Part II
Tubbo gripped Ranboo's shoulders, watching as Dream stared out at the rising sun, sharpening a pair of shears. There was no shudder under Tubbo's palms, no shiver or warmth; they were just solid, unmoving, as if they no longer belonged to his husband but to some object. It was all his fault. All his fault. He'd been so scared of Quackity and Wilbur as a couple, he hadn't even considered this could happen. Dream was free because of him. He leaned over and whispered, "Ranboo... Ranboo, I'm sorry. I never meant for... I should have listened to you."
Ranboo's ear didn't even twitch as it always did when he whispered into it. His eyes still glowed green and red.
"Dream, if you're doing this, let him go," Tubbo demanded.
Dream's mask turned slowly to face him. Tubbo tried to hide the shiver of fear that shot through his body at the sight of that painted on smile.
"No." Dream said and went back to sharpening the shears.
"What do you mean, 'No'?" Tubbo cried.
"I mean no. He makes a much better puppet."
"Is there something I can do to make you release him? Tell me-"
"Tubbo." Phil laid a hand on Tubbo's shoulder, interrupting him.
"What?"
"I need to speak with you a minute."
Tubbo glanced at his husband who sat so still and ramrod straight, he didn't even look like he was breathing.
"Now, please," Phil said.
Tubbo reluctantly let go of Ranboo and allowed Phil to usher him out into the hallway, passing Wilbur on the way. Wilbur who was watching Quackity with a look of chilling dispassion, as though he was anticipating the moment when Dream appeared in the black and white screen and gutted his husband like a fish. Phil stole a glance at his eldest son as they walked by.
Phil closed the door behind them, leaving just a crack open to the boardroom.
"This really isn't the time, Phil," Tubbo said.
"This is the only time we have," Phil replied.
Tubbo tilted his head suspiciously, narrowing his eyes as he looked into his adoptive father's face. He'd seen it look that way before, etched in worry, anxiety, fear. He'd seen it when they'd heard Tommy died. "What do you mean?"
"I need you to save Quackity."
Tubbo looked at Phil like a crow head had just popped out next to his normal one. "What? No! How could you even-? How can you even-?" He glanced through the crack in the door at Ranboo, sitting so still, eyes glowing. He could hear the sound of shears being sharpened. Tubbo looked to the ground. "Quackity did this to himself."
"I know. But please."
"He threatened my son! Did you know that? He threatened Michael! And Ranboo! Everyone... Everyone in Las Nevadas has been hurt and manipulated by him. Why would you want me to save him?"
"Look, I don't care for Quackity much one way or the other. But I saw the way Wilbur looks at him. If he lets Dream kill him, I think it would destroy any part of my son that's left. I don't think he could come back from that." Phil pushed the door open so the crack showed Wilbur, still standing, staring at the screen. "Look at him and tell me he doesn't still care."
Tubbo looked Wilbur over, he seemed completely impassive. A smile played at the corner of his mouth that had nothing to do with happiness. He knew that smile, he'd become familiar with it at the end of Manberg. The flicker of madness. Then he saw Wilbur's brown eyes and his heart fell into his stomach. He turned away.
"But... But I can't leave Ranboo. Not like this. Look at him!" He gestured to where Ranboo sat, unmoving.
"There's nothing you can do for Ranboo right now. Except this. I'll watch over him."
Tubbo shook his head. "No no no no no! If I do this, they'll go after Michael. They'll kill him. You know they will. Just to punish me."
"I won't allow them to. I'll have my crows watch over him. If it even looks like they might hurt him... I'll do what I have to to protect my grandson. Besides, there's no way they'll know for sure it was you who helped him."
"What do you mean?" Tubbo asked. "They literally have cameras everywhere."
"Don't you worry about that. I have a plan. When the three crows pass overhead, you get Quackity and you run."
Tubbo remembered how drunk Quackity looked. "I'm not sure he can run and I can't carry him by myself."
