Us. Always.|karlnapity|trans quackity au

Chapter 35: tough

(Editor Error: SHIT FUCK I FORGOT THE TWs)

Tw:implied disordered eating (one paragraph warning(s)), violence (one paragraph warning(s)), implied main character death (warned), funerals (warned)

- Quackity pov, the present -

I am so, so tired.

I leave Room Two, leaving a sleeping Karl with a post-it note on the bedside.

'I'm in the grounds with Eret :) - Q'

❗one paragraph warning for implied disordered eating❗     After Eret gives me some toast ("I won't train you if you don't eat well enough to support it,") we grab our swords (iron, blunted) and head out to the grounds.

- Eret pov, three days earlier -

 "Listen, I just don't think-" I start, us talking in the common room.

"I need to be able to defend myself." he says, more than a hint of desperation in his voice.

"You literally came back from the dead a week ago." 

"I'm not made of glass, you know. I'm alive and well."

"I know that, but you need time to recover."

"I'm fine."

"In the nicest way possible, you're really not." I really worry for his health sometimes. From unsafe binding to literally fucking dying, I swear to Prime that this man is going to turn my hair white one day.

❗one paragraph warning for violence❗"I don't need therapy, I need to beat him to a pulp." He balls his fists.

"This is exactly why I'm not training you." Training out of anger is never a good idea- because when that anger runs out, you have nothing to fall back on. Though, I feel like his fury is boundless. And that's a good tool, used correctly.

He would set the world on fire just to watch HIM burn, sparing only the few he cares for.

Unfortunately, with recent events, that list is becoming dangerously short.

For a lawyer, his morals are surprisingly grey.

"You don't understand... I need to protect myself." His voice softens.

"Well, help me understand. You don't have to if you don't want to, but when you're ready. A problem shared is a problem halved, Quack."

He crosses his arms and looks away.

Tears well in his eyes, and he takes a few shaky breaths.

"Please. Just teach me to fight. I'll do anything." He's near tears. 

Anything?

There's only one thing I would ever want him to do.

"Take better care of yourself."

"I can try."

"Promise me you'll try your hardest." I understand that he's struggling, and I understand he can't promise to do it. But he can promise to try, and that's all I want.

 "I swear on my life." he says, the tears finally spilling.

- the present -

"Okay, keep your stance stable- stop shifting around- legs hip distance apart- that's shoulder distance-"

 "How should I know what the difference is?!" He snaps.

 "You know what, it's fine, stance doesn't really matter anyway. If you're going to fight, you're going to move. The stance should come naturally."