Author's Note: It's a long chapter this week. Also, the things that Webby dreams about, where Magica blames her for what happened to her? I get those dreams too. PTSD is fun, isn't it? /sarcasm
I might post more than a chapter a week, since I have an incredible backlog for this series and its sequel.
Chapter Four: My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark
Her niece was a traitor. She didn't know why she expected any better when Lena had always been an ingrate. Hell, she'd protected her when Poe had gone missing. Okay, so Poe's disappearance was technically Magica's fault, but who was counting? For Lena to have turned on her, after everything Magica had done for her, was an injustice and Magica intended to have that remedied.
As a raven, albeit a shadowy one, she perched atop the McDuck Manor gate. She needed the power within Scrooge's number one dime to restore her, again, to her true self. What she hadn't mentioned, however, was that blood magic had its own powers. By killing Mrs. Beakley, Magica had a power source to draw upon at will. It had just taken a while to be able to use it because she'd been beaten back by Scrooge and his great-nephews, not to mention Lena. Feh. Spoiled little girl.
She'd repay the favor as soon as she had a corporeal form again. To do that, she should hang around here and soak up Webby's misery. In addition to blood magic, emotional trauma carried weight and it seemed like the little girl had it in spades. Magica cackled, flying over to Webby's window to poke her head in at the fast asleep duckling.
Webby was whimpering in her sleep and Magica felt a fresh surge of hatred for her. Lena had left her for this pathetic whelp? Still, there seemed to be a new note to her misery and Magica glided into the room to get closer to the source. Webby tossed and turned, fighting in her sleep against an enemy she'd already lost to, judging by her whispered pleas and entreaties.
That was interesting. Magica cocked her head and smirked. Tell me more, child.
Now tell me all about your pain, down to the detail.
Don't say it's love.
Your fragile heart breeds my contempt.
What was odd was that Magica's sense of Lena told her that her niece wasn't here. After having spent so long as Lena's literal shadow, Magica knew her niece's magical signature and the power she possessed. It lingered here, in this room, as Magica had suspected, but it had also left the manor. Magica lingered for the moment, soaking up and reveling in Webby's pain.
Sleep well, sweet dreams, little brat, she thought, cackling again. Webby moaned, eyelids fluttering, and Magica waited to see whether she'd wake. Despite another whimper and curling up tighter, the girl remained asleep. Whatever held her in its grip had a tight hold on her.
If she had her full powers, she would've been able to probe Webby's mind and drag out the details. But she knew who would know if she could get close to him without him realizing she was there.
What was she saying? Of course she could. Scrooge McDuck was oblivious to her unless someone pointed her out. Blowing Webby a mocking kiss, she took off, propelling herself around the manor toward the other side. Everyone felt Mrs. Beakley's loss in different ways, even if Webby's was the keenest. It certainly gave her ample material to work with. Unfortunately, she'd need a pawn or a corporeal state to steal the dime, but first things first. Her curiosity was getting the better of her.
Approaching Scrooge's office, she expected to sail through an open window. She didn't. Instead, she passed through a closed one and she shuddered. She hated being reminded she was a shadow. Still, with the grief around here, her power was growing all the time.
"I'm tracking them down myself," Scrooge barked and Donald Duck gave him a skeptical look. Magica's interest piqued.
"You could let the police handle it," Donald reprimanded.
"Do you know how long that would take?" Scrooge objected. "They'd get one whiff of the cops and then they'd run."
"They're dangerous. You said so yourself."
"Aye, I did," he said and then grimaced. "I owe Webbigail for throwing her out of my life and her grandmother for protecting her until the end."
Donald frowned at that. Magica preened her feathers, such as they were in that form and pretended she didn't have a keen interest in this conversation.
"You always go in there without thinking about what could happen," Donald protested.
"I'm not bringing the kids this time," he said grimly. "Not even Lena. The lass has suffered enough."
Donald faltered. Clearly, he hadn't expected this argument. Slowly, the younger duck nodded. He left Scrooge's office and Scrooge turned to the window. Through the sunlight beaming through it, she was scarcely visible. Or, at least, so she thought until the older duck rounded on her.
