She should be resting in bed. Cal had been explicit in his instructions, telling her that she required sleep to help her heal. Again, she was defying medical orders by being awake and alert, sifting through Scrooge's vast library to locate information on Bonding. Specifically, how she might trigger a Bonding ceremony. It appeared that she wouldn't be able to do so on her own...and also, the incantations involved would require speaking; Cal had stitched her mouth and speaking too much would cause the wound to open up again. One experience with her mouth full of blood was enough, thank you.

Unfortunately, it had to be she who spoke the incantations. She also had to convince Dewey and Lena to speak them with her, which would be doubly hard considering she was forbidden to talk aloud. Webby glowered down at the book. She was focusing on it so hard that she didn't notice Della wheeling up to her.

Webby startled when Della's hand brushed against hers and she assumed a defensive position. She opened her mouth to speak and then shut it. No, she didn't want a repeat of earlier.

"Should you be out of bed?" Della scolded. "And...what do we have here?"

She pulled the book toward her and Webby huffed.

"You've made up your mind?" she asked quietly. "Did you choose between them? Or are you keeping them both?"

Webby gave her a look and Della laughed, embarrassed.

"Right. Can't talk. Forgot. All right. Blink once for Dewey, twice for Lena, and three times if you haven't decided between them."

Webby blinked three times and Della shook her head with a rueful smile.

"Dewey isn't going to like that," she said. "But he doesn't have much of a choice, does he?"

Webby smiled back.

"You'll be able to work it out amongst yourselves."

Della's smile faded and transformed into a frown. "But what's your hurry? Why are you so insistent on doing this that you needed to come down here in the middle of the night?"

She couldn't explain, not non-verbally. Frustrated, she cast about for writing implements. Della located a pen and paper for her and Webby proceeded to write frantically, as though the words were trapped inside of her and were poisoning her the longer she held onto them. She finished with a flourish and presented the paper to her.

"You have that little faith in Lena?"

Webby gestured for the pad again and scribbled a response. Della frowned, contemplating that. She didn't say anything for a minute, as she was chewing on it. Webby frowned back.

"I see," she said after another minute had passed. "That's problematic. But you can't compel someone to Bond with you, Webby. I mean, Dewey would probably do it in a heartbeat, because he's been fixated on you for years now. And Lena loves you, I can tell she does, but that's a big leap for someone who hates herself. She'd probably feel like she was burdening you if she Bonded to you."

Webby bit back an impatient response and scrawled it out on the pad instead.

"I know, but she doesn't see it that way. She'd think she was doing you a favor. Trust me, she's not in a good place emotionally right now. Your bringing up the issue would hurt rather than help her."

Webby let out a tense breath between her clenched teeth. Why didn't Lena see herself the way Webby saw her? Lena had sacrificed so much, fought against so much injustice, and she didn't see herself as strong and powerful? How could she not? Why was Magica's word so much more compelling than someone who genuinely cared about her?

"I know you're frustrated. It's a frustrating situation. You have to give her some time and space. She just lost her father."

Webby's lower lip quivered. A small part of her, the selfish part she usually beat back, wanted to snap that Webby had never known her parents, so why should Lena's response be any different? But...she recognized that that was wrong and shoved it aside. Lena had spent her life hoping to regain her father and, just when she might have stood a chance, her hopes were crushed.

Webby knew she could be patient. After all, she'd waited this long, hadn't she? True, she hadn't known that she was waiting, which had made the difference. However, she could do this for Lena. She could put aside her worries and strive for normalcy with her without fearing that she could leave.

And if she did leave, with Magica in custody, would she come back? Webby wanted to believe that she'd provide enough of an incentive for Lena to return, though it would be the first time in Lena's life that she was untethered. Webby's frown deepened and Della put a hand on her shoulder. Webby hadn't said a word, but whatever she was thinking must've been written upon her face, because Della placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

"If she loves you, truly loves you, she'll always return to you."

Nodding, wishing she could hold up a decent conversation, she took the book and padded out toward her room. Della followed and covered her mouth to conceal a yawn.

"Get some sleep," Della advised and then smiled at her. "My future daughter-in-law."

Webby choked and Della grinned wickedly.

"What?" she asked innocently. "You can't tell me that that's not going to happen. Of course, at the moment, you can't tell me anything at all."

She could see where Dewey got his sense of humor from. Webby rolled her eyes at Della and then headed back toward her room with the book. Once she got there, she discovered Dewey waiting for her. Before she had a chance to speak, even if she was going to, he held up his hands in a defensive gesture.

"Okay, I know, I know. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be in a girl's room at night, especially when I'm in love with you," he said. "And I know your grandmother would probably have a fit. But...I had to talk to you."

Webby gesticulated, irritated, toward her throat.

