Ace of Spades [DSMP x Reader] (COMPLETED)

Chapter 22

CW: the beginnings of a panic attack, lots of swearing

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You stopped.

Quackity had blown up Purpled's UFO?

You hadn't known that before. But it was irrelevant. "I don't see how that relates to you trying to kill him," you snapped, moving closer.

"Yes it does!" Purpled blurted out, the words tumbling over like a waterfall on sharp, sharp stones, "Quackity isn't the angel you think he is, he destroyed the one thing that I had. He even killed Dogchamp. Do you not understand? He keeps fucking talking about legacy, but he doesn't seem to give a single shit about mine!"

"That doesn't justify killing him--"

"It does, because destroying my home was just like killing me," Purpled hissed.

The air was quiet, apart from the pops and bubbling of lava.

Your hands felt like lead. Everything inside you was sinking, and it was like losing a poker game. No matter what, there was always the feeling that you could have changed this somehow.

What could you have done?

What could you do now?

And, like smoke blooming inside your lungs, you had to admit--you didn't know.

"I'm not going to let you kill Quackity," you said slowly, dully, maybe not entirely meaning it, "You can't--I won't let you do that. I don't care what you have against him. Quackity is family."

Purpled searched your eyes, his hands twitching. Studying you.

"You really don't know, do you?" he said quietly.

Your grip on your axe faltered. Know what? What else was there to know? What other secrets, what other things you hadn't been told, what else?

Purpled's shoulders slumped, and suddenly, everything about his tired posture, his messy hair, the way his hands were shaking--he seemed so entirely young. Something about the way that your hands were shaking on the grip of the axe too, and how something was raw and burning inside your throat, and how you were just so tired. You could feel hot tears welling up, and no matter how much you tried to shove it down, bury it in gunpowder, burn it to ashes, they were threatening to spill--

"Quackity blew up your base too."

Everything stopped.

Just for one moment. Just for one, singular, blade-cold moment.

"He what."

"He blew up your base," Purpled said, "it was him that planted the TNT. I didn't know if you knew, but I saw him doing it. I saw him press the goddamn button, and I think one of the biggest regrets I have is not stopping him."

Something curled up in your gut, icy among the fire of your breath. Everything was slowing, like time in a glacier, blurring into words and numb shock.

You believed Purpled.

Quackity blew up your base.

Everything had been a lie. He had lied. He hadn't told you--he'd pretended he would fix it, like he was a fucking angel.

You hadn't known at all.

If not for Purpled, would you have ever known?

You could feel your breath coming out in short puffs, black spots crowding your vision. Or maybe those were just the tears. What did you do now?

Taking a slow, shaking, trembling breath, you opened your mouth to speak.

And then the piercing sound of the prison siren started to echo.

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