Huey felt like he was losing it. He was tired but was afraid. He was afraid of sleeping. Well, not the action itself, but maybe the darkness. He was afraid of the dark. It was a new paranoia he had developed who-knows-when that led him to borrow glow-in-the-dark stickers from Webby and pasting it on his wall. It was silly, he knows. Sometimes, he wouldn't even sleep. When it was bedtime, he would excuse himself and go to the library, and there, he would read all night, making sure every corner was bright and there were no areas that reminded him of the unconscious abyss.
His folks started to notice the bags he has under his eyes and how much intake he has of coffee. "Huey, are you alright?" his Uncle Donald asked, surprising the young red-cladded duck. It was the fact that his uncle could walk so silently that he found it surprising. It also worries him. What if he wasn't as attentive as he was before? What if he was never attentive? Did he miss details? What important life-changing details did he miss because he wasn't attentive enough?!
Huey didn't realize a hand was put on his shoulder until it's gripped tightened on his shoulder. "Huey, what's wrong?" Donald asked, kneeling down to meet his nephew's onyx orbs. He saw fear and distress. What was he afraid of? "Huey, you're shaking," Donald informed, trying to get the boy's attention on him and only him. "Tell me, what's wrong, please Huey," Donald said, begging him, shaking him trying to get his head back in the present.
Huey stopped shaking. His breath evened and he finally looked at his uncle's eyes. His beautiful blue eyes were like the ocean, where his heart belonged, and right now, his ocean was in a storm, clouds pouring their hearts out as the sea shakes, dancing with the strong wind, ignoring the chaos around them. But he isn't ignoring Huey's chaos. He wanted to be in the chaos; help calm the chaos.
"But you shouldn't," the voice said. And it wasn't any random voice, it was Scrooge's voice. He felt cold arms wrap around him, or maybe it was just the air, but whatever it was, it was the cold. Cold, like the depths of the ocean.
"You couldn't," the voice said, and it was right. He couldn't tell Uncle Donald. Even if he wanted, the words would be stuck in his mouth and all would come out would be choked sobs and incoherent words, making him look weak, and pathetic, and unworthy.
"Nothing," Huey replied as he removed his uncle's hand off of him, "nothing's wrong." Huey forced a smile, trying to show he was fine, but he knew it was in vain. His uncle knows. Normally, he would more than love it for his uncle to help him, but in this situation, he can't. In his mind, Uncle Donald would make him worse; would make him too dependent, and he wants to build an image for himself, step away from anyone's shadow and be his own person. And relying on someone else to fix his inner problems would break the small process he made for himself.
Donald frowned. He did not like it when his nephew would lie to him. He would make a pass if it was for a good reason, but this was no good reason. Huey just had a panic attack, he's losing sleep, and he suspects that he has some addiction to caffeine. "This is not nothing," Donald said. His voice was firm but he didn't shout.
Huey starred, terrified as his Uncle rose from his kneeling position and frowned at him. Images of what will happen next flashed through Huey's mind and most of them involved physical contact. He shielded his face, hoping it would lessen the impact he'll be receiving.
Donald watched as his nephew cowers before him. He was cowering because of him. He fears him. Donald could hear his heart shatter. It hurt. Someone you had raised, cared for, and loved for was now fearing you, afraid of what you'll do to him. He would never do anything to Huey, or to any of his kids. He never raised a hand to them. Never. So why would Huey think he would start now?
Donald knelt again. He slowly reached out to gently grab Huey's hands and slowly intertwined them with his. The boy was shaking again.
"Huey…" He started, trying to be as gentle as possible, and trying not to cry because seeing his boy like this broke his heart. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Donald watched as his nephew stopped shaking. Huey's eyes landed back on his uncle, but something was different. Huey's eyes weren't those beautiful and curious onyx orbs he would normally see. He saw coal. Ashes. Cold and forgotten. What happened to his boy?
"I… I know… Uncle Donald… I…" Huey stuttered, trying to form his words together but can't. His gaze only fell to the ground and Donald could feel his hands slipping away from his. He wanted to grab on and never let his boy go, but he can't. He could only watch in dismay as they retreated back and held onto the little book Huey kept under his hat. "Excuse me…" Huey said, walking away from his uncle in the most casual but fast way he could. He wanted to run, slam his door shut, and cry, but he can't.
He can't.
He can't do anything right.
He can't do anything worth doing.
He can't.
He just can't.
He wondered why he had agreed to this.
A while ago, he was reading in his room a novel his uncle got him when he was small. It had a calming aura to it and certainly kept the voices away. During his reading, he can't help but miss Uncle Scrooge's voice. Not the ones that terrorize him, but the voice that told him that he was proud. Now that the moment had passed, he realized how precious it was. He took it for granted. Then Lena came jumping through the window.
