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Honey I'm Home

Summary:

The whole place was unfamiliar, and it felt like the walls were watching him, judging his every move.

It was cold, unforgiving. Invisible eyes following every minuscule movement, thought, and expression. And dark, light only coming from the interior of his apartment. He felt trapped.

It was almost unbearable, leaving him standing in visible discomfort, anxiety seeping into his veins once again.

“You went quiet again,” Karl’s voice ripped Quackity from his thoughts, forcing himself to look at the box in front of him again.

“I’m okay, just… need some sleep.” Quackity winced as he heard Karl shift in his seat, obviously unconvinced.

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Or; another stalking fic.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter Text

For most, moving into a new house or living arrangement is usually exciting; a new adventure waiting just for them. Even if it’s just a dingy apartment, it’d be their own to do as they pleased. Independence or just a change of scenery was normally exciting. 

 

Not for Quackity. It was more of an escape, a nervous change and an escape from a failing relationship — in short, it was simply sad. Sad in the best way possible, or as best as it can be when you’re moving in completely alone at eleven at night. 

 

Well, if being on a phone call the entire time counted, then he wasn’t actually alone. Physically he was, and that was the unsettling part. 

 

“You there?” a voice rang out uncertainly from the other end of the line; Karl had promised Quackity that he’d stay on the call for as long as he needed. He knew how important it was to him. He was honestly worried — had been for months.

 

If Karl had it his way, Quackity would be sitting next to him and staying with Sapnap and himself, but Quackity was stubborn; he always had been. His need to be independent outweighed his want for peace. Karl could see why too.

 

“Yeah, I am,” Quackity answered, he spoke quietly, as if he didn’t want to be heard. Karl tutted on the other end. 

 

Quackity pressed the phone to his ear with his shoulder, carrying one of the boxes and lifting it onto the kitchen bench. He was sure this box had his crockery and glasses this time, he’d gotten distracted before and put some boxes in the wrong places when he’d unpacked them off the truck. 

 

He ripped the top of the box open, listening to Karl breathe through the phone. 

 

“Oh fuck,” Quackity mumbled, pulling out a whiskey decanter he’d never use, it was technically his, he had bought it. Taking it back was more a weak attempt at a ‘fuck you’ to Schlatt; a pitiful attempt at proving his worth to the other man, in truth he had only proved how much of a nuisance he was. The fucker probably wouldn’t care either way, not yet anyway.

 

“You should unpack tomorrow, just bring the last boxes in and go to sleep, Q.” Karl yawned, Quackity could vaguely hear Sapnap in the background, faintly yelling something, likely at a game or perhaps he was on a call too. 

 

Sapnap was always rowdy, and visited Quackity regularly when they had lived closer together, normally to steal food, or borrow other items. If Quackity couldn’t find something, it was very likely Sapnap had it.

 

His eyes flicked around the room, fidgeting with the keys he’d had in a tight grip for the past five minutes. The whole place was unfamiliar, and it felt like the walls were watching him, judging his every move. 

 

It was cold, unforgiving. Invisible eyes following every minuscule movement, thought, and expression. And it was dark, light only coming from the interior of his apartment. He felt trapped.

 

It was almost unbearable, leaving him standing in visible discomfort, anxiety seeping into his veins once again. 

 

“You went quiet again,” Karl’s voice ripped Quackity from his thoughts, forcing himself to look at the box in front of him again. 

 

“I’m okay, just… need some sleep.” Quackity winced as he heard Karl shift in his seat, obviously unconvinced. Karl was always difficult to appease, and still was now.

 

Quackity hummed to himself, shutting the external and internal blinds as he walked around quietly, sticking to the kitchen and adjacent lounge room. 

 

He didn’t like this apartment yet. Karl could feel his unease seeping into the phone, consuming and enveloping Quackity’s entire mind. He wasn’t usually like this, he normally wouldn’t care less about something as significant as moving — but Quackity hadn’t been normal for a while.

 

Karl cleared his throat into the receiver, before leaning away from the speaker and yelling something at Sapnap, who’d gotten really loud suddenly. Sapnap screeched something incomprehensible back, before quieting down again.

 

Quackity couldn’t help but smile at their bickering. They were never very compatible roommates, Karl was far more responsible than Sapnap ever had been. Taking a deep breath, Quackity walked back into the kitchen, toeing one of the boxes with his foot — as if it might bite his ankle as he walked past.

 

He leaned down into the same box, spotting a smaller box inside it. It was decently heavy in his hands. He'd forgotten about taking that out of spite too; Opening the box to glance at the smooth and shiny weapon's barrel, A small handgun. He placed the box on the kitchen counter to put away later.

