Chapter 1: Mania
She knew she ought to talk to someone. The triplets kept knocking on her door and offering her various enticements. Once, Scrooge even came to the door to offer consolation, but Webby didn't want it. In truth, she didn't know what she wanted. Maybe she wanted to fall asleep for a while, and when she woke up, this would all be a horrible dream. She didn't think she'd get her wish.
Scrooge and the others had captured Magica and destroyed her power base, at a terrible cost. Webby had lost her only family, her only biological family at any rate, and Lena had vanished. Lena didn't want to associate with Webby if all she was going to cause her was pain. In a way, Webby understood, but in another way, Webby resented her a little for being able to leave when Webby was trapped in her new hell.
It wasn't Lena's fault, no matter how much the teenager had tried to place the blame on her shoulders. Webby wished Lena understood that, but she couldn't have made her see sense. And now...Webby didn't feel like leaving the mansion to pursue her. She didn't want to do anything, really, except lie on her bed and stare at the ceiling.
Her grandmother, so long a bulwark in her life, was gone. Magica hadn't even been aiming at her, but at Scrooge, when her grandmother had perished. Her grandmother had gotten caught in the crosshairs.
Webby moaned, rolling over onto her stomach. She'd been in here for hours and hadn't eaten or slept, just stared blankly at nothing. She'd locked the door to prevent any unwelcome intruders, which was why she was startled and alarmed when the door handle started moving on its own.
"You won't let us in, so we're resorting to extreme measures," Huey announced. "We will break the lock if you don't open the door."
Webby stared, uncertain whether she wanted them to break in or not.
"And he has his Junior Woodchuck guidebook to help him," Louie added. "He means business."
She groaned, flopping onto the floor. She hadn't the energy to walk to the door and open it. If they wanted access, they might as well come in. It wasn't like she was stopping them.
"We don't have to break the door down," Huey added. "If you just let us in."
"We're worried about you," Dewey chimed in.
"Leave me alone," she murmured.
"You can't be left alone right now," Huey argued. "That's the worst possible thing for you to be."
"No, the worst possible thing to be is dead," she said, and the words fell hard between the four of them. There was an uncomfortable silence.
"Well, yeah, but..." Louie faltered.
"Like Granny," she replied, her voice muffled because she'd rolled into the carpet.
"Please let us help you," Huey insisted.
"Yeah," Dewey added. "We know it's like to miss someone."
She could lash out. If she did, maybe they'd go away. But she loved them too much to hurt them, especially considering how much she was hurting. Instead, she said nothing, hoping the silence spoke for itself.
"Come in, then," she sighed. There was a click, and the door swung open. Webby looked up to spy Huey with the keys-he hadn't been about to break in any way. It'd been a ruse. She was vaguely impressed, in the distant part of her mind that hadn't gone completely numb.
"Are we sitting on the floor?" Louie asked and plopped beside her. "Hey."
"Hi," she muttered.
"You're gonna get sick if you breathe in the carpet's fumes," Huey argued and scooped her up. She leaned against him; she was unresisting, but she hated how her heart had lurched when he'd touched her.
"So?" she muttered. "Wouldn't be the worst thing that's happened this week."
Dewey plopped down on Webby's other side, and between the three of them, they propped her up.
"I understand that you want to run and hide," Huey said. "We've been there."
"And we know how much this situation sucks," Louie added.
"So we're here for you," Dewey finished.
It was exhausting to speak to them. Silence fell again, and she could sense the triplets' discomfort.
"So, is this a thing? Are we just going to sit here and stare at the walls?" Louie asked, and she snorted weakly.
"Give her time," Huey coaxed. "She'll talk to us when she's ready."
"I don't know if I'll ever be ready," she sighed.
"Then we'll just sit here," Huey replied.
"Doing nothing," Dewey added.
"Staring at the walls. Man, I could use a Coke," Louie said, and his brothers glared at him. "What? I'm thirsty. There's a lot of dust in this house now."
