Archive of Our Own ^beta

Quackity just stares at his husbands dead body, chest heaving as his fingertips tingle with adrenaline. The axe is still deeply embedded in Schlatt's chest, cracking open his sternum in one go. Well, it's better way to go than that heart attack he had been fretting over in private.

The avian feels unclean. Stickiness resides on his flesh. The residue of red sits heavy on his clothing. Fuck, he has to explain Schlatt's death to Tubbo, craft a fine tuned lie that the media will believe after he cleans himself up and disposes of his gloves. He cannot play this off as extreme cardiac arrest even if he tried.

He walks down the hallway to where their semblance of a bath tub resides. He reeks of blood and he hopes Tubbo and Tommy can sleep through the stench of blood and the sound of a blackout drunk Schlatt being murdered. He knows his son can, he sleeps with the same habits as Schlatt, heavy, dense, determined.

The hot water hits him like bullets as he tries to scrub himself clean of the guilt for his actions. He has a hard time removing the worry of never finding a replacement for his spouse. He has an extra hard time feeling like he doesn't smell and look like death reincarnate with the hint of blood he got onto himself in the heat of the moment. He wraps a towel across his waist and squeezes out as much water from his hair as he could as he towels down a wing.

Then there's a bloodcurdling scream.

Fuck.

He hadn't fully finished the scene yet to get his ass out of the frame by breaking a window for good measure. He's ruined if this is Tubbo, his son is a god damn genius who'll know who did it within seconds of it happening. If it's Tommy, well, Tommy is a bit less intellectually adept than Tubbo. He can point a finger and state the obvious, but he can't back it up aside from 'just look at it!' which may save Quackity.

He wraps the towel around his waist and walks out to the kitchen where he knows Tommy is standing appalled as he stares at Schlatts body. He walks out, goes to ask what's wrong and gives a shriek that's faked as he glances at his husbands body. He'll tell Tubbo in the morning, right now he needs to convince Tommy to try and go back to sleep.

"Who would do that?" Tommy asked as Quackity walked him down the hall.

He shrugged, "Someone who really didn't like Schlatt."

Tommy nodded, "I think I know who did it."

"Who do you think it is?" Quackity asked with a raised brow.

And Tommy just gave a laugh, "It's a bit too late to start the cork board of suspects, don't ya think?"

Quackity nods.

Tommy knows.

He'll have to be killed, just to cover his tracks, because fuck that kid spreads rumors fast if he wants too. It'll break Tubbos heart when his best friend has to die but Quackity's going to do it for the safety of the family. For the safety of his legacy. Nothing will go wrong so long as he keeps his tracks nice and neat, all pinned on someone else, someone like Dream.

Quackity decides to do it the long way for Tommy, poison, a gradually larger dosage as time passes. Every visit he spikes his dish, whether it be Tommy coming over or Tubbo going out. He's begun to tag along, because 'hey, Wilburs pretty hot' and he's said to to Philza before who just trusts that no harm will come his eldest sons way.

Sure, it takes a considerable amount of weeks before the poison starts to have visible effects, but he deems it worth it. Watching as Tommy falls prey to a terrible illness that nobody can identify, having him still visit because Ponk said it isn't viral. That's when he can slip the real killers directly into Tommy's food, where he doesn't have to work around two diligent chefs while he plates the meal.

He hates himself for it somewhere along the line as he listens to Tommy retch and watches him lose balance and his skin grow thin and pale. What a lively boy being turned to a husk of his former self because he was unfortunate enough to know the truth behind Schlatt's death. Maybe if he didn't sleep over he'd still be healthy and Quackity wouldn't be poisoning him with a feared amount of skill.

It's only when Tommy is bedridden that Quackity's visits start to intersperse a bit more. The blondes fate is already sealed, why bother giving more he could cause him to drop dead during dinner. Philza would let Technoblade do a swift search after the initial panic, and the stupid piglin would be able to match the poison on the food to the poison in the vial. He'd be decimated for killing a gods partial son, instantly and without remorse for Tubbo having to watch. So instead he sends get well bouquets of flowers which he knows make Tommy sneeze.

He isn't there when Tommy finally croaks but Tubbo and Technoblade are, so is Philza. Wilbur and Quackity are out on a date, completely oblivious to the grief Wilbur will soon experience and the plans coming together. When the last breath is drawn Philza and Technoblade share a look, a small knife in hand. Tubbo is still crying, clutching Tommy tight.

"Do you think you can sniff out whatever got him, Tech?" Philza asked.

And Technoblade just nodded, "I already have my suspicions, Phil. We should confirm who killed our son before I make any bold vows."

Philza gently sits down beside Tubbo and raises his head, "We're gonna find out what killed him."

Tubbo nodded, watching as Philza cut a small slice out of what little was left of Tommy. The blonde stood up and held out his hand to Technoblade, thin slice in the center of his palm as the piglin sniffed it and licked at it before eating it. He cringes back in extreme disgust before spitting it out and he shudders visibly.

"Poison," Is all he says, "Lots of poison."

Tubbo nodded, "I'm sorry for your loss."

Technoblade snuffles at the residual blood left on Philza's hand, trying to match the poison with someone else, "Tubbo, did Quackity ever have any odd potions on hand?"

Tubbo sighed, "I knew what he was doing, I'm so sorry! I could've stopped it and I said nothing!"

Arms wrap tightly around Tubbo, "You were scared mate, do you know why he did it?"

"Tommy knew that Quackity killed Schlatt," Tubbo said quietly, a crack of tears evident on his voice as he muffled it in Philza's shoulder.

A tremor of fear shoots through Technoblade and Philza at the confession. They aren't fucked themselves, being immortals and all, but Tubbo? Quackity's son? He isn't immune to whatever wrath Quackity has in store for whoever knows how Tommy died.

"We'll take care of you mate,"

"We promise it, Phil's pretty serious 'bout that sorta shit,"

Tubbo knows.

And Quackity has a good feeling that his son knows what happens to those who have a little bit too much information on hand.