under one roof

the face reveal

𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊

❀

bad and quackity were cooking breakfast together, they were yet to speak about it and quackity couldn't hold back the question that had been playing on his mind.

"is the cooking linked to your anxiety?" he asked randomly, gesturing to the waffle mix bad was working on before swallowing the forming lump in his throat, "you don't have to say i just-"

"yeah it is," bad interrupted with a shrug, looking down at the food, "it helps ground me i guess."

"i get it," quackity nodded. he wasn't really ready to talk about it yet, but he knows that feeling like you aren't alone can really help. "i uh-" he took a breath as bad turned to face him, "i was pretty depressed at my old place," he admitted.

bad furrowed his eyebrows, letting the whisk sit against the edge of the bowl as he moved his full attention to the ravenette.

"i wasn't uh, diagnosed or anything but i was really down for a very long time and i couldn't get out of bed or like eat properly," quackity explained, and bad nodded along to show he was listening, "no one ever noticed, or at least they didn't say anything," he shrugged, "and i just felt really useless."

bad swallowed, holding back from talking as he could see quackity wasn't finished.

"so i uh- i started to clean excessively and it was like getting unhealthy but it was really the only thing i thought i could do right," he sighed as he thought back to it, grimacing slightly, "it was probably a few months in that one of my friends started cleaning with me. it was weird and i struggled to like understand why he was joining me, but after letting him into that personal side of my life it helped me to open up and eventually got me out of that dark place i was in."

"i'm so sorry," bad apologised, frowning sympathetically, "that sounds like it was a really horrible time for you."

"bad," quackity sighed, realising the brunette wasn't picking up what he was trying to say, "you're in that time now."

"i'm not depressed," bad quickly dismissed, not wanting quackity to worry about something that wasn't true.

"i know, i know," quackity nodded, "but it's clear you have some kind of anxiety," he pointed out, receiving a small shrug, "and that's controlling your life the same way my depression did mine."

bad nodded slowly, not completely buying it but, at least, understanding what quackity was saying.

"have you ever tried therapy?" quackity asked.

"i'm not good at talking," the brunette quickly dismissed with a headshake.

"what about like, medication?"

"i've never really thought about it before," he admits.

quackity turns back to cooking as he continues to speak, knowing that the conversation would be easier for bad with a distraction. quackity explained the different types of medication to bad, going into details about their effects on neurotransmitters and the sedative properties, he explains what different kinds of typical and atypical medication did and their benefits. when he finishes, bad is surprised by his knowledge, and quackity explains that he may have stayed up all night researching when bad went to sleep yesterday.