**jazz hands** guess whose updating earlier than expected (ITS ME)

I honestly can't believe there are people who actually enjoy my writing and this story in particular; after all, I came up with it when I had case of oh-so-terrible-horrible-indescribable writer's block. The comments I receive motivate me, so thank you so much to those who commented. (a lot of you enjoy angst just as much as I do lol :-) ). I'll try not throw Webby and Louie too much through the ringer, but what are favorite character for, amirite? :-)

anyways, ONWARDS TO THE STORY

In the expanses of a barren landscape, slumped down and oblivious to their surroundings, are two ducklings. They're asleep, back to back, leaning on each other. The sun is beating down on them, harsh rays unblinking and merciless to their situation, sand clinging to their clothes, and heat permeating the very air. Louie and Webby looks almost peaceful in their slumber, if the exhaustion on both their faces hadn't been so obvious; if their current situation was ignored.

Webby, even with signs of a concussion, had had enough sense of surrounding and of what was happening, to wake up in time to hear Louie's keening, hear his crying. She had said nothing as he had sobbed into her shoulder, only brushing off the seemingly endless grains of sand that had plagued them both. At least with all his crying, Webby figured Louie wouldn't get any sand in his eyes now, which would have probably made things worse. She told him that, but it only seemed to have made him cry harder.

Later he would tell her that that was something Huey would have said to him.

All her life, Webby had only known her Granny, knew that she was the only family she had left; if anything were to happen to her, the simplest thing to say was that Webby would be sunk. Inconsolable. And most of all, she'd have no other place to go. She didn't think would let her stick around the Manor and underfoot any longer, truth be told. She'd have to leave to god knows where, on her own or worse, she'd be taken away to St. Canard, where she doesn't know anybody-heck she didn't know anyone in Duckburg. No one would notice her absence and she'd be lost to the system, her worst fears confirmed: no matter how much her Granny had trained her for the real world, she wouldn't be able to fight her way through it, wouldn't make it through the ordeal whole. Because Webby didn't have anyone else in her corner. Betina Beakley had known that, so she had taught her granddaughter so much more than just the fighting. Of course, she had also taught her the fighting, all the fighting. Betina Beakley wasn't just a former British (super) spy for nothing.

Louie, on the other hand, had family. Heck, Louie even had extended family, a concept entirely foreign to Webby, that would immediately take him, Huey, and Dewey in, if anything ever happened to Donald. But even Webby had seen (and researched), in her short amount of time of watching the newly reunited Duck-McDuck family on their adventures, and in McDuck Manor, that their family was broken. Broken from the inside-out. There were arguments between Donald and Mr. McDuck that had shaken the walls of the Manor, over petty things, and over the ongoing mystery surrounding Della Duck. Donald had done his best to shield the children from his fighting with his uncle, but it didn't take a genius to deduce that if Huey, Dewey, and Louie's closest relatives were fighting with each other, over family matters, than there had to be some fighting and disunion in all their family.

To be surrounded by that, well, Webby would rather try to make it on her own than watch family grapple at each other's throats.

Then again, Granny would have probably snapped a neck rather than grappled one.

It also didn't take a genius to guess that if Donald one day simply disappeared, the triplets would be lost, floating adrift- he'd been there for them for forever, for everything, borderline smothering them with his overprotectiveness. Sure, she knew from accounts of the triplet's lives on the houseboat that there had been times the family had been in a few tight spots, but Donald had always been able to pull through, leaving the triplets relatively unscathed from the ordeals. And Dewey had proudly regaled tales of the fights he and Louie had gotten into to defend one another, and sometimes to even protect their Uncle Donald's honor-Huey's temper forced him to stay out of fights, or else he feared he would one day go overboard; he had said his family didn't need that extra trouble. Webby had gladly told him if the day ever came they were ever in extreme mortal danger, she would make sure to throw his Junior Woodchuck Guidebook at the villains, if that's what it took to get him to explode.

Other than that, the triplets had never been exactly taught how to fend for themselves, for the day an adult couldn't or wouldn't be able to do that. Granny had taken care of that; Webby may be extremely socially awkward, but when the time had come, and it had, several times, she had beat back anyone, anything willing to mess with her, with whatever she had within her reach (like the Great Hortense McDuck had once done, when she had chased an entire army down from Killmotor Hill by herself.) It wasn't to say that the triplets each didn't have their own fortes, but they had come to rely on their Uncle Donald indefinitely. And that wasn't specifically a bad thing: all kids did that; it was normal.

