Notes:

Officially Dewebby. (With some hints of Weblena being a thing too). I have OT3s, so polyamory might come into play here. Might not.

Lena flinched when she sat down, anticipating pain that never arrived. She could feel Magica's mental claws reaching for her but there was a barrier between them. For the first time in her life, Magica wanted to hurt her and couldn't. Wide-eyed, still feeling like she was headed for the gallows, she stared at Scrooge McDragon. The elderly dragon sat on his cushioned red chair and stared at her over his desk.

"She can't reach inside of here," he said. "The magical protections are too strong."

He was holding the elixir, what Magica had obsessed over for so many years. It was within her grasp and she could practically hear Magica exhorting her to take it. Her stomach tied itself in knots. If she attempted to steal it, she'd lose Webby forever. If she didn't, Magica might kill her. She swallowed back the bile that burned her throat.

"I imagine she's been looking for this for a very long time," he said. "Fifteen years, to be exact."

"And you're just going to give it to me?" Lena burst out and Scrooge shook his head.

"No, lass, I'm not," he said. "I wanted to ask you a few questions."

He put the elixir on the table between them and Lena thought this was profoundly unfair. Even without Magica whispering in her head, after years of hearing her command her and with the elixir within reach, Lena was tempted. She was tempted and yet she was sick with the knowledge of the consequences. By enabling Magica, she'd lose her freedom and herself. She wasn't naive enough, not anymore, to think Magica would grant her complete freedom. This was the limit, this was as far as she'd get; Magica's mortal enemy's office.

"Then, why is it out?" Lena said.

"To test your mettle," he said and he scrutinized her. "And determine which you value more-Webbigail or your aunt."

"That's not fair," she burst out. "Magica will totally kill me if I come back without it. I mean, Webby is one thing, but Webby wouldn't tear me to pieces over not helping her."

"I can protect you from Magica," he said.

"Yeah, for now, but as soon as I leave, she'll know," Lena protested. As soon as she left, Magica would know and swoop down on her like a bird of prey for an easy kill. Lena pressed her hand to her mouth to keep from throwing up. Her nerves were at an all-time high. She badly wanted to grab the elixir off the desk and run out.

She knew she wouldn't get away with it. Even with Mrs. Beakley out of commission, Webby could be formidable in her own right. And assuming she escaped the manor, that was it for her. Lena would never be happy again.

So maybe the elixir wasn't all that tempting.

"I can protect you," he repeated. Lena stared at the table and felt tears sting her eyes.

"Why would you help me?" she asked. "I befriended Webby just to get close to you. I'm Magica's niece. And you're a lot less naive than Webby."

"How long have you been doing Magica's bidding?" Scrooge asked and Lena kept staring at the wooden desk.

"Since I was old enough to walk, talk, speak, and steal," Lena murmured. "About five."

"You've been in thrall to her for over ten years?" he asked and she nodded.

"I couldn't tell anyone until you found out about Magica."

Scrooge frowned and then slammed his fist on the table, which prompted Lena to look up. She shuddered, anticipating violence, and tried to make herself smaller. It had worked when she was a child, in that she could sometimes avoid Magica's blows by rolling away or not being where the older dragon had anticipated her. However, as she grew older, it became less and less effective.

"Lena de Spell, look at me," he instructed and she did, albeit reluctantly.

"I'll ask you again. Who do you value more-Magica or Webby?"

"You try being someone's puppet for your entire life!" Lena snapped back. "Webby's the first good thing that's happened to me and you want to take her away."

"No," he corrected. "This isn't my decision. It's yours."

Lena glowered at him. There was still the gala if it came to that. She could always steal the elixir and the treasure during the gala. She couldn't have both Magica and Webby, not anymore, not now that her secret was out. It wasn't much of a choice-a life of drudgery and servitude versus a possible chance for happiness.

"You've known Webbigail for four years now," Scrooge remarked. "She's the first good thing you've had?"

"My life sucks, all right?" Lena said, getting testy. "And Aunt Magica's getting impatient and chomping at the bit. Plus, if Poe doesn't get that elixir, he'll die soon. He can't change back into a dragon and he's lived longer than a raven normally does."

"Hmm…" he said, weighing this. Her fight or flight impulse had kicked in and adrenaline coursed through her veins. She wanted to bolt and it was difficult to suppress the urge. If she fled, she'd be seen as guilty.

