After five times, Magica was finally satiated. She was going to walk strangely for a few days if she didn't heal herself, but it was totally worth it. Besides, she'd used her magic to ensure Gladstone could keep going. That was more important than healing herself.
She sighed, curled up against Gladstone on the couch. Seeing as he was asleep, she permitted herself the luxury of letting her guard down. He really was quite attractive and he made her heart skip beats. True, her whole lower body was tingling from his ministrations and she kissed him on the beak again.
She could admit to herself that she might have feelings for him. Whether she admitted it to him was another story, but she might if she allowed herself to explore the feelings she had, grow to love him in time. She remembered what Lena had said, about her not having enough light in her to love anyone, and sighed. If she permitted herself to love Gladstone, then she had to do something about her niece. She couldn't leave her in the company of pedophiles.
But she was tired and basking in the afterglow of sex. She didn't want to move. Damn it, Gladstone was so good. His luck also meant that he hit the right spots every time. She nuzzled him and kissed him on the cheek.
She'd thrown her dress somewhere and groaned when her phone within it buzzed. Oh, c'mon. She was basking. Post-coital bliss was so good. Whatever it was could wait. Unless someone was dying and she was missing out, she didn't want to know.
Gladstone nuzzled her back and she started, surprised.
"You're awake?" she said.
"Mmm…" he said, sounding like he was, at best, half-awake. He kissed her on the cheek and she blushed. After what they'd done, blushing over something so innocent was ridiculous, but it showed more affection than she thought having sex had done. She turned over to snuggle against him.
"Your phone's ringing…" Gladstone murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "Shut it off…"
She waved her hand and smashed the phone to pieces with a nearby lamp with her magic. Problem solved.
Closing her eyes, she cuddled in his arms. She was so comfortable. The world could be going to pieces, but everything was all right here. The only thing that would make it better would be having Scrooge's number one dime. But, hey, beggars can't be choosers.
And amazing sex five times in one day almost beat out the dime. Almost.
Lena was floating somewhere; the painkillers were wonderful. It was like getting high, except without the fear of getting caught. Well, that and without Magica's recrimination on getting high in the first place. She'd only done it a few times. Get over it, Aunt Magica. And she'd only done pot, nothing serious.
But this was better. She was no longer crying from the strain and her arms were back in their sockets. The only thing that would've made this better would be if Webby were here. She had no idea what Gizmoduck had sent to the spaceship, although she didn't have it in her to be annoyed with him right now. She was too content to drift on this lovely high.
She didn't know how Magica had any ground to stand on regarding her prior drug use. She'd been a homeless, troubled teenager who was bored, lonely, and desperate to gain approval. After the high had faded, though, she'd been twice as miserable.
She'd never told Webby this. Webby wouldn't approve and she was afraid that the rest of the McDuck family would think she shouldn't be around her. Lena choked back a giggle that sounded hysterical to her own ears. Mrs. Beakley definitely wouldn't have said she was a good kid after that.
Then she'd killed her. The laughter died. True, it'd been Magica wielding her body, but she'd done so much damage with Magica possessing her. That was enough to harsh her buzz. She rolled over as best she could, considering her arms were in casts, and felt horribly alone again. Everything was her fault and Webby had every right to dump her after this.
She didn't have any pain, but she also wasn't happy anymore. Sometime during her recent unconsciousness, she'd lost Webby's bow. She groaned. What did that say about her, that she kept losing things of Webby's? She wasn't trustworthy, was she?
Speaking of lost time, she didn't know what day it was or when the others were returning. Would they know she was here? Had the Bloodhound Gang escaped during that time? Was she the reason they had? Would Scrooge have had more luck if she hadn't shoved her beak where it didn't belong?
When she fell back asleep, her dreams were heavy and burdensome, full of portents and remorse over what had befallen her best friend.
After the trouble they'd gone through to get Della, the ride back was surprisingly uneventful. Louie remained suspicious of his mother, Huey and Dewey were trying to balance their badgering their mother with Webby's reluctance to speak, and Webby was usually hiding out in the cabin. They hadn't heard anything further from Gizmoduck regarding Lena, but Gizmoduck had accomplished something Scrooge had been attempting to do for over a month.
He'd captured the Bloodhound Gang, what was left of it. They were in jail right now awaiting Scrooge's judgment. With Della back at his side and vengeance within his grasp, Scrooge was in a pleasant, albeit somewhat dark, mood. The Bloodhound Gang would stand trial for rape, but Scrooge wanted a crack at them first. One of them was in the hospital with a broken kneecap, courtesy of Lena.