"That slime friend of yours, Charlie, is in a jar in the second floor hall closet."
"Okay..." Tubbo took a bracing breath. "Okay... But Phil I really don't want to do this! If I save Quackity and Dream catches us, he'll kill me, too. I don't want to die like that. Not for Wilbur and definitely not for Quackity."
"Do it for me, then," Phil said, his Northern English accent heavy. "And if not me, do it for Ranboo. Dream's never going to let him go now that he has him."
Tubbo could feel his heart pounding, his breath was coming fast. He could see Ranboo in his mind, begging Tubbo not to ask him to help with his plan to break up Quackity and Wilbur. His fault. All his fault. He'd dragged Ranboo into it. And now his beloved was the puppet of the most dangerous man in the world. "Okay. For Ranboo. What do I do?"
"I want you to hit me as hard as you can. Then run, and don't look back. I'll buy you some time."
Tubbo drew back his arm, but brought it forward gingerly.
Phil caught his fist. "I said hit me! As hard as you can."
"I don't want to hurt you!"
"If you don't they'll never believe it. Come on! Hit me!"
Tubbo drew back and punched, his fist making contact with Phil's jaw.
Phil stared at him, incredulously. "You can do better than that! You either hit me for real or I go back in there and tell Dream that the best way to test his new puppet's loyalty would be to have him kill that decaying zombie-thing you call a son-"
Phil's sentence was abruptly interrupted by his loss of consciousness as his head slammed into a wall. Tubbo stood above his crumpled form, fuming. He rubbed his hand, shaking it a few times. It had been a long time since he'd punched someone so hard.
Phil blinked and smiled weakly up at him. "Perfect," he said, closing his eyes. "Now run!"
Tubbo started in place, as though unable to figure out what to make his legs do.
"Run!"
Tubbo took off like a shot. Down the hall. Through the emergency stairs door. He slid down the staircase railings. Eighteenth floor. Eleventh floor. Seventh floor. Second floor! He raced down the hall. Second floor closet. There were two of those, one at either end. Phil probably didn't know that. He yanked open the door. Nothing! Of course! Nothing was ever in the first closet he checked! Down the hall.
He heard the elevators ding. He was too far from both the elevator lobby and the stairs to make a run for it. What if it was Dream? Could they have found Phil already? The elevator doors swished open. Only one thing to do. He fought to control his breathing as he slowed his pace to a walk and prayed they were guests as he strode towards the elevator lobby. He heard the sound of two women talking and laughing. He glanced at them as he walked by.
One of the women raised her hand like she was summoning a waiter. F-ck. He shouldn't have looked over at them.
"Oh! Sir? Sir! Could you have a look at my bathroom light? It's flickering," the woman called out.
He didn't even work in this building! Not that it would do him any good to argue. He put on his best management face. "I'm sorry, I'm in a bit of a rush right now, toilet overflowing into the lobby. But I'll call the front desk and tell them to get maintenance on it."
The woman seemed satisfied. Maybe it was the stressed look under his phony smile that convinced her he was in a rush. As they turned away from him, he bolted. He tore open the other closet door, letting it slam into the wall and catching it on his shoulder as it bounced back. He was too scared to even register the pain of what would certainly be a bruise tomorrow. If he lived long enough to see tomorrow. He flicked on the lights.
"Tubbo from Snowchester!" Charlie cried from within a large glass bottle that sat on the metal shelf next to the towels. His green face floated in the bright green slime of his body. "Get me out of here!"
Out? Tubbo wasn't even sure how they'd gotten him in there. The narrow bottleneck top was stoppered up with a cork. Not that there was time to try to pour him out. "Charlie, will broken glass hurt you?"
"No, why-"
Tubbo shoved the bottle off the shelf with both hands and spun away as it shattered on the floor.
"You could have just dumped me out." Charlie said.
