Webby awoke and felt alone. She pushed herself into a sitting position, which she hadn't been able to do earlier, and discovered Dewey was missing. Heart in her throat, she looked around the dim room. The moon outside, as well as the downed lights, told her she must've awoken in the night. Her grandmother was curled up on the seat along the wall across from her bed, but Dewey was nowhere to be seen. What if her father was right? What if he really had abandoned her? She was in no condition to race after him.

"Granny?" she called softly and her grandmother started. She must've been sleeping lightly.

"Ah, you're awake again," she said and smiled at her. "You must be feeling better if you can sit up now."

"Where's Dewey? And the others?" she said and swallowed back panic.

"Visiting hours are over, dear. Mr. McDuck was able to pull strings and let me in, but they only let in family," she said. "The others are at home."

"Oh."

She felt stupid for having asked and she glanced down at the thin blue blanket covering her. Her grandmother rose and crossed the room to smooth back her hair.

"What did Steelbeak say to you when he called you earlier?" her grandmother asked, drawing up a chair at her bedside.

"It doesn't matter."

"Sooner or later, you're going to have to trust us, Webby. I'm sorry you were attacked and I blame myself. But you still have to talk to us and tell us things. We're not going to condemn you for being afraid."

We, we, we. As though they were a team operation. Webby's throat was tight. Though she'd been in Duckburg for almost a month now, she had had few moments alone with her grandmother. For the most part, she'd been trying to avoid them. Her feelings about Agent 22 were muddled. All her life, she'd been raised to hate her and she couldn't remember a time when she didn't. Yet her grandmother loved her. Her grandmother had let her poison her to prove a point, that Webby wasn't a FOWL agent.

"I know Steelbeak and Black Heron weren't exactly flattering when it came to discussing me."

Webby's gaze met her grandmother's and Webby's beak twitched like she wanted to smile. She felt so damned vulnerable that she wished she were alone and simultaneously didn't. If she could have risen from the bed and walked out of there to hole up somewhere like a wounded animal, she would have. Anything would've been better than someone seeing her like this.

"Please. Please trust me when I say that I want what's best for you, that I always have."

Maybe it was because she was so weak that the doubts had flitted in. Or perhaps it was Steelbeak's voice in the back of her mind telling her not to trust anyone. She had survived so long by not trusting anyone; the few people she had trusted had died or vanished, after all. But Dewey...Dewey and Lena and her grandmother…they weren't going anywhere.

"Let me guess. He told you we'll all leave you or betray you, that he's the only one you can trust. Is that right?"

Webby's hands curled into the sheets.

"The Duck family is nothing but loyal, Webbigail. As are Lena and I. No one is going anywhere and you know Steelbeak wants you back as his possession. He would do or say anything to convince you to return.

"You're scared. I understand that. Any time you were vulnerable at FOWL, they would exploit it, especially Black Heron."

Mrs. Beakley's face scrunched up. "I do wish I'd gotten the chance to kill her. The damage is already done, I fear."

"He'll come back, won't he?" she blurted and then hated herself for it.

"The others will come back during the daytime, yes," her grandmother said.

Webby didn't know what to say or how to prolong the conversation. While she was grateful that her grandmother was here, she wasn't the one she'd wanted by her side. Mrs. Beakley had all of that negative baggage attached to her after the ten years Webby had spent at FOWL. Dewey had none. Hell, even Lena would've been preferable.

"I expect Heron told you that I'm the reason she's missing an arm."

"Over and over." Lest Webby ever stand a chance of forgetting.

"I'm sure they've called me every foul name in the book, as well as denigrating your mother for being drugged by Steelbeak and then raped."

Webby froze. She knew she'd been the product of a one night stand and that Wren had been a conquest for Steelbeak. He had neglected to mention the rest, of course. The blood drained from Webby's face.

"I see they didn't tell you the entire story. I'm not surprised."

"He...I…" She was at a loss.

