tw// mentioning of suicidal thoughts and actions
Quackity struggled to stuff his arm into the hole of his jacket, ensuring the fabric was snug before he buttoned it from the bottom up, stepping outside of Pogtopia into the icy winter air. Manberg was a little under a mile away, the tip of the black flag just barely visible over the sea of dead trees. Shivering, Quackity gently shut the door behind him, a sealed brown envelope in hand. If karma was truly on his side, today was the day he would take everything from Schlatt, granting the country what it truly deserved- a leader. The night before, he alerted Schlatt about his arrival, the two securing a time and place to meet.
He didn't remember the walk to Manberg being so awkward, the eyes of the locals staring him down. Word had traveled fast, a sensible tension in the air only mere days after his exile. Maybe Schlatt had given another speech, disparaging him in front of a crowd. Quackity snorted at the thought, it wouldn't be too far from Schlatt's true nature to rub salt in the wound. A small knot suddenly formed in his chest. He could mock all he wanted, but at least he didn't get a public execution.
Sounds of clattering debris caught Quackity's eye as he turned to face his attention towards what used the be the White House. His blood ran cold as a large wrecking ball smashed into what used to be his bedroom window, a roaring fire stirring in Quackity's gut as his favorite project become nothing but rubble. Flinching at the impact, Quackity rolled his eyes, his pace quickening as he approached the stage, or at least what remained of it. The wooden platform was practically charred from the crossfire of the firework, half the curtain cinched from the fire. Sweeping his jet black hair out of his eyes, Quackity gently placed his shoe onto the first stair, a loud creak escaping the wood as he shifted his weight, making his way up to the top of the platform.
Waiting for him at the top was none other than the president himself, standing with his arms folded as he watched Quackity uncomfortably shuffle up the stairs. Quackity narrowed his eyes, the idea of throwing himself off a cliff seeming more appealing than the confrontation they were about to have.
"Schlatt."
"Alex."
Letting out a rather frustrated exhale, Quackity took a step forward, his eyes laser-focused on anything else but the man in front of him. "Listen, I called this meeting because we really need to-"
"If you've come to apologize and beg for your position back, the answer is no," Schlatt groused, judgmentally eyeing the filthy man that was basically cowering before him. In return, Quackity bit his tongue, shooting Schlatt a rather hostile glare. "That's not why I'm here, Schlatt," Quackity mumbled through clenched teeth. "I want nothing to do with you, and it's clear you feel the same way. The only way we can make that happen is by signing this."
Extending his arm outward, he handed Schlatt the folder that contained an unnecessarily long contract. A brief feeling of deja vu washed over Quackity as he remembered the night Schlatt showed up unannounced, paperwork in hand. Each had similar motives- to trick the other into signing their life away. His lips slimmed into a thin line as he sighed in defeat. Maybe they were more alike than he cared to admit.
Schlatt wrinkled his nose as he used his large finger to open the envelope, slowly pulling out the contents of the folder. "What the hell is this?"
"My legal resignation," Quackity confirmed, watching intently as Schlatt held the contract in his hands. "In order for it to be effective, I need your John Hancock."
His mouth twisted into a lopsided grin as Schlatt snickered to himself. "Wow. At least take me to dinner first."
It took him a second to process the ill-suited joke that Schlatt made, Quackity's hand flying to the bridge of his nose. He pinched it tightly in pure frustration, attempting to hide the humiliation that was flushed across his cheeks. "God, you're so fucking immature."
Returning to the topic at hand, Schlatt ran his thumb through the thick stack of papers, his face contorting response. "You expect me to read all of this shit?"
Letting out an annoyed groan, Quackity began to repeatedly tap his foot along the floor, impatience getting the better of him. "Just sign it and get it over with, man. It's that easy, no reason to complain." Quackity felt his throat tighten as he began to rethink his words. Appearing too eager could jeopardize everything. Schlatt may be careless, but he was certainly no idiot.
Raising a brow, Schlatt shot an icy glare at Quackity as he flipped to the first page of the contract. "You're being oddly persistent."
Unbeknownst to Schlatt, Tommy had tailed Quackity shortly after he had left Pogtopia, soon to be followed by Wilbur. Hidden behind the stage, he practically held his breath at every moment of silence. It was difficult to hear anything, but he knew the moment Quackity came running off that stage was his signal to attack.
