Louie's pov

"Maybe a touch of...no. Why can't I find the solution?!" Huey groans, laying his head on his desk briefly before popping up and scribbling a new idea.

"Hue, you haven't eaten or rested in the last 24 hours. I've been counting because I'm worried." I whisper.

"Don't worry about me. I'm going to be fine. I just have to finish up this project. I was told I'd never be able to do it. I want to prove them wrong." Huey says, not looking up from writing down his theories.

"Hue, we don't care about if you're smart or not, which you are very smart. We only care about spending time with you. Please? Lou and I were promised a video game session 24 hours ago!" Dewey steps in.

"I'm sorry, Dew. We have the whole week though that I can work on this because of the school repairs being done. You should really do your own homework, Dew. I already helped Louie and you need to raise your grades to pass in math. You do well in History, Science, Geography, and all that. It's mainly just math. You even wrote very well. Why is that?" Huey randomly starts talking to Dewey.

I look to Dewey to see what he will say.

"Yeah. I'm good at History and Geography because of my interest in adventure and mystery, I do well in writing because I always have so many feeling to share even if they aren't spelled right or punctuated right, and I do well in Science because I watch you all the time and I learn from you." Dewey lists off.

Huey puts down his work to come and hug Dewey.

I whimper softly.

I've asked him for that for a whole day now.

Why can he give it to Dewey but not me?

"Thanks, Dew. That Science grade means a lot. You know what, you can help with my project. It's an odd one, but it saves money and currency and it keeps kids happy." Huey explains.

I sit here quietly.

He hasn't forgotten about me, right?

Huey brings Dewey over and starts explaining his project.

"Why not add this stuff? It's lavender. It helps you sleep at night. It would improve the smell too." Dewey notes.

Since when did he become smart?

What are they even talking about?

"What's the project?" I ask, trying to get included even if it meant doing boring nerd stuff.

"Oh! Louie! I didn't know you were here! We were just taking this old nail polish of Webby's and seeing if there's any way to fix it again so no one has to buy more junk and we are improving smell, paint ability, texture, clean up..." Huey goes on and on about his weird project.

"Yeah. No one ever notices. I'm invisible. I can say this without you guys saying anything about it." I whisper, just to see if they would take a moment to listen to me.

I guess it didn't.

"Lavender though, Dew? I don't know. It might be a fail with the...wait...I can't think of anything! We have to try adding some!" Huey exclaims.

I watch as they rush around grabbing a bunch of just and testing stuff in some sort of way.

I just slip out of the room easily, tripping and falling over a spare thing for the project, but no one seems to notice or care.

I shrug and decide to go amuse myself in a different way as always.

My wonderful, beautiful, tv.

I flop on the couch and turn the tv on, hearing my brothers cheer loudly from the other room.

I feel a bit hurt, but it's nothing I'm not used to already.

I hear them chanting something about ice cream.

I don't like ice cream very much.

I'm also slightly lactose intolerant and that wouldn't be great for me.

I decide not to even try to go along with them.

"We're going out for ice cream!" Dewey shouts.

A few seconds later, I hear them leave and I go to the window to watch as they practically skip down the driveway to go get ice cream.

I stay there until I can't see them anymore, and then my heart sinks.

Maybe there's something else for me to do that would be more fun than spending time with my brothers.

Very unlikely, but I can always try.

I go to the kitchen and grab a soda. I decide to just drown myself in soda.

I sip on my soda while watching another stupid episode of 'Ottoman Empire.'

I only watch that to try and keep my mind off of my brothers.

I groan as my stomach growls, upset that soda is the only thing in it since...2 days ago?

I don't even know anymore.

My memory used to be great.

I could memorize whole chapters of books before with ease.

At church, when we had to memorize a Bible verse in a week and everyone was still struggling with that, I'd be saying the whole entire chapter for a challenge.

It doesn't take work.

Or it didn't at least.

I could look at it once or twice and have it all memorized and known by heart.

I had plaques up in my church and everything from my memory.

Now, I can't seem to remember my own name sometimes.

I always remember my brothers' names though.

I could never forget one simple detail about them.

Selfish.

They call me selfish.

I feel selfish.