 

The room felt warm, a little humid even, Quackity constantly wiping his damp palms on his pants and shirt.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want me over for a couple of days?” Karl brought the phone back up to his ear, interrupting Quackity’s thoughts again.

 

“Sapnap wouldn’t survive and you know that,” Quackiy smiled more genuinely, trying to convince Karl that he was fine, while still avoiding the question.

 

“He can starve then,” Karl suppressed a chuckle. Quackity almost relaxed, opening his mouth to insult Karl snarkily for being a bad roommate before he froze; hearing a low and heavy creak. He might've missed it if either he or Karl had been talking. 

 

His cat was still waiting to be picked up tomorrow.

 

The walls had eyes again.

 

“Hang on for a second,” Quackity bit his lip, pulling the phone away from his ear before he could hear Karl protest into the speaker. He stepped forward quietly, listening for confirmation — anything to tell him he hadn’t made the sound up.

 

But nothing came. Quackity slowly lifted his phone back up to his ear, only to be met with a distressed-sounding Karl.

 

“It’s fine, I just thought I heard something,” Quackity assured the other, who went on to berate him again, then assuring him that everything was fine, and he was just nervous about moving in. Karl was always good a distracting Quackity, and he really needed it right now. He could hardly breathe through his paranoia — it’d fade over time, but it still felt like the apartment was judging his every move and word.

 

Karl was well aware that Quackity was being paranoid, even if he would never outwardly admit it.

 

“So when’s the cat getting picked up?” Karl asked, moving the conversation away from anything worrisome. 

 

“Tomorrow, he won’t like me for leaving him so long,” Quackit hummed absentmindedly, finally deciding to walk to his bedroom, knowing he should rest before unpacking tomorrow. He hated the idea of sleeping in an unfamiliar house and room, locking the window as Karl rattled on about Sapnap’s latest nasty habit. It was something along the lines of burning food and failing to do his own laundry. 

 

At least Sapnap didn’t drink.

 

He was simply just averagely unsanitary, and Karl was a bit of a clean freak compared to him. They both balanced each other out well though, despite Karl’s annoyance at his lack of cleanliness. He’d seen Karl grill him over dirty plates before, it was a sight to witness — Sapnap standing awkwardly with a week's worth of dishes in his hands, making the walk of shame to the dishwasher as Karl chewed him out about it again.


Quackity looked out the window, he could see the apartment building next door through it; an unfortunate view. He didn’t truly care for the prettiness of the view from his window though. There was a fire escape ladder on the window next door to his, nice to know when you lived on the eleventh floor. 

 

He assumed the fire escape was linked to the bathroom window, since that was next to the bedroom.

 

The window didn't have blinds installed on the inside for some reason, but had an automatic one on the outside. He’d have to find the remote for that tomorrow. 

 

“Do you want me to stay on the line until you fall asleep?” Karl asked rather loudly, grabbing Quackity’s attention again. 

 

“No, I’ll be fine. I’ll text you in the morning.” Quackity licked his dry lips, eyes flicking to the window again. 

 

“Okay, I’ll be waiting,” Karl said in a sing-songy tone, making Quackity smile just a little bit.

 

“Yeah, yeah, night, you dumbass.” Quackity let Karl say his goodbyes, before hanging up, shoving the charger cord into his phone before changing into sweats and a singlet, climbing into the cold sheets. 

 

He hated how quiet it was now Karl was gone.

 

Quackity didn’t realise it now; but it was peaceful here, light from the other buildings filtering through his window and faintly lighting up his surroundings, it was pretty, despite the emptiness of the room — the only thing in it other than the bed being cardboard boxes full of clothes.

 

Sleep wasn’t going to come easy, a fact Quackity had to accept as he lay in his bed, staring at the wall. He wanted to silence his mind more than anything, waiting for the sweet release of sleep.

 

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“Show me the kitchen. Right now!” Karl giggled, ordering Quackity to turn the phone around and tour his apartment to him. He was still in his pyjamas, constantly blowing black hair out of his face as he ran around the apartment, showing Karl every nook and cranny he could reach.

 

Quackity stifled a laugh as he turned around, phone outstretched in his arms. Karl inspected everything as if he was a judge in some sort of apartment competition. It was frankly ridiculous; but was efficient in warming Quackity up to his new home. 

 

He seemed far more comfortable than he had been last night, and he was. He had spent the morning unpacking belongings and sorting his plates and kitchenware out while Karl rambled at him happily the entire time. 

 

The place almost looked presentable, and definitely far more homely now. 

 

Sapnap had ducked into the call a couple of times to insult Quackity’s decorating choices, only to be met with snarky insults from Karl and Quackity. He’d shrugged it off and watched for a bit until he felt he had others things to do.

