Chapter Text

Sitting at the staircase of the house of your arch-nemesis, shivering from both the cold and pain wasn’t something someone with pride would willingly do. Yet here Quackity is, in all his glory.

In his defence, his pain-addled brain couldn’t come up with any better solutions to his current situation. His small, golden, puffy wings pressing painfully underneath the thin jersey that barely kept away the biting cold. The one person who could help him had decided to live in the tundra with the man who killed him with zero hesitation.

But on top of all of that, they weren’t even home. Quackity was shit out of luck.

—

Technoblade smiled to himself as the bright, cheery laughter of Phil filled the air around the two as they walked home. The noise filled Techno with a sense of pride, a small smile creeping across his face.

Gathering materials was usually a tedious task, but with Phil at his side, time managed to pass just a tiny bit quicker.

“Uh, Techno..? Do you see that?” Phil looked concerned as they got closer, spotting the cottage but with a new addition to the exterior. From so far away, it was hard to tell what it was, maybe who it was.

“Dear lord, can’t they just let a man retire,” Techno mumbled, already unsheathing his netherite sword. Despite the new tenseness that grew, Philza let out another signature chuckle as they advanced. Techno maybe would have laughed along if it weren’t for the fact that it finally clicked who had situated themselves on their staircase.

Curled up to the side, Quackity lay with his eyes squeezed shut. He looked as much a threat as a kicked puppy, so the pair walked up calmly to the half unconscious man.

“They never give up, do they?” Phil sighed. The whole “butcher army” fiasco wasn’t that far back ago, and Philza had been made well aware of what happened. If Quackity didn’t learn the first time, the realisation that he had no power would come fast when Techno took his last life.

Techno looked almost bored as he approached the smaller man, lifting him by the collar and startling him awake with a quiet whimper.

“Are ‘ya here to kidnap me again or are you just napping in the snow?” The hybrid drawled out in his signature monotone. To his surprise, Quackity didn’t berate him with all cuss words known to man in his defence. Instead, he just gave Techno a glazed-over look which made the man almost concerned. How long had he been out in the snow in that thin jumper?

“I heard Mr. Minecraft lives here,” Quackity slurred out in an attempt at humour, which, quite frankly fell flat. Techno turned his head and threw Philza a confused look over his shoulder, getting an equally as perplexed one back.

“Look, Quackity, you already tried the whole kidnapping thing, which, may I remind you, failed horribly. I doubt you could beat Philza alone or use him as leverage.” Despite the tense situation, Phil smiled from behind Techno. He was right.

Quackity spluttered for a second, looking down at the snowy stairs before steeling himself and looking at the tallest again.

“I need help.”

Techno blanched. Then he laughed a little bit. What?

Phil seemed just as confused but keeping his distance.

“You literally tried to kill me?”

“And you actually killed me, we’re even.”

Before Techno could protest again, Quackity had brought his cold hands to the hand Techno had on his shirt, breathing in before starting again.

“Just- please. Last time you killed me with a pick when I was in full netherite, I won’t be a threat- I- I don’t even have shit on me. I don’t know what to do, I- Phil could-“ Quackity spoke quickly but lowly all in one breath, eyes squeezed shut again as if it was hard for him to admit.

Finally, Phil stepped closer to the shaking man on the stairs, a small look of concern on his face. Quackity is not one to come crawling back to people, especially not someone like Techno who he hated. The sheer change in attitude put Phil on edge. It seemed Techno was being more stubborn, however.

“Look, mate, we can go inside so you don’t die before we can kill you,” Phil half joked, earning an eye-roll from Techno. Of course the blond would invite his friends arch nemesis in.

Techno grunted but let go of Quackity, sending him scrambling on the stairs. “Fine, but do one thing wrong and you’re gone.” Quackity nodded slowly and got up, walking towards the house entrance.

—

Quackity shivered when the heat from inside hit him. He instantly relaxed a tiny bit, not having the energy to keep his guard up. Hopefully the two hosts wouldn’t kill their guest.

The owners of the house took the lead and walked into the dining room, sitting around a humble dinner table, leaving Quackity to awkwardly stand alone in front of them. What was this, an interrogation?

When no one spoke, he decided to take initiative.

“I- okay. I n-need Philza’s help. You- I…” Quackity trailed off. The bad thing about finally getting warmed up again was the pain seeping back with the sense of touch. But he grit his teeth.

Philza seemed to notice his discomfort. “You good, mate? Why do you need me out of all people, can’t someone in L’Manburg help you?” At the mention of the nation, the shortest glared a little extra at the two, both of them seeming unbothered.

“You’re the only one who- you know w- about wings, right?”

The silence that weighed in the room crushed Quackity little by little as he started shifting around in place, trying his best to keep his composure.

“…Yes?” It was true, but Phil had no idea what warranted the question. He was sure he was the only bird hybrid on the server, so suddenly getting asked was suspicious. Techno had seemed to pick up on the same thing, looking more on edge and subconsciously leaning towards the eldest.

Without more of a word, Quackity reached his hands up as a sign of peace, and he then slowly went to unzip his jumper.

When it was finally shed, a pair of small, puffy gold wings spread. The wings tips only reached to Quackity’s hips when folded, nothing like the large grey ones Phil sported proudly on his back. On top of that, the fluffy feathers were tussled and a mess, clumped together almost painfully, covered with grime and concerningly enough, blood. The left wing was bent at an uncomfortable angle on top of that, making it a real sore sight to see.

A crushing silence filled the room once again, making Quackity self-consciously curl in on himself, wings folding close to his body. All Philza and Techno could do was sit and stare at the image before them, so many unanswered questions hanging in the air. Techno was the first one to break the silence.

“Wow. You look like shit.”

Chapter Text

Soon after that, Phil finally sprang into action, walking close to Quackity and guiding him down to sit on the floor. The black-haired boy complied without complaint, finally succumbing to the pain that drove him here. A small mumble of “fuck you, pig bitch,” or something of the likes could be heard directed at Techno.

“Quackity, how the hell did this happen? Do you not groom? Is this broken? Jesus fuck, mate.” Phil tentatively took one of the small, crumpled wings in his hands, earning a flinch from the man hybrid. “This is- have you plucked your feathers?” Phil couldn’t help the concern that grew evident in his voice.

Quackity began to mumble for a bit, deciding to look at the floor. “I- I didn’ mean to, I was tryin’ to groom for once…” For once, Quackity looked really small, curled in on himself with his face scrunched up. He felt small, too.

“Listen, you have to tell me what the fuck happened here, but I think it’s best if we fix you up before that, okay?” The black haired man agreed with a feverish nod to Phil’s words with no hesitation.

“Okay, good. Looking past the... neglect," Phil stumbled on his words, not finding the best words to describe the shit-show that was Quackity's wings at the moment. "I think your wing's broken and healed wrong, so we need to reset that,” he continued, partly directed at Quackity and partly to Technoblade as a hint to start getting the medical supplies. “Can you stand for me?”

Quackity snarled as best as he could. He did ask for help, but he never signed up to be patronized by his enemies. “Don’t fuckin’ baby me, asshole,” came out quieter than he’d liked. Of course he could stand! Or he thought. He could, right? It didn’t even hurt that bad. So he grit his teeth and stood up, swaying only a little bit. And if he held on to Philza, no one had to know.

The quaint little table that he had noticed when he first entered the cottage was now being prepped with a white cloth covering it. Technoblade seemed hard at work, pulling out potions and medical supplies while mumbling something under his breath. Quackity didn’t care. Or so he told himself. Knowing that two men that could easily kill him were going to intentionally snap his wing only to put it back was kind of horrifying, but the creeping pain that lingered didn’t let him reflect on that for too long.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Phil ushered him on top of the table. “Stay on your stomach for now, alright? See, that’s good.” As Phil spoke in a calm, soothing voice, he gently ran his hands down the younger boy’s wings who only flinched a tiny bit. “It’s going to hurt like hell, bud, but it already does I’m pretty sure.”

The only response he got was a hazed nod.

Over Quackity, Techno and Phil shared a glance again. Quackity didn’t see, and he couldn’t care. He just wanted help. No one knew about his wings, and he would desperately keep it that way. But after months and months of hiding them, tying them close to his torso in fear.

When Schlatt had found out about them, Quackity had been relieved. Maybe he could just keep them out for once, now that somebody knew? But Schlatt had reassured his worst fears.

—

“What the fuck are those things?” Schlatt spat out at Quackity. Shit. No one was supposed to see, he thought he was safe in his own room in the white house, but obviously not.

“Uh- they’re- wings..? You’re a hybrid too, you should know.” Quackity let out a nervous chuckle in hopes of diffusing the situation.

Schlatt levelled Quackity with a dead stare. A fear that Quackity told himself was irrational grew in his chest. The president wouldn’t hurt him. But as he got closer and closer, the thought seemed less and less illogical.

Quackity was quickly snapped out of his thought pattern when Schlatt got a hard grip on his wrist. “I don’t ever want to see those ugly things. Why are they so small? Fucking useless, you look like a joke. What kind of fucking government has a rubber ducky as a vice.” The breath that hit Quackity’s face reeked of alcohol, not an uncommon occurrence.  

“Schlatt- it isn’t a big deal, no one here would judge me,” Quackity uttered with a new-found courage. Why should he accept Schlatt's slander? Why was he even hiding in the first place? It was stupid, he should-

The courage disappeared even faster than it appeared, being replaced with a searing pain in his back instead. Schlatt had shoved him into the wall, and hard at that. All Quackity could do was cry out as he heard a sickening snap, crumpling on the floor right after.

The horned man stared down at the duck hybrid. “Don’t you ever fucking talk back to me, Q. Understood?” The words were dripping with rage, spoken slowly and over pronounced as if Quackity was too dumb to understand the simple message. 

All Schlatt got in return was a whimper and a nod, the shorter not being able to respond in a better way.

Before leaving, the president carefully caressed his vice’s face, putting gentle care into it, a starch contrast to the violent display before. When the hand pulled away, Quackity found himself missing it.

He had learned his lesson.

—

Quackity made himself as comfortable as possible on the makeshift surgery table. When he glanced up, he spotted an almost uncomfortable looking Techno and a concerned Philza. It’d be fine. Instead of looking up at them again, he pulled the beanie on his head over his eyes with a grumble, barely picking up when Philza spoke.

“Alright mate, stay on your side like that. It’ll hurt like hell but be over quick, yeah?” With a small nod from the patient, Philza looked at Techno and nodded.

White, hot, searing pain spread all along his left wing. The cold fire spread across his back, and a vile scream ripped its way through his throat without his permission. He barely heard the rustling of fabric and materials. Hands moved to grab his wing and keep the parts in place, followed by the pouring of a potion that felt comfortably warm but did little against the pain. The weird sensation that potion-use usually brought spread through his body, and he felt another pair of hands grounding him. He hadn't noticed, but somewhere along the line fat tears had started spilling from his eyes. That's embarrassing, his mind supplied, the only coherent thought in the sea of pain.

After what felt like hours of pain, he came back a bit, hearing soothing words from the blond man mingling with his own heavy breathing. It felt strange to be assured by someone he had declared an enemy. He could care less what Techno was doing as of now as long as it wasn’t killing him.

“T-thanks…” the words scraped against his throat and he could hear Phil wince.

“Take a breather, you did great.” At the go ahead, Quackity decided that passing out was the best option.

Chapter Text

Philza sat down in the common area across from Techno with a sigh. Both of them were more exhausted than they thought. The emotional rollercoaster of finding out Quackity was a hybrid, then having to reset his wing was very exhausting. By the looks of it, Techno felt the same.

It was Technoblade who broke the heavy silence.

“So, that was uh…” Techno trailed off in exhaustion. A few downy feathers had gotten on his clothes, regular royal cloak off to the side. Instead he looked at home, relaxed in the little cottage, wearing a white button up, brown trousers and bots with his signature red sash around his waist. His hair was pulled into a loose bun so he could focus without getting hair in his face.

Phil glanced over at Techno and gave him a strained smile. The same fluffy yellow feathers adorned Philza’s robe, and he absentmindedly started picking them away from his clothes. “Thanks for sticking up, Tech. I know you two aren’t on the best of terms but that couldn't have been nice for him.” Phil knew that Techno knew about wing care enough to understand why the sight of the crumpled wings was enough to make the older winged man want to help.

The piglin man sighed again. “It’s fine, it’s not like I had much of a choice with you around.” A low grumble made it’s way up his throat. “I’m just shocked he even let me, our last meeting was me putting a pickaxe through his teeth. Must’ve been real bad if he came to my house for help.” Now, Techno wasn’t one for emotions, lots of the time, but as the reality of the situation set it he started to get almost a bit… Upset? Not for Quackity, but the fact that something like that happened was upsetting, he thought.

“Looks like he seriously hadn’t touched his wings in years,” Phil uttered with hands on his face. “Don’t know what the fuck happened to him.” The other shrugged, knowing even less than Phil. He remembers seeing Quackity around long before this, but he was always seen goofing off more or less. It was a huge contrast to the shaky guy asking for help that was here now.

Settling to just hum in response, Techno got up and walked quietly to the kitchen, deciding to help pass the time somehow. He opened up the cabinets, which were filled with herbs, conserved goods, bread and several boxes of miscellaneous foods. After rummaging around he brought out three bags of tea (Techno likes two bags of tea with milk, Phil likes his “normal,” as he would put it). Without much thought he mechanically started preparing two sandwiches and the cups of tea for the both of them in hopes of getting their mind off things.

Carefully he brought the cups and sandwiches out to Phil, who gave Techno a small tender smile in understanding. Without saying much more, the two slipped into silence, enjoying their minimal reward and the peace while it lasted.

—

Slowly, reality started seeping back in. Quackity felt the uncomfortable, hard wooden table underneath him, felt the dull pain in his back that had grown a constant. Despite it all, it was nice. It felt warm and comforting. Someone had given him a slightly too large, knitted sweater with two holes cut out in the back. Things haven’t felt this calm in a long while, he could relax. No more worrying over the government being overthrown, or paperwork that needed to be handed in, or Schlatt coming in and seeing his-

His wings were exposed. Where was he even? Was he in the white house? No, this definitely wasn’t the white house. The dark wooden material, warmth, and smell of pine made for a strange sense of comfort that never existed in the white house. Most noticeably, the lack of pungent alcohol scent eliminated that possibility.

Inner thoughts continued to race in Quackity’s head as he tried to get up, stumbling all the way. The soft murmuring of conversation in another room stopped abruptly. Quackity had barely registered it at first, but when it was gone, he found himself missing the comforting background noise, the prickling silence feeling overbearing in its place.

Shuffling of fabric and socks against wood could be heard, heavy footsteps approaching. The small hybrid choked on a breath he didn’t know he was holding, fearing who would see him.

He wasn’t exactly put at ease when a very grumpy-looking Technoblade approached, looking bored as ever. This was it, Quackity was dead.

“Cool, you’re awake. We were kinda scared you were gonna enter a comatose state or somethin’- don’t ducks hibernate?” Quackity’s ears buzzed as he processed his enemy’s words. All he could manage was to stare at the man in disbelief as the man in question stood, staring down his small guest. Slowly but surely the realisation of what Quackity had gotten himself into dawned. Of course he’d come crawling to Techno for help. Embarrassing.

“Woah, hey uh… That was a joke, I know ducks don’t hibernate. I’m not an idiot,” Techno continued awkwardly when he noticed the slightly panicked look on the duck hybrids face. “’S a joke. Uhhhhh- Phil?”

“Please don’t kill me!” Quackity had blurted it out before he could think it over. Yeah, it probably was embarrassing, but he had one life left and didn’t want to die in the middle of nowhere. The only response he got was a slight cringe from Techno and a booming silence for what seemed like forever.

“Phil? Phil- come get him I don’t speak bird-“ Techno gestured in the general direction of Quackity, throwing a look back towards where his friend sat.

He knew The Blade wasn’t one for social interaction, but come on.

Phil slowly walked towards the commotion, looking a bit exhausted, hair ruffled and striped bucket-hat tossed haphazardly on top of his head. When he walked in on the two, he gave one of his signature smiles. Somehow, despite the situation, it made Quackity just a tiny bit calmer.

“Hey Techno. Glad to see you awake Quackity. How’re you feeling?”

Quackity’s mouth opened and closed for a while as he wracked his mind for an answer. So they’d helped him. The memories became clearer and clearer, and he managed calm down marginally. “I- uh… good, thanks. Thanks for- for fixing that for me. Real life saver.” By the end of his sentence he managed to squeeze some energy into it, wishing to bring back the joyful and joking energy he usually had.

Phil sighed for what seemed to be the 100th time that day, shaking his head a tiny bit. It reminded Quackity of an exhausted parent. “It’s no problem kiddo. I’m just shocked on how you let that go for so long, it was obviously an old injury.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” he blurted out once again. “Doesn’t matter.”

Techno sent him a weirded-out gaze, leaning against the door frame a tiny bit away. “You literally had a broken wing and muscle fatigue. It looks like you haven’t preened in months.” He cocked an eyebrow at the other. “Now I’m no bird but that seems like a big deal.”

The ever returning silence laid like a thick blanket over the three.

“I- It’s not like I could do anything, only Schlatt knew I had wings and he’s the fucking reason I’m here now. So get off your high horse pig bastard, you act like you know more about wings than me.” The youngest sucked in a breath. He hadn’t planned on lashing out, but once he started the words just rolled off his tongue. Being angry was infinitely much easier than being vulnerable and sad.

A strange look passed over Phil’s face, and if Quackity looked closer, he might have recognised it as remorse, pity, maybe sadness. Empathy. But he refused to look up at either of them, instead burning holes into the floor with his gaze.

“Quackity look,” he recoiled at the use of his name. “You obviously need help. Now if you want to tell me, or Techno for that matter, what happened, we will be here for you. If you don’t, that’s fine. We’re just concerned.”

He scoffed. “Speak for yourself, I doubt bacon over there is concerned.” Images of the pickaxe flashed inside of Quackity’s head as he risked a glance at Techno. His usual mask of indifference had only slipped a tiny bit.

“No, this is pretty concerning. I didn’t lie when I said you look like shit,” Techno admitted, earning him a smack on the arm from Phil. “What? It doesn’t look good exactly.”

“You- can you just shut up for a second? I’m leaving, this was a bad idea. Thanks for snapping my wing again, but I really gotta go.” Quackity interrupted and whirled around, walking towards the door looking a tiny bit angry and confused. He didn’t get far though, a hand tugging at the sleeve of his borrowed sweater.

“Quack, please stay for a while. Just let me fix your wings. Besides, I don’t think you want to go outside,” Phil said in a calm manner, pointing out the window to the snowstorm. “You can barely fly how it is either. Come on.” Phil’s gentle hand moves away from Quackity’s arm, instead moving to put a hand around the younger’s shoulder and lead him to the couch in the common area. He grumbled and let himself be lead away. The older man gave another comforting smile.

—

So here they were, Quackity sitting curled up in front of Phil, who sat behind him with his hands hovering over the crumpled golden wings.

The more Phil looked, the more concerned he got. Through the sweater he had given Quackity he could see blood stained on the youngers back, as well as on the right wing. Most probably he had broken a blood feather that was growing in. Phil cringed.

“Okay mate, I have a wet towel that I’ll wipe down some of the blood with. Then I’ll just start preening, tell me if I do anything wrong.” Phil spoke in a careful tone as if to not spook the man in front of him.

“I’m not a kid, just do it! Stop babying me.” Quackity sat in crisscross with his back straight, bouncing his left leg impatiently. His face and wings were puffed up the tiniest bit in irritation, and Techno had to laugh.

“What now asshole!” he snapped, turning around to the piglin hybrid.

“Nothing, you just look ridiculous. I can’t believe I got kidnapped by you, you look-“ Techno stopped when he caught the look on Philza’s face from the corner of his eye.

The duck grinned for himself, unaware of the man behind him. “Yeah, that’s right,” he mumbled out. “Okay, let’s go, yeah? Get it over with.” He glanced over his shoulder nervously at the blond who nodded in return.

Quackity choked on a yelp when Phil started fiddling with the feathers, not being prepared for the flash of pain that would come with the touch. Phil just sighed and ran his hand down the wings gently.

“I told you it’ll hurt, but you have to fix it. You can do that for me, yeah?”

God, he felt like a child, but Quackity nodded along without a word, deciding to bite down on his finger instead. Before they started the process again, he threw a glance towards The Blade who seemed intrigued..? He was hard to read.

Gentle hands slowly began to work again, trying to keep it light and fast. The pain ricocheted up the small wings, and Quackity had to try his best to keep himself from shaking too bad.

Steadily, his wings were cleaned and put into place, preened to look almost normal again. And despite how painful it was, Quackity was grateful. With a shaky breath, he looked back at Philza who beamed at him. At least one of them was happy.

“…Thanks, Philza.” His voice was small and quivered a tiny bit when he finally spoke up after the hour of preening and cleaning. “I appreciate it.”

“No worries, Quack. I think it’s good if you stay here until you heal a bit more. Or at least until the snowstorm settles.” He scoots away from the young man a bit, leaning to make eye contact. He noticed the tired look on his face and decided to double down. “Yeah, you’re definetily staying. Tech has enough stuff for you.” He gave his old friend a look that he hoped conveyed “be nice”.

Quackity just nodded again, mumbling. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks.” He leaned back on the couch tentatively, careful with not jostling his wings anymore. The energy had been zapped from his body, tiredness tugging at his limbs. The winged man gave him another one of those weird looks that was encrypted with emotions before standing up.

“Tell me or Techno if you need anything, alright? Get some rest.” And with that, Philza left the younger two alone in the room.

Chapter Text

Technoblade had never been good at social interaction, that was a secret to exactly no one. So why Philza would leave him alone with someone he barely knew was beyond him.

He sat uncomfortably in his armchair across from his guest, carefully studying him. He looked extra small when he curled in on himself, trying to find a position to sit in that wasn’t so uncomfortable. Really, he should feel some kind of resentment for Quackity, and he did, but when he saw the small wings he couldn’t help the twinge of sympathy that he felt. Not even now could he do anything about it, so instead he stood up, got a blanket and tossed it at the others lap.

“If you want it,” Techno said gruffly, sitting back down and picking up a book along the way. Quackity had jumped up, not having been expecting the sudden act of kindness but took the blanket without a word. Techno huffed and gave him a look.

He desperately wanted the story behind how it got so bad, why he didn’t do anything about it, but he knew that they were playing the waiting game. For now, he’d just have to keep Quackity somewhat alive, maybe even comfortable.

For once, they slipped into a comfortable silence compared to the ones before. An odd sense of calm slipped into the room between the two, and Techno relished in it. Maybe, just maybe, the calm would stay. Maybe they could keep him here without having it be a complete mess.

(Most probably not.)

Quackity’s head snapped up to look at Techno. His eyes looked a tiny bit glassy, which was understandable but maybe it should be concerning. Phil knew this sort of stuff better than him.

“I-“ It looked as if Quackity’s words got caught and stuck in his throat, as if he swallowed around them and spluttered for a second. “I can take care of myself, you know?”

“Well, obviously you can’t since you came to us for help.” Techno looked unimpressed, even sounded unimpressed. It was half a joke in a frail attempt to lighten the mood. Maybe it was the wrong move.

Quackity gaped for a moment and techno seemed to realise his mistake. But it was true, wasn’t it?

“…Yeah. Whatever.” The shorter took the offered blanket and shrugged it on, turning his face away from Techno and curling up on the couch. He tugged the beanie over his head to make sure it was nice and secure.

