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It wasn’t his Quackity.
That was the first thing Karl took note of.
It wasn’t unusual for him to open his eyes to an unfamiliar world, surrounded by strangers. According to the giant sign, he was in some place called ‘Las Nevadas’ – not one he’d heard of on the SMP. Judging by the sheer brilliance of the nation before him, Karl was willing to put his money on him being in the future, rather than the past this time.
Sometimes the strangers he was greeted by looked familiar. Like that descendant of Ranboo’s from the Lost City of Mizu. Or that one time he’d encountered an ancestor of Sapnap’s that was his spitting image. (There were more. So, so many more faces, familiar and unfamiliar, that all blurred together, making his head spin. There were far too many to remember, despite his best efforts.)
Nonetheless, he wasn’t too shocked to be greeted by a Quackity lookalike.
This one was really something though. He had the same dark eyes and thick eyebrows, creased in thought. Karl had seen the same slender fingers now twiddling with a cigarette instead messing around with a pack of cards. Hell, he even wore a beanie, pulled down over messy hair, albeit black instead of navy. Admittedly, unlike his Quackity, this one wore a white shirt, tucked into dark business pants with suspenders (which was, objectively, a Look), but Karl could’ve been fooled into thinking this was his fiancé.
Except, somehow, everything about him was still wrong.
The way he held himself – the perfect posture and the steady, but slightly too-quick rhythm of his footsteps, like he was used to walking to his own tempo.
His messy hair was a tad too long, spilling out of his beanie and falling across his face. That was usually Karl’s job to fix – he wouldn’t have ever let it get that long. (Except that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d cut Quackity’s hair. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to recall the laughter and protests of his fiancé as he pushed him down onto a stool, brandishing a pair of plastic scissors at him, but it felt just out of reach.)
There wasn’t the same warmth in his tone that Karl remembered, affection bubbling over even as he would tease them relentlessly. Here, there was only a cool professionalism as this Quackity toured them around Las Nevadas. Likewise, his eyes didn’t hold the years of love and memories shared with Karl in them. They didn’t hold much of anything at all, really.
And most prominently – the scar.
Beginning just above fake Quackity’s left eyebrow and trailing down his face to just below his mouth. A violent, malevolent gash, likely reminiscent of a past death. It was a stark contrast to Karl’s Quackity. It added to the darker quality of this Quackity, who seemed colder and more dangerous than his fiancé. (He didn’t try to make sense of the flashes of Quackity’s face in his mind, sometimes with a scar, sometimes not, eyes afraid and hurting.)
“You still with me?” the fake Quackity queried, pausing to look back at him.
(The name – Karl hadn’t asked him for a name. Or had he? Not-Quackity had probably already introduced himself, right? There were too many names to keep track of.)
Karl nodded, stuffing his hands in his jumper and quickly catching up. At that moment, Not-Quackity called out a greeting to some sort of slime hybrid coming out of one of the buildings, who waved back excitedly. Karl quietly concluded that he’d been correct in his initial diagnosis of future, over past.
“It’s a beautiful place you’ve got here,” Karl offered quietly as they passed through a flowery archway.
Karl did his best to take in every detail – there’d been a reason, after all, that he’d been brought here. There always was. His head was pounding in the way it always did after he’d spent a little too much time in the In Between. But his brain felt full. Las Nevadas was just one place on a very long list.
Not-Quackity’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Thanks.”
Karl winced at the terse, unfriendly response. He- he wasn’t doing this right. He was slipping. He was supposed to be getting Not-Quackity to talk about Las Nevadas. There was a reason he’d been sent here and he was supposed to find it. But he couldn’t think. His mind was slow and foggy and couldn’t organise the right questions he needed to be asking.
C’mon. Focus.
“Are there many of you in Las Nevadas?” Karl asked hesitantly.
Not-Quackity laughed, the sound sharp and cynical. “No.”
“Oh?”
“Sometimes things don’t go to plan, Karl,” Not-Quackity snapped, and everything about the way he said his name was harsh and wrong and a sharp contrast to his Quackity’s affectionate Carlos, but it was still Quackity’s voice and Karl flinched violently.
Not-Quackity didn’t see, shaking his head and looking off into the distance, the anger dissipating just like that. “I don’t know what you want from me,” he said bitterly.
