I wasn't that surprised that I was now on my own. Scrooge had barely managed to get halfway through describing the Puk...Pug...whatever they were, and Webby had jumped at the chance to go on an adventure. She hadn't even seemed put out that I wanted to skip it, though I was a little bitter that she didn't even ask me why. So here I was four days after my return lying on the couch and staring at the ceiling while this annoying hunger grew inside me. The whole last few days had not exactly gone by smoothly, and I still had no idea just what I was supposed to be doing here.
Webby was here because of her grandma, who was here because she was an employee, the same went for the dangerous pilot and the ghost butler. The triplet clones were here because their uncle wanted free accommodation. So where did that leave me? If I was just a friend, was I expected to leave like Violet. There was something deeply unsettling about this whole annoyingly awkward situation but I kept worrying that if I actually asked anyone about then all of the cards would fall and I'd be out on my behind.
Louie hadn't been wrong about the supposed debt that the family rightly or wrongly felt that they owed me and it was what I was relying on in the meantime. However, it wasn't going to last forever and I needed to work out something before I got to the end, I just didn't even know where to start. And now that I had this stupid magic impulsion thing that was starting to control those around me the timeline to figure stuff out had gotten a lot shorter.
I felt certain that the first night I came back would've had Scrooge and me at the very least talk, but after my little blow up at him he hadn't even tried to talk to me, and the next few days had gone by with not a single complaint from him. It wasn't even like he was being cold or indifferent to me, he had said hello a few times and seemed to not mind my presence, but that didn't help me understand any better where we stood.
The whole situation seemed to be on the edge of something happening, but it just never seemed to take that next step and actually occur. I didn't even know if he was just treating it as an extended sleepover and expected me to leave within the next few days, or if he genuinely didn't mind if I stayed on a more permanent basis. The uncertainty was killing me.
However, for all my worries, there was a bright light at the end of the tunnel and for once it didn't appear to be an approaching train. Webby made it easy to pretend that I was wanted here, she always seemed eager for me to stay even after so many nights staying and I found myself slipping into the feeling of actually being comfortable here. I knew that it was false and that there was a guillotine hovering overhead just waiting for me to ask a dumb question.
Unfortunately, I knew that tonight was probably going to be my last night here, or at the very least would be the night where I was finally forced to actually determine if I was meant to stay here or not. This was the first time I'd had a meal without Webby sitting beside me, and she was kind of the imaginary reason I had made to stay. I couldn't pretend that this was just a sleepover anymore, I had to admit to myself that I was living here. It didn't help that I'd already caught myself calling it home more than a few times. I'd never really had a chance to call anywhere home before, Magica had always kept us on the move. Unfortunately, the reality was that this was not home. I was just a guest sleeping on Webby's floor with nowhere better to go and today I couldn't even pretend to be hanging out with Webby.
I really did wish it actually was my home, but it wasn't. They had treated me incredibly kindly after my return, but the whole situation was completely ridiculous. Here I was finally not fearing for my life, staying somewhere warm and comfortable, sleeping on a nice soft bed whenever Webby was busy, eating nicely prepared meals, watching their televisions, and yet I knew that there was something wrong. Everything just felt horribly uncomfortable, despite it also being the most comfortable I had ever felt in my life.
Ever since my return, I had caught myself believing that Scrooge actually wanted me here, and at times I actually believed it.
Today was not one of those times.
There was no reason that Scrooge actually wanted me here, there was no way that Beakley actually was okay with me corrupting her grand-daughter with a futureless bad influence like me, there was no way that Donald actually wanted me to be anywhere near his adopted kids. And yet here I was, sitting alone in Scrooge's dining room drinking a coffee made with the coffee beans that he paid for. None of it made any sense to me.
I needed to figure out this stuff as soon as I could, and I knew that the first step was to fix this stupid magic thing and buy myself time. If I could just limit it or something and buy myself a few weeks then I can figure this stupid stuff out. I was not going to go back to that mold-infested storage room in the amphitheater if I could help it. I stared at the coffee before me as it slowly cooled, trying to work out what to do.