It almost looked as if Quackity was going to fall asleep with how much he melted into the cushions. The features on his face was abrupted by a large scar, running from his lower lip up to his left eye, a gruesome reminder of the battle between the two in the room. Technoblade almost felt bad for what he’d done to him. Ultimately, Quackity was a victim of the government as well, but it’s hard to take that fact into account when said victim is hunting you down in full netherite with a diamond axe. And it looks like he was more of a victim than techno thought at first, having obviously not been treated well by Schlatt.

Techno snapped out of his thoughts by a voice. “Stop thinking so loud. And stop looking at me,” Quackity grumbled groggily. His hands flew up once again to tug the beanie down even further, this time so it covered almost all of his eyes.

“How did you even manage to get your wings like that?” He decided that avoiding the demand all together was the smart move. “It obviously wasn’t just a one-off thing. I’ve never even seen your wings.”

“Hm, I wonder why!” Quackity’s patience was running thing, still feeling some pain from when Phil got his wings sorted. It didn’t help that many of the yellow feathers fell out or had to be pulled out. “It’s maybe like I didn’t want you to find out or something.”

They fell quiet again, the duck hybrid shrugging the blanket closer, looking comically grumpy.

This time it was Techno’s turn to speak up, and he did so very carefully. “How was Schlatt? Obviously I hate him, he was the president and I resent any type of government-“ he started quietly rambling before getting on track again. “Was he at least like a cool guy?” Really, Techno was grasping at straws for a conversation topic, but he hoped it wasn’t that obvious. He can’t really say “Hey, how have things been since the time I last murdered you?”

Quackity’s eyes widened but he stayed at his self proclaimed spot on the couch. It seemed as if he was thinking things over, and he understood what he meant when he said Techno had “thought too loud”.

“He was shit,” came the short answer after long deliberation.

And then Techno snorted. Loudly.

“Hey- what the fuck, man? You asked me!” Quackity snapped up and turned to glare at Techno, his energy suddenly coming back to him. He only laughed harder in response.

“Well put. I thought you were one for dramatics, but alright.” When Quackity started trying to get up from his place at the couch, Techno held his hands up in a sign of compliance. “Not that you’re wrong.” He got a suspicious squint in response, but his guest sat down gingerly again, but this time sitting down to face Techno with a scrutinising gaze.

“Why do you even want to know? You hate government, shouldn’t that me enough of a reason for why I’m right?” They just stared at each other for a short period of time, nothing being said. “You’re fucking weird,” Quackity concluded, bundling himself up.

Techno had an unimpressed expression on his face, staring down the man bundled up in his blanket, on his couch. “I’m literally housing you.”

Finally, a small laughed was coaxed from Quackity. It was good, a reassurance that maybe their effort to help was adding up.

Chapter Text

The whipping, cold winds hit Philza’s face as he ploughed his way through the snow on his way back home. He had made a visit to the nearby village for some resources, who knew how long Quackity would stay. As he walked he shrugged the blue and golden robe higher up, trying to gain some protection from the peltering snowflakes that were obscuring his view. Temperatures fell dangerously low around these parts, and Techno had made sure to fashion a thick winter coat for his old friend, even going as far as to make a matching set for the two of them.

Bag in hand, he finally barged into the small vacation house that he now called home. Immediately he was hit by the sound of banter, almost slight yelling. He quickly made sure to drop off the supplies he got at the nearest table before rushing towards the noise.

Shit. It had obviously been a bad idea to leave Techno and Quackity alone, especially after he knew what happened between them. But he thought Techno could take care of himself, and by extension, Quackity. But apparently that was too high of an expectation, and he didn’t blame either of them for it. He tried to calm his racing mind as he finally came into the room were they both sat.

“STOP CALLING ME THAT!”

“I’m not calling you “Big Q”, that’s stupid. And you’re short.”

“At least don’t call me fucking Quack, that’s just a duck noise!” Quackity spat out the nickname like he didn’t want it in his mouth. “I’m Big Q, everyone calls me that! I’m average height, I’ll let you know-“

He was cut off by the piglin hybrids loud laugh. “Who is everyone, Tommy? He calls everyone big, because he’s small. And you’re a duck, it makes sense for us to call you Quack. Or Small Q” Techno leaned back in his seat.

“I’ll call you oink, then!”

“You’ve already called me pig bitch and bacon, I think I’ll live.”

Phil’s concern melted away in seconds when it finally clicked. One of his hands went up to his face and he tilted his head back, letting out a loud laugh. That caught both of the men’s attention, both of their heads snapping towards Phil at the same time.

“Phil, Phil, Techno won’t stop bullying me. He’s being a bitch!” Quackity untangled himself from his spot on the couch, blanket from earlier tossed to the side in favour of scrambling up to stand behind Phil. When Quackity was behind Phil who was hollering with laughter at this point, he peaked around and stuck out a middle finger towards Technoblade. “He won’t stop calling me names and telling me I’m dumb for using an axe instead of a sword!”

Techno rose a bit from his comfortable armchair next to the open fireplace. “I’m right! If you wanted to actually kill me you should have brought a sword, the attack damage is lower but it makes up for it in speed-“ but soon Techno was cut off by another shout from Quackity.

“Yeah yeah, whatever! You and your god damned PVP strategies, why are you bitching about me not killing you, shouldn’t you be happy?!” His voice was loud like it usually was, if only a bit hoarse from all the screaming from the day before. After uttering his sentence, he ducked behind Phil and gave the oldest a comedic look, mouthing “who is this guy” to him.

“Don’t be mistaken, I’m giving you advice, but I could still easily kill you. It’s boring fighting against incompetent people.” Technoblade chuckled loudly as he heard the squawk from behind Phil who just kept laughing, wiping at his eyes.

“Jesus fuck, and here I thought you two were mortal enemies,” Phil wheezed out after a few breaths of fresh air.

“We are! He blew up my fucking country and won’t stop calling me Quack! Just at the “ity”! How fucking lazy are you?!” Quackity took a few steps closer to Techno, finally abandoning his human shield. However, when Techno stood up and peered down at the duck hybrid, he instantly folded with a little “woah, hey-“ and tucked himself back behind Phil, grabbing the back of his jacket. “No need to get violent, piggie.” He laughed nervously, and Techno laughed humourlessly back at him, smile plastered onto his face. Quackity just inched more and more behind Philza who had resumed to laughing.

Techno let out a normal chuckle and stepped back with his hands in the air once again, making Quackity relax. Of course they were joking, Quackity knew that, but… Technoblade was a scary man, and there was no way of denying it. One of his hands absentmindedly went up to touch the fresh scar stretched across his face. The two had helped him, so he tried to take fear he felt and trample on it, and it was beginning to become easier by the minute. Their domestic routines, familiar banter that filled the house with white noise, and patience with him was a lot different from what he had expected when he had arrived.

—

Quackity dragged his feet behind him the snow, shivering wildly. The frozen air that hung all around him seemed to bite at his skin, right through his thin shirt. His wigs puffed up underneath the shirt, painfully constrained.

He had vowed to never let anyone know about his wings, people didn’t usually take well to them, especially Schlatt who confirmed his suspicions. But it had gotten too bad.

After months of keeping his wings and his secret under wraps, a growing ache had steadily grown worse and worse. Then Schlatt had broken one of them, and all Quackity could do was wrap it up somewhat and hope it would heal somewhat correctly. But that wasn’t the reason he was searching for Philza right now.

When he had decided to finally start taking care of his wings- of himself, it had all tumbled down hill. At the first attempt of preening the mess of feathers that used to be his wings, he accidentally snagged a blood wing that was growing in, blood spilling from it concerningly fast. In a frenzy he got towels, squished it up of the source in hopes of it doing anything. When it didn’t stop, he knew he needed the help of someone else, someone who had wings preferably, which left himself with one option.

That one option lived in the snow biome with “The Blade”. With no other option, Quackity had stuffed his wings in the shirt, rushing away to get help.

Most likely he would get thrown out, best case scenario. Worst case? Driven away and killed for thinking he could take advantage of people he supposedly despised. But the pain of his wings were beginning to become too bad to handle, so the pros and cons weighed out in his mind.

Snow was a lot colder than he remembered it. The arctic winds tussled with the hair that spilled out from under his beanie, teasing him in a way for thinking he belonged in the cruel icy surroundings. But he was determined to reach his goal and have at least a chance at bettering his situation.

And in the distance, the small home glowed with a warm, welcoming light.

—

After some more teasing and bantering, Phil got to making Dinner for the trio, asking both Quackity and Techno for help. They were deemed fit to peel the potatoes for the stew and barely anything else. And even at that, Phil peeked over his shoulder to make sure they weren’t being too reckless and hurting themselves. Quackity was close a few times, but with a reassuring smile and a nervous chuckle, he had successfully warded off Philza.

When you work for your dinner, it tastes better Quackity found out. He almost inhaled his food as Phil and Techno indulged in their casual conversation, almost as if he wasn’t there.

This was definitely not what he thought would happen when he searched out Philza Minecraft, but the surprise was a welcome one.

Chapter Text

To be acting so casually around Phil and Techno already was almost an out of body experience for Quackity. The way they had eaten dinner together felt comforting, yet odd. Very odd. He wasn’t used to comfort.

His days had usually been spent walking on eggshells around a very drunken president, praying that he didn’t do anything that the other would deem as too horrible, too irredeemable. That was the norm just a couple of months ago, only for his world to be toppled upside down when that very same president died right in front of him.

Saying that he missed Schlatt felt vile, but in a way, he did. He missed knowing what to expect. To know that each day would end painfully was better than crossing your fingers and hoping for the best, gaining a fleeting hope that maybe, just maybe today wouldn’t leave him feeling as horrible.

But now he was here, watching Philza Minecraft put sheets on the couch for him. There was no Schlatt.

“You fell asleep right after we set your wing and slept through the night,” Phil had explained. “It didn’t look very comfortable, but we didn’t want to jostle you. The couch might not be the best, but it’s better than a wooden table at least!”

Quackity nodded and let out a little chuckle at the man, hovering around him awkwardly in hopes of maybe helping. “Thanks, Phil. Really I could leave if you need me to-“ Phil gave him a look that was hard for Quackity to decipher, layers and layers of emotions on the older man’s face.

“Quack, it’s fine. You can’t even leave with the snow out, we’ve been over this.” Phil looked up from preparing the guest couch, putting a hand on his hip and looking at his guest. “No choice but to stay with us!” He added on with a smile and a chuckle, patting Quackity’s shoulder. The shorter flinched, to Philza’s concern, but he gave a small grin which helped reassure him a bit. After that, he gestured to the couch that looked more like a bed, filled with warm, comfortable looking blankets and pillows.

“I’ll get you some PJ’s or something, hopefully it’s good enough.” Quackity nodded enthusiastically, thanking him once again before Phil left to get the aforementioned pyjamas.

Just like the sweater he wore, the pyjamas hung from his body, too large for him. Quackity didn’t mind, though. The only annoying thing were the too long pant legs which he had to cuff a few times in order to avoid slipping on the polished wooden floor. There had also been made two holes in the back of the large shirt he had been given. That was another strange thing he had to get used to; the expectation that his wings would be out all the time.

But now wasn't the time to think about that. Exhaustion weighed Quackity down, and he decided to tuck himself into the newly made sofa. He grumbled out a small “good night, old man” to Philza who was exiting the room and putting out the lights. It didn’t take long for the grasps of unconsciousness to grab Quackity and drag him down with it, letting him fall to sleep.

—

He was at the white house. The desk cluttered with paperwork and books were a dead giveaway, and a sight he had grown used to over the months. A steady unease grew in the pit of his stomach as he saw the sheer amount of it, but instead of focusing on that he turned his gaze away from the desk, standing up to investigate his familiar room.

The room looked a mess, a few of Schlatt’s abandoned bottles littering every surface. It made Quackity a bit queasy, fearing for how much the man consumed. The unease turned into fear as he heard the clicking of dress shoes in the hall outside, and in a whirl wind he scrambled to get back to his seat behind the pile of work.

Proud horns peaked through the doorway before Quackity could pretend to look busy, his breath hitching.

“Hey, how’s my favourite vice doing, huh?” Came Schlatts words, bouncing around the cold and desolate office with a fake cheery tone. “Just thought I’d check in on you.” It was obvious the man had had something to drink, it was more of a surprise if he hadn’t. It was the norm.

Quackity forced himself to speak up, response lodged in his throat. He could barely hear his own words over the sound of rushing blood in his ears. “Hi Schlatt, I’m,” he cleared his throat before continuing, hating how small he sounded. “I’m just working on the tasks you gave me.” Shaky hands went to reach for the nearest file, but he was unable to grab it. He tried harder and harder, Schlatt’s ram eyes boring holes in the back of his hands.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re working. God, you can’t even do the smallest tasks I entrust you with?” Venom seeped through the words as he went on. “Fucking pathetic, I thought you were the one asking for more responsibility as vice. I’ll tell you what, Quackity.” Schlatts hand snapped to hold Quackity’s wrist in a painful iron grip.

“You’re nothing but a pretty face I keep around. You got greedy. Everything about you is replaceable, Quackity. I should get someone who is competent enough to do work and doesn’t have those ugly fucking wings.”

The words felt like knives stabbing into him, sending sharp jolts of pain all over. Shakily, he looked over his back to see his wings exposed. Why were they out? No- no no no no, Schlatt didn’t like it when he showed them, he never showed them, so why-

The presidents sharp voice cut through his spiralling thoughts. “Actually, I think we could fix one of your problems, dear.” The hand that had held Quackity’s shaking wrist travelled up his arm gently, oh so very gently. He kept going until he reached the back of the younger, right where wings met skin. One of the sharp nails started drawing circles just a bit too roughly, making Quackity shake, fearing the worst.

“How about we get rid of these for you?”

And before he could react, yell, even say anything, Schlatt’s hand gripped at his wings and-

—

Quackity woke up with a scream, clamping his hands down over his mouth a few seconds too late. An ugly sob clawed its way through his throat, and Quackity hated himself for it. Steadily his breathing turned more erratic, more irregular sobs and gasps than actual breaths of air. He felt small as ever as he curled up on the couch, body wracked by what he hoped were silent sobs. Everything around him seemed to narrow down, warping around him until he could only hear his own rapid thoughts, breaths and sobs.

He sat in the nothingness for what seemed like forever, feeling nothing but the violent thumping of his heart and pain constricting his chest. Tears kept flowing freely, and he got the feeling that even if he had the energy to try to make it stop, he wouldn't have been able to.

When reality finally started to seep in again, he could feel the touch of a hand on his back. This touch was nice, however, a grounding warmth that had no ill intent behind it unlike the contact he’d come to expect after his time as vice president. After that, the sound of soft murmuring, about what he couldn’t really tell yet. All he knew is that it was very much needed.

After what felt like hours and hours of him trying to breathe normally again, he finally heard what the other person was going on about.

“-In squares, you’ve got it. You’re doing amazing, okay? In. One, two, three, four. Out. One, two, three, four.”

Quackity tried forming words, mouth moving uselessly and awkwardly. All that came out was a noise that was embarrassingly close to a whimper. Deciding that talking was too hard, one of his hands searched its way up to his face, feeling the wetness on his cheeks. Another wet cough made its way up as he started wiping his face. The steady hand on his back kept moving in circles, keeping him in the moment. After another few seconds, he tried following the instructions as best he could, counting his breaths and breathing like the person beside him.

A glass of water was handed to him from another set of hands, and he shakily took it into his hands without much thought. Only when he drank had he noticed how much his throat hurt from what had transpired.

“Quackity, how are you feeling, bud?” The voice was gentle and tentative, and Quackity could recognise it as Philza's now that he was more lucid. The open question left him reaching for an answer he didn’t have. He didn’t know how he was feeling. He shouldn’t have been surprised something like this happened, it’s not the first time, and it always felt horrible. Was that an answer?

Quackity shrugged. “Bad,” he said in a tiny voice, trying to laugh a bit at his own situation but failing miserably, only tearing up again instead. “Really bad- i-it was really bad.” The confession forced its way out of his mouth before he could censor himself.

Phil brought a hand to touch Quackity’s hair but gave him a gentle look instead. “Is it alright if I touch you, or does that make it worse?” Quackity just nodded at Phil with his eyes squeezed closed, not trusting his voice all that much at the moment.

“’s alright, y-you… yeah, ‘s okay.”

At that Phil started threading his hand through Quackity’s tangled hair that had been released from the beanie during his sleep. The gentle touch was new but so, so welcomed. He leaned into it, moving closer to Phil, barely noticing Techno who stood awkwardly at the other end of the room.

After a while, when sleep tugged at Quackity once again, he spoke up.

“… Had a bad dream,” was all he said, staying close to the comforting presence of the older man.

Phil decided to not pressure the duck hybrid, settling to say a simple “you did” in response.

“Schlatt had- he…” His eyes fluttered open and he kept a steady gaze on his lap. “I was in the white house and he…“ Every word was uttered slowly, more thought out. “My wings. R-ripped ‘em out.” More details than that Quackity couldn’t give at the moment. Philza’s face had scrunched up either way, not liking the implications of the dream or why Quackity would have such a dream.

“It’s alright, Schlatt is gone. You’re here with me and Techno.” The younger’s eyes flicked around the room, unreadable expression on his face.

That was the problem, he wanted to say. He missed him, and was so utterly terrified of him at the same time. His emotions were ready to go at war with each other.

“Yeah, he is.”

Chapter Text

Techno rarely slept for several reasons. The voices who swirled around his head and reverberated against his skull weren’t very forgiving and didn’t pay any mind to his sleep schedule, even if they did simmer down at certain times. It boiled down to other factors as well, like night terrors and just general productiveness. Why waste time with your eyes closed when you can explore the world?

“Chat” as he so lovingly liked to call his voices had been especially lively today, supplying his mind with endless thoughts. Lots of them were concerned for Quackity, seeming to fixate on his presence. Other times, they just said stupid things like "E" for some reason. This was the reason as to why he had decided to sit up all night once again, holed up in his room upstairs working on enchanting his newly made netherite spares. It was intricate work and took several tries before he got the results he wanted, hours spent bent over the enchanting table. A pile of blue rocks littered the floor around him, the piles growing larger as he went on.

His concentration was popped like a balloon when he heard a muffled yell from downstairs, focus instantly being replaced by awareness. In just a few seconds, he had flown up to fetch his sword that rested safely in his enderchest and rushed down the ladder towards the source of the shriek.

To his surprise, the door was closed, and no one had in fact tried to break in to kill someone as he thought. A sudden sense of relief washed over him, the worst case scenario already having been eliminated. That relief curled around in him and warped into a sense of dread as he heard choked sobs from the common area form behind him. The sense of reassurance from before slowly slipped away. The voices chanted words that overlapped and only made sure to worry Techno more. A spare few “blood for the blood god” flickered in the back of his head, other voices being more concerned or scared. Finally kicking into drive, Techno started walking through the house, inching towards the living room. It was obvious that that was where the sobs echoed from, but he’d like to postpone the inevitable, bracing himself along the way.

A shaking frame sat on the sofa, the source of the sobs. Quackity seemed to not notice the other man in the room, which made Techno get more concerned. Despite how much he tried not to, it was hard to stay hostile towards someone who was being so open and vulnerable. Pushing away his thoughts, he got a tiny bit closer to the quivering hybrid with his hands up.

“Hey Quackity, can you hear me?” The words flew over Quackity’s head, not a single sign pointing towards that he could comprehend that Techno had talked to him or was even there, still. Slowly, Techno got closer. “I think you had a nightmare, alright? Those… aren’t real,” he said, cringing at his own words. He knew exactly the position Quackity was in, he had first hand experience, even, so how come it was still so hard to formulate words of comfort?

Instead, he kept creeping closer for what felt like hours as to not startle the other. “I’ll need you to breathe with me if you can hear me,” he uttered, voice low as to not startle Quackity too much. When nothing seemed to reach him, Techno decided to carefully put a hand on the shaking man’s arm. Techno counted it as a small win when he leaned into it more, not flinching away. He kept running his hands up and down the shorter’s arm in what he hoped was a more comforting motion than an awkward one. As Quackity started breathing just a tiny bit more, Phil entered the room looking ruffled, hair tangled from sleep and wings slightly puffed out.

Techno spared Phil a pleading glance, and Phil rushed over. Techno relinquished his seat next to Quackity to the other man, trusting that he was better at comforting than he was. He decided to busy him with the task of getting some water for Quackity. Philza’s soft murmurs of reassurances and instructions followed him throughout the house as he made the small trip.

Quackity had seemed to have calmed down if just a bit, some recognition glimmering in his dark eyes. It looked as if he actually was aware of what was going on around him, and after gaping for a few seconds, he processed Phil’s instructions and tried breathing.

For a moment, Techno just stood and awkwardly looked on as their guest regained his composure and started breathing correctly again. When he seemed to be somewhat alright, Techno handed Quackity the glass of water which he took with shaky hands, drinking carefully.

The room never fell silent, Phil’s murmurs continuing all the while Quackity's heavy breaths started to even out bit by bit. Other than that, nothing could be heard. It stayed like that for a while, a weird sense of calm falling over the room.

“Quackity, how are you feeling, bud?” Phil was the first to speak out, deeming that enough time had passed apparently. Techno watched the two on the couch from a bit away, not knowing how to help at this point.

It felt as if it took Quackity forever to articulate his answer, a huge difference from his usually impulsive nature. “Bad,” was all he said for a while before adding on. “Really bad- i-it was really bad,” he hesitantly continued. His already damp eyes grew more wet, a few tears shedding, Techno noticed.

“Is it alright if I touch you, or does that make it worse?” Phil already had his hand half way up, ready to comfort the duck hybrid. Techno recognised this scene, but usually he was the one being comforted and shielded from whatever night terror had hunted him down in his sleep.

He heard Quackity stutter out some sort of affirmation and saw Phil start tussling with his hair in succession. Techno hadn’t even thought about the fact that Quackity wasn’t wearing his signature beanie. Maybe it had fell off? He had been wearing it right before bed, probably avoiding showing his hair for as long as possible. Hopefully he didn’t sleep in it at least.

After a long while, the two were surprised when Quackity spoke up without being prompted to. “… Had a bad dream,” he slurred out, obviously tired from lack of sleep and oxygen form his previous panic attack. At least that was Techno’s guess to as what it was.

Phil sat quietly, scared to discourage the man from speaking. “You did,” he said finally.

Quackity took another shaky breath before continuing. “Schlatt had- he… I was in the whitehouse and he…” Techno leaned in a tiny bit as he finally got some context as to might’ve happened to his former enemy. “My wings. R-ripped ‘em out.” At that, Techno got a small lump in his throat, and by the looks of it, so did his old friend. The voices butted their wait to the front of his mind, exclaiming words of distress for the youngest hybrid, and even if Techno tried to ignore it, he couldn’t deny that he agreed with them.

Phil shifted his position on the couch but kept moving his hands to comfort Quackity. “It’s alright, Schlatt is gone. You’re here with me and Techno.”

And for a second more, an array of emotions passed over Quackity’s face. Techno squinted at it, trying to gather a sliver of information. He looked sad, overwhelmingly so, with the fat tears that still rolled down his cheeks, but also resentful. Angry?

“Yeah, he is,” came the small and shaky answer.

Silence fell over the room again, and calm seemed to return to Quackity, but Philza never relented and sat with him until he finally seemed to doze off again. Only then did Phil take his eyes off of him, instead looking Techno’s way with a pained and exhausted expression.

“Thanks for steppin’ in, Phil,” Techno responded quietly. “I- I’m not the best at that,” he continued. Despite everything, Phil returned a small, tired smile to his old friend and slowly got up from his spot next to their new friend.

