Louie woke with a start, frantically searching for his brothers, only to find them curled up on either side of him. He let himself drop back into the mattress, his heart hammering from the nightmare that had pulled him from sleep.

Two days. They'd been trapped in the house for forty-eight hours and forced to work for their captor. Graves would tower over them as they swept and mopped, cleaning each room of the home until it shone in the afternoon sun. He could still smell the pine of the cleaner.

Louie stretched, painfully, his limbs sore from the overuse. It seemed Graves wanted to keep them occupied and tired. It would mean less of a chance that the boys would try to escape. The only good thing about all the manual labor was the sleight-of-hand he could use to pocket a paper towel and a piece of charcoal from the fireplace. Each little item he and his brothers could collect, whether useful or not, was like an inch towards freedom.

The sound of footsteps pulled his attention back to their room, noting the gentle glow streaming in through the window. Morning. Louie shut his eyes against the fatigue and panic of having to go through another day of hard work. He knew Uncle Scrooge relished the chance to make his youngest nephew learn the benefits of hands-on labor, but this was bordering on abuse. They hadn't just cleaned the cabin. They scoured it of any trace of dirt and grime. They refinished old wood until it sparkled. But most of all, they had been forced to do it with the threat of severe punishment hanging over their heads. Louie wasn't sure what that punishment would be, but he figured it wouldn't help them escape.

The lock clicked, sending his heart into his throat. He kept his eyes closed as the door swung open and the heavy footsteps made their way inside.

"Get up." Graves kicked the bed, as he did when he wanted them awake. His voice grew louder as the three ducks refused to respond. "I said, get up."

"Give us a break." Dewey spoke clearly beside him. Louie wondered when his brother had woken up. "We're exhausted."

There was a yelp of surprise as the bed shifted and Louie's eyes flew open. Dewey hung from the falcon's grasp, kicking out against the hold. Beside him, Huey had sat up, watching the exchange with growing concern. The middle child wore a defiant glare, a sure sign that trouble was about to find them again.

"You will do as I say. Now, get moving." Graves growled, dropping the small form back onto the bed.

"And I said we need a break!" Louie watched the stubbornness flash through his brother's glare as he stared down the falcon. The large figure remained silent, eyes piercing the young duck with a calm that sent a chill through the youngest triplet.

"Very well." Graves' voice was deep and resigned, as though the decision had been made long before he had set foot in the room. Louie blinked, not sure what this meant. Had his brother won the argument? He quickly learned the answer to that question as the falcon pushed the blue-clad duck aside, bending to take hold of the other two with a solid grip.

"What? Wait!" Dewey's voice grew frantic with the sudden change of focus. "What are you doing?"

Louie met Huey's frightened eyes as they both struggled against their captor who was quickly leaving the room. Fear was evident in their middle brother's voice before the door was slammed behind them, effectively separating the brothers. They were carried to one of the locked closets, the bird setting Huey down with a terse growl to stay as he unlocked the deadbolt. Inside, a metal box, just big enough for one of them to sit in with their head lowered, lay open like the maw of a waiting shark.

"Inside." Graves gave Huey a shove towards the box, the duck hesitantly climbing inside with fresh tears clinging to his eyelids. Louie wanted to grab him and hold his brother close, away from the new prison, but the door quickly shut, trapping his older brother away in the cramped darkness.

"Please." Louie begged through the tears threatening to choke him. "We'll work, whatever you want! Just let him out!"

They stopped in front of another closet, the door opening to reveal a similar box to the other. Louie was lowered to stand before it, his heart hammering as he was pushed forward.

"Resistance will not be tolerated." Graves stated, giving the small form a hard glare. "This will be a lesson for all of you to not take my commands lightly."

Tears fell down his cheeks as he crawled into the box, letting out a sob as the door closed, leaving him to his own thoughts and fears.

OoOoOoO

Dewey scrubbed away another tear as it fell to the already spotless floor, finishing the small living room. Graves stood in the doorway, watching him stand with the bucket of soapy water. The last of the day's light was fading as they walked into the kitchen, a plate sitting at the table with the usual sandwich and water. The young duck felt sick at the reminder that his brothers hadn't been given either the whole day.

"Eat." The falcon ordered, sitting across to ensure Dewey did as he was told. He wanted to vomit, his stomach twisting at the idea of putting anything in it, but at the stern look from their captor, he quickly sat down, lifting the sandwich to his beak. Each bite was agony, but he forced himself to choke it down, washing the last of it away with the water.

