Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If there was one thing Donald hated about himself, it was his almost supernatural bad luck. He can never seem to catch a break. 

Oh, did you get a new job? Well, now you don’t have one because the boss doesn’t like how you talk nor the explosion of anger that followed right after. Did you just fix your car last week? Well, apparently the engine’s busted again so now it won’t work. Did the weatherman say it was going to be a sunny day? Well, it started out sunny. 

Now it’s raining like no tomorrow, and this just so happened to be the day he forgot to bring his umbrella. Wonderful, absolutely wonderful. 

So, after he left his car in the hands of his usual mechanic (another busted engine, Donald?), who he suspects is actually purposely not fixing his damn car so Donald  has  to keep coming back and pay him more than he really needs to, and calling the boys that he’ll be home late and to prepare a hot bath when he does come home, he’s now navigating through the dark and rainy streets of Duckburg back to his houseboat. 

Donald cursed every deity he has ever heard of and encountered in his previous life as an adventurer as he dragged his rain-soaked self through the streets and hopes that he doesn’t get lost. 

If this was all that happened in Donald’s day, he would’ve taken that nice relaxing bath he wanted back at the houseboat, crash into his bed for a good long nap (not forgetting to give his boys a goodnight kiss, of course), and spend the next day job hunting again . 

But the world is rarely kind to Donald, so of course something else had to happen on his way home. 

Under the cover of rain, Donald noticed a small figure making its way through the streets and peeking through trash cans. Squinting his eyes, Donald notes that the figure looks like a- a child? What? 

Donald decided to see what the child was up to, and approached them. “Hey, kid,” he calls out and the child turned to face him. 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Another day, another garbage raid,’ Lena grumbled in her mind as she trudges through the barely lit streets of Duckburg. Of course, just her luck, it started to rain so now not only is she hungry she’s also soaking wet. 

She’s normally not so deep in these streets. Usually, she just hangs around the amphitheater, see what the Beagle boys were up to, sneakily steal the money that they stole first (so she’s technically not in the wrong there), and buy some food from the convenience store that she often frequents to. 

Today is not one of those days. Today is one of the days where she attempted to explore the areas around the McDuck manor to find a way inside so she can find the dime that her aunt Magica has so single-mindedly obsessed about for the last fourteen years, so much so that Lena is able to recite that revenge monologue that her aunt’s been practicing in her sleep (involuntarily, she might add).

Did she actually go through with it? Yes, she did. Did she find anything worth the time she’s spent wandering around like a stalker around the areas of the mansion? Hell no, and now she’s stuck out here looking for food in trash cans because she just spent her last dollar on bubble gum like a total idiot (the gum wasn’t even that good if she was being honest).

Had that been all, Lena would’ve just called it a bad day, scour the trash some more for edible food, head home, crash into her bed, and spend the next day thinking about yesterday’s experience and the valuable lessons she’s learned (no, it’s not sulking, shut up). 

But as if the world wanted to shove a fat middle finger right to her face at breakneck speeds, she wasn’t alone in these dark and dreary streets. 

“Hey, kid,” a voice calls out, and Lena felt her heart leap into her throat. It was a very quacky-sounding kind of voice, like a chain smoker that just came down with a terrible cough. With her luck, it’s probably some crook wanting to make easy money. 

Prepping up a fist, she turns to face her would-be assailant. “Alright, pal, touch me even once and I’ll deck you in the face so hard you’re gonna need an entire set of dentures to even smile.” When she caught sight of the other person under the thin light of street lamps, she was met with a sight of an equally soggy duck wearing what appeared to be a sailor uniform. 

“Easy, kid. Not gonna hurt’cha, just wanna know what you’re doing out in this weather scouring through trash cans,” says the grown-up duck who is also out in this god-forsaken weather, so really who’s the suspect here? 

Lena, rather than voice her thoughts, simply inched away from the duck. “None of your business,” she hissed. 

“And your parents?” 

“Down at nowheresville, working for nonyabusiness incorporated.” 

The older duck snorted before murmuring something far too soft (and incomprehensible, given his weird voice) for Lena to hear, though she did hear something like “runaway”. Lena continued to inch away. 

A hand quickly took hold of her sleeves. “Come on, kid,” the older duck said, tightening his grip when she tried to move away. “You’re coming with me to the police station.” 

Oh no. No way, now how. She is not going anywhere near any station, thank you very much. Lena opens her mouth to retaliate, but she was interrupted by a loud clap of thunder. 

Then the rain started pouring harder.

“Aw, phooey,” the older duck gasped, though Lena may have heard it wrong considering his quacky voice. “Ok, change of plans. You’re coming with me.” He then started to drag her. 

“Woah, woah.” Lena dug her feet to the wet pavement of the streets, to no avail. “I’m not going anywhere with you, pal.” 

“Look, my houseboat’s just near here, and I’d rather drag you over there than leave you out for some hoodlum to grab you and hold you for ransom.”  

Lena was caught off-guard by the term. Houseboat, she mouthed in silent bewilderment. Her head came up with an image of a full-on house floating precariously above sea water. This momentary distraction was enough for the older duck to drag her with little to no struggles, but oh did she try to get free. 

Lena wished she just stayed in bed this morning. 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

If there was one good thing that happened today, it was that Donald secured the houseboat extra tightly. It rocked and shook under the stormy weather, but held itself securely. 

“That’s where you live?” the younger duck scoffed. “How you haven’t drowned living in that, I don’t know.” 

To be honest, Donald often wondered about that too, considering his bad luck. But such things were not only dangerous thoughts, but also stupid thoughts. He’s Donald Duck, he’s never once crashed or sunk a boat in his life (barring a few times he’d rather not get into details on whose fault exactly it was). 

“Just be glad it’s not a typhoon, or that’s a real cause for alarm,” Donald replies before opening the door and stepping inside the houseboat with the girl in tow. “Boys!” he calls out, and in response, his three boys came popping in. 

“Good evening, Uncle Donald!” Huey greeted. 

“We just finished cleaning the houseboat just like you asked and without any babysitter,” Dewey declares, puffing up his chest with such bold confidence 

Louie was quick on the draw. “And since you promised to take us to Funso’s Fun Zone if we did all our chores before you get home—” 

“Which we did!” 

“Which we did.” Louie rolls his eyes before continuing. “We decided to set up your perfectly warm bath as a bonus.” 

“Although some of the water may have spilled and it’s not actually quite hot because, you know...” Huey waves his hand in gesture. “Weather, and stuff.” 

Donald’s brows furrowed. Right. He did promise that, didn’t he? Before he could reply, the girl behind him snorted. 

“Funso’s Fun Zone? You mean that place for babies?” 

That reply instantly drew the attention of the triplets as they tilted their heads to catch a look on their new guest. The triplets and the girl stared at each other a good long while, and Donald could almost feel them scrutinize each other.

It was Louie who broke the silence. “So who’s the soggy hot topic reject?”

And there goes the floodgates.

“Woah! Uncle Donald, where’d you find her?! Did you kidnap her? Tell me you kidnapped her! Don’t worry, Uncle Donald, we won’t tell!”

“Dewey! Look, maybe she’s just the daughter of one of Uncle Donald’s friends at work.” 

“Friends? I’d have heard about them by now.” 

Donald interrupts them. “Boys, this is...” he trails off, realizing that he never got her name. “What’s your name, kid?” 

“Up your butt.” The boys gasped at her reply. 

Donald inhales deeply. Okay. Alright. A runaway and a smart aleck, huh? Fine. He can handle those; he’s got plenty of practice. “Alright then,” he says before turning back to his boys. “Boys, this is Garbage Diver Mary.” He tries not to take immense satisfaction when he heard her choked gasp. “I found her in a dumpster, and she’ll be staying here until the rain settles down. Be nice, and have fun.” With that, Donald marches to the bathroom. 