"You can type out your response on my laptop," he said, offering her the two in one convertible. He had already set it to tablet mode and she sat down on her bed; she eyed him warily. Dewey placed his hand on her knee and then jumped back, perhaps afraid he was acting too familiar.

"I know you're afraid Lena's gonna leave."

She jumped up, startled. If Dewey was here, then who was keeping an eye on Lena? Had she already fled? What if she'd returned to endure more of Magica's abuse? Webby bolted for the door and Dewey grabbed her by the wrist. She nearly dropped the laptop in her haste to locate Lena.

"She's okay. Uncle Scrooge set your grandmother to watch her."

She released a shaky breath and turned to look at him. He smiled back; she couldn't muster the emotion in response. Her heart was skittering around in her chest, both at the thought of Lena fleeing and that she'd needed a guard to prevent her from doing so. Then again, it might've been a precaution on Mr. McDragon's part.

"You can't keep worrying about everyone else and forgetting about yourself."

She placed the laptop down on the table near the door and put her hands on her hips.

"I know you're afraid. But you can't hold everyone together and let yourself fall apart."

She mouthed "I'm fine" at him and he rolled his eyes.

"You always say that and you're not. I don't know who you think you're fooling, but it's not working, Webby."

She folded her arms across her chest now and gave him "The Look". Wincing, he ducked his head for a second before glancing back up at her.

"I'm serious. I'm worried about you. You're injured and you're still trying to fight everyone else's battles for them. It's not healthy."

She could tell him she was fine, or, rather, mouth it, but if he wasn't buying it, there was no point in prolonging the inevitable. Grabbing the convertible laptop, she wrote out a message. As she did, she noted the time on the taskbar. It was nearing three o'clock a.m., which was either very early or very late depending on your point of view.

"I can't lose her," she wrote. "Or you. Don't you understand?"

"Yeah, I get it," he said softly. "But I don't want to lose you either and neither does Lena. We love you, Webs. And seeing you hurt sucks."

Grabbing the book she'd brought with her from the library, she flipped through the pages until she found the article on the Bonding ceremony. She pointed to it.

"Aren't we a little too young for that?" Dewey asked. "And who would you Bond with? Both me and Lena?"

She nodded.

"Have you run this by her?"

Webby shook her head.

"You should probably ask her before you decide you're going to Bond with her."

She huffed, as though the answer to this should have been obvious. If they were meant to be, then, of course, Lena would say "yes". However, that didn't stop her doubts. Lena might not think she was good enough for her. Or she might think that Magica had a prior claim on her and make herself miserable trying to atone for Poe's death.

"I mean, I've dreamed about Bonding with you for years. But...is this what you want? Both of us?"

She nodded.

Dewey hugged her and she hugged him back.

"We should get some sleep."

She glowered and he held up his hands again. "I'm just saying that it's getting late, you need to recover, and no one's going anywhere. I promise I'll even stay with you if that's what you want. But you need sleep."

She huffed again, conceding the point. Reluctantly, she allowed him to guide her back to bed and he curled up around her. She smiled, nuzzling him. The only person missing from this was Lena and, with any luck, she'd come around and they'd be together soon. Maybe there was still a way Webby could manipulate the situation to her advantage to prevent Lena from even contemplating fleeing…

Magica de Spell slept fitfully, curled up in a ball as best as she could and crying in her sleep. When she awoke, it was to discover an unlikely duo near her cell. Gladstone, she could understand because he'd come and gone a lot in the last few days. Lena, on the other hand, was a surprise. The teenager looked like she hadn't slept well, which gave Magica a perverse sense of pleasure. That was suppressed by Gladstone staring at her and, for once in her life, she felt ashamed to derive amusement from Lena's misery.

"Since when do you two work together?" she asked laconically.

"We don't work together. We wound up together," he responded. "Besides, I'd like the answers to a few questions, namely what you were thinking when you were torturing your niece."

"That's between me and Lena."

"Not if we're going to Bond, it isn't," he shot back and Lena's eyes widened.

"Think your dear little Webster Bonded to Dewey without you?" Magica sneered and Lena flinched. She caught a glimpse of fear in her eyes and she suppressed a smirk. Yes, that had hit the mark. Imagine that she'd endured all that, lost her father, and she'd lost the love of her life. Magica wanted to twist the knife in deeper, see how much she could make Lena suffer.

"Enough!" Gladstone snapped. "Why are you so determined to cause her pain?"

"Why?" Magica snapped. "Because she stole my brother away from me, not once but twice. She procrastinated on saving us because she was pining for a stupid girl who barely even knows she exists, and even now, she doesn't understand the magnitude of what she's done."

"I know what I've done, Aunt Magica," Lena said through clenched teeth. "You don't have to keep reminding me."

"Yes, I do, you impertinent whelp. You failed your family over a crush. You're the reason Poe's dead. You killed your own father. I hope you're happy."

