You Were Never Meant to be a Hero (Quackbur Superhero AU)

Chapter 15: A New Name

It took three months. 

Wilbur needed three months before he decided 'fuck it, let's give this villain shit a try'. 

Now, he wasn't entirely sure how he should approach it at first. When he first came to the realization that he was genuinely happier in the casino with Quackity, it was...surprising to say the least. 

He felt like after a few weeks of this, he would've eventually had a relapse bad enough to send him running back to the tower. He felt like eventually, he would've gotten scared, or felt unsafe, or have been pushed into something he wasn't comfortable with to prove his loyalty or some shit. I mean, he had killed a woman to protect a literal fucking terrorist of all things. But they had given him time. They had never pushed him after that, hell, they never pushed him before that either. Instinct driven or no, he had chosen to do that because he was protective over Quackity. Because his instincts had basically claimed the other. 

He expected Quackity to get tired of him, to get sick of waiting. He expected to one day wake up and...he's not sure. To not feel safe? He expected to wake up and instead of being greeted by a warm nest and the villain next to him, to be greeted by just...something else. Something that made him uneasy, or uncomfortable. Unsafe and insecure. There was a part of him that wanted for that to happen. To give him a reason to leave. For the villain to do something, anything to justify his paranoia. Despite what he had said the night they made that agreement, Wilbur felt like he was going to experience more regrets and doubts.

He never did. Nothing ever happened. Quackity never did anything to give the voice that sounded like Phil any ammunition. 

He was safe. He felt comfortable. Like he could exist as himself without anyone judging him for his more...chaotic tendencies (he liked the arson, okay? He could admit that, fire was fucking pretty and he's willing to fight someone on that). 

Never once did he ever feel like he was in danger here. Like he would be himself and get reprimanded for it. The training was challenging in a good way, in the way that made you feel like you were improving with every move. It was such a jarring difference from the usual training he had experienced as a hero. He wouldn't feel dead on his feet after sessions or like he physically would drop the second he was allowed. He was sore, but in a good way. The kind of low burn that makes you feel like you accomplished something.

Quackity never even touched on the idea of resistance training. Hell, Wilbur had asked him about it once and the shrike avian looked fucking terrified when he elaborated on what he was talking about. 

"No! Absolutely not! What the actual fuck!? I am not going to purposefully attack your wings or expose them to things that cause massive damage to the feathers! That's fucking barbaric! Who in their right fucking mind would do that!?"  

He didn't really have relapse days anymore. 

Quackity had just seemed...happy once he realized that Wilbur wasn't relapsing anymore. They never really talked about it, just continued operating as they have been. But the shrike avian's mood had taken an upturn. And...that made Wilbur happy. 

The villain never pushed him. 

And Wilbur felt like he could breathe. 

He had made a lot of these realizations within the first month of staying at the casino. He had a lot of time to think, surprisingly. But he wanted to make sure it wasn't going to come back and bite him later. 

So he waited. Allowing his paranoia a singular small victory in this case. He allowed himself to be just the slightest bit worried, and waited another month to see if anything would change.