“It’s alright, mate. Get some rest, it’s taxing for all of us, not just him,” he said, nodding towards the sleeping figure on the couch. Techno just nodded gruffly, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be sleeping. Phil seemed to understand too, judging by the unimpressed look he gave him. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything about it and just made his way upstairs to his own room again with a “good night, Tech,” and a pat to the taller man’s shoulder.

When Phil had left, Techno sat down in the armchair close to the couch, deciding that it maybe wouldn’t hurt to stay available if something were to happen again.

…

Okay, maybe he was a little worried.

The only information they had received about what made Quackity panic so badly was that Schlatt was involved, and that he had ripped his wings. Those few words had made gory associations and pictures pop up in Techno’s head, enough for him to want to stay and check in just in case anything was needed. Enchanting could wait for another sleepless night; god knows he had too many of those. A book and some company would be good enough for tonight.

Chapter Text

Techno had kept watch over his guest as the hours slipped away, sun almost peeking through the violent swirls of snow outside. Without much better to do, Techno decided to start a fire in the fireplace that adorned the room and make some breakfast.

Phil had been right. Last night’s debacle had left him a bit more exhausted than expected, but something inside of him wouldn’t let him sleep, unsure if he’d have to help again soon or not. With a sigh he walked towards the kitchen, getting some of the eggs that Phil had recently gotten on his trip to the village. Scrambled eggs would do, and it was easy enough to make.

He slipped into a comfortable routine as he mindlessly worked with preparing the food. Everything worked like a well-oiled machine. The retirement life left Techno with a lot more time to master his abilities and skills that concerned everyday life things instead of combat, and it was honestly a welcome change. When the breakfast was prepared and done, he abandoned it at the stove and decided to make the table instead, taking three plates instead of the usual two.

When Techno’s work was done, he slipped back into his armchair in the living room with a sigh, returning his gaze to the duck hybrid sleeping on his couch. It seemed like he was stirring a bit, probably from the noise that had come from the kitchen. Even if he was on his way to wake up, Techno saw no point in rushing him, deciding that it was better to let him rest out for as long as possible.

“As long as possible” turned out to be not that long, because only after about 15 minutes more, a very groggy looking Quackity sat up on the sofa, rubbing his eyes and staring blearily around the room. The spare comforter he had been given was shrugged up high around himself, turning towards the fire with a hum.

It felt weird for Techno to just stare, so he decided to break the silence. “Mornin’. Breakfast is ready when you are.” To his surprise, Quackity didn’t turn towards him with surprise, but only nodded and hummed out a little thank you. Apparently Quackity had registered his presence or didn’t care that he was there. He didn’t know what to make of it, but hopefully it could be counted as a good thing.

Next in his mental to do list would be for Techno to go tell Philza about breakfast, but something kept him in his seat in the company of the smaller man. He had had all night to think about how to actually help him instead of hovering around awkwardly like he did last night.

“Tell me if you need anythin’, alright? And tell us how we can help, uh, if something happens.” Despite having had so long to figure it out, he still felt awkward offering his support. But Quackity didn’t seem to mind, and actually smiled a bit at his words, even if his eyebrows scrunched together before that.

He seemed to hesitate before answering. “Thanks, Techno. For that and- and yesterday. Last night,” he corrected. The small puffy yellow wings attached to his back fluttered and ruffled a tiny bit. The sight was still strange, but Techno was growing used to it by the minute.

“’S alright, really.” The taller sat still in his chair, looking over Quackity and thinking for himself. It was good that he felt comfortable enough to keep his wings out now, but would he go back to hiding them after leaving the two? Really, he had no idea why Quackity was afraid of the citizens of L’Manberg seeing his wings. He was the vice president for a while, and generally liked, if maybe not resented for being a bit… testing at times. But none of that felt like it was warranted this level of fear. Probably it had something to do with Schlatt, but he was gone. Techno would like it if Quackity actually decided to take care of himself, but he nor Philza could force him to do so, or force him to stay with them so they could make sure he did, even if it was tempting.

Coming nowhere by thinking in circles, he heaved a sigh and forced himself up from his seat, walking over to the ladder to alert Phil that breakfast had been made. Meanwhile, Quackity stayed on the sofa and only seemed to get more comfortable instead of standing up.

He knocked on Philza’s door gingerly, opening it up before getting a response. He knew his friend well enough to know that he’d be awake by now, probably working on something unimportant unless stated otherwise. “There’s breakfast downstairs,” was all he said. Phil chirped out a response and wrapped up whatever he was working on, following Techno downstairs.

When he got down, he was greeted by a very sleepy looking Quackity who had traversed the cottage wrapped in a blanket, hair a mess, sitting by the table half asleep. Techno just stared at him for a second.

“Put your beanie back on, I feel like I’m violatin’ you or somethin’.”

All he got in response for a second was a hum, but then the words seem to catch up with the other. Quickly he shoved his head inside of the blanket with a yell, energy suddenly back from out of nowhere. “Asshole! You should’ve told me earlier, jesus fuck man!” It was hard to see, but if Techno squinted, he could barely manage to see the face that was hidden by the blanket now, and he looked furious. It only served to make him laugh.

“THAT’S NOT FUNNY!” The duck hybrid shrieked again, scrambling and slipping around searching frantically for his beanie, almost like his life depended on it. It only got worse when the bright chime of Phil’s laughter joined in, making Quackity hurry even more.

“Dear lord, mate. We don’t care that much,” Phil reassured between wheezes, hugging his abdomen in hopes of calming down. Quackity shook his head, which in turn made the whole blanket move. It looked ridiculous to put it simply.

Finally, when Quackity found his beanie, he dropped the blanket to point accusingly at Techno with a fervour he hadn’t had in a long time. “You,” he said threateningly, which probably would have had some sort of effect on someone else that wasn’t Techno. “Fucken- whatever! Whatever man!” He huffed and his wings flared up, almost comically. They looked more cartoonish compared to Philza’s, Techno had noted. Philza’s sleek dark grey, almost purple feathers reached his ankles and looked streamlined and perfect for flight. Quackity’s were small, reaching to a little above his hips. The golden yellow colour was nice and warm, and couple that with the fact that they were almost a bit fluffy due to the downy feathers, it made him look not very intimidating to say the least. But in no way were they ugly. They looked happy, in a weird sort of way. They fit Quackity’s personality.

Said hybrid just sat down at the table, looking extremely peeved, and the other two followed suit. Despite Quackity’s insistence on making it very clear that he was upset while still eating and the occasional chuckle from Phil or Techno, breakfast went well.

“Quack, how are your wings?” Phil kept using the nickname for some reason, which made Quackity groan loudly and forced Techno to bite down a laugh. The question still stood, however, and Phil showed real interest in his answer.

“You forgot the -ity,” he said sternly, staring at Phil for a solid while, chewing his bread with intent. Then he seemed to give up when the man only kept smiling at him. “Fine, I guess.” Carefully, he tried to stretch out his wings and flap them a tiny bit, wincing when it strained and sent pain down his back. Everyone noticed.

“Well- small setback,” Quackity chuckled out, rubbing the back of his neck humorously. Now Techno knew Quackity wasn’t dumb- quite the opposite. He was smart and could easily gather people under him, getting along with almost everyone somehow. But one thing Techno didn’t quite know yet was if Quackity knew how his wings worked or how to take care of them, because he sure acted like he didn’t. For both of Techno and Phil, it was obvious that the wings needed more than just a preen and some rest, but it didn’t seem that the duck hybrid had thought the same.

Phil sucked in a breath but kept his friendly smile. “Yeah, you’re gonna need a bit more rest, bud. You’ve been keeping those things confined for god knows how long.” He laughed again despite the serious topic, in only a way Phil can. It didn’t feel demeaning or inappropriate, just friendly and casual. Techno coupled the sound with safety at this point.

Quackity put an elbow on the table and held his head in his hand, looking at Phil with a bit of an exasperated look. “It’s fine, I just need them to not hurt. It doesn’t matter that much.” A look of confusion passed over the eldest face, and Quackity seemed to almost regret what he said.

“You can’t fly with them like that, though,” was all he said. His blond eyebrows were knit together in a familiar expression of worry, voice thick with it as well.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m telling you!” Quackity screwed around uncomfortably in his chair, obviously getting a bit worked up. Instead of holding his head in his hand, the hand flew up to tuck away a few spare hairs and pinch the bridge of his nose. It didn’t seem like Phil was going to give up, however.

“Of course it fucking matters, Quackity,” he said, voice growing more urgent when the other wouldn’t listen to him. “If you can’t fly you won’t use the muscle enough, and you’ll just be back where you started!” Phil leaned over the table, gesturing with his hands over the table. Even if his voice was a bit louder, he didn’t sound upset with the duck hybrid.

Something in Quackity snapped. “I can’t fucking fly, okay?! I never could have, so I don’t know why you’d want to worry about it now!” The words tumbled out of his mouth, ripped their way from out of him before he could process what he was doing, and even if he did know what he was getting himself into, he didn’t know if he wanted to stop. The feelings that have been tucked away for so long finally had found an outlet, even if it was misdirected.

“Why do you care?! Does- do you think I could fly? Look at me! Look at my wings!” As to prove a point, he stretched them out, gritting his teeth through the pain of doing so. “They’re so small, I’m about as aerodynamic as a rock, Phil!” Frustrated tears threatened to well from Quackity’s glistening eyes, and Techno could almost hear Phil’s heart break with how open and empathetic the guy was. Quackity didn’t notice, however. “I don’t need you to pity me, try to give me hope- I-“ he choked on the words, halting himself in his rant.

The words hit Phil and Techno in the gut, leaving both of them gaping and grasping for some type of understanding. Techno’s gaze flickered between the two; Quackity looking regretful almost, tears threating to spill, and Phil… Phil looked shell shocked. It looked as he expected it to be a joke for a second, but when Quackity’s serious face remained, Phil’s demeanour changed. The realisation set in and left him looking sad. Angry, even.

Before Phil could manage to utter out something, Quackity cut him off with a “whatever man,” pushing himself up from the table, abandoning his breakfast in favour of storming off to wherever. He left a stunned Techno and Phil to simmer in the silence that the outbreak had left in its wake.

Chapter Text

Quackity stormed away from the table with nothing in mind, his thoughts scrambling and rattling around in his head. He hadn’t meant to explode on them, but a bad night’s sleep and aching pain totalled up to give him less than a chipper attitude. Without thinking too hard, he had snatched a coat- he didn’t care whose, and marched out into the snow.

The snow was more unforgiving than Quackity imagined. In less than a few minutes, his body was shaking, and his teeth were clattering. He weighed over his options for a second. He knew there was a village somewhere nearby, but he also didn’t know where, and walking around without direction in a tundra wasn’t a good idea. But it was also lame to walk into the house after throwing such a fit. Instead, he settled for sitting on the staircase, just like he did when he first arrived.

Sitting at the staircase was kind of peaceful, even. The snowstorm that had raged the last couple of days had slowed down, instead being replaced by gentle but steady and heavy snowfall. It wasn’t often that Quackity was where it snowed, so he found himself staring at it blankly as his thoughts lulled in his head. The anger slowly slipped away from his grip, leaving only something akin to regret in its wake.

He passed the time by engrossing himself in his thoughts, alone on the snowy porch. His thoughts took him far away as the gentle snowflakes fell onto the man and his surroundings.

—

Phil hadn’t meant to push, he really hadn’t. He was just concerned, that was all. It was obvious that Quackity hasn’t taken care of his wings correctly in a long time, and he did ask for help, so that’s what Philza wanted to do. But it seemed there was more to address than just simple wing care.

The words that had been left hanging in the air were still being processed long after Quackity had stormed away. He had dropped a bombshell of information on them and left before witnessing the destruction. Hesitantly, Phil looked up to meet Techno’s gaze.

Techno was never very open with his emotions, but even despite that you could see the shock adorning his face, his eyes wider than usual and mouth just a tiny bit agape. He looked how Phil felt.

Phil grappled with trying to find something to say, but he found no words that fit. In no world would Phil have placed Quackity to be the insecure type. Sure, they hadn’t interacted a lot, but every time he saw the younger he was goofing off with others, coaxing laughs out of his friends. But he would also never place Quackity to be the type to have wings, so there was obviously much more to learn.

The words started to set in, and the bigger picture that accompanied worried Phil even more. Since when had he gotten so concerned over the ex-vice president of the country he destroyed? He had to snap himself out of his thoughts and gather them to the best of his ability. He then returned his gaze to Techno, who at this point looked a bit concededly at him.

“I’m- fine, Techno, don’t worry. Just shocked.” Techno nodded and let out a gruff noise.

“Shocked is an understatement,” was all Techno said in response after that, leaning back in his chair and tilting his head back. Phil knew things could be exhausting for Techno, so he made sure to show his appreciation by giving him a pat on the shoulder as he got up.

Phil lingered around the table for a while, procrastinating on walking out into the cold. “I’ll check up on him. Hopefully he won’t have gone too far. You can stay here.” That was the last thing he said before making his way to the front door, dressing appropriately for the cold weather outside. He heard another monotone mumble of “good luck” from Techno back in the kitchen before he stepped outside.

To his surprise, he didn’t need to walk far to find other. Quackity sat huddled up on the stairs in what seemed to be one of his spare jackets held close, and Phil was glad that he had thought about the cold before storming out. It didn’t seem like the younger man had noticed him though, so he gently padded over to sit next to him.

“Hey, Quackity,” he uttered, wondering if it was a bad idea to use the nickname in their current situation as he sat down next to him. Quackity looked up and nodded at Phil before settling his gaze on his own lap. His hands were slightly covered by the sleeves of the borrowed jacket, probably in hopes of keeping them warm. Phil sat and thought out his next words carefully.

He sighed and braced himself for the coming conversation. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it seem like I was mad at you- I’m not,” he said in a soft tone, glancing over at the other as he spoke, carefully continuing. “I just get concerned. I want to see you get better since you asked for help. I want to make sure you get that help.” Phil tentatively placed a hand on Quackity’s shoulder, and he seemed to be alright with it.

The answer delayed for a long while. It seemed like Quackity was choosing his words very carefully. His dark eyes flickered around, meeting Phil’s for a few seconds before retreating back. “I didn’t mean to snap, I’m sorry. I’m the one who asked for help it’s just-“ he caught himself before he continued, biting down his words with hesitation. It made Phil want to shake him, tell him that it was okay to talk to them and that it was okay to ask them for help, but he knew for a fact that that didn’t work and would only make things worse.

Instead he sat patiently, waiting for the duck hybrids response. Without much of a thought, he had stretched his wings out to encircle them both, helping to shield away the tiniest bit of cold. It was more for a sense of protection, he guessed, and he hoped it made Quackity feel that way. When Quackity seemed to relax just a tiny bit, Phil took it as a huge win, a smile growing on his face which he tried to keep to himself.

“I- I can’t fly, Phil.” The smile that had been growing bit by bit suddenly evaporated, despite the freezing temperature outside.

“Of course you can? You’ll need some rehab but it’s nothing that time won’t fix.” He couldn’t help the concern that seeped into his voice second by second, growing ever more worried about Quackity’s repeated sentiment. It must’ve been bad if he thought he would be flightless, which probably explained why he had come to Phil for help, but it was also strange that someone with as much pride as Quackity would reach out for help and expose something so personal when he knew it would end the same, no matter what. A gruesome idea, that maybe it was the unbearable pain was what drove him to seek help popped into his head, and even if it was the most likely explanation, Phil didn’t like entertaining the idea for any longer than a second.

Quackity kept glaring anywhere except at Phil as he spoke up again, looking hesitant. “I never- I never learnt how to,” came the slow, small response. Phil might’ve laughed, thinking it was a joke in any situation, or simply because he couldn’t process it, but all he did was stay silent. Out of all possibilities and answers that Phil had predicted in his head, none of them were even close to this.

“They just kind of assumed I couldn’t when they saw my wings as a kid, so they didn’t bother trying to spend time teaching me.” Quackity heaved a breath before continuing. “I don’t doubt it either, it’s kinda obvious.” A chuckle that seemed so out of character for the usually bright man left his lips, and it made Phil’s heart tear a little. Phil studied the duck hybrids face, not finding a trace of any bitter resentment or anger that he wished he’d find. Quackity looked resigned, at peace with what he had been told was the truth, which only worsened Phil’s unease.

Hesitantly, Phil reached out a hand towards Quackity. Was he overstepping? Would this even be a good idea? Pushing some of his worries aside, he slowly kept reaching towards Quackity until he was enveloped in a warm hug, encircled by large dark wings. One of Phil’s hands were placed on the back of the other’s head, the other on his back, but gently so as to not agitate his still fragile wings. And again, Phil took it as a small victory when the other stayed there, albeit a little awkwardly, but slowly, slowly warming up despite the snow.

“Quackity, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, that’s- jesus fuck,” he muttered, trying to process his own words. “Those people were horribly wrong. You’re more than this.”

Quackity sat still, slightly leaned onto the older man, only half nodding at the words that were sent his way. It was painfully obvious that the words bounced right off him, not being able to crush the image that had been built up in Quackity’s head for such a very long time.

But Phil would be there, and he would repeat it however many times he needed to if it meant that Quackity gained the actual confidence that he obviously pretended he had. Because if anything, it is what he deserved.

Chapter Text

As he waited, Technoblade had mulled over the conversation and happenings of breakfast, thinking about the logistics behind it. He did know a bit about avian hybrids, all he had learned coming from Phil, but he was still a bit unsure. He had never heard about an avian that couldn’t fly, but he didn’t know enough to rule out the possibility completely. With a groan the piglin hybrid went to hold his head in his hands. He was forever grateful for Phil taking care of the emotionally charged situations that he couldn’t grasp quite as well, and yet- he felt strange. The urge to help that had been growing over Quackity’s stay was hard to push down. It should be completely illogical for him to help his enemy, but when it was so easy for him to relate to him it became harder and harder to not want to do something.

He heaved a sigh again and leaned his head downwards, looking at the table as he let his mind wander. Time slipped away from his mind as other, more important thing occupied the vacant space. The voices kept insisting things like usual, spitting things such as “technohelp” and “technosoft” out at him. All he would give them for a response was a huff and a grunt, hoping it relayed his annoyance with them.

When Quackity entered the house again, it was in succession with Phil who had a comforting grip around his shoulder. Techno peeked up at the two as they entered and noticed Philza’s almost mellow but satisfied smile. He really didn’t know what to make of it, as Quackity stayed silent and more neutral than he’s ever seen him. Techno already knew his old friend was worried, but it seemed as if he was pushing it down to help.

“Techno, can you check the fire?” Phil turned towards him but kept his hand on the black haired man’s shoulder, patting it every now and then. Techno didn’t need more prompting than that, and with a nod he rose to check the fire.

He had lit it early that morning, when Quackity first had woken up, but all that remained now were a few crackling embers. Without much care or thought, he crouched down and chucked some firewood into the hearth and grabbing the fireplace bellow. He squeezed the two handles of the contraption which sent air flowing into the fire, breathing life into the almost dead cinders. From his place on the floor, he could hear Phil shuffling around and making small talk with Quackity. It was comforting.

“Let’s preen your wings then, yeah?” His voice was distant but Techno could hear the positive tone from far away. “We don’t want your wings to mess up even more again, so it’s better when you do it regularly. It isn’t supposed to hurt, and it doesn’t if you do it more often.” He couldn’t hear the other respond, so he’d guessed he nodded or something along the lines of that.

Soon, he didn’t have to guess as they both entered the living room. Phil proceeded to pull out a sheep skin, putting the fluffy side up close to the hearth and patting it, signalling for Quackity to sit down.

Covering up his nervousity, Quackity plopped down with his legs crossed, leaned forwards towards the warmth of the fire. Following not long after, Phil sat down behind him on his knees. Very carefully, Phil took Quackity’s wings in his hands, looking for any sign of pain from the other. It was quite obvious he was trying to play it down, Techno thought, and Phil seemed to think the same.

“Just tell me if it hurts, Quack. It has to hurt a bit, but it’ll get better soon, alright?” The pain seemed to be forgotten for a second as the younger bristled at the nickname, wings flaring up only for him to flinch. Phil laughed a little bit but tried to soothe him as well.

“I’ll be fine as long as you don’t call be that stupid nickname,” he gritted out, looking extremely grumpy again.

Phil seemed to ponder the demand for a second as if it was a request, and a small mischievous grin appeared. “Fine, Quacky. Just tell me if it hurts.

The duck hybrid gaped even more at Phil. “You’re literally just missing two letters now, it’s not that hard! Add the -ty!” He only laughed as he ignored it, deciding to put his focus on caring for the others wings with steady hands. Quackity kept chattering in a dissatisfied tone, and suddenly everything felt a bit more normal.

Techno just watched as Phil preened the young man’s wings, earning an occasional twitch or whimper. It was something he found himself doing more the last two days- just standing and watching.

Phil started speaking in a calm tone as he kept up his steady work. “I really think you’re able to fly, Quack. Winged people come in all shapes and sizes and species. It might not look like someone with fragile bug wings can fly, but they still can somehow. So I doubt you’re an exception.” His words were gentle and non-intrusive, easy to comprehend.

It was funny to see how Quackity almost buffered to figure out an answer. Finally, something clicked in his head, and the mischievous grin that adorned Phil’s face a while ago had flicked over to the younger.

“So you’re saying size doesn’t matter?”

Techno couldn’t help but snort, letting out a laugh at the masterful reply. Phil tried desperately to hold on to his serious tone, but he also relinquished to the laughter that rose. When both of them laughed, the duck hybrid seemed to be disproportionally proud.

“Phil finally tells you some good news, and you decide to make an innuendo out of it?” Techno finally spoke up and snorted once again from where he stood a bit away. “Sound plan.” The usual sarcasm that filled his words made a strong return, earning a chuckle from Quackity himself.

He grinned again, faking an incredulous face. “That’s what he said! It’s exactly what he said, don’t deny it!”

“But don’t you think it’s more important that you just learned that you can- you know, fly? I think that would be priority number one,” the tallest hybrid drawled out, but he regretted it a bit. The comedic air suddenly went away as Quackity’s face dropped. His eyebrows knit together closer than usual, lips pressing into a fine line. Techno felt like he almost fucked up, but it was a genuine question. Humour is a good coping mechanism and all, but it was still a serious topic.

Quackity just shrugged as much as he could as his wings were being groomed. “I mean, yeah. That’s- but I still don’t know how to, even if I physically am able.” He dared a look over at Techno, then glancing at Phil. “Isn’t there like a saying for teaching old dogs’ new tricks?”

At that, Techno couldn’t help but laugh a bit, which made the duck hybrid look confused. “Listen. If you’re old, Philza’s ancient. I doubt it’s impossible for you to start flapping your wings and take off,” he grunted out when his laughter had died down. He knew there was more to flying than just “flapping your wings,” but he ignored that in hopes of somehow cheering Quackity up, who looked a bit offended. It only served to make him laugh again.

“Hey! I’m not fucking stupid, it’s more complicated than that!” He partially twisted around to face Techno, waving a hand in the air. He flinched when Phil had to let go of his wings unexpectedly, the older not expecting the sudden movement.

Techno stopped laughing to level a stare at Quackity. “Why are you arguing for your own incompetence? That seems rather stupid.” Really, how was he not supposed to laugh when the other was being so over dramatic. But it seemed alright, since a smile was creeping onto Quackity’s face as well.

“I’m not! I’m trying to make a pig understand flying, when’s the last time you’ve seen a pig fly?!” The joking tone that he usually had was seeping back into his voice. A few chuckles punctuated his sentence too, which was relieving.

“Boys,” Phil interrupted a bit sternly, looking between the two. “I appreciate it, but I’m only halfway done with your wings, Quacky.” Despite being the “responsible” one, Phil couldn’t help but get a subtle jab in, which Techno noticed and appreciated.

