Dewey slowly opened his eyes, groaning as he became aware of the throbbing in his head. Where...was he? Dewey shut his eyes and slowly opened them again, hoping that would help his vision clear. It didn't. The world remained fuzzy and dim, and he still didn't have any idea of where he was.

He put his hand to his head again, trying to alleviate the pain. He needed some Advil, and maybe an ice pack. But something...didn't quite feel right. Dewey's thoughts felt sluggish as he looked at his fingers. They were covered in something dark and warm...kinda wet…

Oh.

That definitely wasn't good.

"Dewey! Dewey, lad, can you hear me!" came a muffled Scottish brogue.

"Uncle Scrooge?" Dewey said slowly. "Where-where are you?"

"Dewey! Are you there?"

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm here!" Dewey said, promptly wincing at the loudness of his own voice.

"Good! There was a bit of a cave-in, but we'll get you get you out of there soon!" Scrooge said.

"O-ok!" Dewey said. Then there was some quacking that sounded like it was probably Uncle Donald, but Dewey couldn't understand any words. That either meant that Uncle Donald was really angry, or Dewey had hit his head so hard he couldn't understand him anymore, which...well, other people often complained that they had a hard time understanding Uncle Donald, but Dewey and his brothers never had ,so that...that wouldn't be good. Life would be much harder if he couldn't understand his uncle.

"If anything's happened to him, Scrooge, I swear, I'll-"

Oh, good. That was Uncle Donald, and those were words, so Dewey hadn't lost his ability to understand Uncle Donald after all.

Some more muffled talking that Dewey didn't have the energy or focus to decipher, and then a whole bunch of clunk, clunk, clunk. Dewey rested his head on the wall and closed his eyes, trying to ease his aching head.

Wait. Uncle Scrooge had said something about a cave-in. Dewey didn't remember being in a cave. Actually, Dewey didn't remember much of anything before waking up in the dark. He hadn't really thought about it yet. But maybe...maybe not thinking about it was a good idea. The thought of thinking that hard made his head hurt.

But...if there was a cave-in...were Huey and Louie ok? He'd heard Uncle Scrooge and Uncle Donald, so they were probably ok. They sounded ok, at least. But were Huey and Louie trapped somewhere, too? Or...worse? And Webby...had Webby even been with them on this adventure? Dewey had no idea.

You know what? Forget all of this. If Huey and Louie and Webby were in danger, Dewey certainly couldn't help them. And for the sake of his head, it was better not to worry about it.

The clunk, clunk, clunk got closer and less muffled-but at the same time, separated by Dewey's eyelids, they still felt far away.

"Dewey!" cried Uncle Donald's familiar voice.

Dewey cracked open his eyes and immediately shielded them from the bright light pouring in from the giant hole in the wall. A dark Uncle-Donald-shaped shape rushed over to Dewey and knelt in front of him.

"Are you ok?" Donald asked, inspecting the cut on Dewey's head.

"Can we go home, Unca Donald?" Dewey asked, holding out his arms.

Donald scooped him up. "Of course, Dewey," he said, carrying him out of the cave. Dewey buried his head in his uncle's shoulder to block out the light and missed the glare Donald gave Scrooge as he walked past.

"Are Huey and Louie ok?" Dewey mumbled.

"Yes, they're fine. They're back at the plane with Launchpad and Webby," Donald said.

"Good," Dewey said, his body finally relaxing. He allowed himself to be swept away by the darkness and quiet as he fell fast asleep.

Author's Note: The wonderful Schnickledooger was inspired to continue this story over on AO3 to fill in some of the gaps about what happened before and after the cave-in, so go check it out! achiveofourown works / 12461136