"If I were magical information, where would I be hiding." I suddenly realized a solution to my problem. A scant few minutes later I was sneaking back into the Other Bin in search of real answers, rather than overblown lizards. The place was filled to the brim with magical junk and magical books, it stood to reason that if I was careful I could find answers to this stupid magical hunger and no one else would be any the wiser.
It took a long time to really find anything, and the whole time the hunger deep in the center of myself seemed to grow. The worst part was that most of the books he had hidden were completely worthless trash that would have been better burnt. What even was the point of transmutation alchemy anyway? Who would ever want to turn iron, something useful for building, into a soft golden heap of metal? Stupid pointless text that was hiding what I really wanted to find out.
However I persisted and after more rooms than I wanted to count, and potentially a released Chimera or two, I finally found what I was looking for. The name was a bit on the nose, Allurement Axiom, seriously even Vi would think it was over the top. I still am not sure why alliteration was such a prevalent habit in magical circles, but it certainly made book titles annoying. I sat down, leaning against the smooth concrete wall.
I carefully opened the book, clumsily checking for any cantrips with my magic as I did so. I probably should have checked before I opened it, but I was more than a little impatient to work out the mess. The book itself wasn't exactly what one would call well laid out, again not sure why magical communities love recording stuff in books but never bothering in proper indexes.
"I've been spending too much time around Vi if my bigger issues are the title and the glossary and not the blood-splattered cover" I muttered to myself as I frowned at the suspicious red liquid that had already managed to stain my hands. Still, the book was a metaphorical treasure trove of information and I settled in to read. The vault's subpar lighting was a bit annoying so I was forced to pull out the talisman and channel some energy through it so I had enough light to read. Violet had been unreasonably jealous when I had used my first night back, but it's not my fault she had it for months and failed to channel a single iota of energy through it.
The start was rambling, but that was par for the course in magic. I quickly skipped past the stories of subduing those who 'attempted to control' or whatever and got to the real meat of the book. It didn't help that the hunger had started growing again, and was making it increasingly difficult to focus, but I powered through it. Eventually, I managed to get somewhere and I began reading to myself.
When I was a young witch I often felt that there were those who incorrectly deemed themselves as being near equals to me. Those unmagical fools were rarely anything more than a small magical sip of energy to refresh me after a night's hard study, or after an even harder night's drinking. Let me tell you after you've downed your seventh wine you start looking at the busks li-
I skipped a few more pages forward while rolling my eyes. Magic users and staying on the topic were oxymorons, and just general morons at times. My eyes glazed over as I ran through many pointless pages of fluff before finally back to something useful.
However, getting magical power sources was rather easy at times. The best source I found was to consume life energy through a basic compulsion that would make the rubes devote their pointless lives to mine. With enough devotion, they would become little more than mindless familiars forever bound to me, well-bound until they lived their purpose.
I kept flashing my mind back to Webby and Violet spending so much time with me and that feeling of energy that their mere presence seemed to foster on me. "My return," I muttered to myself with a grimace as a horrible possibility reared its ugly head. "They used themselves to restore me to this world, I'm not taking from them, they are throwing themselves at me."
If anything this was considerably worse than anything else that I had considered, and the realization that Webby and Violet were effectively spending their own existence powering my pointless life was not a welcome one. I knew that I needed to ensure that I stopped it and I needed to do it quickly. I dove back into the book, searching desperately for an answer. Unfortunately, all the mentally-addled writer seemed to have, was steps to initiate the connection, never any way to stop it.
I was nearing the last page when I was knocked out of my focus by a loud knocking. I glanced up and nearly yelped to see Webby's grandmother looking at me with a raised eyebrow and a rather disappointed frown. I shut the book with a wince and shoved the talisman back under my shift. She was aware that I had the magical talisman on me, but I didn't really want to shove it in her face.
"Scrooge McDuck does not like it when people carelessly explore this domain," She told me in a clipped tone. "I understand that you may want to search for answers, but there are easier ways to go about it rather than letting out a Chimera." That made me flinch, I could have sworn that I had closed the door fast enough.
"Sorry about that," I mumbled.
"Next time, just ask me and I can show you exactly what you need," She told me with a sigh. "Now come on, I have dinner ready."
