Donald whimpered slightly and fidgeted slightly to try to find himself a more comfortable. Just that little movement made his back flare up in pain. Leopold, the huge flying creature that worked for the evil staff, saw Donald's shifting as an escape attempt, so he tightened his grip on the poor boy.
"H-hey." Donald whined as Leopold's claws dug into his back even more than they already had. He knew that Leopold wasn't trying to hurt him. The creature may be evil, but he wasn't exactly cruel. Leopold just did what he was told, and all he had been told to do was make sure that Donald didn't escape the way that Panchito did.
Being held down by Leopold was really uncomfortable, and a little painful, but at least Donald wasn't being punished or tortured...yet. He was pretty sure that the real pain was coming, just as soon as Sheldgoose came back from looking for Panchito.
Donald hoped that his friend had been able to get enough of a headstart on Sheldgoose to be able to get to Duckburg. Donald knew that if Panchito could just tell Uncle Scrooge where he was, that this whole nightmare would be over. Donald knew that his Uncle would save him, no matter the cost, he just hoped that it would happen before anything really bad actually happened.
Donald had an unlucky streak and he frequently got captured, hurt, or otherwise bruised up during adventures. Despite this though, he hadn't been hurt any worse than a sprained ankle that had taken a week to heal, and Donald really didn't want to know just how much more a worse injury would hurt.
Donald was just starting to adjust to his new position when he heard the secret entrance from Sheldgoose's study open above them. Donald couldn't help but hold his breath as he looked up and waited as he heard someone coming down the stairs. His position made it impossible to see who was coming down, but Donald didn't have very high hopes for who it was. After a very long minute that felt like an eternity Donald saw Sheldgoose coming into the room, and he wasn't alone.
"Panchito!" Donald began to squirm again as he felt an overwhelming feeling of horror and anger build up inside of him at the state that his friend was in. "What did you do to him?!" Panchito was completely limp, and when Donald saw that Sheldgoose was holding the young rooster up with what looked like a chain he was pretty sure he knew why his friend was so still. Sheldgoose was suffocating him! "Let him go!"
"Now, why should I do that?" Sheldgoose's tone was dangerous. It sounded like he was trying to stay in control, but he wasn't doing very good at it. Donald usually found Sheldgoose's desperation for control really funny, and sometimes tried to get a rise out of him just for the fun of it. When Sheldgoose had this grip on Panchito, suddenly his out of control mood was no longer a laughing matter.
"You're killing him!" Donald felt tears gather in his eyes as Sheldgoose tightened his grip on the chain. Donald closed his eyes so he didn't have to see the necklace dig into Panchito's neck. "We'll behave, I promise." Donald meant his words. It wasn't worth it to risk another escape attempt that would likely fail, not if this was the punishment. "Please, just let him go."
Donald kept his eyes closed as there was silence for a few moments. Finally Sheldgoose sighed and said, "Leopold." Donald stiffened at the creature's name, but relaxed when the pressure on his back disappeared. Donald cautiously cracked his eyes open just in time to see Sheldgoose harshly throw Panchito to the ground.
"Panchito!" Donald scampered to his friend's side. He barely noticed that Sheldgoose and Leopold were leaving the lair. He vaguely heard Sheldgoose say something about having Lord Felldrake deal with them later, but he really didn't care at that moment. All Donald cared about was making sure his friend was okay.
Donald turned Panchito over so that he was lying on his back. He hoped that this would help his friend breath better. Being choked by a necklace couldn't be good for one's breath. Donald didn't know how to do CPR, or if it was even needed, but he hoped that that Panchito would be alright anyways.
With Panchito lying on his back, Donald's gaze was drawn to the necklace around his neck. Donald wanted to take that stupid necklace off, but he froze when he took a good look at it. He knew that necklace. It looked so much like Donald's own necklace, except it was a red triangle, and the chain looked more golden than the bronze chain of Donald's own necklace. There were a lot of differences, but they just felt incredibly similar. This necklace was the brother to Donald's amulet.
Donald couldn't take his eyes off of the amulet. Even if it didn't remind him of his own amulet, Donald would have recognized it. Great-Grandpa Coot had three amulets that he claimed belonged to the Three Caballeros. He had given Donald one of the amulets, but had kept the other two hidden. Great-Grandpa Coot claimed that the other two amulets belonged to the other two caballeros, so Donald didn't have a problem with Panchito having the amulet itself, but what was nagging at the back of his mind was where did Panchito get the amulet in the first place?
