Unlike my previous stories, I've been pretty quiet about this one: but after watching Sky Pirates… in the Sky!, it sort of inspired me into wanting to write this fic. So, here it is: my take on the various Captain Dewey AU's. Introducing Anchor.

Enjoy!

ooo

They didn't even notice that he was missing.

That did it. The lack of attention had been a recurring theme throughout Dewey's life, but this day alone had finally pushed it. He was seen as an attention seeker, and he was exhausted from that identity. All he wanted was for someone to listen to him, and it took joining Don Karnage's pirate crew to achieve that.

Dewey scowled at his family. "You didn't even notice I was gone?!" he began furiously, before strutting off to the side, not wanting to face them. "That's it! I'm staying here," he decided.

Scrooge glared at him in disbelief. "You ran away, joined a pirate crew, and you're mad at us?!" he demanded, but his nephew ignored him.

"Let them go," Dewey seethed. "And give them back their tainted treasure," he growled. In a lower voice he added, "If they can't remember me, I don't want to remember them!"

Ugly Mug recoiled at this. "Give the treasure back?"

Louie began panicking. "That probably won't be all the treasure! Not all of it! A jewel or something, you know, could have been lost forever during that dance number!"

Dewey ignored his younger brother's rambling, and folded his arms, glaring at the ground.

Peg Leg Meg, looked at him curiously. "Don't you want to ransom them, or make them walk the plank… or you know, something… piratey?" she asked her captain.

Dewey looked at her with a passive expression, and she saw that he didn't want to talk about it. "No, Meg… just… just give them back their treasure," he spoke softly before walking outside to get some fresh air.

Meg glanced at Ugly Mug, who shrugged, but she wordlessly unsheathed her sword, slicing the McDuck Clan's restraints with ease. Scrooge stood up, and eyed the blue nephew, who leaned against the hatch door, eyeing the brewing storm outside. He contemplated on going to talk to him, but a small hand stopped him. He looked down to see Webby looking up at him with a sad expression.

"I'll… I'll go talk to him. This is our fault," she whispered quietly.

Scrooge said nothing, and watched her walk over to her best friend. He gestured for Huey, Dewey, and Launchpad to start gathering the treasure and putting them inside the Sunchaser. The pirates parted ways, making space for the McDuck Clan.

"Dewey…" Webby began gently, reaching for his shoulder, but he turned away from her.

"No, Webbs. I'm staying here," he murmured softly.

Webby winced at his uncharacteristic montoned voice. "Dewey, it was an honest mistake. Huey got covered in blue ink, and—"

Dewey finally turned to face her, and she took in his saddened expression. "It's not just today, Webby," he said softly. "I'm tired of being this middle child. I'm not the oldest. I'm not the youngest. People just… forget me. Even Scrooge forgets my name. I'm sick of it, Webbs," he swallowed thickly.

She frowned. "Well, if you think your Uncle Scrooge is–eep!" she yelped when Dewey unsheathed his sword, making sure the blade gently poked her throat. But that wasn't what scared her—it was Dewey's dull, lifeless eyes.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed his family and Launchpad staring at him in horror.

"I need you to go," he murmured quietly, not able to meet her eyes. "Now."

Aside from the yelp of surprise, if Webby was scared, she didn't show it. Instead, she glared at him, her eyes welling up with tears.

Dewey scowled, but he let go of her.

"You know what?" she decided, gently rubbing at her neck. "If you don't know your own worth, I can't fix that! That's up to you to figure out."

He looked down.

"If you can't see how much you mean to me, then we've accomplished nothing in this friendship. Nothing!" she spat with a sneer. "A-and I am not going to stand here, telling you how much you mean to me. It'll hurt too much."

With that, Webby spun around on her heel, and stormed her way towards the Sunchaser, leaving a wake of fire in her path. Dewey gritted his teeth, and turned to follow her, but a soothing hand was placed on his shoulder. He tensed up, but relaxed when he saw that it was Meg.

"Leave her, Captain Dewey." she growled, glaring at the young girl.

Dewey frowned, but did nothing as Webby entered the Sunchaser.

