Don't Know How to Feel.

30. What Sam Thinks

Quackity sat on the couch, arms crossed as he waited. He had been on his way to get some lunch when Sam stopped him, insisting that they needed to talk. After a while of disagreeing Quackity complied to talk with Sam if he made something. An easy way to convince Quackity: make food for him.

Soon enough Sam walked into the living room, handing Quackity a bowl of pasta. Quackity took it hesitantly that it made Sam frown.

"It's not poisoned or anything," Sam assured to which Quackity shrugged, "I know. It's just," another pause, "an interesting choice of noodles."

Still, Quackity grabbed his fork leaving Sam satisfied (because he knew Quackity wouldn't talk on an empty stomach and he did work hard on getting the pasta right).

"So, what do you want to talk about?" Quackity asked as he messed around with his food. Sam crossed his arms but he let out a small chuckle, "You actually." Quackity hummed, "Wow, what's so interesting about me?"

"Ok, maybe not you exactly. But your plans for Las Nevadas," Sam said with a shrug as he leaned back into the couch. "We haven't had a meeting in a long time."

"Yeah that's true," Quackity mumbled in agreement. "But what is there to talk about? Las Nevadas is doing great and if we stick to what we're doing it will be for a really fucking long time."

"How about the safety of Las Nevadas?" it sounded more like Sam was making it the topic than asking a question. 'Ok- great. Safety-' Quackity nodded to himself, "Las Nevadas is pretty safe. At least I think so."

"What about Kinoko Kingdom? We don't know much about that country and whether they see as us a threat or not-"

"I would prefer if we didn't speak of Kinoko Kingdom." Quackity's tone left no room for arguing to which Sam huffed, but let it drop. "Plus you don't have to worry about Kinoko Kingdom bothering us. Trust me."

"Ok, great. Now, what about Wilbur? He's dangerously close to us- he's our neighbour. But he's blown up Tubburger twice. Who knows what else he's going to do?" Quackity let out a strange laugh, "You don't have to worry about Wilbur either. Trust me."

"You're saying that but I'm not trusting you," Sam shook his head. "What if he blows up Tubburger a third time? This time, with people inside. I wouldn't put it past him-"

"Trust me, Sam. I took care of him. Don't worry."

"What does that mean, Quackity?"

"I took care of him," Quackity repeated. Sam's brows furrowed as he sat up straighter, "No. What did you do, Quackity?"

"Why does it matter? It's fixed. I fixed it," Quackity said before picking up his fork again. But Sam only continued, "Quackity this is Wilbur. I need to know what you did. Maybe you think you've solved it but he's a bit unpredictable. For all we know your actions could encourage his plans to blow up things."

"Listen, Sam." Quackity tossed an arm to hang over the couch. Caring way too little for Sam's liking. "You gotta trust me. I know what I'm doing and what I did."

"At least tell me."

Quackity faltered for a moment. Acting like he didn't, he gave a half-hearted smile, "There's no need. He'll stop." Sam groaned, impatience and worry taking over his facial expression, "Quackity just tell me."

"What if I don't want to-" Quackity glared as Sam cut him off, "You have to. This is for Las Nevada's safety."

Sam frowned as Quackity turned his head, not saying a word. 'This was about Las Nevadas, why won't he just tell me?' Sam let out a frustrated sigh before clearing his throat, "I don't want Las Nevadas and its citizens to be in any danger. You said it yourself, Wilbur can be unpredictable. So yes, you need to tell me how exactly you 'took care of him'. Seriously Quackity."