DSMP Oneshots

He Knew

TW: major angst.  I don't wanna spoil anything, but know there is a lot of angsty stuff coming up.  Proceed with caution.

Word Count- 1609

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Wilbur was abruptly shaken awake while it was still dark outside.  The birds was blissfully sleeping and the moon was just barely beginning her descent.  Wilbur blinked groggily, unable to fathom why he had been woken up so early in the morning until he made eye contact with  pair of pitch black eyes peering at him in the darkness.  It would never not be unsettling.

"Quackity," he asked, his speech slurred with exhaustion.  Each word made his throat rumble, like a volcano about to erupt.  "Are you okay?"

He blinked a few times, letting himself adjust to the darkness before he could see what was going on.  Quackity was sitting straight up, his eyes wide and glassy with.. tears?  Quackity was crying?  Wilbur moved to turn a light on but Q grabbed his wrist, shaking his head.  His grip was like a vise, tightening around his wrist as his fingernails dug into Will's skin.  He was bloodless and pale, his eyes as wide as saucers.  

"Big Q, you're hurting me," Wilbur muttered.  Quackity immediately let go, looking horrified.

"No no no, this isn't how it's going to go," Quackity muttered.

"What are you-hmphf!"  

Quackity all but threw himself across the mattress, dragging Wilbur into a rough hug and burying his face into Will's shoulder.  His body shook with sobs and Wilbur could only hold him in shock.  Quackity had cried only once before, when Schlatt had overdosed.  It was a rough night to say the least, and it was the most emotion Quackity had shown up to this point.

"D-d-don't ask," Quackity blubbered out.  "P-please don't as-as -ask, I-I-I  can, can't tell y-you.  I can't!  Jus-just don't ask me, no ques-que-questions, pl-please."

"Okay," Wilbur said, still trying to get over his initial shock.  "I'm here for you, 'kay?  You're going to be fine."

That only made Quackity sobbed even harder, gripping the back of Will's shirt so hard he was afraid it was going to tear.  Wilbur held him as gently as humanly possible, rubbing his back every once in a while and muttering things into his head.  By the time the sun had risen and the birds had awoken, Quackity was curled up in Wilbur's lap, hiccuping quietly.  

Wilbur's worry for Q had only grown in that time as he continued to rub the other's back, staring out the window.  Quackity had nightmares some nights, but they were never this bad.  And he had never said he couldn't talk about it.

"We- we need to do stuff," Quackity said suddenly, making Wilbur jump.  He cleared his throat.  "Today.  I don't care what,  but we need to do something."

"O -oh-okay," Wilbur said, reaching for his phone and opening to the first thing he saw.  "There's an ice skating place opening soon around here if you want-."

"Yes.  When does it open?"

"At nine.  It's 6:37 right now if you want to-,"

"I'm making you breakfast," Quackity announced untangling himself from Wilbur's embrace.  "Stay here."

"I-okay," Wilbur said, getting scared.  "Quackity, is everything alright?"

"Everything is perfect.  At least, it's going to be," Quackity said forcefully, his red-rimmed eyes shining with confidence and conviction.  This was the Quackity Wilbur knew.  "First breakfast.  What do you want?"

"I don't know, surprise me," Wilbur said in a daze.  Mornings were never this eventful.  Quackity nodded at him  and hurried out, banging around in the kitchen.  In the back of Wilbur's mind, he hoped that Quackity knew how the kitchen worked.