With the wariness of a days worth of labor on top of the intense guilt, Dewey stumbled into the small bedroom, falling onto the mattress with a sob. He wasn't sure how long he'd lain there when the door opened again. Sitting up was painful, but he ignored it in order to see the two small figures pushed into the room. He jumped forward, catching them in shaking arms as they fell to the floor.

"Sorry, I'm sorry-" Dewey cried, clinging to his brothers.

A soft whimper fell from Huey, his face buried into the blue fabric at Dewey's shoulder. "N-not your fault."

"This guys-" Louie let out a hiccuped sob. "-a jerk."

The trio sat in the dark of their room feeling the pain of the day with each shuddering breath. They slowly made their way to the bed, unwilling to let go of the other. Dewey's heart ached with the gentle gurgling that echoed from his brothers' empty stomachs.

"Are you guys okay?" He eventually asked, unable to ease the guilt weighing on him.

They didn't answer immediately, letting out light sniffles. Louie took a breath, loosening his grip on Dewey's sleeve. "Remember when I got stuck in that cabinet on the houseboat?"

He remembered. His brother had been so freaked out at first, screaming for help. Once he and Huey had found him, Louie had settled down until their uncle could find a crowbar to pry the door open. When it finally opened, they found Louie with a content grin on his face. It was hard to remember he'd been freaked out only moments before.

He continued without needed acknowledgement. "Everything was okay, because I knew you guys were there. I didn't need to worry." There was a silence, interrupted by the gentle intake of breath that accompanied tears. The youngest's voice was a squeak as he tried to continue. "I just- that box- was so bad... because I knew you guys were being hurt too. I just wanted out."

Dewey felt the warm tears flow again with his brothers', Huey shivering against him, unable to express what his experience had been like. The sudden desire for their uncles was overwhelming and forced another sob from his chest. He hated Graves for everything he was putting them through and hated himself for not being able to protect his brothers from it.

"It'll be okay." Huey finally spoke with a whisper that left Dewey wondering if he was trying to convince then or himself. They pulled each other closer, comforted only by the warmth as they slowly drifted off into a fitful sleep with the hope that this would all end soon.

OoOoOoO

The three boys sat at the table, two of them eagerly devouring the first food they'd had in a day. Huey would never look at a sandwich the same again, but at the moment it was heaven to his angry stomach. He glanced over to Dewey who had barely touched his breakfast. It seemed Graves had noticed too and simply cleared his throat. The reaction was instantaneous, the blue-clad duck taking a large bite of the sandwich to appease their captor.

"We'll be going out today." The falcon spoke, an underlying threat present in his voice.

They finished eating and a short while later, they were lined up at the locked door, Graves fastening a length of cable to their wrists, effectively tying them together. Huey regarded the cuff on his arm with a sense of dread, as well as relief. If they were strapped together, they couldn't be separated. The problem lay with the attachment of the end to the falcon's belt. It meant, any chance to run would be halted by the large bird.

"Stay close." Graves gave the line a sharp tug, forcing the triplets to follow quickly behind him as they stepped through the door. Outside, the morning sun was casting bright, golden ray's through the trees, setting a stark contrast to the boys' mood as they trudge along a path into the woods. The falcon's legs were almost as long as they were tall, each stride forcing them to a slow jog just to keep up. Huey figured this was his plan. Everything Graves did was to leave them tired and unable to think straight enough to come up with a plan.

"Where are we going?" Huey hazarded to ask, hoping it wasn't straying outside the boundary of the rules. They were still doing as they'd been told.

"To pick up supplies." The reply was short and did not follow with any further explanation. Huey considered it a win, at least.

They continued at the grueling pace, the boys trying to keep their footing as the ran. The farther they went into the forest, the more difficult that task became.

"Can we- please- slow down?" Louie asked from the middle, his lungs heaving with effort. Other than the run, the other contributing factor to the hike's effects on the small ducks was the fact that they were somewhere on a mountain. The path had followed a steep slope through the woods. Even the experienced would have some difficulty running up it.

Huey was surprised when their captor slowed his pace down to the point they were walking rather than running, albeit quickly. His heart hammered just a bit faster at the prospect of getting in trouble again, but if he was upset, Graves didn't show it.

A hand found his, Huey turning to look over his shoulder at his little brother. Something wild was in his eyes, a frantic need for his big brother to keep his cool. But why? And then he saw it, the cuff dangling loosely around Louie's wrist. It looked attached, but his brother could easily slip out of it. How? The urge to ask was almost unbearable, but as he saw the nail held tight between Louie's fingers, he remembered the little he had collected during the initial cleaning of the house. Huey mouthed a quick 'good job' before returning his view to the trail in front of them, letting his arm hang back in his brother's grasp.

