()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Drake wasn't entirely sure where that knocking sound was coming from as it slowly brought him back to consciousness, but he wished it would go away. The mattress beneath him was so comfortable and the blankets were so soft. Not to mention the furnace-like heat that was pressing up against his back.

Even without opening his eyes, Drake was able to tell that it was currently daytime; judging by the amount of light he could sense beyond his closed eyelids. Being the nocturnal hero of justice that he was had allowed him to know the difference between day and night when waking up.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound of an actual growl came from the small bundle of limbs in front of Drake. "Grrr...Go away! I'm still sleeping!"

Gosalyn's voice woke Drake up a little bit more. He couldn't fight the small smile forming on his beak as he felt his daughter bury herself further into the blankets; her face pressed up against his torso. She could feel her small fingers holding tightly to his pajama shirt. He was all too familiar with her morning threats after years of having to drag her out of bed so that she would get to school on time.

For once though, he was on Gosalyn's side. Sleep was still desperately clinging to his mind and he didn't have the strength to fully wake up. He knew he should, but he simply couldn't bring himself to care. Not when the warm heat felt so good against his back.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"I am terribly sorry to disturb you, but it is I, Duckworth" came the accented and baritone voice of the house butler. "I was told to inform you that Mr. McDuck will be supplying breakfast down in the main dining room. Feel free to join us at your earliest convenience."

That jolted Drake's brain awake a bit more. Duckworth? Mr. McDuck?

Oh. Right.

They were staying at McDuck Manor. A dull ache in Drake's left hand reminded him of the events that had brought them to the mansion in the first place. Groaning, Drake kicked his legs out began stretching where he lay.

Gosalyn began to mumble darkly about wanting to keep sleeping as she turned away from her father and curled up into a ball.

That was when Drake felt a hand that wasn't his own slide across his waist as a weight he hadn't noticed until that moment lifted off him; the heavenly warmth slowly ebbing away as a large weight behind Drake began to shift the mattress behind him.

Launchpad's arm had been draped across Drake and holding him close and the shorter mallard hadn't even realized that his back had been pressed against the pilot's chest. Drake felt his face immediately warm up with a blush, though he wondered why. It was far from the first time they'd shared a bed together. Perhaps because now they were boyfriends?

Launchpad groaned and moved so that he was lying on his back. "Nah, don't. Pelican's Island is on TV..." he mumbled sleepily.

Drake couldn't stop the soft scoff of amusement escape him. "Wake up, you two." He finally spoke, intending to wake the both of them. He turned so that he could focus on Gosalyn first, since he knew she would be far more difficult to awaken. He shook her shoulder which earned him a grumble of annoyance.

"Nooooo."

"Come on, sweetheart. Time to get up" urged Drake as he forced himself to sit up. He groaned as his back popped as he stretched.

"No!" whined Gosalyn as she curled up further into a ball.

Drake looked down at his daughter and shook his head. He took his hand and gently patted her bottom, which made her jump a bit. "Up! Come on, get up! Mr. McDuck is offering us breakfast. It would be rude not to go down there. He's doing a lot for us, after all."

Launchpad sprung up at the word 'breakfast'. "Buh!? Wha-!? I'm up!" he declared with bleary and half open eyes.

Drake glanced back at his boyfriend and scoffed with a smile. "You sure about that, LP? You still look half dead." He twisted around so that he was facing Launchpad and ran a hand through the pilot's hair, which, without his signature pilot hat on, was sticking up wildly. He paused after a moment, blinking at his own actions. This was not something he had ever done before and yet it felt so natural to run his hand through Launchpad's hair. He noted the blush that formed on Launchpad's cheeks from the action. He knew his own cheeks were red as well.

"Trying to sleep!" groaned Gosalyn.

Turning back to his daughter, Drake said, "I know, which is why I'm talking! I don't want you to fall asleep! Now wake up!"

"No!" whined Gosalyn.

"Yes!"countered Drake as he pulled off the covers. He crawled past Launchpad and Gosalyn to the end of the bed before letting his webbed feet dangle off to the side. He raised his arms and stretched."Now come on! Mr. McDuck is being kind enough to provide breakfast for us!"

"Hmmm! Boy, oh boy! I've missed Mrs. Beakley's cookin'!" cheered Launchpad as he climbed out of bed.

Gosalyn poked her head out from the covers she'd curled back into. "Breakfast!?"

Drake smirked at his daughter, having known that would rouse her from bed. "Yes! Now hurry up!"

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Scrooge walked into his kitchen tiredly, wishing the night had lasted a little longer. After how mentally draining the day before had been, he could have used an extra few hours. However, the sun was up over the horizon, which meant the billionaire was also awake.

Upon entering, he spotted Mrs. Beakley at the stove cooking breakfast.

Seeing him walk in, she greeted him cheerfully, "Oh, good morning, Mr. McDuck!"

Scrooge hummed a monotone greeting. "Aye, good mornin'." He barely glanced her way, instead opting to take in the sight of his nephews sitting at the rounded loveseat in the corner of the kitchen. They were sitting there sleepily with their eyes half closed and waiting patiently for the food they knew was coming.

Donald was standing in front of the table, skimming through the newspaper which Duckworth must have gone grabbed for them. It was obvious that the only reason Huey, Dewey, and Louie were awake and out of their beds was because their Uncle Donald had woken them. If it was not a school day, it was impossible for Scrooge to get the triplets out of bed. Only their younger uncle appeared to have that ability, it would seem.

Little Webby was also sitting at the table, though she looked far more awake than the boys.

"Will Mr. Crackshell be joining us this morning? I'm surprised he's not already down here helping me cook. He loves cooking breakfast. Especially with so many guests staying" Mrs. Beakley continued to prattle on.

