Quackity had no idea what was going on with Wilbur.
The hero was way more defensive now that he was fully awake, which he had been expecting, don't get him wrong. What was strange was the fact that his songbird had almost had a panic attack when the villain had taken a step forward.
And the way the magpie avian had flinched was also concerning.
Someone had hurt his songbird.
Quackity was slow and purposeful in his movements, shifting to sit down on the floor where he was.
"I'm serious when I say I'm not going to hurt you, Wilbur," he insisted. "If I wanted to hurt you, I could've done so while you were unconscious. I swear to you, I'm not going to do anything to hurt you. But I do need to check your bandages. If you don't trust me to do it I can go grab my medic-"
"No doctors," the hero hissed, shifting closer to the corner of the bed as he pulled the red blanket up further.
"Alright," Quackity agreed. "No doctors. Though it's not like he's licensed or anything like that. I just call him our medic cause he has the most knowledge on it, plus his healing potions. But you have to let someone help you with the bandages at the very least."
The magpie avian grumbled something to himself, reaching around to scratch his wings as some of the feathers flew off. The villain mentally cringed about having to clean his bed after this. His own molts were hard enough to deal with as is with his smaller wingspan. Wilbur's wings were a lot bigger than his so he's going to be finding magpie feathers everywhere for a while.
Eventually, after a very long staring contest the shrike avian was allowed to come closer. He kept his movements slow and where the hero could see them as he carefully undid the bandages before reaching for the fresh ones on the nightstand. Once everything had been secured he nodded, shifting back from the tense hero.
"Do you need anything? You should probably eat something now that I think about it. I can step outside and grab some food and bottled water for you?" Quackity offered. "If you would rather I just leave you alone then-"
Wilbur grabbed his hand, cutting him off. He paused, slowly glancing back to the other's face. The hero looked almost panicked, pupils shrunk as his shoulders trembled slightly.
"Don't," the magpie avian said. "Don't... just don't leave me. I... I need... s-someone. I don't... I can't be alone."
Quackity carefully placed his other hand on top of the hero's, "Songbird... has someone... hurt you? During a molt?"
The other flinched and the villain mentally cursed as he realized that he had hit the nail on the head.
"Was it someone in your family? Because so help me-"
Wilbur shook his head no, cutting off the shrike avian's threat, "No, no. Phil has made some... questionable choices when it comes to his training but he wouldn't stoop that low. And Techno is just... insufferably perfect in everything he does. He'd never be capable of hurting me intentionally. It wasn't anyone in my family..."
The hero wouldn't really answer many questions after that, which was frankly infuriating. Quackity needed answers damnit.
But...it was something at the very least.
He called for some food and water to be brought up, not leaving Wilbur's side for too long. Slowly, the taller had started to relax, not being as tense whenever Quackity sat next to him.
~Time Skip~
Wilbur kept scratching at his wings as he rested, Quackity reading a book from a chair he had moved to the bedside so he could stay close to his songbird. He glanced up from his book to see one of the hero's wings fluttering wildly as he tried to scratch it.
"You need help with that?" The villain questioned.
His nemesis glared at him, "Touch my wings and I won't hesitate to claw up your arms again."
Quackity chuckled, returning to his book, "Suit yourself. But do be aware that I'm not affected by that specific threat. I'd love to have another spar like that."
"I am not sparring with you, dick," Wilbur grumbled, still trying to reach that one spot on his wing that was bothering him.
"By the way, a few of those talon marks scarred," the shrike avian snickered. "More to the collection, I suppose. Hey, I guess that means you've marked me! Can't truly call each other nemesis unless we've given each other a few scars, right? First time I've bled in years, by the way. Was really exciting at the time. Still is actually."
The hero stared at him for a long time before beginning to snicker, trying to cover it up with a hand as he shook his head, "You're the only person I know who would get excited by being scarred from a fight."
The shrike avian hummed, turning the page in his book as he leaned back, "Well, for me it's something to be proud of. Having a scar is having a physical reminder of an encounter that you survived. They're proof that you tried and that you were strong enough to survive it. I mean, everyone looks at it differently. I like having my battles and encounters worn on my skin. Other people don't because it reminds them of traumatic events."
The villain paused, reaching up to lightly touch his half mask. He felt a smirk pull at his lips.
