How did you know, to have a hole ready?" Eret asked, holding a handkerchief over her nose.

"Kristin told me, when he fell asleep in Limbo."

"Well, that's handy..."

"Apparently, she got to attend the baby shower his family was throwing him." Philza's tone was slightly amused. "Which is why he's got such a bellyful, to purge, now - she's going to tell his great grandmother to try to feed him at the beginning of his visits, but not at the end." He began gently rubbing Quackity's back, paying special attention to the rigid muscles holding his wings up at a distressed angle.

When Quackity's dry heaves finally stopped, Sapnap helped him to his feet, wrapping a blanket around him, and leading him to the fire where Karl was waiting with water and coffee. "Are you okay?"

Quackity blushed brightly, and glanced up at him through tear-sparkling eyes. "My family is building a nursery..." He grabbed the coffee, downing it without stopping, to get rid of the taste in his mouth.

"And Kristin is trying to find a way for you to use it, despite being alive." Philza reassured him.

"We're going to need a nursery here, too, aren't we?" Karl asked.

"If we can't even stay in the same place more than a few days, how can we have a nursery?" Quackity wrapped the blanket tighter around himself. "How can I even give birth, safely?"

"We're going to find someplace far from anywhere Dream knows, and fortify a village, or woodland mansion." Philza spoke comfortingly. "Then, once you're able to move, we'll find another place..."

"And what? Just keep moving, every few months? What kind of life is that, for a kid?"

"Once the child is a bit older, we can try for a more permanent home...but for now, it's not just Dream, that's the reason we need to keep moving." Philza pointed at the tree nearest the tent that the newlyweds had slept in: it was clearly struggling, despite having been healthy, the night before.

Quackity stared up at Sapnap, then over at Karl, alarmed. "But the two of you..."

"They're fine, Quackity...the baby's not capable of feeding off of humans, yet." Philza handed him a plate of food.

Watching as Fundy left the fire to go begin repacking the camping gear, Eret followed, wanting to give the strange new family their space...and concerned for her own. "Fundy? Are you all right?"

Fundy sighed, his shoulders and tail drooping, slightly. "I'm just...that's...I know it's my half sibling, but..." He gave a strangled chuckle. "I don't know whether to feel lucky that Wilbur was at least sort of there, during my childhood...or jealous..."

"You mean, because this child has three fathers who are clearly going to pay more attention? Or that the baby may never meet Wilbur?"

"Do you know what Philza told me, outside Church Prime, before the wedding?"

Eret shook her head. "It had something to do, with your family's...death powers, I presume?"

Fundy nodded. "Which I may not ever get...and I don't know how to feel, about that: on one hand, it's just one more slap in the face, that I'm somehow not good enough to be a part of my family..."

"Fundy..." Eret's voice was mildly reproachful, though supportive.

"No, it's true - now, I may not even get the one inheritance I had left...but...given that it would be the same powers that are hurting Quackity...maybe I don't want them? But it still feels like the whole universe thinks I'm not good enough..."

"Fundy." Eret took him by the shoulders. "If we're truthful...Wilbur ran away. Leaving us with an even bigger mess, than after L'Manberg. Yes, your sibling is clearly far luckier, when it comes to family: it has three fathers; your grandfather; you, as a brother..."

"You say that like I'm some sort of asset."

"You are...and far more of one, than your absentee father would be." She tilted her head. "But what do you mean, about the family inheritance?"

"Because I jumped...it may count as me reaping myself, before I even had the powers. It's part of why Phil..." He trailed off, staring at his grandfather for a long moment.

"Why Phil...killed Wilbur, himself?" Eret guessed.

Fundy nodded. "He basically...put him in time out, which is why we got Ghostbur, for a while...which was definitely a better thing, than Wilbur being given reaper powers, in his state of mind..."

"Agreed..."

"But..." Fundy sighed, deeply. "I don't know if I feel robbed, by those powers being denied...if they are, because Philza's not sure they will be, since it wasn't my final life...or if I hope that they're gone, so I won't ever hurt anyone..." He lowered his voice even more. "...like the baby is..."

"Philza seems to think that Sapnap and Karl are fine."

"For now...and Quackity isn't." He shook his head. "He hasn't been, since that night - the bloody noses are worse, for a reason..."

"And...you can tell this, somehow?"

Fundy nodded. "He looks off...he smells off...sometimes, it's worse than others..."