Before Karl could even try and comprehend what Not-Quackity could mean, the two of them were waylaid by a teenager in a purple jumper, with a permanent scowl on his face that only seemed to deepen when he caught sight of Karl. (Did he know the boy? That face – that face looked familiar.)
“Everything alright here?” he asked, and though the question was directed at Not-Quackity, he stared pointedly at Karl.
“I’ve got everything handled,” Not-Quackity reassured him and something about his demeanour seemed to change as he clapped the teenager on the shoulder.
Karl’s eyes fell onto the firm grip Not-Quackity had on Purpled’s shoulder – and maybe that was something of note. It was almost… possessive. Something wasn’t right about the dynamic between Not-Quackity and the kid, that was for sure.
“I’ll have this wrapped up soon,” Not-Quackity promised. “Why don’t you go help Slime?”
The teenager nodded, sending one last glare Karl’s way. Not-Quackity smiled reassuringly at the kid and it hurt because it was just a shade off being genuine – because Karl knew the real smile that would dance across those lips and that wasn’t it. It wasn’t his Quackity.
The teenager headed off and Not-Quackity refocused briefly on Karl before continuing onward. Karl trailed after him.
I’ll have this wrapped up soon, Not-Quackity had said.
That was probably a threat.
Karl was no stranger to how these Tales ended. There was only one way out, and apparently this time it would be from this poor imitation of his fiancé.
He had to squeeze more information out of Not-Quackity before that happened. Before the Tale ended. Or this would all be for nothing. He needed to.
But-
Karl was tired. His head hurt. Lately he’d been losing things – names, faces. He needed to rest. More than anything, he wanted to go home to his fiancés. They’d notice how tired he was, and they’d smother him with affection and cuddles and they could all fall asleep together. He wanted Sapnap. And he wanted the real Quackity, not this impersonator.
It didn’t matter what he wanted, he knew that.
But Karl was selfish.
Not-Quackity ended the tour at the top of the Space Needle. The second he turned around, Karl threw himself off the top of it.
Listen. Karl wasn’t suicidal. He wasn’t.
It was just – he’d been so sure that this was a Tale. This Quackity was… different. He had cold eyes and an even colder smile, and was the complete opposite of the warm and laughing fiancé Karl knew. Where his Quackity would’ve greeted him with a hug, this Quackity offered nothing but aloof detachment. Hell, Karl had never even heard of Las Nevadas.
Even so, he hadn’t been able to stand the thought of someone who looked so similar to his Quackity eventually killing him. So, he’d decided to speed up the process a little, and the second ‘Quackity’ turned his back, he tried to throw himself off the top of the Needle.
(He was just going home – to his fiancés.)
He hadn’t expected to be dragged back over the railing and far away from the edge with an endless litany of curses. And it was his Quackity, wide-eyed and terrified, hands desperately clutching at his jumper. “Karl, what the fuck?!”
“Oh,” Karl breathed. A quiet realisation. “Hey Big Q.”
“I’m calling Sapnap.”
“Okay.”
“I’m telling him about…”
“Okay.”
Karl smiled at him reassuringly from where he was curled up on the couch. It did nothing to ease his mind. He hesitated a moment longer.
Quackity had forgotten what it was like, to be in Karl’s presence. The gravitational pull toward him – a need to be close, to wrap him up in affection and adoration like he knew Karl craved. But unfamiliar was the raw hurt that came with his former fiancé’s presence. He wasn’t Karl’s anymore. They didn’t want him. They’d made that much clear.
(Quackity could barely stand to look at Karl. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from him.)
He hadn’t known how to act when Karl had turned up at Las Nevadas. He hadn’t known what to say. And when he saw Karl tilting over the railing of the Space Needle, he’d hardly known how to breathe.
“Okay.” Quackity exhaled sharply before nodding. “Okay. You – just don’t go anywhere, alright?”
Karl nodded his assent – he looked so small, bundled up in his hoodie, hands cradling a warm mug – and Quackity stepped just outside, the door softly closing behind him with a click. He didn’t go any further. Already, his every instinct was screaming at him for leaving Karl alone. Not after what Karl had just tried to do.
Quackity didn’t let himself think as he pulled out his communicator. He didn’t let himself hesitate or dwell on the fact that it had been months since he’d last spoken to Sapnap – Karl was more important.
He hit call. After two rings, Sapnap picked up.
“Quackity?”
He exhaled shakily. That voice – he hadn’t heard Sapnap’s voice in months. It was the same voice that had steadied him through panic attacks and nightmares, and teased him over breakfast and while playing games. And just like that, Quackity could feel all his defences crumbling.
