Flenners fanfics: I agree with the AU thing. No, you weren't the cause of anything. The complications were strictly between Soph and I.
emerald City 39: Thank you so much! :)
Boss Teal: Yep, perks of writing angst! Dewey… he's not my 'least' favourite, but he does make some questionable decisions that make me rethink life.
The Not-So-Ultimate Writer: Haha, I'm assuming everyone knew it was him after the first, "ever so sorry!" You know, I was originally going to make it one of his brothers, but, that would've rushed the plot, so for now, it's a mutual friend. I know they're triplets, but shhh.
Luna McDuck: AND I APPRECIATE YOUR REVIEW SO MUCH!
Lilbree: Yeah! I don't see Boyd enough, so it was refreshing to write about him. And spoilers :)
Imagine Coldplay: Yeah dude, I love responding to reviews. I used to listen to Coldplay, but I still listen to Imagine Dragons :)
IlCaetlynlI27: Thanks Caet :))))
Chapter 3 :))
ooo
They finally made it to the front of the sandwich queue and Boyd eagerly ordered Dewey an expensive sandwich.
"I'm still sorry," Boyd said next to him at the counter.
"It's okay, Boyd, seriously." Dewey said with a light chuckle, following him to a small vacant table. "So, what's the apartment like? I've been pretty much following up every lead and buying every property paper. I'm surprised I missed it."
"It's nice. Homey. Something about it just sparks a warm feeling." Boyd smiled.
Dewey managed a small smile back.
"So, what brings you back to Duckburg?"
"Oh, it wasn't intentional. I accepted a promotion, which came with a transfer to the Duckburg office," Dewey explained as he took another bite of his sandwich. "This is really good by the way."
"I know, right? This is one of the best sandwich shops in Duckburg! So, what do you do workwise?" Boyd asked.
Dewey hesitated. He didn't want to share anything specific with a complete stranger. "I… I work in an office with computers, 9-5 sort of thing," he hurried. "Very boring. You?"
"I'm a scientist." Boyd grinned.
"Wow," his eyebrows shot up. He hadn't expected that.
"Well, I'm not exactly a scientist," he flustered a little. "More like an assistant to one, like an intern. S-so, you've lived in Duckburg before?" he asked, trying to obviously change the subject from his not so successful science career.
"Oh, uhm… yeah. I did," Dewey thickly swallowed. "I grew up here. In fact I went to Duckburg High, and hung around even after that."
"Cool," Boyd nodded, seemingly interested as he took a sip of his drink, before asking the question Dewey dreaded the most. "Why'd you leave?"
3 Years Ago…
"Hey man, where have you been hiding?" Max smiled as Dewey walked into their apartment. "Feels like I'm house-sharing with an invisible man."
"Sorry, Max. Things have been a little chaotic at work recently," he lied. He hated that he was distancing himself from Max. He was a good roommate, and had been becoming a great friend, but Dewey just couldn't keep the façade up all the time around him. He needed some time to get a hold of himself.
"That sucks," Max commented, but his wide smile stayed on his face.
"Why the good mood?" Dewey asked warily, praying the answer wasn't Webby-related, although everything seemed to be Webby-related these days.
Max grinned, and casually chucked his magazine back onto the table. "One, my boss decided to give me a raise."
"Nice," Dewey nodded, briefly thinking of his little anonymous office pod where his boss didn't even know his name.
"Two, I've got the world's most gorgeous girlfriend, seriously she's smoking."
"Yeah, I've uh met her a few times," he grimaced, to which Max just chuckled.
"And three, me and my super-brilliant, gorgeous girlfriend are going away for the weekend together!" he finished with a flare.
Dewey jolted, surprised. "A w-weekend together?" he questioned, trying to sound happy for him but it was hard. Everything seemed so much harder lately, more of an effort to fake. "Isn't that a little serious?"
Max laughed easily, standing up, and clapping his shoulder, "Maybe for you and your weird commitment crap," he chuckled.
"Hey, I don't have commitment issues." Dewey tried to protest, knowing full well he did. His mother had left them for the first 10 years of their life, and he desperately tried to pretend it wasn't a big deal when she finally returned, when in reality, it was.
"But for us normal guys, a weekend isn't that big a deal. Especially, as it means a lot of guaranteed sex, and sex with Webby is fucking amazing."
Dewey squeezed his eyes closed. He didn't need to know that. He'd imagined it, he'd fully suspected it, but he didn't need Max confirming it. He didn't need Max reminding him that she had chosen his roommate, and not the loser she'd known for 10 years.