Louie made quick work of the cuff, his hand staying in Huey's until they were ready. He hadn't seen if Dewey's cuff was off yet, but as he felt the tight squeeze of his palm, he turned again to see both brother with their thumbs up, ready to execute whatever plan this was.

In one swift motion, all three cuffs slipped to the ground and they were running. Arms pumped with each pounding foot step back down the mountain. Blue and green stayed in front of him and he was glad of it, not wanting to lose sight of either one in their mad dash for anywhere but the clutches of the bird for hire. He dared not look back up the path, simply imagining the towering mass careening down after them. They needed to get into the woods. The path was too clear and Graves would easily catch up to them if they didn't move.

Dewey seemed to have the same idea, veering into the dense foliage at the next bend. Each footfall was a risk, but a sharp growl that sounded behind them was an indication of how worth it the direction was. Huey leapt over a log, his heart high in his throat with the rush of adrenaline and fear. He was so focused on running and jumping, he missed the growing roar until he nearly collided with Louie. They'd stopped at the edge of a steep riverbank that overlooked an angry, churning river.

"Stop!" Graves growled, rapidly closing the distance between them, a look of sheer murder on his face.

Huey clung to his brothers' shirts, willing his brain to find another solution. A solution found them.

His view of the falcon and the forest around him fell away, the dirt under his feet crumbling into the rushing waters below. And then, he was under, being swept down the river. The water was like ice, burning his limbs as he fought his way to the surface. He gasped in a lung-full of air as he burst through, frantically trying to get his bearings and a visual on his brothers.

Dewey broke the surface a second later, clawing at the water to stay afloat. Huey swam forward, latching onto one of the flailing arms.

"Calm down!" He ordered when his brother continued to thrash. "I've got you!" Their eyes met long enough for the panic to start ebbing away. With clarity came the next problem. "Where's Louie?"

A spluttering cough had them looking down stream again, catching the white feathers before they went under again. Huey's heart seized as he realized his brother was too far away and if he stayed under… that was it. He couldn't lose Louie. It was an impossible thought that left him colder than the water that carried them farther from their captor.

"Come on!" Still holding his older brother, Dewey began paddling forward, not willing to let the youngest go without a fight. He was rewarded when the duck in question popped out of the water again, gulping in air as he did. "Louie! Hang on!"

Louie looked frantic as he searched for the voice, locking eyes with Huey before they were swept through a formation of boulders in the river. Together, the two older brothers pushed and kicked with the flow of the water, slowly gaining on the younger. Their arms burned with the chill of the water, but as their hands wrapped into the green fabric and pulled, Huey found he couldn't feel it, too relieved to have a hold on his brother.

"What do we do?" Louie asked as the water pulled them faster, past tall embankments. Occasionally, a fallen tree would stick into the water, too far for them to reach in time.

Huey let his frantic mind calm, trying to recall the information he knew he had. "We need to get to the side, try to grab something so we can get out!" He saw the two nods, the group already pulling against the flow as they slowly made their way to the right of the river. No need being on the same side as Graves if they could help it.

Dewey saw it first. "Coming up on a tree! Get ready!" It was a long birch, its leaves long since gone, ravaged by the water it had fallen into. The three of them hit it, arms desperately wrapping around the trunk and branches. The river beat against them, trying to pull them back in. Huey dug his feet into the mud, reaching up to grab the edge of the embankment. He scrambled up, over the edge and spun, reaching down to help Dewey climb. He was just getting his foot up on the ledge when they heard Louie's startled cry. Both looked to see their little brother clinging to a branch after losing his grip on the log.

"Louie! Grab my hand!" Dewey had stepped back into the river, one arm extended as Huey held the other. The eldest watched as Louie pulled against the branch, trying to find purchase to reach up and grab the offered appendage.

Snap.

And then he was gone.

Huey wasn't sure where the burst of strength came from, but as he hauled Dewey out of the river, he knew the only thing he could focus on was running. They had to keep up. From their vantage, they could see the bright green and white, nearly choking as their brother broke the surface. They needed to get ahead of him, but the current was too strong, dragging the small duck farther down stream.

"Get to the side again!" Huey heard himself yell. He couldn't be sure if his brother heard it, the rush of the water drowning out the sounds around them.