Scrooge winced at the mention of his paramour. The young accountant was still in bed after a restless night. Despite Morgana's potion, the tremors and shaking had returned and made it difficult for Fenton to get comfortable. The old miser hadn't been about to find the strength in his old heart to wake him after he'd finally managed to find some sleep.

"Eh, he's still in bed, actually" replied Scrooge.

Mrs. Beakley frowned. "Oh. Is he not feeling well?"

Scrooge shook his head. "No worse than he has been. Nae, just a rough night. I'm sure he'll be up shortly." And if he wasn't, Scrooge had every intention of checking in on him.

Wanting to change the subject, Scrooge walked over to Donald and the triplets. "Morning, boys Mornin', Webby!"

He received three sets of sleepy and barely intelligible greetings.

"Morning, Unca Scrooge" greeted Webby cheerfully.

Donald shook his head at them before greeting his uncle. "Morning, Uncle Scrooge."

"Mornin', Donald. I see yeh managed t'get the boys outta bed" Scrooge commented. He glanced down at the paper Donald was reading, idly wondering if he felt like reading the business section. He decided against it.

"Admiral Grimmits should be here in a little while, Uncle Scrooge" spoke Donald, breaking Scrooge out of his thoughts.

"Oh, eh?" he blinked at his nephew before his words sunk in. "Oh, oh! Very good, Donald! Thank yeh!"

"Do we have any idea when we're going to Vesuvius, Unca Scrooge?" asked Huey, who appeared to be the most awake between the three brothers.

Donald's sharp eye met Huey's as he replied instead, "There is no 'we' boys! I told you! You're not going!"

Dewey hit the table with his fist. "Aww, come on, Unca Donald! We wouldn't be any trouble! Pretty much everyone else is going!"

"Aye!" snapped Scrooge. "Too many, I can assure yeh! But then there are many of us who are part of this ritual, therefore many HAVE to go!"

"I'll bet Darkwing is letting Gosalyn go!" Louie grunted petulantly.

Drake's voice was heard as he walked into the kitchen with Gosalyn and Launchpad in tow. "I just love it when I walk into a room and people and I barely know are talking about me as though they know me" he said sarcastically. He was dressed as a civilian, yet he was wearing his Darkwing mask as one last attempt to keep his secret identity. "What are you saying about me, kid?" He hadn't been sure which triplet had spoken, so he was looking at all three of them.

"Hey, where's your Darkwing outfit?" asked Dewey.

"I can't always be wearing it" reasoned Drake. "Though I did keep my mask on so you won't know who I am!"

"You're Drake Mallard. Uncle Scrooge's new Data Analyst" stated Huey knowingly. Drake's eyes widened in alarm as his mouth gaped open. When Dewey and Louie looked at him in confusion, Huey explained, "Come on, guys! He started the same time all this weird stuff started happening and he's the same size and build as Gosalyn's dad!"

Dewey and Louie thought this over before quietly nodding. "Ahh, yes. Makes sense."

"But-But I-" stuttered Drake, at a loss for words.

"Leave it, lad" said Scrooge with an air of authority. "They know Gizmoduck's secret identity too. They're not about t'blow yer cover. Relax."

"Yeah, ease up, dad! They were bound to have found out eventually with us staying with them and everything!" shrugged Gosalyn, who still looked sleepy.

Drake closed his eyes with a sigh as he face palmed his head. "Fiiine. Now, what were you boys saying about me as we walked in?"

"Oh, we were just saying to our uncles that you'll most likely be letting Gosalyn go with you guys to Mount Vesuvius and therefore he should let us go too!" explained Dewey.

"Keen gear! Will you, dad!?" Gosalyn looked up at her father expectantly.

With wide incredulous eyes, Drake responded with, "I most certainly will NOT!"

Now fully awake, Gosalyn stomped her foot down. "Why not!? Just about everyone else is going!"

"That's what we said!" chimed in Louie.

"Kids, you are NOT going and that is FINAL!" declared Scrooge. He pointed to Gosalyn. "That includes YOU, Miss Mallard!"

Gosalyn gaped at the richest duck in the world before turning to her father as though he would say anything different. "Don't look at me, Gos! I'm with him on this one!"

Desperate, Gosalyn turned to Launchpad. "Launchpad! You're dating my dad, which means you now have a say in my upbringing! Tell them I can go!"

Poor Launchpad, who had just been standing there half asleep and staring into space, snapped his attention down to the young duckling before him. Her words made his face turn red. "Wha-wha-Buh-" That was the most intelligible words he could make out.

"GOSALYN!" hissed Drake as his own face went cherry rd with embarrassment."Stop trying to bully Launchpad into letting you go! Also, us dating does NOT mean he gets any extra say! I'm still your father!"

"Hey! You and Launchpad are dating!?" exclaimed Dewey in surprise. All eyes turned to the blue clad triplet.

Words seemed to be stuck in Drake's throat since he felt like he was choking on them. "I-uh-I mean-um-"

Launchpad, who up until now had remained quiet, cried out in a loud booming voice, "You bet we are!" His sudden exclamation made everyone flinch and turn their attention to him. "Which makes me the luckiest guy in the world!" He grinned widely, looking like a child on Christmas morning.

Drake's cheeks were set aflame as Launchpad's words sunk in. Launchpad sounded so...proud...to be dating him. No one had ever sounded so happy to even be friends with him, let along dating him!

Before anyone else could comment on Launchpad's declaration, Fenton walked into the kitchen. "Happy days! You two ended up together after all!"