There were hushed tones coming out of the plane, but after some rather loud shouting on Webby's part, Launchpad closed the hatch. And with that, the Sunchaser flew out of the Iron Vulture, leaving the Air Pirates and their new captain alone.

Dewey wished he knew what he had truly signed up for.

-10 Years Later-

The sun woke her up.

The first thing to come to Meg's head, before the pounding headache caused by the ridiculous amount of alcohol she had consumed last night, was a curse word. That particular curse word was followed by three more curse words, and then the headache attacked the poor First Mate of the Air Pirates.

The ache in her head was further aggravated by that one sunbeam that just had to fall perfectly across Meg's closed eyes. She groaned, but that only worsened the pain in her head and made her aware of how cottony her mouth tasted.

And, as she did every time she woke up hungover, Meg promised herself two things:

She would kill Dewey next time she saw him, because this was always his fault, no exceptions.

She was never, ever drinking again. Or at least, not as much as she did last night.

Knowing she couldn't waste away to the effects of the alcohol, Meg forced herself out of bed, and stumbled into the bathroom inside her living quarters. She stripped out of her grimy clothes from last night's party, and stepped into the shower, eyes still closed.

Dewey, who had essentially become her little brother in the years he had been leading their crew, could be a child at heart. So, often, most of the Iron Vulture's responsibilities fell onto her head. Meg didn't mind; as First Mate, she was in charge of most things anyway. She knew Dewey would eventually figure out when to run the ship without having her there to oversee his every single move. But for now, she didn't mind playing a captain/First Mate hybrid.

Meg had to do the same for Don Karnage, however, but unlike Dewey, Karnage had never taken the time to learn the true responsibility of running a pirate crew. To him, being an Air Pirate meant stealing treasure and singing. Meg was the one who mapped their courses, figured out which targets to hit, made sure the crew was fed and taken care of, and made sure everyone was comfortable inside of the Iron Vulture. Dewey was beginning to take on more responsibilities like that, but he was much better than their previous captain in many ways:

Dewey cared about them, and took the time out of his day to get to know each of them on a personal scale. He took great interest in checking who wanted to join the Air Pirates, and decided who stayed and who was to walk the plank. That was more than Don Karnage did in his stint with the Air Pirates.

Another striking difference between Dewey and his predecessor was that Dewey established a no killing rule. Don Karnage had no issue ending anyone that came in his way, but their current captain had a moral compass.

The last difference was that Dewey would split any found treasure into three main sections: the first was for the ship's maintenance, the second was to pay all of the crewmates, and the third was dedicated to families in need. The Air Pirates weren't good people, but they had good intentions. Don Karnage and Dewey Duck were like night and day. And with Dewey at the helm, the Iron Vulture's future looked bright.

And she was glad for that.

Meg finished her shower, grabbed her towel, and patted herself dry. She pulled her slightly damp auburn hair back into a bun, and threw on a loose red T-shirt and sweats.

With her hangover slightly eased, she headed towards Dewey's room. The Iron Vulture had an entire section dedicated to providing the crew members with small rooms. Several of her crewmates had barely made it to bed, and she counted nine of them in the hallway. God, she was going to kill Dewey. Nights of partying usually started off low-key, but he always managed a way to make them wild and untamed.

She rounded the corner to a private hallway. The captain's chamber was very quiet and secrete, as the crewmates valued their captain's privacy.

Well, almost everyone.

Just as Meg was about to pound on his door with her fist, a voice interrupted her.

"O-oh, Captain!" a woman's voice gasped.

Meg blushed, but she wasn't having it. She pounded on the door, and demanded for him to show. "Aye, Dewford, if you don't get your arse out here, I'll end ye!"

She might as well have been talking to a wall, because the woman's moans grew louder, and she heard his bedpost banging against the wall. Meg practically felt Dewey's smug smirk from here.

"Dewey!" she snapped harshly, not amused.

"H-harder, Captain!"

Somehow, the sultry noises became louder, and Meg wondered exactly what he was doing to that woman. Realizing that there was no use, she rummaged through her pocket, and fished out a key. She jammed the key into his door, and swung the door open, fire in her eyes.

The woman, who was obviously not expecting to be walked in on, yelped and covered herself with the bedsheets. However, Dewey leaned back, smug as ever. The blanket barely covered him, and he was one inch from slipping out of his modesty.