Panchito groaned and seemed to be waking up. Donald frowned and backed up to give his friend room. It took some time, but Panchito eventually became aware of his surroundings. "¿Q-que pasó?"
Donald was relieved that Panchito was okay, but from the moment that Panchito had been brought back here, Donald had been feeling primarily two emotions, anger and concern. Now that he saw that Panchito wasn't too hurt, his anger took complete control, like it frequently did.
"What the heck happened?" Donald asked in a tone that was much harsher than he intended. "You were supposed to go to Duckburg and find my Uncle Scrooge. Did you even try?"
"Uh, no," Panchito sat up and winced as he brought his fingers to gently feel at his neck. "I-I got lost."
That much was clear. It was annoying, but that wasn't what really got under Donald's skin. "Where did you get that amulet?"
Panchito flinched and looked cautiously down at the red amulet around his neck, like he was worried that it was going to attack him. "Un pato viejo-"
"Speak English!" Donald snapped as he felt his face beginning to heat up.
"Lo siento, ah, sorry." Panchito apologized quickly. "A-an old duck g-gave it to me." Donald had experienced lightheadedness caused by a lack of breath. He knew how hard it was to focus in that state. If Donald was calm, he would be impressed by Panchito's English, especially when he was probably feeling really unwell, but he was far too flustered and angry for that.
"You mean the old duck that lives next door?" Donald asked, though he was fairly certain that he knew the answer.
"Um, sí." Panchito fidgeted his fingers. He looked really sheepish and embarrassed. "I tried to get far, but I got lost and kind of went in circles." Donald swore that only Panchito would try so hard to get away from somebody, and just end up closer to them than before.
Donald's face scrunched up in frustration, and he knew that he was about to completely lose it. "That old duck is my great-grandpa." Donald growled.
Panchito frowned slightly in confusion. "But, you told me your bisabuelo lived alone."
Donald felt shocked and cautious about Panchito's words meant. "He wasn't alone?"
Panchito shook his head. "No, there was a duck with a funny accent that I couldn't understand, and a little girl that actually looked a lot like you."
Donald felt his breath get caught in his throat. Della and Uncle Scrooge. Panchito had met Donald's family, and he hadn't even noticed. That could have been the key to getting out of here, and Panchito had just screwed everything up. He had ruined everything!
"You...you didn't…" Donald clenched his hands into fists. He felt physically sick.
Panchito frowned slightly." Donald, are you okay?" The rooster put a hand on Donald's arm, but Donald just slapped his hand away.
"No, I'm not okay!" Donald shouted. "That was my family, and you didn't...you just...ugh!" Donald shouted in pain filled frustration. "We could have gotten out of here if you'd just told them where we were! How could you be so stupid?"
The two of them fell into an uncomfortable silence. The only sound heard was Donald's harsh breathing as he tried to get over his frustration. Panchito didn't say a word, and if Donald was in his right mind he would have realized just how much of a problem that was. Panchito wasn't a silent kid. He was always talking rapidly in Spanish, or singing one of those ridiculous songs of his, and yet here he was not saying a word.
Donald didn't necessarily want Panchito to speak, but his silence was just frustrating him even more. Deep down Donald felt bad for getting mad, he always did, but those feelings were still buried so deeply beneath his anger that there was no way that he would listen to his conscience, not yet. The best that Donald could do at that moment was to just walk off before he gave in to the urge to hit something, because as furious as Donald was at Panchito, he knew that he would never be able to forgive himself if he hurt him.
Uncle Scrooge had been trying to encourage Donald to either use his anger to his advantage, or take himself out of the situation that was making him angry until he was able to calm down. Donald didn't know how he was supposed to use his anger in this scenario, as there was nobody around to fight, so he went for the second option and just stormed off to the other side of the room so he could have some space.
Panchito didn't call out for Donald to wait. He didn't even reach for Donald's arm in an attempt to stop him and ask what was wrong. Panchito just let him go.
Donald frowned as he sat down on the ground near the door that he usually avoided at all costs. He still didn't know what was in there, and he didn't think he ever wanted to know, but this end of the room was the furthest he could get from Panchito. Donald turned so his back was on his friend and drew his legs close to his chest.