Drake sighed, wishing more than anything that everyone would stop talking about his new relationship with Launchpad and just go about their morning. Mrs. Beakley was his savior as she declared that the pancakes she'd been making were finished and she began divvying up the food. Within minutes, everyone was distracted as they got their food.

Scrooge, using the distraction, walked up to Fenton and ran a hand through his head feathers. "Mornin' treasure. Did yeh end up gettin' any sleep?" he asked softly.

Soaking in the attention from his paramour, Fenton shrugged. "A little. I woke up to find you gone, though, which I never enjoy..."

Scrooge hardly looked guilty as it was his turn to shrug it off. "Pfft, I wasnae about t'stay in bed! Not with this many guests in me mansion!"

Fenton nodded before grabbing a plate and joining the rest of the family and sitting down to eat; Scrooge close at his heals.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"Thanks for breakfast, Mrs. Beakley!" thanked Launchpad after his third plate of stacked pancakes. Drake was sitting beside him, having polished off his own single plate of three pancakes, and watched as the pilot shoved another large piece of pancake into his mouth.

"I'll never understand how you can eat so much" he muttered quietly as he watched.

Mrs. Beakley walked over to where Launchpad was sitting and smiled at him. Since there were so many people visiting, Scrooge had decided it would be best to eat in the dining room as opposed to the kitchen's circular loveseat where they usually ate breakfast. "Oh, why you're so sweet, Launchpad! Despite everything going on, at least some good things are happening! Like seeing old friends!"

"Thank you for the food, Mrs. Beakley!" spoke Gosalyn after she finished her plate.

Drake smiled down at her, thrilled at her manners.

"Oh, it's nothing dear! I recall you staying with us a few years ago and remembered you enjoyed my pancakes!" replied Mrs. Beakley as she began collecting the dirty dishes.

Scrooge, who was sitting at his usual place at the head of the table, was blocked from sight from the large newspaper he was quickly trying to read. Fenton, who was sitting on his left, shoved the soggy pancake on his plate; saddened that he wasn't able to eat his usual three pancakes. Not with his current condition. "Scroogey?"

Scrooge merely clicked his tongue as a response. To anyone else, it would seem they were being ignored, but Fenton knew from experience that that was his way of indicating that he was listening. "How long do you think it will take for us to get to Mount Vesuvius?" He had never been there himself, but he knew from the stories he'd heard that Scrooge had been there multiple times.

Turning the page to his newspaper, Scrooge said, "Oh, I'd say at least a day's worth o'sailin'. Mount Vesuvius is off the coast of Italy after all."

"Italy!?" cried out Gosalyn from where she was sitting next to her father. "Aww, come on, dad! Now I HAVE to go! I've never been to Italy!"

Drake, who had been sipping at his orange juice, calmly swallowed and set his glass down with an unreadable expression. "Yes, I'm aware. And sadly, it will be staying that way for quite a while."

Gosalyn leaned over so that she could see Launchpad on the other side of her father. "Launchpad!"

The pilot shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, Gos! I'm with your dad on this one!"

With a grunt, Scrooge closed the newspaper and set it aside, glaring over at Gosalyn. "Even if yer dad DID allow yeh t'come with us, Miss Mallard, my answer would still be NO!" He gestured to Huey, Dewey, and Louie who were sitting on the other side of the table from Gosalyn. "I'm aware yer used t'adventurin' and gettin' dangerous with yer father's lifetsyle- Me own nephews are used to danger as well- but that does NOT mean yeh get t'come with us! It's too dangerous this time! Magica de Spell is not someone t'be taken lightly!"

"Oh, Scroogey! You say such nice things about me when you think I'm not around to listen!" came the familiar shrill voice of the aforementioned witch.

Everyone glanced around in hopes to find her.

"Nyeh, heh heh heh heh heh!" The maniacal, high pitched laughter rung through the air, causing everyone to jump in alarm. Above their heads, a cloud of red smoke appeared before revealing Magica herself floating on her broomstick. Everyone stood and backed away from the table at the same time as she continued to cackle.

"Magica de Spell!" snarled Scrooge as he stepped forward, placing himself between Magica and Fenton protectively.

"Ha! Yes, that is me! Good morning to you, Scroogey!" she teased with a wicked smirk.

Donald angrily rolled up his sleeves as he glared at her. "Get out of here, ya great palooki!" Scrooge hissed at him to be quiet but to no avail.

Magica turned her dark eyes on the sailor. "Oh! It's the handsome one, again! Hello, cute one!"

Donald made a face at her flirting. "Leave my family alone!" He was sure to stand between her and the triplets. Webby ran over to hide behind Mrs. Beakley.

"Gladly!" announced Magica. "Though not before I take what I came for!" With a wave of her hand, Huey, Dewey, Louie, Webby, Gosalyn, Mrs. Beakley, and Donald were all magically lifted and sent flying out of the dining room door; the door then slamming shut in its wake.

"Gosalyn!" shouted Drake worriedly.

The sound of Donald throwing an angry tantrum could be heard through the door as the sailor began pounding on the door. His scratchy voice barely understandable in his rage for being swept out of the room and threatened. "Say! What's the big idea!? You let us back in right this minute!"

Magica glanced over at the door almost fondly as she crossed her legs and continued to float in the air. "You have such handsome relatives, Scroogey. Especially that lucky green clover of a nephew you have-even if his luck does always manage to ruin my plans" she added the last bit in an annoyed mutter.

"Get on with it, Magica!" snapped Scrooge as Fenton cowered behind him.

"Yes, anyways! Now that everyone who isn't a part of my big plans is out of the way-" With a gesture, a bottle; not unlike the ones Magica has used before to gather blood, appeared in her hand. "I've come to collect the last main ingredient I'll be needing for ritual!"