“I need you.” The response fell from his lips, unplanned and desperate. He sucked in a breath, wincing at his own words before forcing himself to focus. “Karl needs you,” he corrected himself, less franticly.
Karl. Sapnap’s fiancé. His only fiancé, and top priority.
“What’s going on? Is everything alright?”
Focus.
“He- he tried to kill himself. How soon can you be at Las Nevadas?”
“What?” Sapnap whispered, the sound broken and disbelieving. “Quackity-”
“Sapnap!” Quackity cut in, letting him take in the seriousness in his tone. “When can you get here?”
There was a pause. Quackity pulled hard at the strands of hair escaping his beanie.
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
“Okay,” Quackity breathed out. And he hung up.
Karl was exactly where he’d left him, sipping at his hot chocolate peacefully. When Quackity entered, he looked up at him with a warm smile, lowering the mug to cradle in his lap.
“Is Sapnap coming?”
Quackity nodded wordlessly and Karl brightened.
“Cool! I’ve been wondering where he was.”
Quackity frowned at that. He hadn’t really had much time to speculate when Karl had turned up at the borders of Las Nevadas, alone. But had Sapnap been away from Karl for a while? Had he left him all by himself?
(Funnily enough, he’d thought that particular treatment was reserved just for him.)
Gingerly, he sat down on the couch opposite Karl. They were in his room at Las Nevadas’ unfinished hotel. He’d been staying here for months, but it had never started feeling like home.
Karl pouted at him. “Why are you sitting all the way over there?” He patted the space beside him. “Come here.”
Quackity winced. “I don’t think that’d be a good idea, Karl,” he said quietly.
Karl’s smile faltered. Quackity’s heart ached.
“Oh. Is everything alright?”
Quackity laughed lowly, shaking his head. He didn’t bother with a response.
Something was building in his chest. Different from the misery and longing and loneliness and heartache that had been drowning him the second his eyes had landed on Karl. It was both familiar, and not.
He was angry at Karl. He was pissed off and he was bitter. Because what right did Karl have to come here, after he and Sapnap had abandoned him, and wave the broken pieces of their relationship in his face? What right did he have to come here and act like nothing had changed between them – like it hadn’t been months since they’d last come face to face?
And what precisely gave him the right to ask if Quackity was alright? He’d lost the privilege to care the second he’d run off with Sapnap and George to start a new nation without him.
So Quackity was angry. He was bitter. And it didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter.
Because Karl had just tried to kill himself. And Quackity had no idea if he was to blame.
Karl cleared his throat. His tone remained light as he asked, “What happened to your eye, Big Q?”
Quackity’s blood went cold. Unconsciously, he lifted a hand to trace the scar over his eye.
I have a pickaxe and I’ll put it through your teeth!
A part of him wanted to lash out. To tear into Karl for being so cruel, so heartless as to bring up his second death.
But a larger part of him hesitated. Because that wasn’t his Karl. Karl wasn’t cruel or heartless or even mean at the worst of times. Even if he’d abandoned Quackity to start his own nation without him. Karl wasn’t (would never be) Schlatt, who knew how to pick at his worst insecurities. He wasn’t Wilbur, who always knew just the right angle to push the knife in.
Quackity let the echo of Technoblade’s voice, the memory of the pickaxe slicing across his face, fade away. He tilted his head, eyes softening ever so slightly. “Karl. Are you alright?”
Karl hadn’t cried once since he’d dragged him back over that railing. He hadn’t begged or shouted or cursed at him. Instead, he’d maintained the same earnest, cheerful appearance that he was known for. Maybe it would’ve reassured him, because it was so familiar, this attitude. But it didn’t. Because he could see the way Karl was fraying at the edges.
It was the way he took that extra few seconds whenever Quackity spoke, to comprehend his words. The smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The entire time he’d been taking Karl around Las Nevadas – the carefully measured questions, the way he couldn’t meet his eyes, the way he held himself like he was waiting for an attack.
The way he’d jumped off a fucking building.
And now. The genuine question about his scar, so unintentionally callous.
Sure, Quackity hadn’t seen the rapid collapse of their relationship coming until it’d been too late. With how quickly things had fallen apart, for all he knew, Sapnap and Karl had been planning the split for a long, long time. But he didn’t think things had been so bad at the time of his second death. He’d definitely seen and spoken to Karl since.