Huey smacked Louie in the shoulder. "Way to be insensitive."
"It's okay," she said in a hollow voice. "It's fine. I'm okay."
"You haven't eaten or drunk anything all day," Dewey pointed out. "And you've been locked in your room on and off since the duel with Magica."
"Yeah, I guess I have. Heh," she said and laughed humorlessly.
"We're worried about you," Huey pressed. "C'mon, come with us. We'll get you something to eat if Louie hasn't raided the fridge by now."
"You make one sandwich, and suddenly, you're the bad guy," Louie said and shrugged.
Although she didn't say she wanted food, she let them lead her toward the kitchen. Scrooge was nowhere to be seen, which was just as well. She didn't want any further complications. If the triplets wanted her to eat, she'd eat. If they wanted her to drink, she could do that too. It didn't mean she'd derive any pleasure out of it.
"Now, I can cook up a mean omelet," Huey said. "Part of earning a badge for my Junior Woodchucks."
"Whatever," Webby said and regretted it, seeing Huey's crestfallen face. "Sorry. I mean, sure, go ahead."
Huey cast her one last glance before firing up the stove and prepping the pan. Webby sighed, head thudding onto the table. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be anywhere.
"Hey, wanna hear a joke I've been working on for my late night show?" Dewey asked.
Not really...
She couldn't muster a smile or any encouragement, yet Dewey launched into his routine anyway. The words rushed past her without her making sense of them. At the appropriate times, she nodded.
"She's not paying attention to you," Louie interjected.
"Sure she is," Dewey said. "Aren't you, Webby?"
"Uh huh," she said in a dull voice. She was staring without seeing at Huey making the omelet. It didn't smell appetizing, and it'd probably taste like dust in her mouth.
Everything she'd eaten lately had the same terrible consistency. She didn't want to eat. It felt like she was just trudging through life. Granny had been the closest thing she'd had to a mother as far as Webby could remember. Webby almost wished she'd died with her.
"Hey, I got answers for some of your questions to Scrooge's parents," Louie said. "Hmm? You loveMcDuck lure."
"That's nice," she said, and Huey dropped the spatula. The triplets exchanged shocked looks like she'd just said she wanted to play in traffic. She knew this wasn't normal behavior for her, even while she also knew that Louie probably didn't have any answers and was just trying to pique her interest.
"Who are you and what have you done with our friend Webby?" Dewey cried, shaking her.
"I'm fine," she snapped. "Leave me alone."
She pushed Dewey off and stood up from the table. "I'm not very hungry. Thanks for the offer, Huey."
"You have to eat," he said, aghast. "You can't starve yourself."
"I'm not hungry," she repeated. "Don't worry about me."
"Even if you're not hungry, you still have to eat," Huey argued. "A little bit won't hurt."
"I'm not hungry, damn it!" she snapped and again, the triplets looked stunned. Taking advantage of their stupor, she left the kitchen and headed back to her room. She was going to take that key and bury it somewhere in her room so that the triplets couldn't break in again. And then, well...she had no idea. Scrooge probably had a master key too. There was no escape, not unless she left the mansion.
Maybe she ought to do that, then. Leave the mansion and the triplets' misplaced concern behind. She could handle herself. And maybe she'd be lucky and something horrible would happen. The formless idea of it was appealing in a morbid way.
"She didn't have to curse at us," Louie said in a small voice.
She slowed, still listening to the boys' talk.
"One of us has to keep an eye on her," Huey said. "Junior Woodchuck Guidebook states that people who are grieving tend to do stupid things."
Webby huffed and walked away. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she swiped at them. She didn't know why she was crying, but she was sick of it. She was sick of feeling weak and helpless and miserable. Whenever her emotions thawed out, whenever the numbness abated, misery took its place.
Why couldn't Magica have missed? Why had her grandmother left her all alone?