"Leave her alone, Magica," Gladstone growled. "You're making me want to reconsider Bonding with you. If you think I'd let you take out your sadistic nature on an innocent child-"

"She's not innocent!" Magica retorted.

"She didn't mean to let this happen," Gladstone said and then his eyes narrowed. "And I know the only reason you're blaming her is that you're shifting the blame off yourself so you don't have to feel guilty."

"Her? Feel guilty?" Lena scoffed. "She sure as hell doesn't feel guilty for torturing me for over a decade."

"That's another thing," he said. "You need to stop taking out your aggressions on her. You want to pick on someone, pick on someone your own size, Magica. Pick on me."

"I couldn't pick on you!" Magica protested. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Yet you have no problem attacking your teenage niece?"

"She hasn't done what I wanted because she's so busy fraternizing with her tools. She was supposed to be using Webby, not the other way around!"

"Webby wouldn't use me," Lena said and Magica, without having access to her magic, could nonetheless feel the tightness in Lena's chest. She could feel that she was outraged and, beneath that, terrified that Magica might be right. "Webby cares about me because she isn't evil like you."

Damn it, she did not want this to continue. She couldn't risk revealing her weaknesses in front of Lena and, likewise, she couldn't risk continuing to berate Lena in front of Gladstone. Those two had never been intended to meet. She trembled, staring at them with her good eye.

"All right, fine, maybe I was venting out my aggressions on Lena because I was frustrated I couldn't help Poe," she relented. "And perhaps I'd be a little sorry if she perished. Maybe a smidgen. Not that much."

Gladstone looked satisfied, but Lena wasn't buying it.

"Why are you even down here, Lena?" Magica snorted. "What's the matter? Webster won't give you the time of day?"

"Because I'm a masochist, apparently," Lena muttered.

Magica recalled when Poe had been in his humanoid form, right after Lena had been born, and she'd been crying in his arms. He'd brushed his fingers along her cheek and she'd quieted. He'd been so tender and loving with his daughter and all Magica remembered was being filled with resentment and envy. No one had ever looked at her the way Poe looked at Lena; like Lena was his whole world.

"Maybe you should leave us to talk," Gladstone suggested and then reached out to touch Lena's shoulder in what he probably thought was a conciliatory fashion. Lena jerked back, out of his reach, and Magica smirked. The fear of touch came from her. She was proud to have instilled it in her, although she was also irritated that Lena derived so much comfort from Webby's touch. She wished she'd killed the brat when she'd had the chance.

Lena gave Magica a sour look. "I'll be around."

"Oh, I'm sure you will be," Magica retorted. "Little traitor."

"You put me in an impossible situation-"

"Because you were the only one who could help and you screwed it all up!"

"I'm not your puppet or your pawn, Aunt Magica."

"No, because at least then they would do what they were told!"

"It's not my fault I fell in love with her, okay? She's the first person to have treated me decently in my entire life-"

"That's not true."

"What, are you going to tell me you had a kind side? Because I don't believe it."

"Poe loved you." It felt like she was wrenching the words out from deep inside and the truth clawed at her insides. "Poe adored you, Lena. Before he was stuck as a bird, he doted on you."

"Then it's a shame I don't remember that, isn't it?" she growled. "It's a shame you stole my father away from me."

"You stole him from me first," she said and was aware of how petulant she sounded. "He wouldn't talk to me or do magic with me because he was obsessed with you. I had no choice. I had to keep him by me-he was all the family I had."

"You got him changed into a bird because you hated me that much," Lena said flatly. "That's pretty fucked up, even for you."

"You should have told me," Gladstone said. "You aren't alone, Magica. You should have Bonded with me years ago. I wouldn't have abandoned you."

"Yes, well…" Magica faltered. "Hindsight is 20/20, isn't it?"

"Ugh, I'm not hanging around for this sappy stuff," Lena said. "I'm out."

"I'm sure your darling Wendy won't be hanging around for you, either," Magica said sweetly and Lena cringed.

"Why are you such a bitch…" Lena muttered as she walked off. Magica smirked, watching her go, at least until Gladstone stood in front of her.

"She has magical powers, too, doesn't she?" he asked in an undertone. "That's part of why you hate her so much. She could confront you, she doesn't, and you resent that you need her more than she needs you."

"That's ridiculous," she said, folding her arms across her chest with some difficulty. She couldn't reach all the way across and gave up the attempt soon after.

"It's not ridiculous if it's true," he replied and leaned into the bars. He brushed his lips against hers and she sighed, grateful that he'd managed to slacken her restraints enough for her to be able to reach him, albeit just barely.

He tilted his head and kissed her again and she kissed him back, pouring her fear and possessiveness and uncertainty into the kiss.

"I'll get you out of here," he said, stepping back. "I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Gladstone," she cautioned.

"And be nicer to your niece," he said, shaking his head. "No wonder she hates you."

Magica snorted. "I can't make any promises there either."