Tubbo turned to see the slime rising up and reforming as the human-like figure he was used to. "There isn't time." He grabbed Charlie's arm and pulled. "We have to go now!"
"Where?"
"To save Quackity!"
"Why are we taking the stairs? Why are we going down? Isn't he in the penthouse?" Charlie was asking questions at a mile a minute.
"I'll explain later. Let's go!"
They burst out the side door. Tubbo looked to the sky. A crow flew by. He flattened himself against the wall, watching. No other crows. Not yet.
"Charlie? Can you see Quackity?" Tubbo hissed to the man next to him, who had also flattened himself against the wall in imitation of Tubbo. Perhaps just a bit too flat...
Charlie nodded and took hold of the corner of the building. One of his eyeballs sunk into his semi-translucent body and went through his arm to his hand and then beyond the corner. Then it came up again and went right back into place. He blinked. "He's by the Tubburger."
Tubbo felt as green as Charlie looked. "Charlie, are those your eyes?"
"Of course they are. I found them." Charlie smiled brightly.
Tubbo had absolutely no interest in asking any follow-up questions. He shuddered. "Don't ever do that again."
"Why not?" Charlie's skin grew opaque and his hair brown as his human imitation completed itself.
"Just don't. Did you see anyone else?"
"No. Just a lot of crows."
Tubbo peered around the corner, careful to keep low enough to avoid easy detection. His long, goat ears flicked, listening for the sound of footsteps. There was Quackity, still nursing his bottle as he sat on the curb. He had to know what was coming. Did he want to die? What the f-ck was he waiting for?
Crows pecked around the empty street and sidewalks. There didn't seem to be that many. His gaze followed one as it flew up to a powerline with something glinting gold in its beak.
"Holy sh-t!" he whispered as he took in the scene above his head. There were crows everywhere! He'd never seen so many in his entire life! They lined the top of every building and powerline. The few decorative trees there were were black with them. All silent. All waiting.
The one with the gold thing in its mouth caught Tubbo's eye. It flew off, cawing. The gold thing dropped to the ground, making a loud clinking sound as it hit and bounced. Two more crows alighted from the wire, flying after the first.
Three crows. He grabbed Charlie's hand and hoped to hell this was what Phil had meant. "Come on!" They ran.
Suddenly, there was a cacophony of caws and flapping wings all around them. Charlie tried to stop and cover his head, but Tubbo yanked him on.
"Don't stop!" Tubbo shouted over the crows, he could feel the wind from their wings as they flew around them. There was Quackity. "Big Q!" Come on!" Tubbo cried.
Quackity looked at them, then took a swig from the bottle as if completely unbothered.
"Big Q! Dream's coming! He's going to kill you!"
Quackity took another long drink. "Good," he said.
"Good?! Good?! Oh my f-ing God! Big Q, we have to go!" Of all the things Tubbo had expected, he hadn't even thought that Quackity might refuse to be rescued. The birds circled around overhead.
Quackity tossed down his phone. Tubbo could see dozens of calls from the bank.
"He froze my f-ing assets. He got all of them. He took everything from me," Quackity slurred. "Just leave me alone."
Tubbo was getting desperate. He pointed at the camera that was currently being blocked by a solid blur of glossy black. "Big Q, he's watching you, he's watching right now. He's going to see Dream kill you."
"I hope he enjoys his show."
Tubbo couldn't forget the look he'd seen in Wilbur's eyes. "It's going to destroy him!"
"So? How is that my f-ing problem? I'll be f-ing dead." Quackity went to take another drink.
"Oh my F-ck!" Tubbo grabbed the bottle and smashed it on the sidewalk.
"Hey!" Quackity cried.
"We're getting out of here! Charlie! Get under his other arm!"
"I told you to leave me!" Quackity protested as they struggled under his arms and hoisted him up.
"Yeah? Try and stop us."
Quackity vaguely tried to struggle free, but in his drunken state, he was unequal to the task. "Fine," he grumbled.