Techno relented, deciding to instead sit on the couch and watch the two as they continued the process. When Quackity had stopped arguing about the name and Phil had settled back into the routine work, it looked peaceful almost. The crackling fire only added to the atmosphere. It seemed as if Quackity agreed, because Techno noticed how he was growing more lax by the second, leaning a bit into the touch as time went on. Most of the dirty work had been done by that time, Phil only running his hands through the wings to soothe, at least that was Techno’s theory.  

Instead of carding his hands through the feathers, Philza went to almost pet them. “I’m about to try to move your wings, alright?” His words were still soft and gentle, and the grip he had on the wing was very light.

Quackity seemed nervous, some of the relaxation from before slipping from his face, but he nodded.

“Alright then, just tell me to stop at any time.” Phil held the wing like Quackity was made out of glass, something so gentle that would break if you breathed at it wrong. And maybe in another situation, Quackity would have complained about being treated as such, but he seemed strangely accepting of the treatment. It even seemed as if he kind of appreciated it.

Slowly and steadily, Phil moved Quackity’s wings to stretch them out, holding them all the while. All that could be heard was a hiss of pain from the latter, and constant of comforting, reassuring words from the former. When the golden wing was stretched a bit too far, a yelp filled the room which prompted Phil to stop, replacing the testing touch with a placating motion of petting the wings.

Phil kept his comforting up for a second before speaking out. “You doing alright? I know it fucking sucks, but this is better than the alternatives- hell, it's really the only alternative.” His hands never stopped moving, now running down the feathers. The wings looked a lot better compared to when he first arrived, but not completely right. All though the bloodstain from whatever it was was gone, and the bone didn't jut at an distressing angle, some feathers still lay awkwardly overlapped and messy.

“Yeah, it’s cool.” It was very easy for Techno to tell it was indeed not cool, but he stayed silent and just watched. At least it was better that Quackity was willing to grit through it and act tough instead of refusing the help. Phil didn’t seem to think the same way, however, as a dissatisfied look passed over his face.

“It’s okay for you to be honest. I don’t want to overwork you, this is a slow process and if you try to speed-run it like an idiot it’ll just end up with you hurt,” he explained to the younger avian, who just grumbled and crossed his arms.

He mulled it over, groaned and tugged on his beanie. “Fine, but don’t think I’m some kind of pussy.”

Phil looked almost overjoyed, a weird response to someone who just spat out a profanity. Instead of responding, he went over to the other wing with the same gentle grip, starting to stretch it out tiny bit by bit.

A small time of silence passed where Quackity was biting down on his hand, gauging himself and his own pain tolerance. As Phil kept on, he looked to get almost a bit concerned with how long the other went without protest, deciding to drop his wing voluntarily. When it was released, Quackity finally took a greedy gulp of air that he hadn’t noticed he needed.

“Alright then, Quack. Try to spread your wings just a bit. If it hurts, don’t keep pushing.” Phil’s instructions were grounding even for Techno. He just had knack for things such as that, helping people stay focused or calm.

Quackity nodded, wings fluttering for a second before he carefully and slowly spread them out. He didn’t get far before they twitched and retracted a tiny bit, seeming to find their limits. “That’s it,” he said, keeping his wings in a steady position. “If I go any further it hurts,” he continued to clarify. Really, he didn’t reach far at all, barely about a quarter the way there.

The more time Techno spent thinking on it, the more he wished he didn’t. He knew that Quackity had been on this SMP longer than him, but he still hadn’t heard of anyone knowing about the mans hybrid status. It was an agreed upon fact that Phil was the first and only avian of Dream SMP. For how long had this been going on?

“That’s great, Quack. This is day one, there’s not much to expect.” Almost automatically, Phil’s hands moved to keep caressing the fragile yellow wings, returning to the lull of contentment to the duck hybrid. Quackity subconsciously leaned towards it, relishing in the solace that it brought.

There the trio sat, one supporting the other with the third sitting a bit away, appreciating the company that he hadn’t noticed he’d needed.

Chapter Text

Quackity would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy when Philza helped him preen. Or partly.

It turns out neglecting your wings months on end was not the best idea and did in fact have its consequences. One of them being feathers being squashed and misplaced, irritating the fragile skin around them. But left for even longer, the feathers would just stay like that, growing used to the strange new state they were in, so resetting each one was painful enough.

But when he got past the setting and resetting, and Phil just decided to play with his wings, it was a new sense of relief that washed over him. Rarely had his wings been addressed in such a gentle and caring manner. He couldn’t help but relax into it. It was obvious that Phil dragged it out too, taking extra time to make sure everything ended on a nice note. 

When Phil pulled away and gave him the praise that was slowly becoming the new norm, he found himself missing it but also feeling lighter than before. And so he stood up, slight bounce returned to his step.

Taking in the room around him, he noticed Techno who he hadn’t even crossed his mind before. He scoffed and decided that there was no better time to mess with someone than all the time.

“Yeah, bet you’re feelin’ real excluded now, pig-boy!” He taunted the other, loud abrasive laugh filling the air. It came more naturally than it had for the last weeks.

Techno settled to scoff at him for a response, which made Quackity’s face drop. “Yeah, I’m sooo sad I don’t have to sit on the floor with you guys.” Even when emphasising words his voice was monotone. Quackity was however learning to pick up humour from the other hybrid, and it was starting to become not obvious, but a bit clearer when he was joking.

Phil seemed to enjoy the banter, laughing along at the other two’s antics. “Techno actually knows a bit about wing care. I taught him.” The man in question nodded along with a self-satisfied smile on his face. But Quackity would die on this hill.

“Well at least we two can fl-“ before he could even finish the sentence, the words caught up with him. Oh. That was a lie, wasn’t it? He froze, slightly panicking on the inside with trying to find a save for his blunder. No words came to mind, so instead he just cleared his throat awkwardly.

When he caught eye contact with Phil, the other man seemed sad. A strained look had appeared on his face. The empathy that Phil felt for him, the sadness over him, felt out of place. Quackity really didn’t know what to make of it. It was weird to see people react so strongly to something so normal. It wasn’t normal.

Quackity hoped it wasn’t too obvious that he couldn’t recover when Phil swooped in to save him. “What I meant is, Tech doesn’t have to feel left out!” It was a measly attempt to save the conversation, but it was appreciated none the less. “Maybe he can even help you if I’m not around, who knows.”

Both involved parts in the hypothetical situation stared at Phil at that. Seriously, Quackity had hunted down this man with an axe, been killed by him twice and scarred. The sentiment was sweet, but expecting that much might be a tad too much. And even if Quackity could entertain the idea for a second, maybe even consider it, it all would crumble when Techno had to do his part. Quackity was sure the piglin hybrid hated him down to his very rotten core.

That’s why it was a shock to him when Technoblade just shrugged. “If you need me to, sure.” Quackity just stared at him, quite literally looking like he would keel over from shock at any moment.

“You came here for help, didn’t you? Why would I deny you when you’ve gotten this far,” the other continued. If Quackity wasn’t insane, he might’ve said that Techno had shrunk a bit under his incredulous glare. “Stop staring, I’m being nice.”

He shook his head to try and regain his thoughts. Why would Techno of all people be willing to help him? Philza he understood, the guy practically radiated parental energy and couldn’t seem to hinder himself from taking on some sort of responsibility in every situation ever. But the blood god? The man who didn’t seem to spare a single soul, not even someone as kind as Tubbo? It was such a difference it almost made him dizzy. He was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts when a familiar hand landed on his shoulder.

“Like he said, we’re here to help, and that includes him.” Quackity looked at Phil. Despite how much it seemed to make an appearance, the duck hybrid still couldn’t decipher the emotional look on the other avian’s face. “I get if you’re not comfortable with it, but it’s an option.” He nodded again, daring to glance at Techno.

Something in the man’s cold and bored façade had fallen, leaving just a smidgen of emotion clear on display. Quackity decided to look away from him instead of speculating about it.

“Yeah, thanks. Just thought you of all people would rather- whatever.” He cut himself off before he could blunder with his words and make another mistake again. The small detail didn’t go unnoticed by either of them, his hesitance clear as day. Either way, he pretended like it wasn’t.

Phil spared him from the conversation topic, moving his hand to pet the shoulder it still rested on. “I’m sure you’re still exhausted, but if you want to help Techno to gather some materials you can tag along!” Quackity considered shrugging Phil off, but it felt nice.

“Me? Tired? Big Q is always on the grind, baby!” As he jumped up a tiny bit to show his energy, Phil’s lips pressed into a thin line. And despite his attempts to lighten the mood, Quackity quickly grew nervous. Had he said something wrong? Instead he fronted with a chuckle, only pulling in on himself a bit. “What- what? I’m about to pop off, getting materials ‘n shit!”

“It’s been a long day,” Phil said, not delving into specifics. All three of them knew what he meant either way. “I just don’t want you to overwork yourself, alright?”

Quackity shuffled and groaned. “Come on old man, I need to get out and do something! That’ll be good for me, right?” The “nickname” made Phil let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh, but he seemed to be thinking over what the other had said.

After what felt like minutes of watching the blond man think (seriously, does your brain slow down when you get older?) he came up with an answer. “Fine, but you shouldn’t pressure yourself. And don’t get hurt.” Quackity put his hands in the air in a victorious pose at that. Some anxiety still lingered, but almost all of it had slipped away when he had realised that Phil wasn’t mad at him. A brief thought of when did I start worrying about that? popped up in his mind, but he buried it for later.

“Let’s go!” Quackity celebrated with a small victory dance and witnessed as Techno’s sanity seemed to vaporize which only made him holler. “Dude, you’ll be making so much progress with me around.”

Techno only grunted at him and made his way to the door, already pulling on his boots as an escape tactic. Phil also left Quackity alone in favour of finding him some suited clothes for the weather. When he returned, he carried another thick knitted sweater that was even larger than the one he had gotten before and a pair of warm looking pants. They were promptly shoved into his hands, Phil telling him to put it on, tossing on an extra pair of knitted socks for good measure. He balanced the pile of old clothes and scampered away to the bathroom.

Once again, Phil had made some roughly cut holes in the shirt for Quackity. It was nice of him to think so far ahead, and it filled his chest warmth. When he pulled it over his head, the first thing he noticed was how itchy it was, but still somehow cozy. That being said, the second thing he noticed was how much larger and thicker it was compared to the one he had borrowed earlier. The pants fit relatively well, only needing a belt to make extra sure they would stay up. He’d guess they were Philza’s.

His suspicions were confirmed when he returned to the other two, Techno eyeing him for a second, then looking at Phil. “You couldn’t have cut holes in your own shirt?” So it was Techno’s shirt.

“I have never once seen you wear that sweater, I wear all my stuff,” Phil bounced back at him defensively. Then he looked over to give the duck hybrid a reassuring smile.

Techno grumbled again. “Yeah, because it’s itchy, but still…” The words were barely loud enough to hear, but Quackity picked up on it either way. He didn’t care too much though, the shirt would be revenge for killing him twice. His focus was shifted towards lacing up a pair of boots, again, they were Philza’s and fitted surprisingly well.

The spare jacket from before hung on one of the hooks, and without asking Quackity started putting it on and then turned towards Techno, who had gotten ready a while ago and was more intent on checking his tools than anything. “Alright then, bacon. Let’s go!”

Techno rolled his eyes at the comment but started walking towards the door nonetheless, giving Phil a little goodbye as the two left.

—

When they had reached the forest where they were supposed to gather the materials, the sun had dropped a bit lower on the sky.

“Gather some extra wood. If you find any sort of food- sheep, cows, mushrooms, get it. We’ll also need some wool so we can get you your own clothes.” The last part was accompanied by a little bitter glare.

Quackity waved his hand impatiently at Techno’s instructions. “Yeah yeah, whatever! Let’s just get going,” he said as he pushed in front of Techno, walking towards the forest. He could hear another signature grunt from behind him, persuading him to turn around.

“Did you even bring tools?” The question pissed Quackity off a bit. Did I have tools when you found me quivering on your doorstep? Words were threatening to spill out of his mouth, and not trusting himself, he just shook his head instead. This caused Techno to pull out some spare iron tools from his inventory, handing an axe, a sword, and a pair of shears to the other.

“I doubt you’ll need the sword, but just in case if we’re here until it gets dark.”

When Quackity accepted the offerings, his hand lingered on the axe shaft. Memories came flooding as he held the tool and saw Techno, and he wished he could stop it. He was angry at Techno, yes, but now when they were in the position that they were in… Things became more complicated. Instead of the hot anger that should fill him, he felt something more akin to guilt spilling in his chest. Whatever it was he supposed processing could wait.

As the pair started collecting wood, no words were spoken between the two. It was relieving to have a task to focus on, and it quelled some of the thoughts that usually swirled around constantly.

The peace was broken after maybe 30 minutes of working.

“Quackity, I just want to let you know that uh, I’m glad you came for help.” Techno had stopped swinging the axe that he had been steadily chopping trees with, turning most of his attention towards the shorter hybrid. His tusks jut out awkwardly as his lips pressed into a thin line, contemplating his words carefully. “I- I do want to help, but you’ll have to tell me how to. If that’s something you want me to do, of course.”

The sun that had been steadily setting now filtered through the trees, casting a golden glow on their surroundings. It reflected off the snow beautifully, small crystals from the cold reflecting the light, making it look like the ground was glittering. Techno’s shadow was long and skinny, reaching towards Quackity. It felt like Quackity had been told those words so much recently, but this was different. Finally, something clicked in his head. Maybe it was the constant reassurance, or maybe it was seeing Technoblade act so out of character, but the realisation had set it, and it left Quackity’s mouth dry.

“I- yeah.” He turned to look through the forest, rays of sunshine weaving through the trees to reach the forest floor. Silence felt like enough of an answer for the time being, so with another nod he went back to foraging, Techno always staying somewhat close if something were to happen. Phil had been clear about him not wanting them to go too far away from each other, but Quackity thought the other was taking his request a bit too seriously.

After another long stretch of silence, Quackity’s mouth decided to move on its own. “I thought you hated me.” His hands held the mushrooms he had been picking close, as if interrupting the silence would make them disappear.

Techno glanced over and huffed some sort of laugh if Quackity were to guess. “I’m in retirement, can’t be bothered to hold grudges for too long. Besides, I don’t know the whole story.” It wasn’t something that had occurred to Quackity; that maybe the blood god was taking his side of the story into consideration.

When Quackity moved a hand up to his face, he noticed that wet tear tracks decorated his cheeks. He wiped it off a bit, still focusing on finding mushrooms despite the fact that he as pretty much sat at the same spot he had been in for a good ten minutes.

“I miss Schlatt. He was an asshole. I miss being vice,” he said subconsciously, breaking the tranquility and quiet of the forest that had returned. If you asked him, Quackity couldn’t tell you why he was opening up. “He tore down the white house I built.”

Techno just nodded, humming as well to make sure that Quackity knew he was listening. 

He continued. “When he saw my wings- I didn’t mean to show him, he just barged in on me. He said they were ugly, kinda pushed me away and one of them accidentally snapped. I couldn’t ask anyone for help, either.” A chuckle bubbled up his throat, despite nothing being funny in the situation. “There’s your explanation I guess.”

All sound from the other stopped, no shuffling of footsteps through deep snow, no swings of an axe or even a word. Bird song filled the air between the two instead, beckoning for someone to interrupt.

“Thank you,” was all Techno said in reply, and once again, Quackity could feel quiet tears slip down his face.

Chapter Text

Technoblade was so far out of his comfort zone- he was in the comfort zone, technically.

They had been silently working for a while now, and all Techno could think about was how he should take this moment to say something, do something, literally anything, Techno, come on-

The voices weren’t exactly helping either, barraging him with either support in hopes of raising his self-esteem. That, or they were yelling at him to step up already. He shook his head, a feeble attempt at trying to calm them. He knew it never worked, but it was a habit he had picked up over the years. Awkwardly, he opened his mouth and prepared himself.

“Quackity, I just want to let you know that uh, I’m glad you came for help. I- I do want to help, but you’ll have to tell me how to. If that’s something you want me to do, of course.” In the middle of his sentence, he stopped chopping wood, instead deciding to focus on the conversation. He didn’t dare to look over at the other though, keeping his eyes strained on the snowy ground instead.

It was concerning how long it took for Quackity to respond. The few interactions they had had before this were always quick and filled with chatter on the shorter’s behalf. The quiet stretched on for long enough to make Technoblade start worrying again.

“I- yeah,” came the answer. Short and sweet, and almost depressing. Despite that, some weird sense of pride swelled within Techno’s chest. Finally, he had said what he wanted. Maybe he could’ve said it better, but it was hard for him to even understand what he wanted, so he was proud nonetheless. 

And so they returned to their work, Techno chopping wood and Quackity foraging numbly, looking like he wasn’t really present. Just as Phil instructed, Techno was always close enough to the other if something were to happen, but it was partially from his own worry, he’d have to admit. Soon, they settled back into the new routine, silence laying over them like a comforting blanket.

“I thought you hated me.” The silence was broken by a tiny voice, and Techno looked up. Quackity looked worried, holding something closer than he needed to. It was only then that Techno noticed they had forgotten to give him a pair of gloves.

Techno thought about the words and laughed a bit. He honestly thought the same, and he remembers how upset he’d been when he first noticed the duck on his doorstep, but it didn’t last for long. “I’m in retirement, can’t be bothered to hold grudges for too long. Besides, I don’t know the whole story.” He continued to study his surroundings, feeling surprisingly light, despite the heavy conversation topic. Quackity stayed silent.

“I miss Schlatt. He was an asshole. I miss being vice. He tore down the white house I built.” The light feeling was replaced by a heavy weight in his heart when the words registered in his brain. Emotions clashed like metal against each other, sparking flames inside of him. The watery tone of the other sent alarms ringing in his head, a slow and steady anger simmering at the mention of the name. But he knew that he had to stay calm, and that he held such a fragile sense of trust in his hands at the moment. A low hum left his lips, like a plea for the other to continue.

Quackity seemed to pick up on it. “When he saw my wings- I didn’t mean to show him, he just barged in on me. He said they were ugly, kinda pushed me away and one of them accidentally snapped. I couldn’t ask anyone for help, either.” A sickeningly, sad laugh reverberated through the forest, fuelling Techno’s inner turmoil even more. “There’s your explanation I guess.”

Techno was at a loss for words. He’d never imagine he’d be the one to talk to someone about emotional things, it was like trying to think of a new colour, yet here he was. But the strangest thing is how Quackity had trusted him. “Thank you,” he said in his low, gruff voice, and as he peaked over towards the duck hybrid, he could see a few tears reflecting the golden sunlight, but they were soon wiped away by the slightly too long jacket sleeve. On top of all the emotions he was trying to process, panic started to rise into his throat. Had it been wrong to push? Was it he who made him cry? And for once, the voices reassured him. They murmured words of muted praise and reassurance that buzzed in the back of his skull. So, he let it go, knowing overthinking would only make things worse.

When the sun barely shone over the forest, Techno decided that it was time maybe time for them to head home. Trudging a bit, he found Quackity who had decided to take a break and sit on one of the recently added stumps. “Ready to leave?” he asked, watching as he nodded and got up sluggishly. A small smile played on his lips, but it felt disingenuous.

“Thanks for the massive amounts of help, “Big Q”. Couldn’t have done it without you.” As Techno said his joke, he watched it go from sarcastic to more genuine the longer he talked. Quackity seemed to flicker through emotions, as if almost looking through a register for a good response.

“At least you said Big Q,” was all he grumbled out with a laugh. It was different from the worrying laugh before, still tired, but the smile that accompanied it reached his eyes.

—

Techno opened the front door, towering in the doorway. In contrast, an exhausted and slouching Quackity could be seen “standing” behind him. The piglin hybrid huffed as he walked into the cabin, pulling off his robe and hanging it on its destined hook. He watched as Quackity ignored getting undressed completely, only sauntering towards the couch to crash on it with a groan. The ruckus prompted Phil to peek up from where he had stood in the kitchen.

“How’d it go?” In his hands, he held a large cup of tea, and Techno noted how gross it looked. It was diluted with too much milk; it was barely tea anymore. Once he was finished with shrugging his outerwear off, Techno walked over to the dining table and looked at Phil.

“It went well, I don’t know why he’s being so dramatic.” He scoffed and put his head in one of his hands, deciding to stare over at the smallest hybrid. He looked ridiculous with how he was sprawled on the couch, and Techno would guess Phil agreed with how he chuckled at the sight.

Quackity turned to look at the two with a bleary glare, and Phil put his hands up in defeat. He seemed satisfied with the declaration of defeat, deciding to bury his head in the couch again. “It was so cold, why did you retire in a fucking ice cube? Why not get a summerhouse?”

Phil walked over to where Quackity lay, tugging at the jacket he still wore, coaxing another groan from the youngest. “Beggars can’t be choosers, Quack.” Quackity looked to be made out of putty as Phil pulled the jacket off of him, being held up like a ragdoll.

“This isn’t about me, this is about your stupid reasoning skills,” he continued grumbling, sitting up to pull the boots off. When he was no longer in outerwear, Techno squinted at his shirt with the holes in the back. Really, he barely recognised the sweater, but still. It also drowned the other and made him look malnourished. At least he hoped it made him look like it instead of him looking like that all of the time.

“Phil, I got us some wool so he can get his own clothes.” Quackity whipped around to flip him off, which only earned him a smirk from Techno.

Phil waved a hand towards Techno with a smile. “Thanks, Tech. I’ll look into it tomorrow, yeah?” He went to add some extra firewood into the hearth before sitting back down behind Quackity. “Do you mind making dinner?” Despite how much he liked bickering and bantering, he was never one to deny Philza.

—

Phil watched Quackity lean towards the fire with his eyes closed as he added some extra wood to the fire. His beanie was off center and messed with after the day’s work, and it made Phil smile. He looked quite at home when he snuggled up towards the warmth. The puffy wings were folded and held close to his body.

He walked over to sit behind the other, jostling him a bit. Quackity’s eyes flew open for a second, relaxing when he saw Phil’s friendly smile and turning to face the fire again. Phil’s hands hovered a bit, carefully thinking through his next move.

“Is it alright if I touch your wings, Quack?” The question seemed to catch the man off guard, and he looked hesitant for a second before nodding. Phil beamed another reassuring smile towards him, and just like they did that morning, gentle hands picked up the yellow wings to play with.

It was different from before, though. Phil had no intention of putting him under any sort of strain. He wanted to do something nice for Quackity. Every touch was gentle, his fingers grazing the feathers and separating them, aligning them and petting them. It would seem that it was working, too, because Quackity was leaning towards the contact with his eyes still closed. Sitting at the sofa in that moment felt at peace, the blond man thought.

For a while, it was silent as Phil kept caring for Quackity, only being interrupted every once in a while by the crackle of the fire, or the sounds of Techno cooking in the kitchen. Quackity seemed to be half asleep, or he must’ve been, because he let out a noise that was very reminiscent of a chirp. Actually, the only difference from a chirp and what the younger bird hybrid just let out was that it was mixed with a snore. When the initial shock wore off, Phil smiled so wide he could barely keep his eyes open. He let out a quiet chirp back, only to get another half snore- half chirp back.

The sounds from the kitchen suddenly stopped, and a confused Techno peeked into the living room, looking at the two with a deadpan expression. “He speaks bird?” he half joked. It was obvious that he was shocked despite his strikingly average expression.

The sudden noise pulled Quackity out of his dazed state, finally opening his eyes and bolting to sit up straight, no longer leaning onto Phil. Spluttering was all that he could let out for a solid while, mind drawing a blank when he realised what had happened.