His boys can handle the dumpster girl while he takes his well-deserved bath. 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

“Hey! Get back here!” Lena could only stare at the retreating form of the duck that brought her here. She shifts her attention to the three boys in front of her, who were staring at her intently. They were an oddly color-coded trio; one was red and wears a cap over his head (Lena shall henceforth call him Nerd because that’s what he looks like), one was blue with his hair sticking up unabashedly (this one shall be dubbed Tryhard), and the last one was green with his hands tucked away in the pockets of his hoodie, and coupled with his half-lidded eyes, he gave off a very laid-back feel (he shall be known as Lazy).

Lena can tell that she already doesn’t like any of them.

“So, what’s your story, dumpster girl?” Lazy asks, his brow quirking and his lips curling upwards like he just heard a joke that tickled his fancy.

“Louie!” Nerd chastises Lazy with a glare before fixing her an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. What my brother meant to say was where did Uncle Donald find you.” 

“Ooh, let me guess! Are you running from the law?! Did you get in trouble with some gang and got roped up in an unpayable debt and now you have to hide otherwise they’ll lock you in a box and throw you in the ocean?!” 

Lena can feel the headache coming in. She opens her mouth, a scathing reply ready to fire, but was interrupted when her stomach let out an audible growl because oh yeah, she hasn’t eaten anything yet. 

"Oh, that’s why,” the three of them said at the same time, which creeps Lena out because that can’t be natural. 

Nerd walks out which prompts Tryhard to lose interest and walk out as well with Lazy following suite, and Lena was left to awkwardly stand in her spot for a good long while to think about her situation. 

God, Lena wished she just stayed in bed this morning. That way, she didn’t have to deal with a kidnapping duck and his three creepy kids. If only she didn’t listen to her stupid aunt and just stuck to messing with the Beagle boys (heck, maybe even join them in one of their heists, at least that’ll be fun), then she wouldn’t be stuck out in the rain in the first place! 

“Here.” Nerd’s voice shook Lena out of her thoughts, and she was greeted with the sight of a sandwich. “It’s not a lot, but we’re not really very liquid right now.” 

Lena regarded the offered food with a good long stare. She doesn’t accept hand-outs. She’s been living on her own and doing just fine. She— 

Her stomach growls for a second time, and Lena barely registers the fact that she yanked the sandwich out of Nerd’s outstretched hands and wolfed it down, savouring the flavour of something that wasn’t junk food, snack bars or cheaply made cold rice meals. 

“Wow.” She hears Nerd remark, which makes her feel like punching him straight in the face for that. “Uh, we have some towels for you to dry in, but if you wanna take a bath, you’re gonna have to wait for Uncle Donald to finish.”  

Lena doesn’t pay him any attention, focusing more on savouring the sandwich she was eating. God, this was  so  good. 

A few minutes later, “Uncle Donald” (she’ll just call him Sailor) came out of the bathroom, looking very much relieved now that he wasn’t drenched in rainwater. The two of them shared a look, and yet another bout of long stares commenced. 

Sailor was the first to break the ice. “You should take a bath.” 

Lena will forever deny that her mouth hung open as she processed the statement directed to her. A bath. She never had a bath before (not counting those times where she shoplifted some soap and took a bath by the beach), and this was yet again something she didn’t know how to react to. The thought of an actual proper bath kind of made her giddy (oh god, what is she feeling? stop it right now).

“Uh, thanks, but I’m good.”

(Goddamn it, girl. Not cool, completely messes up our image)

Sailor snorts. “You’re taking a bath, young lady, you smell like you haven’t taken a shower in a month. I’ll drag you into the bathtub myself if I have to.” 

“Going! Thanks!” Lena rushes to where she thinks the bathroom is, while also cursing the fact that she just thanked her kidnapper. 

It didn’t take her long to find the bathroom, but Lena will never admit that she got a bit lost for a bit. 

The bathroom was small, hardly like any way she imagined it would be. But she is inside of a houseboat, and it was already small from what she can see outside, so she really shouldn’t have expected much. Lena stares at the bathtub before her, taking in its rather small appearance, and for reasons that eluded her, felt trepidation bubble within her chest. 

Why is she feeling this? It’s just a bathtub, no big deal. She went face to face with the Beagle boys, and even Ma Beagle herself at one point (though both scenarios were hardly anything bad now that she thought about it). 

Lena continues to inch closer, treating the bathtub like it was a ticking time bomb, until she’s close enough to lay a hand on its edges. She inspects it, and notes that it was smooth. Yes, it was smooth. And wet. Those are very important characteristics to take note of a bathtub. 

A knock on the door caused Lena to yelp in surprise. “Geez! Knock first, damn it!” 

A pause... 

“Uh, I did?” And now Lena just made a complete idiot out of herself. Great. Just let the floorboards swallow her now and end her embarrassment. “Anyway, Uncle Donald wanted me to give you some hot water for your bath, so uh... You decent?” 

Lena considered taking off her clothes and saying yes just to mess with Nerd, but ultimately decides against it lest she gets kicked out before she could experience an actual warm bath. “Yup,” she says, and the door opens with Nerd coming in with a kettle of boiling water. 

“Here you go. Make sure to properly balance out the temperature, you don’t want it to be too cold or too hot, just the right amount of—” 

“Okay, I get it! Just get out!” Lena shoos Nerd out before promptly shutting the door and locking it. 

Finally. She’s alone. Just her, the bathtub, and a kettle of boiling water. 

Lena quickly pours in the boiling water into the tub, mixing it in with the cold water before taking off her soggy clothes and shoes, and finally jumps into the bathtub with barely restrained excitement. 

Boy, did she immediately regret that. 

Lena yelps and flails as boiling hot water soaks her entire body. “Hot hot hot hot hot!” She reaches for the valve and turns it, releasing cold water into the tub and cooling it. She sighs in relief, posture relaxing as she sinks into the tub. 

“You okay in there?” Nerd asks from behind the door. “I heard screaming, and that’s likely you not really taking my advice or listening to it for that mat—” 

“Go away and leave me alone or I swear I’m going to punch you in the face!” 

“Got it! Sorry!” And Nerd quickly scurries away, leaving Lena to her bath. 

Lena sighs once more, and reaches for the soap. Oh, she is going to take her time with this. As she scrubs, Lena thinks about how riled up her Aunt Magica would be if she told her about this. 

... 

On second thought, she might just keep this to herself. No sense in letting the old hag ruin her fun (not that she’s planning on staying or coming back here at all, it was just a thought). 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

After finally wrangling the boys to bed (and didn’t that take forever with the arrival of the garbage girl), Donald lounges around in his kitchen and just relaxes.  He waits for the girl to show up so the two of them can finally address the elephant in the room. 

And as if summoned, the girl appears and is covered up with a red towel. The two of them gave each other a look before the girl clears her throat. “You got any clothes I could borrow or...?” 

Donald stands up from his chair. “Wait here,” he says and walks out of the kitchen to grab some clothes for the girl. 

A few seconds later, Donald comes back with one of his old sailor uniforms and hands it to the girl. “Sorry it doesn’t fit; I don’t really have anything for teenagers.” 

The girl takes it and puts it on. She looked ridiculous wearing a sailor uniform a few sizes too big for her, but he doubts she’ll complain about it straight to his face. 

“This is the stupidest thing I have ever worn.” Aaaaand she just proved him wrong. 

Donald snorts. “It’s either that or one of the boys’ shirts, and they won’t fit you any well either.” He gestures to one of the chairs. “Have a seat, kid. It’s time you and I actually have a talk about what to do with you.” 

Lena did as she was told and sat in one of the chairs. 

