Disclaimer: I don't own Ducktales!
Title: Unexpected Circumstances
Summary: Beakley wakes up to find that Lena is alive. That's somehow not the most jarring part of her morning.
Setting: Friendship Hates Magic!
...
Bentina considers it less of an oversight on her part and more of a diversion on Launchpad's. She'd been fairly busy, learning of Darkwing Duck (and perhaps proofreading a few less-than-kosher self-insert fanfics for him) and as such she hadn't been able to check in on Webby as much as she normally would. She'd been asked to interfere a bit less as is, in order to save Webby the trouble of explaining to this new friend that hi, yes, this is my super spy grandmother, she just likes to make sure I haven't been stabbed in the night, it's no biggie, we're totally normal here.
At around eight p.m., Bentina Beakley wishes Webby and Violet well and vanishes into her own thing.
At around eight a.m. Bentina Beakley walks into the room to find three sleeping bags on the floor.
Bentina Beakley learns Lena is alive again, somehow.
She takes it about as well as one can expect.
She pokes the girl with a broom.
Mostly to make sure she was solid matter. Partially because she was terrified it was all a sudden onset hallucination. She realizes that Lena is both solid and not a hallucination when she takes hold of the bottom and shoves it back a little- not strong enough to even sway Beakley, of course, it'd take more than an underfed child to sway Bentina Beakley- to glare at her.
"Rude," is what she says.
"You're not dead," Bentina says back. Her stomach had fallen into her shoes before, but now it soared as wild and free as Launchpad's planes did before crashing. "You're alive."
"Define alive," Lena replies, but sits up anyway. She's wearing the same sweater she died in. "Like, you can see me and junk? Sure. Beating heart and blood? Because I have none of those- and, frankly, they're kind of icky."
"You died," she repeats, struck dumb.
Lena shrugs. "I got better."
The response is so remarkably Lena that she does what only feels right. She grabs the girl and pulls her into a hug. She tenses- she always does- but almost instantly Lena is hugging back, without a hint of fear, and Bentina Beakley feels a surge of triumph.
She has to detach herself from the girl eventually, in order to walk Scrooge his breakfast. It's hard to leave the room, but once she's out of frame she perks up a bit, pep in her step. Beakley doesn't want to keep anyone- herself included- waiting.
That doesn't stop Scrooge from nettling her a bit, of course, glancing up as she sets the plate on the table. "Fifteen seconds off, 22. Thought yew died."
"Just cleaning up the summoning chalk," she replied, only half-joking. "The girls did a bit of a séance in the attic."
Scrooge snorts. "Webby sure knows how to pick 'em. Is she a decent lass?"
"I should hope so," Beakley says. "She brought Lena back to life."
The old duck coughs a mouthful of water-with-a-hint-of-nutmeg-tea back into his cup, slapping his chest. "Under my roof? And ye didn't tell me?"
"I just found out five minutes ago, sir."
Duckworth seems to deem this a good point to poke his head out of the ceiling. "I'm surprised you didn't notice, sir. The whole mansion reeks of Tulpas and baggle."
"Blasted shadows know not to get near me room." He adjusted his collar sheepishly. "Ach, I don't even have the nice tablecloths out. And there's so many anti-magic defenses. The mansion's not nearly in a state to receive Lena."
"She's not staying here," Duckworth said. Beakley's head snapped around to stare at him, eyes wide. He seemed a bit surprised at her reaction, shrugging it off. "I overheard them discussing it. She's going with that Sabrewing girl."
Beakley's jaw dropped open. "Wh- but she barely knows her! We barely know her!"
"Miss Sabrewing said something to the effect of her fathers being good at handling 'rough' cases."
"Aye, because any of us are exactly sane." Scrooge huffed, folding open the newspaper with one hand and getting a forkful of pancake with the other. "Let me jus' eat this and I'll go run a background check."
She rounded on Scrooge next. "You can't seriously be allowing this?"
"Lena's a fully realized duckling, Bentina," he replied, but she could tell from the roll of his eyes that he wasn't entirely fond of it either. "I cannae exactly keep her chained in the basement, now, can I? We'll prepare fer the worst and hope fer the best."
"She's had a lifetime of the worst. She shouldn't-"
"22," Scrooge rumbles, and she fell silent. Somehow, the use of her old number was more personal than her name. A long history of depersonalizing herself to slip into other roles, she supposed. "It's right noble to wanna care fer Lena. I want to care fer her too! I offered the lass a place in this family. If she decides she wants other things, then we have ta' respect that. Not every child that comes into our line of sight ends up being a new mission statement."
Bentina Beakley thinks of a baby, a bow, and an exploding F.O.W.L. base as she says, "You'd be surprised, Scrooge."
They get so caught up in their argument Beakley doesn't get the chance to return until the girls' are packing up. Which was, to say, that it was only Violet packing up, as Webby lived there and Lena just came out of the grave.
"I will go inform my fathers of the plan," Violet says, slinging her bag across her shoulders. "Do you have a need to recover any possessions from your last place of residence?"
"I was living under a soaking wet amphitheater that hasn't seen the light in months. Anything I had down there is probably moldy by now."
"Positively horrific," Violet notes, sounding like this is a discussion about the weather. "Well, rest assured, our home has proper water-tight boards and a structured roof."
"That sounds... like a house, Vi."
"Precisely. I will send a text when things have been settled."
Beakley shuffles out of the doorway for Violet to pass. The girl nods politely as she does. Webby follows closely, no doubt excited to meet more strangers. Lena hangs behind, watching warily as Beakley closes the door most of the way.
"Gonna off me, tea time?" she asks.
"I would've locked it," Beakley replies, because she's learned quick it's better to be honest with Lena than to simply reassure her. "I've heard you're leaving."
"I mean, I guess?" Lena held her hands up. "Violet seems to think she can just. Slot me into her life or whatever. So that's cool."
"You don't have to go. You know that, don't you?"
Lena scuffs her shoe on the floor.
"Lena."
"Yes, alright, I know. But I'm not like you guys." Lena plucked Webby's old doll off the wall, arrow and all, to hold out to her pointedly. "You guys live life as one constant doom explosion. I've been watching you for six months and I honestly dunno how any of you survive anything, ever. I wanna keep that stuff to the weekends, y'know what I mean?"
Beakley feels her shoulders slump, and chides herself a bit for it. Being disappointed by a child choosing her own life. How ridiculous. "I suppose that's fair."
"Relax, crumpets. You know me." She awkwardly nudged her with an elbow. "You think I was here all the time before? Woman, I will eat you out of house and home. I'll scratch all your old records. I'll make you cringe at the sound of my voice. Fight me, Beakley."
Beakley laughs, and brings her in for another hug. Lena is happy to oblige. "Good. Just know you'll always have a future with us, dear."
"A bright one?" Lena asks, rhetorical, but there's something sharp and hurting just below the surface. A fragment of the little girl chased by witches and cursed by shadows. The one Beakley hadn't seen before- been too blind to realize- but desperately wanted to protect and care for now.
She squeezed. "The brightest."
Author's Note: I had a lot of fun with this one! Writing Ducktales seems to be so easy and smooth for me, idk. Have 1300+ words of Local Grandma Loving Shadow Children
-Mandaree1