I am such trash for the idea of Lena a part of the family. You can tell, can't you?
Freedom from Fear
Chapter 6
Freedom's Ring
The bell on the Magic Box wicca shop dingled.
Black Arts Beagle looked up from where he was perusing a novel during a slow day, and did a double take.
"Le Strange? Is that you?"
"Hey Black. Still working here I see," Lena said with a smile, clearly amused at the idea of a Beagle with an honest job.
"Where you been, girl? Feels like you dropped off the face of the earth!"
"Dealing with family issues," came the reply, her smile disappearing, "Suffice to say, my abusive witch of an aunt isn't in the picture anymore."
Black Arts gawked at her. He'd known Lena Le Strange for some time, the duckling being one of the shop's regulars. He'd always suspected that the aunt she ran errands for wasn't exactly kind to the young teen (and considering how Ma Beagle acted sometimes, that was saying something), but whenever he'd tried to press, she shut down. Seeing her talk so blatantly about it…
"You okay, kid?"
"Am now, thanks. I'm going to be seeing a therapist tomorrow to start working on some lingering issues, but I'm in a much better household now. So, business. It's books today. What do you have on minor Greek gods?"
Black Arts gave her a look, but finally decided to let it drop. Lena seemed brighter, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, so it didn't matter what happened so long as she was okay. He certainly wasn't going to mess with what was likely a good thing for her. He was a Beagle, not a monster.
"Anyone specifically?" he asked, walking around the counter and making his way toward the bookshelves at the back wall.
"Phobos. I'm working on a lead."
"Better be a good lead," Black Arts said, "Phobos is one of those gods they made some pretty bloody sacrifices to. And not bulls and stuff like the rest of them were happy with, this guy had temples built out of skulls."
"I'll be careful, but it's an important project," she replied, following him.
They worked fast, searching through the shelves. Black Arts was able to find her a few slim books, and she gladly purchased them. She also threw in a ten, explaining that it was owed money from the contacts.
"The butler ghost came from you?"
"Had to help a friend's family with something. They worked great, by the way."
As Lena made to leave, Black Arts called out to her
"You be careful, Le Strange. That's fear itself you're researching."
Lena stopped, slumping a little.
"I've already seen my fears," she replied softly.
And with that, she left.
Outside, Lena took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She then got out her phone and earbuds and pulled up her music app, letting a rapid violin beat and mellow voice calm her nerves. Even with knowing Magica couldn't possess her anymore, she still knew she was out there, scheming, and she carried a seed of worry in her heart because of it.
She shook her head, banishing those thoughts, and continued to walk, letting the music wash over her.
The day is the wife whom I elude
The one to whom I should be right
Although forewarned by peers and kin
I always get into the night…
oOo
Lena entered the large building, weaving around several playing children. When she'd been told about Funso's Fun Zone, she'd been expecting it to be busy, but the sheer amount of children around actually stunned her for a second.
Hopefully the boys had found a relatively quieter table, because crowds were something she'd have to get used to. Magica never exactly let her go to the park to play.
She tried to keep a tight grip on her anxiety as she looked over the restaurant side of Funzo's, finally spotting Webby's bow in one corner. She made her way over and slid into a seat, exhaling sharply.
"Busier than I thought it'd be," she said.
"Thankfully, I was able to hook us up with a table off to the side, out of the greater chaos," Louie said.
"You okay, Lena?" Webby asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Lena had swiftly learned that Webby was a very tactile person when I came to people she cared about. It was nice.
"I'm fine. Where's Red and Blue?"
"Getting drinks," Webby replied, "Pizza should be here soon, too."
As if on cue, Huey and Dewey arrived with four cups of soda. A waitress trailed behind them, two large pizzas balanced on her arms. Louie got up and helped with one, and soon enough, the five children were chowing down.
"This is actually pretty decent pizza," Lena said.
"Told you," Dewey said.
"Your errands go good, Lena?" Webby asked.
"I got a few books. Hopefully that will give us a starting point."
