Wilbur wasn't sure when it all went wrong. It had started off perfectly, just like every other mission. He'd worked with Quackity before and everything had been just fine, so what happened this time?
This mission had been slightly different from others. Usually, they had less than six targets. Usually, their higher–ups want them to act as enemies, to lessen the chance of both of them getting caught. Usually, they lived separately, but close.
They'd gotten along great. They made a great team. Wilbur preferred having Quackity rather than anyone else as he knew not only would they get the job done, but he'd have fun doing it.
Together, they became masters of manipulation. Everyone thought they hated each other, so no one would suspect they'd be working together to slaughter them all. It'd been really easy to play the push–and–pull game with their victims, pushing them away and pulling them back over and over in an endless cycle until they closed their eyes for a final time. They even pushed them to the other, to go unnoticed by their victims. They had fun doing it, tricking them and playing with their minds as if they were just their toys. When one finally revealed themself to be a traitor after their death, their face was hilarious, and often they'd try to call out for the other one—only to discover they're partners in crime. Their faces were so worth it.
Now though, they were pretending to be lovers. Now, they are living together. And now, they have twenty people to eliminate.
With Wilbur pretending to be a doting lover that's very clumsy, kind and silly, they snuck into the group easily. Tommy Innit specifically latched onto him very quickly and pulled him in. Then Kristin and Phil Angyl grew fond of him, and Sally Sa'mon latched onto his persona as well. Then Puffy Captain grew to like him, and Niki Nihachu, and even Technoblade Piglin. He was in.
Quackity, who put on a persona of a closed–off, guarded, protective boyfriend with a dark and tragic backstory, had a harder time sneaking in. They'd invited him whenever they invited Wilbur, but they focused more on the 'friendly' lover. Then Schlatt began spending a lot of time with him. After Schlatt, Karl and Sapnap latched onto him for a while. After them, Quackity finally settled in with Tommy and Slime, though he never got Techno to come around to him.
Once Wilbur had begun being considered as a part of the "family" that consisted of Tommy Innit, Kristin and Philza Angyl, and Technoblade Piglin, that's where Wilbur likes to say it all went wrong. It began to devolve into chaos.
He'd carefully crafted his relationships with everyone based on some factors—their personality, how dangerous they were, and how hard to kill they were going to be. He annoyed Tommy Innit but acted protective over him for being a child, which eventually won over the rest of the "family's" favor as well, not just Tommy's. They'd even joked that Tommy Innit was Wilbur's brother, that Wilbur was Technoblade Piglin's twin, and that he was the couple's son. He embraced it and played the part, knowing the family was going to be hard to kill because of how tight knit and dangerous they were. He befriended Dream Wastaken, and Dream Wastaken's boyfriend, Fundy Itz, which was easy enough as Tommy Innit was Dream Wastaken's friend. He was even J. Schlatt's best friend for a while, trying to gauge why his profile didn't list his first name or any crucial information. At some point, he even 'adopted' Fundy, bringing him into the 'family unit.'
Wilbur had clung to Quackity at first, playing the part of a shy guy with a protective boyfriend. Once they got comfortable with him, however, he began to spend time away from Quackity—to get more information and find out weak points, he had assured himself. They wouldn't be so open with Quackity nearby. And they weren't—some of them. So he didn't pay too much attention to the time he was spending with J. Schlatt at first, figuring he was doing the same as him—establish friendships, gain information, find out how to kill him, and get out.
Then he began to care, all because of one little sentence.
"Don't you find it weird that your boy thing's hangin' around Schlatt a lot?" Techno had asked him when he went over for dinner at their place. It was just Wilbur, Techno, Tommy, Phil, and Kristin, which put him on edge. Phil quickly elbowed him as Wilbur furrowed his brows in confusion.
"Why would I?" he pressed. The man with pink hair shrugged.
"It's—He's always around Quackity," Tommy spoke up, ignoring the glare sent his way. It only made Wilbur more curious. "They're always going places too, and Schlatt's been known to be keen on affairs."
Wilbur played the part as a defensive boyfriend, narrowing his eyes and puffing his chest. He didn't have to act much, though, as he was defensive—Quackity would never jeopardize their act like this unless he had a plan. "He'd never cheat on me," he spat, but hoped it was soft enough to still match his personality. He'd just put a tad bit too much venom, he was afraid, and had to stop himself from wincing. They all—aside from Techno—flinched back and tensed up.
"We aren't saying he's cheating, necessarily, my dear," Kristin piped up softly, with her husband nodding as she held onto his elbow.
"We're just tellin' you to be a bit wary," Techno joined, voice firm as he leaned slightly closer to Wilbur. "Maybe keep a closer eye on 'im is all we're saying."
"We just don't want you to get hurt," Phil quickly added, leaning closer to set a comforting hand on Wilbur. It was evident he was trying to get Wilbur to relax again, so that he wouldn't run off like a scared dog with its tail between its legs.
"I won't be," Wilbur swore. What truly startled him was how genuine his next statement felt, as if he truly and utterly believed it. "He'd never hurt me. He'll always protect me." Then he swiftly got up and left, leaving his nearly–untouched dinner to grow cold.
He didn't care much about the food waste—Tommy was probably already digging his hands in the moment he turned his back, just like always.
He didn't get the chance to dwell on what they were accusing Quackity of—he hadn't even told Quackity himself of their thoughts—as the chaos truly began. They stopped stressing so much on how to eliminate a total of twenty friends that are tight knit as they began to fall apart.
The first one that they killed was Dream. Tommy and Dream had some fight that sparked a whole lot of drama and soon the fight was nicknamed 'the Dream War.' Fundy had caught Dream cheating on him with George NotFound, leaving Wilbur to console him. Sapnap took Fundy's side, and Dream and George were essentially outcast. It was fairly easy to slip poison into Dream's cup, and Wilbur easily talked the cheater into going off alone with him in the pretense he sided with him and would sleep with him. Wilbur shot him dead, and Quackity provided an alibi.
Then they killed George NotFound. He had been distraught from Dream's death, so Quackity easily was able to shove him off a cliff. It was declared a suicide.
So they were down to eighteen.
Wilbur began trying to manipulate Fundy unnoticed while Fundy was in despair over losing his lover, he noticed Quackity was spending even more time with Schlatt. Wilbur was happy with it—Wilbur was working on gaining even more of their trust and getting rid of Fundy, his next victim, while Quackity was working on taking out J. Schlatt.
Then J. Schlatt died of a heart attack, a result from too much drinking. For some reason, Schlatt being gone for good made him relax greatly and he struggled hiding a grin until he got home. He was so glad he was gone, he got angry when Quackity didn't seem to be happy at all. He seemed upset. But Quackity reassured him it was just because he was stressed—his handler had sent a message saying they needed to hurry up, so Wilbur let it go.
With Schlatt's death, it wasn't long until Fundy committed suicide. Apparently, Schlatt had done a lot for Fundy. He'd gotten him several jobs, until he finally landed Fundy in a very important position at a huge company. Schlatt had even brought Fundy into the friend group, giving him his friends. Schlatt was Fundy's first father figure. Schlatt was the first person to show him respect and not care all too much what he did, claiming he could handle himself. Fundy felt as thought his life was ruined with Schlatt's passing, and with a little sly nudging from Wilbur, he committed suicide.
That was the first time he felt guilty for killing, and he understood why Quackity was upset with Schlatt's death. He hated it, and he hated to admit it, but he'd grown attached. He hasn't clicked with anyone else before like that, other than Quackity—not his targets, not bystanders, not any of the other assassins at the organization, or even his handler, 5up, or Quackity's handler, Hafu. He didn't even want to think about how they were going to eliminate the rest of them, let alone Tommy, Techno, Phil, and Kristin. It took him around a month to recover, acting depressed as things slowed, which only made them trust him more.
He no longer knew if he wanted them to trust him.
