Author's Note: Yeah, this chapter is longer than usual. Not your imagination.

Chapter Six: Centuries

It was a mark of how little restful sleep Webby had received in the last few weeks that she relaxed against Lena for two minutes and fell fast asleep. Lena smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist. She didn't sense Magica about, although her senses were alert to her. It'd be good for Webby to have a dreamless sleep or, at least, a pleasant one if not dreamless.

Lena found a throw blanket and pillows and tucked her in. Now that the younger girl was asleep, however, Lena's thoughts drifted back to Scrooge. She understood his frustration, she shared it, but she hadn't appreciated being the target of his ire. Yet she was also the only one who could move among the criminal element without difficulty. With the underground denizens being ousted, there had to be somewhere else they flocked to. Somewhere that Scrooge didn't know about.

Terrible things would happen if they played into Magica's hands. Lena didn't delude herself into thinking that Magica was finished with the McDuck clan or Webby. Webby's head was against her shoulder and she felt guilty because she was about to wander through Duckberg's worst neighborhood and explore. Someone had to do it.

Webby should be safe enough in the manor.

She extricated herself from the younger girl, kissed her on the forehead, and left the room. She slid the door behind her closed, quietly enough so that it shouldn't rouse Webby. To her consternation, Scrooge stood on the other side. Lena tensed.

"It's time we go on a scavenger hunt, lass," he said in an undertone. "Is she asleep?"

"Yeah," Lena said. "And, no offense, but your usual method of travel and clothing isn't going to cut it in the neighborhoods I'm thinking of."

"I'll change," he said and his expression was stern. "What would they think if they saw an older man with a teenage girl?"

Lena grimaced. "That we have a business arrangement. An...understanding."

Scrooge's eyes narrowed and he raised his hand; Lena flinched, anticipating a blow that never came. Scrooge squeezed her shoulder.

"I've been rough on you, lass, and I'm sorry for that. I'll go change and then you'll show me where you think they could be holing up. I'm tired of waiting."

Lena's lips twitched. It wasn't quite a smile, but it was the best she could muster. "You and me both."

It took Scrooge (and then Launchpad, because she guessed he wanted to look like a street tough) a good hour to get everything together. Webby remained asleep and Scrooge had reassured the boys that Webby was in need of a good nap. They promised they'd check in on her from time to time, although they also looked like they were in need of a good nap. Magica's nightmares were wreaking havoc on everyone.

With some apprehension, she set out with Launchpad and Scrooge. She couldn't help but feel they were leaving Webby defenseless, but Webby could defend herself, provided she wasn't faced with guns and knives like she'd been before. (That part, at least, Webby had admitted to them). Nonetheless, she was uneasy as they left McDuck Manor behind and went to the seedier part of town.


"This is a welcome surprise," Magica said. "I'm glad I didn't hire those third-rate henchmen now."

Webby groaned, wishing Magica would go away. She wasn't quite awake and didn't intend to return to consciousness. She reached out for Lena and came up short. This jolted her completely awake and Webby sprang to her feet after throwing the blanket aside.

"You!" she snapped.

"Yes, yes, me," Magica said and rolled her eyes. "You'd think with all of my break-ins, Scrooge would install better security."

"What do you want?" Webby asked, wary. "You're obviously not here to give me more nightmares or you would've let me sleep."

"Oh, no," Magica said and smiled serenely. "I'm not here to give you nightmares. I'm here for more...pressing matters. If you would simply surrender and come with me, I'm sure we could reach an agreement."

"You won't get me without a fight," Webby snapped, assuming a defensive position.

"Don't be so sure, darling," Magica said and snapped her fingers. Webby froze, her whole body paralyzed and fell over onto her face. Magica rolled her over and smirked down. Webby could barely breathe; it felt like a massive pressure was pushing on her chest. Only her eyes could move freely and they roamed the room to no avail. If the triplets were nearby, they were out of earshot and wherever Lena had gone, she wasn't close either.

"Now, I'm sure you remember a certain theatre where you first met Lena's acquaintance?" Magica sneered and punted Webby in the side. It stole her breath away, the kick being akin to having a door slam into her side, and she gasped for air. Her eyes filled with tears from the pain and she glowered back at the older woman, seeing as that was all she could do at the moment.

"Yes, yes, we're all very impressed with your ability to stare me to death," Magica said and stifled a yawn. "Let's go."

Before her eyes, Magica transformed into Della Duck. Webby hissed, unable to push the sound past her beak. Magica smirked, hoisting her up and into her arms like the very picture of motherhood. Webby wanted to struggle, to kick and fight her, but could still barely breathe, let alone engage her. This was like one of her worst nightmares come to life. Where was Magica taking her? She tried screaming in her head but to no avail. Unlike the triplets, there was no one who could understand she was in danger by thinking about it. They probably thought she was sleeping.