“Alright, kid, let’s start this nice and simple. What’s your name, and no back talk this time or I’ll put you in time out if I have to.” 

Lena scoffs, but the stern look he gave her assures her that he will go through with his threat. “Lena,” she replies.

“Lena...?” 

“LeStrange. Lena LeStrange.” 

Donald quirked a brow, but didn’t question it. “And your parents?” 

“I live with my aunt.” A flash of sourness passed through the girl’s expression, but Donald didn’t comment on it. 

Okay. A runaway with family issues perhaps? 

“Right, and can you call your aunt to tell her that you’re fine?”

“She doesn’t have a phone. She wouldn’t even know how to work with one.” Lena answered rather sharply. “We live in an apartment, and we travel a lot.” 

Donald doubts that, considering he saw her rummaging through trash, but frankly he’s too tired to deal with whatever else this girl has up her sleeves so he lets her excuses convince him for now. 

Donald pinches the bridge of his nose. “Alright, Lena, here’s the deal – it’s late at night, I’m tired, and I have a busy day tomorrow. And since I don’t want to send you out in this weather—” 

A clap of thunder served to remind them that, yes, it is still raining heavily outside, and it is not calming down any time soon. 

“You’re staying here for the night, but first thing in the morning, you’re gonna go back to your aunt. She must be worried sick for you right about now.” 

Lena seemed to scoff, but quickly held herself back. This did not escape Donald’s observation. “Uh, yeah. That sounds real good right now, Sailor.” 

“Donald. My name is Donald Duck.” 

Lena blinks at him. “Duck, huh...? By any chance, are you related to Scrooge—” 

“No,” Donald interrupts her with a pointed look. “No relation.” 

“Okay...” Lena shuffles awkwardly. “So, where do I sleep?” 

“Ever slept in a hammock, Lena?” 

Lena’s lips curled upwards just a tiny bit. “I’ve slept on worse.” 

Chapter Text

Donald didn’t think he’d ever see the girl, Lena her name was, again. As per his instructions, the young duck had left the houseboat early, taking her belongings with her. It wasn’t that he hoped to never see her again, rather he found it worrying if Donald found her scouring through trash again, especially if she’s supposedly living with her aunt.

That was two days ago.

With that said, Donald did see her again, but at least it wasn’t scouring through trash. So hey, at least that was an improvement. 

Picture this – Donald woke up this morning with a headache to rival all headaches, a likely result of working three part time jobs a day (it’s really not so bad, aside from that one time he accidentally wore the wrong set of work clothes because he was in a hurry), and when he went to make his morning coffee (black and a crap ton of sugar), he found that he. Was. Out.

He, Donald Duck, was out of coffee. Of course. God fucking damn it (had he said that in the same space as that man, his mouth would’ve been slapped silly for that curse).

Donald had sighed, grumbling all kinds of curses he’s picked up in his life as he made his way to the nearest café (because Donald Fauntleroy Duck will not start the day without coffee, gosh darn it). Said café was his usual place to go to whenever he finds himself in situations like these or he was just too much in a hurry to make a cup for himself. Donald had frequented there so much that the cashier knows him by name and typically has his order readied by the time he makes it to the counter. The cashier was a nice kid, a bit on the new side if his optimistic attitude were anything to go by (he reminds Donald of an old friend’s son; he always leaves a bit of tip for the kid).

So there he was, sitting by the window side and texting his new boss that he might be late for a little while as he sips in his coffee until he noticed a peculiar (familiar, very familiar) figure outside the café doors. 

It was the girl from two days ago, and she is currently staring at him. Rather intently, he might add. 

The two of them continued this bout of staring for a good long while, neither of them seeming to do anything about it. Donald admits that it was starting to get uncomfortable and finally gestured for Lena to come inside, which the girl took with a small spring in her step (unexpected, but okay) and sat to the chair parallel to his. 

Lena spoke first. “Hi,” she greeted, a poor excuse of a polite smile etched equally as poorly on her face. Really, she just came off as mocking. 

Donald quirks a brow, and takes a sip from his cup. “Hey,” he greets back. 

Again, they stared at each other (gosh, what was with this kid and staring? what was with him and staring?) for a good long while. An irritatingly familiar voice echoed inside Donald’s head.

Pause, look, and analyze the situation. Find the problem, then create a solution. A lot can be gleamed from very little; one just has to know what and where to look for.

“So what’ve you been up to, kid?” Donald asked coolly.

“Oh you know. Same old, same old.”

Donald thought about asking what “same old” meant, but decided that was not the right question he wants to ask. Raising three boys with a penchant for mischief taught him a lot of things. One of those was asking for a straight answer when they clearly don’t want you to know never worked (well, a bit of bribery almost always fixes that). 

Analyze the situation. Find the problem, and create a solution.

"How’s your aunt?” 

Lena’s eye twitched just slightly, lips pursing in a hint of contempt before settling back to her laid-back look. “Oh. Yeah, she’s fine,” she answered sharply, and that was final.

Oh-kay. Found a problem, not what he wanted or even thought about wanting, but he found one at least. Now to come up a solution. Or at least, a band-aid fix for now because he doesn’t have time for this.

Donald hums. “So, Lena—” he tosses the name around in his head; memorizes it, rolls it in his tongue. “How’s your day?”

“Great. It’s going great now that I found you,” Lena answers quickly. Donald blinked in surprise, and the girl gapes as she realized what she just said. “I mean—I didn’t mean it like that! What I meant was—uh.” Lena looks down, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I’ll just go.” She stood up from her chair and goes to leave. 

(crap. quick, salvage the situation)

“ What’s the rush, kid? Truth be told, I’ve been looking for you.” That got Lena’s attention as she paused mid-step and looks back at him.

“R... really?” 

No. No, not really, but Donald suddenly found himself without the heart to deny it as Lena gave him that almost hopeful look that it hurt to even think about taking back what he said (gosh, he really is such a pushover sometimes). So, Donald did what he does best: he rolls with it. 

“Sure did, kid. You left in quite the hurry.” 

“I thought you wanted me gone as quick as possible,” Lena argues.

Right. He did say that, didn’t he? 

“And your clothes were soaking wet the last time I saw them.” And now that he mentioned it, a quick whiff in the air revealed the pungent smell coming off the girl. Donald’s face wrinkled in mild disgust. “Did you... Have you washed your clothes?” 

Lena blushes with shame. “N-no...” she says, tapping her feet onto the floor. 

(hook, line, and sinker)  

“ Well, that won’t do at all.” Donald stood up and gestured for Lena to follow him, smiling softly. “Come on then. The houseboat’s just near here.” Of course, he was just stretching for excuses, but it seemed he wasn’t the only one as Lena bounded after him. 

If this is what he thinks (gosh, he hopes he is wrong) this is, he’s gonna need more time with her. And he needed someone to keep watch of his boys anyway, so it’s a win-win in his eyes. 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-  

As of right now, Lena wanted to both congratulate and kick herself. 

Let’s take it back to the beginning. Today started out like any normal day – Lena wakes up, stretches her sore and aching body (a result of sleeping on that stupid rock she called a mattress), eats stale-as-fuck cereal that she bought a month ago with stolen money that she got fair and square from the Beagle boys, and then she hung out in the amphitheater like she always does whenever Aunt Magica doesn’t send her out to go find a way inside Scrooge’s mansion.

Maybe that would’ve been it for Lena’s day. It could have been that normal. Now there’s the keyword –  it could’ve.

But noooooooo. Instead, she finds herself pacing around the amphitheater, chewing her nails as her thoughts wander back and forth to the strange houseboat and the equally strange ducks that lived in it. 

As per Sailor’s instructions, she had left the houseboat at the ass-crack of dawn, but not before borrowing some sandwiches from their tiny fridge (did she feel bad about it? Nah, not really, those were the best thing she had ever put in her mouth, and they can always make more sandwiches). That was two days ago. 