When they arrived back in Duckberg, Donald helped Della move back in, though she didn't really have any belongings to worry about. Scrooge went straight to the jail to deal with the Bloodhound Gang and Webby rushed to the hospital. Lena was still in ICU with two dislocated shoulders and Webby nearly crashed into a nurse in her haste to reach her.
She skipped into the room and found Lena sitting by herself and attempting to turn on the TV with both arms in casts. Lena turned her head when she saw Webby.
"Hey," she said and offered her a tiny smile. "So. I didn't expect to see you here."
Webby bounded over to her and hugged her. She had to be careful, however, not to jostle anything sensitive. She rested her head on her chest briefly and beamed at her.
"Why wouldn't I come?" she asked. "I was worried about you!"
"I tried to apprehend the Bloodhound Gang for you," Lena replied. "It didn't go as expected."
"Did they hurt you?" Webby asked. "Is that why your arms in casts?"
"No, that was Magica," Lena said and her expression darkened. "She had me stuck to the ceiling and then when I could barely balance, she kicked my feet out from under me and pulled my arms out of their sockets."
"But the Bloodhound Gang didn't hurt you, right?" Webby pressed and scanned her friend's body as if she could tell just by looking whether they'd assaulted her. Her stomach heaved and she hugged her tighter. She scrambled up onto the bed so she could curl up against her.
"They got handsy, but that was about it," she reassured her. She frowned. "I didn't mean to make you freak out. You have enough on your plate."
Webby leaned in and pecked Lena on the cheek. "I'm just glad you're okay."
She glanced at her and then blushed. "Well...you're not 'okay'. But you're not, you know…"
"I know," she reassured her.
"I thought you'd left town," Webby confessed. "Uncle Scrooge thought you might've wanted to get hurt, that you were reckless."
"I wanted to help you," she said and her expression darkened. "I wanted to make up for what I'd let happen."
"It wasn't your fault," Webby said. "None of it was. Don't blame yourself."
"You don't get it," she said, shaking her head. "I…"
She stopped herself.
"You what?" Webby asked with a frown. She nuzzled her and since Lena couldn't bring her arms in to hug her, she hugged her extra tight. Unable to resist, she raised herself and kissed her on the beak. She'd been so worried and even though Lena was injured, she was okay. She hadn't tried to flee.
"It's not important," Lena said and then, perhaps to take the sting out of it, she leaned forward and kissed her back. Webby sensed some tentativeness and frowned, pulling away. Something was wrong.
"I thought we agreed after we defeated Magica that we wouldn't keep any more secrets from each other," Webby said.
Lena frowned and turned her head away. "I told you-it's not important."
"It is important," she pressed and sat back on her knees. "I thought we were best friends. Or more than that. You promised you'd tell me if it was a big secret, Lena."
"It's not a big deal," she repeated.
"If it's not a big deal, then why won't you tell me?" she countered.
"You're going to get upset with me," she said and rolled her eyes. "It's nothing."
Webby felt like shaking her, but knew that jostling her in her condition would probably exacerbate her injuries. Why was Lena being deliberately obtuse? And how was she supposed to know what would upset her when she wouldn't tell her?
"It's not 'nothing'," Webby returned. "The more you keep it from me, the more I want to know."
"You have to promise not to get mad at me," Lena cautioned.
"What is it already?" Webby demanded.
"I thought, with the way I led you into danger and then caused you to get hurt and lose your grandmother, maybe I…"
"Maybe you what?" Webby asked, confused by Lena's train of thought.
"Deserved it," she finished in a whisper.
"What on earth would make you think you deserved it?" Webby exclaimed. "You didn't deserve anything that happened to you."
Lena shrugged. "After you spend your life being shat on, you kinda just accept that you must've done something to merit it. So, here I am. With two dislocated shoulders. I must've done something."
"Magica did all of that to you," she protested. "You didn't do any of it. Why would you blame yourself?"
"Webby…" Lena said and tried to straighten up. "You had a loving grandmother who cared about you and raised you to defend yourself and tried to protect you the best she could. I had Aunt Magica. I could never do anything right in her eyes. So I internalized it."
She shrugged and then winced in pain. "You're so lucky. You have a family who cares about you and wants the best for you."
"You could have that too," Webby replied. "You could live with us and we'd take care of you too. And you wouldn't have to be so reckless.
"Gizmoduck caught the Bloodhound Gang, by the way."
Lena's beak quirked. "Great. I'm a damsel in distress."
Webby cupped Lena's face in her hands. "You helped. If he hadn't had to rescue you, he wouldn't have been to subdue them and bring them in. And you did break one of their kneecaps."
