depths of despair

chapter three

tw: references to past abuse and neglect, please stay safe!

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quackity's chest heaved, as he finally finished his rant. his fiancees stared at him, wordless, mouths hanging open, tears beginning to fall from karl's eyes. perhaps quackity still had some sense of self preservation, because he didn't speak again. he very well could've, he could have turned to sapnap and torn him apart in the very same way he had karl, it wasn't like there wasn't a shit ton of baggage to unload onto sapnap as well. quackity had a whole list in his head, a list he hadn't been aware he'd made until now, of things he hated about sapnap. he was too codependent, he always put them before himself, he was so quick to give things up for others that sometimes Q lay awake at night, wondering if sapnap would even bother to fight for him if quackity walked away.

he was walking away now. quackity turned his back on the two men whom he loved most in this world, hands curling into fists, and took a couple tentative steps forward, before picking up his pace and breaking into a run, feet slipping and sliding on the wet grass. the tears began to pour now, tears of frustration and anger and rage. he was so mad. he was so fucking mad, he wanted to scream and break things, but quackity had already done that. he'd screamed at his lovers, and ruined the beautiful thing they had shared. he was burning up, his anger bubbling and boiling, he was so mad at himself. the one good thing he had, and he had to go fucking ruin it. and karl, poor, poor sweet karl, with his shining eyes and bright smile. he was such an angel, such a genuine person, and when karl told quackity that he loved him, the winged boy should have no reason to doubt him. and yet, quackity did, every time, and he hated himself for it. he knew karl would never cheat, he knew karl wasn't that type of person. karl was too pure, too good, for that. but quackity couldn't stop himself from entertaining the idea.

quackity's eyes were too blurred with tears for him to know where he was going, and he had no destination in mind as he ran, but his feet had other plans. eventually, he ran out of air, and was forced to stop, collapsing underneath a gnarled old tree, that if he was in his right mind, quackity would have found extremely familiar.

quackity hugged himself tightly, curled up in a fetal position as he did his best to calm himself down. oh god, the clean up for this outburst would be terrible. would he even be able to fix it? what if this was it, this was the end? the last argument, the end to end all ends. the straw that broke the fragile camel's back. his fiancees, the two of them, they had to have a breaking point, somewhere, didn't they? leave it to quackity to find it. the only two people who had ever shown him any kindness, the only people who had loved him in the way people were meant to be loved, with butterfly kisses and wide eyes, soft touches and tightly squeezed hands. he'd pushed them away, destroyed them, broken their beautiful, beautiful love.

had he taken them for granted? was that it? after schlatt, quackity didn't know how he could have done that, how he could have just assumed that karl and sapnap would just always be there for him. obviously, they wouldn't. everything can be taken away, just as fast it can be given. schlatt had taught him that. speaking of schlatt... now that his eyes were clear of tears, quackity took the time to see where his frantic feet had led him.

he hadn't been here in such a long time. hadn't needed to.

quackity was in a small patch of trees, not too far from the old l'manburg. not too far from where the old white house had been. the oak he sat under was curved in such ways that shouldn't be possible, and all of it's branches hung low to the ground, making it easily the shortest tree in the small forest where quackity hid.