Around the same time Wilbur recovered from Fundy's death, Quackity recovered from Schlatt's. They straightened up and forced themselves to get back into business. They didn't want to think about the consequences they'd face if they went back and didn't kill them all.
Quackity started hanging around Karl and Sapnap a lot while Wilbur began hanging around Niki, Eret, and Puffy more often. And, just like with Schlatt, after a few months, it became rare to see Quackity—especially without the two lovers by his side. Why Quackity wanted to be a third wheel, Wilbur couldn't fathom.
Techno thought he knew why though, of course.
Techno has once again brought up the fact that Quackity could be cheating—even though they weren't actually dating so he couldn't be cheating, Wilbur still hated hearing him accuse Quackity of sleeping around behind his back. The more he brought it up, the more angry Wilbur became, so he did the only thing he thought he could do.
He began poisoning Karl and Sapnap.
He started off with such small doses, it went unnoticed. Then, slowly, they became sick.
Then Quackity saw what Wilbur was doing.
In the past few days Tommy wouldn't have stopped bugging Wilbur about watching his favorite movie after finding out he hadn't seen it yet, therefore Wilbur was watching it when Quackity came in. While he silently shut the door, Wilbur could feel the anger radiating off of him without even looking up. He knew his best friend better than himself, after all.
Wilbur frowned and turned to look at the glaring man. "What's wrong, Q?"
"What do you think you're doing?" he spat. That's when Wilbur realized that, for once, Quackity was genuinely angry at him.
His eyes widened as he thought about why Quackity could be angry at him, before finally coming to a realization. They'd both been desensitized to killing due to the organization's training, but unlike most other students, they'd come to enjoy killing.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take your victims," he apologized. "I saw how hurt you got with Schlatt's death, and I understood when Fundy died, so I figured I'd kill your targets to lighten the load for you. Of course, you can go ahead and kill mine, if you want."
Quackity's eyes widened a bit before narrowing again, and he left to go to their room with a huff. He hadn't responded. Wilbur took that as him accepting Wilbur's proposal.
He thought he'd feel better if his friends—his family—weren't killed by his own hands. Maybe it'd be better if they were killed by the hands of the person they swore was a traitor anyway.
Maybe that was Quackity's plan all along—pretend to cheat so that they'd trust Wilbur more. It all made sense—if Wilbur was the poor victim, betrayed by his lover, they'd treat him as a baby, made of glass and needing protection.
As Karl and Sapnap's sickness progressed, Wilbur got the shock of his lifetime.
He was betrayed by Niki and Eret, the two people he considered his closest friends (besides Quackity himself, of course).
Wilbur was so broken at the realization, that he barely registered the fight that broke out. Of course, the rest of his friends jumped to protect him and kick them out. A few weeks later however, when he recovered from being betrayed, he was so filled with anger that he found out where they'd moved to, trapped them inside their home, and set it on fire. He listened to their screams with tears running down his face until they finally silenced and he returned home.
The next morning after that, Sally approached him. While she'd clung to him, she always rubbed Wilbur wrong, so he avoided her. But he took this as he needed to get close to her anyway, and let her constantly seek him out. He played the naive fool who didn't realize she was flirting with him, and played dumb when his friends—the ones insisting Quackity was cheating—tried to nudge him closer to her, but to no avail.
Karl and Sapnap were taken to a hospital for a check up on their illness, and had to have a live-in nurse to care for them as they were now pronounced unlikely to survive.
"It's a horrible world where we have to watch our friends slowly die of an incurable disease," Ponk had muttered, of which many of the group muttered their agreements. Wilbur didn't miss how Quackity's grip on him tightened dangerously, but he didn't speak up about it.
As Karl and Sapnap were dying, Quackity began to grieve. Wilbur felt bad, he truly did—never before had they grown so attached to their targets before—but he didn't understand why Quackity had to avoid him. He was nearly always with someone else—visiting Karl and Sapnap, hanging out with Slime, Sam and Ponk, Foolish and Puffy, or Punz.
"He might be looking for a new partner to cheat with," Techno had once again brought up. Wilbur scowled, to which Tommy and Kristin planted tender hands on his arms, and Phil gave a comforting but firm hand to his shoulder.
"You can brush us off if you want to," Phil declared. "It's not like we know your relationship like you do."
Wilbur forced a grateful smile. He knew it appeared genuine with the returned smile Phil gave. He gave his shoulder one more pat then parted ways, as did Tommy and Kristin.
"If you ever need someone to be by your side in case he does cheat, though," Sally offered up with a weak attempt at a flirty grin as she leaned against him, "I'm always right here."
Wilbur had to push down the gag and force a neutral expression. "Thanks, Sally," he forced out, receiving a big smile. "You're a good friend." Immediately her smile dropped, and he heard Techno chuckle and Tommy snort loudly before bursting out in laughter. Phil and Kristin quickly shut them up with gentle hands to the backs of their heads.
Wilbur wondered how he was going to kill Sally without it going noticed.
After six months, they only had killed seven out of twenty. Usually the two of them took much less time, and had once killed six people in the span of three months, but with a group so large and tight–knit, they had to be more careful and to take precautions.
He was trying to plan out how to kill the rest of them, pointing out weak points and strong points and bad plans and all the 'fun' stuff, when Quackity came in quietly, like he had when he was angry.
This time, it was slow, and he wasn't angry. Wilbur frowned—was Quackity sad?
He quickly turned around to see Quackity already looking at him, looking torn and defeated. It was quiet for a moment. Quackity had never liked being open about his feelings before, so Wilbur knew it was pointless to ask what was wrong, but his partner was just standing there.
"I killed them," he finally muttered. Wilbur furrowed his brows, silently asking 'why?'. "I—I got angry. They—They never considered me one of them."
Wilbur gave a sad smile. "I understand that," he started before going into teasing, "but you knew what you were getting into. You kind of chose to be the third wheel by becoming their friend, Q. They're a couple! I don't get why you wanted to hang around them knowing that, to be honest," he chuckled. His eyes widened as he faltered before stepping forward to sit next to him.
"Wilbur," he started, "what do you know about my relationship with Schlatt? With Karl and Sapnap?"
Wilbur furrowed his brows before pausing the movie and turning to fully look at him. "What do you mean? You being their best friends? We both made that mistake, we got a little too attached to our friends so when we had to kill them, we got upset when we normally wouldn't. It's okay, we'll just have to be more careful."
Quackity frowned, his brows furrowed. "Wilbur . . . I don't think I've been entirely honest with you."
"What do you mean?"
Wilbur wouldn't admit it, but that statement scared him. Something about it made his heart pound to the point where it hurt. His head began to pound to the point where Wilbur could barely see. His chest burned, and it hurt to breathe. He was so scared, he felt like his world was ending—he felt like he was dying—and he didn't know why.
"Wilbur, I've . . . I've been involved with them." He moved his hands around a lot as if that would help.
Wilbur's eyes narrowed as he desperately tried to calm the burning heart in his chest. "What do you mean, Quackity?" he spat with venom he didn't even realize was building—but then again, when he was scared, he tended to be aggressive. Quackity wasn't expecting the venom either as he flinched hard, eyes going wide to the point where Wilbur wasn't sure if he was reacting entirely from Wilbur's anger.
"I—I've been sleeping with them," he finally admitted. "And—And I dated them. I broke up with Karl and Sapnap, I was dating Schlatt when he died."
There it was.
As it hit him with a ton of bricks, Wilbur realized that's what he was so afraid of. Quackity had fallen in love with other people. Quackity loved other people.
Wilbur couldn't help the sob that escaped him, it surprised even himself. He quickly went to cover his mouth in a desperate attempt to shut himself off while Quackity jumped forward, trying to comfort him.