"Fortunately for you, I can do a reasonable impression of Della," Magica continued and Webby's loathing mounted. She could feel saliva gathering in her mouth, but couldn't spit at her. She couldn't do anything, which was the most frustrating thing.

To Webby's astonishment, Magica didn't sound a thing like her normal self. Whether she sounded like Della remained to be seen, as only Scrooge and Donald would've been able to tell. (She didn't want to think about why Magica could mimick Della's voice). It probably didn't matter how authentic it was, since it wouldn't have to stand up to close scrutiny. The boys would have no idea what their mother sounded like,

Scooping Webby up into her arms, Magica headed for the boys' room. Without hesitation, she pushed the door open to discover the boys sleeping, Huey curled up on his pillow with the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook beside him on the pillow, Louie upside down and dangling off the bed, and Dewey in a small ball. Webby's heart ached to see them and she screamed in her head for them to be on guard and wake up, not to trust "Della".

The harder she tried to draw breath, the worse it became. It felt like someone was pressing a heavy weight onto her chest and she struggled to draw in air and expel it. She shuddered, straining, and Magica dumped her unceremoniously onto the boys' table in the center of the room. Webby whimpered, an involuntary reaction to her bruised side colliding with the wood. Magica smirked and let Webby lie there before pushing her onto her face.

The younger girl was definitely not thinking kind thoughts right about now. Rather, she was thinking the sort of things that would have gotten her a scolding from her granny.

Magica surveyed the triplets before deciding on Dewey. Dewey was the most vulnerable because he'd spearheaded the search for their mother and had been desperate to find answers. All three boys missed their mother, but Dewey was the weakest link. Webby tried to issue a warning growl, but that required more air than she had and she ended up gasping.

"Dewey," Magica implored and shook him.

C'mon, Dewey. Don't fall for it.

Dewey stirred after about half a minute of shaking and stared around him, bleary-eyed. Webby panted, flailing mentally and getting nowhere. Look at me, Dewey. Look at me.

"Mom?" the middle triplet murmured. "Mom, what are you doing here?"

The pressure on Webby's chest lessened, enough for her to breathe without seeing spots before her eyes. She found she could roll onto her side; it appeared that Magica could only maintain one spell at a time. Her effort to reproduce Della's appearance and voice meant she was focusing on her imitation and not on confining Webby.

"Mom?" Louie and Huey said and Louie fell off the bed. Webby rolled her eyes and slapped her palm on the table. Huey's gaze shot to her.

"Huey-" she hissed and her body froze again. This time, Magica had increased the weight on her chest so that her vision was breaking up into little black spots. She wheezed; the scene before had gone fuzzy on the sides.

"What's wrong with Webby?" Huey asked, suspicious. "And how did you know where to find us, if you've been gone for ten years? How did you get back? Scrooge said you were lost in a space storm. No one's heard from you for ten years and you just show up here out of nowhere?"

By this time, Webby's vision had faded out completely and she was drifting, her hold on reality tenuous. Magica might really suffocate her. Would she parade her around in front of Lena and Scrooge as a trophy if she killed her?

She slipped into unconsciousness, not hearing Magica's reply.


"Webby!" Huey yelped and sprang out of bed. He collapsed a second later and "Della" turned on them. Her eyes shone black and she sneered at the children. Stepping back, she picked up Webby by her hair and dangled her.

"You're not our mom," Huey snapped.

"How would you know?" Magica crooned. "You've never even met her. At least I know what she sounds like. At least I knew her before she vanished. You three can't even claim that, can you?"

The jab struck home and all three flinched. Louie straightened up from the floor and glanced at Webby and then at the imposter and back.

"Let her go," Louie ordered. He balled his fists and stared the adult duck down. The older woman didn't even flinch. If anything, she looked amused at his petty defiance.

"Or I could continue to suffocate her if you three don't come with me," she said. "It's your choice. A couple of minutes or more and she'll be medically brain dead."

"Leave her alone!" Huey burst out. "What do you want with us?"

The imposter snorted and changed back into Magica, to no one's real surprise. Their gazes were linked to Webby, who hung limply in Magica's grip.

"I want you three to come with me," she said. "And I'll let the brat live. For now."

She tossed Webby onto the floor and Webby gasped, drawing sharp, shallow breaths until she could breathe properly. Louie and Dewey fell to the floor beside her; both took a hand. She was trembling and hatred roiled in Huey's chest. Magica had come in here, imitated their mother, and then nearly killed Webby in front of them.