“You- shut- what the fuck?” One of Quackity’s hands went up to cover his mouth, and Phil laughed a bit. It only earned him a glare from the flustered man, who was angrily tugging on his beanie again. “Stop laughing!” He turned to Techno with a new fervour. “You. You probably oink!” Regardless of the warning Quackity gave him, the blond man just kept laughing and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Quack, it’s alright. We’re just shocked,” he explained, rubbing his shoulder in a reassuring matter. The other didn’t seem to find it as comforting as before, however, and he just kept grumbling, cheeks turning a little bit red.

“Yeah, I thought you’d quack or something.” Now he was really red, and Phil couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. Techno only got fuelled by his reaction, letting out barking laughter. “You totally quack, don’t you? God, now we’ll never stop calling you Quack.”

Quackity shrugged Phil off and started to make his way up from the couch, looking like he was about to reassemble the butcher army all over again with how angry he was. Techno looked as unimpressed as ever, only trying to supress his laughter. No words came out, as the shorter of the two just stood and stared very intensely, raising his arm, bringing it down again and turning around for the couch again, face scrunched up. Phil gave him an encouraging pat on the back, not many could try and threaten Techno, and even fewer would even try to square up.

He grumbled for a second, throwing glances at the other two periodically. “I didn’t mean to.”

Phil’s eyebrows knit together, and he stopped to look at the black-haired man. “It’s fine, Quack. Really, we don’t judge you. It was nice to see you so relaxed, actually.”

“You won’t, but he will! My life is terrible,” Quackity half wailed, flopping dramatically onto Phil who wrapped him in an awkward half hug in an attempt and condoling him.

“I won’t,” Techno proceeded to say, and something about it was off to Philza. It was such a curt and sudden answer, a bit tense but very earnest. Usually, Techno could joke around and liked teasing people, but it seemed like he took this with the utmost seriousness. He’d have to ask about that later.

Instead he opted to agree with him, patting Quackity’s shoulder and ushering him up. “See, he won’t. Now let’s eat dinner before you pass out or something.” Responding with a groan, he got up slowly but steadily, dragging himself away from Phil and the couch and heading for the kitchen, Phil in tow. When he passed Techno, Phil gave him a small look, which Techno caught and only shrugged at. Yeah, he’d definitely have to ask about that.

But for now, the three could settle around the dinner table and enjoy each other’s company.

Chapter Text

Dinner was tense, Phil noted. Despite the teasing atmosphere that lingered around the house just a few moments prior, something felt off.

Techno looked tense, almost angry as he ate his food with a vigour that was usually spared for the battlefield. Quackity on the other hand looked like he was knee-deep in regret, eyes wide as he glanced over at the other two occasionally.

What had happened while they were out gathering materials? Maybe Phil had done the wrong thing, sending both of them out. As he interpreted it, it looked as if Quackity was on edge as he sat next to Techno. It never seemed like it before, so the only logical conclusion is that something did indeed happen as they left earlier. For now, Phil just had to play the waiting game as they ate.

Phil and Techno, the permanent residents of the house, were the ones to clean the table once they were done, leaving Quackity to do whatever he wanted, which seemed to be to once again crash on the couch. Temporarily, Phil paused to look at him on the couch, a sad smile spread on his face. He really hoped it was just the exhaustion from the trip earlier, and he guessed it was good for him to rest out. Wing-rehab as he called it could wait until tomorrow. In the corner of his eye, he could see how Techno was also glancing at their guest on the sofa, looking as if he was thinking.

Absentmindedly, the blond man went to make the usual two cups of tea that he and his old friend had, and as time passed by, small snores reverberated from the living area. When he was done, Phil took the two cups and handed one to Techno, then nodded for the other to follow him upstairs to leave the sleeping man alone to rest.

Now the two were finally alone together for the first time in a long time. Phil had sat himself on his bed, and Techno had decided to remain standing, shoulders squared and lips pressed into a fine line. The eldest sighed.

“Tech, I’m not stupid.” Said man’s eyes flickered up to meet Phil’s for but a second. “Something happened while you were out, yeah? You look like you’re going to explode from thinking anytime soon.” He chuckled humourlessly in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Techno crossed his arms, shifting his weight a tiny bit as he thought even more. Seriously, Phil thought steam was going to blow out from his ears if this continued for any longer.

“Schlatt broke Quackity’s wing,” came the curt answer. Techno’s features had hardened as he finally spoke up. “Q told me Schlatt thought they were ugly and just pushed him into the wall when he saw them.” The grip Techno had around his own arms were unnecessarily tight, as if he could ground himself if he squeezed his arms hard enough.

A wave of sadness crashed into Phil. He didn’t know Schlatt, he didn’t even get to talk to the man before he died. All he knew about the man was from things he had been told by others; he knew he was a bad president, and a drunken one at that. But he didn’t know how deep his connection with Quackity ran. Quackity was the vice, he had been told by Techno, so they probably were in contact a lot, but he had always thought they were somehow an alliance. Two people united under their regime. But now that image was being threatened, all because of one small bit of information.

“He said he missed him.” Techno’s words cut through Phil’s thoughts, cutting it off and bringing his focus to the present. The look on the piglin hybrids face was more of an angry and a confused one at this point, and Phil couldn’t help but feel the same.

Phil gently tried to come up with something to say, a thousand thoughts running through his mind at once, and a sick feeling accompanied his thoughts. “They were around each other a lot?” The question sounded measly even to Phil, but he desperately needed any sort of answer.

Techno shrugged. “Pretty sure. Whenever I saw Schlatt, I almost always saw Quackity next to him.” The trace of anger that had always been there now grew to take up the hybrids whole face. “They were always bickering over something stupid, but I didn’t think too much of it.”

Silence fell over the small room, and it prickled like static in Phil’s ears. Who had let a bunch of basically kids run around and create nations? The thoughts and implications that clawed at Phil’s conscious got worse as time passed, and the overwhelming urge to go downstairs and comfort Quackity welled in his chest. Logically he knew it was nothing that could be solved in a day or two, but god he wishes it was.

“Phil, he didn’t even fix his wing because no one knew- he probably just stuffed that thing under his shirt and tried his best. I know I’m not the best being support and that he’s basically the government, but it’s unfair.” Phil gave him a sympathetic glance, noticing how worked up Techno seemed to be.

“Tech, it’s alright. You couldn’t have known and it’s a… complicated situation.” It wasn’t what the other had asked for, but Phil knew he needed to hear those words. “Schlatt is gone, and all we can do now is do our best to pick up the pieces.” Phil took his trademark bucket hat off and ran a hand through his hair in an exasperated manner. No one wanted to be in this situation. Or, correction: no one wanted Quackity to be in this situation.

The piglin seemed to grumble for a second, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “It’s not complicated at all, ‘s just another example of the government taking something good and messin’ it up.” He stopped to look at Phil with an earnest look before leaning back on the wall, taking a deep breath.

“You should get some rest. We can talk in the mornin’,” Techno uttered. Phil would like to argue that he should also rest, but he knew that his situation was more complicated than that. Instead, he settled for a nod and a smile.

Before Technoblade could leave for the downstairs, Phil spoke up again. “Don’t beat yourself up over this, Tech.” His tone was earnest, filled with emotion, but it rolled off his tongue easily. Phil wanted what was best for his friend, and considered him as close as family. He would never take the risk of not uttering his praise or comfort in fear of overstepping; he had learned his lesson a while ago.

With a grunt that Phil recognised as thankful somehow, Techno made his way downstairs. The blond wouldn’t question whatever it was he was going to do. With exhaustion dragging his body down, making his limbs feel as heavy as lead, he walked over to the bed and laid down, events of the day simmering in his head.

—

Downstairs, Technoblade sat in the armchair, reading throughout the night. He stayed there, close to the sleeping hybrid, just in case if something were to happen. Just in case.

Chapter Text

The concerning thing wasn’t that Quackity had a nightmare or something of the sorts, it was the opposite.

For all the hours that Techno had spent at the others side, nothing really happened. Quackity seemed to be out like a light for the entire night, only shuffling in his sleep. Even now when it was around 10am he refused to wake from his heavy slumber. At first, Techno was relieved to see he got his rest, but when both he and Philza were up and about and had waited for a bit too long on their guest to join them for breakfast, the concern started to come back.

“He’s been asleep for like… what, fourteen hours?” For a second it sounded like hyperbole, but Techno knew that Quackity fell asleep around 9pm, and it was now a bit past 10 in the morning. Phil squinted and then proceeded to come to the same conclusion in his head, looking a tiny bit distressed over it.

Nothing more could be said before Phil had stood up, briskly walking over to the sleeping hybrid, patting his arm. The effort earned him a little grunt in response. “Quack, do you wanna wake up?” Phil questioned as he kept shaking the shorter one.

Slowly, bleary eyes opened up to take in their surroundings. Quackity curled up on himself, pulling the comforter closer to himself as he grumbled out an inaudible response to the shaking.

“Quacks, it’s almost evening. Breakfast is waiting for you,” Phil beckoned again, never relenting his attempts to wake the sleeping figure. For a moment, Techno caught his eyes, and all he did was give Phil a puzzled look.

Techno got up himself, slowly walking towards the other two. He stood tall over the couch, glaring down at the lump that was barely moving. When he had gotten closer, he noticed how Phil was holding a few lose yellow feathers, and quite a few more were littering the sofa. Techno frowned to himself. Phil had taught him about avian hybrids a fair bit, but he didn’t really know what to make of this. He turned to Phil, who seemed more relaxed than before.

“I think he’s moulting,” he said to Techno as he collected the feathers. Even with the presented explanation, Techno was still very confused, and it was probably obvious judging from how Phil huffed and smiled at him. “Birds have to pluck unnecessary or broken feathers so new ones can grow out. It’s nothing dangerous or painful, it just takes up lots of energy.” Phil stood up and put his hand on the beanie-clad head that wasn’t covered by the covers, ruffling it and pushing it down. Quackity groaned in response and retreated back under the comforter completely. Seriously, did he sleep in the beanie? Techno hadn’t thought about it during the night, but now he was curious.

“One unfortunate side effect however is mood change,” Phil laughed, looking at the lump as he walked towards the kitchen. “Since it takes so much energy it can cause some to get a little bit more grumpy than usual.” When he returned, he had the breakfast that was saved for the sleeping man in hand, placing it at the table in front of the blanket cocoon.

Slowly but surely, Quackity peeked out from under his mountain of blankets and pillows, sitting up and reaching for the bowl of porridge. He looked at it with contempt but started eating none the less. Techno sighed which earned him a glare from the shortest hybrid. When they locked eyes for a second, Techno noticed how the defiance in Quackity’s face warp into a more reluctant expression.

“You gotta get up after you’ve eaten,” Phil said, simultaneously chucking more wood into the fireplace. Apparently, that wasn’t enough either, so he went around the house and lit some candles. “We’ll work on your wings, yeah?” After he had lit enough candles to warm a small army, he retired to pull out the same fluffy sheep skin in front of the hearth.

Quackity grunted as he ate, looking like he was about lay down face first in the couch and ignore them both any second now.

Techno walked over to Phil and bent down, holding a hand next to his mouth and whispered comedically loud. “I think he might kill you if you make him move from there,” he said, loud enough for no one in the room to miss. Phil chuckled, and Quackity just glared and ate his breakfast aggressively, which caused Techno to chuckle himself.

“But for real Phil, I trust you but why are you making the house into a sauna?” Techno continued, standing up and talking normally. He didn’t mind much, he enjoyed the warmth, but it seemed to come out of nowhere.

“It’s good if it’s warm when moulting since it can get stressful,” Phil said. Techno was momentarily amazed with how much Phil knew about this kind of stuff, and it almost seemed as if Quackity thought the same with how he perked up when the eldest shared his knowledge. 

Eventually, Quackity finished his very late breakfast and slowly made his way to sit close to the fire. Every move looked sluggish, and Techno thought to himself of how bad it would be if someone caught you in that state, but he shrugged the thought off. Rather than thinking of that, he took his place on the couch and watched as the two birds fell into what seemed to be the new routine of the house.

Phil took a yellow wing in his hand, eyes widening when he saw the now empty slots of feathers. “You’re missing lots of feathers, Quack.”

Quackity kept an uninterested gaze at the fire and shrugged. “It takes like, a week for duck hybrids to moult, so a lot of feathers drop. I think they said something about not being able to fly during that time, but I don’t know.” Techno briefly thought to himself who they were in this situation, and he figured it would be some of the same people that were should have been the ones to teach him how to fly. The voices flared up, some upset at the remembrance, others angry and demanding blood like they usually did.

The reassurance seemed to quell some of Phil’s worries, but he still looked a bit upset. He shrugged it aside and returned his focus towards the wing he was holding. After letting Quackity know what he was doing, he started stretching it just like he had the day before. This time, the wing extended just a bit further, still not far, but it was edging on getting halfway. The progress was interrupted when Quackity let out a noise of complaint, which compelled Phil to stop. Back came the soothing words and actions.

“Moving onto the next one,” Phil said, sounding more like he was letting the other know that asking for permission. The duck nodded and braced himself once again, ready to repeat what had just happened.

If you asked Techno, who was someone completely unaware of how it felt to have wings or had no prior experience, he’d say it looked like it was going well. Quackity grimaced all the while they did this little spiel, but it was just a smidgin better compared to the day before. They were at it for a bit longer today, too, Techno noted as he watched from his spot on the couch.

After what was probably 30 minutes of stretching and relaxing, Phil finally relented, leaning back with a content smile. “You’re doing great, Quacks. When you’re back in shape, I could probably help you fly. It just might take a while.” Techno made sure to watch Quackity intently, waiting for his response. In all honesty, he was very curious as to see him fly. It had nothing to do with him wanting to spite the people in the others past through him. Yeah, not at all. At least he hoped Quackity wanted to spite those bastards.

—

Phil had let Quackity know that he could do whatever he wanted, giving him the option to either sit and relax on the couch, or help him shovel snow outside. For the time being, Phil was alone outside doing said task, clearing small area around the stairway and doors, but also around Carl’s pen. The work was harder than it seemed, taking its toll on the man’s body a while in.

Logically, he knew he had nothing to worry about. Moulting was natural and a sign of healing, but it felt off to see Quackity so lifeless. Okay- lifeless might be over exaggerating. He just looked… really, really tired. But still. He’d rather have him being energetic and tearing down the place.

Almost as if he was summoned by Phil’s train of thought, Quackity came waddling down the stairs. He was stuffed into a huge jacket, not the one he usually wore but Techno’s spare one. It was larger and probably warmer, and Phil thought it honestly was a good idea to have the larger one as to not put a strain on his wings. Besides, Techno barely wore anything other than his robes.

“Hey, Quack,” Phil said, looking over to Quackity with a fond smile. Phil wasn’t planning on making the duck hybrid work, but the one small part of his brain that thought that maybe it was good if he got to do something was squashed down immediately when he saw how Quackity melted into the jacket with his eyes closed.

“Forgot the ity,” he mumbled out, mouth obscured by the jacket. Even if he argued, Quackity seemed content with the company, and maybe even the nickname. Phil just laughed at him and kept shovelling the snow, and Quackity watched as his breaths puffed out in small clouds.

Phil turned around to the man accompanying him when enough time had passed. “I’m here when you want to talk, you know,” he said, starting off in a gentle tone that he hoped wasn’t too confrontational.

Quackity’s brows knit together as he looked over at Phil. He seemed to be thinking about his words carefully before uttering them. “Yeah,” was all he said, which coaxed a sigh from the blond man, and for a second, it almost looks like Quackity regretted talking.

“Take your time, no need to rush,” he added on in concern. “I just want you to know that the option is there. You’re gonna have to talk to someone eventually.” He went to lean against the fence on Carl’s enclosure. You could almost think that Quackity had fallen asleep with how silent it was, but with a small peek Phil could see that he was just staring at his shoes. “We want what’s best for you.”

A bitter laugh filled the air between them. “Not sure if Techno would say the same. Pretty sure he’s gonna kill me in my sleep. He watches me, Phil-“ his voice held a hint of humour in it, and Phil laughed a bit despite his confusion. It seemed that the two of them had very different views on how the piglin hybrid thought and felt.

“Quackity, he’s concerned about you, you do know that right? He helped you with your nightmare and wants you to get better.” Maybe it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did to see how Quackity’s head snapped up in disbelief, but it did, and Phil hated it. He pushed on. “He might not be the best at expressing his emotions, but he’s trying.”

“But- I literally was the vice president and the reason Schlatt got to become president.” The young hybrid had gripped the jacket around himself, as if holding it harder would help him solve this riddle. “I wouldn’t like me.”

Another pang shot through Phil’s heart. He understood Quackity spoke from Techno’s perspective, but it didn’t help to console him. “We’re anti-government, not anti-people. Maybe some people represent the government, but the real issue is how authority takes good people,” he reached an open hand out towards the sitting man on the staircase, “and twists them into something bad. You couldn’t have known how Schlatt would be. Techno thinks the same, and he has told me as much. If either of us hated you, we wouldn’t be here.”

Quackity had seemed to choke on his words, mouth hanging open but no noise coming out. The only thing that could be heard after that was a choked gulp as he nodded slowly. Seeing as he was done, Phil abandoned his spot leaning against the fence in favour of sitting on the stairs next to their guest.

“You’re a good person, Quackity. I’ve seen how you are with your friends. I’m sorry you had to be put in this situation, you don’t deserve it.”

And just like the day before, Quackity feared that tears would spill, especially when Philza wrapped a wing and an arm around his shoulders.

Chapter Text

Quackity was exhausted.

Every time he moulted, he always got like this. Add onto that equation that he was recovering and around two new friends strangers, it got even more taxing. And even worse, the two were hellbent on making him all emotional, and he really didn’t have the energy to put up a front like he usually did.

He hated it. He hated crying in front of them. It made him feel like a baby that couldn’t handle the least bit of negativity in his life, having to run for help at each little inconvenience. The logical part of his brain yelled at him that it was okay, everyone needed some help every now and then, but it was overshadowed the thoughts about how weak he must seem. Schlatt had hated it when he was weak.

Even though he thought like this, he couldn’t help but think it kind of felt good. Neither of them had cussed him out when he showed signs of vulnerability, which defied every part of his initial idea of how things would go when he first arrived. Techno killing him, Phil pitying him, them both leaving him alone in the cold- they were all plausible outcomes when Quackity trudged through the snow towards the cottage, not being able to stand the pain anymore. None of them were even close to this, it was a big change of plans. He was honestly so desperate at that point, he’d accepted all of the horrible results of his plan that his mind had provided, and he was ready to go through with it. Anything would be better than the constant aching pain in his back getting exponentially worse day by day. And when he looked past the dislike of the new feeling of safety, he could see how nice it was to be taken seriously, shown some compassion when he’s gone so long without it. That didn’t quell the opposing feelings, however.

It was all just so complicated, and right now, all Quackity wanted to do was to not think about it. He’d been doing that a lot, deciding to save his thinking for later. So here he was, laying bundled up on the sofa as close to the crackling fire as possible, absentmindedly tugging at his feathers. Some of the yellow feathers dusted the floor, laying scattered around where he had been. He would’ve felt bad if he cared. Phil was up in his room, working on something, and Techno was sitting at the dinner table, comparing maps.

Quackity noticed he’d almost fallen asleep when he was startled awake by the screeching noise of a chair gliding against the wooden floors. When he peeked up, he saw Techno walking over to the common area, only to stop and stare at the floor, then Quackity.

“What?” Quackity said, mustering up some sass as he stared up at Techno from his spot on the couch.

“You’re leaving a thin layer of feathers everywhere. My house is yellow,” Techno deadpanned, staring at the offender and holding a hand towards the mess, looking almost hopeless. When he glanced at the sofa, the helplessness only grew to a look of despair.

The duck cackled a bit at the expressions. He was unnecessarily giddy about it, finally getting some energy back at the aspect of getting to tease the mighty blood god. “Your house? Buddy, I’ve marked my territory, this is my house now.” He shuffled to sit up to stare at the standing man better, making his shit eating grin even more visible.

Techno only moved closer, looking a bit too threatening for Quackity’s liking, and he scrambled to hold up his blanket in defence. The piglin hybrid seemed satisfied at that, laughing in a gruff tone.

“I’ll call Philza Minecraft on you if you try to pull some shit,” Quackity said, pointing a finger at Techno, whose eyes flashed in genuine fear for a second. The duck laughed even louder, and it looked as if Techno was trying to fight off his own smile in hopes of looking serious.

It seemed as if Phil had a third sense for comedic timing, since he just then joined the two, finally coming down from his room. He had an innocent but confused smile on his face, shifting his eyes between the two.

Quackity simply couldn’t stop laughing when he saw how the tallest man almost shrunk to make himself look non-threatening (it didn’t work very well, but it was funny nonetheless). Phil held way more power than he could ever imagine.

“Boys?” Phil questioned in a puzzled tone, chuckling when he saw the scene unfold before him. Quackity kept laughing, almost hiccupping a bit. When he tried standing up, the blanket entwined with his legs, effectively making him fumble to stay somewhat upright. Techno laughed as he struggled, but Phil took a few steps closer to make sure he didn’t trip and fall on his face, but backed off when he seemed to get it, deciding to laugh too.

“Phil, Phil- listen, he’s being so rude, he’s complaining about the feathers. I’m just marking my territory!” Instead of getting up from the couch, he settled on half sitting on it weirdly, gesturing at the small mess that has accumulated over the day.

Phil was a very confusing man, Quackity knew, but this was weird. Instead of blowing him off or laughing at their antics, Philza seemed to be genuinely concerned to some degree. He walked up to Quackity, ruffling his beanie and gave Techno a look, and all Quackity could do was stare, eyes as wide as saucers. Why didn’t he just laugh at him? It was obviously a joke, so why didn’t the man just laugh at Quackity and blow him off? He snapped up to meet eyes with Phil, who gave him a confused look again, squinting to see the duck hybrid better.

“You alright, mate?”

He gaped. “Wh- yes? I was just joking, it’s okay. Why are you being all extra? Stop doing that. Beat Techno up or something if you really care,” he managed to get out, trying to return to his regular joking tone. Phil only looked at him as if he was stupid, and oh god he’d fucked up, hadn’t he? He shouldn’t have said that and then ridiculed Phil on top of that, god he’s so stupid-

“Just want to make extra sure you’re not being serious before I start laughing at you, that'd kinda be a dick move to do,” he chuckled, tugging the beanie over the man’s eyes. “Better to be safe than sorry.”

Quackity felt dumb, because he really didn’t get it. He’d be fine either way, what was the point? The same feeling of hating the new and weird experiences bubbled up, leaving him aching. This was something that people wanted, they wanted to be listened to and taken into consideration, but why did it feel so weird? Couldn’t it just have stayed the same, with people just laughing at him and assuming that he was fine, because really, he was most of the time. And if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have to take it seriously if everyone treated it as a joke. But Phil didn’t seem to have the same idea, and despite the reassurance, Quackity’s mind still raced.

“Quackity, hey. Mate, stop-“ Phil had gotten a bit closer, trying to present placating with his hands in the air. Why would he do that? Quackity gave him a confused look, eyebrows pulled together. A sudden pain shooting up his wing snapped him out of it and made him realise how he had been tugging on his feathers. Some broken ones had fallen out, but he had accidentally grabbed and yanked at a healthy one. He cussed and quickly pulled his hand away, and Phil looked white as a sheet.

“Kid, I am begging you to not pull at your feathers,” he breathed out, gently holding onto the younger hybrids hands so he couldn’t continue pulling. “If you nick a feather that’s growing in it’ll start bleeding,” he continued, trying to soothe the other by moving his hands as he spoke.