Their conversation came to a brief halt as Schlatt thumbed through each of the papers, seemingly getting bored around the first few pages. Quackity was about to let out a subdued sigh of relief before he noticed Schlatt became eerily rigid, his eyes narrowing at one specific section in the contract. "Quackity," he asked dauntingly, "what the fuck is this?"
Quackity felt his hands go clammy with sweat, his throat clenching as he imagined all the ways Schlatt would end his life the moment he found out about their little coup d'état. "What's wrong..?" he asked with a quavering voice. Examining his reaction, Schlatt frowned to himself as he continued to finger through the paperwork.
"You have a spelling error," he grumbled. "Page five."
"Oh," Quackity sighed, a chuckle of relief slipping out from his careless lips. "You know, the sooner you sign it, the sooner you can kick me out for good!" Quackity kid, his sore attempt at a joke earning another period of excruciating silence out of the both of them. To his surprise, Schlatt slipped the contract under his arm, an uncanny smile creeping across his face. "You know," he exhaled with a slight laugh. "I found the strangest thing the other day on my morning walk."
Slightly astray, Quackity's brows snapped together as he tried to piece together what exactly this had to do with his resignation. He knew he couldn't push it, so for once, he decided to play Schlatt's game. "When the hell did you start taking morning walks?" Cutting to the chase sooner than usual, Schlatt took a threatening step toward Quackity. Despite the frigid windchill, the room seemed oddly colder than it was before.
"Alex, I found explosives rigged underneath the podium."
Shit.
Quackity's eyes widened, fear completely paralyzing him as he stood in complete shock. He felt that sickening feeling stab at his gut as he realized he was cornered. There was no proper way to explain this without revealing his alliance with Pogtopia, the only logical option being to take the fall or play coy. White as a ghost, Quackity's heart pounded in his throat as he fought to muster up a response that could be his saving grace.
"I...I have no idea what you're talking about," he gulped, his eyes darting around to locate Tommy. This time around it was easier to confront Schlatt since he was wholeheartedly telling the truth- he didn't plant those explosives. The difficult part would be explaining who did.
"Oh, really?!" Schlatt thundered, not buying Quackity's lack of involvement in such a targeted scheme. "Cause I think it's really funny that I find explosives rigged all across Manberg right after our little breakup!" Quackity took a step backward, totally thrown off by Schlatt's incredulous accusation. "Woah, breakup?!" he repeated in shock.
Not acknowledging Quackity's perplexed reaction, Schlatt continued to throw a fit of rage, once again pinpointing the blame on his ex-business partner. "And you know something, Quackity?" Schlatt hollered, the volume of his words rattling the rickety floor underneath them. "It wasn't just the podium. You rigged all of Manberg, you sick fuck!"
Grabbing him by the collar, Schlatt held Quackity less than a foot away from his face, baring his teeth at the man before him. Raising his hands in the air, Quackity felt a lump form in his throat as Schlatt's grasp on his shirt collar tightened. "I didn't!" he panicked. "It wasn't me, I swear to god!"
Tommy's head swung around, the commotion above catching his attention. He took a step forward, but then one step back. Did he really want to reveal himself now? What if this was part of the plan? If he blew his cover, the whole plan would crumble at his expense. Huffing to himself, he made the difficult decision to stay put.
"Oh, right! It must have been the other guy that's on my bad side," taunted Schlatt, rolling his eyes as he let go of Quackity's shirt with such force that it sent him tumbling backward. "Must've been him!"
Speechless, Quackity dusted himself off, his legs spread apart as he prepared to make a run for it. Hyperventilating, he looked around in an attempt to locate the fastest possible exit out of there. He was startled out of his headspace, however, as Schlatt flipped to the middle of the document, holding it mere inches from his face. "And don't think I didn't notice this little line you slipped in!" he fumed as he tossed the contract, Quackity shielding his face from a swarm of papercuts. "I'm a businessman, Quackity! You really think I don't read what I'm signing?!"