And it was all she could think about. 

Two days. She spent two fucking days thinking about the time she spent on that “houseboat” (the word still inspires bewilderment from her), tossing and turning in her bed unable to sleep as she thought about delicious sandwiches, warm soapy baths, and an actually cozy nap.

So, if she ever woke up crankier and snappier than usual, well, it wasn’t her fault at all. Not that anyone was around to witness it anyway.

So, Lena did what she thought was the best thing to do in this kind of situation. She went looking for the houseboat.

It wasn’t that hard, really. She doesn’t like to brag (that’s a lie, but she’s just awesome like that), but she does have a pretty good memory, and besides, there’s really only one place for it to be in – the Duckburg pier. 

On her way, Lena made a list of things to say once she knocks on the door of the duck with the weird voice (sup, guess who’s back, hey there, I live bi—)

Lena shook her head. Maybe not that last one.

Lena had it all planned out. She was going to be smooth and cool. Smooth as silk and cool as the icy blizzards of Antarctica. See? She’s already quite verbose (she has no idea what that means, but it sounds like a compliment). She’s got this.

If her strides through the streets of Duckburg were a bit jittery, no one made a comment about it.

All of that, however, went all out the window when Lena saw Sailor by a café. Their eyes met, and she felt her throat dry up as she stood frozen outside the café doors (oh god she can't do this oh god oh god oh god). Finally, Sailor motioned for her to come in, and she really needs to get a better handle on herself because she almost skipped (fucking skipped! Her! What the fuck was wrong with her).

The resulting interaction was pretty awkward, as both of them just stared at each other until Lena decided to speak first.

“Hi,” she said, and now she just threw out all of her cool lines into the trash and she wants to kick herself for it. 

Then, as if she didn’t already want to bury herself even deeper into the ground due to embarrassment, her mouth decided to betray her when the older duck asked her about her day. “Great. It’s going great now that I found you,” she had said.

Sailor blinked at her and she wants to die right now .

Thankfully, Lena wasn’t given any more chances to embarrass herself as Sailor had invited her to the houseboat (no stop, what are you doing stupid feet). Soon, the two of them reached the older duck's home, and Lena almost let out a breath of awe at the sight of the thing that had wormed its way into her dreams. 

Sailor opens the door (he should probably get a lock for that) and goes inside with Lena following suite. To anyone, it was just going inside a small and cramped space that was called a home. To Lena, it was like entering a new frontier, the small space feeling bigger and wider than they truly are. Everything was just so new and saturated with colour and permeates an air of homeliness that she felt her knees almost buckle at the sheer... everything of it all.

Lena breathes it all in; the wooden floor, the seawater, the smell of burning fish—burning?! 

“Dude! I told you to keep watch while I was in the bathroom!”

“What are you talking about?! It’s fine!”

“It’s burning, Hubert! Burning! You just ruined a perfectly good salmon!”

Sailor sighs in exasperation. “Boys!” he calls out, and two out of the three creepy duck kids came in response. 

“Uncle Donald? You’re, uh, back early,” the red one said (this one was Nerd, she thinks). “Did something happen?” 

“Something like that,” Sailor answers before tilting his head. “Where’s Louie?”

“Asleep,” the two ducks answered simultaneously (nope, still creepy).

Donald nods before gesturing for Lena to step forward. “Boys, this is Lena. You remember her, right?”

The two duck boys shifted their attention to Lena, squinting their eyes in inspection. Nerd gave her a look of recognition, his mouth forming into an ‘O’ shape, while the blue one (this one was  Tryhard, if she remembers correctly) simply looked at her in confusion.

“Who?” Tryhard was rewarded with an elbow to the stomach by Nerd. 

“You know, the girl from two days ago.” 

“Oh, her!” 

“Boys,” Sailor interrupts them. “She’ll be staying here for a bit because of...” the older duck’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Reasons. So, I want you to be nice and make her feel at home for now.” 

“Uh, sure thing, Uncle Donald,” Nerd says, scratching the back of his head. “Didn’t you have the morning shift?” 

Sailor’s jaw drops and his eyes shrank to pinpricks, and one can even almost hear the gears in his head grind to a screeching halt. 

“Wellthatsaboutitfornowseeyouboyslaterplaynicewithherokaybye !” And with that, the older duck had sped out the houseboat in speeds she never knew was possible to him. 

Lena then shifts her focus to the two ducks before her, and the three of them entered a short bout of staring awkwardly at each other. “So...” she trails off. 

“So,” Nerd echoed back, not really adding anything else.

It was then at that moment that the third duck boy made his presence known with a loud yawn.

“Hey guys, what’s with all the noise?” the green one (Lazy, definitely Lazy)  asks before his gaze turned to Lena. Lazy gasps and points a finger at her. “You! You’re the garbage girl who stole my sandwich!” 

Lena can feel the familiar aching of that headache she felt two days ago come back to haunt her and doesn’t know if she liked it or not. 

Chapter Text

The ice cream in her hands is in an awful shade of pink.

Today was a Sunday. To Lena, it was just another day. To the Duck family, however, it is Ice Cream Sunday, and Lena was unfortunate enough to be dragged along with the triplets.

Lena stares at the frozen treat in her hand long and hard, scrutinizing it for every bit that drips from it. It was topped with an annoyingly varied colours of sprinkles, further accentuating its stupid girly look.

“This is strawberry,” Lena points out as she looked up from her cone to Nerd, who held a cone of plain vanilla ice cream (fucking plain vanilla, how boring can you get).

Nerd shuffles uncomfortably under her bemused gaze. “Do you... You don’t want it?”

Lena looks back at her cone and takes a tentative lick. It was sickeningly sweet and too... fruity.

She fucking loves it. 

Lena huffs. “Next time, I want chocolate.” 

The next time they did get ice cream, Lena ordered the exact same flavour. Nerd had of course noticed this, but Lena was sure he has too much self-preservation on him to comment on it.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

“Have you ever picked a lock before?” 

Lena blinks at the sudden question, and she met Tryhard’s gaze with confusion. “Uh...” she peeks over her shoulder, making sure that Sailor wasn’t listening nearby (he doesn’t like her teaching the boys these kind of things). “Yeah. Yeah, I have.”

It was a crucial thing to learn when you’re always moving around everywhere.

Tryhard looked like he was given an early Christmas gift (not that Lena would know how that felt) with how his eyes seemed to sparkle and his body shaking with joy. “Can you teach me?”

Lena shivers. It wasn't because a draft of air passed by them (there wasn't even any open windows near them right now), but rather because she somehow felt like Sailor’s warning glare on her shoulders even though she was sure the older duck wasn’t anywhere nearby. 

Then again, she had been mistaken before. Sailor could move silently throughout the Houseboat if he wanted to, as she had learned when she tried to sneak off some snacks from the fridge. 

Still, Lena was feeling lucky today. “Sure. You got a lock around here?” 

The following day, Sailor had given her the stink eye every time he sees her, promising consequences in her future. 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Funso’s Fun Zone wasn't as bad as Lena thought it was. Really, she should've given the place more credit. 

It was worse. 

Arcade machines blare out a cacophony of music and sound effects, far too loud and chaotic for Lena to make sense of which is doing which. Children run around wildly, a group of them even nearly knocking her out as they zoomed pass her with gusto. 

“Remind me again why I'm here?” Lena asked as she was led by Lazy through the chaos of the playhouse.  

Lazy spared a glance at her before rolling his eyes. “Because Uncle Donald can’t leave us alone to have fun so he has you watching us,” he replies before his voice lowered to a murmur, “I don’t even know why he trusts you.”

As the two of them make their way through, it was here that Lena saw Lazy in action. 