"You have some nerve showing your beak around here, Magica," he spat. "You know you're not welcome here or anywhere in my vicinity."
"You wound me, Scroogie," Magica retorted. "I am only here to observe, not to cause further pain."
"As if you could," he scoffed. "Shoo!"
He waved at her and, rather than tell him that his misery was amplifying her magic, she took off, letting him think he'd won for the moment. Stupid duck. She had no intention of backing off. While the number one dime remained a priority due to the power imbued within, she would have to settle for something more mundane to make her come back. Again. Physical forms were encumbrances.
She drifted on, wishing she could wring Lena's neck. It took a little ingenuity to locate her niece, as she'd gone off the radar again. This time, she'd hunkered down in an underground storage room. Drab and cold, it was unappealing and Magica scoffed. She was not impressed.
"Aunt Magica?" Lena said and whirled around, hand on a new friendship bracelet Webby must've made her. Magica hissed at the sight.
She could possess Lena again, but that trick had only worked once. And it had only worked because Lena had permitted her access to her body in a moment of folly. Twice was out of the question. She circled her niece and swallowed her loathing. The friendship bracelet...that had potential. It was imbued with Lena's feelings for Webby and it would be ironic indeed to use that to restore her to her former glory.
Her physical body lay locked up in a prison in Duckberg, but no mere bars could restrain Magica de Spell. As soon as she had a binding agent, she would awaken and wreak havoc on the fools who had thought to capture her. She circled the bracelet and drew upon Webby's misery, as well as Lena's own hatred for her aunt. The more they thought of her, the more powerful she grew.
"Get away from me!" Lena hissed. "Not again!"
"Did you really think you were doing anything more than delaying the inevitable?" Magica countered. Yes...she could feel the bracelet's strength. It was only working because Webby's thoughts were now linked to Magica and Lena's loathing of Magica had increased exponentially since seeing Webby's unhappiness. She winked at her niece.
She'd be back. There were a few things she had to put in order before restoring herself, but she thought she could manage it soon. The sooner, the better. Lena had to pay. And simply living in subpar arrangements was not what Magica had in mind.
She sneered at Lena before dispersing through the underground. As she did, she paused, hearing bragging. The Bloodhound Gang was tormenting the Beagle Boys with how much better they were at handling crime without bungling things and how they could wound Scrooge without ever touching him. Curious, Magica advanced. What did they propose to do?
Once she heard, she cackled, startling the two groups. No wonder Webby was so distraught. Someone had dared to lay a hand on Scrooge's precious great-niece. Moreover, it was because of Magica's actions that Webby had darted out into dangerous territory. Oh, she loved this turn of events. This was the best of all possible outcomes.
She could lay low and play dumb for a few days. Afterward, she had plans for the Bloodhound Gang. If they could capture Webby once, they could do so again. And this time, they could really injure Scrooge. Short of killing the girl, torture would work wonders. And it'd bring Lena running.
Of course, Webby was not without defenses of her own. Magica was well aware that the only reason the Gang had gotten the drop on her was that she'd been unarmed. Had it been a fair fight, Webby would've demolished them. Good thing Magica didn't believe in fair fights.
Any advantage she had, she intended to use to its fullest. And even if everyone's guard was up, they couldn't defend against attacks on all sides. Now...she needed to figure out how to manipulate the brats and divide Scrooge's attention. Divide and conquer.
She cackled again, ascending to the surface. She'd better not get ahead of herself, however. She had planning to do.
Launchpad was relaxing and watching his favorite TV show, Darkwing Duck. It was weird, but he always felt like they belonged together somehow. When he was watching it, he felt like he was really at Darkwing's side fighting bad guys and flying the Darkwing 'copter. Part of him recognized this as hero worship, but he didn't really care. He loved Darkwing.
How awesome would it have been to meet Jim Starling? Launchpad could barely imagine it. The thought excited him to no end. And for there to be a real Darkwing Duck...he'd probably hyperventilate, he'd be that enthralled.
He had a vague idea of what had happened to Webby last night and wondered if someone like Darkwing could help clean up Duckberg. With Gizmoduck's help, of course. Launchpad nodded to himself. Yes, Darkwing would be just the guy for it.
