Introducing Lost! My new fic! I've been working super hard on this, and I've put my other big project to work on this fic :) I've teased you guys with small drabbles, but now, it's finally here! It's not entirely finished, but I've got the first handful of chapters ready! I'm happy with it, and I'm glad to be sharing it with you guys :))

It's been a long process, and here's chapter 1 :)

Dewey Duck had made a mistake—he was young, dumb, and heads over heels for his best friend, fueled by nothing but his anger and pain. Years later he was still dealing with the aftermath of what he did to her, his brothers, and his friends. He was incredibly lost, alone, and filled with guilt. Would he ever find his way back home again?

ooo

Life can show no mercy.

"Uhm," Dewey faltered, his eyes once again falling onto the nasty apartment in front of him. He swallowed thickly, his hand automatically coming up to rub the back of his neck, subconsciously protecting his vulnerable skin. He hated house hunting… almost as much as he hated his current life. "Look, uh it's a great apartment but, uh—"

"Bills all included, cable, phone..." the man listed, and Dewey could've sworn he smelled a hint of marijuana in his sour breath.

"It's a tempting offer, really," he lied, ripping his eyes away from the disgusting apartment to address its homeless-looking owner. "It's a nice place you have here, but, uh just not the one for me. Thanks for showing me around though. I appreciate it."

"Sure, whatever," the guy shrugged, following him to the door. "Your loss."

The wooden door closed firmly in his face, and Dewey resisted the urge to kick the innocent door frame in frustration. Damn it, it had looked so promising in the advertisement. Why was it that every stupid apartment in this stupid city was either already taken, or had weird freak-ass roommates? Finding an apartment in Duckburg was proving a lot harder than he'd remembered. What was he even doing here? Risking coming back? Man, he should have just stayed safely in Cape Suzette—if he had known his most recent promotion also meant that he would have to move cities, he would have politely declined the 'offer of a lifetime'.

With another heavy sigh, he pushed his self-loathing aside, and left the grubby landing. He took the stairs quickly, and walked out onto the unfamiliar street. Dewey paused, taking in his last few breaths of fresh air, before reaching into his pockets for his packet of cigarettes. He felt a twinge of guilt: nobody knew about his dirty little habit.

Of course, nobody cared.

Placing one between his lips, he lit it easily, stuffing the lighter back into his pants. His eyes swept around his surroundings, debating what to do with himself now he wasn't sorting out moving like he'd hoped.

It was Saturday, around lunchtime, and a familiar sense of loneliness started to creep through him. He knew he was faced with spending the rest of the day completely alone, just like he had last night, and just like he would tomorrow. God, he hated weekends: they constantly reminded him just how empty his pathetic life had become. It was when he had the most time on his hands, he was forced to think and reflect on the actions that had taken him to this exact moment. Dewey hated that even more. No matter how hard he tried to forget, and no matter how hard he tried to push down his guilty memories, he always lost the battle.

Not wanting to face the oppressive silence of his empty hotel room, he decided to try and make the most of the nice weather, and take a walk. Amongst the Duckburg crowd, and the fast-paced Saturday shoppers, he didn't feel so isolated. He wouldn't stand out as a loner. He could pretend he was going somewhere, pretend he had a purpose, or a life: people wouldn't judge him.

Dewey wandered aimlessly, eventually finding himself at the entrance of the familiar beach. His eyes gazed towards the horizon, and there stood the Money Bin, just as tall and proud as he remembered it. He paused, staring at it for a long moment, and memories of a different life started to flutter at the edge of his consciousness: the life he tried so desperately to forget. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to block out the images of his younger, smug self. A time when days couldn't be long enough, when he had best friends, two wholehearted brothers, and a carefree life he'd loved. His life before it had all gone so horribly wrong.

God, it was all so different now.

Frustrated at his traitorous thoughts, he threw the finished smoke onto the ground, squishing it underneath his shoe, forcing himself to walk forward and down the sandy terrain. Small waves lapped up against the shore, but none too big enough to reach his feet. He hadn't stepped foot on this beach for years, 3 years to be precise. He'd avoided it since he'd returned to the city a few weeks ago. It was just too dangerous, and too close to his past sins. However, it was a fairly large beach. Hundreds of people were here, enjoying their Saturday. He'd be fine. Besides if he was going to live in this city again, he couldn't avoid this beach forever, and the odds of running into anyone he didn't want to were slim.