"I see trauma as something to be overcome. It isn't something to forget, or to constantly be thought about. Trauma is something you've got to look at, and slap across the face while telling it to knock off its bullshit," Quackity chuckled. "You've got to learn to move past it. I still have problems with anything involving broken glass due to multiple negative experiences with it, but I don't let that fear control how I act around glass or if it's broken. It's hard sometimes, of course it is. It's always easier said than done, but working for it makes it all the sweeter in my opinion. Is it a long process that takes a while? Of course. But once you manage to move past that trauma, you'll thank yourself for working hard."
The shrike avian shrugged, "Never forget what happened, be proud of your scars. Just don't let that bad experience dangle over your head and make you feel like shit twenty four seven. Don't linger on it, remember it, and then move on I guess? You shouldn't try to shove it away because then it's always going to be there. Just waiting to pounce on you when you least expect it. You've got to acknowledge it, face it down, and then you move on. I don't know, that's kinda just my opinion on it."
Wilbur was quiet, staring at him for a long minute in surprise.
"What?" He questioned, looking up from his book to meet the hero's brown gaze.
The magpie avian reached up, lightly brushing a scar that was located across his left eye, "Huh."
Now that his attention has been drawn to it, Quackity realizes that the scar on Wilbur reminds him a lot of his own scar. Wilbur's was smaller and more clean than the jagged mess on the shrike avian's face. Probably done with a proper weapon.
"How'd you get that one?" Quackity asked.
Wilbur paused before shrugging, "One of my first villain encounters while I was in training. I was on an internship with a rescue hero in the area and we ended up having to fight a villain on patrol. Guy was using a sword of all things and probably was aiming to stab me in the eye. He only brushed me, thankfully. I'm grateful it didn't affect my vision."
"Oh, pog, was that your first combat scar?" The villain asked.
The magpie avian snorted, "Never use 'pog' in front of me again. I hear that enough from Tommy. But yes, unless you count the ones I got from my spars with Techno when we were little. In which case, no. Definitely not my first. It was my first really major injury though."
"Sparring with Techno?" Quackity repeated.
Wilbur nodded, "Combat scars are something I've got plenty of. What I found more interesting are the ones I got from doing stupid shit with Tommy."
As if to prove his point, he extended his right hand out to show a few burn scars in his palm.
The villain raised an eyebrow at it, "What the fuck did you two do?"
"We were dumb kids who found out what a lighter was for the first time," the hero chuckled. "Need I say more? It was warm and it glowed, so my dumb little kid brain decided that I wanted to touch it. What I found stupid was the fact that I kept touching it, which is why there's multiple burn patches. Tommy wanted to build a campfire so we ended up doing that. He's got a few burn scars on his arms from the experience."
"Oh that actually reminds me of one of mine," the villain hummed, closing his book and rolling up his sleeve to show a large starburst mark on his forearm. "This bad boy was the result of one of my first times making an explosive. I accidentally set off the gunpowder and the thing blew up, leaving this scar. I had shielded my face with this arm so it took the brunt of the blast. The rest of the damage was minor and didn't scar."
Wilbur winced slightly, "Ouch. Explosions are painful. Time Bomb has had to save my ass multiple times from them. Thank god for his natural resistance to them, otherwise I'd probably have a few like that."
"Dude, same," Quackity laughed a bit. "When I was still a vigilante Time Bomb had to pull me away from multiple explosions before I got myself hurt. His natural resistance to them is literally a blessing. Course, now I've built up something of a resistance to them myself. After having your experiments blow up in your face enough times your skin starts getting a bit more blast resistant."
The magpie avian chuckled a little as the villain rolled his sleeve back down to cover the starburst scar.
"Got any other stories?" The shrike avian asked. The magpie avian chuckled, nodding a little before pausing and shaking his wings slightly.
"Argh, stupid itch," he grumbled, reaching around to try and scratch again.
"Itchy magpie," the villain teased. "Sure you don't want help with that?"
Surprisingly, the hero paused, seeming to be considering it for a minute or so. There was some kind of internal debate going on inside the magpie avian's mind before the taller sighed a bit.
"Do anything that I don't like, and you will regret it," Wilbur hissed, slowly holding out one of his wings.
Quackity was stunned before offering a soft smile in turn, "Threat duly noted. I have no doubt that you'd claw my eyes out if I overstepped, songbird."