"Oh no! No no no! Huey! Rapids!" He heard the warning, Dewey keeping pace just behind him. His mind was screaming that this couldn't be happening. A panicked search of the river banks offered little for Louie to grab. He was going to hit the rapids no matter what they did.

So Huey did the only thing he could think of. "Louie! You need to float on your back, feet in front of you!" He was rewarded with the sight of his brother doing as he was instructed. "Good! Keep your feet up so they don't get caught on the rocks! You're going to be okay!" The last part might have been more convincing if it weren't for the tears falling down his cheeks.

They watched with numb horror as the river took their brother into the thrashing, white waters and out of sight.

OoOoOoO

Louie took in a sharp breath before he plunged back into the river, doing his best to keep himself from hitting the bottom. He collided with another rock, unable to feel the jarring through his arm due to the freezing temperature. Lungs burning with the need for oxygen, he wanted to swim, paddle his way to the surface, but the current kept him under. There was a strong suction that pulled him farther down before he was shot back up, his head breaking the surface and finally allowing him to take in a gasping breath.

Something in the way the river flowed made itself known as he bobbed back under, the erratic tossing of the rapids diminishing. Louie was able to sluggishly swim back to the surface, treading weakly across the now smooth surface. His head was spinning as the new aches ran through his exhausted form and he wasn't sure where he was swimming. He just wanted to find an edge, anything to stop his progress.

Pain flared up Louie's side as he slammed into a log wedged against a rock and it was all he could do to cling to it. His head felt heavy and everything was taking on a grayish haze, the river roaring in his ears. It could have been a few seconds or minutes, Louie lost track, when he heard the far off calls of his name, but he paid it no mind, focused on the wood that was keeping him from sinking. Hands found him, pulling his arms free of the tree with little resistance and carrying him up into the soft grass at the river's edge.

"Louie?" He could hear the trembling in Huey's voice, gentle fingers pushing back the feathers across his forehead. "Are you okay?"

Despite being waterlogged, his voice was ragged as he gave a weak answer. "Terrible ride. Zero outta ten."

A sobbed snort of laughter sounded from his other side, Dewey leaning over him with tears streaked through the dirt on his face. "Never do that again."

Louie smiled, knowing full well he hadn't wanted to try it the first time. He let his eyes drift shut, the terror from his ordeal stealing away any energy he had left.

When he opened them again, he found his view had shifted, his chin resting on Dewey's shoulder as he was carried on his back. When had they picked him up? And why were they walking through the woods? Answers were alluding him, suffocated by the pounding in his head.

"Hey." Louie's voice came out a pained whisper and he realized just how much everything hurt. Each step towards their destination was a spike through his limbs and his side.

"Hey." Dewey answered breathlessly. "Hey, Huey, wait a sec. Louie's awake."

Huey was leading, which made sense for reasons he couldn't produce. His oldest brother stopped and made it back to them in a matter of seconds. He looked worried as he rested a hand on his little brother's head. "How are you feeling?"

Louie grimaced at the question. Normally, he would blow an injury out of proportion simply to score sympathy points and get some extra time on the couch, TV all to himself. This was different. They were in serious trouble and he'd just been sent through nature's washing machine set to high. They needed him to be okay. He needed to be able to help them if the circumstances called for it.

So, he did what came natural. He lied. "Just a little sore, but I'm okay."

The relief was instant, Huey's shoulders falling as the tension lifted. He gave him a smile before asking. "Think you can walk?"

No. "Yeah, think so." Louie let out a small grunt as Dewey gently lowered him to the ground. His older brothers kept a hold of his arms as he faltered, righting himself a moment later. The middle brother pulled Louie's arm over his shoulders, not willing to trust his brother to stay up on his own. Hopefully this would be faster than having to be carried.

The threat of being found by Graves was still present, forcing them to continue on. Huey had chosen to take them north, away from the mountains that peaked over the trees. It was slow going and by the time the sun was high above them they were still trudging down the slope. More than once, a root caught their feet, causing them to stumble. It would halt their progress until Louie was able to get his footing again, trying his best to hide the pain that shot through his side. He knew he would have to tell his brothers eventually, that the pain was getting worse, but for now, he kept it to himself. They'd find a road or town soon enough, then they would call their uncles to come get them. Simple. Just, not easy, but it was the thought of finding help that kept him going.

OoOoOoO

Scrooge frowned at the demand that lay on his desk. Regarding it as though it were a knife meant to pierce his heart. In a way, it had, but he'd been through far too much in his lifetime to let it show. This was a ransom, but, unlike most that required money in order to ensure the safe return of his loved ones, this one was more on the lines of blackmail. As long as he did as he was ordered, the boys would stay unharmed. There would be no exchange. They were gone.

