Chapter Text
His body was shaking uncontrollably as the familiar feeling of loss took hold of him. Why did this have to happen again, why did death have to rear its ugly head and steal away someone from him once again. Was it a cruel joke on his part or was he bound to watch the ones he loved be buried? Donald didn't know, what he did know was he could not stop the heavy tears the streamed down his checks. He leaned against the large mansion that his boys called home and tried to stop the sobs building up in his throat. He even went as far as to squeeze his beak shut, but that did nothing. He couldn't control the grief that erupted out his body and he let out another wail of sadness.
"Why'd you have to take him?" He asked to the sky as if someone up there was listening to the duck's sorrows. "Haven't you taken enough people from them from me?" He asked as he wiped away the tears that still lingered on his face and wrapped his arms around himself as tightly as he could to simulate a hug before he turned away from the sky. He didn't have any more questions to ask out loud so he just stared down at his webbed feet and tried to take control of the dried sobs that built up in his thought.
He felt like he was ten years old all over again, standing to the side of his parents’ coffins holding his twin sister's hand with all the strength he could muster up at that time. He couldn’t bring himself to watch the wooden boxes be lowered into the ground as some sad song played on bagpipes filled the background. Donald could almost hear Della fight back her own tears, but those tears weren’t made of sadness or grief like his own, but of anger and rage.
He could easily remember how any found memory would she set her off and she’s start to yell and throw things. The fits started when they were given to Scrooge to live with. They would be setting up their room when her first rage attack would happen. He recalled the fuse to the anger bomb was lit when he pulled out a family photo of his parents and them at the beach just a year ago. That was when the first bomb of emotional rage went off and Donald was there to comfort her.
"How could they do this to us Donny," she would scream, that was followed with her kicking something on the ground or throwing something in their shared room. "why did they have to go and die on us!" Donald would hold his tongue and let her burn off this anger and when it was safe for him to approach, he’d wrap her in a carrying embrace and she’s latched onto him and dig her face into his shoulder. "I miss them Donald." She'd cry each time
"I know Dell, I do too." Donald was there for Della each time she needed him and Scrooge was there for him. He remembered when his uncle peeked in on him sitting on his bed, hands in his lap and just staring at the giant map Della had on her side of the room that was decorated with squiggles of notes she made.
"Everything alright lad?" His uncle asked as he fully stepped into the room taking in the sight of the destruction that was one of Della's acts of grief. The duckling just shrugged as he tried to get lost in the map.
"Yeah Uncle Scrooge, everything's fine." He said, but his uncle knew better. Scrooge walked over to his nephew and sat next to him.
"Aye lad you and I both know that's not the truth," he placed his hand on Donald's small shoulder. Something that Donald will never be able to feel again. "Mind telling me once more what's bothering ya?" The older duck asked and for the first time since his parents passing; Donald broke down crying and Scrooge didn't hesitant to wrap his nephew in a warm safe and caring hug.
"I miss them Uncle Scrooge, I want them back." He cried into his uncle's chest. Scrooge shushed his sobs as he ran a hand through the duckling’s feathers.
"There, there, it'll be alright lad. I'm here for ya."
But now in the present, Donald didn’t have anyone to comfort him like his uncle did way back then. He felt alone once more and he couldn't deal with it, not again. He was cracked when his parents died, he was chipped when Della got lost in space and now, he was crumbling, because his uncle was now lying in a coffin inside and he was outside with no one, he was alone.
Realization hit the duck. I can't be out here crying, my boys are in there mourning the loss of their great uncle, they need me for them like I needed him. He thought to himself leaning away from the wall. He straightened out hos jacket and adjusted his hat. He took a deep breath and fixed his attention towards the entrance of the mansion.
"Okay Donald you can do this they need their uncle." He told himself as he walked inside as he wiped away some more tears brought on by his tip through memory lane and prepared himself to look at the coffin once more. When he looked up his heart beat stopped. There in the middle of the isle was his Uncle Scrooge standing over Glomgold. "You're alive?" He asked, not sure if the sight in front of him was real. Everyone turned to him as if they were shocked by his presents and not the supposedly dead duck that was very much.
"You're alive!" He cried out. But the feeling of pure happiness did not last long, it was quickly replaced with light headedness, the world around him began to spin and soon everything in front of him went black.