There were only five people here he needed to avoid: five people out of the 316,000 that were currently crammed into Duckburg. It was a big place, and as long as he stayed clear of certain old haunts and hangouts, then he'd be alright… he had to be. Dewey kept the thought in his head. He wouldn't bump into them. He wouldn't see them. Hell, maybe they weren't even in the city anymore… maybe they had all moved on as well.

He swallowed, as a familiar pain rippled through him. Dewey hated that thought. Hated that their life had, no doubt, continued on without him, and probably for the better.

Not that he could blame them.

They deserved better than him.

She had deserved better than him, so much better.

He wondered if they ever thought about him. Even after all this time had passed? He was torn apart between hoping they didn't, so there was no more pain, and they had closure. But a small part of him hoped she still did, and that by some miracle, she didn't hate him. Might even forgive him one day…? No. this wasn't helping him. Shaking his head fiercely in frustration, he started to quicken his pace. He couldn't think about them, couldn't theorize how they had spent the last few years. More importantly he couldn't think of her. He'd given up that right years ago.

So why though did it still hurt after 3 years?

Why did he still have to live with the pain and guilt every single day?

3 Years Ago

"Dewey! There you are!" Webby exclaimed.

He stopped talking to the bartender as she wrapped herself around him, her arms at his waist, her head resting so easily against his shoulder, like it was made for her.

"Hey," the 20 year old grinned, amused, allowing himself for just a moment to enjoy the feel of her body pressed to his, and the smell of her perfume that was now surrounding him. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she pulled back slightly from his embrace, offering him a beaming smile. "I'm more than okay actually, much more."

"Yeah? What's brought this on?" he asked curious, trying to ignore the way his heart sped up a little because of that amazing smile. Her smile was one of the first things he'd fallen in love with, and it hadn't taken long for him to fall in love with the rest of her.

"Well," she accepted the drink from the bartender with a nodded thanks, taking a sip of the alcohol, which Dewey seriously doubted she needed. Webby seemed pretty tipsy already.

"Well?" he pried, as she played with her yellow plastic straw.

Webby bit her lip, ducking her head a little, and Dewey was totally endeared by her.

"It's silly."

"Then it's your lucky day, as I happen to like silly," he teased, nudging her gently. "Tell me." She still seemed a little hesitant, and he frowned. "Webbs, it's me," he reminded her softly, "you can tell me anything, and you know that."

"True," she mused, biting her lip. "Okay, but," she raised a pointed finger at him in warning, "you can't tell anyone… anyone, Dewford Duck."

Dewey used his own fingers to cross his heart. "Come on, don't make me pinky-swear, too."

"Okay," she chuckled. "Okay, well," she looked around to ensure none of the gang were within earshot. "See, I've, uh kinda got a little crush on someone," she admitted, blushing instantly.

"W-what?" Dewey jolted in surprise, his heart starting to pound in his chest, he hadn't expected that. Did she know about his feelings? Had he given something away?

"Yes, but you can't tell anyone, they'd totally flip out." Webby giggled.

"As long as it isn't Huey, I mean he is dating one of your best friends." he chuckled nervously. It always surprised him that Huey had managed to find a stable relationship, much less a stable relationship with Violet of all people.

She snorted, a hand landing on his chest, stroking slightly, "Oh Dew." The hand stayed there, and Dewey briefly wondered if she could feel the hammering of his heart underneath; it felt like it was about to burst from his chest, and shoot across the room. "It's not Huey, that would be weird," she moved her hand from his chest, but instead of disappearing, it landed on his thigh, patting it, and lingering, her sparkling eyes meeting his.

"G-good," he stammered, his stomach fluttering. It felt so surreal, "So, uh, who is it?"

"I don't know if I should tell you of all people," she admitted, her hand still burning his thigh. "It might be weird. It's… it's actually one of the group."

His breath hitched in his throat, "I-I…"

He didn't want to hope. Desperately didn't want to hope. Things like this didn't happen to him.

"And no, it's not Louie before you ask, you know that he's dating Lena." she chuckled, the hand on his thigh rubbing slowly.

His heart started to beat rapidly in confused anticipation. "T-then that leaves…?"

Please dear god, that left…

"Max!"

He froze.

"Max?" he managed to choke out as disappointment, and disbelief flooded through him. Both Webby and Dewey had met Max last year, when he came to Duckburg to attend college. He and Max were currently roommates.

Webby giggled. "Yeah, but you can't tell anyone, promise?"

He couldn't promise, he was still trying to process this unexpected, and very unwelcome information, his mind spinning.

"Max?" Dewey eventually repeated, stunned, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Really? Max?"

God, it hurt. He hadn't realized how much it would, but it did. A dull ache was already spreading slowly across his chest, as reality began to dawn on him. Webby had a crush on his roommate.