"Too bad you can't just look up this stuff online," Louie said.
"Basic stuff about Phobos, sure. But more mystical things? Generally not a good idea. You have to understand, magic is a force unto itself, a universal power like gravity or magnetism. That kind of stuff doesn't like to be digitized. Not that there haven't been people who have tried, but…"
"What happened to them?"
"You add electricity to eldritch forces, and you end up attracting all sorts of attention. Generally the wrong kind. Demons are vain and curious creatures, and anyone dealing with them has to know exactly what to do or they're in serious trouble. Can you imagine what would happen if information about demonic entities was on the Internet for any yahoo to look up?"
The younger ducks thought about it for a moment, then arrived at the logical conclusion. They all shuddered.
"That sounds like an invitation for someone to do something stupid," Huey said.
"In spades. Even experienced magic users have to tread carefully when dealing with certain arcane forces. According to Magica, my grandfather was a very powerful warlock, but the second he ran afoul of an entity called Cipher…"
Lena ran her finger across her throat and made a choking sound.
"And if a powerful and experienced warlock can get deep-sixed by the wrong demon, what chance does a rank amateur have?" Dewey asked.
"Which I think is Lena's point," Webby said, "Put the wrong information in the wrong hands, and it's a recipe for disaster."
The subject soon changed to school, with Louie complaining about homework as per usual.
"I mean, this stuff about World War Two is interesting, don't get me wrong, but do we have to have so much work to do? And don't get me started on math! Webby, you're lucky to be home-schooled."
"Speaking of school, will you be attending any time soon, Lena?" Huey asked.
"Actually, it's looking like I'll be joining Webby for online tutors and stuff," Lena shrugged.
"Why?"
"Two reasons. One, my anxiety and PTSD is still a shifting thing. We're still working out the parameters of what sets me off. Public school setting, probably a bad idea."
"Yeah, I can see that," Dewey said, "Elementary's bad enough sometimes, what's middle or high school like?"
"Second reason, Magica yanked me out of that orphanage when I was pretty young, and she didn't do much teaching outside of magic, so my level is a lot lower than my actual age. Beakley gave me some tests. My reading comprehension is easily college level, going through all those old books with Magica was good for something. But my science and math scores were atrocious, and my history wasn't much better. Basically, I'm too advanced in one area, and in the others…well, I've kind of outgrown the third grade."
"So private tutors are kind of the only option, then," Webby said, "At least we'll be study buddies!"
"Keep a positive look on these things, that good," Huey said, "So, first day out of the mansion. You having a good time?"
"Good food, good company, got to go to my favorite shop. Yeah, I'm riding high on life," Lena replied.
"Here's to a future of freedom!" Webby laughed, holding her cup high.
The others joined her toast, a big smile on Lena's face.
oOo
Lena took the offered book from the tentacle and set it on the shelf.
"There, sorted," she said to herself.
She pet Fred's limb, then pulled out her notebook and one of her new books and settled in for some research. She poked at her phone, bringing up her music app and deciding to go with one of the app's recommended mixes on a lark. She skipped her earbuds, letting the phone itself softly play music. She just wanted some background noise as she worked.
She explored the volumes, writing down what felt pertinent as she pieced together a path to the Hand of Phobos, pausing only to note a song she decided she liked so she could add it to her own playlists later. She continued this work until she heard a knock on her trapdoor.
"Lena, dinner!" came Webby's voice.
"Be down in a bit, let me finish this page!" she called back.
She finished her work quickly, and slipped down the trapdoor to meet Webby below.
"So do you know what we're having?"
"Salmon and rice," Webby said, "Donald cooked."
"Really? I didn't hear the smoke alarm go off."
"He's actually really good in the kitchen. Makes me wonder why he never got a job as a chef."
"Speaking of jobs, what's he doing now?"
"Aside from helping around the house, Uncle Scrooge gave him a part-time job as his secretary. He kind of needed it, since Granny always complained when those kinds of duties were shoved on her."
"And that's working?"