If only he existed…
A week passed, in which Webby got little to no sleep and Scrooge was on the warpath. As he had suspected, someone had already gotten to the Bloodhound Gang and despite his and Lena's best efforts, he was unable to locate them. Webby had already suffered without her grandmother and coupled with her attack, she was faring poorly. The boys were beside themselves with worry and somehow, Scrooge was equating this with his failure to protect Della. Again, he'd failed to protect someone he cared about and this time, it wasn't like she was an adult who'd made her own choices. Webby had reacted to stress badly and someone had taken advantage of that.
Without Mrs. Beakley preaching caution and with Donald only telling him to be careful, Scrooge found himself frustrated. He needed to get Webbigail a therapist. Scrooge didn't hold with such nonsense, but he was genuinely concerned about how much Webby was withdrawing. She wasn't behaving at all like her normal self and if it hadn't been for Lena's appearances, she might have withdrawn into a shell completely. The boys weren't having much luck drawing her out, to their frustration.
Where the hell was the Bloodhound Gang holing up that he couldn't find them, even with his best trackers on the case? Money couldn't solve everything, as he'd learned the hard way when he'd lost Della. But he refused to believe that someone who had done such grievous harm to a young girl could escape without any repercussions. It was galling.
But while he stewed over his inability to exact vengeance for Webby's suffering, Magica was otherwise occupied. She'd regained her corporeal form, albeit with a few snags. She'd turned green, for one thing. She had also lost her chest, but that was a trifle. All in all, she was satisfied, given that she blew up her cell bars and then waltzed out, killing the guards before they could raise the alarm and then sequestering herself in the underground area in Duckberg to prevent a manhunt.
She was glad to see that Lena was growing desperate to reach Webby and that she'd managed to snag the Bloodhound Gang out from under Scrooge's beak. She had resources too, after all, and the means to protect her investments. Now, however, she needed to be careful. She still hadn't made up her mind how to divide and conquer, only that it was necessary. She needed to find something that would utterly distract the brats and leave Webby vulnerable so that Lena would come crawling back to her.
For that, she'd need to know the triplets' weaknesses. She'd have to spend more time around the manor, provided Scrooge didn't notice her presence. Scrooge was such an irritating old codger. She wanted to wring his neck too. (Yet a part of her was glad he was alive, because what would life be like without a good enemy?)
Jim Starling had come to Duckberg and was signing autographs, but his attention had been drawn to an orphan girl named Gosalyn…
Webby woke up from the fifth nightmare in a row with her chest burning and her grandmother's demise, this time as solely Webby's fault, seared into her mind. She felt arms around her and she struggled, trying to fight whoever it was off because like hell did she want to be touched right now. Someone fell off the bed and groaned, a sound that was very familiar and jolted Webby out of her nightmare entirely.
"Ow! All I did was hug you!" Louie said. "What gives, Webby?"
"I'm sorry," she said, abashed. "I thought you were trying to attack me."
"Attack you with affection, maybe!" Louie retorted.
"I'm sorry, okay?" she said and her lower lip quivered. She fought the temptation to cry. "I'm not sleeping very well. You can come back on the bed."
"I know you're not sleeping well. The whole house knows you're not sleeping well," Louie countered, but his tone was gentle and he laid his hand on hers. "I came to check on you."
"You alone? What about Dewey and Huey?" she said, looking about for the other boys but seeing no one.
"Eh, they're not with me all the time," Louie said, shrugging. "What was the nightmare about? Can you tell me?"
"It was about Granny," she said, looking aside. "I keep dreaming she dies in different ways and somehow, it's always my fault. There's always something I should've done to stop it or a shot I should've taken or something else I could've prevented."
"There was nothing you could've done," Louie said and scooted closer to her on the bed so that their legs were touching. "You know that."
"For all her training…" Webby swallowed against a lump in her throat. "You know what's weird? It feels like these nightmares have gotten worse in the last few days. I'm probably being paranoid, but normally, there's at least a decent dream to nightmare ratio. Now it's all nightmares and they feel very personal."
