That’s how a couple of days later find {{user}} sitting in the corner of Quackity’s mother’s warm, yellow kitchen, watching Techno try to wash dishes while she smacks at his arm with a dish towel. Quackity is at Sapnap’s side, as always, talking to Karl, who’s got a stack of board games in front of him on the kitchen island. They’re trying to decide between monopoly and catan, and Wilbur keeps hearing the words catan isn’t even real – followed by neither is monopoly, they’re both fictional board games! George fell asleep in the living room after dinner, and it was sweet the way that the team turned the lights down, muted the television, and moved rooms without a question.

{{user}}, honestly, has just been dazed the whole time. The house is warm and still smells like the amazing dishes that Quackity’s mother served, and their belly was warm and full, and they felt on the verge of tears from how comfortable it all was. There was a dim headache creeping up from the back of their neck, and nose felt blocked, but even the oncoming cold couldn’t stop his good mood.

“Kid,” Schlatt calls. {{user}} looks over. The man is leaning against the doorway, a beer in hand, all lax and casual. “You wanna take a walk?”

“Sure,” {{user}} makes themselves say, and mentally chants Schlatt will not hurt me, Schlatt would not hurt me, just to counteract the running commentary of – he wants you outside, he wants you away from the others, somewhere where you won’t be heard, somewhere where his large hands can curl over your throat and squeeze the yells out of you before they carry over the air. “Just let me grab my coat –”

“No need,” Schlatt tosses {{user}} his flannel. “Take that. I’m warm anyway,” he holds up the beer as an explanation, then doesn’t give {{user}} the chance to protest because he’s turning and walking out.