"If your father had had any morals at all, well, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Steelbeak truly hadn't wanted her because she was his get, but because she was a prize of some sort, a trophy from a disgusting night. Her stomach roiled and she swallowed back the bile that burned her throat. That put things into a disturbing sort of perspective. Shaking, she forced herself to meet her grandmother's eyes again.

It wasn't that Webby didn't believe her. No, she was willing to believe the worst in Steelbeak, because she'd seen what he was capable of. It was that the truth of the matter broke her in a way she hadn't been before. When Steelbeak couldn't kill Wren, he'd destroyed her instead. Webby had no idea how her mother had died, aside from Steelbeak's comments that struck her as false now.

"I wanted you from the moment you were laid, regardless of the circumstances," Mrs. Beakley continued, watching her closely. "I raised you from the moment you hatched until that fateful day and I never stopped loving you. Anyone who saw you as a hatchling fell for you too, the same way. Well, except for Mr. McDuck, but at the time, he was mourning his family."

"I won't leave you," she promised. "I swear on my life, Webby."

"Where's Steelbeak now?" she asked. She was never referring to him as her father again if she could help it. Her shoulders shook and she ached for love and affection. Mrs. Beakley hugged her tightly to her and Webby's arms went around her.

"Below the Money Bin in a prison cell. It's the most secure place in Duckburg. We still don't know where Heron and Magica are, unfortunately."

She cupped Webby's face in her hands. "I love you. It's okay if you don't feel the same yet. Or if you don't feel it the way I do. It's enough to have you here and with me."

Tears sprang to her eyes and her throat was tight. She wanted Dewey. She was afraid to trust her grandmother and yet she desperately wanted to. Somehow, she had grown to depend on Dewey a bit too much. She might have tied her sanity to him.

"Get some sleep," she advised. "We can talk more in the morning, all right?"

She released her and Webby felt like a small child losing her only source of solace. Her beak quivered.

"I can sit here if you want until you fall asleep," she suggested. Webby nodded.

"The others will be here in the morning. Until then, pleasant dreams, Webby."

Webby's beak quirked again. That was a hopeless endeavor, wishing for her to have pleasant dreams. She almost invariably had nightmares, but it was kind of her grandmother to wish them on her. With Steelbeak's words reverberating in her mind and her grandmother's explanation of how she'd come about likewise bouncing around in there, she doubted she'd have anything approaching pleasant dreams.

The next time she awoke, she was completely alone. Tears streaked down her cheeks and she rubbed at them. She'd had a nightmare that everyone had left and Steelbeak stood alone in her hospital room with cold, cruel eyes as the moonlight shone down upon him. He'd been holding a gun and telling her that it was time to go home, she'd been with her "friends" long enough…

Maybe it hadn't been a dream. Maybe it was a prophecy. The sun was up and the clock on her heart monitor said it was seven a.m. Her stomach churned and she jumped when a nurse walked in. The nurse had blonde hair, a heart-shaped face, and dragon earrings. Behind her came a dog orderly, who was pushing along a large cart full of breakfast items. Once he'd delivered her food to her and the nurse took her vitals, Webby was left alone again.

She wanted to pull her knees into her chest, but she could barely do more than sit up. Swiping at her cheeks again, she gasped back a sob. She had no idea when visiting hours started or ended. Although she had a remote attached to her bed, she had no desire to turn on the TV. Not having had much access to TV growing up, she didn't see the appeal.

Without her phone or her weapons, she felt defenseless. Moreover, wires and needles and lines connected to all different parts of her body and a cuff around her arm was checking her blood pressure. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't. There was no reason to cry, just because everyone was gone and Steelbeak's words...and then her grandmother's…

Why had her grandmother wanted her if she'd been the product of a rape? Why would she love her? Then again, she didn't completely comprehend love. On a biological level, love made sense in keeping society together. And on a logical level, Steelbeak's actions had ensured that he had an heir to FOWL. She ran a shaky hand through her hair. None of this was making her feel any better.

