It was a warm clear night, and the houseboat was for once (likely not for long) in working order. Mostly.

It had been a while since things had been this peaceful. For once he wasn't concerned about the kids, who were inside watching a movie, or even Uncle Scrooge who was doing some paperwork in his office (he could see the light on in there).

But it was a bit lonely. Donald let out a hollow chuckle.

15 years ago he would have never thought this was how he'd be spending his Saturday nights.

"Whatcha up to Uncle Donald," Donald was slightly startled by Huey climbing up into the houseboat, followed closely by Dewey and Louie.

"Just watching the stars? What about you? Your movie?"

"Movie's over," Dewey said.

"It was okay," Louie said.

"And Webby?"
"She's got a bit of a headache, so Beakley's got her laying down,"

Donald glanced at his phone, "You guys should be getting to bed soon too,"

"Aww," Dewey whined, as Louie sat down next to Donald and tucked himself under his arm. Huey moved to sit on his other side, and snuggled close.

"Do you like looking at the stars?" Huey asked. There was something curious, yet knowing in his eyes, and in his question.

Donald didn't really answer, just grunting in acknowledgment.

"The stars feel kinda lonely, it makes me feel kinda small," Louie replied after a moment.

"Well, I think the stars are amazing," Huey said, "They're… just there. And they are above everyone, and there are so many things out there, so many things to know… it feels like a connection,"

"They feel more like a broken promise to me,"

"A broken promise? What does that mean?" Huey asked. Louie half shrugged.

"What do you think Dewey?"

Dewey for once hesitated to say something but after a long moment finally blurted out, "They make me think of Mom,"

Donald shifted a bit awkwardly, and the boys all looked at him in a sort of curious concern. Donald finally sighed, and gave an awkward laugh, "It's almost as if you remember," Donald gestured to Dewey, who hesitantly moved into Donald's lap.

"Remember what?" Huey asked.

Donald took a deep breath, "You know… back before you hatched…. Della…. You're mom, she used to sing to you,"

"She did?" Louie asked, in a hushed disbelieving voice.

"Yeah, all the time, all sorts of things really, but there was one song…. A lullaby she sang to you every night," Donald paused and glanced at his nephews, all listening intently and gave a small smile, "That was her favorite,"

"How did it go?"

"I - I don't know…."

"Can you try Uncle Donald, please?"

"I just… my voice can't quite sing that…."

"Please?"

"Alright," Donald sighed, not able to find a proper reason to refuse the request, and cleared his throat, His voice was rough, and he was well aware his rough voice wasn't quite suited to the sweet lullaby, but he sang anyway,

Look to the stars my darling baby boys,

Life is strange and vast

Filled with wonders and joys…

Face each new sun with eyes clear and true

Unafraid of the unknown

'Cause I'll face it all with you.

The boys didn't respond for a few minutes, just stayed pressed up against their Uncle. Donald wasn't really sure if they understood any of it, but they seemed to be content with his attempt nevertheless. Huey was the first to break the silence with a simple word.

"Thanks,"

Donald didn't reply, and continued to stare up at the stars.

"She loved the stars, didn't she?" Huey asked, although it was more rhetorical than anything else.

"Adored them," Donald replied simply.

"She loved us?" Louie whispered, his voice lifting slightly in a question.

"Of course, more than anything," Donald replied, ruffling his head feathers, "She was kinda a dork like that,"

"Really?" Huey asked.

"Really,"

"Uncle Donald?" Louie half whispered, "Why don't you ever talk about mom?"

Donald didn't reply immediately, he glanced over to his other side where he saw Huey watching him carefully, he turned his head up towards the sky, "That's… that's complicated."

"Complicated how?" Huey said, a little bit accusatory.

"You miss her, don't you?" Dewey asked.

"Of course I do," Donald said, "...I guess, I hoped, you wouldn't have to?"

"What do you mean?" Huey asked.

"You know, when I, when we, you're mom and I, were kids our parents….pPassed away…. And that was one of the hardest…. the 2nd hardest thing, i'd even say, that I ever had to face. I figured you wouldn't miss someone you never knew, The less you knew the better,"

"Oh," they echoed,

"There were more selfish reasons too," Donald confessed, "To tell you about her would mean eventually you would ask what happened to her, and…. I couldn't do that without explaining Scrooge. Explaining who he was, and why we didn't see him, and… more importantly, I couldn't tell you about the spear that without explaining why she left and…. That's complicated too."

Another pause where the boys shifted a bit uncomfortably, "Why?"
"If Della had one flaw, it was she never thought anything through. And all it took was once, she didn't think it through and she was gone, even though I told her a million times it was a bad idea."

"Are you mad at ther?"

Donald didn't respond.

"Uncle Donald,"

Donald sighed, "...A little, But it was a long time ago now. And she couldn't have known, she didn't mean too,"

The boys didn't say anything, but remained pressed up close to Donald.

Donald sighed, yet again, "I just don't want you to make the same mistakes we've made."

"Taking a rocket into space does sound like something Dewey would do," Huey noted.

"Guilty," Dewey admitted.

Donald laughed weakly, "you boys will be the death of me,"

"So mom was as stupidly reckless as Dewey?"

Donald gave a playful groan, "Yes,"

Uncle Scrooge said that mom was good at picking things apart*," Louie asked.

"Yeah," Donald said, "She could pick apart patterns like nobody's business, but was rather keen on ignoring common sense. She could spout all sorts of random trivia, but would still leave cookies in the oven for hours until they were hard enough to break teeth,"

"That last part sounds a little like you," Louie pointed out. Donald rolled his eyes, "Yeah, runs in the family I suppose, nothing quite as bad as setting the houseboat on fire,"

"Heh, yeah, sorry about that," Dewey nervously apologized.

"You three really are just like her," Donald said thoughtfully, "If she was split into three little boys,"

"Really?"

"Haven't you been told that enough," Donald asked.

"Well, from Uncle Scrooge," Louie replied.

"Selene said I looked like her," Dewey added.

"It's different from you," Huey explained, "People say that kind of stuff all the time,"

"Well, I guess family tends to act like family," Donald said, "It's only natural that you are similar to me, or even Uncle Scrooge. I don't really understand how you can act so much like someone you never even met," Donald paused, and confessed, "Sometimes I swear she standing in front of me instead of one of you,"

"How?" Louie asked, "So when Dewey does something reckless obviously, but,"

"It's in the little things," Donald interrupted, "When you say something, something she would say in that exact situation, when you make a face a certain way, that sorta thing,"

Out of the corner of Donald's eye he saw Scrooge's office light flick off, "It's really time for you to be getting to bed,"

"Can't we stay up a little longer," Louie asked.
Donald stood up, lifting Dewey onto the ground, "Nope, bedtime, I've let you stay up too late already, come on"

"Alright," Dewey grumbled.

"Uncle Donald?" Huey said as they walked into the manor.

"Yeah,"

"Thanks?"
"For what?"
"You know. Everything. Talking about mom."

"Well, I can't let Uncle Scrooge tell all the stories, you know how he gets," Donald replied jokingly, before opening the manor door, a distant look on his face, "besides, you guys are going to find stuff out whether I tell you or not, I'd rather you heard stuff from me,"

"Do you think you could tell us some stories sometime?" Huey asked.

"I'll do you one better, I think I know where to find some home videos,"

"Really?"

"Really,"