Shifting his chair closer he gently held the offered wing, scratching in the general area the hero had been reaching for. The taller breathed out in relief, as if he had been holding his breath.
The wing had already lost quite a number of feathers, most of them located among the silk sheets and red quilt. But some of the feathers were more stubborn and refused to shed, resulting in the itching. The shrike avian gently combed his fingers through the feathers, noting the more vibrant shades of the new feathers that were growing in.
Quackity carefully scratched wherever the hero seemed to favor more, listening carefully to the small little chirps and sighs of relief from the taller to gauge which areas were in need of the most attention.
It paid off nicely, Wilbur visibly becoming less and less tense the longer he continued.
"Doing alright, songbird?" The shrike avian asked.
The hero hummed softly, "Just... keep doing what you're doing."
The villain nodded, being mindful of any injured areas on the two feathered limbs as he continued to scratch and preen for his songbird. Seeing the taller avian melt at the care was plenty of a reward. His songbird looked adorable when he was relaxed like this.
Eventually, Wilbur fell asleep like that, breathing softly as Quackity began to shift back to his chair now that he was done. He felt the other shift in his sleep and grabbed him before he could slide off the bed, grumbling something as he started clinging to the arm he had grabbed.
The shrike avian could feel his face flushing as he stared at the other.
Fuuuuuck he's gonna kill me when he wakes up.
~Time Skip~
Quackity dropped a few more pillows on the bed, dusting his hands off.
Wilbur shot a glare at the pillows, this being the third time the villain has brought him more, "Are you done bringing those fluffy monstrosities? You're smothering me here."
"Says the guy that literally built a nest," the shorter teased, pushing the pillows over so his nemesis could arrange them however he pleased.
It was true, Wilbur had made himself comfortable with the pillows. Currently the magpie avian was nestled in the middle of a small pillow fort he's made on the bed. Using the pillows and blankets to build what looked like an actual nest. At the moment, the hero had thrown the red quilt over his head and wrapped himself up in it. Now that a majority of his old feathers were out, he was a lot colder.
Hence the increase of pillows.
"It's fucking cold!" The hero defended.
"I'm really not getting my bed back, huh?" Quackity asked.
"Wait," Wilbur said. "This is your bed?"
"Yeah," the villain hummed, gesturing to the room. "This is my room. Hence all the red and the scattered paperwork. I have an office but I like working here. Speaking of, I should probably start picking these up..."
The shrike avian leaned down, picking up one of the papers on the floor. Scanning over it and noting that it was trash, he crumpled it up and tossed it in the trashcan by the door. Turning back to check on his songbird, he spotted the taller staring at him with a blush on his face.
"You alright there, songbird?" He asked, smirking in a knowing manner as he came to sit back down in his chair.
The other didn't respond, stunned. Slowly he looked from Quackity, to the bed, to around the room. Wilbur's blush was getting distinctively darker as he processed. The shrike avian leaned closer, propping his arm on the bed as he rested his head in his hand.
"Just now realizing that you're in my nest, Wilbur?" He prompted.
The taller pressed his face into his hands, trying to hide the blush as he groaned in frustration.
Quackity laughed a little, watching his nemesis have a small flustered breakdown.
"What's the matter, songbird? Didn't notice my scent all over the place? Considering how long you've been here, I wonder if my scent has rubbed off on you a bit."
The hero shot up, shoving a pillow in Quackity's face, "You. Shut up. Now."
The villain laughed, removing the pillow and throwing it at the taller's head, "What's up, Wilbur? Do you feel like you're mine right now?"
"SHUT!"
The hero dove under the blankets and pillows, various little hisses and curses being shot in his general direction from under the blankets.
"Aw, you're really cute when you're flustered."
"Why do you insist on doing this!?"
"Cause it's fun? And you enjoy it?"
"I don't-"
"Shhh. Wilbur, songbird, mi amor, believe me when I say that you're enjoying it."
He heard the taller squeak at the addition of a new pet name.
"Did you like that one?" Quackity teased.
Wilbur didn't respond, burying himself even more in the pillows.
"Bet you're glad I got you all these pillows now, huh?"
"Oh my fucking god, I hate you."
"Sure you do, songbird."
