Small MCYT Stories

Turn of Events [Schlattburkity]

Leave it to Shazzam to make me cry with his requests

Part 3 of Act of Self Care I'm crying profusely this is what I needed in life

It's 1:30 am if there's typos or anything know that I'm too tired to care
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"You know what could be romantic?" The winged hybrid asked the president, getting comfortable on the desk.

Schlatt sighed, looking up from the paperwork he had to do, "What's that?"

"So hear me out, you and I go for a nice little walk outside of Manberg? Rest that pretty little mind of yours."

Staring at Quackity, who was prepared to not take no as an answer, Schlatt nodded in defeat, "Okay, that could be nice, I guess."

Quackity hopped off of the desk, flashing a smile at Schlatt as he held out his hand. Schlatt smiled back, allowing himself to be led outside.

The night was perfect. Not too cold, but cool enough.

The two followed the trail of torches placed along the path as they casually spoke. No president business, no vice president business. No business whatsoever.

It was perfect.

Quackity led Schlatt to a bench for them to rest. It was a nice, relaxing moment.

The moment didn't last long, however.

Schlatt let out a scream in surprise, subconsciously grabbing onto Quackity's hands, "Good lord, Wilbur!" He shouted, slightly irritated.

Quackity looked over and sure enough, Wilbur was there, glaring at the two. He looked so tired, so... not well groomed.

"Shut up, sheep." Wilbur slurred, obviously using most of his energy to keep his balance.

"Whoa, Wilbur, you okay?" The president asked, standing up. He'll be angry about Wilbur being near Manberg later.

"Don't act like you care!" Wilbur scoffed, causing Quackity to look at Schlatt with uncertainty. Wilbur definitely wasn't making much sense in that moment.

Taking initiative, Schlatt walked over to Wilbur, "Come on, dude." He said in an uncharacteristically light tone, "You look awful, we'll help you."

Quackity followed Schlatt, taking Wilbur's hand, leading him to his and Schlatt's shared house.

Inside, Schlatt took Wilbur's trench coat, tossing it to the ground for later.

He was surprised at the lack of protest from Wilbur. Maybe he was so exhausted, he didn't have the energy?

Quackity led them to the bathroom, starting up a nice bath and helping Wilbur in the tub. Wilbur immediately rested his head against the wall, feeling strangely at ease.

He felt comfortable in that moment, and safe, warm. It was the complete opposite of what Pogtopia was.

He didn't say much, complied with Quackity's small requests—lean forward for a moment, tilt your head back, close your eyes—he listened to Quackity and Schlatt's conversation.

This was nice... different.

It wasn't long before Quackity rinsed his hair one last time, draining the water and then wrapping a big towel around the sleepy Wilbur.

They took Wilbur to their room, searching for something he could wear while his clothes were being cleaned.

They really didn't have much, but they made it work.

Schlatt was closer to Wilbur in height, so he lent Wilbur some of his pyjamas, they'll have to do.

Wilbur didn't mind at all, as soon as he was dry and dressed, he was seconds away from falling asleep right there.

Quackity stayed with Wil while Schlatt went to throw his clothes into a washer—he didn't say it out loud but man did that trench coat smell awful.

When he came back, Wil was asleep and Quackity walked over to him.

"Not how I expected the night to go." He laughed quietly. Schlatt shrugged in response.

"Yeah, me neither but.. oh well."

Quackity turned to Wilbur, frowning as the thought.

If Wilbur was in such a state, he had to wonder what Tommy's been dealing with.

"Schlatt—"

"I know," Schlatt interrupted, "I'll figure out something tomorrow."

Quackity smiled in thanks, leaving the room with Schlatt to crash on the couch—Wilbur probably wouldn't be too happy to wake up in the same bed as them anyway.