"Dewey," she removed the forgotten hand to whack his chest clumsily. "Stop making fun of me, yes I like Max, okay?"

It wasn't okay. How could it be?

"I mean I really really like him," she continued, unknowingly increasing the pain in his chest. "As in, I can't stop thinking about him, like him."

"Okay, I get it, you don't have to paint me a picture," when in reality, he really didn't get it. Not at all. How could she like Max? Dewey silently berated himself for getting his hopes up for even the briefest of moments. Idiot. How could he have thought someone like her would ever want to be with him? Pathetic, immature him.

"He's just so… sweet," she started telling him, although he definitely hadn't asked, and desperately didn't want to know. "He's good-looking, smart, brave—"

"Brave?"

That one got him. She found Max brave and not him? He was the brave one of the group, it was his thing, the only thing he had. He always tried to show off in front of her, and she always awarded him with one of those smiles, or rich laughs.

"Yes, brave," she protested good-naturedly, "Although, obviously not as brave as you," she smiled. "He's got a good sense of humor, he's in school, and he's studying to become a lawyer! Granny's going to love him."

"Yeah, she will…" Dewey muttered softly, reaching for his drink, wishing this conversation was already over. He needed it to end.

The sad truth was that Max was actually a good guy. He was all those things Webby had just said which only added to his dilemma: he was studying to become a lawyer, he was quite brave, and his looks? Dewey sighed. His messed up jet black hair, and the mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes were enough to make any woman go gaga over him. Not to mention, his father, Goofy, and his Uncle Donald were quite close.

"Do you think he likes me? That he'd go out with me?"

Dewey wanted to lie, he really did. He wanted to tell her to forget about Max, and focus on the other roommate that had been secretly in love with Webby for almost a decade. But he couldn't do that. He couldn't risk ruining this friendship, and getting his heart rejected, especially now he knew his feelings were definitely not reciprocated. Besides—as he constantly told himself—it wasn't love. It was just a crush. She was allowed to date whoever she wanted, he'd coped before, and would cope again.

"Dewey?" she prodded.

"R-right, sorry," he tried to calm himself down but he could feel his walls starting to crumble as the dull ache intensified. Why did it hurt so bad? He just hadn't expected this tonight, had been unprepared for it, and his heart caught off-guard. That was all. "Who, uh, wouldn't want to date you?" he admitted honestly.

Webby offered him another huge grin, her warm hand patting his cheek. "Lots of people, but thanks Dewey. You always know the right thing to say to make me feel better."

"You're welcome," ironically, her words seemed to twist that knife in his chest a little deeper.

"Think I should ask him out tonight? You know, while I've got the nerve, and the right blood alcohol level to actually go for it?" she suggested, and Dewey swallowed, pushing down his gut response.

"I, uh, I think he already went home," he said, trying to keep the trembling under control, and out of his voice.

"Even better," she smiled as she stood up, pushing her drink towards him. "Here you can have the rest of this on the condition you don't come upstairs in a hurry," she giggled, totally missing his grimace. "I'm not saying anything will happen, he might not even be interested but try not to interrupt anything," she winked. "Thanks Dew, you're the best," she pressed her lips to his cheek, and the knife sliced completely through him. "Wish me luck."

He didn't, but she didn't seem to notice. Webby was hyped up, and too focused on her new mission to notice the man she'd left falling apart at the bar. The blue triplet just stared, watching as she grabbed her coat, and bounced out of the door. As the door closed behind her, he continued to stare, completely lost. Had that just happened? Was this real? He prayed not, and hoped that this was some sort of result of mixing his drinks. He wanted to wake up tomorrow, only to find out that it was just some twisted part of his subconscious playing a cruel joke on him.

Webby and Max?

ooo

The next morning, he crawled out of bed, his head and stomach vaguely protesting at the movement. He remembered drinking a fair bit the night before, in an attempt to try and ignore Webby's drunken confession. Had she been serious? Had she talked to his roommate? He really hoped not, really hoped it had been a misunderstanding, or maybe Max wouldn't feel the same. He'd never mentioned liking Webby, but then again neither had Dewey. Dewey had kept his forbidden crush a secret, hoping that it would pass, would just be a phase… but he'd been telling himself that for 10 years.

Running a hand through his bed hair, he pushed open the door, both relieved and panicked to see his roommate munching some toast at the small rickety kitchen table.

"Good morning, Sunshine," Max greeted with an amused grin. "You look like crap. Rough night?"