“Josie! Oh my god, is that you?! That new haircut is absolutely stunning, girl!”

“Manny, my dude! S'been forever since I last saw you! That girlfriend of yours burned through your wallet yet?” 

“Sunny D! Looking good today, as usual!”

Lena watches as Lazy smooths his way through the staff member, all the while said staff members hand him small pockets of indiscernible stuff (but from the way they sound when it jostles, it’s probably something plastic). Soon, the two of them were seated at a table. 

“You do this often?” Lena asks, leaning back into her chair. 

“I know everyone here, and they know me,” Lazy replies before turning to a waitress next to him. “Jane, how are ya? Is that hair dye? Nice, compliments your eyes really well.” 

The waitress giggled. “The usual, Mr. Duck?” 

“Of course, my dear.” The waitress then hands him a cup. Which Lazy then proceeds to fill it with juice from the nearby dispenser. Lazy takes a long sip from his cup.

Lena balked at Lazy. She couldn't help it. She knew Lazy was a troublemaker (a trait that he shares with his brothers, the only difference being how much each of them are willing to commit), but basically stealing was not something she expects. Not from someone who was raised as mundane as Sailor, at least.

Lazy notices her stare and stops sipping. He offered her the cup. “Want some?”

Lena looks down at the cup before glaring at Lazy. “I don’t accept handouts,” she huffs.

Lazy retracts his hand, his lazy smile dimming into a thoughtful frown and regarded her with a similarly thoughtful look. The smile came back instantly, this time giving off a cheeky tone, and he offers her the cup yet again. “Handouts? Louie Duck doesn't do handouts, this is bribery to keep my one and only witness quiet."

Lena huffs out a laugh. “You’re bribing me?” 

“Yep,” Lazy replies, popping the ‘p’.

“I’ll take it, but I get seventy percent of the share next time,” 

Lazy frowns at her, eyes narrowing. “Forty percent.” 

“Hm...” Lena hums in mock thought. “No deal. Sixty.”

“Fifty, I won’t go any higher.”

“Sixty, and I won’t tell Tryhard who’s been nicking a dollar from his allowance to buy some chocolate bars.” 

Lazy gaped at her. “Wha—How did you—Not even Uncle Donald knows that!” 

Lena smirks triumphantly at him. “Do we have a deal?” 

Lazy glares at her intensely for a few seconds before sighing in defeat. “Fine.”

“Pleasure doing business with you.”

Chapter Text

Lena was tired. 

This was nothing new, of course. Lena had been tired multiple times in her life. She’s felt the aching protests of her limbs, the insistent pounding of a headache, and the lethargy spreading throughout her entire body. 

The houseboat rocks almost gently, kind of like a mother would with her child. Or at least, that’s what Lena thinks it’s like. She personally wouldn’t know. For a mere second, the image of aunt Magica cradling her in her arms came to mind... Lena shivered. 

(nope nope nope nope away cursed image shoo shoo)  

No, perhaps tired wasn’t right. If she was tired, she’d have fallen asleep already. Restless might be the more appropriate term. Yeah, that sounds about right. Lena is feeling restless. 

That feeling is always the worst because there isn’t a lot she can do about it. 

There weren’t many nights like this. Often times, Lena can sleep just fine (even if the bed she sleeps on was more akin to a pile of rocks) and she would wake up in the morning feeling somewhat refreshed. But there were nights where Lena, no matter how tired she was, couldn’t sleep. Those nights are what she often associated with bad omens – a premonition of a terrible day (though that might be the sleep deprivation talking). 

Lena shifts herself so that her back is facing the ceiling. She groaned quietly in frustration. “Come on, come on... Just go to sleep,” she told herself, squeezing her eyes shut. 

Nope, nothing at all. 

Lena slips out of the hammock with a grumble and heads to the kitchen. She heard from Sailor that milk can help someone sleep better. 

Two glasses of cold milk and an hour of waiting later, Lena was still unable to fall asleep. Typical (Sailor was a liar). So here she was, gormlessly staring at a ticking clock and counting down the seconds until she reaches ten and resets her counting. This went on for a quite a bit. 

However, she wouldn’t be alone in her sleeping problems for long. 

Footsteps, slow and quiet, reached Lena’s ears and she turned to face whoever was making the noise. Stepping into the kitchen light was Sailor, looking equally as tired as she is (actually, that’s a lie; he looks like death rubbed its ass all over his face). 

“Lena? What’re you doing up?” Sailor asked, rubbing his eyes and taking a seat in front of her. 

“I could ask the same to you,” Lena shot back, though it lacked her usual retort. 

“Can’t sleep. Happens sometimes.” Donald shrugged with a tired sigh. 

“Yeah?” Lena finds it hard to believe that someone like Sailor, who looks like he could fall dead on his face at a moment’s notice, could ever have sleeping problems. 

“Insomnia does that to ya.” 

Lena blinks in confusion. “Insowhat?” 

“Insomnia, a sleep disorder. Been diagnosed with it a few years back by my doctor.” 

“That... sounds pretty bad.” Lena would later find herself shocked at the amount of genuine concern her voice had at that moment. 

“Eh.” Donald shrugs nonchalantly. “You learn to live with it, and coffee always fixes it.” 

Considering how Sailor looks half dead most of the times, Lena wonders if that was really the case. 

“So, how’s your day been with the boys?” Sailor suddenly asked, twiddling his thumbs. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much; I’ve been a lot busier with work recently, and I even have to go on weekends.” 

“Yeah, uh, I was actually really busy this week too,” Lena replied, rubbing her shoulder. “My aunt wanted me to run an errand for her, and I couldn’t exactly say no.”  

Aunt Magica had been a little pissy that Lena wasn’t devoting ninety percent of her time trying to find a way inside Scrooge’s nearly impenetrable mansion (because yeah, a teenager like her can get through all the security the old duck had put up, and those are the only ones she currently knows exist). Lucky for her, aunt Magica didn’t seem aware of what Lena had been doing for the past month. 

Sailor had a rather strange look on his face when she mentioned aunt Magica, but she opted not to mention it. 

“And how’s your aunt doing?” Sailor asked with narrowed eyes that, despite the bags under them, still feel rather scrutinizing. 

“Oh, she’s fine. Same as usual.” Lena gulped nervously, trying to avoid meeting Sailor’s stare. She needs an excuse, she really doesn’t wanna talk about this. Not with Sailor of all people! “Uh, that milk trick you said didn’t work!” she points a finger at Sailor accusingly, slamming her other hand down on the table. 

Sailor blinked at the exclamation, and maybe it was the sleep deprivation or an attempt to humor her, but he took the bait and seemed to forget about the subject about her aunt entirely with a snort of indignation. “Did you drink from the carton again?” 

“No!” Lena’s face flushed as the memory resurfaced (how was she supposed to know that she can’t drink straight from the carton itself). “D-Don’t turn this on me, I’m-I’m the one accusing you here!” 

Sailor raised a brow, implying that he doubted her (rude), before surveying the kitchen. When his head stopped turning, Lena followed his gaze to the kitchen counter where a single glass laid undisturbed. It was the glass that she had used. 

“See?! I didn’t drink from the carton this time!” 

“Alright, alright. Just keep it down, you’ll wake up the boys.”

Chapter Text

Lena does not have an obsession. She really doesn’t, and anyone who accuses her of otherwise is a liar. 

Perhaps some context is necessary. 

The day started out like any other (though the definition of “any other” has had a significant change as of recently), with Lena waking up refreshed and without a single peep about back pains! Fancy that! 

Anyway, after waking up, she did the standard Houseboat morning routine. That is to say, she marched herself towards the kitchen table, hears the telltale signs of Sailor finally waking up (that is to say, he falls out of the couch, scream like he got ran over, and then start quacking up a storm which will inevitably wake the three other ducks that live here), and wait for the three other ducks to lethargically make their way into the kitchen and for Sailor to cook breakfast. 