"Webs?" a familiar voice called and Webby startled, reaching for the first thing on hand, which was her call button/tv remote/bed control. Dewey was at her side and she didn't know where he'd come from. Her heart pounded and her heart rate spiked according to the meter above her bed.

"Hey. Hey. Calm down, it's just me. The others wanted to see you too, but...have you been crying?"

She scrubbed at her cheeks again and he pulled her hands away. Leaning in, he brushed his beak along the tear tracks and she gasped back a sob. Dewey climbed onto the bed with her and pulled her into his arms, even with all that damn medical stuff attached to her. If he moved the wrong way, she'd end up tangled in it.

"Louie was going to apologize...or bug you about FOWL...I don't know which," he said. "But then he got distracted by one of his cons going awry at breakfast."

Webby raised her eyebrows and Dewey shrugged.

"So I snuck away," he added and kissed her on the beak. She draped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. If her behavior was a little more desperate than usual, it was because of everything echoing in her head. Her heart raced and she wondered whether she could get away with anything in the hospital. Dewey had already told her point blank that she was pushing things too far too fast. But...how could she ensure he wouldn't leave her otherwise?

Or would that make her as bad as Steelbeak?

"Webby?" he asked, pulling back. "What's wrong?"

Her beak trembling, she relayed what her grandmother had told her that morning. Dewey frowned, his forehead crinkling.

"You know I love you, right? And how you came into this world doesn't matter, okay? I still don't know who my dad is and I don't think Mom is ever going to tell us."

She'd rather not know who her father was than be in this situation, but she didn't want to say that and hurt his feelings. She pulled him closer again and they kissed, Webby leaning up against him so that she could feel him surrounding her. His fingers ran through her hair and she molded her body against his.

"You're not Steelbeak," he murmured when they broke apart. "You're not a psychopath."

"Mmm," she said, which wasn't agreeing or disagreeing. She kissed him again, applying pressure this time, and her hands wandered along his body. He brought them firmly back around his neck.

"Webby, I'm serious," he said, pulling away from her. "You don't know what you're doing."

"I do too," she huffed.

"Stop," he said and the word struck her like an arrow to the heart. "No. I want that with you, yes, but not now. We're still kids, Webby."

"You might have had the chance to be a kid, but I didn't," she said and was unable to keep the hurt from her voice. Dewey straightened and left her alone on the bed. Tears stinging her eyes and hating herself for feeling rejected, she turned her head. Was Steelbeak right? Would he abandon her? He'd said he'd wanted it with her, though. What did the timing matter?

"We're in a hospital," he said in a hushed voice. "And my brothers, Uncle Scrooge, Mrs. B, and Lena are coming in. Do you really want them walking in on that?"

"If they're coming, then where are they?" she asked, speaking into her pillow.

He dragged the chair up against her bed and stroked her hair. She refused to be comforted and she shuddered.

"They're eating breakfast. As I said, I snuck away before they had a chance to notice I was missing. They'll be here in ten or fifteen minutes.

"Webs...I don't know much about girls, but...I think you're confusing physical intimacy with love."

At this, she rolled over and stared at him.

"Just because I don't want sex right now doesn't mean I don't love you or want you. You don't need sex to be with someone. I'm not going to leave you."

He leaned forward to kiss her and she turned her head.

"Why is it always all or nothing with you?" he asked, exasperated.

Webby dug her fingers into her palm. She was shaking and refused to reply to him. So what if she was conflating the two? Didn't physical intimacy mean he was less likely to wander or abandon her? Didn't it mean he could get something from her that he couldn't get from someone else?

Though thinking about it made her realize this was less about physical intimacy and more about how little self-esteem she had. With a sigh, she turned back over to look at him. She brushed her palm along his cheek and he held it there.

She was running on terrified again and making decisions based off what she feared would happen, not what would. Her grandmother was right. She needed to have more faith in people. It was hard, but it wasn't fair to anyone to keep them locked out.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and he kissed her palm.

They gazed at each other for a minute and she thought she could get lost in his eyes. The tears that had pricked her eyes before unexpectedly flowed and she gasped back a sob. Dewey hugged her and she hugged him back tightly, fiercely.

