In March of last year, I started my most ambitious Ducktales project yet, an M-rated superhero and supervillain au called Jailbird. That story reached 60 chapters and I have no intention of ever writing something that long and ambitious again, but I do have a few shorter projects I want to do.

Including a 20-chapter age gap au. Initially, it was based on a Tumblr post that I can't find anymore, but I've changed it so much that it doesn't really matter what it was based on. The point is, the age gap changes everything, and I've been having fun putting it together. Now that I've finally figured out the trajectory of the story, and have everything semi-outlined, I'm happy and excited to show you the first six chapters.


"What do you do for fun?" A simple question and Huey wanted to weep. A simple question that had the fifteen-year-old stammering. He could break the question down into two parts, answer what he enjoyed doing and what he did. Those were separate questions, circles that didn't overlap very often. What he did was take care of his eleven-year-old and nine-year-old brothers Dewey and Louie while their uncle was at work. At night, he worked a crappy minimum wage job at a burger joint, where he had to wear a tacky yellow ball cap, smile at customers, and end up reeking of grease.

"Oh, uh, I like to read." He hadn't had time recently to even do homework, much less relax and read a novel. Reading wasn't interesting enough to keep the conversation going so his school friends moved on to something else, but the words still haunted Huey. He'd been living someone else's life for so long. It didn't feel like him anymore.

In the few hours between that conversation and his shift at work, he had to put out several metaphorical fires and one literal one.

First, he had to deal with Louie, who was small, sensitive, and a scam artist.

"Huey, I found some money on the ground, I think you should have it." Heartwarming, right? But Huey just felt sad and suspicious.

"Where'd you get this?" Huey asked, grabbing Louie's wrist instead of the twenty.

Louie's lip trembled, all part of the act, "I found it, Huey. You're hurting me." Louie yanked his arm away, probably hurting himself way more than Huey had.

"You have to give it back to whoever you took this from. I don't want you stealing, Louie."

"I didn't steal it!" Louie snapped, crossing his arms and glowering up at Huey.

"Stop lying, Llewelyn."

"I'm not lying!" Louie's face was red at this point and he looked like he was going cry, more genuine than the crocodile tears Louie was famous for.

Huey crouched down, deescalating, "Hey, I'm sorry. I don't need to know how you got the money. But I do need you to stop worrying about that kind of thing. I don't want you to feel like you're responsible for providing for this family. You're nine."

"You're fifteen," Louie made a compelling point, one that Huey forced himself to ignore.

"Where's Dewey?"

"I dunno. I'm not my brother's keeper."

Unfortunately for Huey, he was his brothers' keeper. So he sent Louie off to work on homework and searched for his daredevil little brother, who was on the roof.

"Hey, what are you doing up there? Come down."

"Give me one good reason!" Dewey shouted back.

"I'm in charge."

Dewey grumbled but that was good enough of a reason and he began clambering down. When he got down it was obvious that he was wearing a life jacket and swim trunks.

"Tell me you weren't going to jump," Huey said, arms crossed.

"I don't want to lie to you," Dewey said, grinning.

"That makes one of you," Huey muttered before clearing his throat and slipping into lecture mode, "I shouldn't have to say this but you are absolutely not allowed to jump from the roof into the water."

"But I'm wearing a life jacket."

"Irrelevant. I'm going to ask you to stay off the roof for a while."

"Uncle Donald said that you used to climb up on the roof when you were even younger than me," Dewey pointed out, and Huey inhaled sharply. Huey remembered bird watching, earning badges when he'd still had time to be a Junior Woodchuck, Uncle Donald freaking out while mom-

"That's in the past," Huey put a hand on Dewey's shoulder, "Listen. I'm not always around, I need you to be careful so you don't get hurt. Louie looks up to you."

"He does?" Dewey lit up.

"Absolutely. So you need to be a good role model for him." Dewey nodded solemnly and Huey let out a sigh of relief. Another crisis was averted for now.

The literal fire was Uncle Donald's fault. He'd wanted to make Huey some food before work so he wouldn't have to eat at work but he caught the towel he was using as an oven mitt on fire when he took the undercooked frozen pizza out of the oven. Huey was quick to grab the fire extinguisher and Donald was quick to promise he'd get actual oven mitts since he wasn't a college student making brownies in his dorm kitchen anymore. Huey often wondered why his mind sometimes wandered toward the more obvious and adult solution before Uncle Donald's did. Like Uncle Donald went through life distracted, his mind and heart far away. They were both trying very hard to keep the family afloat but it was difficult. They shared heavy glances, sheepish and knowing. This family was a disaster but it was their disaster and they shouldered the burden together. Donald hated that Huey had to take on so much but he never let his nephew forget how grateful he was.