"Do you need another demonstration or will you come with me?" Magica scoffed.

"Don't you dare harm a feather on her head," Louie snapped. Huey's stomach roiling was competing with the hatred in his chest and he was worried, for a few seconds, that Webby might not rouse entirely. The amount of pain that caused was immeasurable, in the same league as someone pretending to be their mother to gain their attention.

"You're despicable," Huey growled.

"Darling, don't compliment me. I'm blushing," Magica replied. She waved her hand and the three of them hurried to assure that they were, in fact, coming. Magica desisted and Webby's eyelids fluttered.

"Della is Magica," Webby rasped out. "You can't trust her! She's Magica, she's not your mom!"

"We know," Louie said quietly. Magica snorted, standing over Webby, who flinched at the sight of her. All three boys were glaring daggers at Magica; like Scrooge had said after the Spear of Silene, when they'd finally gotten their family business sorted, they were all family. And Magica had almost killed one of them. He was sick with rage.

"Don't bother calling for Gizmoduck or Gyro," Magica added. "They're out cold."

She rubbed her palms together in glee. "Everything is coming along so much better than I'd hoped."

She must've applied a little pressure to Webby's throat, because the young girl gasped, curling onto her side and holding her throat. When Webby looked up at her again, her eyes were full of unshed tears.

"Stop it!" the three boys commanded in unison.

"This isn't the show yet," Magica scoffed. "This is just the rehearsal, brats. The main attraction is the Bloodhound Gang and I believe your little Webby knows exactly what that means."

Webby was working not to reveal the terror her words invoked, but Huey saw her shaking. He, along with his brothers, put a supporting hand on her to help her move toward the door. The look she shot Magica was pure venom and if the sorceress hadn't clearly had the upper hand, Huey might have wondered how wise it was to be in Webby's vicinity. Webby looked a combination of apprehensive and enraged.

"You're going to let them hurt me in front of them?" Webby gasped out, still working on regaining her normal breathing patterns.

"Don't be ridiculous," Magica said, waving her hand in dismissal. "Even I have my limits. It'll just be a show to bring your Uncle Scrooge and my apostate niece back and show them the error of their ways."

"But why would you team up with people like that?" Webby persisted. "You know what they've done. You've seen my nightmares. I know you're evil, but they're a whole different level of evil. They're, like, scum of the earth evil."

She shuddered again and Louie and Dewey squeezed her hands. Huey squeezed her shoulder.

"Sometimes, in my line of work, we have to do things that are distasteful," Magica responded. "I won't let them touch you again in that way."

Webby stopped, causing the boys to either walk into her or halt too.

"Why do you care how they hurt me?" she asked. As none of them were under a geas, Webby rounded on her. Huey was impressed by her courage, even though her hands were bunched in her skirts and her body quivered like a plucked string.

"Because, brat, there are some things I will not abide and that is one of them," Magica said. She sounded irritated she had to quantify this. Webby's gaze swept the perimeter and Magica sighed, forcing them to march ahead of her. It looked like question and answer time was over.

Except Magica had taken control of their bodies, not their mouths, and Webby was determined to wring answers from her.

"So, murder is okay, but you draw the line at rape?" Webby asked and for the first time, her voice betrayed her nerves; it shook too. Seeing as Magica had compelled them to walk as they had been, Louie and Dewey turned to look at her. Huey was stunned and would have stopped to look if he'd had a choice in the matter.

It was the first time Webby had voiced aloud what had happened. The triplets exchanged glances. They were aware of the word and had a vague idea of what it meant. They hadn't known it had happened to her.

"Webby…" Huey said and he didn't know what he was pleading her for, just that he was pleading.

"Yes, I draw the line at rape," Magica snapped. "What do you think I am, a monster?"

"Lena sure thinks so," Webby muttered. She glared at Magica. "And after what you did to my granny, I agree with her."

"Enough!" Magica snarled. "Enough with the questions, enough with the lack of progress. From now on, none of you are saying anything. Do you understand?"

Seeing as they were no longer capable of speaking, all four could only nod.

"Good," she snapped. "You're much more pleasant when you're not talking."

Left alone with his thoughts after Webby's admission churned his stomach. He wanted to talk to her, but his jaw was glued to his upper beak. He could turn his head to look at her and she had hers held high, despite everything. She was marching to an uncertain, terrible fate without flinching. Even though he was petrified, both for her and for them, he was also proud of her. Whatever the Bloodhound Gang had done to her, they hadn't broken her. Not yet.