"Besides, it's been a few months already," Max pointed out, as if Dewey hadn't been there for every single painful day of this horrible relationship, that was slowly destroying him inside and out. "And, I really like her. I think, you know?" he shrugged a little, and Dewey prayed that he didn't know, but feared he did as his roommate looked a little uncomfortable all of a sudden. "I… I think I'm falling in love with her," Max admitted. "But don't tell her alright? I'm thinking I might tell her this weekend, you know if the mood is right."
"W-wow," he swallowed, what was left of his heart breaking silently. Love? They were in love with one another? Love was serious. Permanent. That meant they weren't just messing around, they weren't going to finish this anytime soon.
"I know, isn't it crazy?" he smiled, "Anyway, I've gotta run. Webby's taking me out for a congratulatory meal to celebrate my raise."
"That's, uh awesome," he managed to get out.
"I know! Congratulatory food followed by congratulatory sex. Man, how did I get so lucky?"
"I ask the same question every day," he muttered as he watched his roommate make his way to the door, no doubt heading over to see Webby, and have a pre-meal appetizer. Before Max left though, he stopped and turned towards him. Dewey raised an eyebrow in a silent query.
"Make sure you order a take out or something, buddy," he advised him. "You look like you're losing weight."
Crap. He had hoped no one would notice. If Max noticed, he'd tell Webby and then she'd get concerned, and that would lead to questions.
Questions he didn't dare answer.
"Oh, yeah, I keep forgetting dinner, with the longer hours at work," he tried to lie as casually as possible. "No biggie."
"Okay, cool, well don't wait up! It's gonna be a good night… if you know what I mean," he winked.
Dewey threw him a fake smile as he watched the man close the door, before he collapsed into the armchair, his hands covering his face as he groaned. He knew what he meant, although he wished he didn't: he wished that he was completely oblivious to everything going on around him. He couldn't believe they were in love, going away together. It wouldn't be long before they moved in together, before proposals, marriage, and babies all followed. Could he get through that? Was he strong enough for what the future held? He still couldn't even cope with seeing them kiss without that damn pang of longing starting up in his chest.
It had only been three months. Three pathetic little months, and yet, it felt like years. It wasn't getting any easier, not at all. In fact it was only getting harder, so much harder. He found it hard to sleep, had gone off food, and had little energy or enthusiasm for anything—including adventuring. He was hiding away cowardly at work, trying to avoid hanging out with his friends and brothers as his world slowly fell apart. Their relationship was slowly destroying him, grinding him down day by miserable day and he was becoming a shell of the carefree man he'd once been. His feelings for Webby weren't diminishing as he desperately wished they would. They were getting stronger and his pain greater.
How the hell was he meant to survive this?
Present Time:
"Dewey?" Boyd asked.
"Right, err, sorry," he fiddled with what was left of his sandwich, composing himself and trying to remember his standard answer; his standard lie. The lie he'd practiced in order to hide the ugly truth. "A, uh job offer came up 3 years ago, and I relocated."
They hadn't offered it to him. He'd been desperate. He'd been searching for any position, in any office far away from Duckburg. Once he'd found the advert, he'd begged for them to take him. His boss hadn't exactly liked him, but with his experience, and the fact he'd wanted to start immediately, the Cape Suzette office had agreed to try him on probation. With no social life, and a desperate need to distract himself from the guilt of what he'd done, he had thrown himself into his new work. He'd stayed late, come in stupidly early, and his new boss had been pleasantly surprised. He'd smashed his probation period, and it hadn't taken long to get promoted and move up the ranks.
"You seem to do that a lot, relocate, I mean," Boyd frowned. "Are you back for good this time? Because finding a decent roommate is difficult, and I don't wanna do all this now only for you to go back to Cape Suzette."
He looked up and met his blue eyes. It was getting harder now that he was actually back here, being haunted by his past memories but he had to try.
Had to try to get a life again.
"I'm back for good," he promised, hoping it was true.
Dewey just hoped that his demons wouldn't catch up with him, but he knew from experience that Karma could be bitch when she wanted to be.
3 Years Ago…
"Hi!"
Dewey turned and tried to smile as Webby practically skipped into the bar.
"Hey, you're back," he observed as she offered him a brief hug, one he cherished.
Pulling out of the embrace, she slid onto the bar stool next to him and turned her attention to the bartender, placing her usual order. She looked back at him then, her beautiful eyes bright as she bit her lip looking like she was ready to burst with excitement. He desperately didn't want to ask, desperately didn't want to know, but he was her best friend. He had to.