Lena de Spell no longer had to worry about a shadow following her. Magica's power base had returned her to a shadow of a shadow, incapable of harming anyone while she worked to regain her energy. Lena had her freedom, but the cost was unthinkable. Right now, she stood outside McDuck Manor and wrapped her fingers around the iron gates. Webby. Webby's distraught sobs after her grandmother had died and Lena's aunt's cackling laughter at seeing her abject misery.
Lena hadn't had control of her body then, but it'd still been her body Magica had used to strike Mrs. Beakley down. Lena felt responsible, regardless of what Webby had told her. And now she felt responsible for Webby's depression and wasn't sure how to step in if Webby even wanted her to.
She had to do something. She couldn't just stand there and grip the iron bars while staring at the manor.
"All right," Lena said, steeling herself and slipping through the gates. "I'm coming for you. Ready or not, here I come. I just hope I'm not making a big mistake...again."
She walked onto the driveway and then rang the doorbell. Huey answered and looked at her suspiciously. Lena plastered on her most winsome smile and wished anyone else, even the ghost Duckworth, had answered the bell. The triplets would be protective over Webby. They weren't liable to let Lena in.
"What are you doing here?" Huey asked, narrowing his gaze at her. "And you'd better be alone."
"I'm alone. See?" She held up her hands and puffed out her shirt to show she had no magical amulet on her person. Stepping back, she invited Huey to look at the driveway if he didn't believe her. He frowned and shut the door, not all the way, but enough so that she knew he was conferring with one of his brothers.
Lena politely pretended she couldn't hear every word they were saying.
"She's the reason Webby's like this," Dewey hissed.
"She might be able to help," Huey argued. "And maybe Webby will see her if she won't talk to us."
"Or she could curse her out," Dewey replied.
"'Damn' isn't that strong a curse," Louie observed. "I mean, it's nothing compared to sh-"
"Louie!" Huey reprimanded.
"I'm just saying," Louie said.
"Should we let her in or not?" Huey asked, sounding aggrieved. Movement caught Lena's eye and she saw a small figure descending on bedsheets climbing out the window of a second story room. Lena rolled her eyes. Typical. They were too preoccupied with their own inane problems to notice the object of their scrutiny was heading for the hills.
"You guys sort that out amongst yourselves," Lena said. "I'm gonna go stop Webby from living on the hard streets."
She had no doubt that was what Webby intended to do. Of course, Webby had the street smarts of a hamster in a world full of cats.
The triplets yelped and scurried outside. Lena had a head start on them, given her longer legs and also, her observation skills not being completely rubbish. She saw Webby skid to a halt on the roof and then continue her descent. She was oblivious to the crowd gathering, or, rather, she was until the triplets started calling her name. Lena facepalmed. Why...
"You can't run away!" Louie objected. "You don't even know where you're going!"
Webby cursed a rather long epithet that made Lena proud. She hadn't even known Webby knew half those words. The boys, by contrast, were shocked and dismayed by Webby's language.
"Just because you can talk like a sailor doesn't mean you can walk the streets like one," Lena called and Webby spun about on the bedsheet that was dangling above the ground.
"Lena?" Webby said weakly.
"I had nothing better to do, so I thought I'd drop by," Lena lied. Webby's face, which had appeared earnest, shuttered and Lena hissed. Wrong thing to say.
"All right, fine," she said as Webby slipped down to the ground. "I'm here because I was worried about you."
"We're all worried about you," Huey added. "You can't go on living like this."
"I don't want to," Webby spat.
"Come here," Lena said, ignoring Huey again.
The younger girl hesitated, weighing her options. There was a large part of Webby that wanted to lash out, hurt everyone so they couldn't come near her, but that was balanced with the part that genuinely cared about everyone and didn't want to inflict more pain. For a second, it looked like the latter part might win.
Then Webby bolted for the gates and the others gave chase.