But Webby wasn't normal. She didn't have a normal childhood.

She silently thanked her Granny for that now, as she continued to console Louie, because Webby Vanderquack had made up her mind, that fine hour of dark o'clock.

If no one else was up, then she and Louie were not going to fall down too. Webby would make sure of that.

Life throws curveballs. Most make sure to avoid getting hit by them. Webby and Louie didn't even have the luxury of seeing the dang ball thrown at them. All they could now was at least attempt to get up, rub at the bruises they had, and declare that they were both ok.

Even if that wasn't exactly true.

Louie woke up and immediately wished he was sleeping again. The sun is too bright, he's parched, and sand that has somehow lodged its way in his throat is making it worse. He tries to stand up, and only gets up half way when his body decides that no, not right now, please sit back down now, or else we're going to pass out with heatstroke. Or whatever it is that's making his muscles cramp up.

He sits back down, ignoring the already affronted state of his appearance and body, ignoring the sand that had inevitably made its way into his hoodie (again), and ignoring his heartbeat, which seems to be trying to beat its way out of his body, with how fast it's going. It definitely isn't helping his headache, with it having decided to rear its ugly head again. His back and behind are numb from sitting down and leaning for- well, for as long as he'd been passed out. He needs some sleep, because keeling over from shock and all the screaming he's done did not count as beauty rest. The heat hasn't helped his case either; if Louie didn't know any better, he would have thought he had a concussion with all his trouble walking. (ha, as if he knew a lot about concussions)

Concussions.

Webby.

Louie just about breaks his neck swiveling his head around, frantically looking for her. Webby is nowhere to be seen and they'd both been dead to the world (ha ha) at the same time and he really must be more exhausted and out of it than previously thought, if Webby's mad skills at being an escape artist has him this confused. She clearly isn't here, so she had clearly gotten up and gone somewhere.

And that meant the knock on her head and subsequent passing out wasn't as bad as he had thought it was. After all, Webby had been awake to see his breakdown-crying hadn't been that embarrassing really; if he had cried at the movie theaters, then he certainly had a right to cry when his family disappeared right before his eyes.

(He's going to find them).

Another one of his family members have disappeared, but Louie reassures himself with the fact that Webby's Houdini and James Bond all wrapped up in one. She'd be fine, where ever she had gone… No reason to panic. Webby would be fine; she had gone off somewhere, but she would come back. He can't imagine her striking out on her own and leaving him behind. He doesn't want to.

That's why Louie has to hope she comes back.

Louie settles with taking off his beloved hoodie and wrapping it around his head. Like in the movies; like a mummy, Dewey would have eagerly added.

His attempts at standing are met with more success this time, and he wastes no time in setting up a little encampment, where he and Webby had both collapsed the night before. He drags pieces of sheets of metal that had ended up near there, taking care of not getting too close to where the beginnings of scorched sand mark the start of the radius of the crash site. Louie doesn't want to go there; not yet at least. He ignores the heat, and he ignores his thirst, ignores the thought that this would be a really cool story to post on social media if he had his phone, only focusing on yanking the sheets up the dune.

An hour later, there's a pitiful rendition of Eeyore's house of sticks sitting upon the knoll, except it looks like two giant, tin square plates leaning against one other. Needless to say, Louie is proud of himself, because he had finally got the dang thing to stand and stay in its place. It's a weird thing to be proud of having done, but Louie doesn't care.

Would Uncle Scrooge be proud? Probably not.

Huey would have done something a lot better in a shorter amount of time. Louie ignores that thought too.

He instead busies himself with another task: searching for his bag; he had grabbed it last minute, before the Sunchaser had erupted into a fiery mushroom cloud. But apparently, bags can move, because it ended up a little ways down the dune he and Webby had scrambled to, while they'd been escaping.

He goes to pick it up. He really shouldn't be surprised that he ended up falling down.

It's a rather abrupt end, sort of a cliff hanger even but I'm ending Chapter 2 here. I hope all of you enjoyed the 2nd Chapter of Life On A Dime, let me know what you all think (feedback/comments give me life and motivation).

As of now, that major, major question has not been answered yet, you all know what I mean :-)

Until next time, dear readers.