Real Value

"Growing Interests"

DISCLAIMER: I obviously don't own anything. Sure, I'd love to kidnap Mister McD and stuff…But Disney seems to own most things I love, these days. Oh well. If you like, leave a comment. If you hate, double the amount. If you're already tired of my money puns, leave many more.

AN: This is a repost. Since he original account got hacke I have to post it again.

~0~0~0~

"Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice. But falling in love with you, I had no choice."

~UNKNOWN

~0~0~0~

Blathering Blatherskite, he looked so…peaceful. Like milking maiden angels getting ready to utter in their next load of happiness…Er, wait. That didn't really make much sense, did it? Well, the point was that Fenton Crackshell just couldn't believe that his boss was severely sick.

And to make matters worse, he was feeling completely guilty.

The taller mallard did his best to control his trembling hands, as he went to grab the richest duck in the world's cool non-moving palms. On any other day this would've gave him a good smack from Scrooge McDuck's cane. Or even a "What do ya think ye are doin', Lad? Ya got tae pay tae touch!" And man, how Fenton was missing the older male's crankiness. Being unconscious in the hospital…It just really didn't feel right at all.

And it had started out as a pretty normal week, too. The five multiplujillion, nine impossibidillion, seven fantasticatrillion and sixteen cents rich of a drake had sent for his favorite accountant. (Er, well, to be fair…his only accountant.) They had much work to do. And time was money, as they say. And if there was one thing Scrooge McDuck hated more…it was wasting a penny.

Or even spending it for that matter…

So, he had needed to send Mr. Crackshell off to Great Written, in order to sign some paperwork from an associating company. There weren't many the tight wad trusted to do such an important job, so the younger male felt very honored to take the position.

"Yes sir, Mr. McDuck, sir! I'll do it as if my very job depended on it!"

"It does."

Fenton gulped. "Er, well…Then that just makes pretending easier, now doesn't it?"

So off the eccentric young lad went, the very next morning. With pep in his step, and ready to please his boss. That was all he ever really wanted to do. Most of his insane plans derived from that very purpose.

But…Drat and curse his luck! Of course when Fenton was needed the most, he wasn't even in the country. When Gizmoduck was needed to stop yet another dastardly devious plot by the nefarious no-do-gooders of Duckberg, aka the Beagle Boys, he wasn't able to. When his beloved employer had required his superhero to save not only his money-bin, but himself…Oh snicker doodles, this down talking really wasn't helping his remorse. In fact, it was making it worse.

Here's what happened when you broke it down: even for his age, Mister McD's hot fiery spirit was able to scare away the convicts. Of course, not without receiving some blows himself. And that included the good bump on the head he had then been sporting for the past few days. When Crackshell arrived after the incident…Let's just say he most likely broke "the Mallard's Book of World's Records" for the fastest sprint. He ran to every hospital until finally finding the right one.

And he hadn't left his side since.

~0~0~0~

"Mister Crackshell, sir," Duckworth finally spoke after the young duck started to look a little shabby. "Don't you think it might be in your best interest to get some rest? Or, at the very least, clean yourself up. You haven't left his side since the moment you arrived."

"Well, gee, that's not true. I've left every 6.4 hours for a bathroom break." Fenton smiled widely, yet it quickly fell when he noticed the old canine butler wasn't amused. He sighed and looked away; even the usual chipper gentleman wasn't feeling in the mood to joke around. "I know, Duckworth. It's just...I can't help but feel this is all my fault."

The servant scoffed. "Yes, and what were you suppose to do against a good number of Ma Beagle's children? If even Master McDuck was having difficulties, I doubt even you could do much."

For a moment, Crackshell felt himself growing hot under the collar. Of course he could've done something. He could've done more than something. The superhero had dealt with the Beagle ilk more than he cared to count. (Fenton could if he wanted to; he just had no desire of any kind.) Why, he sent those trouble makers to prison so many times,…the mallard could've sworn he even had a nickname like "The Mutt Catcher". He was Gizmoduck, for Pete's sake! And he was about to mention it to the older man, too…When he recalled a very important detail.

Only a certain few even knew about his secret identity. (And that was basically just McDuck and M'ma Crackshell.) Heck, even he girlfriend Gandra didn't know. That was the lonely life of a hero. Anyone could be put into danger.

But…Never in a million years would he had imagined Scrooge being the one hurt.

Fenton found himself grunting as a response to Duckworth. "Er, yes…But still. At the very least, I could've been there to give Mr. McDuck some time to strategize. I've taken more than a good bump to the head in my day. And then some."

"Exactly what the master would've complained of. He, himself, has been feeling much guilt on his part. And a good deal has been towards your direction. As much as I personally hate to say it…He would've preferred it this way"

The younger male merely nodded, as his gaze lingered back onto his boss. "Yeah…You're probably right."

