A/N: The next installment in my one shot series takes place a little after the events of the finale. I hope you guys enjoy this one, it touches on a little bit heavier of a topic. Losing loved ones, depression and the like. But of course as always there shall come comfort. Any and all reviews are always welcome, I love hearing from you wonderful readers.
Chapter Two: Happy Memories
Donald comes home feeling rather down, he has fears and doubts about how his status as a parent stacks up to his glorious Uncle. Hopefully a trip down memory lane will bring him some happiness.
Donald shivered as he fumbled around in his pockets for the house key that Scrooge had entrusted him with. With his houseboat sunk under the dark waters of the bay he had no choice but to live inside the mansion at this point. At least there would be a fireplace inside, he thought to himself as he struggled to produce the key. It was oddly breezy tonight.
He emptied the contents of his pockets onto the doorstep. Some change clinked against the stone, some rolling off into the night. Bits of garbage from his day that inevitably got stuffed into his pocket when no bins were to be found also fell out. He briefly thought that if Scrooge would pony up some money for a light out here, then he wouldn't have to sift through a pile of nonsense by moonlight.
Just as his fingers finally touched something that resembled his key the door to the mansion swung open. Donald looked up, on his hands and knees.
"What're ya doing down there making all that racket?" Scrooge said, looking down on him.
Donald sighed. "I barely made a peep, how could you have heard me?"
"Are you kidding, I can hear a penny drop from fifty yards." Scrooge answered as Donald hastily scooped up the change that he had dropped prior.
Scrooge's nephew stood up and followed him inside and over to the cozy looking red sofa in the middle of the living area. The two of them sat down, and Scrooge offered him a cup of the tea he'd been enjoying to which Donald quickly, yet politely, refused. He knew that tea would taste more like hot water than anything.
Donald never realized how eerie the mansion looked at night. He'd only ever come in to tuck tell the boys goodnight, never staying long enough to take a good look when the sun went down. The fireplace housed a dancing flame, the only source of light in the room, casting shadows which joined in its performance.
"Working late again?" Scrooge asked him, a hint of judgment in his tone.
"I just got done working a double shift. One of the other workers called in, and I couldn't pass up the chance to get some extra cash." He yawned, even by firelight Scrooge could tell that his nephew's eyes were heavy and dark.
The old duck looked him over, with those eyes full of pity that Donald didn't care for at all. Donald had always been one to push himself to his limits trying to earn money so his boys could be happy. So they could have toys, and clothes and food. Now that they lived With Scrooge some of that pressure should have been taken off of him, but it still didn't feel that way. In fact, he'd been working even more than usual.
Donald knew that his Uncle didn't mean to make him feel so worthless compared to him, but that didn't make it better. He knew his kids could get more from Scrooge than anything he could give them, but still, he worked himself to exhaustion every day trying to provide something for them. To show his kids that he could take care of them. It would be easier if people would stop it with that damn look all the time.
"Donald, you know you and the boys are welcome to stay here as long as you want? You don't have to push yourself so hard to earn extra money for them."
For Donald, It was nights like this that were the hardest. Why couldn't his Uncle have just been asleep? He surely didn't need this talk right now. He knew they would always be welcome here, heck he was even grateful for that. But he felt like less than nothing compared to his Uncle. Lately, he couldn't help that feeling.
Scrooge reached out and touched his shoulder. "It's not just for you and the boys you know? It gets quite lonely in this empty mansion without the kids running around all day; I want you all to stay Donald. Just don't tell anyone I said that, can't have people thinking I've gone soft." He added in a weak attempt at easing the tension.
The attempt at humor did cause Donald to chuckle a little. It was rare for his Uncle to admit he cared about anything other than money.
"You've given my boys more than they ever got from me the whole ten years that I've raised them. And don't get me wrong, I'm happy that they have good food and a warm place to sleep. I'm just upset that I can't be the one to give them all those things. They must think I'm such a failure" Donald put his head into his hands and rubbed his eyes. "Everyone gives me this look like they're surprised that I even bother to keep going. That they're sorry for me. What would Della…"
"There isn't anything for them to feel sorry about. Sure you may not have as much money as some, or most even, but the things that matter when you're raising kids don't have anything to do with the cost of your living arrangement or how fancy your clothes look. You've done a wonderful job with the things that count."