Eret gave him a small smile. "Sometimes, the rest of us don't notice it?"

"Yeah...but even when you guys don't, he's still...not right."

"The same way you were the only one to actually see and hear Glatt, when he was trying to warn us that Quackity was in Limbo?"

Fundy blinked. "What?"

"Fundy...your powers may not be fully gone...and that may be a huge asset, when it comes to keeping Quackity at all healthy."

He stared at her, hopefully.

"Caw! Caaaw!"

Watching the nasty white streak slowly ooze its way down the window, Wilbur swore. "Damn it..." Grabbing the spray bottle and a handful of paper towels, he headed out to clean the disgusting mess. The crows that seemed to delight in making more work for him perched on the tin roof over the gas pumps, and made a raucous cacophany that sounded vaguely like laughter: he gave them the finger, over his shoulder, as he cleaned. Tossing the used paper towels in the nearest bin, he paused to light the last half of a joint, to calm his frazzled nerves...but as soon as his hands were busy, the sound and breeze from a single flap of wings was the only warning he got, before he helplessly watched his beanie being carried aloft, by another crow. "You...fucking..." He took a heavy drag from the joint.

He was still fuming three hours later, when he glanced out the thankfully still clean window...and froze, wondering if there had been something extra, at the end of the joint. Tearing down the road, kicking up a cloud of dust, was a caravan of a very familiar silhouette. He just had time to run into the bathroom and splash his face, hoping to either make the mirage dissipate, or to at least look like he wasn't staring at a part of his past, making it back out just in time to see it pull to a screeching halt by the door.

The camper had clearly been repaired, from parts of different vehicles; a blue, white and red flag was being used as a curtain for one of the back windows; and it was currently being exited by an unlikely trio - a slender blonde, seemingly surgically attached to a cell phone; a redhead with platinum streaks in her spiky hair; and a quiet brunette, carefully holding a bundle...that he slowly realized was something moving...inside his hat...

"Ladies..." He managed a smile, as they entered the store.

"No, seriously, Randy, it's a freaking duck!" The blonde headed towards the beverage coolers, with a single distracted smile.

"Putain de canard..." The redhead muttered, shaking her head.

"Is there...anything I can help you with?" His accent, obvious with the extra words, made the redhead freeze in her steps...after a moment, she gave a heavy sigh.

"Is there a...a...tabarnak..."

"A garage, Michelle..." The brunette put a calming hand on the redhead's arm. "...we need a garage for the camper, and hopefully a vet for the duck..."

"Duck?" He raised an eyebrow.

"The duck hit us in the windscreen, on the highway...of course, my cousine is more concerned with the bird, than with us getting to Las Vegas, on time..." Michelle gave a carefully hidden glare to the creature in the hat. "I drive all the way from Canada, down to Denver, so we can have this family time, on the way down...and now, a freaking duck may make us miss everything..."

"It's my wedding..." The brunette retorted, softly, cradling the injured bird.

"How badly injured is it?" He leaned over the counter, to try for a better look.

"I think it's wing is broken."

"So is my windscreen..." Michelle muttered.

"Right." Wilbur straightened, and motioned towards the back of the lot. "We have a small garage, out back - my boss should be there, tinkering on his projects."

Michelle relaxed, with a disbelieving grin. "So not all of our luck is bad...thank you." She glanced towards the still jabbering blonde. "Tammy...I'm moving the camper, you keep her from spending all of our money on the damned duck!"

Seeing the look on the brunette's face, Wilbur gave her a soft smile. "Let me have a look - I know a bit, about birds..." His expression slipped, for a moment. "...and damaged wings..." He forced his expression back to pleasant reassurance.

"The other ducks all flew over the camper...she couldn't, for some reason..." She carefully pulled the duck out of the hat.

"I can see why..." He sighed, staring down at the extremely plump bird. "...she's egg bound."

"What?"

"She should have laid eggs, very recently...but she hasn't been able to, for some reason - I'm honestly surprised she was even flying, at all..." He rummaged behind the counter for a long moment, finally resorting to dumping the cat litter from the spill bucket back into the bag. "I hope this works...I'm not even sure how many hours away the nearest vet is..."

The brunette watched him, mildly perplexed, as he took the bucket to the sink, and stood there for several moments testing the water's temperature, before filling the bucket halfway. "But you know about birds?"