Her eyes immediately landed on the duck on top of the highest bed. The red-cladded duck was confused, but he assumed she was here to stir trouble and invite them along. "Hey, have you seen Greenie, or Webs? Maybe the blue kid," Lena asked. Huey shook his head.
Come to think of it, he hasn't seen Louie often inside the house. Nor Dewey. Have they made more friends? Sigh, as expected. No one wanted to be friends with him. A boy trying to act like a robot. Even Boyd was more real than him.
Lena shrugged. "Okay. Guess you'll have to do then," Lena said, confusing the red-clad duck. "Grab something that'll keep you warm and a mask and let's go," Lena instructed. Huey was more confused and was about to question, but Lena clapped her hands and exclaimed, "move! Move!"
Huey complied but did not know he would be out in the streets vandalizing private property with this girl.
Lena handed him a purple spray can and smirked. "Wanna try?" she dared, a glint of mischievousness sparkled in her eye.
Huey backed away from the can and shook his head. "No. No, no, no," he protested, "this is wrong."
He pulled his maroon hood over his head, trying to blend in with the shadows and pray no one sees them. This was wrong. He shouldn't be breaking the law. He knows that he can't do anything right, but that doesn't mean he should be doing the opposite.
"Hey," Lena started, getting annoyed with Huey's attitude. Maybe it was a mistake to bring Huey. But, she has no other options. She didn't want to invite Violet because she might tell their dads and she doesn't have that many friends she stayed in touch with over the years. Why did she consider Huey? Because she sees potential. That good boy facade sickens her and she wanted to see another side of him, maybe something similar to the side she saw in Istanbird. But now, she almost regrets her decision to tag Huey along. She was hoping to let him break out of his shell, but this little nut is a bit stubborn.
"Why are you being such a wuss?" Lena dared.
Huey shot back at her and glared. "I am not a wuss!" he exclaimed in the most hushed voice he could. He just wanted to go home and curl up in his bed. He did not want to be a part of this, and he did not certainly want to be caught.
"Then why don't you prove it to me?" Lena said, challenging him as she extended the spray bottle to Huey.
Huey was about to grab it, to show Lena that he wasn't a scared kid. But he can't. He retreated his hand, much to the dismay of Lena. But then, Lena felt something spark in his aura, a sudden shift like how the templates of the Earth move and cause earthquakes. The anger bubbling inside Huey melted into a puddle of disappointment, but not at Lena, but at himself.
Huey looked away, away from Lena, and he began to speak, "it's not about proving you, it's about me not being able to do it."
Lena paused. She was not expecting that answer, but it explained a lot of how he was acting recently. According to Webby, she would see him in the library until the next day with a bigger stack of books and Lena just noticed the bags under his eyes. Huey must be going through something, and maybe doing something illegal wasn't the best option as of now.
She sat down, a few inches away from the duck, and prepared herself to listen. She set the spray down and then all of her attention is to the younger duck. She began, "what do you mean?"
Huey's head was screaming for him to not tell her, that she would never understand, but he couldn't help it. Possible outcomes and her reactions played in his head and it brought him to tears to think of what he would say, about how she'll react. He was a mess, and he knows it. He was ashamed that he'll show it.
"I... I'm wrong…" Huey started, but his eyes were already watering. It wasn't the best opening, but just admitting that out loud made some sort of comfort for Huey. He lowered his mask so he could be able to breathe more, but his neck shivered at the sudden exposure of the cold air. "I'm wrong… I can't… I can't do anything… anything right… I… I feel like I should do… something… Something useful, something… something worthwhile… but I can't," he was choking and sobbing in his sentence. He wanted to look at Lena to see what her reaction was but he was afraid, so he kept going on, "I… I don't deserve to be… to be part of a family… a family that's so… so great… and awesome… I don't deserve to be spared a glance… But… But I want them to notice me… I want them to take… take care of me… But I… I can't tell them… I don't… I can't… I don't want them to know how… how weak… and pathetic I am… I don't… I can't!"
By the end of his sentence, he was bawling his eyes out, and his sentences became incomprehensible. Huey wanted to be invisible but the center of attention. Huey wanted to bottle his emotions inside but shout it at the world and blame it for everything. But he can't. He wants to do so many things right now, but he can't, and it hurts.
Huey felt warm feathers wrap around his little body and he just leaned in it. He cried into Lena's jacket, trying to muffle his cries as he poured it all out. Lena rubbed soothing circles on Huey's back and let the red boy cry his heart out.
She knows how this goes. She went through the same thing. Maybe not entirely, but similar. She had no one when she needed a shoulder to cry on and her aunt only ridiculed her for being weak. Seeing Huey now, she wanted to be that shoulder for him, the one she never had.
She cradled Huey in her arms as his tears began to run out but his sobs were still as loud as ever. He was a mess and he was embarrassed by it, but he was so, so grateful Lena offered this. He was grateful she listened. He was grateful she hadn't said a word. And he was grateful Lena didn't push him away.