"Aren't nightmares normally personal?" he asked and she smiled weakly.
"I mean...I get the feeling that we're being watched," she said.
"Scrooge does have security cameras, but I don't think they're in our bedrooms," he said. "Or are they?"
He cocked his head to scan her room and she sighed.
"That's not what I meant. But anyway, this is going to sound stupid…" she said and he gazed at her intently. "I might be able to sleep better if someone stayed with me. I had nightmares before, but they were fewer. Will you stay?"
She looked up at him and Louie gazed at her earnestly. She could feel her heartbeat skitter around in her chest.
"Of course I'll stay," he said. And then, to cover up what he'd said, he added, "It's not like I have anything better to do, anyway."
"Of course not," she agreed and punched him gently on the shoulder. That was a thing boys did, right? He smiled at her and, to her surprise, he curled up next to her on the bed. She moved a little closer, so he could hold her if he wanted. She realized this might not be the best idea, but she was too tired to care.
"G'night, Louie," she said, yawning.
"G'night, Webby," he said and then, just before she fell asleep, she could have sworn she heard him say, "Take that, Lena."
Magica hissed. The brat had shacked up with the other brat, but no matter. She could target both of them with her nightmare fuel. Still, she was irritated that Webby was deriving comfort from Louie. The boy had wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder. She wanted her miserable, damn it. This was not the look of an unhappy child. Webby's features had relaxed into normal dreaming and Magica couldn't abide it.
She growled, wondering at what point she ought to intervene and cut the happy-fest short. Webby turned around in Louie's arms and snuggled closer to him. If Magica had had any maternal instincts, she might have been tempted to leave them be. Webby looked so content, it was sickening.
Magica knew this was the first uninterrupted sleep Webby had had in two weeks. She also knew it was the first time that the girl had felt secure in her environment. She could torment Lena with this news, although Lena was unlikely to believe it, considering the source. Or she might wave it off. No, Magica needed to nip this in the bud. Webby needed to be off her game and ripe for the taking.
She closed her eyes and whispered a few choice words under her breath. A vague, shapeless shadow drifted from between her hands and split into two, heading for the two slumbering children. With her shadows directing their dreams, she ought to see what Louie feared. In fact, this might be the opportunity she'd been waiting for. Having insight into the brats' terrors was a way to implement her plan.
Which child to follow first? She knew Webby's fears, though she soaked them up eagerly. Webby whimpered, the nightmare starting again. Louie's arms tightened in response and Magica snickered to herself, wondering if Webby would hit him again.
Seeing as she knew nothing about the brats, she decided to drop into Louie's nightmare first.
"It's your fault Della left," Scrooge growled. "She couldn't handle the pressure of having you three."
"How can you say that?" Louie protested. "You said she loved her family."
"I didn't say she wanted children," Scrooge spat. They were standing in what to Louie was familiar, though Magica didn't recognize the ship surrounding them. It was teetering back and forth as if it were stuck on a precipice. Magica ignored that.
"As for your father, as soon as he found out Della was pregnant, he bailed," Scrooge said dismissively.
"No one wanted you brats besides your Uncle Donald and to be honest, he only took you because no one else would."
"That's not true!" Louie cried. "Uncle Donald loves us! And...and you said you did everything to bring Mom back! You're lying!"
"I'm not lying," Scrooge hissed. "You three have been nothing but trouble ever since you hatched. You should never have come back."
Louie trembled, the effort of holding back tears making his throat tight. Webby wasn't here, which was odd because he knew she'd been here originally. His brothers weren't looking at him either, making him feel isolated. Scrooge's ire seemed reserved for Louie in particular and he wasn't sure why he'd been singled out.
"You needed us!" Louie objected, hating how weak his voice was. "You needed us to help defeat Magica. And you apologized to us and you said you were lashing out because you were afraid of losing us, so you pushed us away before you could."
"Bah, and you believed that? You're a bigger sucker than I thought you were, lad," Scrooge sneered. He slammed his cane down on the floor and Louie jumped. There was a cold, cruel gleam in Scrooge's eyes, one that sent chills down Louie's spine.