Today's breakfast was pancakes, and Lena never had pancakes before so it was definitely an experience for her to say the least. 

Once all that was over, the Creepy Trio (she came up with it all by herself, isn’t she clever) seemed to disappear without her notice. According to Sailor, who was halfway into dressing himself, the boys had “school”.  

Whatever that meant. 

And since Sailor was going to be away at work, that meant Lena had the Houseboat... all... to herself... 

Huh... 

Lena... didn’t know how to feel about that. 

So, the day passed like a blur, or at least Lena thought it did. She seemed to have lost all sense of awareness around the midday when she got bored of pacing around the Houseboat. When she came to, the whole place seemed to have gotten cleaner somehow. Like, the floorboards looked freshly swept and mopped, the discarded pile of clothes were all neatly tucked away in a basket, the dishes were done, and everything was just... cleaner. 

God, did she seriously clean the entire place without even noticing it? Is she... is she becoming domestic? 

Lena then sat down on a chair by the kitchen table to contemplate, and as those thoughts continued to haunt her, she barely registered the Creepy Trio entering the Houseboat and staring at her like she grew a second head. 

However, it was when Sailor arrived home that Lena started telling herself that she does not have a problem. 

Sailor had arrived rather early today, though still looking as dead as ever, and took one look around the Houseboat before turning to Lena. “Did you clean the house while we were gone?” he asked. 

“Uh...” Lena sheepishly rubbed the back of her head. “I guess I did,” she answered. 

Sailor walked up to her (and she will forever deny that she panicked a little inside) before patting her head. “Good work,” he had said almost offhandedly before trudging away, likely to crash into the couch and take a nap. 

Lena could not keep her jaw from dropping as she felt for the spot where Sailor had patted her. What was that? Why did he do it? Why did it make her feel all funny and warm and how can she get Sailor to do that again? 

Thus began Lena’s obsessi—research on how she could get Sailor to pat her in the head again. 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

“You’re staring again.”

Lena snaps out of her sudden reverie, courtesy of Lazy who sat on the opposite side of the kitchen table. “What?” she asked rather dumbly, and if she were more aware, she would’ve slapped herself silly for that. 

“You were staring at Uncle Donald again. For like, three whole minutes,” Lazy points out, a small smirk threatening to spread through his lips, though he tries (and fails) to hide it. 

Lena chokes and nearly topples over her chair. “Wha—I was not!” she defended, glaring at Lazy with the sourest of glares she could muster through her quickly reddening cheeks. 

Lazy simply types in his phone, not even looking up from it. “Alright, garbage girl. I’ll believe ya,” he says, not even trying to hide his smug smirk. 

Lena growls at him. “I told you it’s Lena.” 

“And I told you my name is Louie, not Lazy, so I guess we’ll both be disappointed.” Lazy shrugs, unfazed. 

Lena shoots up from her chair, hands slamming down on the table as she leaned forward to lunge at the duck across her. Lazy immediately jerked back in response, mouth open and primed to scream out his uncle's name in defense. 

Sailor was quick to interfere before things got too... violent. “Kids, no fighting at the table,” he tells them with a pointed look. 

“Wouldn’t think of it, Uncle Donald,” Lazy replied, glancing at Lena almost daringly. 

Lena growled lowly as she settles back into her seat. Next time, she mouthed to Lazy who gulped nervously in response. 

Lena, however, did not get the chance, as Lazy was quick to surround himself with his brothers. While she was sure that the other two won’t really pose a threat to her, she’d rather avoid any... collateral damage, lest she incur Sailor’s wrath. 

So, rather than serving up a nice and painful knuckle sandwich to one green color-coded duck, Lena decided to calm herself down with a glass of cold lemonade from the fridge. 

“Haaaahhh,” Lena lets out a breathy sigh, shortly followed by a loud belch. She giggles almost woozily to herself, the taste of lemonade lingering in her mouth. She walked out of the kitchen, entering the living room where she found a sleeping Sailor haphazardly splayed across the sofa. 

Lena’s gaze wanders to Sailor’s hands in an almost entranced manner. She bit her lip hard, a fiery debate raging within her head. Soon, her more impulsive side won out and Lena looked around to see if anyone was around. Once she was sure that there was nobody around, she tip-toed towards Sailor before sitting down cross-legged beside him. 

‘This is a really bad idea,’ the more rational side of Lena tells her. 

‘Just this once and that’s it,’ argued the not-so rational side of her, which is becoming the more dominant side in this relationship as of late. 

Admittedly, this was all very stupid and Lena will likely prefer to keep this memory buried deep within the recesses of her mind, lest she burst into flames from sheer embarrassment alone. But she’s made up her mind and there’s no turning back (well, she could but that’s not really something that’s entered her mind right at the moment).  

Slowly, hesitantly, Lena reached out to Sailor’s hands and clasped her hand with his. The touch alone sent shivers down her spine and her face to heat up significantly. She gave Sailor’s hand a squeeze, immediately stopping when he let out a soft murmur. 

(ba-bump ba-bump ba-bump goes her heart, as loud as a roaring thunder)  

Then, she moved onto the second part of her plan. She carefully maneuvered Sailor’s hand, opening it and placing it gently on top of her head like a sort of delicate crown. Lena fought off a sigh of contentment that bubbled deep down her throat as she wiggled her head, feeling Sailor’s fingers brush and ruffle her hair. 

Sailor snorted, which nearly sent Lena into catatonic shock, and she waited with bated breath for the inevitable punishment; Sailor would wake up and yell at her and she doesn’t know how to feel about that and she feels so sick she’s gonna vom-- 

"Lena?" came Sailor’s voice, cutting through her thoughts like a knife. 

Lena shrieked and tried to stand up before her legs got tangled up with each other and she just ended up tripping and stumbling down. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!” she screamed, stumbling away and shielding her face with her hands and her eyes squeezed shut. 

She waits for it, knows it’s gonna come, but it always hurts no matter how much she readies for it and she doesn’t know how to deal with that please no no no no no--  

“ Lena!” Hands clasped over Lena’s shoulder, and she shrieked louder in response. “Lena, look at me!” 

Look at me Look at me Look at me Look at me when I’m talking to you, Lena  

Lena couldn’t breath—nononononono not again she’s real she’s real she’s real she’s real--  

“Uncle Donald?! What’s happening?!” 

“Huey, Dewey, help me get her up! Louie, get a glass of water!” 

More hands grabbed at her (no stop stop stop) and Lena started kicking in response alongside screaming her lungs out to stop them from taking her back she doesn’t wanna go back!  

“ Owwww! She jusht kicked me in the nowsh!” 

“Louie, get some ice too!” 

No no no no stop stop stop! She’s been good, she swears she has been!  

“Ow--! Louie, get over here and help!” 

Then, cold water splashes her face, some of them even landing in her mouth. Lena gasped and coughed roughly. The sudden intrusion of it was enough to remind Lena that she was—she was—! 

“You didn’t have to throw the water at her face, dude!” 

“She was panicking! And I was panicking! What was I supposed to do?!” 

“Boys, give her some space!” 

Lena opened her eyes, blinking rapidly for a bit as her eyes felt watery, and she reached for the first thing she could get her hands on – Sailor's uniform. She gripped on it tightly because it was real and she’s real and she can feel it because only real people can feel things—  

“What do we do, Uncle Donald?” 

“Do we call an ambulance? Do we even have their number?” 

Noise? Yes, noises are real. That means she’s real because only real people can hear noises.  

"Boys, go to your room. I’ll take care of this.” 