“That’s what that is?” There was a lot that Quackity could have said, but the shock of realisation hit him too hard. Suddenly, a lot of things were starting to fall into place. He knew that feathers were like hair, it was dead, so when he a while ago broke a feather and it started bleeding furiously, he had been in complete shock.

Phil seemed almost as shocked as him, which was weird, since he was the one to tell Quackity. “…Yes? Has it happened to you?” When Quackity nodded, Phil sat completely still for a few seconds, retracting his hands to keep pull one up to his head, rubbing his face in a weary manner. “You took care of it?”

Did he? Quackity thinks he did. It was more like shoving many towels on his wing, applying as much pressure as possible without him crying too bad. Now that he thinks back on it, he ran through more towels than what was probably normal.

When he didn’t get an answer, Phil just took a shaky breath and covered his eyes to gather himself for a second. Now Quackity knew for a fact that he had fucked up. “If you don’t treat one right, you could very well bleed out,” he said in a distraught tone, and Quackity cringed. It would’ve been extremely awkward if he survived explosions and wars, only for his last life to be snatched away from him because he broke a feather. It would’ve been straight up embarrassing, actually.

“I obviously didn’t take care of it too badly, I mean, I’m still here,” he said, chuckling and making his voice sound weird. It didn’t have the effect he wished, however, seeing as how both Phil and Techno just stared at him with varying degrees of concern. Tough crowd. “What? It’s no biggie, and you guys hated me back then either way,” he retorted. Guilt flashed inside of him, welled and rose to the top of his conscious as he saw how the worry be replaced with shame on Philza’s face.

“I- I’m sorry,” Quackity said in a measly attempt at repairing his damage. He’d had more fuck ups in this one conversation than he’s had in a while, and all of his slip-ups going unpunished made him nervous. Waiting for the repercussions of his mistakes was almost worse than just being told off immediately. “I didn’t mean to… Whatever, don’t mind me,” he muttered out, quickly stripping himself of the soft blankets so he could escape the suffocating atmosphere of the room. He left a pensive Phil and an awkward Technoblade in his wake.

—

He didn’t know whose room he had entered, but at this point it really didn’t matter all that much. He’d already fucked up big time, another mistake added to the roster couldn’t be that bad.

In the corner of the room, there lay a woollen sweater, one that Quackity hadn’t seen before. Not being able to control his curiosity, he walked up to it and prodded a bit. It was really soft. When he got closer, he noticed it wasn’t finished. It was a light yellow colour, something that was slightly reminiscent of the sun. It looked to be too small for Techno, and it had small slits in the back, so he assumed it was something Phil was making for himself.

He left the sweater and walked around the room once again. The bed looked very warm and cozy, filled to the brim with pillows and had two extra blankets over the comforter. At the foot end of the bed, an enderchest stood and emanated a small amount of almost ominous light. The contents of Quackity's own enderchest were miniscule, almost. He knew the number of things he had wouldn’t be of interest to many of the other members of the server, but the small amount of things he got to keep during his time under the Schlatt administration laid nestled safely within the chest, hidden away from any other person who tried to open it. For a second, he thought about what Phil had in his. Probably uncountable riches, stacks of diamonds and netherite, golden apples even.  The scenario he made up in his head didn’t do anything but hurt his own feelings, and Quackity wanted to cuss himself out for it.

Quackity slipped down onto the ground, leaning his shoulder against a dark wooden wardrobe to slow his decent. Exhaustion tugged at his every limb, dragging him down to the ground. Of course he could sleep on the bed, but Phil would probably be mad, and being kicked out didn’t seem so appealing at the moment. He could deal with the consequences of his actions if it was just yelling and screaming, maybe a small fight, but he really had no idea where to go if he couldn’t return here.

There he slept, on the floor of Phil’s room, praying silently that he could escape his problems for just a moment.

Chapter Text

Rapping on the door snapped Quackity out of his half sleep on the floor. For a fleeting second, he was back at the whitehouse, passed out on the ground with the intrusive sound of clicking of dress shoes filling the air. Soon, he’d be yanked up from the floor, yelled at, told that he should be working, why were you even on the floor you useless-

“Quackity?” The voice was a lot softer than he was expecting, and slowly a sense of familiarity that felt safer returned to him. “Quack, I’m coming in, sorry mate.”

A green clad figure with sleek, black wings filled the doorframe, eyes searching through the room for the one he came for. When he lowered his gaze and finally spotted the smaller hybrid, his eyes went wide. Quackity gulped, remembering why he even escaped to the small room in the first place. Right, he had upset Phil. Oh god, he had upset Phil.

The gaze that fell upon him felt heavy, and he scrambled to sit up a bit straighter, hopefully looking presentable. When he glanced up at Phil, he looked concentrated and a bit worried, forehead creased. Quackity stumbled to stand up, still leaning on the same closet with a feigned sense of relaxation. In reality, his nerves were on end, skin prickling in anticipation of the berating he knew was coming his way.

“H-Hey, Philza,” he said, chuckling nervously. Jesus, was he that obvious? It was his fault for letting his guard down around them. A fake sense of security was dangerous, he knew that, but god it was nice to be able to relax for just a moment, for one second. Was it his fault for hoping it could work? “Sorry for barging into your room- at least I think it’s your room. And for upsetting you.” He stopped himself before he could ramble on forever and worsen his situation even more.

Phil’s lips pulled into a thin line, and he stood still for a second, not answering. Quackity felt his skin run cold as ice, yet everything felt warm. His heart was up in his throat, beating as if it was begging to be let out and escape his clenching chest. And then Phil cut his train of thought off, opening his arms and reaching a hand towards him.

Quackity flinched away, head snapping down and away. Suddenly, it felt really bad to be cornered against the closet. Staggering back, he finally got another look at Phil, and he looked… sad? Upset. Angry? Quackity could feel himself shrink. Phil wasn’t that type of guy, it was rude of him to think he would ever do something like that to him, but he couldn’t help it.

“Shit- my bad, I- fuck,” he stammered out as he stood now in the middle of the room, Phil being a bit away from him. “I didn’t mean to- I don’t think that about you.” He waved a hand around to try and soothe the older man, but he didn’t dare to try to make eye contact. The floor was infinitely much easier to stare at.

“It’s okay, Quack. The real question is are you okay?” The voice was so very gentle, he still hadn’t gotten the time to get used to it. The tone of it all almost distracted him from the actual question that he had been asked, but he managed to snap himself out of it. It was only then that he noticed he had begun to tug at his feathers again. Almost as if they burned him, he pulled his hand back quickly and threw a guilty look Phil’s way.

“Yeah. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he mumbled out. "Sorry."

“Quackity?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you look at me?”

Slowly, slowly, Quackity looked up at the other man. Phil still had one hand reached towards him, but he was staying a good bit away, almost as if he was reaching for a skittish animal. It made Quackity hate himself momentarily. It was hard to keep calm as he tried to maintain the eye contact. Fear clawed at his insides, but Phil seemed calm. He didn’t seem angry at him shockingly enough, but Quackity knew it was best to not trust that.

“Good, that’s great. Can you breathe with me?” The hand that was reached towards Quackity slowly reached to Philza’s own chest as he emphasized his breathing. Quackity complied, breaths stuttering as he tried to match the slow and steady rhythm of the other man. He hadn’t even noticed how short and frantic his breaths were but with enough time, he was able to calm them down. A slight buzz in his ear started to lift, and he could hear the mumbling praises that were shot his way. “See, you’re doing great. In…” Phil continued.

Quackity’s breaths were returned to almost normal, only hitching every now and then, but Phil was still standing cautiously to the side, giving the smaller hybrid his space. And when he went to stretch his hand out slowly again, Quackity only leaned back a bit, but didn’t flinch.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, mate,” he said, dropping his hand either way.

“Why?” Such a simple question felt heavy to ask, but Quackity pushed through. “I-I upset you, and barged into your room, and- and- fuck,” he heaved, taking a breath once again. “It’s better to get it over with.”

Phil looked with a lack of better words heart-broken, and it made something in Quackity’s stomach twist and turn. “I’m not mad, why would I be?”

Quackity stammered for a few seconds, not being able to put his thoughts into words. Because I fucked up. Because I need to learn my lesson. Because I never do anything right. The words that bounced around his head were reflections of a certain president’s words, and as much as he told himself he despised Schlatt and didn’t care, it was hard to let such things go. “Because I upset you,” was all he said instead.

“That’s no reason for me to lash out at you. I’m not upset, either. I just don’t like to think about how you treated yourself before this,” Phil said, choking a bit on his words as he tried to get them to sound right and comforting. “Nothing you say will make you worthy of harm.”

What Phil said should've been obvious. Why was is so hard for him to understand? In the small while he had been here, they had been nothing but nice and accepting, yet he couldn’t get it through his thick skull that what they were saying was true. He hadn’t even really understood that he thought the opposite was true; hadn’t understood that he was wary about being harmed for saying something “wrong”.  Maybe Phil was just lying to him. Quackity hoped he was.

“But-“ Quackity started, almost praying that Phil would reveal that it was all some sort of elaborate prank, it would’ve been so much easier to handle. “Schlatt-“ he started, instantly catching himself and snapped his mouth shut. Phil probably wouldn’t like that.

And he was right, Phil didn’t seem to like it. The small frown that played on the blond man’s face deepened into a sad grimace. “Quacks, Schlatt was a horrible man. Whatever he made you believe is not worth listening to.” Even if there was anger in his words, Quackity knew it wasn’t directed towards him. “I’m not saying you have to trust us right now, but please don’t trust Schlatt or the image you made of him in your head.”

Quackity just sat still, trying to process Phil’s words. Slowly, he nodded, not looking directly at Phil. He silently vowed to himself that he would try, just for them. Maybe for himself. From the corner of his eye, Quackity saw a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes on Phil’s face.

“Can I hug you?”

The question was gentle, but came out of nowhere really. Quackity’s head snapped up to meet Phil’s gaze, and the blond man had the same gentle look in his eye as before. Words didn’t come to Quackity, so instead he slowly nodded. It was like he dared himself to, challenging everything he had learned about physical contact during his time as vice. And it was worth it.

Phil encircled the smaller man in a comforting hug, wings encircling them both. One hand snaked its way up to rest at the nape of Quackity’s neck, and it was more comforting that Quackity had imagined. It didn’t take long for him to warm up to the touch, relishing in the caring put into it compared to what he had experienced earlier.

No claws lingered uncomfortably on his skin, making him feel vulnerable. Instead, he was protected from the outside world for a moment.

“Did you sleep on the floor?” Phil asked softly, never ceasing to comfort Quackity.

Quackity laughed a little at the question. “I- yeah, I think I did,” he said, pushing his head into the crook of Phil’s neck further which only made it harder for anyone to hear what he had to say. Phil parroted the laugh.

“You could’ve slept on my bed, you know,” he said. “It’s there to be slept on, otherwise I wouldn’t have one.” The humour of the situation was returning, and Quackity was ever grateful for how Phil seemed to be able to know exactly what was needed. For a second, he thought about how he could do that.

“Yeah, but it’s yours. I’m not a squatter, I don’t want to mess your bed up,” he huffed out. “And I didn’t know that then. What if I upset you?”

Phil tightened his hug marginally, Pulling the duck hybrid just a tiny bit closer. “Well, I’m telling you, from now on, you can sleep wherever you want and no one will be upset. Maybe not Techno’s room,” he backtracked, laughing at the thought. “But you won’t upset me. You live here for the moment, so don’t feel like you have to walk on eggshells.”

Quackity wished he could come up with another snarky and comedic comeback, but the ability had left him completely. Being held like this made him a bit calmer, and maybe it would be okay if he just let himself be like this for a second.

“Okay,” he muttered out with genuine appreciation clear in his voice. Phil just hummed in response.

This was something that was worth getting used to, Quackity thought.

Chapter Text

Quackity finally left the room, following behind Phil who had a smile on his face. He couldn’t help mirroring the older man’s smile, too, if only a bit smaller and mellow.

Techno peeked at them from where he sat at the couch, bringing his attention from the book he held in one hand. He seemed to look a bit skeptical, but more awkward than anything. Quackity gave him a look, almost trying to be intimidating, and Techno scoffed at him. If Quackity was more confident, he might’ve said that the other seemed a bit relieved at his antics.

Phil smiled at both of them and waved Quackity into the kitchen, the duck hybrid following without objection. When they both were in the room, Quackity sat down on the counter, content with just watching Phil work with whatever. He dangled his legs from where he sat. Phil was already keeping himself busy, cooking what he assumed would be dinner. The sound of food being prepared echoed around the kitchen, and it created a nice atmosphere in the small house.

The noise had Quackity a bit distracted, so he didn’t initially notice when an awkward Technoblade stood in the doorframe. When he finally did notice, he just levelled a stare at the tall man. He almost had to restrain himself from chuckling when Techno just stared at him back; it was almost as if they were in a small staring contest.

Techno was the first one to break the silent competition, closing his eyes and sighing. After composing himself, he raised a hand and gave Quackity a pat on the shoulder. Quackity just stared at the piglin-hybrid, having not expected any sort of attempt at... whatever this was.

They stayed like that for a second, Quackity staring and Techno looking tense as always. And then he couldn’t help it anymore, Quackity laughed.

It was such a strange situation, and even if he was chuckling, he really did appreciate it. It was just that he thought that Techno would be the last person to do something like this, yet it was oddly fitting with how he awkwardly stood there, looking way out of his element. And it would seem that Techno agreed, if his pinched facial expression was anything to go by.

The piglin hybrid tentatively pulled his hand back, letting it fall to his side. Quackity maybe would have felt bad for laughing if it wasn’t for the fact that Phil was also laughing, so he took that as a sign that it was okay to continue.

“I don’t appreciate you laughin’ at my attempts of being nice,” he grumbled out in a joking tone. That made Quackity holler, clutching at his chest as he doubled over. Phil at least tried to be discreet, but still failing to muffle his laughter.

“That’s you being nice? If you didn’t look like such a nerd I’d be shitting myself in fear,” Quackity heaved out as he wiped at his eyes. Techno was a scary man, but Quackity would never allow himself to be afraid of him when he looked like that- stale and like one wrong move would embarrass him do death.

Despite the banter flew in between the trio, dinner was nice, maybe it was because of the banter. It was comforting that such a joking atmosphere could come back. Quackity had felt like it was unattainable just a while back and was thankful that a sense of normalcy was returning to him, even if that normalcy was with his former enemies. Of course he still felt off; no matter how much he laughed he still had had some sort of breakdown just a few minutes prior. But the helpful words from Philza and the… attempt at comfort from Techno did more than he could imagine.

Not soon after, the three found themselves resting in the living room. It seemed like they were making progress- Phil still keeping up with the careful stretching of Quackity’s unused wings. It was a lot more taxing than Quackity would like to admit, but he guessed it was to be expected. That didn’t stop him from trying to act as if it wasn’t.

“Okay Quacks, wanna flap your wings a bit?” Phil had leaned back from his seat behind the other, putting his hands behind him for support. When Quackity glanced at him, the man seemed excited.

Quackity scoffed in good nature at him. “I’ve been waiting,” he shot back cockily at the blond, daring to spread his wings on his own. It was a relief beyond understanding when jolts of pain didn’t shoot down his back immediately.

The new but kind of familiar movement took a bit of getting used to, Quackity found. It was more of him bringing his wings up and down slowly and with concentration than him actually flapping them and replicating flight patterns. He didn’t know enough to recognise every flaw, but Phil, the expert, was laughing at him.

“That’s cute,” he chuckled which gained him loud complaints from Quackity, who turned around for the sole reason to cuss him out properly.

“You asked for this! I bet you’re just jealous of my epic wing movements- I’m a protegé- pro… ugh-“

“Prodigy,” Techno cut in, sounding extremely unimpressed but slightly amused with Quackity’s guessing game.

“Didn’t ask but okay,” he said, glaring at Techno before turning back to Phil. “You’re just mad because I’m a prodigy!” Quackity smirked at Phil’s guttural laughter, taking it as a personal compliment. He almost forgot about acting offended, which also made Techno laugh.

“No, seriously,” Phil continued, slowly collecting himself again. “You’re overthinking it. It looks like you’re about to pop a vein with how hard you’re focusing. It’s like walking, it’s instinct.” Phil put a hand on the shorter avian’s shoulder for comfort which he shrugged off.

“Fine, fine.” A part of him wanted to argue with Phil. What if someone never learned to walk? Was it really instinct or was it just something that should be easy enough for anyone to learn? Maybe he was just incompetent; he should know this by now, no matter if he had someone to teach him or not. He shook his head in an attempt to shake his thoughts away, focusing on the task at hand instead.

Quackity picked up the pace. It was strenuous, and a bit uncomfortable. If he was a bit careful, it didn’t hurt, but it felt weird to use muscles you’ve barely used before. On top of that, it was obvious his wings were weak. He cussed under his breath as pain flashed slightly through his back as he worked up courage to flap his wings a bit harder. Phil was immediately there, hands hovering around the black-haired man.

“I’m fine,” he said, but Phil looked unimpressed.

Phil stood up and held a hand out for Quackity. “You did good, no worries. It’s only been a short while,” he said with a smile as Quackity accepted the offered hand and got up. He stood up only to proceed to flop down dramatically on the couch that had been made into his temporary bed. The groan he let out was unnecessarily dramatic.

“Why does it take so long,” he whined. “Can’t I just go back to how I had it before?” When he glanced at the other two, Quackity understood that was not the right thing to say. Techno had one eyebrow raised and looking apathetic. Phil was squinting at him looking a bit sad. Something twinged inside of Quackity, and he had to remind himself that it was okay, Phil was just concerned.

Phil sighed and sat down on the table in front of the sofa. “The whole reason you came here was so you wouldn’t have to do that, I thought that was clear.” Phil looked like he was about to drop the “I’m not mad, just disappointed” bomb on Quackity any minute now, and it made him feel a mix of amusement and dread. “No one said it was gonna be easy, but it will be hell of a lot easier than what you did before,” he continued on. Quackity sat dumbfounded for a second, only nodding slightly.

“Quackity,” Phil said, tone serious, and Quackity hadn’t even noticed that he had gotten used to the endearing obnoxious nickname until now, when his full name was being thrown his way. It felt like he was being scolded. “I’m not dumb, I know that you were doing bad. Not how bad, but there is no way in hell you weren’t suffering through that. And I don’t want that for you.” Towards the end of the sentence, Philza softened up a bit.

What could he even respond with to that? Yeah, Quackity understood it was obvious that he wasn’t doing that good when he arrived, but it felt like Phil knew more than he thought he knew. “But I could handle it,” came the weak argument. It was such an obvious lie; he wouldn’t have come to the two if he could’ve handled it himself.

But Phil didn’t call him out on his lie, not even when all three of them knew that Quackity was in denial. Instead, he just gave Quackity a sad smile and patted him on his shoulder carefully. “Get some rest mate, we can talk in the morning.” Quackity gave no action or words of affirmation, just slid down on the sofa, and Phil exited the room, leaving the other two sitting alone in the common area, silence taking over the room in Phil's wake.

Quackity made no attempts to interact with Techno at the moment, instead just sliding down on the sofa. Techno eyed Quackity up and down for a split second, then turned his attention to the small but thick book in his hands. The book had definitely seen better days. The pages were tattered, and hundreds of index markings flared up from the book, probably marking important passages and quotes. The golden details on the cover were almost etched off, but the words “art of war” were still very visible. Techno seemed to notice Quackity’s staring at the book and returned the favour.

“Do you, uh… Want to read it?” Techno gingerly stretched the book out for Quackity to examine further if he wished to. “It’s a good book,” he said, deadpan.

“It has to be if you’ve been reading it that much,” said Quackity as he took the offered item. He had no interest in reading it, but it was interesting to see what Techno had marked on the pages. He flipped through the marked pages, looking at the passages and words that were underlined. It was almost a monstrosity; more text was marked than unmarked.

Quackity squinted at one passage in particular. “There is no instance of a nation benefitting from prolonged warfare,” he read out loud, squinting at Techno who just sat still and looked at Quackity expectantly. “Kind of ironic that you marked this one,” he continued, returning his attention to the book only for his focus to be cut short by a snort from Techno. He just rolled his eyes and continued.

He flipped through the pages and found one especially marked out. A red sticky note marked a passage and it seemed as if it had been underlined several times over, some of the graphite markings almost faded and some looking newer. “If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles,” Quackity drawled. There was more to the text, but he only bothered to read the one sentence, which had been underlined more than the rest. He met eyes with Techno who just shrugged.

“Sun Tzu was a wise man,” was all the piglin said in his defence. He eyed his precious book a bit, then looked at Quackity. “It’s a good book, you should read it.”

Quackity rolled his eyes and handed it back to the tall man, not bothering to page through it anymore. “I don’t want to read your war story books from the 1800s, Techno, but thanks.” For a second it sounded like Techno was choking, and despite being concerned, Quackity had the gut to think it was kind of funny.

“It was written like 400BCE!” His voice was higher than usual and had the incredulous tone it got every once in a while. “You’re so far off it’s not even funny,” he continued, taking the book back and holding it close to his chest as if Quackity had deeply offended the inanimate object. And even if Techno would claim it wasn’t funny, Quackity laughed, because it was funny. The pink haired man just grumbled and went back to reading.

Quackity resigned to staring at the ceiling, only throwing a glance in Techno’s direction every now and then. The fire was smouldering, only crackling now and then, leaving the room in a cozy darkness.

“Why do you keep looking at me,” said Techno without looking up from his book, which made Quackity jump a bit.

“Jesus- how do you- whatever.” Techno huffed a small laugh, seemingly taking Quackity’s surprise as a compliment. That man could be scary. “Are you just gonna sit here and read? Are you planning on watching me sleep or something? I fucking knew it, you weirdo-“

“Don’t flatter yourself,” the piglin cut him off. “If I were a creep and was gonna watch someone sleep it probably wouldn’t be you, more likely some influential leader so that I could take them down.”

“Wow, rude much? I was literally the vice-“

Techno cut him off again, still not sparing a glance. “I’m staying nearby if anything were to happen,” he concluded, and Quackity fell silent. He didn’t know exactly what Techno meant, but he had a creeping suspicion that it had something to do with his previous nightmare. It was a weird way of showing your appreciation, but Quackity was growing to understand Techno more and more.

Finally relenting, Quackity just huffed and stared at the ceiling, thoughts swirling around in his head as he tried to force himself to sleep.

It had been a long day.

Chapter Text

Phil was behind him, gently running his hands through his wings. Waves of homely warmth radiated from the fire in front of him, coaxing him to relax. Familiar hands kept up the work, and murmurs filled the room.

As time passed, the room grew darker, but the fire illuminated the room in a warm glow. Despite what Quackity had learned was a reassuring atmosphere, something felt off. The heat from the fire constantly grew, making him uncomfortably warm. The large and slightly itchy shirt he wore was feeling heavy and restrictive.

No matter what he did, the discomfort never left, and the caring touch quickly warped into something more intrusive and uncomfortable, making him feel almost threatened.

“Phil, can we- can you stop?” The question was uttered softly, and despite thinking- knowing he was safe, Quackity couldn’t help but feel uncertain about what was happening. Guilt started to swell in response to his uncertainty; who was he to question the people who took care of him? They were the ones who arguably had shown him the most kindness in a long time.

Phil froze, fingers still intwined in the feathers, and Quackity’s chest tightened. Why was he so scared?

“I’m doing this for your sake, Quackity.” The voice was familiar, but not in the way he wanted it to be. Phil’s cheerful voice had been mixed together with something more sinister, and Quackity didn’t like to think about it for too long. He was pulled out of his thoughts by a searing pain; Phil had balled his hands, grabbing several of the feathers and tugging them hard- way too hard.