"If Poe receives the elixir, there's no guarantee Magica won't too," he mused. "Especially considering how scared you are of her."

"She's been torturing me my entire life," Lena said flatly. "She's a cruel, vindictive, abusive bitch. You're an adult. You don't understand."

"I do understand," he said gently. "Where do you stay when you're not here?"

"What does it matter to you?" she asked, not looking at him again. Technically, she squatted in an apartment and she didn't want him to find out and get the local constabulary involved. The cops would shove her out and probably put her in juvie or something worse.

"You're not living with her, are you?" he asked severely.

"I might as well be," she said. "This is the first time that I can remember that she hasn't been hovering over my shoulder or reading my thoughts or stalking me magically."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't see how any of that matters to you."

"You're Webbigail's best friend," he said quietly. "You've been coming around here for years. You didn't think I would start to care about you?"

Honestly, no. The thought had never occurred to her. Lena shifted, uncomfortable. It was probably a side effect of the depression, the thought that she had no staying power in anyone's lives. With Webby, she wasn't quite sure where she stood, but with other people, she doubted they'd notice. Maybe Dewey would? He'd defended her earlier, which she'd appreciated.

"Webby's not related to you," she argued.

"I've seen her grow up," he replied. "I've seen her get closer to the boys, too. And if they consider her family, then so do I."

Lena stared at the table again. She couldn't bring herself to meet Scrooge's gaze. Her tail lashed in her chair, her only visible sign of agitation.

"We can protect you if that's what you want," he said. "If you take that elixir, I won't stop you. Just know that you'd never be welcome anywhere near Webbigail or the others, or McDuck Manor, again."

Lena flicked a glance up at Scrooge and then back down at the table. Suddenly, the choices she'd thought she had vanished. She stared at the vial and then nudged it back toward him. The urge to seize it was strong, but the thought of losing Webby was worse by far. A couple of tears slipped down her cheeks.

"You've made your choice, then?" he asked and she nodded.

"All right," he said. "Let's see what we can do about keeping you safe."

He grabbed the vial and tucked it into his pocket. Although Lena eyed it, she made no move to grab it. She was miserable with the thought of Magica's retribution, but...she had the tiniest amount of hope that things might improve. It was more than she'd had earlier today and she cherished it.

Still, as they moved back toward Mrs. Beakley's room, Lena felt the elixir in Scrooge's pocket like a weight around her neck. It was the yoke that tied her to Magica and Poe and she was letting it slip away. What was wrong with her? Could Scrooge really grant her freedom? Webby trusted him, but then again, Webby trusted everyone. As much as she adored the girl...Webby was too naive for her own good sometimes.

"Lena?" Webby asked.

"She's staying here, with us, lass," Scrooge said and squeezed Lena's shoulder. Lena had grown accustomed to physical affection from Webby, but other people were another matter. She startled, expecting him to hit her. When that didn't happen, she forced herself to relax. Scrooge hadn't noticed her flinching, either.

"You trust her?" Louie asked.

"She chose Webbigail over the elixir," Scrooge said. "Aye, I trust her."

Louie frowned, studying her, and then shrugged. "I mean, I guess if she took four years and decided she wasn't going to betray Webby, she won't. Unless this is still a con."

"It's not a con," Scrooge and Lena said in unison, the former exasperated and the latter anxious.

"We'll find someone to pick up your belongings," Scrooge said. Lena's attention was diverted from the older dragon by a flurry of movement in Mrs. Beakley's room. The doctor had vanished back inside and now was coming out, beckoning toward Webby. When the boys made to enter with her, he jerked his head. Lena's stomach plummeted. This couldn't be good news.

She felt ill. If Magica had really hurt Mrs. Beakley, then it would be her fault because she'd brought her to Magica's attention. Because of Mrs. Beakley's ties to Webby, Magica must've seen a weakness and attacked it. Lena wanted to run and hide, but she offered the boys a weak smile instead.

"We could show you around," Huey offered. Lena shook her head.

"I'm fine. We can chill over here," she said, straining to see what was going on. The doctor closed the door and the boys exchanged worried glances.

"You don't think she's dying, do you?" Dewey asked quietly. "Why would he shut us out like that?"

