Notes:

I don't know what's going to happen in the foreseeable future. Things are rather...unsettled around here. So...I'm updating now with the stipulation that I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep my normal schedule.

This scene will reappear in the next chapter, from Lena's POV. It fit Lena better.

Webby might've been naive, but she wasn't stupid. She knew something bad was going on with Lena and her home life, as well as knowing that every time she asked, Lena deflected her. It hurt, especially because they'd been friends for four years and Webby would like to think that she'd earned Lena's trust by now. Webby thought that perhaps Lena was afraid of the repercussions of speaking out.

Whatever the case, when her friend fell to her knees with her hands pressed against her head and tears in her eyes, Webby collapsed beside her.

"Lena! Lena!" she called.

When she was younger, she'd thought they were seizures. However, Lena didn't shake when it happened and a brief black aura surrounded her before she collapsed. She was whimpering in pain and Webby's heart clenched. Someone was hurting her beloved Lena. She smoothed back Lena's one constant affectation, that pink streak of hair, and cupped her cheeks in her hands. They were clammy.

"Lena, come back to me!" she pleaded.

"Magic-magic-" Lena pushed past her stiff lips. She crashed into her and Webby laid her head on her lap. They were getting some strange looks, as they'd stopped outside a bookstore. The shop owner, spying Webby and Lena, was rushing to retrieve water and smelling salts. The latter wouldn't be necessary. Lena hadn't fainted. She was fighting someone.

Blood trickled out one nostril and Webby's heart seized. The shopkeeper, a portly man with brown hair and black scales on his cheeks, halted in front of them with a glass of water. He wore a simple brown tunic and black slacks. An hourglass dangled from his neck, which Webby thought peculiar.

"Miss-miss Vanderroar…" the shopkeeper stammered. "If there's anything I can do for you, anything at all…"

The sad thing was that Webby had witnessed this before. She knew there was nothing to do but to wait. Wait and hope Lena felt better. She stroked her sodden locks; the blood alarmed her. She'd never bled after an attack like that.

"She'll be okay," Webby said, privately hoping that was true. Lena stirred, wiping away the blood, and stared up at them.

"Did I say anything?" she asked, sitting up and then immediately falling against Webby's side again.

"You kept saying 'magic'," Webby said, perplexed. "I mean, I knew it was a magical attack, but it seemed like you were trying to add something and it wasn't coming out."

Lena frowned, pale and unsteady.

"Perhaps you ought to come in and sit down," the bookkeeper suggested, offering Lena the glass of water. "Somewhere that's not the sidewalk?"

"I'm fine," Lena insisted, pushing herself to her feet. She was wobbly, but she managed to stand up. Webby took her hand and Lena jerked hers away. Lena had been acting odder and odder around her lately. It was like platonic touches were taboo all of a sudden.

"If you're sure…?" the bookkeeper asked. She knew he wanted their business, as it would bolster his reputation. Though she wasn't related to Scrooge directly, her grandmother's position relative to him gave her a great deal of prestige and power. Webby had never let it go to her head, even if Louie did on occasion. It'd taken many stern talking-tos from Uncle Donald and Scrooge to get him to stop and only then, he did it in ways that he wouldn't get caught.

"I'm sure," Webby said. "Thanks."

Lena handed back the glass, muttered thank you, and they continued on their way. Despite her assurances that the attack hadn't done any permanent damage, Lena was pale and quiet as they traveled along to the sweets' shop. As always, Webby felt compelled to fill the awkward silence.

"You know, the time for choosing mates is gonna be soon, after the coming of age party," she said. "Scrooge didn't want to throw me a party last year, but since the boys are having one this year, it made sense to group us all together."

Lena choked.

"Lena?" Webby asked anxiously. What was wrong with her friend today? Had someone attacked her? Who had launched that magical mental attack earlier? Who could Webby beat up for her? Why was Lena so tight-lipped about it?

"I can't believe you're this oblivious," Lena muttered.

"Oblivious about what?" Webby demanded.

Lena groaned, facepalming. Her tail swished back and forth, which Webby knew she only did when she was agitated. Was it residual pain? Damn it, Webby wished she knew more about Lena's home life, so she could fight her demons for her and be her knight in shining armor.

"I'll tell you at the ball," Lena said and something dark passed over her face at the mention of it. Webby's heart wrenched.

"You'll be my date, right?" she asked. "We're not officially supposed to have dates, because we're the guests of honor and the party-throwers, but Granny won't say anything if you don't."

Lena groaned again and color suffused her cheeks.

"I swear, I don't know how you survived being this oblivious for this long," she muttered.

"Oblivious about what?" she demanded, repeating herself.

"Never mind," she said. "Forget I said anything. C'mon, let's go get some sweets."

Webby cocked her head curiously at her best friend. She looked aggravated, arms tucked into her body and her hands in her pockets. She stiffened as if to present a smaller target, and Webby affectionately caressed her cheek. Lena froze; while Webby didn't know the entirety of her home life (or anything at all, really), she knew Lena was touch-starved. She hugged her with one arm while stroking her hair with the other hand.

"You know I love you, right?" Webby asked softly.

"I know," Lena replied, but she didn't sound happy about it. Quite the contrary. The knowledge seemed to make her best friend thoroughly miserable.