It gave him a slim hope for the future and also raised a question. If Gyro and Gizmoduck were out of commission, that still didn't explain where Scrooge and Lena had gotten off to…


They'd wandered around for a good hour to no avail. Thus far, they'd managed to avoid the real hoodlums, but Lena wasn't overly optimistic about that continuing. The fact was that if someone managed to steal Launchpad away, she and Scrooge would be worthless in a fight. True, she'd never seen Scrooge in combat, but how much good could he be? He was an old man with a grudge and a cane.

Even she didn't frequent this area, which meant she was as adrift as the others. Magica, in a self-centered attempt to protect her, had prevented her from wandering too far down these paths. After all, if Lena died, Magica would lose her vessel. (And if something else happened to her, she might not venture around to procure what Magica needed. It was never out of a sense of altruism).

"What if she's not here? What do we do then?" Launchpad asked, speaking the question that had been weighing on Lena's mind. His bringing it up grated her raw nerves. She wasn't happy to be spending time with Scrooge, even if he'd apologized. She knew he distrusted her, with good reason, and it only reminded her of how she'd been Magica's pawn.

"Then we keep looking until we find them!" Scrooge snapped. "We're not going to give up and let those lowlives get away with hurting my Webbigail."

"That could take hours," Launchpad pointed out. "We should come up with a plan."

"Well, Lena?" Scrooge prompted. "Do you have any ideas, lass?"

A phone vibrated and the three startled. Launchpad checked his pockets, but it wasn't him. And Lena didn't have a cell phone, not unless you counted the burner phones she used on occasion. But those were usually only for sending messages and calling people, not receiving.

Scrooge plucked the cell phone from his pocket and Lena and Launchpad unconsciously leaned closer to the billionaire to listen to the other side. Scrooge was too intent on the conversation to reprimand them. Magica's voice issued, tinny, from the speaker, and Lena froze. This was too coincidental for her liking.

"I have something you want," Magica crooned. "You've been rather careless, Scroogie, leaving your family unprotected like that. Say hi, Webbigail."

"It's a trap," Webby cried and Lena's heart wrenched. "She's-"

"That's enough out of her. She's quite chatty, but I assume you knew that," Magica crooned.

Scrooge gritted his teeth. "I assume you've captured my nephews as well."

"Poor little Webbigail could so use some companionship," Magica taunted. "Although your brats were quite annoying when it came to letting her meet the Bloodhound Gang. Rather overprotective."

The blood drained from Lena's face and Scrooge froze, one hand tight on his cell phone and the other squeezing his cane so hard it creaked. Launchpad alone looked baffled, but then again, Lena hadn't supposed Scrooge had filled the thirty-one-year-old man in on what was going on.

"Oh, don't worry," Magica added, Scrooge's rage searing the air between them and almost physical-it seemed Scrooge was so angry he couldn't speak-"I'd never let them hurt her that way. I'm not a monster."

"You release them this instant!" Scrooge roared. He didn't seem to notice that shouting in the middle of a bad neighborhood might not be the best idea. Lena cast a cautious glance over her shoulder. While she was sick with worry for Webby (and maybe a smidgen for the boys too), she was more apprehensive of what would happen should someone take notice of them here. Her well-honed reflexes told her that someone must've been alerted by now.

"I'd rather you came to see them," Magica rejoined.

As important as the conversation was, Lena's attention was drifting. They were standing in the middle of an alleyway and the shadows near the end seemed to be moving. It was daytime, so the fact there were shadows at all, much less that deep, unnerved her. It was almost as if the person within them had learned how to harness them.

Launchpad's gaze joined hers.

"Uh, Mr. McDee?" Launchpad said. "We might have more immediate problems."

"What's more immediate than the fact that Magica has my nephews and niece?" Scrooge demanded. Light glinted off a switchblade and Lena assumed a defensive position. She and Launchpad stood with their backs to Scrooge to protect him, although Lena was only doing it because Scrooge was the obvious target. He was older and perceived as infirm. Attack what won't fight back first.

"We have company," Lena hissed as four figures disentangled themselves from the shadows. Her heart skittered and she reached for the knife that Scrooge had commanded her to wear. Launchpad had assumed some sort of martial arts pose, which was just as well. Considering how often he crashed Scrooge's planes, cars, and anything else Scrooge required moved, she wouldn't have trusted Launchpad with a firearm.

"I'm gonna have to call you back," Scrooge said weakly and snapped the cell phone shut. Lena could hear Magica's frustrated growl in her head.

"Can you handle yourself in a fight?" Lena asked in an undertone. She knew it was borderline impertinent, but she didn't want to have to compensate for him if she didn't have to.