Lena feels herself lifted off the floor (where’s the floor where’s the floor why can’t she feel the floor where are her legs are her legs still there is she real is she real is she real) and she clings tighter to remind herself that she’s real she’s real she’s real... 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

It took the entire walk to his room with a hysterical teenager clinging to his uniform for his heart to finally stop beating several times per second. Although, finally entering his room didn’t really help things at all. He tries to set Lena down on his hammock, but all it did was cause the teen to cling on tighter with her breathing quickening as well. 

That’s definitely not a good sign... 

“Lena, You’re gonna have to let go,” Donald tells her. Lena didn’t give any indication she heard him however and continued murmuring quietly to herself. “Okay...” Donald sighs. Looks like he has no other choice – he’ll just have to hoist himself onto the hammock with Lena in his arms. 

Not particularly hard, he’s done this before with the boys when one of them would have a nightmare and seek him out (which is then followed by the other two because of course), but what made it especially difficult was that Lena is not exactly the size of a kid. 

“Oof, there we go.” Finally managing to climb into the hammock with Lena in his arms, Donald notes that the teen’s surprisingly lighter than he expected (something to think about later). 

The two of them stayed like this for a while, with Donald gently rocking the hammock back and forth while Lena quivers like a leaf in his arms. Over the course of minutes, Lena eventually settled down; her breathing evening out and her grip on his uniform finally loosening. 

“Alright, Lena. I’m gonna go and check on the boys for a bit, okay?” he tells Lena as he shifts to move her off him. 

“No!” Lena yelled, tightening her grip on him again and burying her head into his chest. “Don’t leave don’t leave don’t leave don’t leave—!” 

“Okay!” Donald quickly settled back down on the hammock. “Okay. Okay. I’ll stay, just calm down, Lena. Nothing’s gonna hurt’cha.” 

The two of them stayed like this again, this time Lena didn’t seem keen on letting go at all. At least, until she finally fell asleep from exhaustion (he can't blame her, he was also feeling rather taxed after what happened). Donald continued to hold onto her just so she wouldn’t wake up and panic again, deciding that he’ll have to check on the boys later. For now, he has to deal with— 

Donald’s face scrunched up in suspicion as he felt something against his chest. Something solid... 

Carefully shifting Lena so that she’s facing the ceiling, Donald maneuvers his hand just right inside the teen’s shirt and felt around for the protruding object. Then, finally getting a good grasp on it, he slowly pulls it out so as to not wake her and what he found nearly made him choke. 

It was a purple talisman—a Sumerian talisman, one that he immediately recognized. 

Fear gripped Donald as he stared at the object in his hands, old memories of his past life and a certain malicious sorceress coming to him in waves. He looks down on the sleeping teen in his arms, expecting something to happen. 

(he remembers the power of Her magic, the eclipsed moon that spelled disaster for the world, and the shadows that came to life with malicious intent as they surround him in droves)  

When nothing happened, Donald let out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding before letting go of the talisman, letting it hang on Lena’s neck unhidden. He’ll have to keep a closer eye on Lena from now on.

Chapter Text

Lena doesn’t remember what happened three days ago. It was all very blurry and the only reason she ever knew about it was because Sailor told her she had been out like a light for one of those days. What she does know is that there is a distinct change in the Houseboat—namely, whenever she’s around. 

“You got any more sandwiches?” Lena asked Nerd, who was mopping up the floorboards. 

Nerd paused his work. “Uh, technically they’re Louie’s sandwiches? He’s the one who makes them and usually wraps them up in green plastic so nobody else—” Lena gave him the look that said that wasn’t the answer she wanted, to which Nerd immediately interrupted himself by clearing his throat. “I mean, sure, Louie probably won’t mind.” 

Of course, they both know that’s not true. Lazy has been very vocal about Lena taking his sandwiches. 

“I’ll go get them for you!” Before Lena could tell Nerd that, no she can get them herself thank you very much, the red-clad duck had already raced to the kitchen, leaving his mop to plop on the floor. 

Lena huffed indignantly, but opted to just wait for Nerd to come back with the sandwiches before telling him off. “I could go get them myself…” she murmured. 

When Nerd came back, he had two green plastic-wrapped sandwiches in hand. He handed both of them to her. “So, you want some water with that? I could go get a glass for you if you need some. I'm gonna go get some for you—!” Before Nerd could run off again, Lena had already gripped his arm. 

“I. Can. Get them. Myself,” she growled lowly with a glare. 

“Of course, what was I thinking?” Nerd laughed nervously, quickly glancing back and forth between his arm and Lena. 

When Lena was sure that they were on the same page, she let go of his arm. “Sorry,” she murmured before unwrapping the sandwiches and took a bite out of one. 

Nerd slowly backed off while keeping a nervous eye on her before picking the mop off the floor and going back to his work, much more wary of her presence now. 

Lena left Nerd alone after that. She kinda felt bad about getting angry at him though (which is weird because she never feels bad about anything). 

“Hey, Lena, you got a minute?” Tryhard asked out of the blue. 

Lena blinked and leaned back as she suddenly found herself face to grinning face with the blue-clad duck. “Wha—uh, yeah. Sure.” It wasn’t like she had anything better to do, anyway. 

If possible, Tryhard’s grin would’ve widened past his face. “Good! That’s good! Come on then!” He grabbed at her sleeves and started dragging her along with him. 

“Hey! Let go!” 

Tryhard continued to drag her, despite Lena’s attempts of pulling herself free, until they reached the triplets’ room (which she dubbed as the Creep Cave, she is so clever), and once inside, Tryhard let go of Lena’s sleeve to close and lock the door. He then ran towards the bed and pulled out a small blue table from underneath before sitting down cross-legged on the side of the table opposite to her. He gave Lena a rather serious look on his face, which she found rather hilarious because it  really  doesn’t fit his vibe at all. 

“So, were you followed?” 

Lena’s jaw couldn’t have dropped any lower at the utter absurdity of Tryhard’s setup and the suddenness of his question. “Uh-bwuh-HUH?! You—!” She couldn’t form her words properly because what. 

“I understand the journey here was difficult, but I’m glad you managed to get through it all,” Tryhard continued, ignoring her stupefied expression. 

“Wha—wait just a minute!” Lena kneeled on the opposite side of the small table Tryhard had set up and slammed her hands down in protest. “If this is some stupid joke, then I got news for you, buddy!” She roughly grabbed the blue-clad duck by the neck of his shirt. 

Tryhard was quick to put his hands up in front of his face in defense. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry! I’ll get to the point, please don’t punch me in the face!” 

“Then get to it,” Lena growled, glaring at Tryhard.

Tryhard cleared his throat. “Okay, so I got this really cool idea in my head for a while now, and I needed someone to bounce some ideas with and you just so happened to be free so here we are now.” 

Lena’s eyes narrowed. “Still doesn’t explain why you decided to drag me all the way here. And why me? You got your brothers, don’t you?” 

“Ahaha no.” Tryhard stood up abruptly. “This is a Dewey thing, and a Dewey thing only. My brothers aren’t invited.” He jumped up on the bed and started rummaging around one of the pillows. When it seemed like he was done, he jumped down and laid a bunch of papers down on the small table. 

Lena looked down, squinting at the mess of papers before her. “These are...?” 

“I call it the Dewey Dew-Night show!” Tryhard spread his arms out with all the enthusiasm that Lena never thought possible (then again, that’s not saying much coming from her). Before she could reply, the blue-clad duck started gesturing with his hands rather dramatically as he continued, “An internet show all about me! The music? Me! Props? Me! Amazing content for the world to see and cheer for? Aaaall me!” 

Lena had leaned back during Tryhard’s proclamation and is blinking incredulously as he finished. “The Dew-what?” 

Tryhard drew back with knitted brows before breathing in deep, most likely about to repeat himself. “The Dew—!” 