"Good morning, First Mate Meg." he smirked.

Meg rolled her eyes: even with his ruffled up hair, and overall scruffy morning look, she could see why it wasn't difficult for him to score any women he wanted.

"Deadbeat," she huffed. "Get that tent under control, otherwise this'll be the last thing you'll ever do!" she snapped, gesturing to his pelvis.

Dewey's expression took on an innocent one, and he shuffled his waist so the blanket inched closer towards the woman, and more off of him.

"Dewey." Meg warned.

He stood up fully, completely exposed to his friend and First Mate. She shielded her eyes, and fumed.

"Finish up whatever you were doing, and get dressed."

He smiled cheekily, and chuckled as Meg slammed his bedroom door behind her. He loved taunting her, ever since she had taken on the big sister role in his life. He knew he wasn't being fair, in fact, if Meg wasn't there, he would've been dead a long time ago. The Iron Vulture owed Meg all of their successes.

Dewey glanced at the woman he had been with, no real interest in his eyes. She was another one of those people who were obsessed over outlaws and their livelihood. Whenever they docked, the crew had more than enough cronies waiting for them.

And he loved the attention he received.

Mostly women, fawned over Dewey and his position as the captain of the infamous Iron Vulture. He usually got what he wanted, and last night was no exception.

"You should get out of here," he murmured, grabbing a towel. "Unless you want First Mate Crazy to tear you another one."

The woman nodded, knowing that she shouldn't be questioning the captain's orders. She grabbed her clothes from last night, and quietly crept out of Dewey's room.

Dewey smirked, and grabbed his boxers, pulling them on. After brushing his teeth and tidying himself up, he pulled on a loose pair of black breeches, his royal blue doublet, and his most comfortable pair of boots. Fastening his captain's hat onto his head, he headed out the door, only to get kicked squarely in the chest.

"Ow! Meg!" he snapped, rubbing his now sore chest.

"Serves you right, Captain." she scoffed, folding her arms.

Dewey grumbled, but stood up. "Fine, I deserve that. But—"

"But nothing! We needed the crew up early today, but you got everyone too drunk last night! Now everyone's either sleeping or nursing their hangovers."

Dewey grinned. "I guess it's a free day, today."

She scoffed, but bitterly muttered, "I guess it is."

-Duckburg Central Hospital: Present Time-

"Webbigail? Webby!"

A groan was audible as a young woman peeled her face off of a textbook, cringing when she spotted her drool all over it. She perked up when she registered that somebody was continuously calling her name.

"W-what?" Webby mumbled, before rubbing her eyes.

"You fell asleep, again." the voice spoke, obviously concerned.

Webby groaned, and glanced at the woman who had been speaking to her.

"Sorry, Violet. I just… couldn't sleep last night, that's all."

Her vision cleared up, and she shot her friend a sheepish smile once she saw Violet's unamused glare. Webby shrunk under her gaze, knowing that it was difficult to disappoint Violet.

"That's a lie, and we both know it," she spoke as her expression hardened. "Was it another nightmare?"

Webby shook her head. "N-no."

"Was it about… well him?" Violet frowned.

Her friend silently nodded, confirming Violet's suspicions.

"It wasn't a big deal, Vi, I'm fine. Why did you come here?"

She shot her friend a scornful glare, but decided not to interrogate Webby right now. She was usually jumpy after a dream revolving around him, but to see her calm and collected was a pleasant surprise.

"We're doctors, Webby," Violet reminded her gently. "And you can't let your lack of sleep get in the way."

"We don't get sleep anyway," she snorted.

Violet jabbed her finger in Webby's chest harshly. "Which is why we sleep when we can! Not in an office while a patient is waiting for you!"

Webby cringed, suddenly remembering that she was supposed to be checking up on a young boy right about… fifteen minutes ago.

"Do you need to rest?"

"No."

"Do you want to talk about it? The dream?"

Webby sighed. "He was just… here, Violet. Holding me, assuring me everything was okay. And then I woke up, and realized that he's gone. And that's okay."

Violet softened. "I get it, Webbs. But right now, it's about the patients. You need to stop focusing on him."