"Donald's an accountant, you know. Professionally, I mean."
"Actually, no I didn't," Lena said, "Huh. Didn't expect that."
There was a brief detour to a bathroom to wash their hands (very needed in Lena's case, given the ink smears from her work), and they soon arrived in the dining room in time for Donald and Mrs. Beakley to bring out the food.
What followed was a typical family dinner. Conversation flowed smoothly and everyone enjoyed each other's company.
"So I found some stuff about Sparta that looked like it might lead to something," Lena said to Scrooge, "They were big into the worship of Ares, and I found several references to his sons Phobos and Deimos. Seemed like a good place to start."
"Good thinking, lass. I've already reached out to some of my contacts in the archeological fields for information. Hopefully we'll get an adventure out of this."
"Which I'm sure I'll enjoy, but at the moment, I'm more concerned about getting ahold of this thing."
"Careful, lass. That kind of focus on the prize nearly got me, Donald, and Della killed while looking for the Treasure of the Golden Suns."
"Whatever happened to that captain guy, anyway?" Donald asked, "We kind of left him trying to dig into the million tons of dirt the temple got buried under."
"I looked into it awhile back," Scrooge said, "Still digging, poor sod."
"That sounds like a story," Dewey said.
The boys cheered for the story, and Scrooge chuckled.
"Alright, alright. So it all started when Donald and Della were young, and they had come to live with me at the mansion. Their parents, my sister Hortense and her husband Quackmore, had died in a car accident. Quackmore's folks were going through a rough time on the farm, and couldn't take them in. So in addition to financing a loan for the farm, I took the twins in. Anything to take the pressure off."
"My sister and I were going through a rough time," Donald said, "And we actually ran off after an argument with Uncle Scrooge. Looking back, none of us were in a good state of mind. We'd lost our parents, he'd lost his sister, and neither party was used to each other. We had some growing pains. Anyway, as we were sneaking out of the mansion, we noticed some suspicious characters slipping away too. Naturally, Della wanted to follow them, and dragged me along for the ride.
"It was the Beagle Boys, and they were stealing an antique model ship for some character who called himself El Capitán. The ship had carvings that apparently led to a sunken treasure. Della and I used the ropework of the old theater they were meeting in to swipe the ship back. Then we booked it back to Uncle Scrooge and told him everything."
"I saw an opportunity for us all to bond, and decided to try and find the treasure together," Scrooge said, "At the same time, Glomgold had made a bet with me. Whoever made the most money from scratch in two weeks wins. The loser eats his hat."
"Two birds, one stone then," Lena said.
"That's the idea. The clues led to a tiny South American country called Ronguay."
The boys snickered.
"Alright, get it out of your system," Scrooge said, rolling his eyes.
"Sure it wasn't the wrong way?" Louie shouted out, before bursting out laughing, followed by his brothers.
"Boo!" Lena shouted back, throwing a dinner roll and beaning Louie on the head.
"Headshot, ten points," Webby piped in.
"Alright, enough of that," Scrooge said, regaining control of the room, "We later learned that El Capitán had contacted Glomgold about the treasure, which had prompted the bet. Old Flintheart decided to sabotage our chances, paying off our pilot so he'd bail out mid-flight and leave us stranded. But even at that age, Della was obsessed with aeronautics. She was too young to learn how to fly for real, but she'd studied books on it anyway, and was able to keep us on course and bring us to a safe landing in Ronguay."
"It was terrifying at the time, but awesome in hindsight," Donald interjected, "When we were older, Della usually served as our pilot on adventures."
"The coordinates led to a cave connected to the ocean, and there was the ship, a large hole in her side from which golden treasure spilled. But the water was rising, and it blocked the entrance we used. The only way out was to sail out. So Donald somehow managed to melt down the gold and use it to patch the hole in the ship! We floated it out with improvised oars!"
"How?" Huey asked, throwing his hands in the air.
"Gold's got a low melting point, so I can see you melting it down easy, but it's also heavy," Louie said, "How'd you get it to float?"
