Chapter 1

Author Notes: I recommend you read my other story, "Duckworth's Worst Fear" first for a bit of the backstory I created.

Disclaimer: I don't own Ducktales or any of the characters, not even Jasper. Duckworth has a brother named Jasper. In anycase Duckworth having an evil twin sounds to me like something that should be a thing, so I wrote it. I started this idea in 2017 but haven't finished it until now, 2021. I did plan on this fic being more whumpy but I don't know what constitutes M or T anymore.

It was a quiet day at McDuck Mansion, or at least as quiet as McDuck Mansion gets. Duckworth sighed happily, Mr. McDuck and the children just arrived home yesterday from another of their thrilling adventures. Mr. McDuck was, as one would imagine, overjoyed he has claimed yet another ancient artifact. Once the appraisal is completed Duckworth was sure a space would need to be made for it somewhere. He thought it would make a fine addition to the upstairs hallway. That was something he would need to start on tomorrow morning. The children as always insisted on each telling him about their latest treasuring hunting adventure. Earlier he heard from each of the boys while he did his daily duties. Miss Webbigail, insisted as always that she tell him her story during one of her tea parties. Checking his watch, he saw that he had twenty minutes left to finish his daily tasks if he didn't want to be late. He just needed to take out the trash, close the garage door for the night, and he will be done for the day. He would even have time to create an arrangement of cookies and some milk, he was sure that his tiny hostess would enjoy that.

Duckworth was preoccupied trying to recall where he stored his shortbread cookies; he never heard the figure sneak up behind him as he closed the garage door.

Suddenly, he was grabbed from behind as his right arm was twisted and yanked behind his back. Another hand grabbed the back of his neck and slammed him against the now closed garage door. In the process the move pinned his free arm making it useless. The sudden impact left Duckworth stunned, what frightened him more was that he knew this technique well. It was used on him countless times during his youth and the memory of that assailant still sent shivers down his spine. He felt the heat of breath on his neck as the person behind him leaned in close to his ear. "Say it," The whisper commanded.

"No, it can't be," Duckworth gasped. He hadn't heard that voice in decades.

"Say it, or I'll break your arm" The voice whispered again more sharply this time.

"Jasper?" Duckworth asked, hoping he was wrong. In response he felt a sharp twinge of pain as his attacker twisted his arm more. "Say it, dear brother," he said silkily. Duckworth blanched--beads of sweat formed on his brow as his worst fears materialized. He tried to shrug off his attacker and to squirm his way out of his pinned position. His mind spun. How could this be happening? He was never supposed to see him again.

"Tsk, Tsk, someone has gotten feisty since I've been gone." Duckworth was once again slammed back into the garage door. This time he saw stars. He was sure he would have a nasty bump tomorrow morning. "Now say it!" The voice urged again icily. Duckworth felt fingers digging deeper into the arm, held behind his back. Duckworth choked back a cry of pain but he was determined not to give in.

"Have it your way," the voice whispered impatiently. The hand on the back of his neck squeezed tighter into a vice-like grip. His heart was pounding and he could hear the blood rushing through his throbbing head. The hand clamped around his neck was making it hard for him to breathe. He continued to struggle against the hands that helped him tight. He tried to cry out for help, but his screams were muffled as his attacker pressed his entire weight on him. Darkness began to pull at the corners of his eyes. Duckworth knew he was fading, he had reached his breaking point, he needed air or he was going to die.

"Uncle, Brother, uncle" Duckworth panted. Trying to gasp for air.

"Was that so hard? I don't know why you put up such a fuss every time. However, we're past that now. We need to go somewhere quiet, where two brothers can go to catch up." He increased the pressure on Duckworth's neck. Moments later Duckworths struggles subsided as his body went limp and his eyes fluttered closed. The last thought Duckworth had before oblivion was how disappointed his hostess would be that he missed her tea party.