Lena was quick to silence him by clamping down his beak shut. “I know what it’s called. What I wanna know is why me? You didn’t actually tell me that.” 

Tryhard met her gaze with his own. “Mmmphmphhmmm—” 

Lena quickly let go of his beak while giving him an unamused stare. “Yeah, with words, motormouth,” she said as she wiped her hand on her shirt in case of spit. 

Tryhard’s face seemed to twitch nervously a bit. “Weeeell, I just thought that I needed some outside help. You know, a second opinion.” 

Lena raised a brow, clearly not convinced. 

“Agh.” Tryhard threw his hands up in frustration and started pacing around the room. “This is harder than I thought it’d be!” 

“What are you talking about?!” 

“I dunno!” Tryhard shouted with equal levels of frustration, ruffling up his hair. “Things just aren’t right and everyone’s all weird and stuff and I hate it!” His pacing turned into angry stomps. 

Lena couldn’t help but lean back again as Tryhard continued to pace angrily. Seeing him angry was just too... surreal, she supposes? He’s always the most hyper and happy of the Creepy Trio, and this sudden shift in attitude completely threw her off.  

Tryhard suddenly stopped his pacing and breathed in deeply, likely to calm himself down. He turned to look at her, his expression rather despondent that had Lena feeling all squirmy and twisty on the inside, before he went towards her.  “Sorry. I guess I didn’t really ask for your permission,” he said before offering her a piece of paper. “Just, uh, think about it, ‘kay?” 

Lena took it without a word, trying to keep a straight face. “Yeah, I, uh, I will.” She stood up. “I’ll just... go now.” She tried to keep her pace normal as she exited the door, mentally telling her beating heart to calm down. 

When she was finally out of the room, Lena looked at the piece of paper Tryhard had given her. It was rather poorly drawn drawing of the blue-clad duck behind what might be a table with the words Dewey Dew-Night written at the top in big capitalized letters. She contemplates about throwing it away. 

…

Lena folds the letter and decides to keep it anyway. It might... come in handy someday. Yeah, that’s definitely it. 

To be perfectly honest, Lena had been expecting Lazy to pop up as well. That’s really just how the Creepy Trio worked; one of them does something, then the other two generally follow behind. That’s what made up the bulk of their creepy factor in her perspective. So, when Lazy didn’t seem to show up, she will reluctantly admit that she was feeling kinda uneasy. 

“Hey there.” 

Until now, that is. Lazy suddenly came up to her, his smile kinda coming off as a bit lopsided than usual, with a large plastic cup in hand. 

Lena raised a brow in question. “Yeah? Whaddya want?” She’ll never admit it, of course, but she did felt kind of relieved to see him. 

Lazy, rather than give her one of his usual quips, immediately lost his smile (and yeah, she kinda panicked a little bit, don’t judge) before suddenly offering her the large cup. “Here. Take it.” 

Lena blinked in surprise. “Uh, why?” In spite of her question, however, she accepted the offered drink and took a sip from it. “This is... from Funso’s?” 

Lazy shrugs. “Yeah. Sixty-forty, remember? The largest size they have and I bought it with my own money, Dewey’s money not included.” 

Lena narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Alright, Lazy, what’s your angle?” Because she’ll be damned if she lets anyone get the last laugh on her. 

“What? Can’t I be a nice guy who buys stuff for his friends every once in a while out of the goodness of his own heart?” 

“No one’s that nice. Especially not you.” 

Lazy huffs indignantly. “Fine, you want me to charge for good will? Pay me half of what I paid for it and we can call it even.” He turns from Lena and started to walk away. 

Okay, Lena kinda felt bad about that (seriously, what is up with her today). She stopped Lazy by quickly grabbing onto his sleeve. “No, wait, I’m sor—uh, I didn’t mean what I said. Thanks for the drink. I, uhnnn, that’s real nice of you.” 

(damn it, girl, that was super not cool) 

Lazy turned to face her, genuine surprise breaking through his usual laid-back expression before his face suddenly flushed. 

On the inside, Lena firmly believes that was too cute of an expression to be on Lazy’s face and she could just die right now because that’s soooooo not fair. 

“Sure. Anytime,” Lazy said before blinking a bit and continued with, “I mean, not actually any time ‘cause I don't really wanna keep sneaking out on my own to go to Funso’s and I can’t always afford these so you know, don’t think of this as an every—” 

Lena held back the laughter that built up in her with a cough. “No no, I get it. I get what you mean.” 

“Aha, that’s great,” Lazy said before glancing down at the arm on his sleeve. “Can you let go now?” 

“Ah, uh... Right, sorry.” Lena let go of his arm. 

Lazy cleared his throat a bit. “So, uh, see you later, hope you’re feeling well and all that stuff, bye!” He hastily made his retreat, briskly walking away with both his hands stuffed inside his hoodie’s pockets. 

Lena’s gaze lingered for a bit on where Lazy had left before turning her sights back on the cup in her hands, lightly swirling it for a bit before taking another sip at it again. 

It was her favorite flavour... Damn it, Lazy. 

It was almost nighttime when Sailor finally came up to her. The Creepy Trio had all been put to bed, and Lena was about to slip into her hammock before Sailor had appeared at the door. 

“Lena, we need to talk. Come with me to kitchen.” And with those words, Sailor left as quick as he came. 

Lena, knowing better than to ignore him, did as told and made her way to the kitchen where Sailor had propped himself onto one of the chairs; tired and almost dead on his feet the older duck may still look, there’s a small but certain change in his expression that sent tingles down Lena’s spine. 

Not a very good thing, if her experiences had any say in the matter. 

“Take a seat,” Sailor tells her, gesturing to the chair opposite to him. 

Lena did just that, albeit rather cautiously. “Uh, what’s up?” 

Sailor lets out a breathy sigh, and she could feel her heart beating faster. “You never did tell me who your aunt is.” 

Lena felt a pit in her stomach. “I—That’s, uh...”  

(shit shit shit shit) 

Sailor leans forward, and she leaned back in response. “Lena, I need you tell me. Who is your aunt?”

"It's not important, really..." Lena offered weakly, scratching at her chest anxiously and feeling the medallion she hid beneath her clothes. 

“Is it...” Sailor paused for a moment, his expression shifting for a bit. “Magica de Spell?” 

Lena felt her stomach drop. “How... How do you know that name?” (no no no no no)  

“ Is it Magica de Spell?” Sailor asked much more forcefully this time, eyes narrowing at her. “Tell me.” 

“No, of—of course not. I—I don’t even know who that is,” Lena lies, though she knows deep down it’s not very convincing (she needs to leave right now). 

“Lena—!” 

Lena springs out of the chair, running as fast as she could towards and out the front door, not waiting for Sailor to catch her.

It was well over midnight when Lena finally managed to find her way back to the Amphitheatre, and it wasn’t until she reached her hideout that the full force of the exhaustion hits her completely. 

“Ha... Haha... hahahahaha...” she laughed as her knees buckled from the pain. “Hahahahahahnhnnhnn...” Tears fell down her face as the reality of her situation finally hits her.

Lena knew it couldn’t last forever, she knew she was gonna mess it up somehow, she knew! But goddamn it for once in her life, she let herself hope that she can finally be happy. Sure, she was still stuck with Aunt Magica’s mission of freeing herself from Scrooge’s dime, but life was better for her there! She didn’t mind Sailor constantly looking over her shoulder nor did she mind the Creepy Trio’s insistent attempts of including her in one of their harebrained shenanigans! She could accept all that as long as she didn’t have to sleep in stupid rocky mattresses, eating stale cereals and other stupid crap from the convenience store, and keep on living in the shadows anymore! She was finally happy for once! 

Lena curls up into herself and lays on the cold hard floor crying until exhaustion forced her to sleep.