"I'm a sailor," Donald smirked.
"That doesn't answer my question!"
"Don't bother, boys. Della and I both wracked our brains trying to figure it out, but all we got was a headache," Scrooge said.
Donald continued to smile.
"Wasn't an easy ride, though. Glomgold and El Capitán intercepted us, intending to steal the treasure themselves. I thought quickly and managed to turn them on each other. In the chaos, the boat sank, and along with it the treasure. But I managed to keep one of the golden coins, and that meant I technically won the bet!"
"You should have seen the look on Glomgold's face when Uncle Scrooge asked if he wanted mustard with his hat," Donald laughed.
The children laughed.
"Did he actually eat it?" Webby asked.
"Started chomping on it as we sailed his boat back to shore," Donald replied.
"Now as it turned out, that coin I had wasn't unique," Scrooge said, "I found out tales of another man who passed through Ronguay with one, heading deeper into the continent. So we packed our bags and went out looking, this time with a more reliable pilot, Thaddeus McQuack."
"Any relation to Launchpad?" asked Dewey.
"His father, actually," Mrs. Beakley spoke up, "One of the reasons for Launchpad's hiring was as a favor to an old friend."
"We managed to find an isolated mountain tribe, where the man in question, Joaquin Slowly, had used his possession of the coin to trick the superstitious tribe into making him an important priest to their worship of the Golden Sun," Scrooge continued, "The coin he had was a family heirloom, and I was able to trade mine for half of a map to an even bigger treasure. Joaquin tried to betray us, but we escaped."
"I saw what happened as we flew off," Donald said, "He lost both his coins over the side of a cliff. Probably lost his position, too. Karma in my opinion."
"But he did tell us that family legend had the other half of the map hidden away in 'the land of eternal winter' amongst one of the native tribes. Deciding that meant Antarctica, we made a quick supply run and headed there. We found the map, only to be captured by an overzealous penguin tribe. Della managed to slip away, but me, Donald, and Thaddeus were thrown in a prison."
Scrooge started chuckling.
"What happened next was just like your mother. Not only did she use soot to blacken her feathers and coat for a disguise, she also befriended one of the younger penguins, giving the little tyke her purple and blue scarf as a gift. Color was such a rarity down there that little Skittles was fascinated. Della had such a big heart. Next thing we know, the wall of our prison was demolished by a controlled explosion, and Della and Skittles were standing on the other side. They had our gear, stolen from the guard shack, and Della had the biggest manic grin on her face that you could imagine."
"To this day, I still don't know how she improvised an explosive," Donald laughed, "All she did at the time was smile and say 'Della likes big boom.'"
"Kind and crazy clever," Lena chuckled, "I want to be like her when I grow up."
"Me too!" Webby shouted, "She sounds awesome!"
The boys cheered as well.
"My kind of trouble!" Dewey crowed.
"I do wonder how she did it," Huey said ponderously.
Louie just kept laughing.
"We made a break for the plane," Scrooge continued, "Donald and I took care of the guards while Thaddeus and Della prepared for takeoff. We accidently swept Skittles up in our escape, and since we didn't want to land and get potentially captured again, we parachuted her out."
"Rainbow-colored parachute as I recall," Donald said, "She probably loved that."
"So what happened next?" Dewey asked.
"Scrooge got gold fever."
"What?" the children chorused.
"It's a psychosomatic reaction common in treasure hunters," Mrs. Beakley said, "The greed becomes so overpowering that their bodies start to develop physical symptoms. Itchiness, hiccups, that sort of thing. The more dangerous is the loss of perspective. Gold fever sufferers get such obsession for gold that they lose sight of everything around them, including people."
"Which brings me to my original point on too much focus on the prize," Scrooge said, "As we made our way down the Quacka-Whacka River, I got more and more focused on the prize. There were gators and dangerous currents down the river, deadly creatures in the jungle, but I barely noticed them."
"We did," Donald interjected, "I still have a scar on my ankle from where I barely escaped a gator's maw."