Webby took a deep breath, and nodded.

"Alright. I'm okay."

Violet knew that was just another lie, but it was better than nothing. She stepped aside as Webby headed towards her appointment, and sighed to herself.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

Violet rummaged through her pocket, and fished out her phone, smiling when she saw that it was her husband.

"Hello, Hubert," she murmured, accepting the call.

"Hey, Vi. What are you up to?"

Violet sat on Webby's chair, frowning. "I just woke Webby from another dream about your brother."

She practically felt Huey's shoulders tense up from where she sat. "A bad one?"

"No," Violet answered truthfully. She had never met him, and even though Dewford Duck was a sore topic for the McDuck Clan, he wasn't a villain. "She dreamt that he was holding her; reassuring her."

Huey sighed. "I don't know what to say, honey."

"She hasn't been sleeping right. Why don't I give Lena a call, and we arrange a sleepover?"

He considered this. "It sounds fun. I'll call Louie, and check with him."

Violet smiled, and checked her watch. "My break is over, honey. I'll see you at home?"

"You'll be doing more than that." he teased, to which she blushed.

"Oh, hush," she snorted. "I love you."

He chuckled. "I love you too."

ooo

After getting the Iron Vulture up into the sky, Dewey took in a deep breath of the fresh air, smiling as he enjoyed the weather around him. It was a perfect day to go out for an adventure. The sun was shining, there wasn't a cloud in sight, and the sky was just itching to send him cloud surfing.

"Captain Dewey, wait!" a shrill voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he turned to see his helmsman looking at him.

"What is it?" he finally responded with a raised brow, wondering why his helmsman looked a little nervous.

"A storm is coming. A bad one," a helmsman told him with a cautious look on her face as she looked at the horizon.

Behind them, the sound of someone scoffing could be heard as footsteps could be heard going up the stairs to the top deck.

"A storm?" an older crewmate shook his head and rolled his eyes as he came walking up to the two. "Please. It's perfect outside. There's not even a cloud in the sky! What makes you think there'll be a storm?"

The helmsman looked down, still not looking sure herself. Dewey recognized her. She had joined the crew not too long ago, and she nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I know it sounds crazy, but I know that a storm's coming."

The older man just scoffed again, clearly not believing her. Before this could go any further, however, Dewey finally decided to step in.

"Okay, that's enough!" he put a hand in the air to silence them before turning to look at his helmsman. "You really think that there will be a storm?"

"Yes, sir," the helmsman nodded, making Dewey frown in thought as he weighed his options.

"I was hoping to at least get some action today," Dewey began thoughtfully as he put his fingers on his chin. "Do you have any idea how long it'll be before it comes?"

"If it comes," the other man rudely interjected, making Dewey give him a sharp look that immediately made him stop. With this taken care of, Dewey turned back to his helmsman and waited for her to say what she was thinking, watching her look between the perfectly clear sky.

"It's hard to tell, sir," she admitted with a frown. "But you probably have enough time to do a little surfing before it finds us."

Dewey grinned and clapped his helmsman on the back. "That's what I like to hear."

Before Dewey could commence cloud surfing, a strong hand yanked him back by his collar and he groaned.

"If there's a storm," Meg's voice cut through behind him. "Then you aren't wasting any time surfing, Dew. We're low on treasure, and those poor families in Cape Suzette are depending on us."

"Wait," the new helmsman cut in. "We don't keep our treasure?"

Dewey shot her a warm smile. "No, we don't…" he trailed off, unsure of the woman's name.

"One-Eyed Linda. But you can call me Linda," she introduced herself.

"Linda," he repeated, nodding. "We don't keep our treasure. We distribute it to families in need. Obviously we keep the treasure we need to fund the crew, but we give any extras to the people in need."

Linda smiled. "I like that."

Dewey turned to Meg. "So what are we thinking?"

Meg reached into her jacket, and pulled out a map. "There's a fleet of bandits living on the outskirts of…" her expression hardened, and she abruptly stopped reading. "Never mind. Instead, we can—"

"Meg," Dewey interrupted. "What were you going to say?"

The First Mate sighed. "There's a band of outlaws living on the outskirts of Duckburg. The Beagle Boys."

Dewey paled at that.