"So, how was your trip away with Max?" he asked, trying to take some comfort in how happy and carefree she looked. Trying to be pleased about the large smile that lit up her face because of his roommate. It was worth keeping silent about, worth the pain of himself dying slowly inside if she was this content.
Webby deserved to be happy more than anyone he knew. Despite the cost to himself.
"Amazing!" she radiated joy, her eyes shining even brighter as her whole face illuminated. "Just amazing, Dewey. God, he's just so perfect. It was really romantic and he was so sweet the entire time and made me feel so… special, you know?"
"Sure," the ever present knot in his gut tightened a little more.
He downed his drink quickly, and when the bartender brought over Webby's he gestured for a refill. Although he didn't like to admit it, alcohol helped right now, and he was now desperate for anything: anything that would numb his feelings and help him forget how special he wanted to make her feel—how he'd treat her even better, how he'd worship her. Anything that would help him forget how much he loved her.
"He told me he loved me," she smiled, and he tried his hardest to smile back as his stomach lurched. God, it hurt so damn much. Occasionally at times he'd thought maybe he was becoming numb to his current situation, so used to the constant pain he lived with. But moments like this just proved how very wrong he was.
His drink arrived and he took a large mouthful, closing his eyes as he tried to distance himself from his emotions, and let the cool liquid do its job at attempting to soothe him.
"I've never been in love before," she continued, oblivious to his inner turmoil and how her words were only adding to it. "Not like this, you know, like a grown up. It feels so incredible and he's just so, mmmm," she made this noise that Dewey tried to block out. "I can't believe I have a proper boyfriend. Me. Finally!"
"Yeah, you do!" Dewey tried to mimic her enthusiasm as her fingers dug into his arm.
"He's just so perfect!"
That's probably what got him the most. If she was dating someone fantastic, some tall, handsome stranger from an exotic land, that she had met and fallen in love with, he might have been able to accept that, wrap his head around it. But Max? He wasn't anything special. He was a good guy, sure but so was Dewey. What had made her pick Max over him? She'd known him longer, had been closer to him and yet she still had chosen Max. He still couldn't comprehend that and it ate away at him.
"Completely perfect," she repeated.
"Yeah," he swallowed. "You may have mentioned that."
"Sorry, can you tell I'm a little over excited?" she laughed, rubbing his arm.
He loved her laugh, at least he used to; he just wished it was because of him for once and not Max.
"Just a little," he tried to quip lightly, having more of his drink as he tried to ignore the affect her touch had on him. She was his friend. She was dating his roommate. He had to get a grip on this.
Looking at the practically empty glass in his hands, he decided to finish it and order another.
"You're going a little fast there," Webby commented casually.
He shrugged, not particularly bothered. "Unlike you I had a pretty crappy weekend," Dewey muttered.
"Sorry to hear that," but she was still smiling, too caught up in her own happiness, and he understood that. "Wanna head upstairs and put on a movie or something?" she offered. "Hang out like we used to? Sorry, I know we haven't had much 'us' time lately."
"It's okay," he promised, "I know you're busy with Max."
At least when it wasn't just the two of them it was easier to hide. When there was the whole group he could get away with being a bit quieter, get away with avoiding her and withdrawing into himself. With just her, she'd notice something wasn't right. Because of that he'd been purposely avoiding her. Luckily, she hadn't seemed to notice.
"Come on, Mister," she tugged at his arm.
"My drink!" he protested, gesturing to the alcohol being placed in front of him.
Webby smiled at the bartender. "Mind if we take this upstairs? I'll wash and bring back the glass."
"Sure, no worries," he nodded, already turning to the next customer.
"See, problem solved," Webby smiled sweetly at Dewey.
If only it were that simple. He allowed her to tug him out of the bar, and up the stairs. He was dreading this almost as much as he was looking forward to it.
"Okay," Webby looked through the video options. "Can I persuade you with a chick-flick?"
She looked so hopeful that he could only nod. It had always been romcoms in the past, so he could hardly argue now—it was their thing. At least it used to be. He watched as she pushed the CD in and hit the play button. The DVD came to life as she came and snuggled into his side. Webby pulled the blanket from the back of the couch to cover them and settled in.
He paid little attention to the movie, focused purely on the woman in his arms, her warmth and comforting scent. He just wished she was his woman. Although it probably wasn't healthy, he let himself pretend she was. Pretend for just a while that she was his girlfriend, that she was cuddled into him like this and laughing because she was happy to be with him. It helped to temporarily calm his battered soul.