 

Quackity laughed while Karl absolutely chewed out his kitchen, insulting every single imperfection. He felt at ease, the apartment feeling much more welcoming in daylight. 

 

He stood on an empty and flattened box, showing Karl the cabinets as they both giggled furiously. They’d been goofing around for almost half an hour. Karl knew exactly what he was doing, and was glad it was working the way he had intended it to. Quackity needed the break, whether he’d say it or not.

 

Light filtered in through the windows, lighting up the apartment softly, and leaving warm spots where it sat on the wood flooring and carpet. Quackity ran a hand through his hair, smiling at Karl's over-dramatic expressions and genuine smile, it felt normal and easy again. 

 

He considered Karl and Sapnap’s offer again, maybe he shouldve just moved in with them. It wouldn’t be boring, and he could screw around with them in person. That sounded wonderful; but he was here now, and in the daylight, the apartment revealed its perks and niceties he’d missed in the anxiousness of last night.

 

“Quit insulting my cupboards,” Quackity chuckled, unable to suppress his smile as Karl made an overdramatic attempt at looking offended. 

 

Maybe things would get better from now on, he hadn’t been able to laugh like this for months, and it was refreshing to finally enjoy himself again. 

 

He watched his phone screen for a minute, Karl had a window open, light filtering into his hair and face as he continued to goof around. He went to push his hair out of his face and back into his beanie, before realising he didn’t have it on, patting his bare head.

 

“I forgot my beanie,” He laughed, flipping the camera around for Karl again. 

 

“I was wondering when you’d notice that.” Karl snickered deviously; as if he’d just lied to a teacher and gotten away with it. 

 

Quackity rolled his eyes at his equally childish friend, walking to his bedroom to go get the beanie. He made his bed while he was at it, and then pulled the blue LAFD beanie on. 

 

There had been no other choice but to wake up when the sun rose this morning —  the lack of blinds let the sunlight burn his eyes out as soon as it was bright enough outside. Karl had called him twice soon after, leaving increasingly uncomfortable and gross voicemails when Quackity didn’t pick up. 

 

It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing Karl called, just another reason to be forced out of bed and start his day by trying to locate the exterior blind’s remote. He didn’t find it, and decided to simply ask the front desk later in the day. 

 

He had complained to Karl about his shitty view from his window, pointing to the other apartment. Karl had agreed, and laughed his ass off about it. Imagine being on the eleventh floor just to have another apartment building block any decent view. At least his balcony area was on the corner, and he could see the park from there.

 

It didn’t help that the other apartment complex was obviously old and rather dirty, and kind of ugly. It had been the cheaper option, and Quackity would’ve moved into it if it had any vacancies in the nicer apartments. 

 

Fortunately for him, the only one he liked had a bathroom from the floor above collapse into its kitchen. 

 

This apartment was far nicer anyway. 

 

“When do you have to pick up the cat anyway?” Karl asked, picking at his fingernails. Quackity stared at him for a second, before snatching a shirt off the bed and tugging it on hurriedly. Karl laughed hysterically as he watched Quackity rush around the room, jumping into a presentable pair of pants and digging through a box to find a jumper.

 

“You’re an ass, Karl.” Quackity hissed, Karl giggling furiously as he grabbed his phone and keys, shoving on the first pair of shoes he saw and running to the door. 

 

He still had the right mind to properly lock his apartment before running down the stairs. He had a bus to catch, and was going to be late at this rate. 

 

Buses were dirty, ugly, and crowded. No matter what the time was or how long the distance, they always provided discomfort for Quackity. So many people, standing, sitting, chatting, and crowding the vehicle. It was uncomfortable in every aspect.

 

Not that he had much of a choice but to take the bus though. He didn’t have a car, and couldn’t afford one just yet anyway. That reminded him; he needed to find a new job as soon as he could.

 

He sat rigidly, pet carrier on his lap. The cat in question was even less happy to be on a public bus than Quackity was. He was going to require a lot of food to please the bastard and earn his forgiveness when they got home. 

 

The cat was unceremoniously named Candlestick — as it was the first thing he knocked over when he was adopted. Since then he had taken it upon himself to be the most dastardly cat to ever exist. Or at least it felt like that to Quackity. 

 

No matter how annoying Candlestick was, Quackity loved him anyway — but not to the point where the cat had him wrapped around his paw.

 

Currently, Candlestick was sitting resentfully in the pet carrier, beyond mad that he’d been left at the kennel for almost a week while Quackity moved. Quackity was well aware that Candlestick hated him for it, but it was either that or leaving him at Schlatt’s. And Quackity just couldn’t do that to him.

 

“I know, but you would’ve hated me more if I left you behind,” He muttered to the cat, who was attempting to stick his paw through the wire door, likely to try to show Quackity how he really felt about all this.