"Something like that," he grunted, padding over to join him. "You?"

As much as he dreaded it, he had to discover the outcome.

"I had a rather surprising night," he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows, "Get this! I was about to crash out, when Webby comes in, and announces she wants to date me!"

She had done it then. Dewey tried to ignore his sinking stomach as his shoulders slumped.

"Cool," he tried lamely, hoping the other man would put his lack of enthusiasm down due to his hangover, but Max didn't catch on.

"Wild, right? I mean, I never would have thought someone like that would have been interested in me! It's crazy."

"Definitely crazy, alright," he muttered, trying his best to keep the bitterness out of his tone.

Max shrugged. "I never really thought about it you know? She's just the girl across the hall, in our friend group. But she's offering, so I thought why not?"

Dewey felt his heart constrict a little but he tried to shake it off. Webby deserved to be with someone that would cherish her, someone that had been longing for her.

"We're going out tonight," Max continued, oblivious to Dewey's misery. "To see how it goes but… well, I probably shouldn't say anything as I'm a gentleman and all, but you're my roommate," Max grinned. "I already know Webby and I have great chemistry. I mean, I know she was a little tipsy, but she was suddenly all over me man! We didn't go all the way, but she's damn feisty when she wants to be, and she's so damn hot."

Dewey just closed his eyes, not wanting to hear this. "Dude, that's our friend you're talking about. Don't forget Lena's going to play the overprotective card."

"You know, I don't mean anything by it, Webby's cool. It's just I never realized how good a kisser she'd be, and man, she's got a fine body."

"Max—"

"Plus, I figure Lena can't get mad! Webby's the one who's throwing herself at me right? It's not my fault she likes me. I'm the innocent party here."

"I guess." he muttered.

Over the years, he'd often wondered what Lena's reaction would be if he discovered Dewey's real feelings towards Webby. He'd gone through various scenarios in his head but none ever ended well. Occasionally he'd let himself imagine that by some miracle she was dating him, and they had to break it to Lena. Again, it had never concluded positively.

"Anyway, I've gotta go, I said I'd take my mom out for lunch because I didn't get to see her last week." Max smiled.

"Of course." Dewey said wryly.

As Max grabbed his jacket, the apartment door opened revealing a shy, and very cute looking Webby. Dewey took her in, appreciating her, until it dawned on him she was staring the same, dopey way… but at his roommate. Webby and Max were actually making eye contact at each other. It was like some twisted parallel universe, and he didn't like it, but also couldn't bring himself to look away.

"Hey," she smiled, biting her lip, and Dewey frowned.

"Hey you," Max grinned, walking over to her, placing his hands on her cheeks as he pulled her in for a quick kiss.

Dewey's already unsettled stomach lurched as he watched their lips meet, the reality that this was actually happening started to sink into his thick skull.Webby and Max. They were going to date, and he was going to have to watch them. He shifted uncomfortably, averting his gaze as he tried to ignore his inner thoughts. They were adults, they were allowed to date. He'd have to find some way to deal with it until his own crush got the wake up call, and moved on.

It was just a silly crush.

"I've got to go, I'll see you later babe! You too Webby," he winked, chuckling as he confidently strode from the apartment.

Dewey held up a hand as a vague wave as he left, before looking over to Webby. She looked beautiful, a soft warm look on her face. He stared at her and an unwelcome pang of longing went through him, unsettling him. She wasn't his.

"Isn't this great?" Webby practically squealed, dancing over to him, and hugging him. "Me and Max!"

"Yeah," his throat was dry as he resisted locking his arms around her, and not letting her go.

"I can't believe this is happening," she continued, and he resisted commenting. "Thank you, Dewey."

He frowned. "What did I do?"

"You gave me the confidence to actually go for it, silly. I'd never have had the courage to talk to him unless it had been for you! And now we're actually going on a date! It's so exciting! I better go decide what to wear… maybe Lena will have something. Thanks again, Dewey. I owe you one."

She pressed a kiss to his cheek before turning and leaving, not noticing the disbelief on his face as the irony kicked in. Alone in the apartment, he buried his face into his hands, closing his eyes, and groaning. He must have done something really really crappy in his past life to be getting punished this way. The girl he wanted was now dating his roommate, and not only was he going to have to hear about it, and no doubt see it, it turned out he was to blame.

He felt a sharp pain rise in his chest, but tried to push it down. He didn't want to understand what it meant right now.

He just had to accept the situation and move on, he didn't have a choice.

Webby had chosen Max.

Max.

ooo

Alright, the first chapter! Let's see how this goes!

Jordan :D