Realizations

"This can't keep going on," Dewey thought to himself as he wandered down the halls of McDuck Manor, his woollen jumper keeping him warmly snug in the winter weather.

The chill of the season was so bitterly cold that even the extensive and up-to-date heating system in McDuck Manor was working overtime to barely keep the cold out.

But Dewey was more concerned about the coldness in his heart. The coldness in what he was about to do.

He entered one of the mansion's many living rooms. Each living room had a large, balmy fireplace that kept the room temperature comfortably toasty. But as of the moment, Dewey started feeling a cold sweat run through his feathers.

Slowly, agonizingly, he pulled out a notebook from his shirt's inner pocket. The notebook that he had used to record what info he could find on his mother in the Money Bin Library.

He dragged his feet half-heartedly over to the fireplace.

"I love you, Mom."

And he tossed the book in.

"WHAT?!"

Dewey yelped and whirled about to find Webby standing in the doorway. He quickly motioned "shush" to her, and for her to come inside the room.

"Dewey… why would you do that?" she finally asked as she recollected her wits.

"It was a futile quest," Dewey simply responded, his eyes looking down and unable to meet Webby's.

"But… your Uncle Donald always says that family always helps family…"

"Whatever the reason my Mom had to take that spear and run with it, I'll never truly know," Dewey answered, still downcast, "And it's unlikely I ever will. But I'm certain that she gave her life in the service of something great."

"But I thought… I thought you weren't a quitter, Dewey," Webby stated, unbelievingly.

"I'm not quitting – I'm sacrificing, just like my Mom did. I'm sure of it," Dewey responded, finally looking into Webby's eyes, "And there is a difference."

"Webby," continued Dewey, "Whatever my Mom died for, it had to be for a good cause, ultimately. And she wouldn't want me to linger on something from the past, something that's impossible to attain. She'd want me to enjoy the life I have now – the life I'm certain that I only have because of her sacrifice. I've realized that, when all's said and done, I'm thankful for this life I have with my brothers, with my Uncle Donald, with Great Uncle Scrooge, and with Mrs Beakley and… and you."

Dewey closed his eyes as he blinked his vision clear of tears. He'd move on, he was sure of it. He had to – and he knew he could do it.

Webby, meanwhile, had her heartrate skyrocket with Dewey's last sentence.

"Does he really feel that way about me? Golly, I don't know for sure. But… there is one way to find out…"

Summoning her chipper spirit and courage (which had surprisingly diminished largely in the last few minutes – weird) Webby took slow steps forward. She was a thrill-seeker. And adventurer.

She was adventurous.

And Dewey was adventurous.

He was no Louie, who'd be happy to spend his days conceiving underhanded plans to make his living easy. He was no Huey, who chose cold, hard facts over optimism and hope and faith.

No, Dewey was himself. He was hardworking, yet at the same time fun-loving, and joy-giving. And – here's the important part for her – he was adventurous.

Dewey was Dewey. And there was nobody out there in the big wide universe like him. And Webby might not get that chance to bond and connect with that wonderful kind of duck inside his heart if she didn't pluck up her usual bravery and act.

Right. Now.

"Dewey…? Dewey?" Webby gently prodded verbally. This required delicacy, and though that wasn't her strong suit, she'd try her hardest. For him.

"Dewey… may I?"

The boy duckling slowly raised his head to her level, but still kept his eyes closed in mourning.

"May you what, Webby?"

"This," Webby quickly said, then jammed her beak against his before he could reply.

That's when Dewey finally opened his eyes. Literally, and metaphorically.

"She's… she's kissing me… she loves me. She loves… me…"

His mind was a blur as he raced through his thoughts, his fears, his jubilations and his doubts.

She was his best friend. She agreed with him, sometimes even more than his brothers did, and she spent a lot of time with him. Confiding secrets with him, having fun with him, sharing with him, consoling him (and him with her)…

Perhaps they were more than just best friends…

"Do I… do I really love her?"

The answer came quickly to him when they finally broke away from each other, gasping for breath but still embraced in each other's arms.

"Yes… yes I do."

Drabble came to exist because I'm a Dewey x Webby shipper.

Yeah, I know the writers said that they wouldn't have prepubescent kids get into a romantic relationship – and I applaud them for that.

However, romances can form in the darkest of times, and Dewey and Webby complement each other so much, that in a situation like this, I'd imagine they'd connect very well and very seriously on a deep level.

"Love is brightest in the dark."
– Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Cave of Two Lovers (one of the best Katara x Aang episodes there is)