"Indeed. That tends to be the case a good deal of the time." The canine gave a small soft smile to the other gent. He then became serious again. "Mrs. Beakley mentioned about bringing the children sometime today for a visit. Will you please consider taking a small nap, at the very least? What would he say?"

"Oh, something along the lines of 'Are ye daft, man?'" Crackshell unexpectedly found himself fighting back a yawn. "Great, body. That be mutiny, ya know….alright. I'll have a little nap. But only a small one!"

"Very well, sir. I'll go inquire from the nurses where they store their blankets."

By the time he returned, he found the young mallard resting his head across the world's richest duck's lap.

~0~0~0~

And still days went by, and Scrooge McDuck seemed as if he'd stay in his eternal state of slumber forever. And as a faithful and loyal companion, the younger lad just wouldn't leave. Some insisted it was from his nice nature. Some said it was from his stubborn will. And, even others argued he was just crazy. (And, to be truthful, all of these individuals were most likely equally right.) But, at the end of the day, that didn't change the outcome. Crackshell was there to stay until his employer didn't require him any longer. And the only moment he considered himself no longer needed, was when the wealthiest tight wad was swimming in the eternal lasting money bin in the sky. There was no ands, ifs, or buts around it- either!

~0~0~0~

"Fenton….Fenton…"

"Not now, M'ma. Just another five more minutes…"

"Oh, for Goldurn's sake. FENTON!"

The tall drake found himself startled awake by a very loud and huffy accent. It was a tone his ears new anywhere. Heck, even the fact that it was the middle of the night…there was no way it was his mind playing tricks on him.

Crackshell rubbed his eyes, as he began to push himself out of his employer's lap. (It had become his makeshift pillow since the moment he decided to turn it into his temporary bed.) The younger adult found himself yawning.

"Sc-Scroogey?"

"Aye…Wait. Nay! How many times must ah tell ye about callin' me-"

Before the older drake could even finish scolding his accountant, all of the oxygen was squeezed out of his lungs in a tight embrace. "Oh Mr. McDuck! You're alright!"

"Are ye daft, man? Of course ah am all right. Would ah be talkin' tae ye if ah weren't?"

Fenton smiled to himself as he thought the possible answers over. While he could've easily turned to the supernatural…He doubted that was what his boss wanted to hear.

"Well, gee, Mr. McDuck. I suppose not. So are you really okay?"

Scrooge nodded.

"Aye, lad."

"Really, really, okay?"

The wealthy mallard could feel a migraine beginning to come on.

"Aye, Fenton."

"Really, really, really, really, real-"

"Aye, Fenton, Aye! Sheesh. How many times do ah have tae say "yes" till ye get it in ye thick kull of ye's?"

Scrooge McDuck found himself, yet again, stuck in the death grip.

"Oh, how I've missed your hollering at me! And…And here I thought I'd never hear it again!"

The champagne feathered drake sighed. Yet, a small smile crept onto his bill as he pat his trusted employee. He was truly touched by his concern.

"There there, it'll take more than those blasted Beagle Boys tae take out this ol' bird. Ah've been dealin' with many generations of 'em. Ah think ah picked up a trick or two by now."

"But…It was my job to…"

"Pfft. Ye tryin' tae say ah'm too ol' tae handle meself? Blah. If ah can handle the triplets, ah think ah can handle anything!"

For the first time that felt like a long time, Fenton Crackshell's true beam returned. With the awakening of his employer, even a part of himself felt as if it was returning.

"It's good to have you back, sir!"

~0~0~0~

"You just need that right person to hold your hand as he walks barefooted with you on these burning ashes
He will walk with you til' the end and pick you up to carry you if your too tired that your body collapses."

~ Richard L.

~0~0~0~

AN:

Drabble one of many. The first of many McCrack stories. (Aka: Scrooge/Fenton.) Don't worry, it won't jump straight into the full blown gay. As you can see, I'm handling the situation with some care. Because even if Mister McD was homosexual in the show and comics, hypothetically speaking…he was defiantly conservative. He would have problems with himself being gay. Where Fenton, on the other hand, wouldn't. Crackshell has always been opened minded like that. Thus, as you'll see, he'll be the main driving force. Fenton, the cause, and Scrooge, the effect. It should be interesting, if I play my cards right.

I'd also like to give thanks to Ekips for giving me their opinions on this. I work better when I have someone to at least listen to my ideas, and to tell me if I'm being faithful to the material. She did that, and then some. That, and it helps that her art is inspiring in general. And she makes me want to improve myself everyday so I can become a little more up to her level. Again, thank you.

And also thanks to Juno for giving a looksy. I wasn't sure if I was going the right path with this. I always doubt my own skills. So I feel all nice and squishy from your warm words. And thanks for "fagging out" with me. It's been fun. And people, this is yet another great artist. Seriously, what's up with such nice people making me look up to them all of the time. Tis not fair! I just want to secret borrow their talent…Er, yes. I kind of got off the subject matter. Point is, thank you! I looooves yous toos!