Donald sat and listened to his Uncle as he lectured him about not feeling depressed of all things.
"What do you even know about raising kids?" Donald spat before taking in a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so harsh."
"No, that's exactly right! I don't know all of the hardships that came with raising those boys. You might think you can't provide as well as I can, but you're wrong lad. You've already got a ten year head start on me in the providing department."
"Oh please, you get to take them on these grand adventures everyday, feed them food I've never been able to afford, give them a massive home to run around in, and I don't have a place in that part of their lives. They've probably already forgotten all those boring years living on the boat with me."
"Nonsense, you know those boys up there waited up an hour past their bedtime for you to come home tonight? They could barely keep their eyes open they were so tired, but you know why they wanted to wait?"
Donald shook his head. "No, and why did you even let them stay up so late in the first place? You know bedtime is at nine."
"Come now Donald that's really beside the point. The kids stayed up because you always come in there and kiss them goodnight before they sleep, which they no doubt pretend to hate when they're around you, sure. But they missed that tonight, I could tell they were worried about where you were. You haven't exactly been around much with your working; they just wanted to see you once today. All this extra work you've been doing is what's letting them down, not your lack of money. And if you think they could ever forget anything you do you're wrong. You're the only dad they've got Donald."
A wave of guilt washed over Donald. He had been working a lot these last few weeks. He left today before the boys got up and got back after they were asleep. They hadn't had a chance to see him all day. It was like that more often than he'd care to admit. Maybe all he needed to give them was a little more time. Perhaps that would help this feeling of failure he'd been stuck with lately.
"Your boys love you, Donald, you've done a great job raising them. But forget this notion that you have to provide all the monetary support for them to respect you. They already love you for all of the other things you do for them I'm sure."
Their heads turned suddenly as they heard a loud creak come from the stairs nearby. Three young ducks looking very sleepy were crouched on them trying to conceal themselves behind the large railing and failing miserably.
"Boys come on down; we know you're listening." Donald couldn't help but smile as the very tired ducks waddled their way over to the sofa to join their uncles. The three brothers climbed onto the couch and cuddled up next to Donald, laying their heads on his shoulders and lap.
"I thought you went to sleep ages ago," Scrooge mentioned as the three of them shared a yawn.
Huey rubbed his eyes. "We did for a little while, but then I wanted to get some water and woke up Dewey and Louie on accident, and then we heard you talking down here and got curious."
"Sorry dad, we heard you are talking about us, and your money and stuff," Dewey said.
Donald still couldn't get used to them calling him that. Ever since Louie told his brothers that they were free to call him that whenever they wanted, they'd been saying it a lot. He liked it that they thought of him like that, but it was still weird to hear.
Donald ran his hand through Dewey's messy hair. "You don't have to be sorry boys. I'm the one who should be sorry; you shouldn't have to hear me talk about stuff like that. That's adult stuff that you shouldn't worry about okay?"
"But we love you no matter how much money you make." Louie wrapped his arm around his Uncle. The boys were always very clingy when they were tired.
Dewey scooched a little closer to Donald. "Yeah, but we wish you weren't working so much. We don't ever get to see you anymore. We'd rather spend time with you, even if it means we don't get as many toys and stuff."
"We're worried about you," Huey brought up.
Donald was now feeling terrible. It was true; he had been neglecting them lately in favor of working longer and longer hours. It couldn't be helped if he felt like he was letting them down either way. It's just the way he felt. What made it worse was that they had to see him in such a state.
"You know boys; everyone has times in life where they feel a little sad. Sometimes we know why, and other times it just takes us over for no reason. And no matter what you do it doesn't want to go away."
Scrooge cleared his throat on the other side of the couch "Eh, Donald? Is this an appropriate conversion to have?" His eyes darted towards his grand-nephews then back at Donald.
"They have as much right to know about how I've been feeling as anyone."
The kids looked up at Donald, all of them seemed a little confused. It was strange hearing their Uncle, who was usually so happy around people talk like this.
"Boys when I found out your mom disappeared I swore I'd always take care of you in her place. But I feel like I've been letting her down lately. I don't make enough money to take care of you the way you deserve…"
"What are you talking about?" Huey interrupted him. "Shouldn't we get to be the judges of whether or not you're taking care of us well?"