"I'm not a sucker," he whispered. "You're lying. You don't mean any of this."
"Della left the week you three hatched," Scrooge growled. "She knew you were about to be born and she chose to leave because she'd rather do that than raise you three whelps."
"You're wrong," Louie said, but his tone lacked conviction. "Mom loved her family. Mom loved us. She didn't abandon us."
"No?" Scrooge retorted and Huey and Dewey were gone. He looked around for them, but they were nowhere to be seen. Now he really was alone. His lower lip quivered.
"Seems a bit coincidental that she left when she did, then. Almost like she knew and deliberately missed your hatching."
"She didn't know. She couldn't have known," he retorted. His heart thudded dully in his chest. He looked around, frantic for someone or something to save him. Even Launchpad and Mrs. Beakley were gone.
Scrooge rounded on him and there was nothing remotely affectionate in his gaze. It was searing hatred, the same as he'd seen on his face right after they'd rescued Webby. It had frightened him then and it unnerved him now.
"Get out of my sight, lad," he growled. "I'm sick of your face. I'm sick of you and everyone else in this family. GET OUT!"
Louie awoke with a gasp, unable to suppress the tears that choked him. He hugged Webby to him; the other duckling was having a nightmare too. She was whimpering and kept trying to protect herself to no avail.
"Webs…" he whispered. "Webby, wake up."
Magica smirked. "She won't wake, brat."
Louie whirled, sitting upright but still holding Webby to him, almost like she was a shield. "What are you doing here? How did you get in?"
"How do I usually get in?" she sneered. "Your lack of security is appalling. And she won't wake, not until I let her."
"You let her?" he repeated. He swallowed past a lump in his throat. "You're the reason I just had that nightmare."
"Bingo. And after a dream like that, can you really trust Scrooge?" she sneered. "He kept the secret of Della for so long. And as for your uncle Donald? He only took you because he felt guilty. Or do you really think that anyone cares for you three brats? You're just worthless orphans."
"Uncle Donald cares!" Louie retorted. He was shaking and clinging to Webby.
"Uncle Donald loves us!"
"Or does he?" she taunted and then, without another word, launched herself into Webby's nightmare.
Webby's chest ached and she watched her grandmother fall slowly, painfully. The look of surprise on her grandmother's face broke Webby's heart. She'd flung herself in front of Webby to defend her against Magica's attack and perished for it. Yet, unlike in real life, Mrs. Beakley turned toward her. Her features remained locked, but her voice issued from her gaping mouth.
"You killed me."
"No," Webby breathed, stepping back. Whereas in real life, the triplets, Donald, and Scrooge had been there, she was alone. "No, it's not my fault. Magica did this."
"You killed me."
"No!" Webby cried. "You jumped in front of me to save me. I couldn't have done anything. I couldn't…"
She swallowed back sobs. She wrung her hands and forced herself to calm enough to respond. It was hard, when her vision swam with tears and all she could see was her grandmother, frozen in the moment of death. Webby couldn't wrench her gaze away.
"If you hadn't been so obsessed with Scrooge McDuck, this would never have happened. Magica would've left us alone if we hadn't inserted ourselves into his life like this. You killed me."
"You chose to work for him!" Webby retorted, struggling to maintain composure. "It's not my fault!"
"Yes, it is," Mrs. Beakley said, implacable and unmoved. "I should've known when your parents foisted you off on me that you'd be nothing but trouble."
Webby balled her fists in her skirt. "This isn't you. This is a nightmare. You'd never say this to me. I know my granny."
"Do you, child?" Magica taunted, drifting closer. "Are you glad she's dead? She was always holding you back, you know. She was overprotective and never let you make friends your own age."
"She was protecting me and she did a good job until I messed it up," Webby said, lower lip quivering but refusing to cry. Not again. "You. You're behind this."
Magica laughed, shrugging at her. She propped Mrs. Beakley up and although Webby knew this was a nightmare, she retreated a step when her grandmother spoke again.
"You wouldn't be having this dream if you didn't believe it was true," she said. "You killed me. You killed me, Webbigail. You killed me."
