…Squint. The lighting’s bad in the cell but it’s not that bad. “Why don’t you have your scar?”

Hm. If he's very, very lucky, Sam will think he's doing something bizarre and galaxy-brained, and then he won't ask other-Quackity what that was about.

"Very weird reasons which I expect you wouldn't believe me about. --I can go into it if you actually wanna know, I'm just, like, warning you that it's weird and you're not going to believe me." 

“Obviously I wanna know.”

He sounds like Dream again. Q doesn't look at his face, watches his hands instead. 

"Someone's theory is that I'm Quackity's evil clone." He's not naming Wilbur. "I've never had that scar." 

“Huh.” He’s not sure if he’s telling the full truth. Still. “And why do you think I’m in here?”

"You know, I asked a couple different people, and none of their answers were remotely coherent? Like, not coherent to the point where I'm not even sure I'd have a guess." Sorry Sapnap. Please let Sam not ask Sapnap about this. "Apparently you tried to kill two people and had a weird vault and a creepy villain speech, and apparently you resurrected Wilbur, and that's as much as I've got. Which is why I'm asking you." 

“You should ask Tommy.” His voice has a smile in it, but it’s a weird smile, like the one he puts on when talking about the Games in interviews. “Unless you already did, I mean. I don’t know that he’ll be coherent. He’ll be interesting.”

...interesting answer. Interesting tone of voice. Interesting choice of deflection. 

"Well, seeing as he's not here, what's your version?" 

“I’d say—mm, you heard about right. I wasn’t going to kill anyone. But I see why, I see why they would think I was. Two people sounds— a bit exaggerated. And reviving Wilbur was after I was already in prison. But I did, I did do those things. I’d say—I’d say I had my reasons. But I don’t want to talk about them.” He’s still shaking in the corner, hugging his knees to his chest. 

That is also a total non-answer. It's what you say to an interviewer when you're trying not to give them anything real. He's seen this routine. He's run this routine. It's a totally reasonable routine to run in these circumstances but that doesn't mean he doesn't know what it is. 

"Sure," he says. "Anything you do want to talk about?" 

It might not be the same Quackity.
But it also might be. 

“Not to you.” 

He sounds somewhere between petulant and desperate. 

"Legit." Pause. "...anything you want me to say to other people? George in particular is apparently hard to reach but I can, like, try." 

He thinks for a moment, pulls out a notebook, opens it to a blank page, writes :)

”Show this to Ranboo.”

"...sure." 

He stands up. 

"Hey, Sam, I think we're done." 

If Quackity were a normal visitor, he’d be asked to stand in the corner, but he’s not, he has items. 

Sam’s voice over the speakers: “Please stand on the other side of the barrier so I can raise it. Do not let Dream join you.”

Then he'll do that. 

Dream isn’t planning on cooperating. He runs, fast, to stand on the other side of the barrier, before Sam’s even done talking, and then stares straight at Quackity, chin high, daring him to do something about it. 

Shit. Okay. He really cannot afford to make Sam unambiguously want to hurt him. He really doesn't want to draw a weapon or hurt Dream. 

This Dream, unlike the one he knows, is not jacked, but Quackity is also not strong and Dream has a solid seven inches of height on him. He can try to push him back over the barrier. Or he can do something else. "Dude, this is not going to leave you better off, you've gotta know that." 

"...You're the most interesting thing that's happened in a week." A little bit of weakness, of vulnerability, can be a good manipulation, and he doesn't exactly have much pride in here. Or at least that's what Dream tells himself. (It helps that it's true.)

"--I'm not, like, in a hurry? I'd be happy to stay, just, you said you didn't want to talk to me, that seemed fair enough." 

Okay. He did admittedly say that. 

“…That doesn’t mean I want you to leave. It just means I’m not going to, like, tell you my secrets.”

It sounds weak, even to him. But he’s a little bit desperate. 

"I will not ask about your secrets." Then, for Sam, pitched to carry, "nevermind, we're not done, sorry!" 

Dream considers running back to the corner, but this could be a trick. He stays next to Quackity, still eyeing him warily, all the muscles in his body tense, ready to run, braced for pain. 

It doesn't arrive. The weapons don't come out. Quackity's body language does relax, somewhat— not a lot, he's still in armor and also very stressed, but he's not considering whether he could pick Dream up and move him if he had to and so he can at least on a physical level chill out. A little bit, anyway. 

"So— hm. Me asking the questions seems kind of fraught but asking you to also seems kind of fraught?" 

Dream doesn’t say anything. Is Quackity still on the other side of where the barrier can come up? If not, he returns to his corner. If so, he stays next to Quackity.