“Ph- Phil? Hey man, s-stop-“ Quackity cut himself off with a cry as Phil yanked at the golden feathers. His hands flew up to cover his mouth to supress the pained yell. The warmth from the fire was scorching now, but his insides felt like ice. His skin prickled uncomfortably, and if he even moved an inch, the grip on his wings grew tenfold, causing white hot pain to spread all over him.

“I said, I’m doing this for you, Quackity.” The grip on his wings relented for a few seconds, and the hands moved to pet them gently again. “You don’t seem to appreciate the work I’m putting in for you. Weren’t you the one who asked for this?” The hands travelled across the small wings, dancing carefully along the yellow feathers. Finally, the hard grip that Quackity had been expecting settled, and it felt as if the bones in his wings were going to snap from the strength of it.

He tried to regulate his breath before speaking, just like Phil had taught him. “I… please let go.” Phil- more so the person behind him only laughed. The voice was disturbing. It was someone he knew, but that was about all he could place. It sounded like it was several people talking at once, all eager to be the one to put Quackity in his place.

“You’re so fucking ungrateful, taking all this for granted,” the voice continued, becoming more familiar by the second. “Jesus Christ, these are ugly. It’s a shock Philza and that pig can even stand looking at you. They don’t know your worth like I do. They can’t appreciate you the way I do.”

Images of broken bottles flashed in his mind, and he allowed himself to feel grief in that moment. He allowed himself to mourn the dead president, despite everything.

It only lasted for a mere second, thoughts and feelings being interrupted by a tug. He could feel the tension from the pull spreading through-out his body as if he was in slow-motion. The seconds that it would take to sever his wings from his body felt far too long, but slowly, slowly, he felt the excruciating pain, a weight leaving his back and-

—

There was a new scene playing in front of him. His vision was filled with green fields and blue skies. Some kids were running around with a few adults lingering after them. He couldn’t take in his surroundings for long; there was now a woman crouching in front of him taking up most of his field of vision.

“I’m sorry, bubs. It’s dangerous for you to try to fly. We don’t want you to get hurt, okay?” Her voice was sickeningly sweet, and it did nothing to alleviate the pain that the words brought.

He wanted to scream, to cry, to yell about how unfair it is. He does, or- he remembers that he did. Everything happening around him was a weird haze, seemingly happening at the time but having happened before. It was like re-watching an old movie.

The adults around him towered over him and did nothing that could comfort him, showing only pity as he lashed out. As much as he’d love to fight it, Quackity now knew that they were right. He should’ve trusted them from the very beginning; he was a flightless bird. Acceptance is a strange concept. The pain is still there, but he had just had to learn to live along-side it and treat it as a friend of sorts, learning the ins and outs of it better than anyone else.

—

And then he woke up.

It was a lot less violent compared to last time. Despite the panic and fear bubbling in his chest, he could still breathe. The one odd thing out was how warm his face felt, and it took a few seconds for him to register that he had been crying. Rolling over to his side, he hugged one of the pillows and curled around it closely. Suddenly, he was really grateful for Phil providing him with unnecessarily many pillows.

A careful hand on his head pulled him out of his stupor. The placement was weird, and the interaction felt clunky but comforting. His hands flew out to remove the offending limb from his head, and when he got a better look at his surroundings, he noticed it was none other than "The Blade" who had decided to gently facepalm him.

Techno looked tense, maybe a little bit worried. The indicators of emotions were so tiny, but it all seemed a bit more real when it was dark like this. Quackity shook his head and wiped at his face, cleaning up the runaway tears with his palms. Guilt, shame and anger fought for dominance in his chest, he didn’t know which reaction was the more appropriate emotional response to this sort of situation. He was putting Techno on the spot with just crying, but Quackity tried to shrug that thought off.

Silence fell over the two as Techno just sat with his shoulders squared, as if he was bracing for something. Quackity didn’t care to look at him all that much, he preferred looking at the ceiling which was nothing more than emotionless. If you asked him a couple of weeks ago, Quackity would’ve said that the difference between staring at Techno and a wall wouldn’t be big, but now that he could see the emotions in the cracks of the other man’s façade, he wishes he couldn’t anymore.

“I have nightmares,” said Techno after a while had passed. “You’re not weird for havin’ ‘em. That- that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck,” he corrected himself after a few seconds. “I just mean that… It- it’s okay to have nightmares.” Techno seemed to be mulling over his words carefully, putting a lot of thought into it.

Quackity thought about what he was told for a long time. It should’ve been obvious, but many, many other things should’ve been obvious. It was like Techno was challenging things he didn’t even know he believed, and he couldn’t help but agree with the man.

“Yeah– yeah, it is okay.” Quackity noted that he sounded a bit too surprised for his own liking. Techno seemed to think the same, as a concerned squint was sent his way. "It is," he said with more confidence, but it didn't negate Techno's stare.

Seeing Techno emote so much still felt strange. This man was the pinnacle of fear in Quackity’s mind. He never imagined that in this lifetime that he’d see the piglin-hybrid express more than a teaspoon of emotion, but his world view was being challenged every day. And if he was going to be up front with himself– it was as relieving as unnerving. No longer was he just the blood thirsty man who chased governments down, but more of, well, a person. The concepts clash in his head, and he wishes everything was simpler.

“–rth to Quackity. Hello?” He could hear Techno grumble something to himself and heaving a sigh just as Quackity snapped back to it.

“Sorry. I was thinking.”

Techno snorted a bit. “That seems unusual of you to do. Do too much of that and your brain’ll explode,” he said in a lighter tone, making himself comfortable. It was only then that Quackity noticed that Techno had been half kneeling on the floor next to the couch, now sitting down.

Quackity didn’t bite back at the remark, instead he just turned to lay on his back again. It was hard for him to not slip back into the nightmares, analysing them. Only one of them was a nightmare, if he really thought about it. Maybe the other one would be called a flashback? Quackity just grumbled and brought his hands up to his face, covering his still leaking eyes.

“This is so fucking stupid,” he grumbled out in a low voice, catching Technoblade of guard. Quackity didn’t know why he was saying it, but his mouth moved before he could stop it.

Techno, however, sat still next to the sofa, turning his head slightly towards Quackity, inclining him to continue. He didn’t know if he wanted to, but he had no intention of stopping apparently.

“It’s fucking stupid,” he repeated, this time more confident. “I-I shouldn’t be so fucking upset over something that happened so long ago.” His palm slightly dug into his face in another desperate attempt to quell the flow of tears that just seemed to grow more violent the more frustrated he got.

“…You can’t be expected to get over something so quick. I don’t know the full story, but Schlatt seemed like a real ass to you.” Techno was speaking slowly, choosing his words with care, like it was one of the most important things he had ever done.

Despite the thought and care put into the words, Quackity had to scoff at Techno. The sadness and confusion warped into misdirected anger at… no one in particular, really. Maybe himself. “He was more than just an ass. He fucking- this isn’t even about him!” His hand flew up into the air. “Schlatt was a dick but he was smart! He wasn’t wrong about me. No one was wrong about– Shit,” he uttered. The longer he talked the shakier his voice grew.

“Lord. I thought I was okay with knowing I’m incompetent and can’t fly and-“ he cut himself off by taking a deep breath, once again covering his face. Quackity knew he was going to regret this in the morning, but he was so tired. Rational thought was not something he had right now, and he had no will to try and think straight. Like usual, he’ll suck it up and deal with it.

Techno had been suspiciously quietly for a long while now, not saying a single word as Quackity lashed out. When Quackity finally dared to peak over, the tall man was looking at him.

“Look, Quackity.” His tone was serious, but soft, not as commanding or cold as it usually was. Despite it still being comforting, it made him shy away a bit; it felt unnatural and strange. Maybe he wanted someone to yell at him so he could finally yell back and get it all out without being reduced to a sobbing pile on the floor. He itched to spill about everything that has happened, to yell and scream. It would be so much easier to cope that way. 

Techno’s words cut through the haze that was his mind. “You’re not incompetent. You’re-“ he seemed to take a break to think before continuing. “You’re more than people tell you you are. You're smart. Hell– you got an entire army to hunt me down.” The end of his sentence was punctuated by a small laugh. 

Quackity mirrored the laugh, because yeah, it was kind of strange how so many people were willing to basically sacrifice themselves to have even the slightest chance to take down the so called blood god. The laugh however quickly warped into a sob, and it got out before he could clasp his hands over his mouth. After that, it just wouldn’t stop; the dam had broken.

As his sobs grew more intense, Quackity sat up to hug his knees close to his chest in a meagre attempt at keeping himself together somehow. His shoulders were wracked with the sobs that he had supressed for so long, and it was almost cathartic if it weren’t for the guilt and regret already taking over. Someone telling him something so simple as that shouldn't have the power to reduce him to this state, but he hadn't realised how much he needed the reassurance. He had always entertained the idea that he was more than he was told, that he had more, did more than he was credited to, but to hear it from someone else was making something theoretical a reality. 

To his surprise, Technoblade didn’t leave, nor did he cuss him out for his breakdown. Instead, gentle hands settled on his shoulders in an unfamiliar way. In response to the contact, he attempted to calm himself so he could have the slightest chance at looking the other in the eye.

It was harder than anticipated. His breaths were coming out in short bursts, stuttering with every inhale, almost like he had the hiccups. He had truly forgotten how much it sucks to feel emotional. Instead, he bit down and continued around the lump in his throat, staring at his feet to avoid having to expose himself further. Through-out it all, Techno’s hands kept their position on his shoulders, a comforting and grounding weight that he didn’t really know he needed. When he wasn’t mid-breakdown, he would totally make fun of Techno for being a total softie.

After what felt like hours, Quackity’s breathing was returning to normal, and his cheeks had dried off just the tiniest bit. It was only then that he dared to peak up at Technoblade who had stayed silent next to his side.

Techno seemed to be zoned out a bit, staring at Quackity’s hands as he rubbed his shoulders back and forth. When Quackity looked at him, however, Techno’s eyes flicked up to meet the other’s. All the tension from Techno’s shoulders was gone, and he looked as if he had grown into the role of helping.

Quackity guessed the grimace Techno sent his way was supposed to be a comforting smile, but instead his lips just get pulled tight into a line, tusks jabbing out and disturbing the other features of his face. Somehow, it was still recognisable as a smile, and Quackity couldn't help it when he mirrors it. It’s followed by a bit of a crackly laugh as the black-haired man unwinds from himself, finally relaxing.

“You look stupid,” Quackity gritted out.

Thankfully, Techno knows how to take a joke, and his face lightened up into a more natural smile. “Thanks, you too. I won’t take slack from someone who wears a beanie to bed. Where did that go by the way?” The shit-eating grin is audible, and it sends Quackity in to a flurry to find the lost garment.

“I only sleep with it because you’re a creep and stay in the same room!” When Quackity found it, he yanked it on and pointed an accusing finger Techno’s way. He halted when he noticed the sombre look on Techno’s face. Quackity was ready to repress what happened, but it didn’t seem that Techno was on the same page as him.

Quackity’s theories were proven right the moment the piglin opened his mouth again. “Yeah. You should get some rest now,” he said, leaning back and once again getting comfortable at his newly claimed spot on the floor. “I know you like to make jokes, but you gotta let yourself feel bad sometimes,” he added, the same gentle voice returning. Quackity just grumbled and laid back down.

The urge to tease Techno was ebbing away slowly, the exhaustion taking its place. Now that Techno brought it up, he cringed at the nightmares he had barely managed to repress. He closed his eyes and took an extra deep breath. “Sure, but it still sucks,” he mumbled out in response, almost low enough to go unheard.

Not low enough, apparently.

“Yeah, it’ll suck for a while.” Techno sounded almost a bit drowsy by now, bringing a hand back to give the others shoulder a light-hearted pat. “I know for a fact you can handle that, though. Can’t you?”

“What the fuck does that me- yes I can, I’m not a pussy–“

“Good. Then prove it and sleep.”

Chapter Text

Techno’s ass hurt.

The floor was only comfortable for short periods of time, and judging by the fact that he had lost track of the time, he had sat there for long enough.

Despite the uncomfortable seating and impenetrable darkness that made it almost impossible to read, he refused to move. The images of Quackity crying and cussing himself out was an uncomfortable weight that lay on his shoulders; he could barely bring himself to leave the man alone after seeing that, even if it was what he would’ve wanted.

The most dreadful thing in all of this would be when Phil had to find out. Would he be considered a snitch if he told Phil about Quackity’s nightmare? Maybe it wasn’t his place to tell, but he was desperate to help his enemy. Friend? No. That’s too much to unpack for the moment. The point is, Techno knew Phil could help better than he could. He could give Quackity what he deserved. So maybe it was snitching, but in a well-meaning type of way.

Like usual, voices bounced around in his head, albeit a little less than usual. Technohelp, E, DADZA, Technohelp, TELL PHIL, Snitchza. Really, what was the reason for having that many voices in your head if they were all nonsensical? It didn’t help that they too were split on what was the right course of action. Some screamed at him to get Phil, others seemed like they wanted him to help. Him, really? Weren’t they aware of the fact that he was the same guy they referred to as “the blood god”? It cancels out, he can’t both be the softie and the war hero.

Despite wanting to keep up the tough guy exterior– or interior, as he would say, it was hard to not soften up just the tiniest bit. Quackity was for sure going to make fun of him for that at some point.

His thoughts carried him far away, it would seem, since soon the room basked in a faint morning glow. Dust caught the sun’s rays as it danced around in the small home, making for an almost magical scene.

The solitude was interrupted by the creaking of the floorboards, accompanied by Phil making his way into the main living area. He looked a bit tousled from his night’s sleep, but still wore the same smile as always.

The blond man raised a hand to wave at Techno’s general direction but seemed to do a double take when he saw where his old friend actually was. Instead of sitting comfortably in the armchair closest to the fire, he was nestled close to the sleeping figure, sitting on the floor. Techno sighed when he realised Phil had processed the scene in front of him.

“Tech, what’s going on?” There was a slight edge of concern in Phil’s voice, but also amusement, and Techno knew that despite asking, Phil probably already knew what had happened.

“He had a nightmare,” he said, making sure to keep his voice low as to not wake up the sleeping hybrid. As he spoke, he once again peeked over at said man, making sure everything was alright. Why wouldn’t it be alright? It had been for the last few hours. “Wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

Phil flashed a wary smile his way, shoulders dropping as his suspicions were confirmed. “That’s good, Techno.” After uttering the last words, he went into the kitchen to make the usual cups of tea, one for each of them.

The sounds emanating from the kitchen were familiar and was partially what made this house home. Techno doubted that he’d feel as comfortable and homey here if Phil wasn’t with him. Hell, he knew he didn’t. The time that Phil was under house arrest was tedious, and maybe it was just a tiny bit selfish to wish that Phil was with him, but only having a bunch of voices as company really, really sucked.

When Phil returned, he carried the two large cups of tea, one green and one pink. Techno thought it was unnecessary to colour-code their cups, but Phil insisted that it would be fun. Techno also noted that Phil was carrying something else under his arm that he hadn’t noticed before. The blond seemed to pick up on Techno’s slight ogling and sent another warm smile his way.

“It’s for Quacks,” he said, pulling out the yellow soft-looking thing from between his arm and torso. He held it up proudly, displaying it for his friend to see.

It was a sweater. Light yellow in colour, and it looked to actually be the right size for Quackity, judging from eye-measurement. When Phil turned it around, he could also see two holes for the wings.

“It took you that long to make him his own shirt? I was half expecting you to cut holes in everything I own,” he said in good nature, letting out a small laugh. Phil parroted his laugh, mumbling a small “fuck you, mate” under his breath.

The room fell into comfortable silence, Phil nursing his cup of tea and Techno absentmindedly staring out of the window, enjoying the morning.

“You gonna move from the floor soon?”

Techno levelled a glare at Phil who just laughed.

“Taking that as a no.”

—

Quackity stirred, groaning as he slowly came back to the living world. When he cracked his eyes open, sunlight creeping into every corner of his vision. It warmed his skin, and to be completely honest, it was a good feeling. The soft covers that lay on top of him were pulled closer as he let out a hum, turning over to his side.

One thing he did not expect when he woke up was to be face to face with Technoblade.

He let out a shriek, scrambling to get farther away from the pink-haired man. Techno didn’t seem to share the same horror, however, only looking mildly shocked by Quackity’s small shriek, mostly amused, really. Over his own panic and rustling of fabric, Quackity could hear the sound of boisterous laughter bouncing around the room.

“JESUS FUCK, GIVE ME A WARNING NEXT TIME YOU-“ He cut himself off with another yelp as he accidentally slipped on the several pillows on the couch. Phil’s laughter only grew, which made Quackity just a tad bit annoyed.

“What was I going to do, wake ya up?” Techno looked up at him from the floor, Quackity being way higher up now as he sat as far away as possible on the back of the couch. His wings had puffed up, and he looked quite funny according to the others. Quackity, however, was too caught up in trying not to die first thing in the morning to care or notice.

“Yes! Or you– you know, don’t sit that close?! It’s common sense!” Quackity tugged on his beanie that, miraculously, hadn’t fallen off during his angry tirade. Phil’s laughter didn’t die down.

Techno rolled his eyes and finally got up from the floor, glancing down at Quackity. “Fine, but don’t complain about being lonely after this,” he said, knowing the others tendency to be overdramatic.

Quackity was just about to fight back, opening his mouth to let the comebacks fly out when Philza interrupted them both.

“Boys, calm down-“

“Philza, don’t call us boys, you sound old,” Quackity borderline whined.

“Shut,” Phil shot back with a giggle. Instead of paying more attention to the bickering duo, he went up to get something. He looked almost ethereal with how the sunshine caught in his blonde hair and tousled his robes, wings reflecting the golden sunlight in a way that made him look even more angelic. He soon came back, this time holding something yellow and fuzzy. Quackity had a faint memory of seeing it before, but the memory was buried underneath arrays of new and confusing experiences that he had had in this house.

“For you,” the blond said, cutting through Quackity’s thoughts. He had reached out, holding the fuzzy little thing, unfolding it in disbelief. It was a sweater, soft and yellow. As he turned it around, it revealed two small holes in the back, looking almost perfect for fitting his wings through. All he could manage to do for a second was stare at it, then looking up at Phil who wore a big smile on his face.

“For me?” It was all he could manage to grit out, mouth still hanging agape as he studied the garment, flipping it over as if he were to find something new if he looked close enough. Phil kept up the smile, and if Quackity payed enough attention, he’d see the small smile that rested on Techno’s face as well.

Phil chuckled. “I just said it’s for you, who else?” He settled to sit next to Quackity on the couch, picking up his teacup. “Techno’s getting tired of me cutting holes in his old clothes, it was about time,” he says as he takes a sip as he got comfortable, wings folded neatly behind him. Quackity couldn’t help but admire them and how neat they always were.

With that confirmation, Quackity dashed up from his spot on the couch, shooting up and running towards the bathroom. Distantly he heard the chuckles of the other two, but he payed them no mind, his own giddiness overriding anything else at the moment.

As he slipped the sweater on, he let out a breath. It was even softer when it was on, not at all itchy as one would expect. The light-yellow colour complimented his golden wings, making all of Quackity look very… Happy? Radiant! He spun in the bathroom, looking over himself with an ever-growing grin. Without a further a do, he bounded back into the common area, being met with the sight of an expecting Phil and Techno. Phil looked like a dad on Christmas, testing his kid’s reaction of the gifts with an expectant smile. Techno looked mildly interested, a smile still playing on his lips. That was the only thing out of the usual, otherwise he still sat stoic as ever. Each passing day, Quackity was getting more used to seeing the piglin emote.

“Big dick is back in town, baby!” Of course he had to say something to ruin it.

It didn’t seem to ruin the moment, however. It only prompted the other two to laugh a bit, albeit Techno let out more of a grunt than anything, seeming a bit done already.

“I take it you like it?”

“Yep, I look fucking sexy, I mean I always do–“ Quackity started rambling. It was barely audible over Philza’s loud and unimpressed “ooookay,” but he continued none the less.

However, they both shut up when Techno cut over them after being silent for a good while. “It looks good, you did a good job Phil.”

Phil smiled at him. “Thanks, mate,” he said in his signature voice. Quackity, however, was not going to let it go that easily.

“Ooohhh, Techno?! You think I look good?” Quackity jumped at the opportunity, twirling around and tucking his hair underneath his ear under the beanie for extra effect. “You should’ve just said so! I know I look good, no need to act so humble about i–“ he couldn’t continue for too long, however, as Techno let out a loud groan, which only egged Quackity on more. “I mean it’s a commonly known fact! I’m the SMP’s most eligible bachelor, really.”

Techno groaned once more, putting a hand over his eyes. “I was complimenting Phil– the shirt looks good. I said nothing about you.”

Quackity took it in stride, stalking closer to Techno and fanning his face over-dramatically. “Just say I’m hot and you’re good,” he said in a voice, Phil laughing at their antics. Techno looked like he wanted to slip through the couch or punch Quackity, and Quackity wouldn’t be surprised if he did end up getting socked for his prank. Didn’t matter, it’s funny.

They all fell still, however, when they were interrupted by hasty knocks that reverberated from the front door.

Oh.

Chapter Text

Quackity was hushed away, shoved into the couch again where he wouldn’t be visible when they eventually opened the door.

Phil was hovering around Quackity, making sure the youngest was alright. He sent a glance towards Techno, who was slowly stalking towards the door, securing his sword on his belt just in case.

Phil couldn’t help the concern that swelled up his chest. Memories of the “butcher army” flashed in his mind, and despite Quackity being on their side and having gotten the help he needed, it didn’t mean Phil had to be thrilled at the aspect of another surprise visit. It was clear that his old friend felt the same, judging by how he went rigid and kept glancing back at his friends, extra checking they would be safe if someone were to rush through the door.

“You should–“ Techno started, trying to get Philza to hide, just like Quackity, but he was quickly shot down by the older man.

“Nope, no way. I can handle myself,” Phil combatted, and despite looking a bit reluctant, Techno let it go and turned towards the door, finally reaching over to the door handle, tension weighing down his movements.

Time seemed to move in slow-motion as Techno opened the the door, finally peering over towards their new “guest”. Nothing was visible from Phil’s point of view, Techno taking up the whole door with his big frame. Phil inched closer, which only seemed to gain him a glare from his old friend. The closer he got, the clearer the words from the stranger became.

“–he here? We haven’t seen him in a while and we’re getting concerned,” a familiar voice spoke. The first thing that Phil registered was Techno’s concerned look behind him, aimed towards Quackity who, despite their best advice, had creeped closer into the hallway.

"Quackity? Never heard of 'im," Techno said, tone sarcastic in hopes of discouraging the person at the door.

“They’re looking for me?” Quackity whispered with something close to hope in his eyes, almost looking desperate. Hesitantly, he started creeping closer to the two, probably hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever it was who was asking for him. Phil interjected, planting himself in between Quackity and Techno with an apologetic look towards the former.

Phil could hear the disgruntled complaints from the door at Techno's response. "This is serious, Technoblade. Can you just answer me?" 

Techno seemed to think for a while, looking back at Quackity for a long time. Phil, who had known the man for long enough, could see the emotions at war. Phil couldn’t help but feel the same way.

“Tell Karl and Sapnap tha–“ 

“No, Tubbo, Quackity isn’t here.”

Techno cut Quackity off before he could reveal himself, and the small smile that had teased the duck hybrids face was now hollow, only clinging on, no emotions behind it anymore. It quickly fell as Quackity muttered out a little “what”, grabbing at Phil to get closer to the door.

