For Our Own Sake

2. Regretfully Trusting

A//N: heyo, simple fan here, just letting you guys know (because I know some people don't read this type of stuff) somebody does throw up. It's not graphic in any sense but I still wanted to let you know.

Quackity wakes up with that paranoid parasite that the apocalypse brought, itching his mind. Even in his supposedly safe little apartment, he can't seem to relax. It scratches at his mind, eyeing everything as he sits up on the couch.

He doesn't need this right now. He just woke up and already feels on edge. Why? That's what he's trying to figure out.

Quackity looks over at the front door, it's closed. Huh. Nothing looks out of place. Odd. So his brain was just being dumb and still continues to be as he stands up. He can't shake the intruding feeling that twists in his stomach. Did he forget something?

Quackity's body halts when he faces the bedroom door. It's wide open and Quackity quickly remembers. 'Oh yeah, that Wilbur guy.'

Then it hits Quackity. 'Oh shit, that Wilbur guy-'

That Wilbur guy wasn't in the bedroom. Quackity groans, remembering how he didn't lock the door last night, distracted with his own things to take care of after dinner.

Quackity tenses, wondering where Wilbur could have gone when he realized the door was unlocked. Did he leave? Oh god, didn't Quackity give him weapons? Quackity should've closed the stupid door.

Quackity shakes his head, he shouldn't have given Wilbur even the bittest bit of trust- even if he did. Well, leaving the door unlocked might lead to a yes, yes he did. Quackity has to face the reality that he met this man only yesterday, hours of banter and laugh shouldn't immediately make Quackity trust him.

Should he be worried now? The reasonable side of him forces him to say yes and start nervously making his way to the front door. What if Wilbur left?

The other side of Quackity feels disappointed if that's the case, hurt even. He sighs, he shouldn't be if Wilbur left. Sure he said he wanted to stay, but staying the night just to take his supplies back and leave seems like something even Quackity himself would do. Curse him and his longing desire to talk with somebody, to have even the most simple interactions, now he can't decide whether to wonder if Wilbur left, if he's trustworthy, and now wondering whether Wilbur staying meant he could trust him or not.

Quackity jumps when he hears a door open, snapping his head to see Wilbur- Wilbur just walking out of the bathroom, calm and unaware of Quackity's running mind and wide eyes.

"You- Wilbur?"

Wilbur looks over at him, nodding his head up with a hum. "Yes?"

Quackity doesn't respond for a second, unsure of almost everything from before. He's been so damn paranoid since he woke up, mind painfully alert. He tries to shove it away, clearing his throat. "Nothing, just- I mean, yea, it's nothing."

Quackity feels Wilbur's glare on him, like he's trying to figure out whether Quackity was even speaking English or not. Eventually, with a sigh, Wilbur must've decided that Quackity wasn't saying something completely incomprehensible as he shrugs. "Alright. I was just washing up my face, haven't seen a working sink in ages so I had to take the opportunity to brush up a bit."

Oh, he was getting ready for the day while making Quackity's head spin with uncertainty at the same time. Good to know. Quackity almost feels embarrassed. Almost, he mostly still feels like his body and brain are trying to reach two different goals, one that thinks he can trust Wilbur and the other that doesn't. Utterly ridiculous.

"What?"

Quackity blinks up at Wilbur. "What 'what'?"

"You shook your head at me." Wilbur states, gesturing towards Quackity before patting down his brown hair, probably suspecting Quackity shook his head at the way he looked.