About half way through the film Max walked in, completely shattering the illusion. He joined them on the couch, sitting the other side of her, and she automatically left Dewey's arms, snuggling into her boyfriend's chest. He swallowed down the large lump that had formed in his throat, instantly missing her warmth, missing her hair tickling his chin. Missing her.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Max kiss her hair before she tilted her face and they shared a kiss. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to witness them tonight, post holiday, post 'I love yous' getting all lovey dovey on the couch. No, he couldn't bear it. Silently he stood up from the couch.
"Dewey? Where are you going?" Webby questioned.
"Oh, I've got a few things to do tonight. I'm sure Max will happily sit through the end of this." he sneered, making no effort to mask his bitterness.
"But—"
"I'll see you guys tomorrow," he dismissed quickly with what he hoped didn't sound too forced or desperate as he hurriedly retreated to his apartment. At least with the two of them over at her apartment, it meant that right now his apartment was a 'safe' zone. Somewhere he could lick his wounds and regroup. He just prayed they would stay at hers tonight.
With a sigh, he grabbed a beer, and sat down on the couch. Just as he was about to open his bottle, however, there was a knock on his door. Dewey groaned, and went to go open it.
"What the hell." Webby said plainly.
Dewey scowled. "Can you just leave it, Webby?"
Horror ran through her whole being: she was being shut out! Webby slammed the door behind her, and followed him to the couch. She felt anger and frustration swell within her and she couldn't hold it back.
"No!" she cried in response, standing in front of the TV with her arms crossed, fury etched into her features. "What is up with you?!"
Dewey merely turned up the volume, masking the pain with ignorance. He couldn't tell her… he couldn't tell her anything.
"I don't like using this tone," she warned, her anger dying down a little. "Dewey, please! Talk to me."
He reached for the beer, silently cracking it open. Webby just stared as he took a swig.
"Dewey, I swear. I will leave. I will leave, and not come back to you." her voice wavered.
He sighed, and shut off the TV. "I can't talk to you, okay?! I just can't."
She roughly grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, tears in her eyes. "Dewey… no. Just no. You haven't been eating, you're not open with me, you've died down… can't you see that I love you?"
Instead, he grabbed her arm gently, removing it off of his shoulder. "I think you should go."
Webby opened her mouth, like she was ready to argue. Then she went limp, and numbly nodded. She let out an anguished sigh, and trudged towards the door. Once the door shut, Dewey spoke.
"I love you too." he said gently.
Going straight to the bathroom he splashed cold water on his face. Why did he do this to himself? Pretending for just a second she was his just made reality even more painful. She was in love with Max. She'd spelled that out earlier. He stared at his sunken face in the mirror, and swallowed hard. Could he get over this? Would he actually be able to move past this? He continued staring at the reflection that didn't feel like it belonged to him. His face was pale and his once bright eyes seemed dead. Could he carry on pretending? Keep up this charade? Was he strong enough?
He swallowed again, harder, as tears started to blur his vision.
Would he survive if he stayed here, living like this day after day? He was starting to doubt it, starting to doubt he could do this, any of this. It was starting to look hopeless.
Impossible.
He closed his eyes, blocking out the image of the broken man before him.
Present Time:
"So, would you like to come and check out the apartment?"
He hadn't expected it but the more they had talked the more he had come to like the polite roller skater. Boyd was likeable, easy to get on with and they had connected over quite a few random things.
"Sure," he didn't hesitate. Things were finally starting to look up and he was actually hoping that this place was half decent. If it was, then he was there.
The search would be over, and he would have also found a possible friend. The small hope that bubbled through him felt a little strange. Not much had gone right for him in the last 3 years, which he fully accepted was his own fault.
They left the sandwich shop and started to walk, chatting aimlessly, easily as they dodged the Saturday crowds.
"So, uh, where exactly is this apartment of yours?"
"Just another block," Boyd reassured, and that feeling in his stomach started to increase. It was too close, too dangerous to his past. He forced his feet to keep walking. Maybe it would be far enough away? Maybe they didn't even live here anymore? Maybe they were married, moved from the city and living happily ever after.
His breathing started to quicken in anticipation, his heart hammering in his chest as they turned the corner, and reached the street he'd vowed to never return to. He froze as the building that held so much importance to him finally came into view. It stood there, mocking him.
Yep, Karma was a bitch alright.
ooo
A cliffy!
—Jordan :)