"Go me," Lena said and rolled her eyes. "I lost your ribbon."
"I'll get another one," Webby replied and curled up against her again. She stroked her face and kissed her on the beak again. "I love you."
Lena managed a small smile and Webby nuzzled her. She didn't understand how Lena could hate herself when she was so incredible. Why didn't Lena see herself like Webby did? She'd endured so much and finally stepped out of Magica's shadow to become her true self. The older duck was so strong.
"I'll love you even when you don't love yourself," she promised.
"That's a pretty tall order," Lena said and rolled her eyes again. Webby kissed her cheek and played with her hair.
Webby, lying on her side, kissed Lena on the beak again. Lena didn't pull back this time and her arms twitched like she wanted to hold her.
"One more thing-we came back to Duckberg and found Magica and Gladstone in the mansion," Webby said. "Uncle Scrooge was pretty upset...especially since they were both, you know…"
She blushed and Lena groaned.
"Instead of helping me, he got laid," Lena said. "If I could facepalm, I would. Then again, he's supposed to be the luckiest duck in the universe. So I guess...ugh. I do not want to think about that."
"Wait, Gladstone was supposed to help you out?"
"He was supposed to talk Magica into rescuing me," Lena said. "See how well that worked out."
Webby, wishing she could think of something better to comfort her, continued stroking Lena's hair. It was oddly soothing and the tension she'd felt on the spaceship seemed to evaporate. Maybe she could talk to Lena. She hadn't been able to really speak with the boys. That reminded her…
She bolted upright again. "When you say they got 'handsy', what do you mean?"
"Webby, I'm all right," she said. "They didn't touch anything besides my thighs and my stomach."
She smiled weakly. "Are you defending my honor?"
"Someone has to," she countered and Lena chuckled. Lena turned as best she could and nuzzled Webby right back. Warmth blossomed in Webby's chest and they rubbed beaks.
"You're my knight in shining armor, huh?" Lena teased.
"You said you were a damsel in distress," Webby replied. "Or maybe you're the princess stuck in the tower and Magica's the dragon."
"Does that make Gladstone Donkey?" she asked and Webby stared at her blankly. "Wow. You haven't seen Shrek. What a sheltered life you led."
"I'm not sheltered now," she reminded her and felt somber. Lena groaned.
"I can't hug you thanks to Magica," she complained. "Just pretend I'm holding you, okay?"
Webby rubbed their beaks together again and Lena smiled softly.
"How long are you staying?" Lena asked.
"Uh, until Launchpad comes back from the jail," Webby answered. "Not sure how long that's going to take. I guess it depends on how angry Uncle Scrooge is."
"You'd better settle in," she advised. "And turn the TV on. Scrooge is gonna be a while."
Barring the last Bloodhound Gang member that Lena had dubbed "Mr. Squeakers" who was in the hospital, the Gang was there, all two of them. Scrooge paced in front of them; he was so angry that his throat had closed up and his thoughts raced. It turned out that the Gang had a rap sheet. Petty larceny, arson, nothing major, up until they'd started chasing little girls. Webby wasn't the first they'd attacked, but she was the first big mistake they'd made. No one else had the money and resources to make their lives miserable like Scrooge McDuck.
"Aren't you going to say something?" the bulldog with a mustache demanded. Scrooge knew that the leader, the one who attacked Webby, had died by her hands. He also knew that the remaining members had tried to molest Lena. His sympathy, if he'd had any, was gone.
"You abused my niece and you expect me to, what? Exchange social niceties with you?" Scrooge snapped. "You have no idea what you've done, do you?"
"Technically, the guy who did that is dead, so you could just let us go…" the bulldog with the mustache said. "We didn't do anything to your niece."
"Silence!" Scrooge snarled and slammed his cane through the bars. It connected with the mustached bulldog and hit him square in the center of the forehead. "Over my dead body are you leaving custody unless it's in a body bag."
"But we didn't rape her," the other bulldog protested. He was whining and Scrooge spun around to deliver a blow that left the bars ringing. Given the narrow maneuverability, he only managed to poke the dog's nose. It was fairly hard, though, and blood gushed from the nasal cavity Scrooge had hit with the hooked part of his cane.
"You held her down," Scrooge snapped. "And I didn't come here to listen to your stupid excuses."
"Then why are you here?" the bleeding bulldog asked, although it was difficult to figure out what he was saying beyond the nose bleed. Blood dripped down his chin and Scrooge was darkly amused. If he weren't a good person, he might've wanted to kill them himself. The temptation was there, but they were in police custody. Gizmoduck had brought them here himself. The DPD wouldn't appreciate him murdering their criminals, regardless of how much they deserved it.