All I ever want is to hangout with my brothers...not that I'd ever admit it to them.

I try and stay cool, but I honestly am only a baby.

No matter how much I try and be cool, smooth, and act as old as my brothers because I am as old as them, but I always end up just being a baby.

I feel like I am intruding and being the annoying tagalong if I try and join up with my brothers.

I don't want to mess up whatever they have going.

They seem to be so close and I'm...well...I feel like they just include me sometimes because they have to.

I know they'd even rather have Webby over me.

It's obvious.

She took my spot at the dinner table and everything.

This is where I start allowing my tears to dance down my cheeks.

My actions and emotions have caught up with my thoughts.

This always happens.

I shake slightly and I pull my knees to my chest.

They don't know.

They won't know.

No one would understand.

No one would get it at all.

They tease about my hood and ask what I'm hiding.

Scars.

I'm hiding scars.

Every time I annoy my brothers or make them upset or anything of that sort really, I beat myself up for it.

I hate myself whenever I make anyone the slightest bit annoyed or upset.

I close my eyes as tears keep streaming down my cheeks, making my whole face dampen.

I'm a crybaby is another thing.

Not only am I a baby, I'm a cry baby.

I cry at everything.

If something stings the slightest bit, I'm going to tear up and cry.

I can't help it; it just happens.

I cry when I'm happy, sad, angry, and pretty much everything else.

The hoodie makes me feel safer though.

Before I had my hood that I could hide away in and just be surrounded by its warmth and comfort, I never stopped crying and I had to constantly be taken to the doctor to try and figure out a solution for it.

There wasn't one really.

I always just tried to hide away under my blanket and I wouldn't come out because that's where I got my comfort from.

My brothers were too busy with their own things.

Huey would constantly be experimenting and creating new things with objects such as building blocks.

Dewey would always be running around, tumbling, dancing, and knocking down Huey's building blocks.

We can't forget Dewey's running and screaming toys though.

I'd lay there with my blanket trying to sooth my headache from all the constant noise and action.

One day, it was time for me to go to dance and all the girls made fun of me since I was a boy dancing.

I hated it because I loved dance.

Della had always loved dancing too, so I guess that's why my dad put us into dance.

Yeah, I call Donald Duck my dad.

Some people say it's stupid and he's not really my dad.

He has been here with me my whole life, he has raised me, he has loved me, he's never left me, he's been there when my brothers weren't.

If that isn't a father, I don't know what is.

Speaking of him, I should probably go see my dad.

I drag myself up and get dizzy.

This is probably from sitting so long.

I should be active again.

I start stretching and then I go to the workout center room and get on the bike machine thing.

I stay there for about 30 minutes and I start getting really dizzy and I have to sit there panting heavily, leaning against the front of the bike machine, still sitting on it.

A ridiculous amount of hunger hits me.

So much hunger, that I feel like I'm gonna throw up.

I push aside the feeling and decide that if I work harder, I wouldn't feel this bad.

I am really just lazy.

If I worked more often, I wouldn't be this dizzy and sick.

It wouldn't be as hard for me.

That's what I have to tell myself the rest of the time I continue my workout.

I finally stop when I'm about to pass out, dragging myself back to the couch to do so.

Everything then goes dark as I pass out or if my family asks, I'm taking my 3:30 nap.

ᗩ ᗯᕼIᒪE ᒪᗩTEᖇ...

I wake to a throbbing headache and I whimper quietly in pain, not wanting to disturb anyone.

I should really take a pill or something.

I don't deserve to not have this pain though.

I am a pain for my family and anyone else around me.

I take a shaky breath before looking at the time on my phone.

4:35.

I seem to be passing out for longer and longer amounts of time.

It was a short while a bit ago.

I keep taking shaky breaths.

My breathing gets worse and worse every day.

It scared me, but honestly, what doesn't?

"I hate myself." I whisper aloud.

"Louie? What the blazes are you doing being lazy again?! I've told you a million times! There is no such thing as lazy in my house! Get off your tail and go do some work this instant!" Uncle Scrooge yells at me.

I groan and try to drag myself up, not wanting to be disobedient.