"Over my dead body!" growled Scrooge.

Fenton squeaked in alarm behind him, his hands clasped in front of him. "Eekk! Please don't say things like that, Scroogey, my love!"

Magica smirked and was about to say something when she suddenly ducked on pure instinct. The sound of a plate crashing against the wall echoed throughout the dining room. She whirled around to see Drake brandishing another plate and ready to throw it like a Frisbee at the witch.

"That's quite enough, you fowl fiend! You're outmatched!" projected Drake dramatically.

Magica simply rolled her eyes at him. "Oh, please dah'ling! You are just as pathetic as your doppelgänger!"

Drake blinked at her words, lowering the plate slightly. "My doppelgänger? You mean Negaduck?"

Magica sighed as though being pestered by a young bratty child rather than a hero vigilante. "Yes, yes. So loud-mouthed! So arrogant! The saddest part is-You are both thinking world revolves around yourselves! It doesn't! It revolves around ME! Nyeh heh heh heh heh heh!"

This earned her four identical deadpan glares from the ducks in the room.

"Enough, Magica! I'm not givin' yeh my blood and that's final!" shouted Scrooge angrily.

Magica turned back to the old miser, her eyes wide as she feigned innocence. "Oh! You have deluded yourself into thinking I was going to be asking permission to take it!? Heh heh!" She turned her eyes on Fenton and began muttering a spell, waving her hand before her in intricate movements.

Fenton then gasped, his eyes going wide and his hands went straight to his chest; balling up into fists as the accountant began to feel a sharp pressure. "Ahhhh!" he cried out. "It hurts!"

"Fenton!" shouted Scrooge in alarm, turning around to stand before his paramour.

"Heh heh! That's right, little accountant! You feel it, don't you!? The curse I've placed on your heart!" cackled Magica.

Fenton groaned in pain, doubling over. "Stop it, please! It hurts, Scroogey! The pain in my chest won't stop!" Tears came to his eyes as he struggled to keep standing.

"What the blazes are yeh doin' t'him!?" demanded Scrooge, his voice cracking with panic and worry. "Stop it! Stop it NOW!"

"Oh, I'm merely breaking his heart! LITERALLY! Eh heh heh heh heh heh!" cackled Magica. "Thanks to his connection to the curse, I'm able to physically hurt his heart!"

Another plate was thrown her way; barely missing her by inches. Glancing back to Drake, she shot a spell his way. Drake's eyes widened in fright as a gust of wind sent him flying backwards. The shorter mallard landed on the long dining table and the force of the spell sent him sliding down along it; running into every plate, glass, and bowl along the way. He didn't stop until he fell off the table, hit the chair at the end, and slammed into the wall.

"DW!" cried out Launchpad. The pilot ran to his friend and knelt down next to him. "Speak to me! Are you okay!?"

Drake opened his eyes blearily. "Would you like syrup with that?" mumbled Drake as he saw stars in front of his eyes. Dizzy from the hit, Drake weakly raised a chipped jar that was filled with pancake syrup. He tilted it and out poured syrup all over the floor.

On the other side of the dining room, Scrooge looked back to Magica after having watched Drake get slammed into the wall. "Curse yeh, Magica de Spell!"

"NO!" screamed Magica. She pointed an accusing finger at Scrooge. "Curse YOU, McDuck! For YEARS you have denied me the dime! DENIED me the chance to gain the Midas Touch! YOU brought this upon yourself!" She moved her hands intricately once more and turned her eyes back on Fenton, who began yelling louder in pain.

"Ahhhh! Make it stop! PLEASE!" begged the accountant.

"Yes, Scroogey!" taunted Magica from her place above him. "Make it stop by giving me what I want! Give me your blood WILLINGLY and I will stop squeezing the life out of him!"

Scrooge's eyes widened, his jaw open in despair. "Alright, alright! I'll do it! Just stop hurtin' him!"

Magica, clearly enjoying herself, shook her head. "No!"

Gaping up at her, Scrooge was at a loss for words. He opened and closed his beak several times before finally managing to say, "I'm doin' as yeh asked!" He looked around, spotting a sharp steak knife sitting on the table; one that Drake had not managed to push off during his trip down the table. "HERE!" He grabbed an empty, unused glass from the floor that has miraculously not shattered and set it on the table. With a determined frown, he rolled up his blue sleeve and pushed aside some of the feathers on the top of his arm. Just before he cut into his arm, he said, "For Fenton!"

With a grunt, he closed his eyes and braced himself. The knife slid down against his arm, carving a thin line of red which quickly pooled with blood. It wasn't an extremely deep cut, but enough to possibly need a couple stitches. Awkwardly, he raised his elbow so that his hand was over the mouth of the glass. The blood pooled over the wound and slid down his arm and hand until it began spilling into the glass.

"Oooh, he's going for the arm! I would have thought your wrist would be easier! Or your hand! Less messy!" jeered Magica as she watched gleefully.

Scrooge glared up at her, setting the knife down on the table. "What? And injure meself more than I have to!?" He turned his gaze back down to his arm. "I'd rather me arm be injured than m'hand. Now stop hurtin' him! I'm doin' as yeh asked!"

Magica hummed and waved her hand. Fenton groaned and sighed with relief as the pressure in his chest eased. He slumped to the tiled floor, collapsing in on himself. He breathing was labored as though he had just run a marathon. "Scroogey...You...Shouldn't have to...hurt yourself for me..."

A pained expression crossed Scrooge's face as he continued to add more blood to the glass. "Yer one t'talk, treasure! Yeh never shoulda died for me! Yeh shoulda told me about the Golden Heart's sacrifice!"