~Time Skip~
"I guess I should probably give you the full story on what happened, huh?" Wilbur questioned, Quackity currently sitting behind him on the bed as he was helping the hero preen his new feathers. More were starting to grow in so they had to be closely managed to prevent tangles.
"It'd be appreciated," the villain agreed.
The magpie avian sighed slightly, tense as the shorter continued to run his fingers through the feathers, "Well... I was on the bridge n' shit helping clean up an attack. Mr. President's third attempt. Got a call about a potential sighting involving you on the island district and came to check it. Smile and Pyro were waiting for me."
"You should know me better," Quackity hummed. "I don't do things involving the island district."
"That's what I said," the hero shot back. "But just in case, I did want to check it out. I told them it was probably a false alarm and whoopty fucking doo, it was."
The shrike avian chuckled slightly, "Bitter much? Please, continue."
"Right, right," Wilbur said. "So when I got there Smile tried to incapacitate me with his power. I stayed out of his range in the air so Pyro started shooting at me to try and down me. Called Techno while dodging and occasionally taking a stab at Smile via verbal bullying. After a while Techno told me to back off of them and try to get out of there. I wasn't having a good day and didn't like him insinuating that I couldn't handle them so I turned off my coms and started throwing debris at Smile while dodging Pyro's blasts. That way I could stay out of his range and still hopefully give him a concussion or knock him out."
Quackity snorted, "Clever, songbird. Not the turning off your com thing, but throwing things at him is fucking amazing. In all seriousness though, you turning off your coms was a pretty stupid decision."
"I know," the hero sighed, lowering his head slightly as his wings drooped. "But I was really fucking pissed at him and Phil that day."
"Wilbur Minecraft admitting that he feels emotions? Impossible," the villain jabbed, tone light. "But what had you so angry, songbird?"
The magpie avian went quiet at his question, causing the shorter to sigh.
"Please just tell me?" He tried.
The hero shook his head a bit, "Just... I'm just going to continue. So I was throwing debris at Smile and for a second or so I forgot about Pyro since he had stopped shooting at me briefly. His next shot hit my wing and in my panic I started flying. Once I got to the ocean I put the flames out and eventually crashed here."
"How the hell did you manage to stay in the air with your wing on fire?" Quackity asked, shocked that he flew all the way to his territory from the island district of all things.
"My wings are stronger than people think they are," Wilbur responded.
The villain smiled a bit, "I think that applies to more than just your wings, songbird."
The other was quiet before softly chuckling, "Perhaps."
~Time Skip~
Quackity had been working on a new note for the hero when he heard Wilbur stir in his bed. It was late at night, which was surprising seeing how the magpie avian had been sleeping like a log as he was recovering.
When he turned to look, he saw the taller avian twisting and turning in the blankets, talons sharpening as he gripped a pillow tightly. He winced in his sleep, muttering something under his breath while shaking his head.
Nightmare? Was the villain's first thought as he carefully walked over to the bed. Sitting down next to Wilbur, he carefully extended a hand to shake the taller awake before hesitating slightly.
He's not sure how intense the nightmare is, not sure how the other will react to being woken up. He might lash out.
Quackity shook his head, reaching out and shaking the taller gently.
He wasn't a fucking coward and the magpie avian needed help.
"Wilbur?" He said, keeping his voice soft as he carefully jostled the other. "Hey, songbird, wake up. You're having a nightmare right now. Can you wake up for me?"
The hero dug his talons into the pillow he was clinging to, eyes squeezing shut tighter.
Quackity could finally make out what he was muttering.
"No..." The magpie avian said. "Don't... I'll be better... Don't hurt me... S-STOP!"
The villain's eyes widened as he started shaking the hero more firmly, "Wilbur! Hey, wake up!"
Finally, the taller woke up.
He sat up sharply, Quackity leaning back so they didn't crash into each other.
Wilbur breathed heavily, his wings pulling tightly around himself as his eyes darted around the room.
"Songbird...?" The villain questioned, hesitant.
The hero eventually looked at him, and the shrike avian could faintly make out the glint of tears in the taller's eyes. He debated on reaching out to try and get the other's shaking to stop only for Wilbur to lean closer and cling onto him.
The magpie avian was still shaking, wings wrapping around Quackity and causing the villain to freeze up in confusion.