"She can't be dying," Louie said, but he had nothing to support that. "I mean...she can't die. Not like that. Not after a sneak attack that Magica must've done."

The guilt swamped her. She was responsible for this. Scrooge was still standing nearby, conversing with the nurse. She could steal the vial and flee; that couldn't possibly be worse than facing Mrs. Beakley's death from Magica's hands. And then Webby...Webby would be heartbroken. Of course, if her grandmother died, she'd be devastated anyway. But to lose her best friend and her grandmother in one fell swoop would be far worse.

"Are you okay?" Huey asked. "You're really pale."

"I'm fine," she lied and he scowled.

"You're not fine," he countered. She forced herself not to glance at Scrooge's right front pocket where the vial was. Would Webby want anything to do with her if her grandmother died? Or would she place the blame rightfully on Lena?

"Do you really care or are you just asking to be polite?" she asked.

"Of course I care," he retorted. "You've been around here enough-we're all used to you-I thought we were all kind of friends now."

Lena just shook her head. She didn't know how to answer that. Her heart was in her throat and she wished she could barge into Mrs. Beakley's room and find out what was going on. Not knowing was torture. She glanced around and her gaze settled on Scrooge.

"Calente is one of the best healers in America," Scrooge told them. "He'll do whatever is necessary to help."

Somehow, Lena didn't find that as reassuring as she could have.

Enraged, Magica thrashed about in the woods outside of Dragonburg. She had no intention of slinking back to her cave. She wished she'd ripped out Beakley's throat entirely, but she hadn't had the chance. Beakley hadn't let her. What was worse, however, was that she could no longer feel Lena or have a presence in her mind. It was like that black tether connecting her to her niece had been severed and she had a block rather than a link. It was maddening. It was infuriating. It smacked of Scrooge McDragon.

Lena belonged to her. She had laid claim to her when she was a toddler and as loathsome as she found her connection to her niece, she had used it to her advantage. To be denied it felt like she'd lost her favorite tool. And make no mistake-Lena was a tool at best.

How dare Scrooge interfere in her plans for Lena. How had he known, anyway? The geas should've prevented Lena from uttering Magica's name. It didn't, however, prevent others from saying it around her. And if Lena had managed to push through that loophole…

Magica snarled, rampaging through the forest. She wanted to kill someone. First her rejection from Dragonburg, then Beakley fleeing, and now Lena cut off from her. She would have what belonged to her and she would have it now. In her current form, she couldn't create a potion-she was too large and the materials required small hands, not dragon claws. And Poe couldn't help; he was succumbing to the bird within and diminishing more and more every day.

She needed Lena. It vexed her to admit it, but the teenager was vital to her plans. And she did not belong to Scrooge. Magica's lips peeled back in a snarl. Once she got what she wanted, she would kill Lena. It was clear that the girl could not be trusted with the smallest of tasks. If Poe objected, well, he might not have enough left in him to recognize his daughter anyway.

Traitor. Her niece was a traitor. She tossed her head and glanced in the direction of McDragon Manor. She lacked the mental connection with anyone but Lena. However, Lena had to leave the manor sometime. And when she did, Magica would spring on her and punish her to within an inch of her life. She would leave the girl begging for mercy and then use her to steal the elixir and the treasure. Then she would kill her. Lena had outlived her usefulness.

And if this was a bit cruel, then, well, what could she say? She was tired of waiting.

When Webby was finished with her grandmother, she said nothing to any of them but instead fled for her room. Dewey followed; his mother had said to wait for the perfect moment, but he didn't see why this couldn't be it. He could comfort her and, in the process, tell her how he felt about her. Maybe there'd be a moment of mutual understanding and they could move from there. Maybe he was being hopelessly naive. He didn't know.

He caught the door before she closed it. In all the time he'd known her, she'd seldom cried and he could sense she was stifling sobs right now.

"Webby?" he said softly and thrust his foot in the doorway to prevent her from closing the door on him. Webby sniffled, staring at him with her eyes full of tears. His heart ached seeing her so miserable.

"Can I come in?"

"You kinda already have," she pointed out. She opened the door further, however, and stepped back. She swiped at her eyes and Dewey leaned forward to thumb away the errant tears that had fallen. Webby was shaking with suppressed sobs and he hugged her, letting her rest her head on his chest. In the meanwhile, he stroked her hair and it dawned on him all over again that this was the girl he was in love with. This was the girl he'd imagined spending his entire life with. She was here, in his arms. True, she was crying, but they were here, together, and everything felt possible.

