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“Absolutely not,” Quackity says, flipping through all the paperwork on his desk.
“C’mon Big Q, it's only for today, Boo and I will be back by tomorrow morning,” Tubbo tried convincing the older man. Quackity just cringed at the lovey dovey nickname.
He looked at the ram hybrid, annoyed then at the kid who was holding his hand and looking all around the room with that childly curiosity that made him just want to touch anything and everything those little arms of his would allow him to. He didn't even understand the reason for this favor. Tubbo said something about some journey Ranboo was insistent on going on but they couldn't bring Michael and for whatever reason Tommy was busy. He continued glaring at the kid until he looked up at Quackity and smiled so brightly it sickened the raven haired man.
“Y'all better be back before the sun even comes out,” he finally gave in, making the younger boy smile.
“Thank you Big Q,” he thanked and handed him a heavy backpack, “in here there are spare clothes and snacks for Michael in case he gets dirty or hungry before dinner. I also packed his favorite pillow and blanket for him to sleep with and if he has trouble falling asleep there’s a book you could read to him in there, it's also going to rain later so I've also packed his raincoat and umbrella in case you have to go out.” Quackity listened to the boy explain wondering why he didn't put this much effort into work.
“Now you listen to everything Quackity says and be a good boy. Dada and I will come get you tomorrow,” Tubbo told the kid, holding onto his smaller hands with his own scarred ones and spoke to him softly. Quackity watched and wondered just how fast time had gone by for the kid he once knew to be raising his own kid.
Quackity flinched when Michael pointed at him all of a sudden, “like ‘pa Phil, ‘pa Q!” he cheered, clapping his hands.
“No buddy not ‘pa, just Quackity,” he corrected the zombie piglin, holding onto his hands once again. It was obvious the kid was confused by the statement but was still too little to form proper sentences to express his thoughts and only repeated Quackity’s name.
“What’s he talking about?” the duck hybrid questioned. By the mention of Phil’s name he could already guess what the kid was getting at but he still had to ask to make sure. Tubbo stood up now and looked at Quackity a little hesitant to explain. “You're still technically my father Quackity, Michael believes you to be his grandfather because of it.”
He's not necessarily wrong, he and Schlatt never separated through divorce, the fucker just died and left evrything to Quackity, even his child. He was and still is Tubbo’s father by mutual agreement making Michaels statement correct, he was his grandfather but the thought of having a grandchild at this young age made Quackity a bit uncomfortable, they weren't even related by blood.
“Don't worry, he won't call you that, he's a fast learner and listens well.”
“Whatever, just come back by 8,” he said, turning away from looking at him.
“You got it Big Q, thanks again.”
“Yeah yeah.”
He said his final goodbyes to Quackity and Michael, giving his boy a kiss and a hug and left the hybrid's office, leaving the two alone. Quackity stared off into space for a while not really sure what he just agreed on until he was brought back by a tug on his pointer finger making him look down at the boy.
“Cookity!” he cheered again and looked just so happy.
Quackity laid his head in his hands as he took a small break from his paperwork, he'd been working nonstop since Tubbo had left and it was starting to get to him. He looked over at the sofas where the kid had been playing the entire time. He had a red crayon in one hand and a toy plane in the other dragging it around the air and making noises with his mouth as if it was actually flying before sitting on the floor in front of some paper the raven haired man had given him and continued drawing mid play. Surprisingly the kid was pretty low maintenance but he knew better than to underestimate the energy of a child, soon the kid was gonna get rowdy and Quackity was gonna be too tired to sit through it.
Quackity groaned loudly and nearly slammed his head on the desk catching Michael’s attention. He walked over to the man and pulled on his long sleeve. Quackity looked up and stared at the boy, waiting for it to talk.
“What? What do you need?” he asked when he wouldn't respond.
“Ok?” he asked.
“What?” he asked back, confused as to what the boy was trying to say, to him it sounded like he said "oj” in a questioning way. Did the kid want orange juice?
“You.” he pointed at Quackity making him more confused.
The kid just stared at Quackity for a long period of silence before it was interrupted by the growl of Quackity’s stomach, he hadn't eaten breakfast and it was almost past lunch time. The boy thought for a little while then went back to the sofas to look for something in the backpack Tubbo had given Quackity. He had apparently found it and walked back to Quackity’s desk. Without another word Michael began climbing onto his chair in the space Quackity’s legs did not occupy and used it to climb his desk afterwards accidentally hitting one of Quackity’s knees. Now sitting on the man's desk, Michael offered Quackity the bag of apple slices he had taken from the bag but Quackity just looked at him dumbfounded.
“You have for you tummy,” he said pointing at Quackity’s stomach and just in that moment it began to growl again. Michael took one of the slices, handing it to Quackity and Quackity accepted the offer thanking him. Michael smiled and began eating a slice himself. Quackity came to the realization that the kid was probably hungry himself. He himself couldn't cook, at least not well enough for a kid to enjoy, and decided to take him out to one of the restaurants for the both of them to eat.