It wouldn't have been the first time he'd been responsible for someone's death. The knowledge and rage built within him and he wished he could ask someone to unlock the cell so he could personally deliver their vengeance. He trembled in fury.
"I'm here because I had to see you in person," he bit off. "And to warn you that if you somehow, by some miracle, make bail and try to flee Duckberg, I will track you down personally and a court appearance will be the least of your troubles."
"What are you saying?" the other bulldog protested.
Scrooge yanked him closer with his cane and whispered, too low for the camera to catch, "I will kill you myself."
"And we're supposed to believe that? You're an old man," he sneered.
Okay, forget being circumspect. He could always pay off the police if they had a problem with this. Besides, they'd left him alone with the keys. It was almost like they had intended for this to happen.
He unlocked the cell and the gruff gang member sneered. "That's what I thought."
His gruffness only lasted as long as it took Scrooge to aim his cane between his legs so hard that he might've squished something. The other gang member retreated, but there was nowhere for him to go. Scrooge had carried a metal cane on purpose today. He laid into them until he was satisfied; they were a bleeding, broken mess and he locked the door behind him.
"Gentlemen," he sneered as he left.
Groans issued in response.
Snorting, Scrooge told the jailer to mention that the Bloodhound Gang had had an "accident" and greased a few palms to ensure that was the official story. He walked briskly out the door and toward the limo. Launchpad was staring at him with his beak agape.
"What?" Scrooge demanded.
"You, uh, you have blood on your face. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he said brusquely. "It's not mine."
"It's not yours? Then whose is it? What happened in there? Are you hurt?"
"I'm not the one who's hurt," he said darkly. "Do I pay you to ask questions? No? Then we need to get to the hospital and pick up Webby."
"O-kay…" Launchpad said. "I was just concerned because, you know, you don't usually have blood on your feathers…"
He also didn't normally beat the shit out of people with his cane. Discreetly, he grabbed a cloth near the mini bar and wiped off his cane. Webby didn't need to see that. He also wiped off his face and stared at his reflection. He still looked savage; she didn't need to know what he'd done either. The last thing she needed was to find out her uncle had a dark side.
He only regretted that Webby had killed their leader before he had a chance to strangle the brute himself. However, if anyone should've killed him, it was her. Someone that age, though, with her first kill...it did things to the mind. Lena seemed to be a stabilizing influence, thankfully. When she was recovered enough to leave the hospital, he'd need to bring her home with him too. Webby could use her around the mansion.
Before that, however, he needed to have a serious conversation with Gladstone. And burn that couch. The boys had already noticed it and he'd ordered Launchpad to remove it from the premises. It reeked and rankled him. Magica and Gladstone had definitely broken it in.
If he'd been in a better mood, it might've reminded him of his escapades with Goldie. But he wasn't and it didn't. If Gladstone wanted to consort with their enemies, then he could do it outside McDuck Manor. Scrooge ground his teeth. He wanted to throttle his nephew.
Either Launchpad's driving was getting better or he was determined not to irritate Scrooge because they didn't crash more than twice en route. He rolled his eyes at Launchpad parking in a fire zone and made his way toward Webby and Lena. When he reached Lena's room, he found Webby hugging her tightly while they made fun of a BBC show. He was reluctant to separate them; Webby was smiling and snuggling against Lena.
"It's time to go home, lass," Scrooge called and Webby groaned. Lena's eyes widened when she turned her head.
"You have blood on your top hat," she informed him.
Scrooge cursed inwardly. "Uh, must've forgotten to wash it after I hit Glomgold back on the moon."
"Uh huh," Lena said, raising her eyebrows. "Sure."
Webby frowned, clearly debating whether she ought to ask further or let the matter lie.
"Can we bring Lena home?" she asked instead.
"When they release her," he said. He stroked Webby's feathers affectionately. Lena rolled her eyes; families were a sore spot with her. To make Lena feel better, he touched the pink lock of her hair.
"What are you doing?" Lena asked, flinching at the touch.
"I'm not going to hurt you, lass," he said. "I wanted to ask if you wanted to live at the mansion. Permanently."
He removed his hand and she shivered. Webby stroked her hair to soothe her and Lena settled at her touch. It looked like the only person Lena trusted was Webby. Then again, she hadn't shown up here with blood on her clothes. Damn, how had he missed the hat?
"Sure," Lena said, pretending like it was nothing. She attempted nonchalance. "I can live there. I practically live there anyway."
"Yes, you do," Webby agreed. She kissed her on the cheek. "Are you sure we can't take her home now, Uncle Scrooge?"
