Manberg reunion

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A/n: I'm going to start putting content notes/warnings on the starts of chapters. This chapter talks about past abusive relationships and Ponk losing a hand, there's some blood.

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Karl sat up, confused. It was late. He glanced at the clock on the wall, double-checking where he was -- when he was. Who was knocking this late at night?

Another flurry of knocking broke the peace of their bedroom. Quackity sat upright with a gasp. A surge of fear and adrenaline swept over him, jolting him fully awake in an instant. He barely knew what was happening -- the only thing in his mind was Schlatt slamming his fist on the door, demanding to be let in.

Karl was already slipping back into his clothes. "It's OK," he said. His tone, calm and confident, grounded him. Quackity reached for his fiancé's hand, seeking to borrow more of that strength. Karl squeezed his fingers. "Stay here with Sapnap," he said. "If it's Schlatt, I'll tell him to fuck off, and make sure he actually does."

Quackity was still frozen. Sapnap was still asleep. He couldn't make himself let go of Karl's hand.

Karl cupped Quackity's cheek, taking in his wide eyes and quick breathing. "It might not be him," he said. "But let me check first. I'm just checking, OK, Q?"

"It's -- it's probably not him," Quackity croaked. His heart was thudding fast, and his sleep boner was still half there. The sensation of arousal mixed with a nauseating fear was all too familiar. It came with some of his worst memories of Schlatt -- some of the worst memories of his life. He shook his head. "Why does it feel like I just got caught? Like he's going to run up here and kick the shit out of me?"

"Well, babe, that'll be the trauma," Karl said in a deadpan voice that made Quackity laugh. Karl smiled. He rubbed his thumb over Quackity's hand. "He can't hurt you anymore," he said. "We won't let him."

He can, though, Quackity thought. He can hurt me, and he can hurt you now too, and it's all my fault.

"Fuck him," he said out loud, making an effort to steel himself. But when a fresh battery of knocking sounded, Quackity jumped.

Karl kissed his forehead. "I'll be right back."

Then he was gone. Quackity pulled on his own clothes -- just in case. He looked at Sapnap instead of staring at the door, drawing comfort from his warmth and the peaceful look on his sleeping face. Sapnap had always been a sound sleeper.

"Quackity?" Karl reappeared in the doorway. Quackity's head whipped around. "It's, uh...it's not him. It's Niki."

"Niki?" Quackity repeated. "What does she want?" He wiped sweaty palms on the bed.

"Some potions and stuff," Karl said. Quackity got up and followed Karl downstairs. "Remember that letter I left her?"

"She could've just sent a letter back," Quackity said, sulking. His heart was still beating too fast, and he felt jittery. A paranoid corner of his brain told him this was a trap -- Schlatt using Nikl to get to him. Niki, kind and sweet Niki, would make the perfect Trojan horse.

Which was ridiculous. Niki didn't like Schlatt any more than he did. Anyway, he needed to be nice to her. His reaction wasn't Niki's fault. She couldn't have known what a simple knock at her neighbor's door would do to him. "Maybe we should warn her about Schlatt," he added.

"Karl?" Niki called.

"Yeah, coming, coming," Karl called as they came around the corner. "Just let me remember where I put this stuff."

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