At the restaurant Quackity worried about what Michael could and couldn't eat as Tubbo did not inform him of any dietary restriction or allergies the kid had but decided on chicken nuggets and fries since there was no way you could go wrong with such a simple dish. The food arrived shortly and immediately the boy reached for a fry and a chicken nugget trying to put both in his mouth. Quackity had put a bit of ketchup on his plate but soon began regretting his choice as Michael started getting really dirty. Not only his face but his clothes were starting to get ketchup all over them.
“Hey slow down now, you're making a mess,” Quackity told him using a napkin to clean him up as best he could.
“Drink some of your apple juice,” he said, grabbing the cup of juice and encouraging the young boy to drink from it, which he did.
Quackity smiled almost fondly at the boy as he watched him continue eating happily and was even offered a fry when he noticed the staring.
Next to him he heard someone clear their throat and he quickly turned his neck to look at whoever it was. It was Charlie staring between Quackity and Michael.
“What?” he snapped.
Charlie looked at Quackity and smiled like he usually did, “Hello Quackity from Las Nevadas may I ask who the kid is?”
“He’s Tubbo and Ranboo’s child, Michael,” he introduced the kid and he looked up at Charlie with curiosity.
“An enderman and a ram hybrid can make a zombie piglin?” he asked.
“No charlie, he's not their actual kid.” just like Tubbo wasn't his real son.
“They saved him from the nether and adopted him,” he explained.
“I see, hello Michael from the nether, how are you?”
Michael said a small hello before going back to eating his food. Charlie was now next to the boy and began messing and poking at his skin and hair. Christ, it felt like he was in the presence of two children.
“Does this make him yours too?” Charlie asked. Quackity had told him of his previous relations and was surprised when the slime actually conceded the dots and related Tubbo and Quackity calling them family but he had to correct him that they were not blood and if it wasn't for that whole fiasco Quackity would most definitely would not have a child, he couldn't.
“Charlie, what did you need?”
“Oh right, Foolish from Las Nevadas asks for you to look at the repairs he made in the previous buildings and asks if they're up to your liking,” he said handing the duck hybrid a clipboard of all the buildings Quackity had previously asked Foolish to fix a couple days back. Quackity sighs already overwhelmed by the need to finish his work. Sure it was an easy task but Quackity still had the kid and he wasn't sure he could leave him alone even for a couple of hours. He could also leave the work for tomorrow when he was gone but he didn't like pushing back such an easy task. Seeing no other choice, Quackity reluctantly decided to bring the kid with him and try finishing the task as fast as possible.
Walking out the restaurant Quackity notices that it started to drizzle and he curses the world for making today even harder than it already was.
“Fucking bullshit,” he mumbles under his breath helping the kid into his raincoat that Tubbo had packed into the backpack, thank god he brought it with him to the restaurant.
“Ba,” Michael made a noise.
“Don't repeat that,” he told the little one. He was almost certain the boy knew a couple of curse words with the way Tubbo spoke on a regular basis in what was supposed to be a professional work environment but he still didn't want to be blamed for the probability that he didn't know and repeated it one day in front of his parents.
He began dragging the kid around, taking him by the hand (because Quackity knew better than to leave the kid to walk on his own) and leading him all over Las Nevadas. He expected him to get tired easily but he still surprisingly had just as much energy as he did back at the office, running around the place when he wasn't holding Quackity’s hand and even dragging him when Quackity was going too slow.
For an “easy task” it sure was getting on Quackity’s nerves when it started taking longer than he wanted it too. By now the rain had picked up, not really a downpour but enough to completely soak Quackity’s clothing the more he stood in the rain. He was trying to walk as fast as possible to the next building muttering about the idiots working in the building they had just come out of and how they had already messed up the work Foolish had put into fixing this shit show and it pissed Quackity off the more he thought about it. Behind him Michael tried his best to catch up to the older man as he had forgotten to keep hold of his hand and almost didn't notice him leaving. He tried calling out to him a couple of times to get his attention to no avail. He tried increasing his speed but with his little legs he didn't get that far and Quackity was just getting farther and farther. Quackity hadn't even noticed the boy behind him until he heard a loud thud and a splash of water. That's when he remembered Michael and turned around horrified to find the boy had tripped and fallen on the ground. He quickly ran back to the boy and picked him up, placing him back on his own two feet. For a moment he was silent and unmoving but soon began crying and holding his knee drawing Quackity’s attention to it. He was bleeding, probably scrapped it when he fell and now there was blood going down his leg due to the water and making it looks much worse than it probably was but the way the boy was crying made it obvious to Quackity that the pain he was experiencing was insufferable to him as he was still a kid.