In a panic, Quackity darted off the stage, aborting the mission at hand. Whipping around the back end of the platform, he grabbed Tommy by the wrist and the two began to sprint. Running as fast as his legs could take him, Quackity was too distracted to notice he was being followed, Schlatt tailing behind him as they sprinted through the outskirts of Manberg. "What the fuck is your problem?!" shouted the president as he chased after the two boys. Quickening the pace, Quackity exerted more energy into his sprint, sweat pouring down his face as he raced back home knowing one thing for absolute certain- they could not be followed.
"Let me tell you something, Alex!" Schlatt called out from behind them. "If you're running back to Pogtopia, I wouldn't fuckin' do it!"
Those words got both boys to stop dead in their tracks, Quackity pivoting around to face Schlatt at a loss for words. Not only did Schlatt know about the explosives, he somehow knew about their home base. For all he knew, there could have been guards swarming the place as they spoke. As long as Schlatt knew about it, Pogtopia wasn't safe. Schlatt inched closer toward the boys, both their weapons drawn and aimed at the president. Tommy wielded an iron sword aimed directly at Schlatt, Quackity's pocket knife doing the same thing but in a less threatening manner. Schlatt didn't bat an eye as a haughty chuckle escaped his lungs, his bushy mustache curving into a smug grin.
"I found all that TNT you guys were workin' with and I ensured it was...relocated."
Quackity's eyes snapped open, barely able to choke up a response as he felt the air get stolen from his lungs. "What did you do..." Quackity uttered silently. Being met with no response, he immediately raised his voice. "What the fuck did you do, Schlatt?!" His gut clenched as he imagined all the awful things Schlatt could do with that sort of power. If there was one man who deserved no access to such a weapon, it was him.
"Answer him, dammit!" Tommy shouted, equally as frightened as Quackity. If Schlatt meddled with that TNT and Wilbur didn't know, they could lose more than they initially bargained for. Ignoring their demands, Schlatt continued on with his tangent.
"Do you have any idea how it feels to find out that not only did you, my partner in crime, turned your back on me," Schlatt growled, jamming his finger in Quackity's face, "but you go behind my back and plot with a deranged lunatic and his sixteen-year-old brat to destroy my nation!" Letting out a long exhausted sigh, he grimly shook his head. "You're pathetic, Quackity."
If Quackity's previous pleas weren't enough, this moment itself was solid proof of his loyalty. Tommy took a daring step forward in front of his new ally, now face-to-face with public enemy number one as he carelessly waggled his iron sword in Schlatt's face. "Oi, dickhead! In case you haven't noticed, you've been the problem since day one!"
Swatting Tommy's sword out of the way, Schlatt rapidly approached the boy, anger heating his blood. "I don't know what fucked up story you've got in your head, kid, but I won that election fair and square. I did nothing illegal." It was true. Tommy knew very well that there was no foul play in the election, Schlatt had simply found a loophole in their conditions. He fought, pushing hard to suppress those thoughts. He couldn't believe that Schlatt was somehow in the right, even after the hardships he'd put them through. But it didn't matter how fairly he won that election, nothing could change the fact that Schlatt was a despicable human being. It was people like him who deserved nothing.
"How could you say that after you banished innocent people? After you stole our country?!" fumed Tommy, clasping the handle of his sword so hard his knuckles turned a bright white.
"Is that what you think I did?" Schlatt scoffed with ridicule. "You think you're so innocent? What about that big brother of yours, huh? He feedin' this shit into your head? That you're some kind of hero?" Tommy felt like he was going to be sick, his face pasty and green. He could tell himself a thousand lies, but it couldn't change one single truth. In terms of the law, Wilbur was right- he had always been right. They were the villains.
"Christ, cut it out!" Quackity snapped once he caught a glimpse of Tommy, the kid looking like he was about to break down. "Look what you're doing to him, he's just a kid!" That never stopped him before, so what was the use? He of all people knew that Schlatt didn't listen to anyone but himself.
"Not my fault he can't handle the fuckin' truth!"
"Drop dead, Schlatt," Tommy grumbled, darting his eyes away to hide the gloss forming in them. He was right. Why of all people did he have to be right?
Quackity rested a hand on Tommy's shoulder, but he brushed him away. "Tommy, don't listen to him. He's just tryna' get under your skin."
"Guess what, asshole," Schlatt threatened the both of them through a wicked grin. "Let's see how you like it when I blow up everything you ever fuckin' worked for."
