Disclaimer: I don't own Ducktales!
Title: Brace
Summary: When Lena befriended Webby, she really didn't think she'd end up being coddled by three overprotective adults, but it turns out it's kind of a package deal.
...
"Brace yerselves!"
Lena hits the deck- or, to be more precise, the bottom of the van- without preamble, one hand going to protect her neck. The other goes to protect Webby's, which is kind of stupid of that hand, really. Webby's way better at this type of thing than her.
The explosion sends the van careening to the side a bit, but Launchpad is good at working under pressure. Soon they're going as straight and steady as they usually do under his care. Lena sits up and buckles in, prompted by a glare from Huey. Adrenaline pumps through her veins, bubbling out of her chest in a slightly delirious laugh.
"That was fun," she says. "Solid eight out of ten."
The ride back to the mansion is pretty quiet. Rain pitter-patters on the windshield to fill the silence. Webby conks out halfway there, snoring and drooling on Lena's side. Lena watches the scenery fly by outside, feeling just a little carsick. There's rope burn on her wrists, and a gargantuan hole in her shirt, but, hey. Stuff happens.
She blinks for a second and they're there, Beakley waiting with her arms behind her back. Lena reluctantly shakes Webby awake and slips out the van, stretching noisily. She yawns and smacks her lips. "Well, I best be going."
The housekeeper raised an eyebrow. "You're filthy."
Lena points her thumb in the direction of the door. Thunder has begun to grumble in the distance. "Free shower. See ya'll next time there's crazy hijinks."
She makes it maybe two steps before she's hoisted in the air with a yelp. Beakley has her by the armpits. She's a bit too big to properly argue with, though Lena tries to give her a kick in the belly- mostly for comedic effect. The boys and Webby follow behind in a little row, chuckling at her complaints.
There's a million big bathrooms in the mansion, but for some reason Beakley decides it wise to plop all of them into one big bathtub and let them have at it with a suds war. And, sure, that's fine for the others- they're still little- but Lena is a teenager. She's supposed to be too old for this junk, isn't she? Beakley certainly doesn't seem to think so.
They stumble out into the main kitchen an hour or so later, frizzy and fluffed from towel-drying. The rain's picked up into a full-fledged storm now, lighting up the sky with fireworks of electricity. Lena didn't really like to think about walking through that, mostly because she'd just gotten warm, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
"I'd better cut out now," she says, shaking Webby's hand like they're exiting an interview. "Thanks for having me along, Webs. Same time next week?"
Webby's eyes lit up at the thought as she nodded. If there's one thing Lena's learned about her friend, it's that she's got an endless fascination with the fact that there's going to be more. That she's gonna get to fly from an explosion again. "Sure! I-I'll see about packing us better snacks this time."
"Those fruit snacks did run out fast," Louie adds, rubbing his belly. "Live and learn, amiright?"
Lena turns to walk out the room, only to find herself beak-to-end with a banana.
"Oh, no you don't!" Donald grunts, waving the fruit. "You're as thin as a stick! You need to eat!"
She went slightly cross-eyed looking at it. "Am I being threatened with food right now?"
"It's how he shows he cares," Dewey chips in helpfully.
"Sit!" he demands. "I'm going to make you all a proper meal, and you're gonna like it! Or else!"
"Or else what?" she asks.
"Um..." he glances at his feet, considering, before snapping, "I guess I'll make something else!"
Lena, not particularly interested in drudging through the cold rain, allows herself to be herded over to the big table to wait while Donald has at it. It's nothing fancy- pancakes and syrup, with a little bowl of fruit on the side- but it's filling and Lena is quick to ask for seconds. Idle chatter takes over the table as they shove forkfuls into their bills. Lena doesn't say much- food is more important than conversation, if you ask her- and then it's all said and done.
Lena pushes her plate away, licking some syrup from her lips. "Okay, I've put it off long enough. S'time for me to go."
Webby waves. "Bye, Lena!"
She waves back and stumbles off to the door, smiling just a little. Then something hooks into the collar of her shirt and pulls back with a slight choking noise. It's Scrooge and his annoying cane.
"Yew ain't going anywhere like that," he says, brow furrowing. "Ye got holes and bruises."
"Are you serious?" she asks, eyebrows flying high. He's no friend of her's. Never has been, never will be.
Scrooge shrugs. "When yew adventure with Scrooge McDuck, yew get taken care of afterwards. S'been a rule of mine from day one." Then, more quietly: "'Sides. Beakley'll have my hide if I don't."
"That I will, sir," Beakley hums, close behind, a smug grin on her face. "You aren't going anywhere tonight, young lady."
Lena lets out a long sigh, hiding how relieved she is by running her head across her face. "Can't a mysterious rebel disappear in peace?"
"No," Beakley says firmly, and that's the end of that. Soon she's bundled into a blanket burrito on the floor with the other kids, rubbing her sore wrists and wondering how on earth she was going to explain this to Aunt Magica. It didn't really matter. If it meant getting this kind of treatment more often, Lena would make it not matter.
She rolled over and fell asleep.
Author's Note: I wrote this after a long day. At one point I had to sit back and ask myself if a banana was a fruit or vegetable. Take that how you will.
-Mandaree1