Non linear oneshots of Schlackity

Glatt

Quackity tries his best to not think about him and Sapnap and Karl drifting apart. He really doesn't, he loves them so much. And that's the problem. It's almost like they're moving on from him. Away from him. So when they're out, he's also out. Out to a place hes grown familiar with.

The rail tracks dipping down lower and lower and the unsettling coolness hugs him tight. He gets to the cave which is shared by one other person, one dead person. Glatt is doing some sit ups when Quackity comes in and ventures into a corner and sits, scrunched up. It's become a regular visit, which worries the ram.

Glatt. He's not Schlatt. But he's a part of him. He hates explaining it, but essentially, he's all the positive attributes that Schlatt saw in himself. Actual positives. He can still be a dick but he's gentler, more caring. The attributes are amplified because of insecurity and Glatt was born.

At first it took some time in getting used to, he holds more secrets than Dream's mask, but he bears them as subtly as the overwhelming weight on his head. He finishes up five more sit ups before panting and drinking some protein shake. Quackity sniffles and his ears twitch to the sound. A bit too used to it. Schlatt's too used to it.

He goes over to him and sits next to him. Wordlessly. Those are needless, they both know why Quackity is crying and why he isn't talking about it. And Glatt knows how to cheer him up.

"I beat my score, it's now twenty seven sit ups." His voice doesn't echo like Ghostbur's but it has an ambiance of the dead. It feels further away. Quackity snorts weakly and rubs his nose. "Only twenty seven?" He looks at the ghost with a mocking smirk.

"You can't do twelve, shut up birdie." The ghost sneers back. Quackity rolls his eyes and wipes his eyes, feeling the cold slowly not bother him.

Only a handful people know of Quackity's duck wings and feathers, and Glatt finds it amusing the way they help accentuate Quackity's emotions. Especially in these moments.

After short calming down moments, Quackity turns to Glatt in a sickly familiar way.

"No."

The ghost quickly declines the interrogative nature of the Mexican. Quackity sighs and stares at him, searching for a weakness.

"Glatt, you always give in, even if a little, what harm could it be?" Quackity presses again, he always does. He wants to psychoanalyse Schlatt before he comes back. Before he revives him, to prepare. "I don't like it Quackity, I'm not going to talk about him to you. Or anyone."

The ram turns away, not fully, but enough to shield himself from the prying eyes of the other. He genuinely hates talking about him. He hates how he knows everything. He hates how he's curious. "Yet you always do, come on man, please?"

He chuckles humourlessly, the kind of chuckle he tries to loosen up the situation, edging closer to get in the ghost's view. "I could be lying."

"You wouldn't lie."

"Wouldnt I?"

"You wouldn't lie to me." Quackity grins as Glatt sighs. "You know I'm right," his grin continues to grow as he feels Glatt's walls crumble.

He always has this effect, he'll ask about it later. "Just something minor at least, Glatt? Please?"

'Tell him about the train station.' Glatt frowns and shakes his head. "No, I don't want to."

Quackity sighs and keeps himself in the ghost's view, not letting him have any breathing space. "Glatt, please."

'Then tell him about me and Wilbur.' Glatt despises this. But Quackity's big eyes grinning hopefully at him and the reminding of his past and true existence push him off the edge constantly.

"He.. Wilbur and him were good friends in the past. Really close. They erm," Glatt shifted and Quackity took the hint to back away a little to not make him uncomfortable, "they survived natural disasters together. Well they tried, it was complicated I guess. Wilbur invited him over to his house I think.. after the war? I'm not too sure, and they were still close. Tommy of course idolised Schlatt and.. and then he got kicked out. Kicked out into nothingness again. Alone. He was pissed about it, that he was alone again after seeing his friend. And... and then something happened." Glatt looks around the room for an escape but Quackity blocks it.

"Yeah? What happened?"

"Wilbur asked Schlatt to promote his campaign." Quackity's eyes narrow a little at the memories of the election.

"He didn't, it's Schlatt, he wouldn't have. He's always done that to Wilbur, pulled the rug from under his feet when he least expected it. When he was the most desperate. And then you showed up, joined votes, and Schlatt was aware you should've been president. But you didn't step up, you let him take it from you. And.. well. you know the rest."

Quackity stares at Glatt with an unreadable expression then his face softens to ask for more. "What about his death? How- can you talk to me about that?"

Glatt cringes and looks anywhere but Quackity. 'It's the same topic Glatt.'

Easy for him to say.

"He knew Wilbur went insane. He's known him for years. They both went insane at the ends of the apocalypses. Schlatt knew he was going to die but he also knew that Wilbur would die and take everything down with him. Theatre kid and all that."

"Schlatt knew?"

"It was really obvious to him."

"No, no, he knew he was going to die?"

Glatt grits his teeth, his patience for this quickly withering away. "Yes, if not to his heart then to Tommy's crossbow."

"He gave up before that though."

"No he got himself drunk."

"Why?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Quackity sighs. There's the limit. Right when he's close to uncovering something big.

Quackity knows a lot because of this process. But he has to respect Glatt's wishes. At least, when this happens. So he smiles and pats his arm. "Thanks, Glatt."

Glatt doesnt relax completely but he does to the knowledge that the interrogation is over. Quackity knows scraps of knowledge, Schlatt's insecurity of being so bad he can never be good again being projected onto Glatt, that Glatt isn't Schlatt and Schlatt isn't Glatt but they're the same person, how Schlatt liked blue that he would try and incorporate it everywhere until he didn't as he saw liking something so gentle like blue a weakness, that he was anxiety ridden that rubbed off onto Glatt a bit, that he did love Quackity. But he's more than happy to learn more.