Unable to raise his head from where he was curled up on the floor, Scrooge could still see him shake his head. "I just wanted to make you happy..."

Scrooge's beak quivered in emotion as he tried to keep the tears at bay. He didn't want to show such weakness while Magica was there. "Silly, lad" he admonished fondly.

Magica's laughter cut through the tender moment. "Heh heh heh heh heh! You thought he had died!?"

Scrooge's head snapped upwards, his attention fully on her. "Of course I did!"

Magica shook his head. "He came close! Very close! But he never fully died! My curse prevented his death, sure! But death was never something he faced!"

Realizing he had the chance to finally get the answers he's been wanting for months, Scrooge demanded, "Then why was he so-"

"Why did he act like a zombie for so long afterwards?!" finished Magica, already knowing his question. "Simple! Imagine your heart being cursed! Being so close to death is straining on one's soul! Your little accountant lived a half life from those few days after I cast my curse! I had hoped to have controlled him afterwards like a little puppet, but it didn't work out that way! Oh well! I still enjoyed watching you weep and cry after him!" she cackled in a sultry voice.

"Yeh were tyrin' t'control him!?" fumed Scrooge, his arm staying over the glass.

"Yes! That was original plan! He proved difficult to work with so I gave up on that plan! Meh, I've never worked with souls before-I wasn't even sure it was possible!" shrugged Magica as though she was deciding what kind of tea she wanted to brew next.

Drake, who had finally managed to recover from being flown across the room, stood up and rubbed at his aching head. "You're sick, lady, you know that!?"

Magica chuckled. "Why thank you, dah'ling!"

As they spoke, the glass had filled up, slowly but sure. "Is this enough for yeh, yeh wretched witch!?"

Magica floated down so that she was hovering over the table. She lifted the glass that was now filled with blood and brought it to eye level. "This shall suffice." The glass disappeared with a small poof of red smoke.

Just as Scrooge was about to grab a kitchen towel to cover his arm with, Magica reached out grabbed his arm, causing him to shout in pain. She pulled him close, uncaring that blood was getting all over her hand. They were beak to beak; nearly touching, but not quite. They glared into each other's eyes. "Just remember one thing, Scroogey: you brought this upon yourself! Your loved ones are suffering because of YOU, you greedy old miser!"

A glass slammed into the side of Magica's head, making her release Scrooge as she cried out. The glass fell to the floor and smashed.

She turned to Drake and Launchpad and was surprised to see they were simply staring at her in confusion.

"You stay away from Scrooge!" shouted Fenton. He looked exhausted. Bags under his eyes and his feathers sweaty and messy. It was obvious he was using the last of his strength to stand up to Magica the way he was.

Rubbing at the spot where the glass has hit her, Magica scoffed. "Pfft! Please! As I said, he brought this on himself!" She glanced around the kitchen. "Well, I suppose I got what I came for! I shall be leaving now! I'll be seeing you at Mount Vesusvius very soon, Scroogey! You've got three days!"

With a cloud of smoke, she was finally gone.

Donald, who had been banging on the door the whole time, finally managed to break down the door now that she was gone; along with her spells. "ACK!" he grunted in pain she he fell from the extra momentum.

Gosalyn and the triplets ran in past him while Mrs. Beakley and Webby helped Donald stand back up.

"Dad!" cried out Gosalyn as she ran to the other side of the room. The two of them hugged.

"Unca Scrooge!" cried out Huey, Dewey, and Louie at the same time. They all gathered around their grand-uncle; gasping at the sight of blood.

Scrooge took a step back, wishing to keep them from seeing the mess of Magica's aftermath. "I-I'm fine, boys! I swear! Just stand back! I don't wanna get any of this mess on yeh!"

Webby had made her way over to Fenton, who was once again curled up in a ball and still recovering from Magica's attack. "Fenton? Are you okay?" she asked in a small voice as she rubbed the accountant's back.

Trying to show a brave face to the young duckling, Fenton raised his head and smiled. "Yeah, Webby. I'm gonna be just fine."

It was Donald who stepped over and helped Fenton stand on his feet. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by Fenton either, his eyes wide with shock. The sailor spoke softly, "I um...Are you okay?"

Fenton smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Thank you, Donald."

Donald looked away, clearly uncomfortable as he moved his hand away from Fenton's shoulder. He stepped back and rubbed nervously at his arm. "Uh...Don't mention it."

Scrooge had immediately gone over to the sink and began rinsing his arm off in the sink. Mrs. Beakley had been quick to fetch the first aid kit and returned with it swiftly. She began helping the old miser with the bandages.

"What did she want, Uncle Scrooge?" asked Louie as they watched their uncle clean himself up.

"My blood" was the monotone answer. "I was the last one she needed blood from."

Drake crossed his arms over his chest and wore a scowl on his face. "So now she has all the ingredients she needs, right?"

Scrooge closed his eyes in frustration. "Yes. Unfortunately." After securing the last bandage of his arm, he turned to his friends and family. "However, we're gonnae take this battle to her and she won't know what's comin'!" He scowled deeply, more determined than ever.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"Ugh...Quacky..." moaned Megavolt as another bout of nausea hit him. "You never should have made me eat that sandwich!"

The two villains were currently walking down the sidewalk of Duckburg park as the sun shone down on them. Unlike Bushroot and Liquidator, they weren't able to comfortably sleep in the trees and bushes of the park. The two of them had managed to find an old abandoned van to sleep in and also managed to get a decent amout of sleep.

Quackerjack glanced over at his companion with a look that was less than sympathetic. "I ate the same thing you did and my tummy is just fine!"