Lena hissed a curse of her own and gritted her teeth. Webby could run awfully fast when she was trying to avoid them. Lena might've been able to outpace the triplets, but Webby was another story. The younger girl slipped through the gates.
"Seriously, where does she think she's going?" Louie asked. "I mean, it's not like she thought this through. Which, come to think of it, isn't like Webby at all."
"She's not thinking," Lena said, halting and trying to come up with a game plan. "She's blindly reacting. She's trying to run away from her problems, literally, and trust me, you can't."
"We're just going to let her go?" Huey asked, incredulous.
"If Webby were going to go somewhere to seek solace, where would she go?" Lena asked. She folded her arms across her chest.
"I...I thought she'd have stayed at home or done something with Scrooge," Dewey said, uncertain. "Now I don't know what she wants anymore."
"Scrooge!" Lena said and the three gave her dirty looks. "No, guys, listen. If we can get Scrooge and Launchpad, we'll be able to outrun her."
"Yeah..." Huey said, allowing that. "But what if she goes underground?"
Lena winced. The crowd that ran underground was too rough for Webby. Webby might be able to handle herself in a fight, but not against knives and guns. She could end up seriously injured. Lena's heart lurched and she fought dismay. Oh god, the last thing she wanted was for Webby to be hurt...
"Then we'll search the underground too!" Dewey said, oblivious to Lena's reaction.
"We'd better bring some protection," Lena said, not looking at the triplets but seeing the gangs she'd avoided below the city. "This could get ugly."
While Webby had extensive knowledge of McDuck Manor and Scrooge McDuck, she didn't have an encyclopedic knowledge of Duckberg. Within minutes, she found herself lost and her pace slowed to a walk. The triplets were right. She didn't know where she was going. And she could've spoken to Lena...her heart pounded painfully in her chest.
The truth was she wasn't thinking anything through. She knew better, too, but her emotions were everywhere. She found herself near the old theatre where she'd first met Lena and her steps slowed further. If she hadn't met Lena...but, no, that was inevitable. And there was no point in thinking like that.
No one awaited her at the abandoned theatre and she plopped onto the wooden stage. Sighing, she flopped onto her back. The waves lapped at the shore and seagulls cried. The emptiness Webby had sought to outpace had caught up to her and her chest hurt like someone had staved it in.
Alone without the possibility of interruption for the first time since her grandmother's death, she gave vent to the sobs that she'd held in for so long. Weeping silently was one thing, but the wails that had burned within her burst out in an excruciating manner. She curled into a ball and cried, thinking horrible things and hating herself for feeling them. Cursing herself for knowing that if she had gotten what she wanted, she would've hurt the ones she still loved and cared about and knowing she was selfish and unable to stop it.
She wasn't sure how long she cried for, only that she stopped when her head ached and she had no more tears left. Unwilling to move, she stared up at the stage lights and resolved not to think.
Unfortunately, as per her usual, her thoughts raced. She couldn't shut her brain off, try as she might, and the ideas that swirled around made her thoroughly miserable. She knew she was a prime target right now, vulnerable and alone, and while she didn't move from the spot, she listened more intently to her surroundings. Just because she thought she was isolated didn't mean someone couldn't drop in and she'd be a pawn to use against Scrooge.
She stared around her and sighed.
"Look, if you're here to kidnap me, go right ahead. I won't even fight you. See? I'm not moving."
No one responded, and she snorted weakly. Yeah, that had scared off her would-be assailants. Sure.
"Cute," a male voice sneered, and Webby jumped to her feet. She assumed a defensive position and shuddered, scanning her surroundings to ascertain where the voice was coming from. She pivoted, turning toward the dry chuckle and then stopped in her tracks when she heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.
Four thugs slipped out of the shadows and approached her. Two out of the four were carrying guns and the rest carrying knives. Webby winced, mind running through scenarios that didn't involve her getting hurt. She came up with nothing. If only she weren't outnumbered and outgunned. She was starting to think her rash behavior hadn't been entirely wise...