Linda frowned, but decided not to question the captain's visible discomfort with Duckburg. She had always assumed he had come from Duckburg, with his tousled snowy hair, light complexion, and handsome features. He also had dark, piercing eyes, and she usually associated darker eyes with that place.

So, why did the captain seem so uncomfortable with the idea?

His expression quickly changed, and he coughed. "I'm fine with that, Meg."

Meg gave him a questioning stare, but he shook his head.

"They don't pay taxes, and are involved in frequent robberies," Meg told him, referring to the Beagle Boys.

"Perfect," Dewey decided, and the four of them headed towards the Iron Vulture's main hall. He resumed his usual Captain stature and started barking off orders.

"It's time to cast off. I don't care how hungover you are! I want all hands on deck! It's time to find us some more treasure!"

The crew cheered at this, making him grin as he looked at them and felt happy that he had gotten such a good crew. It hadn't been easy to find a crew that was okay with not killing.

Now was the time for them to have some fun.

ooo

A few hours later, Dewey felt rather content with himself as he watched his crew load the rest of their prize into the storage hold. Luckily, Ma Beagle didn't seem to recognize him, even after being held at sword-point. He and his crew had plundered a few other gangs, making him a happy man. The only problem with this, however, was that One-Eyed Linda had been right: there was a storm brewing.

The sky, being completely clear only hours ago, was now completely covered with dark clouds and he could feel the winds picking up, meaning that this would indeed be a bad one. They had made it out of worse things, however, and he felt confident that they could make it out of this one.

And so the ship of quite happy pirates found themselves headed back toward the mainland, hoping to find somewhere to land where they could stay until the storm finished.

"Captain!" his Sailing Master, Ugly Mug called desperately. "This storm's a nasty one! I'm having trouble navigating!"

As if on cue, a bolt of lightning blasted from the heavens, too close for comfort.

Damn it, Zeus. Dewey silently cursed out the old God. The captain eyed Meg nervously, and her message was clear.

"Dock anywhere! This is too risky!"

Before Mug could process that sentence, another bolt split through the heavens, except this time, it did hit their ship. The lights flickered, and eventually, everything went black. The red alarm lights began flashing, and Dewey slipped as his ship began free-falling.

"CAPTAIN!"

Several voices screamed, but he managed to claw his way towards Ugly Mug, who was desperately trying to get the Iron Vulture back up and running. Fortunately, he got some of the power back, and this sent the ship in a more controlled fall rather than a freefall. Dewey gritted his teeth.

"Aim for the water!" he ordered, before making his way out the control room.

"GUYS!" he bellowed. "Try grabbing onto something for support! This is going to be a rough landing!"

The scattering screaming stopped, as the crew finally had something to focus on. Dewey braced himself for the impact.

CRASH!

There was nothing but darkness around him as he felt himself starting to wake up, groaning a little as he coughed and tried desperately to wake up so he could figure out what was going on.

"Patient is waking up," a woman murmured, her voice monotone. "Please get Dr. V in here."

Dewey's eyes slowly fluttered open, and he drank in his surroundings. The room was painted white, and the drone of the EKG monitor told him his heart rate was being tracked. He spotted his clothes on a large chair next to him, tattered and soaking wet. He was currently dressed in a cotton white shirt and light cotton pants.

"Hello, sir," the woman who he had heard earlier greeted.

She looked around his age, and was drop dead gorgeous. She had curly amethyst locks, and dark skin, and the odd colour combination surprisingly suited her. She had dark eyes, and a touch of blue eyeshadow on. She had on aqua coloured scrubs, and loomed over him, smiling warmly.

Dewey glanced up at her, realizing that he had an oxygen mask on. After sliding it off of his head, the girl paled. She flew back against the wall, and scurried out of his hospital suite. He raised an eyebrow, but shrugged it off. Nobody really knew his face as a pirate, and if they did, they certainly didn't react like that.

Another doctor walked in, and he looked more relaxed. "Sorry about that. Dr. Sabrewing was just spooked, because she said you resembled her husband!" he chuckled.

Dewey gaped at that. Her husband? Was there a possibility that the doctor had married one of his brothers? He shook his head. It didn't matter. That wasn't his life anymore.