"Magic isn't really your forte" I complained as we made our way back out.
"Perhaps not" She admitted nonchalantly "However if it is magical information you need, I know for a fact that Scrooge has a significant portion of magical information in his personal office. I'm sure if you asked him he would be willing to assist you."
I frowned and said nothing in response, I did not want to ever go to Scrooge with this mess.
The dinner that night was probably one of the most awkward experiences that I had ever experienced in my last few days of existence. Sure, Beakley made an effort to be somewhat welcoming by actually remembering to include a third plate of dinner specifically for me. But that did little to disguise the fact that I was sitting in the kitchen long past my original welcome. Scrooge, Webby, and the triplets were still traveling back and were going to be arriving tomorrow, leaving just myself at the two adults alone in the manor. Well okay, there was also the ghost butler, but he seemed to avoid me.
Beakley hadn't said much tonight when she set out dinner for me, Donald, and herself. She just merely put the plate of food in front of me with a nod and returned to reading some magazines about recent weaponry releases or something. Donald didn't say anything either, only turning up long enough to pick up a plate, mutter some barest form of thanks, and trudge back to his houseboat without even bothering to acknowledge my presence. I tried my best not to take it personally, I did not succeed.
It wasn't like I wanted to leave, this weird pseudo acceptance was probably the closest I've ever been to a proper family, as pathetic as that sounds. But I couldn't keep pretending that everything was fine and keep burying my head in the sand. If Scrooge wanted me out of his home, then I wasn't going to be an ungrateful jerk and ignore his wishes, he'd already done so much for me. He had let me stay here for half a week and asked nothing of me, no one else had ever done anything like that. I couldn't just throw it back in his face and force myself into his family, even if forcing myself into his family was how I'd made it this far.
My real problem is that I honestly just didn't know how to work out what I was supposed to do. I couldn't just ask Webby, she would just say that I'm always welcome or say that I'm her sister or something silly and Scrooge would be forced to keep me here to appease her. If I was going to stay here, it has to be because they wanted me here, not because of some unsettling obligation forcing their hand. I've had enough of being forced to be around those who don't want me.
The room was silent as Beakley and I sat alone. I wanted to at least attempt to start some form of conversation to work out if I was doing what she even wanted me to do, but every time I got close to clawing enough courage together to open my mouth, she would turn a page in that stupid magazine and I would fall back to the start. Eventually, I gave up and just nudged around my food as I tried to work out how I could get out of this mess.
"I don't know why I even bother making you a proper meal if you're just going to play with it," Beakley suddenly spoke, and the words were undeniably harsh even though she tried to dress it up as a joke. I couldn't help wincing at the thought of offending her, my position in the house was already questionable enough without pushing away one of my better allies.
"Sorry," I mumbled, going back to my food and trying to bring myself to return to eating properly. It wasn't that easy, my appetite had pretty much evaporated before I'd even entered the dining room. To be fair to Beakley, the food was well prepared and probably tasted rather good, but I just felt like everything was off too much to really enjoy the experience. I was finding myself missing my friend's presence, without Webby everything just felt harder than it needed to be, and apparently, even the basic act of eating had reached the point of being difficult.
"I meant that in jest, not as an instruction," Bleakly tried to backtrack on her words, but I knew better than to take her at her word. She was a super sneaky spy who could see through anyone's lies according to Webby. While the supposed super spy had failed to see through my lies to her regarding Magica, I didn't feel like testing her abilities that night and instead just decided to do my best to keep the peace. She couldn't see through a lie that was never spoken, probably.
"I'm going to eat in Webby's room," I muttered as I went to pick up my plate. A part of me really did want to just force myself to ask her what was going to happen with me, but I just couldn't do it. No matter how temporary this is, at least it existed for as long as I didn't question it.
Unfortunately, I barely made it halfway back before I was hit by a wave of tiredness that seemed to slap my eyes closed. The world pitched as I struggled to keep my eyes open. I forced my eyes open and struggled back to Webby's room, leaving the plate of food on the bedside table with a fair amount of effort before I collapsed onto her bed.
I was asleep before I even hit the pillow.