"I don't know why you keep doing the same thing over and over! I tell you every day and you still sit on your lazy butt and do nothing. I feel disgusted that a being could actually manage to do that." Uncle Scrooge continues.

I stay silent in order to keep from crying.

"What are you doing?! Being disrespectful and not even replying to me?! I can't believe your uncle raised you after seeing Huey and Dewey. You wouldn't think he'd ever even met you after I have come to know your brothers and yourself." Uncle Scrooge scoffs.

I tear up and look down.

"I-I'm sorry. I-I d-didn't mean it." I stutter.

"That's yer excuse every time! Get up. NOW." Uncle Scrooge demands.

I stand up, almost fainting from earlier.

I groan loudly in a huge amount of pain.

"Stop bellyaching. Yer going ta help me with my work. Yer uncle said you are good with money and taxes?" Uncle Scrooge makes a face that seems to disagree with him completely.

Money.

That would be good right about now.

"Money?!" I exclaim weakly.

"Ugh. Of course that's all you care about. Maybe that's why yer brothers hate you." Uncle Scrooge sighs.

"T-t-they...hate me?" I whisper, rapidly throwing my energy into tearing up, feeling my heart breaking.

"Isn't that why they leave you?" Scrooge asks.

"I-I...I guess so. I'd hate me too if I was them..." I close my eyes tightly and try and hide the tears freely streaming down my face.

"Stop sobbing about having to get up! Outside! Do some yard work! Beakly deserves a break. You don't deserve anything!" Uncle Scrooge yells.

Suddenly, a pair of arms swoop me up and hold me close.

"Don't. Mess. With. My. Kids!" My dad tries to stay calm but ends up getting furious.

I lean into him and close my eyes.

I needed this.

"This child keeps sitting on his lazy butt all day and never doing anything productive. He is such a junkie too. Look at all these soda cans!" Uncle Scrooge yells.

I whimper weakly, still feeling horrible.

"You have no idea what my child does!" dad says, trying not to scream in my ears.

"Of course I do! He just sits, eats and drinks junk, and watches tv. I wouldn't be hard on him if I didn't see potential." Uncle Scrooge argues.

"No. Seeing potential is not the same thing as constantly nagging and torturing my poor Louie. Have you seen your workout room lately? It looks like Beakly never cleans in there. I know you never use it though and all the kids are always out except this one. And have you been watching his actual eating? He's been giving his food to Dewey after picking over it to make it look like he's eaten most of it. I know these things. I know Louie too well. You just happen to catch him every time he's just waken from passing out." dad fights back.

"Y-you know?" I whisper, opening one eye.

"Shh. Rest, Louie. I know everything." dad repositions me in his arms.

I wrap my arms around my dad's neck and hide my face in his shoulder.

I'm scared to face Uncle Scrooge again or even be around him.

I hate getting yelled at daily by him while my brothers get praised and loved.

"Why is it that you can love my other two kids, but never Louie? What did he ever do to you?!" Dad shouts.

"He came into my manor and acted anything but like a McDuck. It's a disgrace to me and everyone else in my family." Uncle Scrooge huffs.

That hurt...

"Old man, do I have to tell you again? This child would die to be like you. He admires you so much. You've made him scared to be around you now. He is frightened to even be here alone. He only wants to make you happy to the point of passing out every day because of working hard and not eating. You don't know everything I do about Louie. He's different than what you think." dad stands up for me again.

Suddenly, my head starts spinning again and I become extremely dizzy.

I decide to give in and sleep because I can't unglue my eyes from being shut.

"Lou Lou, wake up. We're worried." I wake up to Dewey whispering and running a hand through my hair as he knows I like.

"W-what happened?" I whimper, looking around.

"I don't know exactly. I just came home to all our stuff moved onto the houseboat and plans to move the houseboat back to the harbor." Dewey tells me.

"Why?" I simply whisper.

"I-I don't know. You'd have to ask well...him." Dewey points to the door.

Dad steps in along with Huey who's holding onto his hand and seeming to have been crying.

"What happened, daddy?" I ask cutely, earning an eye roll from Huey and Dewey.