"Wilbur, I—I'm sorry. I knew I was risking the mission but I didn't care. It was selfish of me, I'm sorry. I should've told you—"
"Why would you do this?" he cried, remembering all the accusations of cheating his friends had claimed upon his name, and how much Wilbur had stood up for him. It went outside the normal acting—he was genuine when defending Quackity, because how dare they accuse him of doing something that could lose his honor? "Why would you do this to me? After—After everything! After everything we've been through together, after everything I've done for you. . . I trusted you, Quackity! You should've told me the second you realized your feelings were getting in the way of killing them all!"
"You just said you also got your feelings wrapped up in our mission, you said it was fine!" Quackity retorted, but there was no anger, just pure confusion.
"I was talking about growing attached," Wilbur yelled, "not falling in love with someone else!"
"Wilbur, I—I wasn't ever in love," Quackity blurted, in which Wilbur figured it was a desperate attempt at calming the taller one down.
It only made Wilbur more angry.
He was sleeping around, cheating, for nothing?
"Then why did you do it?" he demanded, seething. "Why did you do this to me?"
"I . . . Look, if they think I've been cheating on you, then this is better for you, right? You just got betrayed—if you get betrayed by your supposed lover, then they'll trust you more, right? They're less likely to suspect you. I'm fine with throwing myself under the bus, you know this."
There it was. The reminder that brought Wilbur crashing down.
He'd been so caught up in playing lovers with Quackity, it became him. He wasn't sure when the line began to blur—when he became convinced they were actually dating.
"Go to the room," he ordered. It was quiet, but Quackity still heard it. His eyes went wide, and he stood up instinctively.
"Wha—? Wilbur—"
"Go. Now," he ordered again, louder. He began to clench at his jeans to remove some pressure from his palm. "I'm sleeping in here. I—I don't want to be in the same room as you right now."
"You can stay in the room if you want, I'll stay in here—"
Wilbur scowled, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "No," he spat. "I don't want to sleep in the bed you may have brought over men to have sex with."
Quackity opened his mouth as if to respond, but Wilbur shot him a glare that shut him up. He sighed and gave in, heading to the room.
Once he left, Wilbur looked back down at his lap and let himself sob. He covered his mouth to quote it down, as the apartments tend to have thin walls.
He was afraid—when had he become the person he was pretending to be? When had he begun to consider himself Quackity's actual lover? Why did it hurt so much to hear he'd been sleeping with other men? What was going to happen when they completed the mission? What if the organization found out? What would they do to Quackity when they found out he jeopardized the mission? What would they do to him when they found out what he'd done?
What was going to happen to him?
He felt like his life was falling apart, as if he was one of his targets that just found out he'd been set to kill them—as if he had realized they were never friends all along. When had he begun to feel this strongly about his best friend, that he felt like he was dying because he chose other people? They weren't even actually together for prime's sake, why was he getting so worked up?
Wilbur didn't miss the footsteps that, as quietly as they could, walked away from his door, and he broke down again. Could this day get any worse?
The next morning, he woke up with a pounding headache. He slowly got up and made himself coffee, drinking it at the bar as he contemplated what to do. It was obvious someone overheard—Wilbur was sure all they heard was him, though, as Quackity had been speaking pretty quietly the whole time, which is good, considering Wilbur had forgotten they were faking the relationship.
It would be easy enough to fix the mistake—Wilbur could easily play the part of the heartbroken fool, but they could also be 'working on their relationship,' maybe? He'd have to speak with Quackity when he woke up. He continued on with writing down a messy, scattered, half–plan on around ten pieces of paper scattered around him. He pulled out the old plans and old observations he made to edit and improve.
Finally, Quackity slowly and quietly crept into the living room—which, he should've known he couldn't get past Wilbur.
"Good morning," he greeted, suppressing a wince at how cracked and hoarse his voice sounded. He took another sip of his coffee, ignoring how Quackity froze. "I already got your coffee set up so you just have to press 'start.' Come, take a seat. We need to have a conversation."
After a second, the shorter man obliged, albeit hesitantly. He started his coffee and Wilbur continued silently working. After a few minutes, Quackity got his coffee and sat down beside him, but neither of them spoke for a few minutes.
"How. . . Are you still mad at me?"
"Of course I'm still mad at you," Wilbur answered nonchalantly, ignoring the pain in his chest from remembering last night's events. "Now, we need to revise our old plan. What do you think?" He pushed the paper over to Quackity, who seemed confused.
"Why do we have to revise our old plan?"
"Because Techno, Tommy, Phil, and Kristin have all been warning me you'd cheat. So I was thinking we could either stage a huge break up, or 'work on our relationship.' I prefer the second option, as it keeps as closely to our original plan as we can get."
He gave a short nod as a dark look came over his face—guilt?—but then he looked confused again. "How would they even know if I slept with someone else?"
Wilbur took a sip before he answered, as his throat was beginning to feel clammy. "Someone overheard."
Quackity's face dropped.
"It might not be them," Wilbur reassured. "It could be someone else in the building. They could've only overheard the last bit of the conversation—I was yelling, you weren't, so it's very likely they didn't hear you."
He gave a short nod, but his face was still twisted as he went to chug his coffee. Wilbur simply rose a brow as Quackity choked, seemingly having forgotten it was still hot—or perhaps he didn't care. That was a Quackity thing to do.
"Don't get coffee over my papers," Wilbur warned, yet his smooth, quiet, relaxed tone hadn't changed at all. It kind of startled him, how good he was acting as if he didn't feel hollowed out inside. "I don't want to have to rewrite them."
Quackity nodded, sparing him a glance before quickly going to read what Wilbur had written down. After a few minutes, he gave his approval, and they settled back into silence.
After a few more minutes of awkward silence, Wilbur got up and got dressed to leave. He grabbed the keys and the card the company had sent them with. He went to leave but paused at the door. "Quackity," he said to the man still sitting at the counter, "do not leave this apartment, and do not let anyone in." He shut the door before he could respond.
He arrived at the grocery store and got the bare essentials of food and household supplies he needed before rushing over to bedding. He looked through the different colors—the company provided the furniture, so they always got beige or white things. He could not, whatsoever, sleep in the same bed with the same sheets as before, even washed, without thinking of what Quackity could have been doing in them. He needed to burn them.
He considered keeping Quackity's preferences in mind when choosing a color, but he was mad at him, so he settled on his colors. He grabbed a dark red and brown set and a yellow set.
"Wilbur?" Tommy's voice spoke up, stopping him as he went to leave the isle. He turned to see the blonde boy slightly tilting his head. "Why're you buying new sheets?"
"I. . ." he started, looking back down at the sheets. He couldn't risk lying in case he knew the truth, but he couldn't risk telling the truth in case he didn't know. "I. . ." he cursed himself mentally for the stuttering. He took a breath and looked back at Tommy, who had a worried glint in his eyes. He offered a weak smile. "I accidentally bleached our set."
Tommy gave a grin, and it was obvious he was ready to mock him. "Really, Wil? Come on, I thought you'd have known better! I'm so telling everyone!"
Wilbur forced a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, silly me."
Tommy went to respond, only for Phil's voice to call his name the next aisle over. The boy groaned, said goodbye, and ran off.
Wilbur turned to leave the aisle, tossing a dark blue set in the cart. At the checkout, Wilbur bought some cigarettes, not caring much that the building didn't allow them. He also bought some vodka, but made sure to get it at a different store in case they accidentally saw it.
When he got home, he made Quackity put it all away as he simply watched. He was afraid of letting Quackity out of his sight—he didn't trust him alone anymore. He assured himself it's just to punish him for risking the mission, and he knew that's what Quackity thought of it, but he knew the truth.
He couldn't stand the thought of Quackity being with anyone else, so he was going to make sure of it.
Once groceries were put away, he told Quackity to cook the chicken alfredo as he put up a television show—Phil's recommendation, this time. Wilbur got out the vodka he'd brought and began getting drunk, figuring he could just stay inside the rest of the day and the next—it'd be easy to fake being sick, as long as they didn't come over.