"No!" she cried. "You had a choice!"
"You weren't even worth protecting. The minute I die and leave you, you go and get yourself raped."
Webby froze. She knew this was a nightmare, true, and she very much wanted to wake up now. This time, the sobs threatened to erupt and Mrs. Beakley rounded on her. The foyer disappeared and Mrs. Beakley pushed Webby against the wall. Magica was lurking behind, her eyes gleaming with hatred.
"You brought it on yourself. You deserved it for being willful and disobedient. It was your fault. If you hadn't run away, you wouldn't have been attacked. If you hadn't let them touch you…"
"I didn't let them do anything!" she protested, her voice a weak, tremulous thing. "Granny, I fought. I didn't lie down and take it...Magica...stop…"
Magica laughed. "You're weak, brat. You're weak and no amount of training will fix what's wrong with you. They saw you, the real you, and they knew you were ripe for the taking. You. Deserved. It."
She waved her hands and the Bloodhound Gang appeared, as well as Huey, Dewey, Louie, Scrooge, and Lena. They joined Mrs. Beakley and chanted, "You deserved it! You deserved it! You deserved it!"
"NO!"
Magica had seen enough. A cruel smile curving her lips, she took her leave.
Webby screamed, waking again and sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. She felt someone hug her, but a flash of green in the side of her vision told her it was Louie.
"It's Magica," he said, hugging her tightly. "She's giving us nightmares. Whatever you saw, it wasn't true. Breathe, Webs."
Her lower lip quivered and she worked on mastering herself. It wasn't her fault. She hadn't deserved it. She hadn't done this to herself. Magica was wrong. No one deserved to be raped. And no one she loved would ever tell her that. They loved her. They wouldn't hurt her. She swallowed another sob.
However, just because she told herself that didn't mean she believed it. She shuddered, clinging to Louie.
"I hate her...I hate her…" she breathed.
"Shoosh, I know," he said, stroking her hair. The door opened and Huey and Dewey entered.
"Sorry…" she gasped, trying to still her sobs. "I didn't mean to wake you up."
"You woke the whole house up," Huey said and frowned. "Both of you. What the heck is going on?"
"Magica was here," Louie said, taking over for Webby. "She's been giving us nightmares. She's up to something."
"I thought we were going to talk before you did something like this," Dewey said, giving Louie a dirty look.
"You snooze, you lose," Louie said. "You want her, you gotta fight for her."
She chose to ignore that. She clamped her beak shut on further whimpering and clenched the blanket, releasing it only when she thought she could speak without crying.
"We didn't destroy her like we thought," Webby said. "She's back."
She clamped her beak down on another sob and added, "She's here to hurt me because I turned Lena against her."
"That doesn't explain my nightmare," Louie said.
"Or ours," Huey replied. "Everyone in this house is having nightmares, Webs. She must want something
else besides tormenting you."
"You three are related to Scrooge, so you're good pawns for her," she said, ignoring their outrage at her statement. "And I'm the reason she lost Lena. But this can't be the only thing she's doing. Huey's right."
"We can't wait for her to show her face," Huey said and pounded a fist into his palm. "We need to take the fight to her."
"How?" she asked. Magica's taunts rang in her head. You brought it on yourself. You. Deserved. It.
"Gimme a few hours," Huey said. "I'll come up with something."
"In the meanwhile, we should try to get some sleep," Louie said and shuddered. "Hopefully, dreamless this time."
"All right, but I'm staying with Webby this time," Dewey proclaimed, glowering at the youngest triplet.
"I'm gonna get something to eat," Louie said, shrugging, feigning nonchalance.
"Wait," Webby said. "What did you dream about?"
"The Sunchaser," was all Louie said before leaving. Webby gazed downward, thinking of the Spear of Silene incident. She was sorry she'd asked.
"That's what we dreamt about too," Huey said quietly, sitting beside Webby. "Maybe we should plot now and sleep later."
She nodded. Doing something was better than ruminating on this debacle. She fingered her wrist, where the friendship bracelet had been before she'd given it to Lena. Lena. How was she doing?
And if Magica was doing this to them, what must she be planning for her niece?