Tubbo looked to the Las Nevadas sign. "Ok. Now how do we get out of here?" Even with his and Charlie's strength combined that was a long distance to be dragging someone, and Dream would be on their trail soon. But there was nothing he could do. "Alright, let's go." He turned them to the main road out of town.
"What the f-ck are you doing?" Quackity cried. "Are you sh-tting me? I don't want anyone to see you carrying me like this."
"If you know a better way, I'm open to some f-ing suggestions!"
Quackity tilted his head toward the Tubburger. "The storm drain leads to a tunnel that goes straight to Wilbur's lake."
"What?!" Tubbo said.
Quackity gave a lopsided grin. "I was gonna pollute it so f-ing much." He giggled as Charlie used his inhuman strength to pick up the grate of the storm drain. "But then I got busy and forgot. It was going to be f-ing epic, though. Dead salmon everywhere! Could you imagine the look on his face?" Quackity laughed too long and too hard.
Tubbo's shoulders slackened and his ears drooped. Big Q was completely wasted. Hopefully, the tunnel was actually complete. He pictured Ranboo in his mind, sitting so still, eyes glowing. Do it for him, he thought as he helped Big Q down into the tunnel. He hopped down, himself, and slid the grate back on.
It was a long, wet walk through the pitch black tunnel with Quackity between them. All he could do was pray there would be light soon. Otherwise... otherwise he wasn't sure. They could hide out there until dark and then try to get away. But Las Nevadas was the city that never sleeps. It was well lit even in the middle of the night. Maybe if he sent Charlie to get some disguises... Or, they could see if they could dig their way out.
If Dream didn't check the sewer grate.
Now that he thought about it, it seemed like the most obvious escape route. Dream was definitely going to find them. The tunnel was going to end and they were going to be trapped like rats for Dream to kill. He didn't even have a weapon. Big Q probably did, but he was in no shape to use it. And Charlie... did Charlie even know how to fight? He could feel the minutes ticking away. Maybe five minutes before they found Phil, another two or three understanding what had happened, maybe four getting outside. He didn't know how many minutes the crows had bought them. They'd lost so much time on Quackity. Quackity who was currently passed out between he and Charlie.
He could almost hear the pounding of his heart echoing off the tunnel walls.
They rounded a bend. He almost fell to his knees with relief. Light! Finally!
The light disappeared. Then flickered. Tubbo saw a strange shadow on it. Weird, wet, not-quite-breathing sounds emanated from where they were heading, getting louder as staggering footsteps splashed in the thin stream of water that ran between he and Charlie's feet. Something was in the tunnel with them, something not quite alive.
"Tubbo-" Charlie whispered.
"Shhh!" Tubbo could only hope it didn't realize they were there. "Don't move!" he whispered.
He felt Quackity shift. "Wilbur?" he slurred, looking up with bleary eyes. Eyes that clearly did not grasp the seriousness of their situation.
The rattling breath caught. The slow shuffling splash of steps stopped.
Tubbo clapped a hand over Quackity's mouth. "Big Q, shut up!" he hissed.
It was too late. Splashing steps raced toward them.
"Oh sh-t!" Tubbo tried to run, but Quackity fell. He looked to the dark of the tunnel and the man on the floor. Leave him! his mind screamed. It'll eat him. Save yourself! "Come on! We've got to go!" He tugged desperately at Quackity. Big Q tried to get up, but immediately tumbled into the water. He'd leave you!
"No he wouldn't!" he argued aloud, knowing full well he probably would. He yanked at Quackity's arm. "Come on, Big Q."
Quackity looked straight up into Tubbo's eyes. "Tubbo. Run." He pulled a straight razor out of his pocket and deftly flicked it open. "I'll be fine." His body swayed a little.
"No! I'm not leaving you!" Tubbo grabbed Quackity's body and heaved him up so he was leaning heavily on his shoulder.