Megavolt covered his mouth as he burped quietly, his expression showing just how miserable he currently felt. "Well, yippee skippy for you!" he snapped sarcastically. "Not all of us have iron stomachs. Pretty sure what we ate wasn't fully edible."

"Probably not" replied the candid voice of Quackerjack. "Hard to say though. It's fast food. Maybe it was half edible, half not. Point is, it took away our hunger!"

"I'd rather be hungry and starving than feeling the way I am now!" groaned Megavolt, clutching at his stomach as they walked.

"Does the fast food industry have you down? Do you wish you could afford better dining than what the seedy, untrustworthy food corporations have to offer? Then search no more! Liquidator Brand Water can help eliminate any disagreeable fast food chain!" came the bubbly sales pitch voice of their team mate.

Quackerjack and Megavolt stopped walking and looked around themselves. They were in the middle of the park next to an oak tree with a wooden bench situated underneath it. A puddle of the cement sidewalk several feet away inched its way closer before rising up and forming into the liquid figure of the former Bud Flood.

Megavolt sighed. "Sadly, I think even drinking water would upset my stomach further."

"Where did you two eat at?" inquired Liquidator.

"Hamburger Hippo" replied Quackerjack. "You would think here in Duckburg, with ol' rich pants running this place, even places like Hamburger Hippo would have better quality! But nooooo!"

Liquidator shook his head, his ears flopping. "Actually, if anything, their brand might even be worse! McDuck is known for his stingy business! Anything to save a penny!"

"Say, where's Bushroot?"

Quackerjack and Liquidator turned to their sick friend.

"Ahhh, my lovely weeping willow is here! Just look up!" chuckled Liquidator, raising a finger in the air.

Megavolt and Quackerjack did just that and past the leaves and branches of the oak tree, they could just barely make out the purple petals of their fellow criminal's nest of hair.

"What's he doing up there?" Megavolt raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Sleeping! Naturally!"

Quackerjack titled his head to the side, causing the bells at the end of his hat to jingle. "Well, get him to come down from there! It's a brand new day which means there's new games to play!" he whined. He then giggled. "Ooooh! I made a rhyme!"

Elongating his torso, Liquidator raised himself upwards until he was next to where Bushroot was curled up on the thick branch of the tree. He gently ran a hand through Bushroot's petals, taking extra care when he began to tease the little anthers poking out from the colorful nest. He knew how sensitive his floral lover's anthers were.

Bushroot shivered at the touch and pulled away. "That tickles!" he mumbled. Though Liquidator's plan had worked. Bushroot began waking up as he sat up, stretching his vine like arms up into the air and yawning loudly.

"Come on! While we're young!" complained Quackerjack from the ground.

Bushroot blinked his bright blue eyes at Liquidator in confusion. "Oh, morning, Buddy! What's going on?"

"Morning, my dearest flower! It would appear our anxious and impatient companions have found us and are ready to start the day!" explained the watery con.

Bushroot leaned over so that he could see Quackerjack and Megavolt for himself. "Oh, I see. Well, it's probably for the best. Can't be a lazy dandelion all day, I suppose!" He moved so that his roots were dangling off the side of the branch before pushing himself off. He landed in the grass with ease; Liquidator right behind him.

Quackerjack, his arms crossed over his chest, leaned forward and said in a condescending voice, "Oh, how lovely of you to finally join us!"

Bushroot ignored Quackerjack's sass in favor of checking in on Megavolt. "Hey, are you feeling okay, Megs?"

Doubling over from the pain in his stomach, Megavolt shook his head. "No. No, I'm not. Quackerjack insisted we eat from Hamburger Hippo this morning and I'm pretty sure I'm now dying from food poisoning! That stuff they serve is NOT edible!"

Quackerjack rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh, whatever you big baby! I told you! I ate the same thing you did and I feel fine!" His eyes widened in surprise as a sudden burp reached his beak. There was a moment of loud grumbling noises from Quackerjack's own stomach which earned him suspicious glares. "Heh! Alright, fine! But I seriously don't feel NEARLY as bad as you do! We just won't eat there next time!"

Megavolt only grumbled darkly as a way of replying.

"Well, hopefully by the time we make it to Mr. McDuck's manor, you'll feel a bit better" soothed Bushroot in sympathy.

"Oh? Is that where we're headed?" It was Liquidator who had asked.

Bushroot shrugged. "I guess so. I mean, I am still a part of that witch lady's ritual and Mr. McDuck told me to stay nearby. I imagine we'll be getting ready to leave for that Mount...Vesuvia...Vesuvius...place...soon."

"Great! Back to the boring ol' coot's mansion we go! He'd better let us play in his pool THIS time!" fussed Quackerjack like a little child not getting his favorite toy.

Bushroot and Liquidator exchanged skeptical looks as they four of them began making their way to McDuck manor. "Somehow, I highly doubt it" muttered Bushroot.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

The day grew later as the shadows grew longer and a restlessness fell over everyone in the manor. Much to Quackerjack and Megavolt's chagrin, they were still banned from setting foot inside the mansion. They instead opted for exploring the nearby woods that surrounded a good portion of the McDuck property. Quackerjack's attention span was enough to leave Scrooge at his wit's end and he was thrilled when they left. Thankfully Megavolt was starting to feel better now that his stomach had begun to settle, leaving them both in better moods.

Sadly, Liquidator had chosen to stick around since Bushroot needed to stay and wait with them. Despite Duckworth's best efforts, Liquidator managed to sneak inside thanks to his liquid body. Scrooge had glared at the former salesman when he found the liquid canine loitering around in his front room chatting with the mutant plant duck.

"Like a stubborn stain on your new shirt, one does not get rid of the Liquidator easily!" he had declared.