"When we got to the Temple of the Golden Suns, resting in a bowl inside a mountain, we found the skeletons of explorers who succumbed to gold fever to such a degree that they made fatal mistakes. We all nearly joined those poor souls. El Capitán technically did."
"He followed you there?" asked Lena.
"Never figured out how. But he was eager to take the treasure for himself, one he'd been hunting for for nearly a hundred years. You see, the more doors were opened in the temple, leading to veritable mountains of gold, the more outer doors closed, sealing away anyone trying to take the gold. We were stuck inside with El Capitán, and he didn't care. That lunatic lowered us down a well in the center of the temple, intending to kill us and take all the gold for himself. Judging from the waves of heat coming from it, we had all thought it led to some kind of magma chamber, that the temple had been built atop a volcano. In actuality, it was a lake of molten gold!"
"It was a real sight," Donald said, taking in the stunned expressions on the children, "And then this lunatic started swinging the bucket around in excitement, screaming about how this was the real treasure of the Golden Suns."
"There was more gold down there than in all the other rooms combined!" Scrooge said defensively.
"That doesn't excuse that you nearly tipped us over into the soup! If El Capitán hadn't heard you whooping it up and got just as greedy, we might have died. He pulled us up and the two of you went at it."
"In the chaos, another trap was set off, and the temple began to collapse. If it weren't for Donald and Della's quick hands, I might have fallen through the collapsing floor into the molten gold below. Thaddeus came in at the last second and air-lifted us all out, just as the Temple of the Golden Suns sank into the earth. Every scrap of gold was buried under a million tons of dirt."
"Nearly losing our lives seemed to snap Scrooge out of it, but El Capitán was so desperate for the gold that he jumped out of the plane, screaming that he'd dig up the gold. We ended up leaving him there, trying to dig into a mountain with his bare hands."
"Yikes," Lena and Webby chorused.
"Hey guys, if I ever get that bad, you're free to smack me," Louie told his brothers.
"Deal," they replied.
The dinner ended soon after, with everyone going their separate ways. The boys especially seemed inspired by the story, chatting about their mother's role in it all.
Later, Dewey dug up the duffel bag he and his brothers had found in Castle McDuck. From it, he extracted a light blue scarf, wrapping it around his neck. He lifted one end and rubbed it against his cheek, closing his eyes and imagining.
"We'll be there soon, Mom…"
oOo
The next day, Mrs. Beakley drove Lena to her appointment. The two sat in the waiting room. Bentina looked up from the magazine she was idly perusing, checking on Lena. The teen was slightly hunched, her hands folded tightly in her lap.
"Nervous?"
"A little," Lena replied.
"Just remember, he's here to help you. Dr. Van Horn is an excellent psychiatrist, and he comes highly recommended."
The door to the waiting room opened, revealing a moose.
"Lena Le Strange?" he asked.
Lena got up out of her seat.
"I'm Dr. Van Horn. Please, right this way."
The doctor's office was about what Lena expected. There was a bookshelf full of psychology books. There was a white board for some people to better express their speech with art, or just for use as a therapy tool. A nice armchair sat opposite a striped sofa, rather than the black leather couch Lena expected.
What took her by surprise was a basket was in one corner, filled with stuffed animals.
"What's with the fluffy zoo?" she asked.
"Sympathetic ears," Dr. Van Horn said, "Some children are more likely to talk to a stuffed animal about certain things, let them serve as a sounding board for things they wouldn't tell others. I've also used them in role play."
The two sat down.
"Now let me start with a statement that you've probably heard before, but it bears repeating. Whatever we discuss in here is held in the strictest confidence. Unless you give me permission to tell your family about certain things, it doesn't leave this room. It's just you, me, and the plush toys in here. What happens on the couch stays on the couch. The only exception is if you tell me or infer that you intend to hurt someone else, or yourself. In which case I have a legal and moral obligation to act."
"That's fair."