"Sssh…" he said. "I'm sure she'll be okay."

"Cal says that she might never speak again," she said softly. "He was amazed that she was able to shift right after the attack and he said that might have cost her more energy that she needed to heal. He put her in a magical coma so she can heal."

She sniffled and hugged him back. He guided her toward her bed and pulled her onto his lap. He was whispering soothing nothings to her in the hopes that it'd help, that something would penetrate.

They sat there for a few minutes in silence. He didn't know what else to say to her and she seemed unwilling to speak. He had a half-formed notion that he might lean in to kiss her and she'd lean in too...but he pushed that aside as highly irrelevant for the time being and also distracting.

"I can't believe Lena's Magica's niece…" Webby said at last. "All those years and she couldn't tell us...and then suffering…"

Dewey stroked her hair. "I know."

"She's really my friend, though," she said and for the first time, a hint of doubt crept into her voice. "I know she is. Even if it started out as a ruse, she grew to care about me. She told me she loved me. That wasn't a lie...was it?"

"I don't know…" he said, feeling wrong-footed and not sure what to say to her.

He wanted to kiss her, he did, but would the timing be all wrong for that? Or should he say to hell with it and take the chance?

"Uncle Scrooge wouldn't have let her stay here if she wasn't trustworthy," she said. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

"You can talk to her later," Dewey reasoned. "She'll still be here."

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, even while aware that this might not be the perfect moment, he leaned in and kissed her. He knew he probably should've waited, but he couldn't hold it back any longer. She had to know how he felt.

His body lit up with electricity and warmth rushed through him. It wasn't fireworks, but it was pretty close. Her lips were soft and when he swiped his tongue along them, they were sweet too, a little like juice. He could feel her breath on his cheek. Webs...

Webby gasped; he'd clearly caught her off guard. She didn't kiss him back, but he hadn't expected it. Of course, he'd always hoped she would, but he could accept that she might be taken aback. He pulled away when she continued to gape at him.

"Webs?" he asked.

"...you kissed me…" she said faintly. She put a hand to her lips and gaped at him. His heart pounded between his ribs. He wanted to build a family with her. He wanted to fly the skies with her and never lose sight of her, only chase her through the world on a Bonding flight and discover something new, not to mention adventuring with her. She had his whole heart. Didn't she know that? He should tell her.

"I can't hold this in any longer," he said. "I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you for years. If you don't feel the same way, that's okay. I mean, if you don't feel the same way, you might grow to. Or not. Argh, this sounded so much better in my head."

She sat still, so still that he wasn't sure whether he'd done the right thing. Should he have waited? After all, she was worried about her grandmother and her best friend. Maybe this hadn't been the best timing. And she was staring at him with wide eyes. He cursed himself inwardly.

"I…" She glanced around, as if hoping something or someone might come along and interrupt this awkward moment. Blood rushed to Dewey's cheeks. He shouldn't have pushed the issue.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have-I'm sorry. I should just go now. Yeah. I'm gonna go."

Webby reached out for him and kept him from jumping to his feet, despite his yearning to do so. Her hand was warm on his and he felt the sparks between them. For the first time, he wondered whether he was the only one who did. Could this all be in his head?

"I don't know how I feel about you," she answered. "Or Lena."

"Lena?" he exclaimed. "What does she have to do with this?"

"I have feelings for both of you and I can't sort out what's what!" she said, exasperated, perhaps with herself. "I love being around both of you and I don't want either of you to leave me. I don't want to have to choose."

"If you did choose, who would you pick?" he asked and then cursed again mentally. Why was he putting her in this untenable position? Did he really think she was going to pick him?

"I don't know!" she exclaimed. "Why do I have to choose? Why can't I have both of you?"

Dewey knew he ought to back off. He was stressing her out further and he wasn't going to get the response he wanted. Swallowing hard, he started to back away again but she was holding onto his wrist.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, exasperated too.

"I don't want to be stuck in the middle!" she countered. "You're sweet and sensitive and I care about you. Lena's got a cinnamon roll interior-she's sweet once you really get to know her and see past her smokescreen. You're both my best friends and you're both important to me. Please, Dewey. Don't put me in this position."