Are you alright?
And Karl’s too-bright, too-calm front crumbled. Before Quackity could even process, Karl had launched himself off the couch and he had a lapful of his crying, no sobbing ex-fiancé. He hesitated for only a moment before giving in, wrapping his arms around Karl tightly, offering the comfort he so desperately needed. Fuck whether it was a good idea or not.
And that was how they stayed, Karl’s face buried in his chest and Quackity rubbing circles into his back, until Sapnap arrived.
The knock on the door was the only warning they got before Sapnap burst in, despite the protests of Purpled. Immediately, Quackity shoved himself away from Karl. “It’s not what it-”
Sapnap took two long strides before he was pulling a slightly startled Karl into a hug. Quackity’s excuses died on his lips, watching the way Karl melted into Sapnap, secure in his strong embrace.
It’d always been like that. Karl and Sapnap had slotted perfectly together, like two puzzle pieces. And Quackity was the broken, damaged piece, that could never quite fit right – would never quite fit right after Schlatt had beaten and twisted him all out of shape.
Sapnap was whispering into Karl’s ear, an endless babble of words. I love you, I love you so fucking much, tell me you know that, please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me, you can’t leave me too, I love you.
Quackity’s heart squeezed. He looked away.
“I’m okay,” Karl was reassuring him, even as tears still trickled down his face. He reached up to cup Sapnap’s face with a warm smile. “I’m okay, Sapnap, I promise. I’m here. I’m here and I’m not leaving.”
Silently, Quackity got up, grabbing the spare mug he’d unconsciously gotten out when making himself and Karl hot chocolate, busying himself with making Sapnap the same drink, trying to ignore Sapnap and Karl in his living room.
He could only hide out in the kitchen for so long and soon returned to the living room, avoiding eye contact carefully as he placed the mug in front of Sapnap on the coffee table. The couple had fallen silent, but Sapnap was gripping Karl’s hand like he was afraid he’d disappear if he let go.
Uncomfortably, he seated himself opposite them. His eyes drifted up from their interlocked hands to meet Sapnap’s. “Hey,” he said weakly.
“Hey Quackity,” Sapnap returned cautiously.
Quackity shifted. “Should I be here for this conversation?”
He – he wasn’t sure it was his right anymore. This was something that should be discussed between the two soon-to-be-weds.
“Yes.” Sapnap’s tone offered no room for deliberation.
“What conversation?” Karl asked, a somewhat artificial brightness to his voice.
Quackity grimaced. “Karl,” he said gently. “You tried to jump off the Space Needle. Have you been feeling like this long-?”
“That was a misunderstanding,” Karl cut in hastily.
Sapnap looked on the verge of tears. “Karl-”
“It was!” Karl insisted.
Sapnap shook his head, turning to Quackity. “Could you just… explain what happened?”
Quackity nodded. “One of my guys – my employees” – he wasn’t sure why he felt the need to clarify – “spotted Karl on the edge of Las Nevadas and let me know.”
He hesitated. “Karl was acting a little…”
Confused, lost, exhausted, pained.
“…Weird,” he settled on. “But he asked for a tour of the city, so I gave one to him.”
Karl had been acting so strange. Gone was the bubbly boy – the very embodiment of sunshine – that he knew. The questions he asked were carefully constructed, like he was reading off a script, but mostly, he’d just seemed dazed.
“To me, he seemed pretty out of it,” Quackity admitted. “I think a lot of what I was saying wasn’t actually registering with him.” He swallowed thickly. “The tour ended at the top of the Space Needle and…”
“And?” Sapnap prompted, not unkindly.
When Quackity next spoke, his voice had dropped an octave. “I took my eyes off him for one second, and he was about to throw himself off the top. I pulled him back over.”
“It wasn’t what it looked like,” Karl protested weakly. “I wasn’t- I wouldn’t-”
But he was. He had.
If Quackity had even been seconds later, taken a moment more to process what was happening, Karl would be dead right now. He’d been inches away from death.
“Then what was it?” Sapnap asked, unusually gently.
Karl was silent for a long moment, staring down at his lap. Quackity could make out the tears glimmering in his lowered eyes. When he finally did answer, he was so quiet Quackity had to strain his ears to hear it.
“I didn’t think it was real,” Karl whispered shakily. “I thought I was dreaming. And I wanted to wake up.”
“Do you often have dreams about dying?” Quackity questioned quietly.