"Sssh, it's okay," he soothed. It wasn't and they both knew it, but it was reassuring to hear, nonetheless. Even if it was a platitude.

Thankfully, she got herself under control fairly quickly. After all, she had practice at it. Dewey frowned and kissed her. This time, she didn't push her luck and her hands fisted in his shirt. Then she sniffed and frowned, releasing him.

"What?" he asked.

"When was the last time you bathed?" she asked. "You're still wearing that perfume."

"I didn't have time last night!" he said, defensive. "I crashed into bed and when I woke up, everyone wanted breakfast."

"Excuses," she said and smirked. Her levity vanished, however, as she heard steps approaching. She released him and wielded the remote like a weapon.

"I dinnae think you're going to hurt many people with that, Webbigail," Scrooge McDuck said and she relaxed again.

"Though you could always throw it at someone," Louie said. "Feeling any better?"

"A little," she said, resting back against the pillows. Dewey's hand sought hers and held it.

"We argued that because of the circumstances, you needed us around, but the hospital only allowed for Gizmoduck and Darkwing, not us," Huey added. "And they left this morning to get some sleep."

A feeling like ice slid down her spine. "Are you saying I'm unguarded?"

"You're not," Mrs. Beakley said. "Or are you forgetting I'm a former SHUSH agent? And Darkwing Duck is a buffoon."

Webby attempted a smile that fell flat.

Louie pulled out his phone to check up on one of the con games that Dewey had mentioned and Lena flopped into the couch opposite Webby. Scrooge frowned.

"We seem to be stretching the hospital's guest limit."

Webby saw he was right. Between the triplets, him, her granny, and Lena, they were a few people too many for ICU. Possibly no one had alerted them to that because he was Scrooge McDuck and people feared offending him. Still, the room was rather crowded with all those people. She was loath to ask people to leave. Part of her feared they'd never return.

"I'm staying," Dewey said, stubborn.

"As am I," Mrs. Beakley added.

Scrooge studied Webby for a minute. "Aye, then I'll stay too."

"None of us are going unless they kick us out," Lena said and that seemed to settle things. Everyone went back to jostling for space on the couch or otherwise looking for places to stand or sit. Dewey tucked Webby's hair back.

"Are you sure Steelbeak's locked up securely?" she asked, knowing she was being pathetic but not caring.

"Oh, aye," Scrooge confirmed. "I'd like to see FOWL break him out of me Money Bin."


At that moment, FOWL agents were having a hell of a time confirming that Steelbeak was in the Money Bin, let alone where he might be. Conventional scans yielded nothing. The building was impermeable and it looked like Steelbeak might be stuck there until they could figure out how to sneak in. That might take longer than expected.

Meanwhile, Black Heron had set up a small webcam last night in Webby's hospital room. During the twilight hours, in which she was finally left alone and Gizmoduck had passed out in the hallway, she'd bribed an orderly to sneak a camera in. She didn't dare do it herself, not yet. From here, she could get information on Webby's current state and whether it'd be safe, in a day or two, to sneak back in and finish the job.

To her consternation, Webby seemed to have suffered no ill effects from her near strangulation. Well, aside from emotional distress, but Heron waved that off. While she enjoyed seeing Webby despondent, that wasn't the main point.

There was, however, another problem. Steelbeak was incarcerated, but he had spies everywhere too. And a dead heron had found its way to Magica's hideout. The message was clear if a bit gauche. She had bitten off more than she could chew and Steelbeak had found out about it.

Normally, she might have been able to brush it off, but she was jittery now. She didn't like hiding in Magica's lair and waiting for action. Magica had gone out and left Heron to her own devices. She needed to find out where Steelbeak was and prevent him from escaping and coming after her. But how?

Magica had no interest in tangling with Steelbeak. Therefore, it behooved Heron to figure a way out of this mess and quickly. Begging for forgiveness was out of the question. Even if Steelbeak believed her, which she doubted, she'd transgressed too far for a simple apology.