The four thugs were dogs, like the Beagle Boys, but that was where the similarities ended. They were bulldogs with scars along their cheeks and their shoulders. They wore black wife beaters and matching black pants. Webby faltered, taking a step back, and the two holding guns followed her movement. She gulped.
"I...I see there's been a grave misunderstanding," Webby ventured, voice trembling. "I'm sorry to have intruded. I'll be on my way."
"No," the same male voice said, and Webby took him to be the leader. He was the tallest, most roughed up of the quartet. Webby's heart thudded as she looked at the handgun pointed at her head. She didn't have to turn to know there was another one aimed at her back.
"It's been a while since we've had a girl to play with," he continued, his unctuous tones striking nerves along her body. Could she make it to the curtain, rip it off, and shield herself before they shot her?
No, probably not. And they didn't look like they were bluffing, either.
Her phone rang, and her fingers inched toward it.
"Don't," the leader snapped. "Don't you dare answer that."
"Look, like I said, this is just a grave misunderstanding and-"
"Shut up," he snapped and aimed a shot that missed her head by inches. Webby shuddered.
Webby clamped her jaw shut on nervous laughter.
"Come here," he ordered and, meekly, she shuffled closer to him. If she could disable him and get the gun away from the other guy, she might stand a chance. Or...she could trick them into aiming at each other...
"Don't get any ideas," the leader snapped, pressing the barrel of the gun against her temple. "Now, I may be a little rusty, but I can remember the steps clear enough."
"She isn't answering her phone," Huey said. Lena's stomach somersaulted.
"She probably has a tracker on me. Why didn't I ever think of putting one on her?" Scrooge said and scowled at Launchpad. "Concentrate on your driving, not our conversation."
"But it's not like there's anyone that dangerous around now that Magica's out of the picture, right?" Louie said.
"There are," Lena said, clenching her eyes shut tight as if she could push away from the dreadful feeling in her stomach. "You don't know. You're a kid and you don't go into the bad parts of town. But there are gangs here, not the Beagle Boys, but a lot worse. And they won't hesitate to attack an unarmed girl."
"Do you know where they hang out, lassie?" Scrooge asked.
"There's one place we can try first," Lena said. "Maybe we'll be lucky and she decided to go to a movie."
"How bad are we talking about, anyway?" Dewey asked in a would-be casual voice.
"Let's just say that she's in way over her head," Lena said and swallowed past a lump in her throat.
"They'd really hurt her, wouldn't they?" Scrooge said and his words felt like a dire pronouncement.
"Without any hesitation," Lena whispered. This was all her fault. She balled her fists and wished she didn't feel so impotent. The thought that Webby could be lying somewhere, battered and bruised, made her stomach clench.
"She can defend herself, can't she?" Huey said. "We've seen her do it."
"No one can defend themselves against guns and knives barehanded," Lena whispered.
"Can't this thing go any faster?" Scrooge snapped at Launchpad.
"I'm trying, Mister McD, but you haven't given me a place to drive to," Launchpad pointed out.
"The old abandoned theatre," Lena said. "We'll start there."
"Aye, we'll get there in time, don't you worry," Scrooge said.
"This isn't a cartoon," Lena said and the tension and worry over Webby choked her. "There aren't always happy endings."
"We should call Gizmoduck," Huey said and she opened her eyes.
"Gizmo who?" she asked.
"Gizmoduck. If Webby's up against people who are armed, then we need him," Huey said.
"That's a good idea, lad," Scrooge approved. "And if she can hold them off for a little while..."
Lena was torn between wanting to scold Webby when they met again and wanting to hug her so tightly she'd never leave her.
Scrooge caught her eye in the rearview mirror. "Don't go blaming yourself, lassie. You didn't know this was going to happen."