"As you know, your Uncle Scrooge and I were fighting. He didn't see how amazing you are, Lou and so we are leaving until he understands that Hue, Dewey, and you are all special in your own ways. You're all just different and that's what makes you special." Dad explains.

"Yeah, Louie. We left because you are too important to us." Huey comes over and hugs me.

Dewey frowns and pulls me towards him for a hug.

They keep yanking me back and forth until I whine and reach for my dad.

He picks me up and I attach to him while Huey and Dewey keep fighting.

"Hey! What did I tell you about fighting over your brother?! It's stressful for everyone!" Dad yells.

"We're sorry." Huey stops immediately.

"I just didn't wanna be left out." Dewey whispers.

"Now you see how I feel." I mutter.

Everyone looks towards me.

"We aren't leaving you out! You don't wanna do things!" Huey points out.

"I would LOVE to do things. As y'all should know, I get scared with some things. That's all." I argue.

"What about that mountain?" Dewey suggests.

"There was no point in risking my life for no reason. I didn't want to be a drag anyways. I was too scared." I admit.

"That's the fun in it! Why don't you see that?!" Dewey exclaims.

"I'm not you, Dewford..." I start out before whispering to myself, "I wish I was though..."

"What was that?" Huey frowns.

"Nothing. It wouldn't matter to you guys anyways." I tell them.

"Why don't you just leave your brother alone for now. This will clearly break out into a fight." Dad states.

"See?! That's just it! I am the one that causes them to fight! If I'm not here, they get along perfectly. I'm the reason for all of this. Just...let me go." I sigh.

Dad frowns, nods, and puts me down.

I walk off slowly, shoving my hands in my hoodie pocket.

"Lou Lou, we don't want you to leave." Dewey suddenly grabs my arm.

I cry out in pain and he jumps back whimpering.

"I-I-I...I'm so sorry! I didn't m-m-mean..." Dewey starts to tear up now too and we end up both sobbing.

Guess who Huey goes to comfort though?

"What even happened, Louie?" Huey scolds me, upset that I started screaming and crying.

"I have scars, Huebert. That's a thing. Not everyone is perfect you know." I growl.

"Now boys, there's no need for this." Dad tries to calm us down.

"Can you maybe give us a minute?" I ask him.

Dad nods and does as I asked.

"I want to see these so called, 'scars', Louie." Huey demands.

"Fine. Just look then." I shout, throwing my hoodie off, revealing all my scars.

"Woah." Huey simply breaths.

Dewey cries harder seeing this.

"Why though, Lou? Why?" Huey whispers.

"Each one is for a time when I wasn't good enough to be included. Whenever I annoyed either of you in the slightest way. I pretend I got them from times I've hung out with you guys. You both have my heart. Completely with no doubt about it." I admit.

"It's us. We're the problem. It's not you. It never was." Huey realizes.

I look away and reach for my hoodie.

"No. I'm going to help you. I refuse to allow you to have these anymore." Huey moves over towards me and gently moves my hand away from my hoodie.

I nod and wipe at my eyes to try and clear them up slightly from the crying.

"Glasses. Wear them. I want you to see us clearly." Dewey rushes over and places my glasses that I refuse to wear normally on me.

He grins sadly and hugs me carefully.

"Thanks, guys. You don't have to pretend to like me though." I tell them.

"Oh good. I'll just take everything Hue and I bought for you're surpri..." Dewey covers his mouth, cutting himself off.

I frown only hearing the 'oh good' before tuning him out due to being upset.

"He was just kidding, Lou Lou. No need to get upset." Huey assures me, harshly nudging Dewey.

"Oh. That seems more reasonable than my own, beloved brother hating me." I force laughter upon me.

They laugh and throw their arms around me and everyone would think this would be a good ending.

It's all fake.

It's all an act since they don't wanna get caught by the adults.

I sigh and look out of the houseboat window to see Webby waving sadly as we sail away.

Sometimes, the best ending is no ending at all.

A/N

Hey! I am so sorry for not updating lately again. I've been crazy busy. There will be a delay in 'The Dare Lair...' and 'IS Having Powers A Good Thing' for a while. That Is one might not be happening for a long time. I'm sorry. Reviews are very much appreciated. Thanks for reading!