Perfect Screw Ups | Quackbur

Chapter Eighteen

A/N: the only reason I'm writing at this point is for that one reader that haunts my dreams 😟😟 /j yk who u are 🥰

CW/TW: mentions of drug abuse

About a week and a half has gone by and I've spent the majority of it locked in the spare room sulking in bed.

I can't seem to find the motivation to do anything. I've hardly eaten and I can't remember the last time I've bathed. I'm literally rotting away and I feel terrible about it.

Quackity has been so nice to me and he's been bringing meals up to my room and replacing the still full plates with new meals, hoping that I'd eat one of them.

The days are filled with crying my eyes dry along with dull headaches. I'd probably turn back to smoking if I wasn't too lazy to get out of bed. The only times I get up is to use the bathroom. I try to eat as much as I can to make Quackity satisfied.

This morning I finally decided I should get up because now I could smell myself which made me aware of how bad I've gotten.

I took a hot shower and stood under it for a while before actually cleaning myself.

Once I got out I threw on a clean pair of jeans and a yellow sweater.

I walked out to the kitchen surprised to find Quackity wasn't up yet.

I assumed he must've went out drinking last night. He was probably hungover. I walked to his room and lightly knocked on the door.

"Come in," he said, which surprised me. I had expected him to still be asleep.

I cracked the door open just a bit and peered inside. He was sitting up and staring out the window. His blinds were open but the curtains were still closed which gave the room a nostalgic feeling for some reason.

It was dark but bright enough to see him. Finally I walked in and realized I didn't really have a reason for knocking on his door.

"You're out of bed," he acknowledged.

I nodded.

"Good job," he said, offering a small smile, "I'm proud of you. It must've been kinda hard to get up after all that time, huh?"

His voice was gentle and sweet, it felt inviting. I felt a lump in my throat and wanted to just crumble on the floor and break down into a fit of sobs. He was proud of me? It really was hard and he's acknowledging that and he's proud of me.

I didn't say anything so after a while of silence he just pats the empty space on the bed beside him.

I sat down and he exhaled softly. "I've been in a bit of a slump myself," he admitted.

I turned to him, listening intently.

He fiddled with his thumbs. "Yeah, actually my mom reached out to me last night. She said that her and my stepdad are actually expecting a new kid. ."

I noticed his shoulders slouch. I also noticed the dark circles under his eyes. He was exhausted and drained.

"I. .I think that I'm upset about it?"

My eyes softened and I absorbed every word carefully. I've gotten pretty good at listening.

"I don't know," he said, laughing slightly and trying to swiftly brush away the forming tears. "I think it might be stupid but I'm just so. .angry. Is that dumb? It might be. But it feels like they've just moved on and forgot about my brother. And I'm still here missing him. Every. Single. Day. And they're just having a new kid? And they'll likely raise that kid horribly too."

At this point he stopped trying to brush away the tears because they were falling at a faster rate than he could keep up with. So he just let the sobs take over his body and he buried his head in his hands while he choked on his cries.

I placed my hand on his shoulder and he glanced at me.

"It's not dumb," I said, "not in the slightest. If that were me, I'd have been furious."

He smiled slightly. "Thanks. I just thought maybe I should be happy for them, y'know? I mean, at the end of the day, she's still my mom."

"Love should be conditional," I replied, "you don't have to love them back if they've lost your trust. You don't need to respect someone that didn't respect you. Your parents were assholes, you don't need to give them the benefit of the doubt."

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. .you're right. I don't think I'm going to go see the kid. I don't think I can handle seeing what happens to it."

"That's fair."

"But enough about me!" he said cheerily, and it was like his entire mood had changed. He was wearing that grin he always had and he'd stopped crying. It was like he couldn't allow himself to be a wreck in front of me for that long. "How're you feeling?"

"My head still hurts. I also think my stomach has begun to eat itself."

"Well, wanna try eating today? You don't have to eat too much, but a little should help with both of those things."

"Yeah, I'll try."

I followed him to the kitchen and I watched him put some eggs into a pan.

"When I first ran away from home I used to live off of scrambled eggs. It was all I knew how to make," he said.

I faced him, watching his back and the muscles in his arms flex as he moved. I became very aware of the muscles on his back and I couldn't peel my gaze away.

He added some strips of bacon to the pan and kept talking. "I learned how to cook from my friend that actually used to work at the diner."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yup. His name was Charlie. He was extremely nice to me when I had first met him. He asked me to hang out and we actually became super close. He was probably the purest soul I had ever met. He was a saint but he was easily influenced by others."

"If you don't mind me asking. .what happened to him?"

He sighed, shoveling the food onto two plates and then popping some bread in the toaster. "Like I said, easily influenced. He met some shitty people and they put some shitty thoughts in his head. Made him believe things that weren't true. They made him feel worthless and I couldn't help him see it wasn't true. He ended up turning to drugs and he got to a point where I could no longer save him. He was like a walking corpse. He wasn't the same pure soul that I had become best friends with. He got into a car crash when he was driving under influence and he didn't make it."

I frowned. "I'm so sorry."

"That's okay," he said, "I think he's in a better place now then he would've been if he were still here."

I nodded and he placed the toast onto our plates and set them down on the table.

He sat beside me. "I lose people that are close to me. But I really hope that I never lose you."

I looked into his eyes, scanning the features of his face. "You'll never lose me. I hope I don't lose you."

"Yeah, I hope I don't lose me either," he muttered under his breath before shoveling the food into his mouth.

I wasn't quite sure what he meant by that but I didn't press him any further. I figured he'd already shared enough with me today. But to be honest, I loved learning about Quackity. I loved getting to know him and I hope that I can continue to learn about him.