"You're in love with both of us, aren't you?" he asked, feeling his heart thud dully in his chest.

"I don't know!" she exclaimed. "I have too much going on right now. Why did you have to kiss me now?"

"You looked like you needed to be kissed!" he said, which wasn't an argument at all, but it was the best he could come up with on such short notice. This wasn't going at all how he'd pictured. Of course, in most of his imaginary scenarios, she'd confess her love for him too, fling her arms about him, and kiss him passionately. It dawned on him belatedly that that might've been a bit far-fetched.

"How did I look like I needed to be kissed? How am I supposed to look?" she asked, throwing her hands in the air. At least she'd released him.

"You always look like you need to be kissed because you need to be kissed!" he said. Now he knew he wasn't making sense. "You don't even know how adorable you are. How pretty. You drive me crazy. I had to kiss you. Even if it's just once to know what it was like."

"And what was it like?" she asked.

"Like magic, like the planets were all aligning and everything was coming together. Like flying," he said. "Like that soaring feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you rise up in the air and everything is going to be all right."

Webby pulled her knees to her chest. Her hair fell over her ears and he tucked it back. He knew he ought to keep his hands to himself, but he couldn't stop himself.

"How did it feel for you?" he asked, wary of the answer.

"Like butterflies in my stomach," she whispered. "Like my whole body was tingling."

"Then...I don't see the problem," he said and she glowered.

"The problem is that I get like that around Lena too!" she said. "And I don't know what it means, I can't ask Granny because she's in a magically induced coma, and my best friend might be a traitor and I don't know either. I don't know anything and it's so damn frustrating!"

She drew a deep breath to brace herself.

"I don't know what's going to happen…" she said in a small voice. "I don't want to lose either of you. I want you both. Why can't I have you both?"

Dewey frowned. He hadn't considered sharing her before. It was possible, but unlikely. Dragons tended to take mates for life and of those, only one mate. There were rare instances where a threesome materialized, but he knew nothing of those. Could he share Webby if push came to shove? Would Lena be able to share her?

He knew Lena had feelings for Webby. The only person who didn't know was, of course, Webby. He loved her, but she was too oblivious for her own good sometimes. It made him want to bang his head into the wall.

She pulled him back toward her and kissed him briefly on the lips. Her hands lingered, fisted in his shirt, and, after another moment's indecision, she pulled him back to kiss him again. He kissed her back eagerly, not sure if this meant she'd chosen him or she wasn't choosing anyone. He didn't care. He'd take what he could get for now.

She pulled him onto her lap and he wrapped his arms around her. Maybe he was taking advantage of the situation, when she was emotionally compromised. Maybe he should back away. But she didn't want him to and he didn't have enough strength to pull himself away.

Besides, what was the worst that could happen? He held her tightly and whispered when they broke apart, "I love you, Webs."

She sighed, resting her forehead against his.

"I guess I can't say that I have familial feelings for you, huh?" she said, her lips quirked. She ran her fingers through his cowlick and he beamed at her. Lowering his head, he kissed her again. She shut her eyes this time.

It wasn't permanent. It might not even last beyond this precious bubble moment in her room. But, again, he'd take what he could get. And if this was what he could get, well, he wasn't going to complain.

Mrs. Beakley was awake, but not strictly aware of what was going on. She floated in a nebulous haze, where she knew something was happening and that she was injured, but not the extent nor what was happening to her body. If it weren't for the magic and drugs coursing through her system, she would have been disconcerted enough to achieve consciousness. She couldn't reach it now, but she did reach out for Webby. If Bentina was injured, then she needed to know how her granddaughter was doing and whether she was all right.

There was a weird gauze-like barrier between her and Webbigail. She didn't like it and her granddaughter's mind was hazy. Or perhaps that was Bentina. She fretted.

((I'm okay, Granny,)) Webby reassured her. Her voice echoed oddly and, reassured, Bentina sank back down into the morass. She could feel Webby clamoring for her, asking for more details and begging her to stay, but she'd only had enough strength to pull herself anywhere near the surface for Webby. Now that she knew she was all right, she could rest.

((Granny, no!)) Webby cried and her mental voice was anguished.

((Come back! Don't...don't leave me...Granny…))

She could feel her sobbing and she would have reached out again to comfort her, but she was drained. She let herself go.