Having far too much on his mind already, Scrooge ignored him.

Someone he didn't ignore was his dazed and quiet young paramour.

The two of them were sitting on the couch in the adjacent room of the front foyer while they waited for Donald to come back with Admiral Grimmits. Scrooge leaned in towards Fenton's ear and whispered gently, "Fenton? Me treasure?" He ran a hand through Fenton's head feathers. "Can yeh hear me?" Ever since Magica's attack, Fenton had been staring off into space and much more subdued than Scrooge cared for.

Heartbreak was all the old miser could feel as he sat there and watched Fenton stare off into space. It pained him heavily to see Fenton act nearly the same way he had several months ago after waking in the cave of the Golden Heart. He knew what was causing it this time though. He had more answers. Magica's curse on Fenton's heart was making him act this way. Her spell from earlier had done this when she had caused him all that pain.

Just when Scrooge didn't think Fenton would answer, Fenton very slowly nodded and closed his eyes before saying, "Yeah...I can hear you, Scroogey..."

Scrooge smiled widely and gave the accountant a kiss on the cheek. "That's good, lad! So good! I feared yeh were gonnae be as comatose like as yeh had been when this all had first started."

Leaning closer to Scrooge, Fenton shook his head. "No. I'm here. I'm just so tired. Everything sounds like I'm far away or hearing everything under water. It feels like everything is in slow motion too..."

Scrooge hummed sympathetically. "Aye, well, just know, I'm here, me treasure. You're safe in the mansion, surrounded by friends and family."

A soft smile appeared on Fenton's beak at the word 'family'. He turned to look at Scrooge. "You really see me as family?"

The question was so soft that Scrooge, who had looked away, barely heard it. "Hmm? Eh, of course, Fenton! Why wouldn't I see yeh as family?"

Fenton closed his eyes and was silent for a moment before answering, "I love the idea of being a part of your family, Scroogey..."

"Aye?"

Fenton nodded, his movements sluggish thanks to the lingering effects of the spell from earlier. "All my life it's only been M'ma and me..."

Feeling bold enough to ask, Scrooge said, "No father in the picture?"

Fenton frowned at the mention of his father. "No. Just M'ma and me." He didn't elaborate, which the old miser found very uncharacteristic of the accountant.

He opened his mouth to say more, but the richest duck in the world was interrupted when Duckworth walked up to them and cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Mr. McDuck. But I thought it wise to inform you that your nephew and Admiral Grimmits have just arrived and are about to walk through the front door." Without waiting for a reply, Duckworth turned on his heel and quickly went to go answer the front door.

Scrooge sucked in a deep breath, bracing himself. He turned to Fenton and said, "You ready for this, lad?"

Fenton nodded. The two of them stood up and walked into the front room.

It seemed Mrs. Beakley and Duckworth had the foresight to rally everyone together, for when they arrived in the room, everyone was gathered around. Drake was now dressed completely as Darkwing, standing next to the Launchpad and Gosalyn. Donald was trying his best to keep Huey, Dewey, and Louie in check over by the great grandfather clock. Webby and Mrs. Beakley appeared to be the only ones absent, not that he minded.

Once Admiral Grimmits was through the front door, everyone in the room went silent and their eyes went to the intimidating figure behind Donald. The shorter sailor, for his part, stepped out of the way so that Admiral Grimmits could walk further in.

Scrooge's eyes widened at his arrival and he stood up from the couch. He smiled at his oldest nephew appreciatively. "Aye, greetings Admiral Grimmits! Thank yeh so much for coming down to meet with me!"

"Same to you, Mr. McDuck" greeted Admiral Grimmits gruffly. "I was told my Seaman Duck here that this was a matter of great urgency." He glanced around the room. "Though it looks more like a family reunion to me."

Scrooge nodded. "Aye. Forgive the crowd. I'm afraid t'say that it's a bit of a long story."

For the next half hour, everyone waited and listened as Admiral Grimmits was caught up to speed on all the current events that had lead them to this moment. Gosalyn, the triplets, and Webby had been sent upstairs during the meeting, much to their chagrin. Liquidator and Bushroot were off in a corner of the room talking amongst themselves while Darkwing and Launchpad listened while looking half asleep.

From time to time, the admiral would break his silence to ask a question or two before allowing to continue.

"So, let me see if I'm understanding this correctly" began Admiral Grimmits once Scrooge was done telling his story. "There are five of you who are part of this..."he trailed off and made spooky motions with his hands. "...Witch spell...And you all need me to take you there aboard my ship? McDuck, I don't think I need to remind you that you are in fact the richest duck in the world. I'm sure you have ships and other sea vessels of your own without needing the assistance of the United States Navy!"

Scrooge, who was sitting in a chair adjacent to Grimmits, frowned and clutched tighter to the top of his cane which he held out in front of him. "No reminder is neccesary, Admiral. However, this is not a normal treasurin' adventure I'm takin'. This is Magica de Spell we're talkin' about. I know yeh know who she is. While she may not have any known contacts with F.O.W.L., she is still on their level of expertise in the matter of villainy. All that aside, she has given us a time limit. Yer naval ship is one of the fastest in the world! Now, please! Will yeh help us!?"

Admiral Grimmits had scowled at the mention of the notorious F.O.W.L.. Sadly he was very familiar with them. Still, his protocols were drilled into his head and therefore he replied with, "I"m sorry, Mr. McDuck. But you need to understand that I can't go off and being a glorified taxi for anyone who asks!"

"But he's NOT just anyone!" snapped Fenton, who had been sitting next to his paramour this whole time.

Grimmits and Scrooge both looked at him in surprise at his outburst.