A nagging memory made itself present in Dewey's mind:

"What age do you guys want to get married?" Louie asked his siblings, aimlessly on his phone.

Dewey was surprised he would ask such a question. "Why?"

"There's this survey on this app, and I was just curious—"

Huey didn't question it. "22."

Both Dewey and Louie were surprised.

"22? Really? But that's pretty young. Like, right after college." Louie pointed out.

"I don't know," Huey smiled thoughtfully. "I just want to be an adult, you know? And after college, getting married should be the next step, right?"

"Not for everyone, Huey," Dewey pointed out. "Uncle Donald and Uncle Scrooge aren't even married."

Huey was quick to defend his point. "But, they have long term girlfriends. Even though Scrooge will deny his relationship with Goldie, they've had that sort of stability."

The brothers glanced at each other and nodded. Huey did have a point there.

"I want that stability in my life. And I don't want to waste my twenties figuring out what I want to do. 22 seems right."

Webby walked into the room. "Hey guys. What are you doing?"

"Just talking about when we want to get married." Louie filled her in.

"Ooooh! My ideal age would be 25!"

"27 for me." Louie smiled lazily. "There's no rush."

All eyes turned to Dewey, and he found himself staring at Webby. "25 for me too."

Dewey shook his head. 22 and married definitely sounded like Huey. Not wanting to focus too much on it, he smiled at the doctor.

"No worries," he nodded. "I… what happened?" Dewey asked, unsure of how he had even gotten to this hospital.

"Your airship crash landed in Duckburg Harbour. Judging by your clothing, I'm guessing you're a…" the doctor trailed off nervously.

"A pirate captain," Dewey confirmed. "But I promise you, we're not violent towards good people. What about my crew? Are they okay?"

That seemed to ease his anxiety about treating a pirate captain, and he nodded his head. "Everyone is in stable condition, except for one man. We were able to identify him. Muggsy 'Mug' Praddlefoot?"

Dewey nodded in confirmation.

The doctor continued. "I'm guessing he was operating the airship, and was hurt pretty badly."

That jarred him. "Is he alright?"

"Dr. V says he'll be alright. We were able to find the identities of most of your crewmates. Is it okay to catch your name?"

"Dewford," he murmured. "My name is Dewford Duck."

He looked up to see the man gasp. "S-so, it's true. Y-you're Scrooge McDuck's nephew. The one that ran away to begin a life with Don Karnage's crew."

Dewey smiled, though there was no malice in his eyes. "Does that bother you, Doc?"

He swallowed. "No. No sir. I… I'll get Dr. V, she can give you a more detailed description of your injuries."

As the doctor left, he leaned his head back into the pillows. He knew his main identity was as the captain of the Iron Vulture, but only a select few people knew that he was closely related to the most influential family in the world.

"Good morning, Mr. Duck." a female voice introduced.

Dewey's eyes fluttered open once again, and he glanced at the doctor. He could only lie there, blinking rapidly in surprise as he took in this new doctor. Sure, he had figured that he would eventually meet her soon, but he hadn't expected her to be so… gorgeous. And familiar. But he couldn't quite place his finger on it.

When he looked at her, he noticed her swallow nervously, before strutting towards him.

"How do you feel?"

He groaned. "Like my insides have been frozen and then microwaved."

She smirked. "Well, that's pretty minor compared to what happens in most plane crashes."

He drank in her features: she looked like any typical Duckburg woman. She had pale skin, and light, wavy hair that reached her mid back. She had dark eyes, and ample bosoms, though he forced himself to look away. The doctor wore light pink scrubs, a white doctor's coat, and a black stethoscope was hung around her neck. She was taller than most women, but seemed to be about a head shorter than him.

"Do I know you?" he asked suddenly, knowing it was inappropriate to ask any doctor that.

To his surprise, she smirked. "You don't recognize me?"

She subtly placed her hand on his bed, revealing a faded friendship bracelet.

All the walls came crashing down.

Dr. V.

Dr. Vanderquack.

"W-Webby?" he asked in shock.

ooo

Well, let me know what y'all think. And no, OTLTA and LOST aren't over. I just wanted to try a captain dew au

see u!

—Jordan :)