"...I don't know.

I mean, he seems— more okay than most of the people I'm close to? But, like, everyone I'm close to is the last survivor of a death arena and I have a friend who I've literally never seen happy except when he was high, that doesn't mean shit. I don't think he's totally miserable but I don't know him that well, if he was would I have any idea, I'm not sure I would.

He's alive. He didn't get thrown into a death arena. He and Tubbo live together. I— don't actually think that answers your question but it's the answer I have." 

More complicated emotions!!!

“Okay. Thank you.

Well, I’m glad he didn’t get thrown into a death arena.”

"Yeah. He got-- really lucky there, honestly. Most people who get picked don't have anyone who'll volunteer for them." 

“—Tubbo?”

"Yep."

“Good. I’m glad they have each other.”

"Yeah. Tubbo's--" brilliant and incredible and Quackity's responsibility and Quackity is failing him so badly-- "a really good kid." 

“He is. I told him so once, but it was under— unfortunate circumstances.”

"How concerned should I be?"

“—It was the day I died. It’s—I’d say things are better now. But I haven’t talked to him since.”

"Shit. I'm sorry." 

...he probably could say out loud what he's worried about, all the ways he's failing Tubbo by not being there. It probably wouldn't even have horrifying consequences. Except that something in him panics when he considers it, drowns out the thought with nonono do you want to die. He doesn't say it. 

“It’s fine. What about you and your Tubbo, given him any inspiring speeches recently?”

"...before I arrived here, I was in the Capitol for the week, and I'd promised him I'd file something for him at the transportation bureau while I was there. I— didn't leave on purpose. I honestly still have no idea how it happened. But I kind of expect that that's not happening now. 

That's, uh, a small piece of a problem that's bigger, but I—" and his voice stops working, stoppers up in his throat as he hits a brick wall of no. Deep breath. Trying again. "I—" 

"You don't have to say if you don't want to."

"No, I want to, I just—" He swallows. His voice is shaky and he can't quite make it not be. "—um. I am not, usually, allowed to talk about this. I don't think anything's going to happen, if I say it here, but. Apparently that habit's sticking around.

Anyway. I miss him and I'm failing him and I can't, like, do anything about that, but here we are." 

"You're probably doing better by your Tubbo than I did by mine, if that's any comfort. It's not your fault that you ended up here."

"Does it matter? It's not like anyone there can tell whether I did it on purpose." 

"Obviously it matters, you can't just--hold it against yourself that something happened to you."

"Can't I? There are people I was supposed to be there for. I'm not. 

I know it's not, like, my fault. I'm not going--" he puts on a bad imitation of Wilbur's accent-- "'oh, look at me, I'm so horrible, I abandoned everyone who cared about me and threw everyone I've ever loved under the bus on purpose,' or whatever, that'd be fucking stupid. But at the end of the day, I got out and they're suffering for it." 

"I guess. Sorry you didn't get the chance to file his paperwork for him."

"Do you actually think that's the thing I care about, or did you sign some kind of contract and now you're only allowed to be decent for three seconds at a time? I'm the only person in George's life who remembers he's not supposed to mix tranqs and alcohol or pays enough attention to stop him, and now I'm not there. When the next Hunger Games rolls around, Tubbo's going to have to take on a kid and watch them die his first year out, because I'm not there! I was the reason my sister wasn't worried about her kids having enough to eat, and now I'm not fucking there." 

"I'm not a decent person, Quackity. If you want to leave, I'm not stopping you."

"If I wanted to leave, I'd have fucking left!"

(Is this mostly because he's caught between backing down and losing the closest thing he has to a friend here? Yes. Does he mean it? Also yes. He's multitalented.) 

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say here.”

"'I'm sorry' is a good start. --Thank you."