"He's Scrooge McDuck! Do you really think he would be sitting here wasting your time-also, HIS time-If this wasn't truly important!?" argued Fenton with a determined frown on his beak.

Scrooge couldn't help but smile at the young accountant for speaking up for him.

Grimmits' shoulders sagged in defeat. "Well, you do have a point there, son. I suppose he wouldn't be wasting my time if it wasn't urgent."

"Thank you" huffed Scrooge.

"However, I just have one more complaint" stated Grimmits.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Scrooge asked, "Aye? What is it?"

"This Dr. Bushroot fellow and his accomplices, will not be able to board my ship."

"And why not!?" spat Scrooge.

"Mr. McDuck, I'm not going to lie to you" began Grimmits briskly. "Regulations states that any known criminal aboard our vessel must be immediately taken into proper custody once on shore. So you can see the dilemma here." He glanced over at the Fearsome Four who were watching him nervously. "To allow these four...miscreants...onto the ship would be going against all Standard Operating Procedures."

McDuck rolled his eyes. "Aye! I get it! But as I told yeh before, Admiral, this is an emergency! I can understand not wanting them aboard, but yeh have t'at least let one of them on! Dr. Bushroot must come with us! He is part of this whole mess, I'm afraid!"

Bushroot nervously fiddled with his leaf like hands as he was being discussed. He cleared his throat as he stepped forward and managed to say, "I p-promise I won't be any trouble, mister...Admiral...uh...sir!" He winced at his fumbled wording.

Grimmits sneered at Bushroot as though he was staring at a disgusting fungi. "I'm sorry, Mr. McDuck. Like I said, I cannot allow it."

"What if they were supervised?" suggested Scrooge.

"As in kept in holding cells?" asked Grimmits.

This gained groans of annoyance from both Liquidator and Bushroot, though they thankfully said nothing.

"If yeh haven't noticed already, Admiral, one of them is made entirely of water. While we could freeze him" continued Scrooge with a glare towards Liquidator. "There is a chance he would still break out. Once he's out, he'd free his friends. Despite bein' criminals, they are a loyal lot among themselves it would seem."

The two mutants glanced at each other at these words, realizing how true they were. They were friends, after all. They had their arguments and disputes, but at the end of the day, they stuck together.

"If Dr. Bushroot goes, which he needs to, as I already mentioned, I'm afraid they'll all insist on going. But nae, my idea was actually to give them someone to watch over them at all times."

Admiral Grimmits shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't have enough staff to enlist anyone for such a job. Everyone has too many of their own duties!"

Scrooge nodded with understanding. "What if I told yeh I had someone who could watch them?"

"Who!?" demanded Grimmits.

"Darkwing Duck" stated Scrooge with confidence.

Darkwing, who had been sitting and listening in the background, squeaked at the mention of his name. "Huh? I'm doing what now?" His eyes were wide as he looked between the admiral and rich duck.

"Darkwing Duck?" scoffed Grimmits. "You mean that purple caped clown I've heard about from St. Canard?"

"I am NOT a clown!" snapped Darkwing as he stepped up to stand next to Scrooge. He glared up at the Naval Officer. "I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the hero who stops evil doers and protects the city of St. Canard!"

"A hero vigilante?" asked Grimmits, clearly unimpressed. "You know that's illegal, right, son?"

Two sets of snickers could be heard as Liquidator and Bushroot did their best to cover their laughter at Darkwing's suspense.

Darkwing simply continued to scowl up at the taller canine. "I'll have you know, I'm not just some jumped up fan boy looking for fame! I'm an actual consultant to S.H.U.S.H.! I'm on the S.H.U.S.H. payroll, if you MUST know!"

"Really?" chimed in Scrooge. "Yeh failed t'mention that when yeh whined and fussed all those times over a lack of a paycheck!"

Darkwing turned back to his employer and grumbled, "I'm only on their payroll when they have assignments for me to do which they have not HAD for quite some time! I'm only paid for missions! I can't even remember the last time they assigned me a said mission!"

"Can't imagine why" drawled Scrooge in sarcasm.

Darkwing growled and gritted his teeth as Launchpad finally stepped in and placed his hands on his shoulders. "Aww, gee, lighten up, Mr. McDee!" He turned to Admiral Grimmits. "Listen, all DW here is trying to say is that he can watch over the Fearsome Four while they're on the ship! He's dealt with them loads of times and knows how to stop them if they get out of hand!" He looked up and found the two villains giving him raised eyebrows, making a pilot nervously chuckle. "Heh, but they won't! They're villains, but...Seriously, they're not the worst. Especially if you stay on their good side!"

"Now there's a man who knows how to get an audience's attention!" gurgled Liquidator approvingly.

Grimmits still looked far from convinced so Scrooge stepped forward once more. "Please, Admiral" he began in a softer tone. "I wouldnae be askin' yeh fer this it wasn't gravely important. Dr. Bushroot must come with us. Sadly, that means his companions WILL find a way to sneak aboard. I would rather they be there as guests than stowaways, wouldn't yeh agree?"

Grimmits sighed, his broad shoulders sagging under the constant demands. He used two fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You're really not going to let this go, are you, Mr. McDuck?"

Scrooge shook his head. "I'm really not." He gestured to Darkwing, who puffed out his chest and crossed his arms to look intimidating. "So, allow Darkwing t'be the one t'watch over the Fearsome Four during their stay upon the ship. You said yourself it would not be a long trip since the ship is such a fast vessel!"

Grimmits nodded, remembering his own words. "Alright, McDuck. I'll allow this. Just this once!"

Scrooge nodded congenially. "Thank yeh, Admiral Grimmits."

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()