"Wilbur?" He muttered, tone questioning as he wrapped his arms around the taller to try and comfort the shaking hero. "Hey, it's okay. You're not... wherever that was. You're okay. I'm not going to let anything hurt you under my watch."
His nemesis didn't stop shaking, but his breathing was calming down slowly. And Quackity needed answers.
He'd keep it simple. He just had to make sure his songbird was safe at that damn tower.
"Someone was hurting you," he stated, grip tightening slightly at the thought. "Was it Phil?"
Wilbur shook his head in response.
"Was it Techno?" The villain questioned.
His songbird gave another shake of the head.
"Tommy?"
The 'no' was a bit more enthusiastic this time, causing the shrike avian to hum.
"Alright," he sighed. "So nobody at the tower is hurting you, right?"
This time he got a nod in response.
"You're safe at the tower?" Quackity asked.
Another nod, the other keeping his face in the villain's shoulder.
The shrike avian sighed a little, "... Was your nightmare based on a recent event?"
In response, the other held out his wing slightly. He flapped it once or twice to indicate it before returning it to where it had been resting against the shorter.
"Your wings?" The villain prompted. "Does this have something to do with the molting?"
Wilbur nodded again, shoulders slumping a bit as he curled into himself slightly, his various grips on Quackity tightening.
Seems the villain's earlier conclusion on someone hurting the magpie avian during a molt was all but confirmed.
"Someone hurt you during a molt," the shrike avian said. "Was it a recent molt?"
He got a 'no' in response, Wilbur shaking his head.
The villain hummed, carefully wrapping his wings around the other like Wilbur was doing to him.
"It's okay, songbird," he said. "I've got you."
If the hero started crying at those words, then Quackity never saw a damn thing.
...
"Do I get an explanation for all of that last night, songbird?"
"I'd rather not talk about it, but the general gist of the situation was that there was a program for children that came from hero families, a training program. I ended up going into a molt and it caused my performance to dip. The trainers weren't happy about the loss of progress so... I um... was punished for slacking off."
"... Wilbur I need names."
"Ace, no."
"Ace, yes. Give me those goddamn names. I'll hunt them down just like Smile and Pyro. For fucks sake, nobody hurts my fucking nemesis."
"This happened before you were my nemesis though?"
"I don't give a fuck. Assholes shouldn't be training you if they don't know a damn thing about avian-based powers. I fucking hate hero society. Fuck all those stupid training programs. I'll shove a whole ass cactus down their fucking throats. Give me the names."
"You say fuck a lot."
"Because I'm fucking pissed, songbird! That's not right! Why did Philza agree to that!?"
"He uh... didn't know? The only other people that know are Tommy and Techno. Techno because he was there and Tommy because... he's the only one I really trust with my wings after the incident."
"... I'm killing your twin for not saying anything."
"Techno never dies though."
"Do NOT quote his catchphrase at me."
"... Huh..."
"Yes?"
"... Nothing. This is just the first time I've seen someone other than Tommy get angry on my behalf. It was a long time ago, however. I'm fine for the most part nowadays."
The villain sighed deeply at the hero's insistence, "You're not fine, songbird. What those dicks did to you is unacceptable."
"I just need to work harder," Wilbur's smile was painful to look at. It never reached his eyes, the upturn of his lips nothing but a cruel lie.
Quackity realized for the first time how much the other truly was lying to himself.
His newest note ended up being a lot longer than he expected.
His songbird's talents were wasted on hero work. He was never meant to be a hero.
The villain was determined to get the magpie avian to acknowledge that.
~Time Skip~
Wilbur would sing to himself whenever he woke up in the middle of the night.
Soft, quiet little melodies to not wake the shrike avian up.
Quackity had been pretending to sleep every single time.
Fuck, the magpie avian's singing was hypnotic. The villain ended up not pretending to be asleep anymore after a few minutes of listening to the taller's voice.
'Songbird' truly was a wonderful pet name for the other.
~Time Skip~
Quackity sighed, carefully running his hands through Wilbur's freshly grown feathers.
The hero would be leaving tomorrow night, so it was their last night together. Foolish would run his full checks tomorrow morning and if Wilbur was clear, he'd be leaving under the cover of night (blindfolded of course).
Quackity would take him back to the magpie avian's usual patrol route before letting him head back to the tower.