Right as Quackity was silently finishing up their meal, they heard a knock at their door. With a groan, Wilbur got up, hid the vodka, and plastered on the fake smile his persona required, and opened the door to find Kristin, Phil, and Tommy. He took a step back, worried they'd be able to smell the alcohol on his breath.
"Hey, guys," he greeted, internally groaning as he thought about how he should behave. "What are you guys doing here?"
"Oh, you know," Kristin started, waving her hand as she chuckled. "Tommy wanted to see you, so here we are. I hope we're not bothering you."
"Of course not, come on in!" He forced the smile to grow as he stepped to the side, allowing them in as he shut the door behind him. "Quackity!" he called. "Make another bag! Phil, Kristin, Techno, and Tommy are here!"
Kristin and Techno both lifted their brows, as Phil chastised Tommy for jumping on the couch.
"Aren't you usually the one cooking?" Techno pointed out. Wilbur's smile began to strain uncontrollably. It was true—he did like cooking, and it fell in line with his persona, so he cooked every day for them and was always helping them cook as well.
He couldn't come up with a lie to say in case they didn't know the truth, so he ignored them in favor of joining Phil and Tommy on the couch.
"Tommy, I was watching that, you gremlin!"
"Why're you watching an old person show? I'm sorry I'm trying to give you taste!"
"Excuse me," Phil interjected, "this is a show I liked so I recommended it to him."
Tommy gave him a look. "Exactly."
"Tommy, stop bullying your father," Kristin joined in half–heartedly. "Quackity," she called as she began to walk to the kitchen, "do you need help, dear?"
"No," Wilbur blurted, getting looks from all of them. "He's fine. Come, take a seat, Kristin. You're our guest, don't think we're going to make you cook!" He tried to lighten the mood, to deter them from how sharp he answered. He forced out a chuckle.
"Did he do somethin' for you to be puttin' him to work?" Techno pressed, a certain glint in his eye. Wilbur figured he was probably hoping he'd been right all along, that Quackity was just a dirty cheater, and Wilbur finally found out and is now punishing him.
Wilbur forced out a laugh. "I guess you could say that."
"What'd he do?" Tommy asked, eyes big as he was now intrigued. Wilbur snorted. Of course Tommy wanted to know the drama.
"Didn't clean out the fridge like I asked," he responded, shocking himself with that statement. He hadn't even thought of a proper lie to tell, and it just slid off his tongue. "Now he has to cook for a week. Right, babe?"
"Right," Quackity groaned, playing into the lie Wilbur had given. He'd been entering the kitchen anyway with a couple plates. "Here, I'm coming with one more. The other bag's still cooking, but this one's been cooled enough to eat."
Tommy quickly jumped up to grab a plate first, snatching it from Quackity's hands. "Thanks, Big Q!"
Quackity huffed but let it go as Wilbur and Techno rolled their eyes and Phil and Kristin laughed at Tommy's antics. Techno took the second plate, and Kristin took the third plate Quackity brought out.
While waiting for the other bag to finish cooking, they chatted about nothing and everything, the show completely forgotten about as Tommy changed it, but Wilbur still stood on edge. He couldn't determine if they were actually trying to gauge the truth out of Wilbur, or if he was just imagining it due to his paranoia.
Then Quackity put a hand on his shoulder and offered a comforting smile, and Wilbur forgot all about his worries. The shorter male gave him a plate and Wilbur thanked him with a kiss to his cheek, reassuring himself it's just for show—people are watching. He then realized Phil finally got a plate, and Quackity sat down beside him.
They were all looking confused and curious, and that's when Wilbur knew that they overheard. He spared a look at Quackity right as he spared a look at him. So Quackity had caught on too. It was evident as his face slightly fell and nervousness took over, and he gave a shy grin in their direction as he leaned against Wilbur for support.
"Wilbur, I can't believe you actually bleached your sheets! Like, seriously, who does that?" Tommy pressed teasingly, nudging him and laughing loudly. Wilbur rolled his eyes, but he knew—he knew he was just trying to get Wilbur to admit the truth.
Unfortunately for him, once Wilbur gave a lie, he stuck to it.
"Oh, I remember that," Quackity joined in as Wilbur opened his mouth. He had a grin on his face, one obviously fake but in a way where only Wilbur himself could tell, and he was laughing with Tommy as he nudged Wilbur. "Wilbur screamed when he realized. Scared me shitless. Apparently, he'd accidentally grabbed the bleach thinking it was detergent and didn't read the bottle."
Wilbur gently shoved him back. "Oh, hush, dear. It's not my fault you moved them and didn't tell me!"
"Why would I switch the bleach and detergent?"
"Because you did the laundry last!" Wilbur shot back, laughter making it hard to speak, but it did add authenticity to their play fight. "Why would I know why you switched them? They were just fine before when it was my turn!"
"Ew!" Tommy cried as Quackity was about to retort. When he turned to look at the youngest, his nose was wrinkled. "Quit being sappy when I'm here. It's disgusting. You're worse than Phil and Kristin!"
While Kristin joined in on the laughter, Phil playfully slapped the back of his head, enticing a scream from the boy.
"You know, he's right," Techno joined in with a grin as he looked at the two boyfriends. "You two are worse than Phil and Kristin, and they're married."
"Ew! What the fuck?" Tommy exclaimed as if he hadn't known they were married. Wilbur rolled his eyes as everyone laughed at him. Phil grabbed Tommy and messed up his hair, to which Kristin pleaded with him to stop or else he'd 'ruin his hair.'
"Kristin, don't act like his hair isn't already ruined!" Wilbur exclaimed with a laugh. "I doubt the boy even bathes!"
"It's called hormone-maxing, but you wouldn't know since you're not as much of an alpha as me!"
"Is that an actual thing or did you make that up?" Quackity asked through his snickers. Tommy calmed down from laughter.
"No, it—it's wild but it's an actual thing. Apparently people don't shower because they want to 'max' their 'hormones' or some stupid shit like that."
"You're on TikTok too much, kid."
"I'm not a kid, Techno, I'm sixteen!"
"Shut up, child."
"Techno, stop starting fights with your brother, please."
And so their conversation carried on like that, floating from subject to subject. Wilbur and Quackity took great care in changing the subject around again or distracting the group once attention turned to them—now that they knew that Quackity had slept with other people, they needed to gaslight them into thinking it never happened and make them forget. Eventually, they left, and they relaxed.
The next day, Sally came by. She was . . . very dressed up to say the least. She had on a tight and revealing green dress that matched her green eyes, and had her red hair done in a fancy updo. She wore dark red lipstick with matching eyeshadow.
The minute Quackity had opened the door, she had shoved past him and latched onto Wilbur. She went on rambling, but neither of the two assassins were paying much attention. Wilbur knew that their group had told her he'd found out Quackity had been sleeping around, so he nodded at Quackity to close the door. It took the shortest of the three to realize as he was glaring excessively at the red head, but he finally obeyed.
"What are you doing here, Sals?" Wilbur said as softly as he could force out. He ignored how shocked Quackity appeared to be at the sudden switch. Sally, however, took the bait—it was likely she thought that now she could win him over. Perhaps Wilbur should feel guilty for leading her on, but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
After Sally had mumbled out something Wilbur couldn't comprehend but pretended to, he looked back at Quackity. "Why don't you go visit Sam, Puffy, or Foolish? I think Slime's available, too. Punz and Purpled might even be available."
Quackity glared at him for a moment and went to respond, before he seemed confused. Finally, he nodded with a sigh. "Alright. They're all meeting up anyway. Join us later if you'd like."