"I'm quite sure, lass," he said. "The doctors are going to want to keep an eye on her for a few days. Come, Webby. It's time to go."
"I'll be back tomorrow," she promised the older teen. She kissed her on the beaks and said in an undertone, "I love you."
Lena's features lit up at Webby's confession. Scrooge fought a frown. How often had Lena heard those words before she and Magica had separated? Was Webby the first person to say that to her? Damn Magica.
"I love you too," Lena whispered back. "I'd hug you, but you know."
"I can't call you," Webby said, frowning. "You can't answer the phone."
"We'll figure something out," she promised her. "You'd better go."
"I'll be back," Webby promised again as if she expected Scrooge to deny her. Scrooge took Webby's hand in his own and they walked back to the elevator. He could feel Lena's eyes on them as they walked away. The last talk he'd had with her hadn't happened. He needed to make time to impress upon her how much Webby cared for her and how she deserved a good home. Somehow, he thought the latter was more important right now and less likely for her to believe.
If only he could solve all of his problems by hitting them. He didn't normally resort to violence, but he'd been on edge for far too long. And after what he'd done with the Bloodhound Gang, he thought he'd refrain for a while, lest he alarm anyone.
"So, who did you hit?" Webby asked and startled him. He stopped in mid-step.
"I beg your pardon?" he said.
"You have more blood on your suit," she said. "If Lena noticed, you know I did too. And I know you were at the jail-did you attack the Bloodhound Gang?"
He groaned. "How long have you known?"
"Since you came in the room," she said. "You were favoring your right leg and your knuckles are swollen. Even without seeing the blood, I knew you'd been in a fight."
"Sometimes I forget how clever you are, lass," he said and she rewarded him with a smile. "But that'll be the last brawl I get into for a while."
She nodded, her smile vanishing as she glanced up at the hospital.
"She'll be out soon," he promised. "Would I lie to you?"
"No…," she said but she was frowning. They could barely see Lena's window from here, but it looked like a shadow was moving in it. Was that the source of Webby's distress? What was going on up there?
"You're not dead," Magica said.
"You sound disappointed," Lena countered.
"I didn't want you dead. If I wanted you dead, you'd know it," Magica returned.
Her aunt had her hands on her hips and walked around Lena's bed. Lena stiffened, wishing she had a way to defend herself. Even Magica's gaze was searing.
"Oh? So it's you I have to thank for being here?" Lena said and then scowled. "Oh, wait. It is."
"Don't be rebellious," she scoffed. "Emo hipster."
Lena rolled her eyes back at her. "Why are you here?"
"I told Gladstone I would check on you," she said. "You're lucky I'm feeling in a generous mood. I've decided to forgive your betrayal for now and might grant you a favor."
"Your favors always come with strings attached," she said sourly and then frowned deeper. Magica wasn't walking straight and Lena laughed.
"Side to side, huh?" she said with a cruel smile.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Magica informed her stiffly. "Now, I assume that you want to be healed. You should be rewarded anyway. You used magic!"
"Because it was either that or sit there and let them rape me," Lena said. "It's not an accomplishment. It was desperation."
Magica waved that off. "I can't heal you completely-or I won't-but I can expedite your healing. Just say the word."
"No. I won't be beholden to you for anything," she said and clenched her eyes shut. Why had Scrooge taken Webby away from her? Magica's company was no company at all.
"Am I hearing a 'yes'?"
"Is that what you said to Gladstone?" Lena countered.
"You know, I'm trying to help you and you're being very rude, Lena," Magica informed her. "It's almost like you don't want my help."
"I don't want your help!"
"Have it your way," she said and shrugged. Lena glared at her. It was almost like Magica was flaunting that she could shrug because she didn't have any nasty injuries. Lena had almost forgotten how much she detested her.
"By the way, if you see a certain couch that was in the living room outside and on fire, just know it was my gift to you and Scroogie," she informed her and then sauntered out. Lena groaned. What had that couch done to deserve its fate?
Then again, what had Lena done other than be hatched? She sighed, closing her eyes. She wasn't in the mood for TV anymore but couldn't turn it off. It'd switched to a hoarding show and she was beyond uninterested. She was stuck for the time being. Unless…
She reached for the remote with that strange mental power she'd harnessed, the one that felt like she was tearing an arm out of her mind, and shut the TV off. The remote clattered to the floor and Lena sighed. Well, that was better than nothing.
Too bad her control was clumsy at best. Maybe her powers amounted to being able to turn buttons on and off. That'd be pathetic.
Lena curled up as best as she could. There was going to be a long, empty night before she saw Webby again.