The creature turned the corner. The air suddenly reeked of decay. It staggered toward them. Then it caught sight of the trio and began to run. Tubbo braced himself, fighting his every terrified instinct to drop Quackity and flee. Quackity's blade wavered in the scant light.
Suddenly, Charlie leapt in front of them and hundreds of shining projectiles flew from his body, hitting the zombie like a hail of arrows, its body seeming to dance frenetically. Then Charlie's arm turned into a long, green tendril, wrapping around the zombie's neck.
Tubbo winced at the cracking sound, grimacing at the loud 'pop' that followed.
"Ew." Quackity said, staring at the headless zombie. Then he laughed. "Sh-t, I'm glad you're on our side."
"I told you, I'll never let you turn to dust, Quackity from Las Nevadas." Charlie beamed.
"What was that you shot at it?" Tubbo asked as he gingerly approached the corpse's sparkling body.
"I was full of glass!" Charlie said brightly. "Now I'm not."
Tubbo could see hundreds of sharp glass shards sticking out of the zombie's body. He took his tie and wrapped it around his hand, then pulled the largest shard from the creature's torso and swished it in the water, rinsing off the gunk.
"What's that for?" Charlie asked.
"These things travel in packs and I don't want to be caught without a weapon again."
"My slime hurts," Charlie said, looking down at his slowly dissolving dress shoes in the stream of water.
"Don't stand in the f-ing water!" Quackity cried. He started laughing again. It wasn't funny.
"Oh, yeah." He stepped out of the drainage water. "All better."
Quackity looked up, as if seeing something none of the others could. "Not for long. We've got rain scheduled for this morning."
Charlie simpered nervously. "Can we go?"
"Yeah." Tubbo said.
They picked up Quackity and quickly made their way down the tunnel toward the light. As they reached the end, Tubbo stuck his head out, improvised blade at the ready, and looked around. He saw a few smoldering ash piles, but no danger to speak of. Behind him, he could hear Quackity singing snatches of songs. He sighed. They needed a safe place where Big Q could sleep it off. There was no way he could travel in this condition. He looked out across the lake to Wilbur's burger stand and Fort Big beside it.
"Hey, I can see my house from here!" Quackity said, drunkenly.
"What?" Tubbo asked, furrowing his brow.
"Wilbur's my husband, right? So those... that's my house, too."
He didn't expect it to hurt to hear Big Q say that, to call Wilbur his husband. He turned away so Quackity couldn't see his face, or more, so he couldn't see Quackity's.
Telling himself it wasn't love between Wilbur and Quackity had been his only consolation. But it was getting harder and harder to make himself believe that. He stared across the water at the humble little grey house dubbed a fort. It was empty. Cold. Who knew when anyone would ever go there again?
His eyes grew wide with dawning realization. "We should hide out there."
"What do you mean, Tubbo from Snowchester?" Charlie asked.
"Think about it, that's Wilbur's house. Dream's never going to think we'd hide at Wilbur's own house! If we can just make it through to nightfall, we can use the dark to escape. Traveling at night will be a lot safer than during the day. Charlie, you can keep watch, because you're able to blend in and you don't need to sleep. Ok?"
Charlie smiled and nodded.
"I can take the burger stand and Big Q can take the house, that way, even if Dream comes, he'll only be able to get one of us."
"One of us?" Quackity looked completely lost.
Tubbo swallowed the lump in his throat. "I would guess the screams would alert the other person to get away." He gulped again. "If... if it's me... Promise me you'll take care of Ranboo for me?"
Quackity glared at him. "I wouldn't f-ing run away," he said. "You saved me. I f-ing owe you for that." He hiccupped.
Tubbo felt sick. If Big Q knew what he'd done with the phony contract, how much he'd fought not to help him, he'd probably kill him, himself. He turned away, toward the fort. "Well, you aren't saving anyone in your condition. Let's get you into bed."