She watched Webby alone in her hospital room again. It was nearing midnight and her grandmother had stepped out to perform guard duty while they awaited Darkwing and Gizmoduck. The two had been at loggerheads earlier, which had amused Heron slightly. Apparently, Darkwing's ego meant he didn't like sharing the spotlight, even on guard duty. Perhaps especially on guard duty.

She could use that to her advantage, provided she didn't fail at it as Steelbeak had. No, she'd have to be subtler than that. He'd been foolish enough to think he could walk right in there and the world would bow at his feet. She sneered at his sheer arrogance.

Frowning, she cocked her head at the webcam. If she came in there now via the window, she'd have to scale the building. That was do-able. She might be able to suffocate Webby. With her dead, she'd have one less enemy on her back. Two enemies were not such great odds, but it was better than three.

Her mind made up, she headed out of the apartment. While she could hire the Beagle Boys for this and hope they didn't bungle it, she preferred the personal touch. Besides, the Beagle Boys were in for petty larceny. They wouldn't stoop to killing children. Black Heron, by contrast, had no such compunctions.

As she moved through Duckburg, she noted the heightened police activity. This could be problematic. Everywhere she went, she had to slink through the shadows like a common criminal. Much of Duckburg's usual nighttime activities were curtailed and she knew she'd look suspicious wandering about on her own. Magica could travel using the shadows if she chose, but Black Heron had no such option. It would be wiser to return to the flat and try again. Wiser, perhaps, but unacceptable. She'd rather risk capture and achieve her goal than sit up there and twiddle her thumbs.

Police presence bulked up considerably the closer Black Heron drew to the bridge leading to the Money Bin. That must've been where Steelbeak was. For a few seconds, she contemplated going down there, but the odds were good she'd be shot on sight. No, if she intended to reach the Money Bin, she'd need to travel there underground. There were underground passageways if she recalled correctly. Unfortunately, she thought they might be linked to McDuck Manor. If she wasn't getting into the Money Bin, there was no chance in hell she'd survive breaking into McDuck Manor.

"Hold it right there," Gizmoduck snapped and Black Heron froze, pivoting and spraying noxious gas at his face. His visor went down to shield him from the worst of it and an extended arm reached out for her. She jumped out of the way and hissed, switching her arm's weapon to a positron laser. It was Gizmoduck's turn to dance out of the way.

"You were supposed to be at the hospital," Heron growled.

"I had a hunch you might've been spying on us," Gizmoduck answered. He produced the webcam she had installed and smashed it under his wheel. "Nice try."

Black Heron cursed and Gizmoduck stared, unimpressed.

"I'd ask if you kissed your mother with that mouth, but I'm pretty sure you killed her."

"You'd be right," Heron sneered. She narrowed her eyes. "You're not going to let me get near Webbigail, are you?"

"Not a chance."

Since the paralytic agent hadn't worked, thanks to the suit, she shot at him. He was faster than her, albeit less experienced with fights. When his arm swept to knock her over, she ducked beneath it and then punched his face, as it was the only vulnerable, exposed part of his body. The helmet and visor lowered so that she only caught his mouth. After the blow, she didn't move fast enough and this time, his arm connected, crushing her in a bear hug that took her breath away.

"Two down, one to go," Gizmoduck said cheerily and she spat in his face. She searched the suit for a release button and then smirked, recalling that stupid catchphrase.

"Blathering Blatherskite!" she called and the suit dumped him out only to put her in.

"No, it's not...it's not supposed to do that! I thought we had that fixed!" Gizmoduck said angrily. Or, rather, whoever he was without the costume. She snickered. Now she had the upper hand.

"You thought wrong," she said and then smiled, leaning in toward him while attired in his battle suit. "Now, any last words?"

"Blathering-" he started and she cuffed him on the back of the head.

"Ugh, I should have known he was going to say that," she said, shaking her head. She cast aside the armor and aimed her positron laser at him. "Oh, well. You'll have to say hello to Webbigail for me after I kill her."