Chapter Text
Everything sucked was an understatement. From the feeling of her mouth sore even raw from the constant chewing gum managing the scrape the inside of her cheeks and tongue with a mismanage of her teeth. Her teeth were also sore - it wasn’t like Della was on top of her dental hygiene, but it showed itself much more prevalent now. Her head always pounded for a list of reasons but could be pinpointed to stress, lack of sleep, and her body adjusting to the undisputed stupid piece of gum. A normal stick of gum has 4 calories total but if that were the case with the gum Della had then she would have had a lot more problems with her health. The scientific marvel had jam packed calories in accordance with the calories needed by the body.
However, her stomach had shrank from lack of use despite the calories. She seemed to shrink while the abundance of nutrition seemed to focus itself to grow out her hair.
The moon was also not as constant as the earth with temperatures ranging both way higher and lower than the earth could ever dream of confining Della to her ship with some consistency. As well as protection from the radiation of the moon and solar flares. Not to mention the regolith that wouldn’t stop clinging to the inside of any gaps in Della’s artificial leg she constructed along with clinging to any piece of Della reachable. It wasn’t even a nice rocky substance since it wasn’t under the same conditions of earth being worn down by the oceans. Just like everything on the planet everything that was there was an abrasive fighter. Della had to follow in their footsteps to survive herself.
That meant fighting for every rocket part from being confiscated by a big crawling monster. With years of virtually decades of practicing, the moon was a different beast where Della had to adjust some of her methods to deal with the adversities of the moon. Even with fighting the moon monster Della had to adjust to the lighter gravity to a lack of a leg to fully feel and control like before. Della would occasionally get either pinched or spitted on by the monster but more and more Della exploited the weakness of the monster so she would result in more victorious matches. She had to consider what all of this was for. To see her family.
It would be so easy to lie down and spit out the gum, but she wanted to see her boys, her family again. To apologize and to witness them doing anything. To talk to someone again or to eat a chili dog. The further Della lived the more she was motivated to not let her last moments be so far from earth.
Della opened her eyes to the moon’s atmosphere as a gasp. It was normal to wake up this way especially when her gum stopped producing oxygen due to a lack of chewing when in REM sleep. Della would paste the gum to the ridge of her bill to prevent a swallow from occurring that put her closer to death. She would sacrifice some air for an investment towards another day where she does not run out of the gum entirely. It just meant that Della would lack consistent sleep time. Taking 10 minutes to provide a little bit of REM sleep so that Della could function a bit better. Excessive chewing seemed to provide ten minutes worth of not needing the life saving gum. After however, it was essential in a matter of seconds to chew on. Della had to keep the bundles of gum on her just in case.
“Are you going to get up or just lay about?” It was a fake Scrooge. She knew it was exclusive to her imagination, but she couldn’t address it as such for a fear that the voice would disappear, and she would find herself to be utterly alone.
“I’m up,” Della said after enough chewing to be able to speak out loud. She could imagine Scrooge nodding approvingly since he was one to prioritize an early bird over one that slept in. At least she could assume that despite the moon’s 28 rotational period that prolonged a sense of day and night that in Duckburg she would be getting up at the appropriate time. She could imagine that anyway. Della rose from her lying position on top of her worn out astronaut suit and made it over to the rocket manual.
“Hi mom, did you sleep well?” It was her recreation of her son Rebel she created in her mind.
“You know I did my best. What are you up to in order to ask such a question?” She imagined all her boys to be playfully rebellious, so she played that up to provide some comfort.
“Nothing,” she imagined Rebel replying with his eyes flickering side to side. Della looked to where she imagined he’s looking to see a part of the rocket ship astray. She shakes her head playfully and picks up the rocket part.