 

Quackity’s leg bounced erratically as he waited for his stop. It had to only be five minutes away at most. But it felt so much longer. He just wanted to get off the vehicle and leave. He’d already wasted more unpacking time than he’d have liked — Candlestick didn’t exactly make it easy for the poor girl working at the kennel to go fetch him. 

 

Quackity had tipped her generously, despite taking fifteen minutes to return with his cat. He knew it wasn’t her fault though. The fact the cat was even still alive today was a miracle. Schlatt had hated him, and it seemed like the feeling was mutual. 

 

Candlestick had never liked Schlatt, when Quackity thought about it; the cat had hated him from the second he met the man.

 

How ironic. 

 

Quackity looked back out the window, there was a post office and a florist next to each other across the road from where the bus next stopped. The florist looked like it was a small business, with too many plants and not enough room for them. The building was practically overflowing with colour and foliage. 

 

He recognised a few different flowers, but it seemed like the place had everything ranging from the usual lilies and roses to more exotic flowers such as banksias, as well as garden flowers like violets and pansies tied up in dainty little bouquets. I was very appealing, he had to admit — despite not being a garden person himself.

 

Maybe he’d have a look a the place at some point. Maybe when Karl got around to visiting one day. 

 

Quackity soon forgot about the floristry when the bus started moving again, continuing its bumpy and jerky track down the road. Candlestick was trying to have at Quackity again, flexing his paws and shoving them through the gaps in the wire.

 

He ignored the cat for the rest of the trip, relieved when he finally stepped off at his stop. It was only a short walk back to his apartment now, and the sidewalk didn’t look overly busy right now. Quackity was relieved. Starting to walk back, carrying the pet carrier very carefully — he didn’t need to give Candlestick another reason to hate him.

 

His phone rang numerous times on the walk home, presumably Karl. He expected there to be some creative voicemails left for him when he got back. He couldn’t imagine who else would be calling him at this time.

 

Quackity sighed, picking up his pace, annoyed by the constant buzz of his phone from his pocket. Couldn’t Karl get the memo already? He huffed out a breath of air, annoyed. Tucking the pet carrier under his arm, he picked up the pace, much to Candlestick’s protest. 

 

His apartment complex was just down the road when it happened, it was very quick, Quackity only seeing a flash of red fabric and the vague sound of pedals and cogs before he felt the blow. 

Time didn’t slow like it did in movies, he wasn’t given the time needed to think and act, instead he was simply hit. 

 

The kid had held a ten-dollar note in his fist, and was riding faster than was likely legal on a sidewalk.

 

Quackity hit the ground hard. Metal beams and a tire digging into his middle roughly, the bike and kid stopping in their tracks when they collided. He looked around frantically, only vaguely aware of what had happened. 

 

He didn’t have the pet carrier in his hands anymore, and now the kid was getting up off the ground and saying something. No, he was yelling at something down the street, not even making eye contact with Quackity. The kid picked something off the ground, which Quackity would later realize was a ten-dollar note he was clutching earlier.

 

His head hurt.

 

But he needed to get up and find Candlestick’s carrier. Quackity stayed still for a few seconds and found himself unable to take a deep breath — hyperventilating as adrenaline pumped through his veins. So he pushed the bike off of him frantically, Ignoring the shouting he could hear, scanning his surroundings before spotting the carrier. 

 

He was almost relieved for a second until the realised the door had snapped. Quackity scrambled in panic, like a wild animal caught in a trap. Moving to get up despite not having checked himself for injuries. 

 

“You shouldn’t get up, you’re hurt.” Someone said gently, followed by a force applied to his shoulder as soon as he moved, stopping Quackity in his tracks. 

 

“Get off, I have to get my cat!” He hissed, still met with resistance when he tried to get up again.

 

“I can assure you, he’s quite alright, just calm down and sit,” It was a guy talking, oddly calm compared to Quackity’s red hot panic. 

 

How could he be so calm right now? Was he insane? Did he not understand? Was he stupid or blind? Did he seriously not see what the hell had just happened? Quackity’s temper flared, a multitude of questions and insults sitting on his tongue.

 

“No, I dropped the carrier and—” Quackity started to explain, almost hysteric. Candlestick was an indoor cat, but would without question bolt if his carrier was left open, or fucking dropped.

 

“Sir, you took quite a fall, and your cat is just fine.” The guy cut him off, Quackity finally turning to face him, intending on chewing him out. He instead froze. His cat, who should’ve been frantically trying to get away from this stranger,  was simply letting this man hold him with one hand while he used the other to make sure Quackity didn’t get up. 

 

“See? He’s alright.” The man smiled warmly, fluffy brown hair falling into his face as he kneeled down in front of Quackity.