"Now, Mr. McDuck and Mrs. Beakley have already given me the broad strokes of your situation, Lena. Odd magic stuff aside, it seems you were in an abusive relationship. Tell me about that…"
Lena took a deep breath and began to talk. She told herself that this would help.
And strangely, it did. She'd already told much of this to Webby, but something about telling the doctor felt a bit liberating.
"I was probably about five or six when Magica first appeared. She told me she was my relative, and that she wanted to help me. I'd already spent a few months in that orphanage, and I was miserable. I missed my mom so badly, and here was this funny shadow lady who told jokes and said she wanted me…"
She described how Magica helped her escape from the orphanage, guiding her as she traveled to an old castle. There was where Magica first taught her magic. It was a wonderous time as Lena learned about what she could do.
And then came the night when Magica told her of the long feud their family had with the Clan McDuck. How bad turns of fate and curses from the De Spells had slowly ground the family into poverty, but how the last son of the clan had risen above to become the richest duck in the world. How Magica fought him to finally end the feud and free her family line from the weight of it all. How it ended with her power stolen and her body reduced to a living shadow.
"And then she told me about a special bond, like one between teacher and pupil. She'd already shown me so much, about my powers and my family history. I thought she cared…but it was all a lie. The second the ritual was done, she crowed about how I belonged to her. All the warmth went away. She never told me she loved me again. It became all about the work, the blood feud, the vengeance. Everything I had come to love turned to darkness and pain. She treated me like dirt, like a tool."
Lena paused, twisting her fingers together.
"The first time I tried to run away, she popped up right behind me while I was a few yards away from the castle. She told me how we were bound together, how I couldn't run away from my own shadow. That was the day she first exerted her control over me. It was like my limbs were being pulled by chains. I was a puppet on a string as she walked me back into the castle. I still tried to run away a week later. This time, instead of marching me back into the castle and leaving it at that, she made me lock myself in a room. She told me that this was my punishment, then fell silent. I spent a week alone in the dark until a crow we'd trained together unlocked the door. From then on, whenever I disobeyed, she'd use her control to make me punish myself. Sometimes it was hitting myself, sometimes it was the room."
She paused again, looking up at the doctor. He gave her a sympathetic look, urging her to go on.
"I've never told anyone this next part…"
"I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to."
"A year after that, I tried to take a knife to my wrist. I was low, I didn't see a way out. I had this thought that I missed my mother. So I decided to try and join her, escape the only way I knew how. Magica stopped me."
Lena clutched her left wrist. Beneath the feathers, invisible unless you knew where to look, was a thin scar.
"She offered me a deal that day. I help her get her power back, and then she'd set me free. I get the dime, and then I'd never have to see her again."
"Thank you for telling me. That was very brave."
"Doesn't feel brave. I tried to kill myself, but failed."
"There's no shame in failing, especially at that. And there's no shame in admitting what you did. What matters is that you don't do it again. Choosing life is always the right choice."
Lena was silent. Dr. Van Horn made a note to come back to the subject at a later date, when Lena felt more comfortable with him to talk about it.
"So what happened next?"
"After a few years, I snuck onto a train bound for Duckburg…"
Lena described living on the streets of Duckburg. How she used her magic to steal food and personal things. How she made up a little room beneath an old amphitheater to live in. How she scouted Scrooge McDuck, trying to figure out how to get at his Number One Dime.
Then they had seen a news report in an electronics store window, of Scrooge bringing family to live with him at his mansion, including three boys.
And that led to meeting Webby.
"For the first time ever, I had a friend. She became my escape. I kept telling Magica that the hanging out and the sleepovers I had with her were about gathering intelligence, playing the long game. Really, I just wanted it to never end. I knew that the second I stole the dime and unleashed Magica, I'd never be forgiven. So I stalled for as long as I could. Until one day, I realized that I cared about Webby. That I wasn't pretending to be her friend, I probably hadn't been since day one. That I valued our friendship more than I thought I did. Magica had this plan with a shark-shaped golem, and I wrecked it so save Webby. Magica was furious. I tried to walk away, but she dragged me back. But for the first time in a long time, I had something besides that witch in my life, and I never wanted to lose that. I wanted to fight for it, fight for her."