Once Quackity was gone, Sally was way more affectionate with Wilbur than before. He forced down the disgust and played into the part, 'complaining' that he'd 'caught him cheating.' It worked in his favor as Sally repeatedly offered herself in case he 'ever wanted to let off steam.' He kept it up for way too long as she kept dragging it out, until he finally 'admitted' that he'd 'grown fond of her.' He asked her to meet him at the park's hiking trail to 'show her his favorite spot to see the stars' but made her promise she wouldn't tell anyone, not even their friends, using the excuse of he 'didn't want word to spread.'
Like an utter moron, she took the bait.
Once she'd left with some excuse he came up with, he sent Quackity a text. He then went to go join them. After all, they needed an alibi.
Quackity lifted a brow when he arrived—Wilbur was incredibly dressed up, much more than he normally is—but Wilbur shook his head. He couldn't tell him here, while they're around everyone.
As it turned out, Punz was the bartender at the bar they were at. Purpled, his brother, had been snuck in by Punz, which is apparently common practice. Sam and Ponk weren't able to make it unfortunately, using an excuse the others called 'bullshit.' They let it be as they supposedly use that excuse a lot when they're having a fight, so they left them alone.
"Should we invite Phil and Techno?" Foolish asked. "Since most of us men are here, maybe make it a boy's night?"
"I think they mentioned fencing practice," Wilbur lied, "when they visited earlier. Besides, Phil's getting much too old to come to these things. He might pop a joint." The others laughed, and he grinned, and they kept up the conversation.
At some point, Foolish and Quackity got annoyed with each other—it was stupid, but Wilbur blamed the alcohol—so Foolish, as revenge, bought Wilbur enough drinks to get him tipsy in an attempt to get Quackity jealous. The two began competing on who could buy Wilbur more drinks, which, luckily, was the perfect excuse Wilbur could ever be given to get away with murder. He pretended to drink a lot more, and he pretended to get more drunk, and then when the time came to meet up with Sally, he said he needed to go home to rest. Quackity, who was tipsy, came with him as well.
"Where are we?" he slurred as Wilbur pulled up into the park.
"Sober up," he ordered as he handed Quackity some pills and water. Luckily, they'd been trained to be less prone to drunkenness, but Wilbur wasn't sure just how much he drank before he got there. Once Quackity chugged the water and took the pill, he started up with the orders again. "Lay low, don't get seen. Follow us in the dark, try to be quiet."
"What're we doing?" he hissed as he pushed the seat back to sink into the floorboard.
"Killing Sally."
It was all he needed to say. It shut Quackity up. As Quackity hid under the dashboard, he put the car in park and slammed the door open. Before he closed the door, he threw Quackity the keys as slyly as he could.
"I'll text you when we're on the trail. The knife's in the glovebox. Be quiet." He shut the door and walked up to Sally, who was dressed just as much as she had been earlier and was sitting on the bench waiting for his arrival.
As he approached, Sally got up to greet him, and Wilbur forced a large grin on his face as he embraced her. She went to kiss him but he put a finger to her lips, stopping her.
She giggled. "You want to wait for the perfect moment, beneath the stars?"
Wilbur didn't answer, but he took her arm and led her down the path. After a few minutes of walking, he paused, much to her confusion. He let go of her arm, and turned so she couldn't see his phone.
"Sorry, my mom's texting me," he lied. He sent the message telling Quackity to follow them and hurry up. He turned off the screen as she went to glance at it. "Sorry about that, dear. Let's go." She took his arm once more and they went back onto the path, at a much slower pace as Wilbur listened.
Once he heard quiet footsteps behind him, he resumed normal speed. Luckily, she didn't notice—or maybe didn't ask. He then took her off the trail, leading her deeper into the woods. He was surprised at how trusting she was—really, she was willing to go deep into the woods where no one could hear her scream with a practical stranger?—but assumed that's just because of three things: she's an utter moron, she fancies him, and he's hot.
He knows he's hot, he's used his looks to his advantage before—to get into places he otherwise wasn't allowed, to get girls to trust him, to get people to ignore his red flags, and so on. It was just something about him—it was a part of him that was a tool to help him on his missions. Quackity also used his looks to his advantage as well.
Finally, they found a small clearing that was a good walk away from the hiking trail and park, and they came to a stop.
"You know, I kind of imagined more. . ." she trailed, moving her hands around to try to show him what she meant. "Maybe I just watch too many romance movies." She giggled.
Wilbur hummed, listening to Quackity's movements as best as he could. "Maybe," he agreed. "Maybe you should've watched more horror documentaries instead."
She turned to look at him with a lifted brow, a wrinkled nose, confusion and disgust etched on her face. But Quackity moved quickly, running up to her from behind and grabbing her mouth as he stabbed her in the back.
"Oh, dear," Wilbur cooed, letting the darkness in his tone show. He absolutely adored the horrified look on her face as she tried to scream, only for it to be muffled by his hand, and even more muffled by how far away they were. Not that anyone would hear, it's dark. "You're bleeding. Such a tragedy."
"You really thought you could get between us?" Quackity sneered, and her eyes widened even further as she began to choke, her screams cracking. He brought the knife out and stabbed her again. "You really should've known better." He brought the knife out again, and slit her throat.
He let her body fall to the floor.
"Oh, dear," Wilbur cooed again, but much more softly. "Your clothes are bloody."
"Are we out of hydrogen peroxide?"
Wilbur shook his head. "I don't think so."
"Then why is it going to be a problem?"
Wilbur eyed Quackity's swaying form. "You're slightly too drunk to not have a hangover in the morning. I'll need to do the scrubbing."
Quackity nodded and looked down. "Are we just going to leave her here?"
Wilbur frowned. "Our DNA is on her, Quackity, of course not. We're going to burn her. Help me carry her."
He groaned but obeyed. On the walk back, Wilbur regretted walking so far out, but knew they couldn't take chances of people investigating. It was a struggle to get her into the truck, but they did. They checked to see if anyone was at the park in case they needed to eliminate witnesses, but just like how they'd arrived, no one was there. So they drove off, leaving Sally's empty car.
They eventually went to an abandoned area they knew from previous encounters didn't have security of any kind, and hurried her there. Quackity enjoyed the fire, complaining about not being able to roast marshmallows, as Wilbur cleaned out the car.
"I don't think you'd be able to eat them even if we had the stuff for s'mores," Wilbur said as he gagged, trying to focus on scrubbing the blood and DNA out of their car. Luckily, they always had a hidden stash of hydrogen peroxide, bleach, and other chemicals to clean blood out of their car. "The smell of burning flesh stinks."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the shorter one shrug, and Wilbur rolled his eyes. How he was fine with the smell, he had no idea, but he didn't question it. Quackity dropped the idea of s'mores after, though, which Wilbur was grateful for. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to stomach the idea of eating while smelling that horrid scent.
Eventually, the car was cleaned out, and Wilbur dragged Quackity away from the fire to go home, leaving her abandoned body still burning.
When they got home, Wilbur was set on taking Quackity's bloody clothes to wash them. They couldn't afford to wait for the morning, when people could visit or anything. Wilbur didn't mind not sleeping, he wasn't tired at all—unlike Quackity, whose adrenaline rush was wearing off at the same time as the alcohol.
"Does this mean you're no longer mad at me?" Quackity muttered.
Wilbur had started scrubbing the clothes and Quackity had insisted on standing next to him. He paused and sighed. "I . . . I'm not mad at you for it anymore, no. I salvaged the situation, I've got it handled. I am, however, still upset with you."
Quackity was quiet for a moment. "Sorry. I shouldn't have done it."
"No, you shouldn't have," Wilbur agreed promptly, refusing to turn his attention away from the bloody clothes. He faltered, though, recalling Quackity's explanations, and paused. "Why did you do it?"
"Wha—?"
"Why did you do it?" Wilbur pressed, more firm. "You never answered me last night when I asked. Please, be honest with me. Why did you do it?"
Quackity was quiet for a moment before he responded. "Why did you react the way you did when I told you?"
Wilbur gripped the soaked clothes, closing his eyes as he forced a deep breath. "That's not what I asked, Quackity. Why did you do it?"