Quackity panicked, it's something he always seemed to do when anyone cried and he tried reaching for the backpack but realized he had left it back at the last building they were in. Michael was now crying harder, calling out for his fathers in a desperate attempt to get help, he even called for Tommy but they would not show up.
“Please don't cry Michael, I'll…” he tried comforting the boy, looking around to see what he could do. They were too far away from the building to turn back but they were also too far away from the hotel.
“I’ll.. i’ll,”he stuttered and bent down to look at the boy still trying to figure out what to do. He could carry Michael to either location but Quackity no longer trusted himself with the small child, not after he had shamefully forgotten and left the boy alone. That was his problem he was too careless and led to someone getting hurt. He had left Michael alone and now he was crying. In his mind Quackity believed the boy though he was back in the nether, left alone and abandoned again, nothing he could do or say would bring any comfort to the boy. He thought back to the other times he'd done this, he'd thought back to Tubbo. At some point back then he'd also left Tubbo alone, not once but twice, and in both cases the boy had gotten hurt at his expense. He saw too much of Tubbo in Michael even if he wasn’t his biological kid a big part of Tubbo could be seen in the small zombie piglin and Quackity didn't like it. The way the boy cried just proved that he had failed him just like he had failed Tubbo. He should've done more to help the younger boy, should've gone to find him after the festival and he should've helped with the presidency but he just ran away like a coward. He knew Schlatt wasn't a good father but it didn't mean Quackity was any better and that's why he could never step up now that Schlatt was gone, even if Tubbo still accepted him as family and thanked him for what he'd done Quackity couldn't do the same. He wasn't fit to be a father, he wasn't responsible enough to be trusted to keep another person safe and it was proven each and every time with Tubbo because no matter how hard he tried to help the young ram hybrid still got hurt all over and almost died, now he had done the same thing to his son.
“Lo siento,” he started crying.
“No llores, lo siento.” he began pleading, wrapping his arms around the boy as they both cried.
“I'm sorry I couldn't keep you safe, I tried, I really did,” he told the boy wishing he could say this to more than just him.
“Por favor no llores niño bonito.”
Michael’s crying had calmed down now replaced by Quackity cries. He wasn't sure why the man was crying now, didn't understand what the words he was saying meant but assumed he was also hurt like him and tried hugging Quackity as best he could and making soft shushing noises like his fathers would do when he cried.
“No lloes,’ he tried repeating what Quackity said, completely missing the r’s but Quackity still heard and understood him. Michael reached down to where he had dropped his umbrella and lifted it to cover both him and Quackity as best he could. He looked at Quackity who was watching him the entire time and smiled, reassuring him, he was ok. The raven haired man had calmed down now and tried drying both his and Michael’s tears though the rain had managed to wet their faces more than the actual tears. He picked up Michael and carried him in his arms as he made his way to the hotel.
Quackity had sent for someone to retrieve the backpack and bathed Michael while waiting for them to return so the boy wouldn't catch a cold. He himself only changed out of his wet clothes and into his sleeping clothes, drying his hair with a towel as he walked out of the bathroom. Michael was sitting on his bed scribbling away on a piece of paper again. Quackity sat next to him and patched up the injury with a bandaid, it wasn’t bleeding anymore but he didn’t want the fabric of the bed sheets to irritate and cause the wound to hurt again. He began playing with the boy's hair slowly combing it with his fingers. After a while he apologized to Michael again, still guilty that all of this could have been avoided if he was just paying more attention.
“It ok,” he said, “papa say you nee to be bwave even when you cwy,” he explained the best he can, probably referring to something Tubbo had told him in the past. Quackity smiled.
“You're very brave, just like your papa.”
They both fall asleep not long after and are awake by the time the sun starts peeking out from the horizon. Tubbo and Ranboo are a little late but that's ok because Quackity is also running late in packing all of the boys' stuff. When they do arrive they are immediately too loud for Quackity to deal with this early in the morning.
“Sorry we’re late Big Q,” Tubbo apologized but Quackity didn't really care or mean it when he told them to get here at the crack of dawn.
“Hello Michael, how was your time with Quackity?” Ranboo asked the small boy, picking him up and putting him in their arms.
“So fun!” he exclaimed, jumping up in his parents arms.
“Thanks again for taking care of Michael for us Big Q,” Tubbo thanked again, taking the backpack from the duck hybrid's hands.
“Yeah no problem,” he looked at the boy once again and hesitated to speak.
“Hey if you ever need a babysitter I don't mind taking care of the boy for a couple of hours again or maybe we could even go out together sometime and do something I don't know.”
“Oh,” the two looked at each other, shocked by the duck hybrid's offer.
“That sounds nice actually, sure we can do that,” Tubbo smiled at Quackity, genuinely happy at the suggestion and already thinking of things they could do together.
“Say bye bye to Quackity, Michael,” Ranboo said, waving their hand for Michael to copy him.
“Bye bye ‘pa Q!” he said.
Quackity smiled, waving goodbye to his grandchild.