Don't Know How to Feel.

32. At the Top of the Tower

Quackity's shoes made barely any noise as he walked on the sand. His thoughts were rushing across his mind, almost too fast to think correctly. He didn't know how to start the conversation or what to even say. He groaned as he slipped on the grass, 'God- the rain is so annoying.'

He wiped his hands on his knees, brushing his legs off before continuing. Through the trees he could see Wilbur, sitting by himself at a table. Quackity noticed the bottle he was twirling around in his hands, frowning when he realised it was practically empty.

Wilbur's head shot up as soon as he heard Quackity, eyes going wide. He placed the bottle down and cleared his throat, "Quackity?"

"No way, a wild Quackity has been found!" Quackity mocked him as he sat down, meeting his eyes with Wilbur's, "What will you do?"

"What do you want?" Wilbur asked, making Quackity want to roll his eyes. Instead, he gestured to the bottle next to Wilbur, "How much of that have you drinked?"

"You didn't walk over from Las Nevadas just to ask me that," Wilbur said, a deadpan expression. Quackity put his hands up, letting them flop on the table, "You're right, I didn't. But you could still answer the question."

Wilbur started mumbling to himself, mocking Quackity. It was loud enough to make sure Quackity heard it and Quackity tried desperately to ignore it.

"Wilbur I think you should answer the question-" Wilbur still continued. "-ok, I don't care what you're saying. Just answer the question."

"-I came here to apologise." Those words made Wilbur pause, looking up to Quackity with suspicion. Then he sat up straight, taking a breath, "No you didn't."

"But I did," Quackity argued. "So if you'll let me talk without you mocking me that would be great."

"I'm sorry but the only thing I take seriously here is the business," Wilbur said as he waved around the burger van. "Tough rules. So if you really do want to apologise then we're going to have to go somewhere else."

"You made that stupid rule up just now-" Quackity was cut off by Wilbur, who titled his head and raised an eyebrow as he hushed him. "I don't know why you're saying that."

"You're starting to piss me off," Quackity said with a groan, shaking his head. Wilbur shrugged it off, "Really? What are you going to do about it?" Quackity ignored the question, pulling his lips into a thin line. Still, Wilbur carried on, "Tell me Quackity what are you going to do about it? Because I don't think there's much you could do to me."

"I might just punch you right in the face if you don't shut up," Quackity gritted his teeth. He came here to apologise and all Wilbur was doing was upsetting him. An easy way to get torn off the tracks from what he was actually here for. Wilbur only looked amused by this, blinking with a bit of shock, "Do it then, I could probably beat you if it turned into a proper fistfight- which it just might."

"I doubt that," Quackity was quick to respond, letting out an audible scoff of disapproval, like he was so sure. Wilbur scrunched his face at that, "What? I fucking could."

"Why don't you prove it?" Quackity's arms were crossed as he looked at Wilbur, speaking with a grin. Wilbur glanced around, "Well look, I don't have much on me. Just a stick and oh, a handy pickaxe?" Wilbur's lips pulled up into a smirk as he glanced up from the ground. Quackity held back a remark, letting out a breath and straightening his posture.

"Forget about that. I'm here to apologise."

"You can't here, remember the rules?"

So Quackity stood up, he needed to keep himself on track. He was confused when Wilbur almost looked shocked before standing up as well. Quackity spun around.