There was another long pause. Karl had never seemed smaller. “All the time.”
Sapnap inhaled sharply. “Karl-”
“I just wanted to wake up,” Karl murmured pleadingly. “I- I’ve been so tired recently, and I just wanted to go home.”
It seemed like Sapnap couldn’t take it anymore, once again wrapping Karl up in a fierce hug, burying his face in Karl’s hoodie. It was taking every ounce of Quackity’s willpower to not do the same.
Over Sapnap’s shoulder, Karl offered him a shaky smile. “I wouldn’t ever do something like that,” he vowed. “If I ever felt like that… I would tell you. I promise.”
And despite the fact that his hands hadn’t stopped trembling from the moment he’d dragged Karl back over the edge, Quackity believed him.
There was more to the story, he was certain. And Karl still definitely needed some serious help. But he hadn’t intended to end his life.
It was enough reassurance for Sapnap too, seemingly, as after a few minutes, he detached himself from Karl, hastily wiping his eyes and reaching for the mug on the coffee table.
Sapnap cleared his throat. “Is this hot chocolate?” he asked gruffly.
Karl laughed wetly, wiping away his own tears. “Yeah. Big Q’s been taking good care of me. What took you so long anyway? We missed you.”
Quackity flinched at the casual use of the word we. The effortless way Karl said it, like they were an inseparable pair.
“Were you on a day trip or something?” Karl continued obviously. “You’re never usually that far.”
Sapnap winced at that, but confusion was evident in his expression. “I was in Kinoko Kingdom.”
Karl tilted his head. “Kinoko Kingdom? What’s that?”
Quackity went still. Slowly, he looked up at Karl. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong here.
“Kinoko Kingdom is our nation,” Sapnap stated, alarm and concern obvious in his voice. “Me, you and George. Don’t you remember?”
Karl’s smile was brittle. “No, you moron. El Rapids is our nation.”
Sapnap’s eyes were wide. “Karl, we haven’t lived in El Rapids for months now. Did you hit your head or something? Do you really not remember? Karl-”
“No.” Karl shook his head tightly. “You said me, you and George. You’re wrong. You never said Quackity. What about Quackity?”
Quackity pursed his lips, looking away bitterly despite the unease running through his veins. Yes. What about Quackity?
It seemed their mutual silence was enough of an answer for Karl.
“No!” Karl insisted. “Quackity wouldn’t leave us! He wouldn’t!” His head swivelled to Quackity, desperation in his voice. “You wouldn’t, right?”
I wouldn’t, he thought. “I didn’t,” is what he said, his voice like ice.
Sapnap scoffed, and the day had been such a rollercoaster of emotions, deeply rattling him to the core and shaking every bit of resolve that he’d struggled to build over the past few months, that the mere sound was enough to set Quackity off.
“What?” he snapped. “Something you’d like to add, Sapnap?”
Sapnap glared, fire in his eyes. “Yes, actually. He’s clearly fucking confused, and you’re fucking lying to him?” He addressed Karl. “Kinoko Kingdom was built by you, me and George, because Quackity was off starting his own fucking country. Welcome to Las Nevadas, the nation Quackity chose over us.”
Quackity was seeing red. “I’m not fucking lying, you asshole! You all left me to build your shitty country and never even told me about it! I had to find out from George when I was telling him about Las Nevadas that Kinoko Kingdom even existed.”
He was fuming. How dare Sapnap even insinuate he’d been the one to leave them? Back then, he would’ve done anything for them. He would’ve dropped Las Nevadas without a second thought if they’d asked. He would’ve ripped his own heart out, if he thought it’d make them happy. (They’d been his everything.)
And all he’d earned was some shitty half-assed explanation from George, weeks after they’d all moved. Apparently, he hadn’t meant as much to them as they had to him.
“We invited you to join Kinoko Kingdom!” Sapnap snapped.
“No, you didn’t!” Quackity retorted. “Because if you had, I would’ve fucking done it!”
That caught Sapnap off-guard. He took a moment to inhale and exhale slowly, and when he next spoke, less of the rage was simmering in his voice. “We did. Karl went to go ask you to join us. And you said no.”
“No,” Quackity said stiffly. “He didn’t.”
And beneath the haze of anger, something clicked silently into place. At the same time, both Quackity and Sapnap turned to look at Karl, who had a hand over his mouth, eyes filled with tears. Karl, who apparently couldn’t remember the past few months at all. Karl, who could no longer distinguish between dream and reality.
