Blood and Guts | TNTduo/Quackbur

V

In which Quackity learns it really is a small world.

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TW: toxicity, police aggression, descriptions of violence
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Quackity sighed, his forehead pressed against the steering wheel of his car. His neck ached, and Wilbur's venom didn't work at a rate quick enough to keep up with his appetite.

He'd been bruising easier lately, and he knew that Wilbur could see the purple rings under his eyes, but it didn't stop him.

Quackity found himself in a church parking lot for the third time that week, unable to bring himself to go inside, but still needing to be free of Wilbur. He'd been so... needy lately. Popping up at work, school, Quackity's apartment. Quackity wasn't bitter about their agreement anymore; he was just tired of it.

"Quackity?" A muffled voice calls for his attention outside his window. It's Sam. His mouth was downcast, and he looked almost disappointed.

Quackity was surprised to see his friend, but he was more-so just thankful it wasn't Wilbur— and isn't that fucking pitiful. Slowly, he rolled down the window. "Hey, man—"

"What the hell are you doing here? I haven't seen you in days, and all of a sudden you're at church? Are you okay?" Sam scratched his neck a little, an excuse to do something with his hands. "I mean, it's fine if you wanna start going again, don't get me wrong. This just doesn't seem normal for you." Sam crouched down a little to be face-to-face with Quackity.

"I'm not going in. It's complicated." Quackity had to suppress the urge to wave off Sam's concerns. He knew he was lucky to have a friend who was worried about him. "What are you doing here?"

"Picking my grandma up. She goes here, like, every Sunday, but she can't drive." Sam glanced back toward his van. "I just came over because I saw your car."

"Yeah. I'm just... hanging out. I was listening to music. Trying to relax." Even Quackity was aware it sounded like he was lying through his teeth.

Sam hummed a bit. He drummed his fingers against the roof of the car. "Well, alright then. You should swing by later today. You know. After class or something. We've missed you."

Quackity didn't look up from where he was staring at the speedometer. "Yeah, sounds good." He didn't want to look at Sam's anxious expression.

"Take care, man. Don't hesitate to call me up if you need anything," Sam said gently. He patted the roof of the car and cast Quackity another quick glance before turning around and walking away with his hands in his pockets.

As soon as Quackity rolled up his window, as if right on cue to fuck up his day, he got a call from Puffy. Not that Puffy was normally a factor in fucking up Quackity's day, but she was calling from her work phone. Quackity wanted to slam his head against the steering wheel, but instead he took a deep breath and answered the call.

"Hey, kiddo. Sorry for calling, but we need you at the cafe. We've got a little situation." Puffy's voice came out tinny and muffled. It sounded like she was holding the phone away from her face.

A situation. Quackity didn't like that. "What is it? Am I, like, in trouble or something?" He chuckled anxiously, praying Puffy would laugh and tell him someone ditched on their shift, so they needed him to work the register.

Instead, there was a long pause. Puffy's voice finally came again, a bit louder this time. "I don't know, kid. I'm not upset or anything, but we've got some police down here, so I'm just gonna need you to be here soon. I've contacted Tubbo and anyone else from your shift, too. I don't know if I'm supposed to tell you anything or not. But I'd rather have you come here now than have some officers show up at your door."