Phil stood his ground.

“You don’t know where he is?” The voice– Tubbo, responded. “I– I know we’ve had our differences, but please let me know if you find him,” he kept on, sounding more dejected, sad even, as he went on.

Techno stood completely still, not saying anything, presumably just staring down at Tubbo trying to figure out what to do. Phil blanked out as he stared at the back of the piglin, thoughts swirling around. Had Quackity not let anyone know where he was going, that he was going? He could’ve been considered dead for all they knew. Whatever the case was, it was probably stressing his friends out. Tubbo may be the enemy, but it was hard for Phil to completely disregard his feelings. Hell, he knows how it feels to grow attach to the duck. All he could think about was how he would react if Quackity just up and left. The thought hurt.

Quackity, on the other hand, had given up on the idea of staying still. He had seemed to have made up his mind, going from stock-still to thrashing out from Phil’s strong grip. When he looked down at the hybrid, he could see the tears that threatened to fall at any second.

“I–,” Quackity attempted to say, voice loud but dying down quickly. “I’m here, Tubbo, I–“ he continued, even if it was barely above a whisper at this point.

“Techno,” Phil cut him off, beckoning for his friend to pay him some attention. Maybe they could work this out, after all.

Technoblade didn’t seem to think the same.

“We’ll keep you posted, Tubbo.”

He shut the door.

—

Disappointment came crashing down on him, clouding his judgement.

Quackity had been so sure that maybe, just maybe, for once, his best friends and fiancées had come looking for him. Had felt that he was important enough to spend time to look for.

Tubbo was a great friend, don’t get him wrong. They had grown quite close during their time under the Schlatt administration, but it just wasn’t the same. Tubbo had Tommy and Ranboo, and Quackity had Karl, Sapnap, and George. He was supposed to have them, at least. But this just confirmed the fact that he wasn’t as important as he wished he was.

It was hard to keep it together in front of Phil. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to run away from the man, rip away from his still comforting grip and sprint towards Tubbo, or if he wanted to keep hidden. Did anyone other than Tubbo even care to notice? He had been here for a while now, so why bother now?

Despite telling himself that, he couldn’t help but miss Tubbo.

Techno mumbled something about keeping Tubbo posted, then promptly shut the door on the boy. Quackity no longer had to worry; it seemed that Technoblade had made the decision for him.

Said main turned around, looking at the two shorter men with an analytic look before zoning in on Quackity, eyes turning more soft.

“Are you okay?”

What was he supposed to respond to that? No, Technoblade, I am actually at war with myself and feel like shit for ghosting maybe the only person who actually cared for me, just to prove a point to my friends who really don’t even give a shit. The piglin was gentle though, keeping silent and letting Quackity take his time. It infuriated him for some reason. Can’t they just be fucking normal?

Instead of spilling his heart out, he only kept what he could only wish was a level glare on Techno. He didn’t know if he trusted himself to speak without his voice cracking and revealing all of his vulnerability. Instead of an answer, the tallest would only be met with an astounding silence.

“Why did you tell him I wasn’t here?”

A look of pity had resigned on Phil’s face, and Techno was close to looking the same way. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” came the simple answer. And as much as it should have soothed him, it only served to jumble the mess that was Quackity’s emotions even further.

“Tubbo? You– you honestly think fucking Tubbo would hurt me? He’s a kid!”

“He’s a kid with nukes,” Techno said in a gruff voice. “Sorry for being protective, it’s just that you’ve been crying on my couch for three weeks or somethin’.”

Quackity took a swift breath, glaring at Techno with fire in his eyes, trying his best to ignore the stinging he felt. Techno seemed remorseful, almost like he regretted what he said. Almost.

Quickly, he pushed Phil’s arms off of him and gave Techno one last vengeful glance, already striding towards the door. Shoes be damned, he was making a point.

With more might than he probably had done anything the past days, he threw the door open and sprinted out into the cold. The snow instantly bit into his feet, the icy sensation traveling up his legs and freezing him down to the bone. He couldn’t care less. In front of him, a small silhouette could be seen, already far away. Behind him, he could hear shuffling and muffled yells.

He couldn’t care less.

He kept running towards Tubbo, stumbling all the way, trying his best not to fall over into the freezing tundra. His new sweater was making him just a tinier bit warmer, however.

Tubbo seemed to pick up on his approach, and he turned around to be met with the sight of Quackity grappling towards him.

“Big Q–“

Tubbo could barely even start his sentence before he was tackled into a hug by the duck hybrid. Quackity held his friend close, hugging him with all of his might. The shorter only stood, accepting the hug, shell shocked.

“I– I thought you weren’t– I thought you were gone? You–” Tubbo’s voice quivered the tiniest bit, but Quackity could hear the grin in the boy’s voice. It made him want to hold on even harder. There would be a lot of explaining going on, but for now, he just held on tighter before finally letting the boy go. He was met with a big smile, but soon it dropped just a bit.

“Big Q? You have… uh, your back.”

He had forgotten about that.

Damn Phil for making him clothes with holes.

“Oh? Uh, yeah!” Quackity feigned amusement, laughing to cover up his nerves. “Crazy shit, man. They just kinda popped out!” He kept laughing, signalling with his hands as if it would give his story more merit. Tubbo didn’t look all to convinced, he didn’t even look amused.

Quackity let his laughter die down little by little. “Long story.”

“I bet. It has to be if you’re here buddying it up with Techno,” Tubbo said and rolled his eyes, but Quackity didn’t miss the hint of concern in the boy’s face. “I thought you’d be with Karl and Sap,” he continued with a questioning tone.

A pang of hurt shot through his chest. Right.

Quackity would rather forget about his friends for now. That’s what they were– his friends. He just wasn’t sure if he was theirs. It seemed far too easy for them to move on from him, leaving him to cope with everything himself. Maybe he wanted to resent them, maybe he wanted to come crawling back, but instead he just shut himself out. But they never came for him, so did it really matter in the end?

“Ah… They’re off doing their shit,” Quackity played it off. “Probably being fuckin’ stupid,” he snorted, and it came close to being genuine.

Tubbo kept looking at him with a neutral expression that Quackity couldn’t decipher for the life of him. “Alright. I think I’m gonna leave before big man over there skins me alive,” he says, gesturing to something behind Quackity.

When he whips around, he sees Techno standing a bit away, followed close in tow by Philza who had a grounding hold on Techno’s shoulder, as if he would be strong enough to keep the piglin from running away. Perhaps he was, Quackity wouldn’t be sure.

“Just– stay safe, Big Q. We were getting scared, man,” Tubbo said, giving him a genuine look over.

Quackity took a breath, mirroring Tubbo and being open with himself for once. “I’ll be fine, Tubbo. Don’t worry, okay?” Quackity knew the boy tended to worry over him; during their time under Schlatt, they had grown used to watching each other’s backs in case of anything happening, but things were different now. At least Quackity would like to think they were.

Tubbo nodded at him, gave him a quick and albeit a bit of an awkward hug, now having to pay heed to his friend having wings. And just like he came, he left, leaving Quackity to deal with two of the scariest players on the server, or his new friends.

Could he call them that?

Thoughts swirled around in his head as he walked closer and closer to the duo, not noticing how they walked his way to meet him halfway. The only thing that brought him out from his bitter thoughts were the shivers that ran through his body, socks soaked since long, offering no heat or comfort in the slightest anymore.

“You okay, mate?” Phil had jogged up to him, bending a bit to try and make eye contact with Quackity, who just continued to stare at the ground, away from the two.

Silence filled the snowy field for a few more moments before Techno cut it. “You shouldn’t just run outside with no winter clothes on,” he grumbled, staring down at his friend. Quackity sighed loudly, making his discontent very clear.

“You shouldn’t lie to my fucking friends,” Quackity hissed back at Techno, all potential fear hidden, tucked away somewhere deep for later, he had more important things to focus on as of now. “I’m not fucking incompetent, Techno! You just had me hide in there? What if Tubbo needed me?”

Tubbo doesn’t need you. You know that. Schlatt is gone and there is no reason for him to stay connected to you. It’s just a question of when he’ll leave, not if.

Quackity tried to stomp down on the putrid little voice that clawed on the inside of his skull, echoing louder and louder despite his best attempts at supressing it. His mouth suddenly felt dry– his throat rubbed like sandpaper as he tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. His insides were almost as cold as the tundra around him, ice filling the pit in his stomach, yet his face felt burning, something scorching rolling down his cheeks.

Techno had halted, looking at Quackity, almost looking past him despite making eye contact. His gaze was heavy, and it weighed down on Quackity’s shoulders like a ton of bricks, making it hard to breathe.

“We don’t know if they had something to do with how you ended up here,” the piglin hybrid said, voice shockingly soft. It made the shorter want to hide. The comfort was something new and foreign, and somehow, he had grown used to it. But meeting his old friend was like a bucket of cold water thrown at him, a reminder on how he was actually supposed to be treated.

Tubbo’s a good guy, a good friend– not the norm.

“Tubbo wouldn’t– just stop acting like you know better than me,” Quackity grumbled out, already pushing past the two. The will to leave them behind in the glistening midday snow was overwhelming, but the stinging sensation that had now numbed his limbs kept him from pulling through with the plan. Instead, he grit his teeth and stalked towards the cabin that he had grown so familiar along the past days. He could storm off later when he had actual shoes on, and not just pants and…

And the sweater Phil had knit for him.

Something uncomfortable tugged at Quackity’s heart.

He was so sure a truth had been laid out in front of him; his very best friends­– his fiancées, didn’t care about him. No one really did, not all that much.

But a small voice, pitiful and pleading, ebbed at the back of his mind. It was just as soft as the stitches of his sweater, almost like honey, but it made him choke up nonetheless. Phil cared. Techno cared.

The sound of snow being pushed aside as he ploughed his way to the house accompanied the siren like sound of the blood rushing in his ears. Behind him, he could hear the rustling of fabric, and he detested it. Grappling with the idea that they cared was too overwhelming. He’d rather live out the cathartic fantasy that he was hated and play into the role, because wouldn’t that just be so much easier? So much easier than navigating relationships like a minefield, so much easier than accepting that love didn’t have to be accompanied by harsh words and ill intent like Schlatt had taught him.

It was a hard reality to grasp, even when living proof stood right in front of him, even when he shared house with the biggest pieces of evidence against that theory.

And there they were. All three of them, standing in the small house, the home. Quackity’s body was wracked with shivers, clothes wet and sub-zero. Phil and Techno seemed to do just fine, their warm coats hastily thrown on from when they went to chase after the duck hybrid.

Quackity met Techno’s eyes. Regretful (?) red met glassy, enraged brown before he could look away, ripping his eyes from the piglin. And despite refusing to look his way, he could tell Phil had settled a remorseful look on the black-haired man.

“Mate, do you want to talk abo–“

“I’m going for a walk,” Quackity interrupted Phil, voice filled with urgency, raspy and desperate.

Phil’s face fell, blue eyes looking even sadder than before. Quackity didn’t want to reflect on it for too long, instead opting to hurry out the door. After tugging on his outwear– the outerwear he had been lent, he reminded himself, not his– he stepped out into the tundra once again, cold air assaulting the wetness of his cheeks with a new vigour.

And so he left.

Chapter Text

Maybe Techno wasn’t the most in-tune with his emotions, or good at social interactions, or friendships for that matter, but whatever just happened was wrong to put it simply.

He thought it was best to be cautious about who was allowed to visit. Even if Techno hadn’t known Quackity for the longest time, or at least been on good terms with the man, he didn’t want Quackity to return to the state he was in when he first dragged his feet to his and Phil’s doorstep. The bare thought of it made the voices rise in uproar, clouding Techno’s mind in a smog of protectiveness. And if Quackity’s old friends were the reason for how he looked, he’d be more than happy to cut them out of the man’s life for him.

But once again, Techno wasn’t a master at emotions. So when the duck-hybrid had stormed off after meeting a friend– something that should’ve eased the man if he missed his friends so much, it left Techno playing tug of war with his own mind, turning over the situation in his mind as if it were an assignment to be studied instead of a moment to be felt.

Now he stood, alone in the cabin that somehow felt desolate without the newest addition of the trio (when had they become a trio?). No snow was falling from the sky, and the remaining two were both in the house, yet something cold and heavy settled on Techno’s shoulders.

Phil said something, and for a second it sounded muffled in his ears despite his enhanced piglin senses. After manually snapping himself back to the present, he turned to look at Phil.

“What?”

The man sighed with a little smile on his face, the expression not covering up the sombreness in his eyes. “He’ll be fine, Techno. I think…” Phil took a breath that sounded suspiciously a lot like a sigh. “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of his, but he’s impulsive. Progress isn’t linear.”

Was that a good enough explanation? Techno wanted to grasp at the words that Phil handed to him, praying that it was justification enough as to how badly he felt like he had messed up. Unlike usual, however, the words didn’t do much to calm him, and he didn’t have the urge to calm down, either. Maybe it had something to do with how upset his friend had looked, or maybe it was a will and hope to redeem himself.

“I’m going after him. He’ll be cold.”

The reasoning sounded meagre, but it was reason enough.

“I know, mate.”

—

Despite deciding himself that the tundra was his residence, Techno would not be one to deny it had its drawbacks.

Usually, the worry of your rival- turned friend’s well-being wouldn’t be playing into his choice of living situation, but Techno currently found himself far more worried than his brain would usually let him become. Images, memories of how Quackity looked when he arrived at the cabin flashed through his mind, and dread pooled in his gut as he could do nothing more but keep following the footsteps in the snow. It was a small blessing in disguise that it wasn’t actively snowing, leaving the hybrids footprints visible and easy to follow.

The footprints were more like tracks, the person treading through the snow obviously plowing their legs through the thick snow with little to no care about how they barely had any winter clothes on, and how dangerous the tundra could be if you weren’t careful, even if it wasn’t night and there weren’t any mobs, there could always be other dangers that lingered that could–

Techno stopped for a moment, staring at the tracks in the snow as he took a deeper breath. The steam that gently flowed from his mouth in a cloud eased the burden on the man’s shoulders by a fragment, as if holding in the breath was the thing causing him to panic.

Quackity was smart. Techno wouldn’t consider himself so close if he didn’t think so.

Friend, friend, friend, the voices chanted, and Techno found himself folding under the pressure of the crowd in his mind.

The only company he had as he continued his treck was the chitter and whistles of birds flying high in the sky, and the clashing voices in his mind. It was a stark contrast– the gentleness of the nature around him staying the same despite all his inner turmoil, while the voices were fighting a war with themselves, some concerned, others enraged. Even if Techno agreed with them, it did nothing to ease the turmoil he was going through.

But when the voices all simmered down, it was as if Techno had been ripped a little. Anxiety gnawed at him, now only his own inner dialogue filling the empty space the voices had left in their wake. The crunch of the snow under his boots sounded a million times louder as he walked further into the forest, trying to ward off his wretched thoughts. It seemed as if even the birds had silenced their idle chatter.

It didn’t stay silent for too long, however.

A noise he hadn’t known he loathed so much sounded off of the muted forest walls, sounding dull and weak but tearing at Techno’s heart all the same.

When he looked up, Techno saw the bright yellow dot that was Quackity curled up on a rock in the middle of the frozen over meadow, not too far from where the two had been collecting wood what felt like a lifetime long ago.

Frost seemed to snake its way up Techno’s legs, making its way towards his throat and mouth, freezing him on the spot completely. All thoughts he had before came to a stop, but Techno couldn’t even tell why he was surprised. He full well followed Quackity knowing this was the most likely scenario. He followed Quackity hoping he could fix this, somehow. But when he was here, close to a frozen lake, and watching someone he didn’t realise he cared that much about sob so meekly, it made a part of him stutter.

Techno was never the emotional type, that was Phil’s job. They were a duo for a reason, yet Techno had ignored that reason.

“Quackity,” he fumbled out before he could stop himself, legs moving on their own to carry his body towards the other man.

The man in question snapped his head up, choking on a sob and spluttering when he had to swallow down his tears. If Techno didn’t know better, he would say that he felt something small snap inside of his chest at the sight.

You care, you care, you care, the voices chanted mellowly.

“What do you want, Technoblade.”

It wasn’t as much of a question as it was a threat, words laced with ice and venom in hopes of hurting the other. It lacked the impact it usually had, barely a trace of the Quackity from the white house or butcher army could be found.

Techno stood silently, the two staring each other down instead of exchanging words.

“You… It’s cold,” Techno settled.

Quackity snorted, a bland attempt at patching his image back to what would be considered normal for him. “You don’t fuckin’ say. I kinda forgot you live in a fucking tundra, Blade.”

You live here too, went unsaid on Techno’s end.

“… I’m sorry.”

Electricity surged in Techno’s chest, anxiety of the unfamiliarity of it all settling on his nerves like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t one to do these things.

Maybe it was time he did.

Quackity looked as shocked as Techno felt, but stayed silent, letting the words hang over the two like a heavy weight destined to drop any second.

“I thought what I was doing… was best for you. I didn’t know if Tubbo was the one who… You know,” he gestured towards the golden wings that sat on Quackity’s back vaguely, and the man shuffled around so they were no longer in sight. “All I knew was that you looked pretty bad when you got here, and that you need time to heal.”

Quackity’s silence made the awkward mess of nerves in Techno’s chest grow even larger, and only served to egg the man on top keep talking. How uncharacteristic.

“I understand that you’re upset that I would try to keep you from your friends,” other friends his mind whispered. “But you still haven’t told us how you ended up here, so I assumed the worst.” The words were spoken without a single note of accusation, an honest apology from the piglin.

The silence that fell over the two was as thick as the snow beneath them, glimmering and icy in the midday sun. Techno watched as Quackity shifted on the log he sat on, clearly turning the words over in his head. The eyes that normally shone with a glint of humour and mischief were dulled to an uneventful brown, almost looking icy as they made their way over to Techno. It didn’t hurt as much as it unsettled Techno; he had grown used to the friendly glances and smiles. When, he doesn’t know.

Seconds passed, turning into minutes without the silence being broken. The few noises of the forest surrounded them and did little to ease the ire they both were feeling.

“I thought,” Quackity spoke up after a few minutes of silence, and almost Techno wishes he didn’t speak at all. The usually cheery voicy, loud with confidence and determination was now raspy and uneven, and Techno had to really pay attention to not miss the silent words. “I thought it was going to be Karl and Sapnap.” Quackity had turned to look at his lap, still somewhat facing the other despite his obvious hesitance. “I– I just expected the people I was closest to to care a little bit that I just kinda… Disappeared,” he strained. His voice stretched out into a dry laugh, one that grated on the man’s throat even further. “I guess they fucking ran off together and went and forgot me,” he continued. “Some fucking fiancées.”

Techno hadn’t really… known, about the fiancée thing. It wasn’t exactly strange for people on the server to marry their friends, it was quite common. But he never knew Quackity had gotten engaged with Karl and Sapnap. It was hard to keep up with gossip when you lived in the arctic, but this felt different from gossip. It had obviously affected Quackity a lot. And most of all, it was strange that they hadn’t visited. Maybe Techno wasn’t the first place you sought to look for your friends, and maybe he even off-put any attempts to find Quackity, but if Tubbo– the kid that Techno had publicly executed (Techno winced and brushed that thought to the side as quickly as he could) tried to talk to him to find his friend, then why hadn’t Quackity’s closest friends– fiancées, done the same?

Techno suddenly understood Quackity’s rage a lot better.

“I don’t know what the fuck I was expecting, really,” Quackity kept on, a sort of desperate tone seeping into the edges of his frantic rambling. “They stopped caring long before this. I don’t know why I would care that much, I should’ve seen it coming. It’s not like Schlatt didn’t– fuck… I can’t fucking– god.” The duck hybrid kept cutting himself off, seeming to wrestle with his own thoughts and words. His rage came in tidal waves, often interrupted by grief that showed all too well on his face.

When the silence returned, Techno uprooted himself from the ground, slowly making his way to sit next to Quackity.

The log was dusted of snow, courtesy of Quackity, but it was in no way the most pleasant thing to sit on, still. The glistening snow ebbed away to show a small lake, covered in thick ice in the middle of the forest. Sun peeked shyly in from between the foliage of the evergreen, bouncing off of all the white surrounding them. For being upset and storming off, Quackity had chosen a great place to stew. Techno vaguely recalls being here with Philza some time before.

The other tensed a second when he sat down, then slumped in onto himself. Techno just stared at the scenery, waiting before he spoke, mulling over his words. “It seems like they didn’t appreciate you enough,” he said gruffly, not daring to add anything else.

Techno’s perception of Quackity’s “friends” were that they were assholes, really. When he thought it over more than a minute, it made him angry in a mellow sort of way. But it was probably more complicated than that. They obviously meant a lot to the duck hybrid, so insulting them outright was probably not a good idea. But just sitting and listening to Quackity grumble over this would make him feel horrible.

Quackity laughed dryly as he lopped his head to the side, staring at the ground. “They’re not too bad,” he said in a nostalgic and soft way, though there was an underlying current of bitterness to it. “They’re just… They have a lot to do.”

Techno raised an eyebrow. “And you don’t? You were the vice-president and I know for sure you made time for Tubbo, judging by how he just came over to my house to ask about you. Don’t you think you deserve the same treatment?” Surprising himself, Techno spoke easily, words steadily flowing from his brain to his mouth. “It’s okay to be angry.”

Neither of them dared to look at the other as the silence fell over them again, reoccurring and heavy as ever. Strangely, it felt good to say the words out-loud, Techno thought. The conversation however brought forth uncomfortable facts that Techno now had to stare down.

This was why Techno usually avoided emotions. He did feel them, yes, despite how everyone on the server seemed to enjoy portraying him as an emotionless monster, a warrior with no sense of sympathy. Which was wrong– Techno felt many emotions, he felt everything. But it was so complicated to do so. It was easier to put it off and drown his pesky thoughts out with the never-ending voices that echoed in his head. But now he was forced to sit in the silent forest, surrounded by snow and the occasional birdsong and his own emotions, bubbling around in his chest. The voices, for once, were silent, deserting him and forcing him to spend time with his own thoughts.

“I consider us friends.”

The words were out before Techno could stop them.

Quackity froze up when Techno spoke, staring at the ground beneath his feet as he processed the words. Techno had no clue what passed through the man’s thoughts at the words. Hatred? Regret? Happiness? Bitterness? Was that even the right thing to say?

Yes, yes, yes, chanted the voices.

“You do,” said Quackity, a strong sense of confusion settling over the words, the sentence sounding strange and foreign. It was full of doubt, yet it wasn’t a question. It was an acknowledgement.

“I do,” Techno confirmed, and he suddenly felt extremely awkward. What was he supposed to say after this?

“As… your friend, I think that you deserve better. What they did to you was unfair.”

Quackity finally snapped up to look up at Techno instead of the snow.

The duck hybrid’s eyes were wide, filled with deep pools of emotions that seemed to have no end. His feelings danced around in his eyes, face revealing every inch of what he was feeling, eyes misty and lips slightly parted. The only noise he made was a choked up breath, words dying on the tip of his tongue as he just stared at the pink-haired man who had just exclaimed their friendship to themselves, admitted it.

And now, when techno made eye contact with Quackity, it was familiar. It wasn’t cold, sharp, and harsh edges. There were no sharp words and threats thinly veiled as quips and jokes. Gone were the walls that had seemed to have been built so high after years and years of leaving Quackity alone to construct his exterior. The only thing left was the raw emotion that welled up from the endless depths of the man in front of Techno.

Suddenly, the mist in the dark brown eyes morphed into tears, threatening to roll down the man’s scarred cheek if he wasn’t careful.

“I do deserve better, don’t I?”