The other assassin was, once again, quiet, so Wilbur continued. "You said you didn't care that you were risking the mission, so I know it wasn't a plot to get me to gain more truth. You said you weren't in love either. So why did you do it, Quackity?"
"Wilbur, I'm sorry—"
"I'm done with the apologies," Wilbur snapped, turning his head to glare at the man. "Just tell me the truth."
Quackity sighed. "Can we . . . Can we maybe sit down for this?"
Wilbur lifted a brow, grabbing the bloody clothes. "Kind of busy right now, so no." He couldn't do them later as he'd forget—memory problems, damn him.
Quackity nodded, and Wilbur didn't miss how his jaw tightened and his whole body tensed. "Ah, right. . ."
Wilbur knew what he'd been trying to do—he was hoping to distract Wilbur, to get him to forget, to put off the conversation for as long as possible.
"Go on," Wilbur ordered, gesturing to him. "We don't have all morning."
Quackity hesitated before he walked up next to Wilbur to sit on the counter. He refused to meet Wilbur's eyes, instead examining his feet and the wall. He was still quiet, and Wilbur softened when he realized Quackity was trying to build the courage to tell him. He dried his hand on a hand towel, letting the clothes soak, before gently grabbing his partner in crime's hand.
"You're okay," he assured. "It's just me."
"That's the thing," Quackity mumbled, balling his hands into fists. "It's you. It's always been you."
"What do you mean?" Wilbur pressed, both surprised and wildly confused. He felt hope bloom in his chest, but quickly squashed it—there was no reason for him to bring his foolish desires into Quackity's confession.
He didn't respond for a moment, but when he did, his voice had dropped greatly. "They were. . . They were the closest I could get to you."
Wilbur could feel his heart beginning to race, and he struggled to keep his head quiet—could it be that Quackity felt the same about him as he felt about Quackity? "What . . . What do you mean?"
"Goddamn it, Wilbur, you know exactly what I mean!" Quackity snapped, and Wilbur calmly took a step back—he knew Quackity was just stressed and freaking out. "You were best friends with Schlatt, so I went after Schlatt. Karl looked similar to you, and Sapnap acted similar to you. That's why I slept with them, because they're the closest I could get to being with you!"
"Quackity," Wilbur tried, trying to grab his hand, but the shorter one shoved past him and left the room. He paused, heart beating heavily in his chest as he contemplated chasing him. He really did want to chase him, but would it be best? Should he let Quackity cool off?
Wilbur's eyes landed on the soaking clothes. They couldn't afford to leave it there—he didn't care if they needed to be destroyed, but what if someone came in and saw? He had to finish the clothes, and then he could chase Quackity.
Oh, for fuck's sake, Wilbur sneered as he barged out the laundry room to follow Quackity.
"Quackity?" he called as he checked the bedroom, only to find it empty. He then went to the living room where he heard movement, to see him leaving.
"I'm going to Slime's," he answered and slammed the door behind him. Wilbur flinched before rushing to follow him.
"Quackity," he called again as he followed Quackity down the hall. "Come home, we need to talk."
"I'm too drunk to talk about it right now."
Wilbur scowled. "No, you're not," he retorted as he hurried up, grabbing Quackity's arm. The man turned around and glared at him. "Quackity, we're going home."
"So you can tell me how much I fucked up and shouldn't have gotten my feelings involved again?" he hissed, tearing his arm away. "Fuck no." He went to walk off again, but Wilbur pulled him back.
"I'm not going to," Wilbur swore, "but we need to get inside the apartment. We don't need anyone overhearing." He looked behind him, trying to calm his nerves that told him they're being watched. No one else was in the hallway, so there was no rationality behind the paranoia.
He tried to tug Quackity into the apartment, but he stayed still. Wilbur turned to look at him to insist for him to follow, but paused when he saw the look on his face that he'd somehow missed earlier—fear.
"Quackity . . ."
"How mad are you?"
Wilbur faltered and swallowed nothing. "Quackity, I'm not—Why would I be mad at you? Come inside, and we can talk, okay?"
Finally, Quackity began to slowly walk back into the apartment. Wilbur watched him enter the apartment first, feeling as though his heart may be breaking.
Quackity was afraid of him?
Before he even realized, he was hurriedly heading to their apartment and slammed the door behind him. He found Quackity on the couch, and quickly approached him to bring him into a hug.
They sat there in silence, with Wilbur refusing to let go long after Quackity gave up fighting back—long after Quackity relaxed into him.
"You're the best partner I've ever had. You know that, right?" Wilbur asked so softly, he was worried Quackity didn't hear him for a moment, but then he hummed as if confused. "You're my best friend." He paused for a moment before continuing.
"You asked me why I reacted so badly when you told me you slept with them. . . I. . . To be honest with you, you actually hurt me. I don't—I'm not sure when it happened, but I forgot we were faking a relationship. It just seemed so easy to be with you, and it felt right. I'm sorry."
Wilbur could feel that Quackity had frozen in his hold. Then, after a moment, the black–haired man pulled away. He looked at Wilbur with wide eyes filled with hope and pure joy.
"Do you love me?"
Wilbur faltered. He did have feelings for Quackity, but with everything they've gone through and are still going through. . . "I don't—I don't know if I'm ready to say that yet," he muttered, wincing at his own words and feeling regret as he saw Q's eyes dull slightly, "but I do seem to have the same feelings towards you that you have towards me."
They were both silent for a moment as they stared at each other. Wilbur's chest felt both heavy and light from the admission, and irrational fears ran through his head—what if he mistook Quackity's words and he didn't like him like that?
Then, finally, Quackity spoke softly to break the silence. "Can I kiss you?"
Wilbur's throat felt dry, but he nodded anyway. His partner gently grabbed his face, and brought them close. Quackity was, by far, his favorite person to kiss.
Wilbur was fixing his shirt as Quackity was rushing him. He was wearing a turtleneck, trying to ensure the hickies visible—sure, beforehand he'd faked having hickies to 'accidently' show them to secure their image of lovers, but this time was different. He sighed as he finally successfully hid them from view, taking a quick look at himself in the mirror.
He looked the happiest he'd ever seen himself—genuinely too. He never would've imagined that he'd be giddy about being able to claim Quackity as his, and be honest about it, but he adored every second. He wanted to rush into the party and brag about it, but he knew better.
"Wilbur, are you done?" Quackity asked, peeking into the bathroom. Wilbur eyed him, as he was wearing something similar, and Wilbur couldn't help but think about how good he looked in his outfit.
"Yeah," he breathed. "Have you grabbed the poison?"
Quackity lifted a brow. "You think we'd be able to slip poison into someone's drink or food without getting caught."
"You might not," he teased the shorter, gently elbowing him, "but I may. You forget that I'm more slick—plus, I get access to the kitchen."
Quackity nodded. "Alright, but we need to hurry up," he said as Wilbur slid past him to go grab a small bottle of poison. "Slime texted me that they're all there and waiting on us."
Wilbur ignored him, quickly fetching one of their hidden bottles of poison, and slipped it into his trench coat pocket. He turned around and began to head to the door. "Let's go, I'm ready." Quackity smiled and offered his arm, of which Wilbur happily grabbed.
When they got there, they were immediately greeted by Tommy, then Slime, and then gradually the rest of them. They gave each other a look when they noticed Ponk having a broken arm and when questioned, he'd come up with a flimsy excuse while side-eyeing Sam nervously, who appeared angry.
So Wilbur decided to try to focus on poisoning Sam tonight instead of targeting Punz and Purpled. He left Quackity to talk to Slime and Foolish and greeted Puffy and Kristin in the kitchen. He quickly took over the main course, but when dinner was being served, Wilbur was able to sneak the poison into Sam's drink. He and Quackity tried their best to be sneaky with their glances towards Sam as he gradually finished it off, not at all noticing anything amiss.
