Prologue: The Accident

"I'm on my way home, Gos. Sorry, I was working late. One of the basketball kiddos had a question."

"Just be safe, Dewey. Wanda and I love you. My dads and I will have dinner ready for you when you get home."

"You're the best. Love you too, Gosalyn."

Dewey Mallard hung up and looked out across the horizon, which was streaked with soft peaches and pinks. The silhouette of St. Canard's city skyline was pitch-black against the sunset sky. Dewey got into his car, and as he buckled his seatbelt, his phone lit up with a text message. Before reading it, his finger hovered over the phone as he gazed lovingly at his lock screen. It was a picture of him and his family. A redheaded woman stood beside him, cradling a five-year-old girl in her arms. Behind them was a tall, muscular duck with a defined beak and a blue hat, as well as a shorter man with a pink flannel shirt on. They were all a smiling, happy family.

Dewey chuckled and slid up, opening his phone. The text was from his wife, Gosalyn Mallard. Before I forget, could you pick up some soy milk and ginger ale on the way home? Wanda's stomach has been upset all day. The ginger ale should settle it, but I'll take her to the doctor tomorrow to see if she's lactose intolerant.

Sounds good, hon. It's a bit of a detour, but I'll be home by dinner, Dewey texted.

After a couple of minutes, another text from Gosalyn appeared on the screen. Oh, I'm sorry, if it's out of your way I can pick some up while you're at work tomorrow.

No, it's fine! Dewey typed hastily. Don't worry about it. What's the worst that could happen? It's just a grocery run.

Just be safe.

I will. Love ya, Gos.

Love ya too, dingus.

The drive to the grocery store was a quick one from St. Canard Middle School, though it was in the opposite direction of the Mallards' apartment. Dewey picked up what his wife had requested, and got to the counter and put them on the conveyor.

"This all you need, sir?" the cashier asked, ringing up the two items - a carton of soy milk and a six-pack of ginger ale. Just what Gosalyn had asked for.

However, Dewey was eyeing the treats and trinkets near the register. Wanda had an upset stomach, so candy or gum wouldn't be good for her, but she did start elementary school in a couple of weeks…

"This key chain as well, please," Dewey said, placing a little purple tag with the initial "W" on it on the conveyor. Purple was Wanda's favorite color.

The cashier laughed. "Sure thing, sir." He rang up the trinket and handed it to Dewey.

"Actually, could I get this wrapped, please? With a card?" Dewey asked.

"Of course," the cashier replied, and Dewey handed the key chain back.

In a couple of minutes, the key chain was wrapped in a lavender paper with a little black bow on top. To: Wanda, From: Dad, Dewey wrote in black pen. This is for you, Wanda. Your first treasure. Starting elementary school is an adventure, and your dad's going to be there to help you Dewey your best. Love you, sweetie. Dewey snorted at his own pun, one that he had been using for most of his life now and was a very, very prominent dad joke in the household. Gos didn't find it funny anymore, but Launchpad, Dewey's father-in-law and best friend, still found it hilarious after all this time.

Dewey paid for the three items and left the grocery store, resisting the urge to moonwalk out the sliding doors. He wasn't a kid anymore. He knew that, but being a theater teacher and a basketball coach kept him in touch with his more childish side. Well, he thought it did. The students, not so much. But it was still tempting. Dewey's brothers would never let him hear the end of it if they were there, but they weren't. Still, he kept the temptation down and continued acting like a normal adult.

Dewey got back in his car and shot Gosalyn another text. Got the goods. I'll be home in about fifteen minutes.

He didn't even glance back for a reply. His eyes were glued tight to the road. He grimaced; it was rush hour, and there was a light dusting of snow falling from the sky. It was already quite dark, even though it was only nearing six o'clock. Late November was a cruel mistress sometimes. The road is slick, Dewey thought. No wonder Gos told me to be careful.

The highway wasn't as bad as the congested St. Canard roads, but it was still slick. The snow was picking up, and it was much harder to see, even with Dewey's windshield wipers at the highest setting. He squinted, trying his best to focus on the road ahead of him.

Something rammed into the vehicle from the side. Dewey cried out, reflexively turning the wheel in the opposite direction to steady himself again, but it was no use. The road was too slippery. He slammed on the brakes as the car spun out. Another force, this time from the back, jostled Dewey in his seat, and he squeezed his eyes shut as his head hit the dashboard. His vision went dark.

When he woke up, he was faced with a bright, white light, and he was laying down, strapped to something. A lab table? He couldn't quite tell. His left eye was open - he could feel it - but… he couldn't see. His right eye was still functioning, but in the extremely bright lighting and the haze of just waking up, the image was blurry. A looming shadow blocked out the fluorescent light as it stood over him.

"Well, well, well… what do we have here?"

...

Author's Note

This may be a new story, but I'm warning you now, I'll be going on a long, long hiatus. I'm going to write the rest of this story before I upload the rest of it. I'll also be cross-posting on AO3 under the same handle, on the same schedule. After the rest of the story is finished, I'll be doing weekly uploads of it. I hope you enjoy it! It's something I've been thinking about for a couple of days and I'm really excited to be writing it down. :)

~ShootingStarfruit