Work Text:
“Duck Newton, you must understand. This isn’t a choice you are allowed to make. Your world, and the one connected to it, do not have time to wait for you to be ready.” Minerva pauses, waiting for Duck to answer, but he finds he doesn’t have anything to say to her. She audibly sighs and continues, “I am sorry, Duck Newton, but the monsters that haunt your world will not wait for you to, uhm, figure yourself out as you put it.”
The words get stuck in Duck’s throat, and when he finally gets them out, they’re clunky and heavy and smash through the last pieces of hope Minerva may have still had, “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
The figure across him stays silent, a hand coming up to her featureless face. Duck pretends he doesn’t notice the shakiness of her breath as she exhales.
Slowly, her form starts to shift and get more blurred, slowly fading away. “Duck Newton, you must reconsider.”
Duck, once again, stays silent and he lets Minerva fade back to where she’s from.
As soon as she’s gone, Duck collapses on his bed. Exhausted, and trying to ignore the guilt and shame gnawing at his insides.
“The monsters will not wait for you to figure yourself out”
Minerva’s voice rings through his mind at night, keeping him from sleep.
It’s not fair.
Duck knows it’s childish to think of it that way, but it’s hard not to.
It’s just… Not fair.
Sure, he doesn’t have his shit together and he has no plans once high school finishes, but he wasn’t supposed to have this come over and destroy his total lack of prospects.
Duck was just supposed to survive the disappointed look of his mother when she finds out he didn’t apply to any colleges, he was just supposed to deal with his shitty boss for the summer, he was just supposed to finally get his name changed, he was just supposed to take things slow.
Fighting monsters, saving the world, saving two worlds, whatever Minerva expects of him, Duck’s not made for that shit.
Duck’s decided he’s going to enjoy life slowly and not miss out on anything anymore. He’s not going to miss out on getting high with Juno and the others, he’s not going to miss out on the last few months of high school, he’s not going to miss out on any more french onion soup.
Still, the guilt of refusing Minerva eats at him. His decision isn’t selfish, not entirely. It’s understandable. Anyone with any sense of survival would have made the same choice. He’s sure of that.
But Minerva’s voice as she tries to convince to change his mind stabs right through Duck’s heart.
The first time, it had been pure disbelief. The time after that, when she saw Duck was serious, she’d been annoyed.
And now… Duck’s not dumb. She doesn’t need to say much for him to sense the despair in her words.
Duck wishes he could do it. He wishes he could really be what she thinks he is.
He wishes he were super strong, super brave, fated to save Earth, but he’s a realist.
And it’s just not fair of her to ask him to go get himself killed.
It’s just not fair that this has all fallen on his overwhelmingly empty plate.
It’s just not fair.
Duck breathes deeply. He can’t back down on this. He has to stand his ground and go on with his wholly regular life.
He has to refuse Minerva. He has to move passed this with his life.
It’s always better to feel guilty than to be dead