The group was loud, and several times Phil gripped about noise complaints only to get laughed at. Everything seemed happy—they joked and they laughed, Tommy screamed when he discovered Wilbur had a hickey, they made fun of Phil and Kristin for being old, and so on. He wasn't sure what changed, how it changed, or when. All he knew was one minute things were fine, then the next, shit was going down.
The main fight was between Punz, Purpled, and Quackity. Apparently, Purpled and Quackity got into an argument, and Punz jumped at defending his brother. With the chaos of everyone trying to either join or separate the three, Wilbur wasn't sure what the fight was about. He was purely focused on getting Quackity out of there and to calm down. He was doing good at separating Quackity, until Punz made some remark about Wilbur.
That's when the true chaos started.
Quackity, likely blinded by rage, shoved Wilbur away and jumped at Punz, and everyone stepped back and let it happen. But Wilbur couldn't let it happen—he'd kill him and everyone's watching. He couldn't move as Techno was holding him back—why was he holding Wilbur back? He saw the glint in Quackity's eyes, he knew he was about to pull out the gun and shoot him dead.
"Quackity, no!" he screamed, as Q reached for where his gun was hidden. It seemed to bring him out of it, as he turned to look at Wilbur.
Unfortunately, the moment he got distracted, Punz shoved him off and Purpled jumped at him. Thankfully, Foolish and Phil stepped in and separated the two, and Tommy acted as backup. Puffy scolded Sam for not interfering as Kristin turned to scold the three of them as they were being kicked out. Wilbur shoved himself out of Techno's hold and rushed to follow his partner. He took Quackity from Phil, gave him a grateful nod, and took him home.
"What happened?" he asked when he was done making sure Quackity was alright. He'd already cleaned up the blood—apparently Punz had some sharp nails—and tended to the bruises.
"I broke his stupid ass alien ship figure by accident and he won't let it go," he sneered.
Wilbur's eyes narrowed. "Seriously? We could've just paid him, no need for fights."
"That's the thing!" Quackity scowled. "He wouldn't accept payment!"
Wilbur hummed. "Well. . . Just avoid them both for now, okay? I'm going to figure out how I can separate them from the rest of the group before we kill them. Focus on getting enough rest and healing, okay?"
Quackity grumbled something intelligible but obeyed as he laid down and began to pick a show. Wilbur smiled and kissed his forehead, which Quackity grumbled at again, but knew he wasn't actually annoyed by the faint grin on his face.
Over the course of the next week, Quackity stayed home whenever Wilbur went to visit their friends. He worked at building the divide between Punz and Purpled and the rest of them, so that they wouldn't notice when they went missing. He'd also brought up their suspicions of Sam abusing Ponk, which they agreed to, so Wilbur didn't have to worry too much about separating them himself as they were already trying to break away.
It was actually relatively easy to get rid of both Punz and Sam. He went after Punz first by creating a different online profile and offering to pay Punz a hefty amount to 'bring Tommy to Dream.' Since they didn't know Dream was dead, and Wilbur was incredibly good at pretending to be Dream, Punz fell for it. Techno and Phil caught on pretty quick that Punz was trying to basically sell Tommy, and intervened pretty fast. Punz was kicked out of the group by the end of the month, and Purpled went with them. They had to move to get Techno to stop harassing them, which made it easy for them to be killed without going noticed.
It wasn't Wilbur or Quackity's fault that none of the group's outcasts seemed to check if trackers had been snuck into their possessions!
Nevertheless, Wilbur and Quackity broke into their home one night when they were supposed to be home sick, and shot them both in the head. They then tied them up and trashed the house to stage a robbery, being careful with their gloves to not leave DNA, and they took the valuable possessions to burn them.
This time, Wilbur gave in and let him get s'mores since there wasn't a smell of burning flesh.
Then, to target Sam as the group wasn't outright outcasting him in fear that they couldn't reach out to Ponk anymore, Wilbur pretended to be yet again someone else, and got Sam into beef with this person. He threatened and blackmailed Sam, who returned the favor, until Sam finally agreed to meet somewhere to 'settle it once and for all.' Unfortunately, it led to his death, and it was blamed on a stranger he had 'gotten in trouble with.'
What they didn't account for was that instead of being relieved at being freed from Sam's hold, Ponk committed suicide in their apartment. He was found the next morning after they'd been told Sam was dead, quickly found as everyone in the building heard the gunshot.
While they feigned mourning, neither Wilbur nor Quackitg cared too much since they weren't close. Ponk was still simply a target, after all—they hadn't built a relationship like they'd accidentally done with Tommy, Techno, Phil, Kristin, Slime, Puffy, and Foolish.
It hit them both one day when talking about it that their closest friends were the only ones left, and that they'd have to kill them.
"We—We can't kill them, Quackity!" Wilbur cried to a solemn Quackity.
"I know," he mumbled.
"There has to be a way we can get around it—maybe they'll be willing to fake their deaths?"
"They'll hate us, Wilbur!"
"It's better than them being dead!" Wilbur responded, chest heaving. Quackity gave a guilty look and slowly walked closer to him and grabbed his hands.
"We'll—Look, we'll figure this out later, okay? We still have three more months to figure it out. For now, let's just enjoy their presence while we can."
Wilbur gave a meek nod as response, and so they did. They routinely went out with all of them as much as possible, and visited their apartments nearly every day. If they all noticed how much they clung to them, they didn't say anything.
Then one day, Quackity left Wilbur home alone to go hang out with Slime as everyone else was busy, and returned home alone with a solemn look on his face that told Wilbur he'd killed Slime. He tried to figure out why, but Quackity didn't want to talk about it. Eventually, he got Quackity to admit that Slime betrayed him, and so he left it at that.
Now there were only six left.
About a week after Slime's death, Kristin and Puffy proposed they all go to the park. Everyone else agreed, so Wilbur and Quackity decided to tag along.
They got ice cream first and sat and talked at one of the park's tables, and then somehow Tommy and Wilbur got into a play fight and started chasing each other around. After both of their phones fell out several times—nearly breaking them—they finally left them at the table with Kristin to continue throwing each other down in the dirt. Eventually, Techno joined, and so did Quackity and Foolish, leaving the three eldest friends to supervise while laughing.
Wilbur was laughing hard as he coughed out dirt when Kristin first called to him, claiming he was getting a call. "Just ignore it!" he responded. "I'll call back later!" He went back to roughhousing with his boyfriend and friends, not noticing when they called out to Quackity for his phone going off. Neither noticed when they said it several times, too distracted to pay much attention.
"Wilbur, you got a text!" Kristin called again, and Wilbur went to tell her to ignore it once more when he saw her face—confusion, worry, and fear was evident in her face, as well as Phil and Puffy. She met Wilbur's eyes. "It says 'run.'"
And that's when both Wilbur and Quackity realized their handlers had been trying to contact him.
Everything felt slow as they met each other's eyes, eyes going wide in fear—neither of them had been in this situation before, so they had no idea what to do. They couldn't even think of a plan either before all hell broke loose.
About twenty officers rushed out and surrounded them, using their cars as shields as they barked orders. "PUT YOUR HANDS UP!"
Of course, they all obeyed on instinct and out of fear. He could faintly hear Tommy asking what was going on, and Foolish trying to say they must 'have the wrong people,' but he was too busy trying to calculate a way out.
If 5up had texted him, did that mean he's on his way? Could he see them? He tried to subtly scan the perimeter to locate his handler—or at least Quackity's handler, Hafu.
"You six, move over here!" one police officer commanded their friends. "You two," he ordered, pointing at Wilbur and Quackity, "stay where you are. No one moves without instructions. No one moves too fast, or else we'll open fire!"
Their friends slowly went up to the police officer, who was asking them many questions. Then Phil gave the officers Wilbur's phone, making both partners in crime eye each other in fear, when it began ringing. The officer lifted a brow, and answered.