Raising his sword, Tommy spoke lowly, his pupils thin and pointed. "Quackity, if we kill him right now, no one can detonate those bombs." Taken aback, Quackity held his breath. He had seen anger in Tommy time and time again, but this was something different. This was wrath, or something close to it. Tommy had that certain fire behind his eyes as he bore his teeth. If Quackity didn't do something fast, he was afraid Tommy would lunge like a wild animal.
Overhearing their conversation, Schlatt shook his head through a dark chuckle. "Yeah, good luck." Tommy grit his teeth- why would he need luck? As if Schlatt would be difficult to kill, his vices already had a head start. Schlatt didn't even try to restrain his cocky behavior, his eyes narrowing in Tommy's direction. "Let's just say," he sucked in a breath, relishing in his ability to have both boys on their toes. "I have a man on the inside."
"Who?!" barked Tommy, not in the mood for any sort of games. Schlatt had meddled in a plan that should never have existed to begin with. Tommy had never felt so powerless in his whole life. If he knew nothing about the explosives when Wilbur was in control, he was completely in the dark now that Schlatt was involved.
"That's for me to know and for you to find out, buddy."
Quackity and Tommy stood rigid, their minds racing as they tried to pinpoint who Schlatt could have convinced to help him with such an asinine plan. All of the sudden, Quackity felt his whole body freeze, his veins cold as ice. They were short a member- the absentee being the one person that should not have left their sights from the beginning. "Tommy," Quackity choked, "where's Wilbur?"
Schlatt sneered, examining the color in Tommy's face as it slowly began to whiten. "Better keep an eye on that one. Y'know, 'cause he's a little..." Raising a finger to his temple, Schlatt swirled it around, flashing his eyes through a manic expression. Tommy's heart sunk- surely he wasn't suggesting what he thought.
"What the fuck are you implying," Tommy growled, his grip on his sword tightening as he stared daggers into Schlatt's rotten heart. Tommy knew very well that he was the only person that was allowed to call his brother crazy. The moment other people started meant it was true, and that was something he refused to accept. His brother was not a maniac. His focus was just...skewed.
"Word on the street is that Wilbur's gone off his rocker." Schlatt shoved his hands in his pockets, taking a step closer toward the two. "It must really fuckin' suck to find out that the one guy you trusted the most wasn't really the man you thought he was." Schlatt's eyes then pinned onto Quackity. In return, Alex folded his arms. Schlatt was always creative with his jabs, but this was crossing a line- especially in front of Wilbur's little brother. Caught in between the provoked and the provoker, he glowered at Schlatt as a warning. "Schlatt, stop."
"I'd watch out if I were you, Tommy." The two were now practically head to head. Schlatt's eyes bored into Tommy's, making him feel weak and feeble as he continued to tear into his brother like he wasn't even human. "With someone as disturbed as him," Schlatt sneered, placing two fingers in the shape of a gun on the temple of his forehead, "you never know when Wilbur might...take the coward's way out."
Tommy's fists shook, his whole body soaring into a fit of rage as the boy swung his sword with lethal force, slicing directly into Schlatt's right shoulder. The blade tore straight through his suit, lacerating his arm. Schlatt's hand flew to the gash as he hissed in pain. Quackity's eyes went wide with terror as he gripped the boy's shoulders, ripping him away from Schlatt's vicinity. He called his name but Tommy couldn't hear, his ears ringing as his eyes locked on Schlatt, the president's left hand soaked in blood.
"You fucking bastard!" screamed the boy as he weakly fought against Quackity, a tear rolling down his flushed cheeks. "How dare you say something like that!"
Quackity's hands trembled, wrestling Tommy as the boy cried out in a frenzy of anger. This time, Schlatt had gotten what was coming to him, unable to be spared by the lack of a bullet. Quackity was shocked, frightened, and admittedly a little impressed. Alex looked at Tommy, then back to Schlatt, then back to Tommy. His heart pounded, twisting the boy's wrist as he yanked him away. "We're done here." Tommy would barely budge, a light shove on the shoulder causing his planted feet to stumble in the opposite direction. "Tommy, come on. We're going home." He didn't have to tell him twice. Tommy immediately broke free, storming off into the thick of the forest. Quackity remained still, watching the boy run off before turning to face Schlatt, his face contorted with repugnance.
"Serves you right, asshole."