How could she have expected Webby to want to come to her when their original friendship had been based off lies? How could Webby care for her at all? Obviously, she hadn't cared enough to halt her run out of McDuck Manor.
Lena stared at her reflection in the window. Hang on, we're coming for you.
Fighting off the triplets and weak assailants were one thing. Fighting off four armed assailants, two of whom had guns trained on her, was another matter. She struggled, regardless, and one of the thugs pinned her to the ground with their knife. It quivered less than an inch from her hip and she trembled.
"Y-you know," she stammered. "I could help you guys. I know-"
The gun returned to her temple and pressed against it painfully.
"We don't care what you know," the leader said coldly. "Stop resisting."
Webby's heart pounded and she watched the second thug descend with his knife. She reached for the one pinning her skirt to the floor and the leader whacked her with the gun's handle, leaving her stunned.
"Just hold still," the leader intoned. He grinned cruelly. "This'll be over before you know it."
Lena ran out of the car as soon as it stopped (miraculously not crashing) and pelted toward Webby, who was lying in what Lena hoped wasn't her own blood but strongly suspected was. Webby groaned and Lena fell to her knees beside the younger girl. The triplets, Scrooge, and Launchpad were right behind her.
"There are worse things than death," Webby said weakly, a frail and humorless smile crossing her lips.
"Don't worry, I got a few shots in too," she continued, though her condition suggested otherwise. Her clothes were in tatters and Lena scooped her up to hug her to her. Her hands trembled as she stroked Webby's hair. The telltale ribbon was nowhere to be seen.
"What happened here?" Scrooge cried.
The triplets halted a few feet from Webby and exchanged stricken looks. No one knew quite what to say. Lena felt it was obvious what had happened, but no one wanted to utter it as if to say it would be to make it more concrete.
"I'm ready to go home now," Webby murmured and her head rested against Lena's shoulder. She tugged weakly on Lena's shirt. "You're coming, aren't you?"
Lena was torn between dismay over Webby and rage that someone had hurt her like this. She saw the expression mirrored on Scrooge's face too.
"Go home with them, lassie," Scrooge said and she could see him visibly restraining his fury. His hands were tight on the cane.
"I'll handle this," Scrooge said in a cold voice, one that, for once, prompted no arguments from the triplets.
He had waited until the children were safely ensconced in the manor before turning to Launchpad. He was irate, longing to punish those criminals to within an inch of their lives. It would be up to Webby whether she'd tell the triplets, but he'd seen the knowledge of what Webby had endured mirrored in Lena's face. It made him wonder, though perhaps for another time, whether they ought to encourage Lena to stay in the manor where it was safe.
But Lena was a problem for another day. He wasn't sure whether these criminals had assaulted Webby to prove a point to him or because they were vicious malcontents. This might not be related to him at all, but that didn't mean they were free from his vengeance. Webby was family and no one touched Scrooge's family.
He'd have to work slowly and grease a few palms. The ne'er do wells would probably be eager to spill their story, a thought that likewise filled Scrooge with a simmering rage.
"Mr. McD?" Launchpad said, wary. "Are you okay?"
"Of course I'm not bloody okay!" Scrooge snarled. "Someone attacked my grand-niece and then got away with it! When I find out who's responsible, there's nowhere on Earth they'll be able to run to get away from me."
Scrooge stared at Webby's window. For the first time in his life, he almost considered cold-blooded murder. Webby was a child, damn it. And children were supposed to be off-limits. Especially someone he cared for.
Like it or not, he'd have to wait for the information to trickle in. And Launchpad was too conspicuous to work as a secret agent. He also didn't want to part Lena and Webby so soon after their reunion, but Lena might be able to identify the criminals.
He sighed, hands gripping the cane tightly enough for the wood to crackle ominously. "Let's see if we can wring some information out of someone."
Without waiting to see if Launchpad was following, he stormed up to the manor. He was too enraged to think straight. They would pay. Oh, yes, they would.