"Yeah, we love having you as our dad," Dewey added. "Even if you can be boring sometimes."
Donald chuckled at that. He supposed that he could be rather boring, especially compared to their mutually much richer Uncle.
"Yup and you always made sure we had clothes and food. But you also worked your butt off to give us toys, and to take us out places." Louie joined in trying to cheer up their uncle. "You're one of the hardest working ducks I know."
"And you were always there when we needed you too. You think we forgot that stuff but we remember some things. Like what about when we were five? Dewey was starting to have all those nightmares, and you got him that stuffed animal to make him feel better. He still sleeps with that thing." Huey giggled.
Dewey blushed a little. He did still sleep with that stuffed dog hidden under his pillow; he didn't realize that his brother's knew about that. It didn't matter anyway, the toy still made him feel close to his Uncle.
Donald thought back to that time, it felt like such a long time ago. The boys had been about to start school that year, and the separation anxiety had been affecting Dewey and Louie way more than their older brother. They didn't want to be away from him for a whole school day; they wanted to stay with him. Maybe it was his fault that they had been so dependent on him, perhaps he had been too overprotective?
The nights following that one had been hard. Louie was handling the notion of attending school a little better after Donald had assured him that he'd have his brothers there to keep him company. Dewey, on the other hand, would not stop having these horrible nightmares about being abandoned. He had tried to assure his nephew that of course he'd never do something like that, and that he'd always be there. The dreams persisted.
Sleepless nights had become normal in the following weeks. Donald had allowed Dewey to sleep in his bed, which had helped a little. But it wasn't until he'd thought to try buying him a little friend, something to comfort him when he felt alone, that he managed to stop the nightmares.
"Dewey, this is Spot." He had said, extending a small stuffed dog. It was a simple, cheap-looking brown dog with white spots and floppy ears, but to Dewey it would become his best friend. "He's my special friend, and he'll keep you company whenever we have to be apart."
Dewey reached out his little hand as Donald gently gave his nephew the toy.
"When you have him with you, you'll have me with you too, that way you'll never have to feel lonely. He's a little bit magic that way." Donald smiled as his little boy stared in wonder at the gift.
Things like that, they weren't in any of the books that he had read. For most of their lives so far he felt like he'd been winging pretty much everything as he went. It's not like he was expecting to have to raise three boys after all. Even so, he was proud of the young men he'd raised; they could have turned out awful with the life his kids had to go through, instead, they turned out to be good boys, mischievous boys, sure, but at least they were kind. That was more important to him than anything.
Dewey had squeezed that little puppy toy so hard when Donald gave it to him. He was glad that he loved it so much, and kind of proud that he was able to come up with the idea, as simple as it seemed.
Once Dewey had Spot to sleep with the nightmares seemed to stop, and as far as he knew they never came back. He couldn't beleive that his boys remembered that time.
Donald snapped back to reality as he saw his boys staring up at him, probably wondering why he hadn't answered the question Huey had posed a moment ago.
"Of course I remember that day, I couldn't sleep for weeks because Dewey kept waking me up every night. That's hard to forget." Donald laughed.
The boys were too sleepy to let out more than a soft chuckle. Louie glanced up at his Uncle and smiled.
"Yeah and you accepted me for who I am, not every parent would do that. I was so scared to tell you that I had a crush on that boy in class, but you made me feel like it was a totally normal thing," Louie explained. "You didn't need money for that, either."
Dewey chimed in wanting to include himself in the conversation. "Hey, what about that time when Huey was getting picked on for being a huge nerd and almost wanted to quit school,"
Huey glared at his brother. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I can call you a nerd 'cause I'm your brother; it's only mean if other people do it," Dewey said, trying to explain how sibling privileges work. "Besides, you know I love ya that way."
Donald had already tuned out his kid's bickering, a skill that had been well developed over the years, thinking back to the incident they were referring to. That had been another case he hadn't thought to prepare for.
That day had started out perfectly normal as he recalled. Donald sent the boys on their way to school; they had just begun their 3rd-grade classes about a month ago, and Huey was loving all the new topics they were learning. It pleased Donald to know that he wouldn't have to convince at least one of his boys to go to school every morning.
Huey was always explaining to him how to do different math problems and the newer, bigger, words they were learning. Honestly it was stuff that Donald himself had forgotten a long time ago having been out of school for so long, but he loved seeing that his boy was excited about it all.