Donald buried his head in his knees and shut his eyes tight in a vain attempt to keep those stupid tears from coming back again. It wasn't going very well. Donald thought he heard a short sob, but it happened and was gone so quickly that Donald honestly didn't know if the sound had come from him, Panchito, or if he had just imagined it.
As Donald's tears finally escaped and wet his cheeks he wondered what the difference was. What did it matter which one of them was crying, if either of them? He didn't need tears to tell him that he was devastated. After all, they had finally gotten the chance to escape from this place. Donald hadn't even been able to leave the room, and Panchito really hadn't done much better.
Donald was beginning to worry that neither of them were ever going to get out of there. Clearly they couldn't save themselves, they couldn't save each other, and Donald had no reason to believe that anybody was going to find them here.
They were on their own.
Della drew her legs close and glared as Great-Grandpa Coot ran around packing bags and suitcases. He was planning on going on another one of those trips of his, even though he had just gotten back from one. Della understood the need to be productive, as she felt the same way. After all, this was now the second time that a little boy had gone missing right under their noses.
First Donald, and now Panchito. Della was starting to consider stealing an anti-sleep potion from Uncle Scrooge. Things just kept on happening in this cabana while she was fast asleep, and she really didn't want to be caught off guard anymore.
Great-Grandpa Coot also seemed interested in stopping bad things from happening, though he was taking a different approach. Della didn't usually understand things that grown-ups did, but even Uncle Scrooge didn't understand Great-Grandpa Coot's reasoning.
"Would you mind running by me again why you think it necessary to travel to Brazil of all places?" Uncle Scrooge crossed his arms and raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Della had seen this exact look make the strongest of men waiver, but Great-Grandpa Coot barely took notice of him.
"I told you, I need to find the third caballero before he gets taken too." Great-Grandpa Coot said as he stuffed a dozen books in his suitcase and struggled to close it. "If the one that I suspect truly is behind Donald and Panchito's disappearances, then it is in all our best interest that the fiend doesn't get his hand on the last boy as well, or his amulet." At this, Great-Grandpa Coot held up a square green necklace with a silver chain.
"I don't care if this Felldrake fellow was the one that took the boys or not." Uncle Scrooge said, and Della found herself nodding in agreement. The only reason why she would care who took her brother was if the information would make it easier to find him, and make it so that she knew who deserved to be punished for the crime. "But even if he did, are you honestly going to give up on finding the lads just so you can go on adventure to find another boy you can put in danger?"
"That's not what I'm doing!" Great-Grandpa Coot said, and he sounded so hurt and insulted at the accusation that Della felt a little bad for agreeing with her uncle. Not bad enough that she was about to change her mind, but still bad. "The thing you must understand about these amulets is that when they're in possession of their caballero, they can actually lead the boys to each other."
"So the amulets are drawn to each other." Uncle Scrooge didn't look happy about this new information, and Della understood why. Uncle Scrooge hated magic of all kinds, and supernatural amulet magnets/compasses definitely fell into that category.
"But only if the boys have them." Great-Grandpa Coot clarified. "But essentially, yes."
"So if we give this amulet to whoever, they can lead us to Donald or Pancho?" Della was really beginning to like this idea.
Scrooge didn't look nearly as convinced. "Or we'll make it possible for the kidnapper to be lead right to this poor boy." Right. Della hadn't thought that the magical magnetic connection worked both ways.
"Well, yes, of course that's a possibility." Great-Grandpa Coot admitted. "But our foe has already made it clear that he can find these boys even without help from their amulets."
"Eh, true." Uncle Scrooge agreed reluctantly.
"And if we can find Donald and Panch, then don't you think the risk will be worth it?" Della asked. She was really starting to side with Great-Grandpa Coot here. They would never be able to find the missing boys if they decided to play it safe.
"Aye, you've got a point." Uncle Scrooge sighed. "Alrighty then, when do we leave?"
Della grinned excitedly. She knew exactly what he meant when he said 'we'. Della and Scrooge were going to be joining Great-Grandpa Coot on his trip to South America. Della was always excited to go on new adventures, but this one just might lead to her getting her brother back.
Della hoped that those Brazilians were ready, because they were on their way.
A/N: It's kind of really hard to write Donald getting mad and losing his temper without writing him as a complete and total jerk. I think I did it okay though. I mean, he's a scared little kid, I think he can be allowed to get angry every once and awhile.
Starting next chapter, I promise I'm going to start being nicer to Panchito. He's just been having a really hard time lately.