The man in question was currently half asleep under the villain's touch, small talk coming and going as the shrike avian preened his songbird.
With a small sigh, the villain hummed, "Songbird, I have a promise for you."
He got a small, lazy noise in response from the half asleep hero.
"If you're ever hurt," Quackity said. "You can come to me. Societies labels be damned. I don't care if you're a hero, or a villain, or anything. If you're hurting, come to me, alright? That's my promise. I'll help you recover from any wound inflicted."
He kept his wording purposely vague, hoping the other would pick up on the fact that his promise extended to emotional hurt as well.
Wilbur was quiet before nodding into his pillows, "Okay."
There was a pause before the hero added a small 'thank you'.
"Anything, songbird," the villain said. "You're my nemesis. Nobody gets to fucking hurt you except for me."
"Possessive," Wilbur huffed, seemingly unaffected. "Why do you keep stabbing my shoulder by the way?"
"You leave it open to attack more often than the rest of your body," was Quackity's response. "But I'm serious, Wilbur. I'm here if you're hurt. I wouldn't care if the entirety of the hero world was hunting for you, you're always welcome here."
"Villain propaganda," the hero hummed.
"Consider it an open invitation, songbird," the shrike avian shrugged.
And isn't that just the perils of falling in love with a hero as a villain?
You can always trust a hero to do the right thing. When push comes to shove, a hero will do what's necessary to save people. They'll choose their job, their obligation as a hero, over everything else.
A villain will sit there for eternity waiting for that hero.
'A hero would sacrifice you to save the world; a villain would sacrifice the world to save you', as the saying goes.
No matter how long it takes, when a villain falls in love with a hero, that villain will sit at the door to hell waiting for that hero. Even knowing that the hero will never come, they'll hold the door open. Just in case. On the off chance that just maybe the hero will be selfish for once in their life.
One of the first things you're told by other villains when you join the underground is to never fall in love with a hero.
Quackity supposes he's never been good at listening to that advice. But when Karl went missing and that's what sent Sapnap over the edge, Quackity stopped holding the door waiting for them. He moved on.
But Wilbur was different.
With a smile, the villain carefully tucked a brown strand of hair behind the taller's ear and out of his face.
He could see how Wilbur was different from the shrike avian's first two disaster loves. He saw it everyday in the way that Wilbur would pause to consider his words. How the magpie avian was willing to have conversations with him despite everything.
The taller hadn't even attempted to fight him during this recovery period.
Wilbur was never meant to be a hero.
He was sharp, witty, bitter, and petty.
The magpie avian may be a hero currently, but he wouldn't remain that way for long.
And Quackity was ready to hold the door open for his songbird when the taller was ready.
~Time Skip~
Taking Wilbur back had been an...experience.
The taller hadn't been keen on the blindfold but was eventually convinced, although he was reluctant.
And Quackity may or may not have started with his 'villain propaganda' (as Wilbur calls it) again while they were driving to the hero's patrol area. Somehow it had dissolved into a debate about how much better suited the magpie avian was for villainy than he was for heroism.
Quackity may or may not have mentioned the fact that the hero had killed a man.
His songbird didn't believe him from the looks of it, but he used the situation as a key part of his debate. The guy had been dead on impact! How could he not use that in a debate about how good Wilbur would be as a villain!?
When it was time to let the taller go, the villain was reluctant. He really didn't want to let Wilbur leave. There was a part of him that wanted to keep the hero locked up in his base and never let go of him.
But Quackity wasn't willing to jeopardize the trust and progress he's managed to build with the magpie avian.
So he had led the taller away from the car they had driven here in, further into the hero's territory under the cover of night. He pressed his latest note into Wilbur's hands before removing the blindfold.
"My offer is always open," he had stated to the magpie avian as he was moving to leave. "Don't forget my promise, Wilbur."
He almost missed the slight movement of the hero reaching out for him when he passed. But the taller had stopped himself, pushing his hand back into a resting position at his side. Wilbur probably thinks the villain hadn't seen it.
But he had. Quackity was good at seeing subtle movements like that, he wouldn't be a good poker player otherwise.
He turned to give his nemesis one last smile, "If you ever need me, I'll be waiting."
And with those final parting words, he forced himself to leave his songbird's side.
Soon. He told himself, remembering how the hero had started to reach for him.
Wilbur will fall soon enough.