"Are you ready to go?" Donald asked as Huey put a lukewarm piece of pizza on a paper towel.

"Yeah."

"Alright, guys. Let's go drop Huey off at work," Donald had a knack for sounding cheerful even after a long day at work.

"Oh, I can walk." It was a theatrical event, to get his brothers in the car, both already grumbling about being old enough to stay home alone.

"It's gotten colder, I'll drive you." There was no use arguing, it was kind of nice being the one Uncle Donald was fussing over.

Uncle Donald made sure to tell Huey he loved him before the teen left to flip burgers and deal with frustrating customers.

Huey's mind often drifted when he worked and today was no different. He'd been going back to his friend's innocuous question all day, all the books he'd checked out from the school library only to return unopened. He wanted to read again, he wanted to be the kind of person he'd been as a child, devouring books, loving school, never falling asleep in class because of long hours at work the night before. Before he'd grown up to fill someone else's shoes he'd felt so much bigger, so much smarter. He had been curious and excited. He had climbed up on the roof.

The memory was vivid, his most vivid memory of her. He had been so young when he climbed up onto the roof because he wanted to see the birds better. He remembered the sun on his face, warm and glorious, the sounds of birds chirping and Uncle Donald panicking. But mom wasn't panicking. She climbed up next to him and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close, agreeing that the sky was a nice place to be, promising that she'd take him up in her plane sometime if he promised to stay off the roof. The warm feeling turned into searing pain and his eyes widened when he realized he'd splashed grease onto his hand. Without meaning to, a string of expletives left his mouth. He lived at a marina, he knew how sailors talked, but his manager didn't seem like a very big fan of sailors.

"Duck! Get over here!" His manager barked, and Huey, biting his tongue to distract from the burn, came over, looking remorseful.

"Did you just swear in front of the customers?"

"I got splashed by hot grease," Huey tried to explain.

The manager sneered, "That sounds like user error, Duck. If you can't behave in a professional manner at work then I'm going to have to let you go."

"What? No! Please, I need this job, please-" Huey wasn't given more time to grovel or use a line that would make his youngest brother proud, his manager simply shook his head.

"Give me your hat and apron, Huey," the manager said, putting out his hand to take the uniform. Ignoring the pain in his own hand, anger took over. Huey ripped off the ugly burger hat and apron and threw them down, grabbing his denim jacket from the corner and storming out the back, still muttering curses.

It had gotten colder, and his hand was really starting to hurt. It didn't take long into his walk for his anger to break down into grief. He was shivering by the time he reached home, it was getting late and his brothers were already in bed while Uncle Donald worked on bills at the kitchen table.

"Huey? You alright? You should have called me to come to get you if you knew you were getting off early."

"I got fired," Huey said, cold and exhausted. He had never been fired before, though it happened often to Uncle Donald.

Donald sprang up and pulled Huey into a hug, frowning when Huey winced.

"Is something else wrong?"

"I burned myself at work," Huey sniffled, trying hard not to cry.

"Oh, Huey… You've had a rough day, huh? Let's treat that burn and then you should get some rest."

"I'm so sorry," Huey mumbled, surprising Donald.

"Why are you sorry, bud?"

"I lost my job, I can't help anymore. And Louie's scamming people for money because he's worried about things and I'm supposed to make sure he doesn't have to worry about things and-"

Donald held up a hand to stop the frantic fifteen-year-old, "Huey, listen to me. It's not your job to provide for the family either. You're just a kid. I appreciate everything you've done for this family but it's going to be alright. It's my job to take care of you three and I promise I will figure out how to do that in a way that doesn't put so much pressure on you. I'll call in some favors, it'll be okay."

The wheels were already turning in Donald's head. He put a hand on Huey's shoulder and leaned down to kiss Huey's head, "I love you, Huey. I'm going to take care of things, I promise." Huey nodded, still barely keeping it together. Donald carefully bandaged Huey's hand, a tired silence lingering between them.

"Alright, off to bed. After tomorrow you'll have the whole weekend to relax." Huey actually laughed as he headed off to bed, but when he rested his head on his pillow, he began to weep silently, falling into a very restless sleep.

And Donald began making phone calls, knowing that if everything went as planned, he would make everything okay again. He just needed a little help.