Wilbur chuckled. "My father...keeps crows."

The brunette smiled. "That's got to be a sign - a crow dropped the hat I put the duck in." She shook her head. "It was almost like it did it on purpose..."

"Really..." He managed to not speak through his teeth - barely. "Well, crows are known to be intelligent...perhaps that one happens to like the duck." What the hell...had the damned bird stolen his hat for just this reason, or later decided to offer his hat on the spur of the moment? Picking up the duck, he sighed. "In another strange stroke of luck..." He set the none-too-happy duck in the warm water, then turned his hat inside out, revealing the mess she'd made, inside. "...the impact with your camper may have actually helped, with the egg binding..."

"The eggs broke?" The brunette's eyes widened, almost comically. "But won't that hurt her?"

He shook his head. "It's one of the other treatments I'd have to consider, if the warm water doesn't work." The duck quacked in distress when he reached for her wing, the other flapping enough to send nearby small items flying. He gently calmed her, then went to rummage the shelves. "Once she's no longer egg bound, I'll wrap the wing - it'll likely heal in a couple of weeks."

"I don't think the hotel allows ducks..." Tammy pulled herself away from her phone long enough to point out.

The brunette gave him a half panicked look: he sighed, and nodded. "I'll keep her here until she heals, then release her."

"Thank you so much..." The brunette hugged him impulsively, then drew back, blushing deeply. "Now I won't be worrying about her, when I'm supposed to be celebrating..."

Tammy walked over, holding out her phone. "Your beloved would like a word..."

She blushed, deeply. "He's probably worried that I'll try to bring the duck..." Taking the phone, she walked towards the door. "Good morning, Mr. Beauregard..." Her smile and sugary tone made Wilbur snort.

"What kind of name is 'Randy Beauregard'..." He muttered.

"I know, right?" Tammy's response made him jump. "Sooo pretentious, and if you think that's bad..." She went into a litany of apparently nauseating romantic gestures that occurred often, between the couple, as Wilbur tended the duck.

Thankfully, Michelle stuck her head in. "Where's Toni?"

"Mrs. Antonia soon-to-be Beauregard is reassuring Randy that she's not replacing you with a duck."

Michelle rolled her eyes. "Bad enough that Fenton is stinking up the camper..."

Tammy's eyes widened. "Don't let Toni hear you say that..."

"Who the hell has a ferret for a ringbearer, anyhow?"

"A ferret..." Wilbur raised an eyebrow.

Michelle gave an exasperated sigh. "It's part of why we're driving from Denver to Las Vegas...apparently, no airline will allow them to fly in the cabin, and Toni wouldn't even think about letting Fenton be all alone, in the dark..." She shook her head. "So here we are, in an ancient camper, that stinks of ferret and weed, driving through the desert...but at least your boss is able to fix the windscreen, by some miracle - apparently, he has a friend at a junkyard, who has one that will fit, and he's willing to bring it here."

"That will take a couple of hours..." Wilbur smiled. "...but we'll have you back on the road very shortly after, I'd imagine..."

Michelle grinned. "And you'll have a little friend, to keep you company, once we're gone."

"I thought you didn't want to babysit." Quackity glanced at Eret, who was packing up the last of the helpful supplies they'd managed to pull from the already mostly looted woodland mansion...slowly enough that it was obviously an excuse to keep an eye on him.

"I believe my precise objection involved diapers."

Quackity smirked, but the corners of his lips trembled. "I'll be happy to handle the diaper changes...as long as I get to hold the baby..."

Hearing the tone of sadness and fear in his voice, Eret set aside her busywork, and made her way to his side. "You will, Quackity - after all, you have Death, Herself on your side...how many people can say that?"

"Philza...whose wings are injured...Fundy, who...well..." He looked away, trying to hide the tears pooling in the corners of his good eye. "...Wilbur..."

"Fuck Wilbur." Eret's flat tone didn't hide the anger behind the sentiment.

Quackity went from his breath catching as he tried to hold off sobs, to a mix of those and not entirely sane laughter. "That's what got us into this mess..."

"We'll get out of it..." Eret pulled him into a gentle embrace. "...one way, or the other..." Her eyes blazed, behind her sunglasses, glinting off of the windows: outside, Foolish looked up, met her gaze, and simply nodded, with grim understanding.

Sep3 Bsands Sep 10 LNF