“Oh God,” Karl whispered. “This is all my fault, isn’t it?”
There was a long silence after Karl’s words. Quackity realised he should fill it.
“No,” he answered hollowly. “It’s not your fault, Karl.”
“You didn’t mean to,” Sapnap agreed, sounding just as dazed with the shock as Quackity was.
The Quackity of a few months ago would’ve wept with joy at the revelation, he was almost certain. The confirmation that his fiancés hadn’t meant to leave him behind. That they had loved him back just as much. That it’d been a mistake.
Because that was all he’d wanted to hear back then. Every day, he’d prayed that Karl or Sapnap would come around and explain that the whole thing had been one big misunderstanding. That they loved him and wanted to be with him forever, like they’d promised so long ago.
The Quackity of today could only think about how unfair it was. What a cruel, twisted joke Fate had played on them. A sick, perverted trick, and an irreversible one at that.
How was it that one miscommunication had shaped so much of who he was today?
Logically, while Karl’s current state was evidence that it hadn’t been all sunshine and rainbows, when they’d split, Karl and Sapnap had at least had each other. And Quackity had had himself.
After Wilbur, after Schlatt, Karl and Sapnap had been his hope. They’d been his proof that not all in the world was dark and bleak. They’d shown him, time and time again, that there was happiness to be found and laughter to be shared in the worst of times.
Losing them had been the final nudge Quackity had needed. The seed that Wilbur had planted and Schlatt had nurtured, had at last blossomed under his latest betrayal.
He’d given himself over to his dark side that Wilbur had liked to talk about. He stopped looking for the good in the world and hoping for a better tomorrow, and dedicated himself to making that better tomorrow, even if it was at the expense of others. Fate was a cruel mistress that had shunned him at every turn, so he’d made his own fate. He’d carved his own place out in a world that was determined to see him ruined, and maybe he’d carved pieces of himself out too in order to do it, but he didn’t care.
Las Nevadas was his world now. It was his mission, his passion, his dream and his drive. When he fell asleep, it was to images of a glittering empire, with buildings stretching to reach the skyline and a majestic casino, rolling in cash.
Quackity had remade himself from the wreckage of this relationship. What was he without it?
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Karl was crying again while Sapnap attempted to comfort him.
“I don’t blame you, Karl,” Quackity reiterated, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. “You didn’t mean to. It’s not your fault.”
“I ruined everything,” Karl sobbed. “Quackity, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
A strange sense of calm was filling him. “Karl, listen to me. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t help it. And I don’t blame you at all.” He let Karl meet his eyes. Let him see the sincerity in them as his sobs slowed.
“It’s okay,” Quackity soothed distantly. “It’s not your fault at all, Karl.”
He was calm. It would be okay.
Because overall, this changed very little.
“I just-” Karl hiccupped. “I need a moment, please.”
“Of course.”
Instead, he met Sapnap’s eyes. And he saw the same weary conclusion there. Gone was the previous anger and bitterness, built up over several months, as Sapnap smiled at him, worn but understanding.
“I guess we both know what happens now,” Quackity said.
And it’d been nice. He did feel the slightest bit lighter, having closed this chapter of his life.
Sapnap nodded. “Too much shit has happened for us to just go back to normal.”
Quackity grinned wryly. “Way too much shit.”
“Maybe it’ll be better like this,” Sapnap offered. “You can focus on Las Nevadas and we can focus on Kinoko Kingdom.”
Quackity scoffed without any real edge to it. “Oh, like Kinoko Kingdom could even compare to Las Nevadas.”
Sapnap laughed.
They couldn’t go back. They couldn’t reverse the damage that had already been done. Sure, it’d been a miscommunication that had set them on this path, but that hadn’t made its effects any less devastating. Even if part of him still ached for the warmth of Karl and Sapnap’s arms, it didn’t change what had happened. Things could never go back to normal. The best they could do now was damage control.
“You call if you ever need anything,” Quackity stated seriously. “You or Karl.”
Sapnap nodded. “Same goes for you.”
“Sorry, what?”
Karl had dried his eyes, but they were still red and puffy. He was looking between them with confusion.
“We’re gonna head back to Kinoko Kingdom,” Sapnap explained patiently. “Quackity’s gonna stay here. We’ll see if we can get you some help-”
“No,” Karl interrupted, looking disbelieving. “We’re not fucking leaving Quackity behind again.”