What he hadn't thought about was the fact that the kids would get more ruthless the older they got, and they had started making fun of Huey for being so smart.
Donald remembered squeezing his oldest child in a tight hug as he bawled his eyes out. He had picked them up from class, and according to Huey's brothers, the other kids had been teasing him because he liked learning so much. Dewey and Louie had stood up for their brother, and that made him the proudest of all, but that didn't change the fact that he had a crying eight-year-old clinging to him. Just great.
When the four of them got home, he pulled Huey to the side to talk with him. It took a while for him to finally stop crying long enough to get any words in.
Donald moved Huey so that he was standing in front of him. His eyes were puffy and red, he sniffled as Donald held him there.
"Huey, honey, what happened." Donald had asked him with the soothing voice he used to calm his angry or crying kids. He waited very patiently for Huey to get his words out.
"I never w-want to go back to s-school, ever again!" Huey hiccuped. "They called me a nerd; they said I'd n-never get any friends 'cause everyone h-hates smart kids who know lots of stuff."
Donald rubbed Huey's back comfortingly. "Huey, you love school and learning. Don't let some bullies stop you from doing the things you like." He picked up the small duck and placed him onto the couch next to him. "Kids get jealous of people who are smarter than them, so they call them bad names and make fun of them." Donald explained, looking right into his nephew's eyes. "You are going to be a great scientist, or engineer, or anything that you want because you're such a smart kid."
"Really?" Huey sniffled.
Donald smiled at his boy. "Absolutely kiddo, people are going to call you a nerd, but be proud of it, there's nothing to be ashamed of. Wear that title like a badge of honor. One day you're gonna be the boss of all those bullies, and you'll be doing amazing things with all the knowledge you'll have."
Huey nodded, accepting his uncles words of wisdom.
"So do you think we can try going back to school tomorrow." Donald asked. His 8-year-old nodded and gave him a big hug. "That's my boy."
"You were lost in thought again." He heard Scrooge quietly tell him, as he drifted back into reality once more.
Donald glanced down at his boys. All of them were fast asleep in his lap just like when they were little. For a moment he felt a short pain in his heart. He wished Della could have seen the wonderful children she gave birth to. That she could see how thoughtful and kind they had turned out to be, going so far as to try to comfort him when his deression had overtaken him.
He couldn't believe that his boys actually did remember some of those things. Maybe he had some impact in their lives after all. He was lucky to have them.
They're just like you sis, he thought to himself as they snored softly. They really do make everything around them so much better. Heck, they managed to bring Scrooge and I back together after all these years. All I want is for them to be happy, maybe money isn't the answer? I need to be here for them, like I used to be before we started living here, and they can be here for me too.
I wonder if you're still out there Della. Sometimes I hope that you found a way to survive up there for all these years. I know that's a silly dream, but what I wouldn't give to have it be true. For you to see your boys for the first time. All I know is that until then, even if that's forever, I will take care of these kids. I can't give them money, but I'll give them enough love for you and I both. That's my new promise to you.
Donald stretched out his arms. "Well I'm gonna get these sleepy heads back into bed, mind carrying one?" Donald asked his Uncle. "They're not as light as they used to be, two is pretty much my limit."
Scrooge nodded. "Sounds good, then you should get some well earned sleep too. And don't you worry about money anymore alright? I may be cheap but I do care about you and the boys, I'm happy to get you anything you need. And that doesn't make you any less of a parent to them. I hope they were able to show you that"
Donald nodded and smiled at that. Scrooge lifted Huey gently off of the sofa, careful not to wake him. Donald took Dewey and Louie in each arm holding them close to his chest as they worked there way to the boys bedroom.
The elder ducks placed each one in thier beds before Scrooge headed for his own room. Donald stayed behind a moment, watching his boys sleep. They looked so at peace, he was glad that they could still sleep soundly after everything they'd learned this month about their mother. He leaned over each one and kissed them each on their foreheads before turning towards the door.
"Goodnight my sons."
He knew he would never shake of the lingering sadness of everything that he'd lost ten years ago. How could he? And maybe he wouldn't ever be able to give them everything in the world. But these boys of his were still here with him, and they were enough. They had to be enough. And he'd give them all the love in the world instead.