"Of course I can," he hissed back, offended. She refrained from rolling her eyes, but suffice to say, she didn't believe him. Then again, she supposed there was no point in doubting it now. There wasn't much she could do about it.

The four approached them and what she thought was a switchblade was a box cutter. That didn't alleviate her nerves much, but their outfits did. Her shoulders relaxed and she gave a brief, hysterical giggle. The Beagle Boys. They were inept, idiotic, and awful criminals; she was half surprised that the other ne'er do wells hadn't kicked them out. They didn't really do anything.

Nonetheless, they halted at the sight of the three of them. Perhaps something about Scrooge's expression said that he meant business, because they scurried up a short wall, jumped from there onto a fire escape, and then fled from sight. Harsh hysterical laughter kept burning her throat. It would've been ironic if they'd been held up at knifepoint right now, considering how on edge they all were.

But of course. The fucking Beagle Boys. She wasn't sure now if she wanted to gasp in relief or start sobbing out of worry.

"So breaking into my house is fair game, but heaven forbid attacking us in the street," Scrooge sniffed. He scooped the phone out of his pocket again and then moved forward, away from the blind alley. Lena's heart pounded in her chest as he redialed Magica. She didn't ask how someone who'd been out of touch with reality for fifteen years possessed Scrooge's cell phone number. She didn't see the point.

This time, she didn't eavesdrop. Her nerves were stretched taut, close to the breaking point. She didn't think she could take any more surprises. Harsh, hysterical giggling burned her throat and she hugged herself. She'd taken a few steps back from the two male ducks to isolate herself and in case a giggle snuck out. She knew what Magica was capable of. If she really wanted to, she could kill Webby. However, she'd hold off until they arrived. She wanted an audience.

"Right," Scrooge said, stowing the cell phone back into his pocket. A small, silver object fell out and Lena stared at it curiously before he shoved that aside too. It'd had a blue tip and resembled a screwdriver, except perhaps sonic? It didn't matter right now. It was just another distraction. They had enough of them.

"We're heading for the abandoned theatre," he informed them. Lena nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and Launchpad asked whether Scrooge wanted to take the limo. Lena didn't see the point in walking over there. Either they'd come back with Webby and the boys or they'd leave empty-handed. She didn't want to contemplate what would have precipitated that situation.

She used to live beneath the theatre before she'd separated from Magica. The theatre brought back old, unpleasant memories of their being connected and she'd moved to beneath the city instead. True, it wasn't exactly pleasant, being damp and dreary, but at least it didn't have any unpleasant associations.

She shuffled over to the limo, which Launchpad had parked out of the way. After Launchpad and Scrooge seated themselves, Lena watched the scenery blur past without anything standing out. She couldn't help but picture the worst case scenarios. She knew her aunt loathed Webby and blamed her for her niece "turning". That meant her aunt could be capable of anything.

As for the boys, they were insurance and possible participants, if Magica was feeling cruel enough. Lena pressed her forehead against the cool window glass and willed them to go faster. Never mind that if they did, Launchpad would probably crash the limo. Then again, he might crash the limo regardless.

She didn't think she could stand the waiting. The closer they got to Magica and her captives, the harder it became to squash her anxiety. Scrooge looked confident, as confident as he could be, she supposed, and she hated him for it. Didn't he know what Magica could do if she got away with it? Didn't he care? Or was he that arrogant to think he'd escape without consequences?

She placed her hands on her lap and then swallowed past a lump in her throat. Launchpad and Scrooge were talking, but their words fell over her like water and left no trace of their meaning. At one point, she thought Scrooge might have even addressed her, but she couldn't tell. It felt like her mind was full of noise. This was the first time she'd seen Magica in person since she'd escaped and killed Mrs. Beakley. No matter how little Scrooge regarded Magica, this was portentous.

"Lass," Scrooge said and laid a hand on her shoulder. She stirred, hissing, and he withdrew his hand.

"Everything will be all right."

Lena still didn't trust herself to speak. She stared at him blankly; her throat was too constricted to permit speech, anyway.

"It'll all work out," he said and all Lena could do was shake her head. In her world, Magica always won and she always suffered the consequences. She didn't remember what it was like not to fear her aunt. It was such an obvious conclusion that she couldn't comprehend why other people didn't fear Magica as she did.

"Have some faith in me," he implored and Lena tried to smile, but she couldn't move her lips very much. Scrooge sighed.

"At least have some faith in Webby," he cajoled. "She's stronger than she looks."

Lena didn't reply. All she could think of was her nightmare, where her aunt had transformed Webby into a doll and then blown her to pieces. Her throat ached and she glanced back out the window. As far as she was concerned, this conversation was over. There was nothing more to say, after all. What would be, would be.