Sapnap looked to him for help, but Karl was getting fired up.
“It’s okay,” Quackity tried to assure him. “After the past few months, the smartest thing-”
“Who cares about what the smartest thing to do this?” Karl demanded. “Big Q, we messed up with you once, I’m not doing it again.”
“Karl,” Quackity started gently. “It’s-”
“I love you,” Karl cut in, and his heart lurched. “And I love Sapnap. And I want to make this work. Don’t you?”
It felt like Karl had taken a hammer to the broken pieces of his heart. “Karl, I haven’t talked to either of you in months. I’m a different person now. I don’t think it would work.”
He’d done some terrible, terrible things in the name of power. He wasn’t the same scared boy who’d needed Sapnap’s protection and Karl’s comfort after waking from nightmares of Manberg. He’d lied and manipulated and hurt people. He wasn’t sure he still deserved Karl’s love. Or anyone at all’s.
“But do you want it to work?” Karl pressed.
Quackity opened his mouth, ready with a gentle rebuttal. And he paused.
He tried to picture it – Sapnap and Karl, and Las Nevadas, coexisting. And he couldn’t. They felt like two entirely separate worlds. Sapnap talking with Guy, or Karl chatting away with Foolish. The idea felt impossible.
Except, once upon a time, Las Nevadas had been intended as a wedding gift. He’d meant to marry them here, at the same spot that Karl, in all his strangeness and confusion, had still stopped to admire on their tour. He’d planned to invite George and Tubbo and Bad, and probably Ranboo and Tommy, and maybe even Fundy for the ceremony.
Back then, he’d been able to picture Sapnap and Karl as part of Las Nevadas. So, why not anymore? Was it really so impossible now?
Do you want it to work? Karl had asked.
And he couldn’t see it working. He couldn’t envision it. But that wasn’t what Karl had asked.
He thought of Sapnap, wild and daring. The first to pick a fight, but also the first to jump to his defence. The mischievous grin that meant they should all be preparing for trouble.
He thought of Karl, bright and full of laughter. The way he always knew when to poke fun and when to bury him in affection. Him trying to steal Quackity’s beanie over breakfast, oblivious to Sapnap using the opportunity to steal food from his plate.
Do you want it to work?
And all these months, there was really only one answer.
More than anything in the world.
Quackity nodded. A single, tight jerk of the head.
“Sapnap?” Karl pushed. “What about you?”
Quackity’s breath caught in his throat as Sapnap locked eyes with him. Because this was it. This was usually the moment where Fate liked to send him sprawling, kicking him and spitting on him for good measure. Nothing would ever go his way, if he didn’t make it.
But against all odds, Sapnap nodded. “Yes,” he said hoarsely. “Always.”
And before he even process it, Sapnap was pushing himself off the couch and crossing the small gap between them to envelope Quackity in a hug, Karl joining them only moments later.
“I’m not abandoning Las Nevadas,” Quackity said into Sapnap’s chest.
“We won’t make you,” Karl promised. “But don’t be surprised when we spend every other day here.”
“We’ll build a fucking express highway between here and Kinoko Kingdom or something,” Sapnap vowed.
“And if that doesn’t work?”
Because it wouldn’t work. It couldn’t work. Too much had happened.
“Then me and Karl will move to Las Nevadas and hang out with you until you’re sick of us and send us back.”
I don’t think I could ever get sick of you, Quackity thought, feeling close to tears.
“Karl’s hiding something,” Quackity pointed out, still feeling the need to argue. “I’ve got a country to run. You’ve changed too.”
He felt Karl freeze at his back. Blindly, he reached for his hand, and was relieved when Karl’s fingers slid between his own. He squeezed.
“We’ll deal with it,” Sapnap promised. When Quackity tried to weakly protest, he hushed him. “We’ll deal with whatever comes. Together. I’m willing to try if you are. Are you?”
“Yes,” Quackity whispered. “Always.”
There were a million reasons why it shouldn’t work. A million different ways it could go wrong, in just a matter of days. They were a fragile tower of cards, and all it would take was the slightest breeze to knock them down. And maybe it was Fate’s way of telling them that it just wasn’t meant to be. They weren’t meant to be.
But, Quackity thought, wrapped securely in Sapnap and Karl’s arms, he’d never been one to blindly put his faith in Fate.
They were willing to try. And that was a start.