"Who is this?" the officer questioned.
"Someone you used to know," 5up's voice answered, and Wilbur and Quackity exchanged wide, excited grins.
They were here.
The officer continued trying to get more info—likely trying to gauge if they have the right people—but 5up was relentless in being extremely vague. The officers were clearly becoming agitated, and then one officer decided to step forward to check if they had weapons on them before arresting them.
She never made it more than two steps, however, as a grenade was thrown in the middle of them, exploding as they killed a few of them on sight. Wilbur and Quackity jumped to get their guns as officers began to fire, 5up and Hafu joining the fight to assist in killing them.
Wilbur had to admit, they had good aim—they already got Wilbur in his right arm and his chest, and Quackity got shot in his left ear and left hand. Unfortunately for them, the four of them had been practicing shooting since the day they turned seven years old. It wasn't long before they were down half their team.
"Wilbur!" 5up called. "Witnesses!"
Wilbur snapped his head around to see people scrambling to get out, but trying to avoid the stray bullets and grenades. He began to fire at random citizens trying to leave, and those already in their cars trying to make their getaway.
As they began to finish up killing the last cops, which Wilbur only suspected took so long because they were trying to protect him from getting shot and killed, Wilbur turned and his eyes landed on Tommy as his gun pointed in his direction.
Wilbur would think the rest of them had abandoned him, if he hadn't seen them come running back, screaming Tommy's name.
"Wilbur . . ?"
Wilbur couldn't bear to pull the trigger, no matter how much his hand tensed. He sounded so broken—he looked so broken. He couldn't handle it.
He heard 5up, Hafu, and Quackity running away, calling for him to join them in their escape.
He pointed his gun up to a tree, and pulled the trigger six times. Without sparing another glance, he turned around and ran to catch up.
"How many gunshot wounds does everyone have?" Hafu asked when Wilbur jumped in the car and 5up drove off.
"Two," Wilbur answered, trying to ignore the searing pain in his body. "Right arm and chest. Breathing hurts, moving my arm hurts, but I'm otherwise fine."
She nodded. "5up? Quackity?"
"Six," 5up answered, ignoring Hafu's frown. "All in the same leg and arm, surprisingly."
"Are you good to drive? I only got shot in my left leg, I don't need that to drive."
Her twin waved her off. "I'm fine, we're going to stop soon anyway, we can't risk being caught. You can take over then."
She nodded, and turned to Quackity. "You?"
"I got shot in my stomach," Quackity breathed, and Wilbur brought him into a hug—he was scared, what if Quackity didn't live? "I—I'm fine, I think, for now. I also got shot in my—my hand and foot."
"Alright," she responded. "Wilbur, there's a first aid and a stash of cloth under my seat, apply pressure to both of your major wounds, okay?"
He nodded, scrambling to get it all and hurried to press the cloth to his stomach. Once Quackity grabbed it and applied pressure, then Wilbur applied pressure to the wound on his chest.
"Calm your heartbeats, everyone," Hafu ordered and she fetched snacks. "Here, eat up to help with blood sugar and iron." They hurried to each grab their own snack and scarfed it down.
After a few hours, they eventually stopped at a dark and secluded spot off the road but not too far or too close for comfort. They couldn't afford going to a motel and getting tracked. Once they were parked though, they were able to mostly cover up the wounds and slow down the bleeding until they returned to the facility.
They exchanged small talk, getting comfortable enough to sleep in the car. Hafu had broken out some blankets from the trunk, as well as extra weapons and food. It made sense for her, considering she'd always been more prepared out of the set of twins.
Quackity began falling asleep first, since he suffered the worst injury, and leaned against Wilbur to sleep. Wilbur tried to move as much as he could without waking Quackity, until they were both laying across the seat, just with Wilbur's knees bent way more.
"So," 5up started as both Hafu and him eyed the two, "have anything to tell us?"
Wilbur slightly began to panic—the academy was very against romance in general. The only ones that got 'romance' were those that were deemed strong enough to reproduce so they were married to another assassin. Even then, if the company thought they grew fond of each other, they'd be separated.
Hafu began to chuckle. "Don't worry about the company's rule about romance with us, we find it utterly ridiculous. Plus, you two are so cute. We can keep your secret if you're together, you know."
Wilbur relaxed, offering a small, kind smile. "Yeah, we are."
Hafu grinned while 5up groaned, confusing Wilbur until Hafu spoke, "5up, you owe me twenty bucks!"
Wilbur laughed as 5up handed over the cash while grumbling. "So you two won't tell anyone?"
"Of course not," 5up assured. "Though you'll have to be married off soon—the higher ups are already asking us to arrange you two to be married—we can ask our friends if they have any secret lesbian lovers to try to come to an agreement with."
Wilbur smiled. "Thanks, guys. Better than nothing, I guess."
"Better than nothing," they responded.
"Don't make me beat the shit out of you in front of everyone!" Quackity shouted at Wilbur. Wilbur grinned.
"I'd like to see you try," he taunted. Just like clockwork, their targets interjected to break up the fight, just as they normally did.
"Guys! That's enough!" Scott Smajor demanded as he stood between them. "We were trying to have a good time here! Your children are watching, you think this is a good example for them?"
"I think anything having to do with putting Quackity in his place is a good example for Tallulah," Wilbur taunted.
"Really? I think it's a good time to show Tílin how to make a guy shut up!"
"Are you kidding me right now?" Smajor said, exasperated.
"Smajor, just give up," Kara advised. "Just leave them be, there's no getting through to them. Let's just go ahead and leave them be."
Smajor nodded. "Alright. You two can fight here. When you decide to play nice, you can join us. But you better behave if you show up, because, I swear to Prime, if we get kicked out because of your reckless behavior—!"
"Smajor, let's go!" Shubble Grace called. The group had already been walking away, so Smajor gave them one last glare before running to catch up to them.
They waited until the others had left to finally break character. Tílin ran up to Wilbur while Tallulah ran up to Quackity, squealing as they went for hugs, asking if they did good. Of course, the two assured them, they were the best.
"Has Hafu texted you?" Wilbur asked Quackity, who shrugged and went to balance Tallulah on his hip to fetch his phone. They were waiting for the twins to tell them they were there—they'd gotten to the meeting point, they distracted their friends, they had their stuff, and they were ready to go.
They were ready to escape from the company.
"Am I going to get my own room?" Tallulah asked.
"Probably not for a while," Wilbur responded with an apologetic frown. "We're going to be in a tough spot for the first bit after they realize we're gone, so we're going to need to be careful. But maybe one day we'll be able to get you your own room."
"Why don't you girls go play until Uncle 5up and Auntie Hafu get here?" Quackity asked, setting Tallulah down. Wilbur did the same with Tílin.
"Yeah, go run out your energy. We're going to be in the car for a while."
"How long?" Tílin asked.
"Probably an entire day or two."
Their eyes widened, and Wilbur couldn't help but chuckle. "A whole day?" they asked in unison.
"Well we have to get as far away as we can, mi hijas."
They frowned and awed but went off to play. They were running around for about ten minutes until 5up and Hafu pulled up in a new SUV that the two lovers could only assume was stolen. They got out and the two toddlers quickly ran up to them.
"Are you guys ready to go?"
"Yeah, just have to move our stuff into your car," Quackity answered. "I'll get it. Wilbur, get the girls to run for a few more minutes. Maybe they'll fall asleep in the car."
"We can only dream," Wilbur responded with a chuckle before turning to the girls and calling them back to go play. They did so for a few minutes, as Wilbur watched them while listening to the bickering between the three.
"Wilbur . . ?" a voice Wilbur faintly recognized called, and Wilbur turned and froze.
He knew those eyes. The body had aged, but those eyes were still Tommy. Behind him was an older Phil and Kristin, as well as an older Techno with brown hair.
"Tommy?"