Then Lena spoke of the Nightmare Catcher, tearing up as she did so. But she powered through, talking about how she fully realized in that moment how far she would go for Webby, that letting it end on Magica's terms was something she could not bear. How when she was about to throw away the shadow of the blood feud, there came the final possession, the sick feeling of Magica's essence invading her body. She spoke of Magica walking them into a trap that ripped them apart. Of Lena being free of her after years of torment.
Dr. Van Horn asked a few more questions after that. About her home life now, about what she enjoyed. About Webby, who Lena described as loving like the sister she always wanted.
"Light of my life, that girl. If I'd never met her, I don't think I would have ever recovered."
A few more questions were asked, but finally, the doctor claimed that their session was nearly at an end.
"Until we meet again, I want you to do a few things."
He gave her a few mental exercises to try out. Little things like repeating to herself that she was worth it, that her past did not define her, and that she was not responsible for anything Magica did.
"You never were, you never will be."
He also encouraged her to keep up with magic, saying that it might prove therapeutic considering her thoughts on it.
"Some people use art to calm their anxieties. Some use writing. Given that promise you claim to have made to be better than her, I believe that researching and practicing magic will be beneficial to your mental health."
"I'd thought of that," Lena replied.
As they left, Lena voiced the opinion that the doctor was a lot more blunt than she thought he'd be.
"I figured you'd be one of those 'Doctor Feel Good' types of guys."
"There are plenty of those in my profession. Me, I'm of the opinion that there's no reason anyone should walk a mile barefoot on Legos when so many problems could be solved by just sitting down and talking. That's my opinion on most psychological issues…and war, but that's a different story. You could go through all the rigamarole and 'drama' of deep dark secrets, or you can go and do what you were going to have to do from the beginning: sit down and talk."
Lena left the office with a laugh. She felt strung out, but there was a confidence in her. She thought this might actually work.
oOo
Scrooge entered an old bunker, settling himself before the necessary equipment. He fought down the bitter feeling in his throat and the wetness in his eyes as he remembered the last time he'd sat in this chair.
When Project Selene was dismantled, most of the assets were sold to recoup some losses. He'd discreetly contacted several of those buyers and explained the situation. Most of them were sympathetic, and with Scrooge putting up some of the costs himself, work was started to build another rocket.
But before construction would start, Scrooge wanted to beam up one more message…
"It's ready, Mr. McDuck," said one of the techs, "Just hold down the button and we can record it, then fire it off in the direction you provided."
"Thank you for this," Scrooge said, his voice thick.
Scrooge took a deep breath to steady himself, then began to record.
"Della, it's Scrooge. It took us a long time to find you, but we can explain why later. Just know that we're coming…your uncle's coming, Spitfire. So's your brother…and your sons. We're coming for you, just hold tight a little longer…"
oOo
"…and your sons. We're coming for you, just hold tight a little longer…"
The duck put her hand to her beak, trying in vain to hold back the sobs working their way up her throat.
"Sons…"
She reached up to lift her goggles out of her eyes, preventing them from getting wet as tears came forth.
"They were boys…"
Della Duck leaned back against the metal wall behind her, letting herself go. She slumped to the ground, tears streaming down her face and relieved sobs wracking her frame.
"I'm going home…I'm going to see my boys…"
Lena's a fan of Voltaire. Because.
Also, if Scrooge and Donald's story seems familiar, it's because it's basically the first five episodes of the original Ducktales show. I changed a few details so that instead of the boys and Webby, it was Donald and Della.
Also also, Dr. Van Horn is named after William Van Horn, an artist/writer who has worked on Uncle Scrooge comics since 1988. Naming the doctor after Carl Barks or Don Rosa seemed a bit too on the nose.
Also also also, HI DELLA! SEE YOU IN A FEW CHAPTERS!