His first action, per the note, would be to deliver three million dollars to a location by the marina. If he didn't, consequences would follow. As much as he wanted proof of life, he wasn't willing to put his nephews through more hardship than they were dealing with right now.

He grimace as he remembered at the beginning of this nightmare how confident he was that the boys could handle themselves and would get out of the predicament on their own. It didn't even cross his mind to be worried, but then they had reached the twenty-four hour mark with no call from the boys or their captor. Now, they were approaching the end of the second day and his gut was churning with the realization that maybe they weren't able to escape. The note had only solidified that fear.

A knock at the door alerted him that Beakley was ready for the trip. Taking hold of the paper, Scrooge pushed away from the desk, his other hand grabbing the small briefcase. It was surprising how little room three million took up. Just one little case to keep the boys safe for another day.

OoOoOoO

Dewey didn't have a lot of early memories about his brother and when he first learned to talk. Mostly because he was learning at about the same time. He'd be hard pressed to recall the day Louie had told his first lie, but the subsequent ones after, especially the ones that involved him, those had been spectacular in their difficulty to distinguish between fact and fiction. His brother had a ridiculously strong gift to spin the truth.

Today, he was acutely aware of what those lies could lead to.

They had stopped within the confines of a grove of twisted trees, the trunks creating a shelter they could rest in. Dewey had climbed in ahead of Louie, turning to help his brother. As soon as he'd made it inside Louie had collapsed. The two conscious ducks had immediately freaked out, laying him down as best they could while trying to remember their first aid training. Dewey knew the basics, but this seemed so far out of his understanding. Did Louie have a concussion? Should they try waking him up? Should they move him? Was he dying and they were helplessly watching?

Then, Huey had lifted the sweatshirt.

Dark bruising under the feathers on his left side was the next indication that Louie was in serious trouble. Huey had suggested broken ribs and possible internal bleeding, but there was no way their little brother would have been able to walk down a mountain the way he had if that were the case. Further inspection showed bruising on his shoulder and a sizable lump on the side of his head. Concussion was sounding like the more plausible cause of their brother's unconscious state, but that didn't mean it was the only contributing factor.

"What now?" Dewey asked, leaning against a tree trunk, his eyes never leaving the slow rise and fall of Louie's chest.

Wiping a stay tear off his cheek, Huey shrugged. "We can't move him like this." That was obvious, but staying put wasn't an option. They didn't have any food or supplies and they couldn't know if their brother was going to get worse. "I think we should stay here. At least for tonight. If-" He stopped, swallowing hard against the ache Dewey knew was growing in his heart. "If Louie doesn't wake up by morning, one of us is going to have to keep going."

"No way!" He knew it could be their only option, but that didn't mean he had to like it. "We have to stay together. We could- we could build one of those sled thingys and drag him behind us."

Huey seemed to deflate at this suggestion, his voice growing tight with the confession he never wanted to make. "We don't have any way to do that. Usually, I'd have my pack with all my tools in it."

He knew that, too. The tears were welling up with the fear and frustration of the situation and he wanted to continue arguing. Feeling angry seemed better than scared, but as he looked at Huey, fear just as present in his brother as it was in him, he couldn't bring himself to speak. He still wouldn't let either of them go on alone.

A tense silence stretched between them, both working to find any other option. The best solution was for Louie to wake up and be able to continue with them. The worst would be to let Huey or himself leave the other two in order to find help, but even if the one found help, how were they supposed to find the others once they did get the authorities involved? It just wasn't anything the middle brother was willing to consider. He would carry Louie if he had to.

"I'm going to get a shelter started. See if I can find some food, too." Huey finally spoke, Dewey aware of the burden of responsibility weighing heavily on his brother's shoulders. As the eldest stood, he joined him, pulling him into a fierce hug. He needed to know that he wasn't alone, even if he did have the greatest skillset to keep then alive.

"We're going to get through this, together." He hoped the words would give enough relief, even as he realized they were words he desperately needed to hear himself. As they separated, Huey gave a small nod, wiping another tear from his eye.

"I won't be far." He offered, climbing through the entrance to their hideaway. "Call if anything changes." They both regarded Louie, complete understanding passing between them.

And then, he was gone. Off to complete tasks that had been well practiced through his Junior Woodchuck training. Dewey suddenly wished he'd been as enthusiastic about it and with growing shame, he understood why so much lay on Huey. He was potentially the only one keeping them alive.