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Duck was feeling, well... bad.
Disheartened.
It had been some time since Minerva had left and yet, still, he hadn't acclimated to that fact that he was just... normal.
Aggrivated.
Regular Duck, who couldn't fight. Duck Newton, the normal man who couldn't heal as fast or as well.
Worried.
Just being average meant that this job was now a lot more dangerous. He could get seriously hurt. Without the extra bit of supernatural buffer, he could die.
He shook his head and let out a puff of air, attempting to force down those emotions as he looked up at door to Indrid's RV. Duck wanted answers, and figured, since he couldn't ask Minerva, that Indrid might have some for him, somehow. Taking a moment to steel himself, he lifted his hand to knock against the slightly-battered door-- only to have it swing open, one Indrid Cold standing in the doorway.
“I figured I would give you a moment,” he said with a bit of a grin.
Duck deflated a bit. “Lemme guess, you already knew I was comin’, right? Saw it in your visions?”
“Not at all, actually. You’re not exactly a quiet man, Duck; less so with the snow.”
“Ah, hell,” Duck chuckled some, looking off to the side, “I s’pose that’s fair.”
A moment of silence passed between the two, Duck searching his mind for a tactful way to put things, before it was broken.
“Well, I’m sure you didn’t come here just stand out in the cold in front of my house,” Indrid stepped back into his home, “so come in and we can discuss whatever it is you want to ask me.”
“I was that obvious, huh?”
Indrid nodded, red glasses flashing in the light. It reminded Duck that Indrid was still Indrid. Special, different, the goddamn Mothman and he was just Duck. The reminder left a sour taste in his throat.
“Do you want something to drink, Duck?” those same red glasses were peering at him, “It may not be very good, but it will at least be warm.”
He looked away from them, nodding as his gaze turned down to his hands. He studied them, how they were clenched a bit tighter at the idea of his friends, of Indrid, now being so different from him; the more he tried not to think about it, the worse the thought stubbornly embedded into his mind. Normal Duck isn’t who he was supposed to be, it’s not what Ned and Aubrey needed and it’s definitely not who Indrid needed--
He was startled out of his thoughts by a cup suddenly entering his vision.
“I wouldn’t expect much, however, again, it’s warm.”
Indrid sat beside Duck on his couch, pressed into the corner with hands wrapped around an old mug.
“So Duck, what can I do you for?”
“I uh… Indrid you know the future, right?”
“I know many futures.”
“Can you maybe, look into mine?” he mumbled out, staring hard into his drink.
“Not quite. I can see the many different paths of time but I can’t tell you which one will end up being correct. And with you three, and with the sort of events you prevent or cause to happen, some of the futures I’ve seen before and some of the ones that I see now will completely change, or disappear. So short answer; no, I cannot foresee your exact future, Duck Newton.”
He sighed heavily, shoulders slumping.
“That was probably sort of rude to ask, wasn’t it? M’sorry.”
There was a light laugh, “Perhaps a bit, but I’ll forgive you this once. Clearly, you have something on your mind.”
“I take it you have some idea of what?”
“Some.”
Duck sighed again, shaking his head.
“Minerva’s gone, Indrid. She’s-- she’s gone and so is her power.”
“Mm.”
Duck turned to Indrid, off-put by his lack of response.
“Don’t you get it? I’m not the chosen anymore! I don’t have anything, no visions, no extra armor, and Beacon’s broken so I don’t even have a sword!!”
He rested his head in his hands.
“I’m not like you or Aubrey anymore. I’m just-- just an average man. I can get hurt, man! I could die. I’ll just be a hindrance.”
“Well--” Indrid placed a hand on his shoulder, “--if I remember correctly, Ned is an average man. He still seems to be a vital part of your team.”
“Ned’s--” Duck shook his head and tried not to think about the hand at his shoulder “Ned’s something else. He’s got confidence ‘nd the Cryptonomica is full of stuff he can use. I’m just… I’m just me.”
He turned to the man at his side, that same sour reminder at the fore of his brain.
“I’m just... Duck.”
A soft smile was sent his way.
“Even so, Duck, you’re still special to me.”
A beat of silence passed before it registered, and he blinked, a bit taken aback. Indrid moved his hand from his shoulder and coughed a bit, looking embarrassed.
“And I don’t currently see any futures you’re not in, if that helps…”
Duck made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, lifting his borrowed cup to his lips quickly.
“You’re still special to me.”
If there was a bit of warmth in his cheeks, well. Who’s to say it wasn’t just the steam?