“Thanks for the rocket part. I’ll be sure to put it on the rocket ship by myself.” The rocket ship part hadn’t been there in Della’s recollection but due to the fact that she slept quite little she had produced fits of microsleep throughout the day and would blackout memories that were otherwise repetitive or gaps with adrenaline pumping throughout her body she wouldn’t gather up too many memories from that course of action. These instances bleed into her day and Della would keep tabs of it from the surprising, detailed date and time on the rocket that did not seem to stop with electricity or the sheer impact of the crash initially. It was one of the only things grounding Della to earth with the time of Duckburg and the time zone associated with it. As well as a calendar so Della could physically mark up the days that passed.
Della would try and spend the first of her day checking what she missed when under the influence of sleep. Any dents or electrical issues with the outside of the rocket. Going outside of the rocket was incredibly risky with the extreme temperatures. Today being in the colder aspect hitting -53 degrees Celsius if Della rigged the thermostat right. This being a much nicer variant than the further extreme as cold as -250 and as hot as 130 in Celsius. With the right equipment Della always found a way to escape the confinements of the ship even if it is for a short duration.
Della could manage the frostbite and the heat exhaustion when the situation rose. It was the mental aspect that really took her down, especially what she internalized from her family members. She let the guilt be since she could really manage it and part of what she hated herself for had little room to argue. She was a neglectful mother who disrespected her brother’s wishes and stole her uncle’s rocket. Why did she expect a better outcome? Why did she think she could outweigh the anxieties, sadness, and irritability of being a mother with an even heavier decision if that were possible? She still produced a determination to make it off the moon and an ounce of hope that things could work out. She wanted to be able to adventure with her sons even the glimpse of them would give her a final push to get to them. As long as they were alive that’s all Della needed, she didn’t care if they differed from her picture. To be honest she preferred it since she did only give a scribble into their appearance.
Della also noted the camera she set up to send transmissions to her kids as a way of reassurance. She sat down in front of the camera with determinant. She imagined her kids behind the camera with bated breath with wide eyes on their mom on screen.
“Hiya kids. It is close to the anniversary of six years on the moon. Time flies except not really for me but I hope for you three it has.” Della then as per usual went off on a tangent towards the camera. Discussing in a one-sided conversation about anything and everything. Della discussed the stars in the sky discussing how they looked unfiltered by earth’s atmosphere. Analyzing the constellations seemed to be one of the few activities that could spark the joy she would carry on from her early adulthood, youth, even early childhood as she sparked wonder looking above her. Now Della could now only fixate on a below angle of the earth. The stars still sparkled with reminisce of those simpler times, they still called out to her beckoning her to join them. It would be cozier. To Della she always imagined space travel to be the pinnacle of freedom, and open space instead she met with the trapping of the moon.
It was not even the damnation of hell as hell would indicate that there was a finale to be had but she was bound to the notions of what if. Della through the camera told her sons that she would be in their arms soon. ‘Soon’ she always said soon as it was the only form of time tracking, she had. Anything more than soon could be never and that could only spiral Della down deeper into a pit that would escalate into something that would be seemingly impossible to climb out of. When Della cut the camera, she felt the void of putting on a friendly, brave face. She felt numb trying to devoid herself of any emotion that attempted to claw out to her, trapping her emotions like an animal trapped in the ribcage to her heart.
“Its good to keep on a brave face to them all. They do not need to know any more than the extent of monster hunting and gold findings. Trust me, they don’t need to lose you twice to the moon.” It was fake Scrooge reassuring her that she had made the right choice in her ways of talking to everyone. That it was some sort of fun adventure that she got herself into instead of hurting herself physically and emotionally every second she remained alive.
“Is that why you haven’t brought up any more ships?” Della asked her voice cold at the edges, “because you think I’m some sort of fucking knock off of Isabelle Finch?”
“You already had the privilege of getting one ship to you. Do you think I would waste my money bin on bringing you home? Why would I risk everything to rescue someone who wasted my life already with their mistake? I raised you to be independent and self reliant if you can’t do that then you have failed the adventure and deserve to stay here.”
“I am not a failure,” Della retorted determinate, “I have learned, grown, and will end up in my boys’ arms in the end. I don’t need you and your money.”
“Mommy,” Turbo’s voice echoed in Della’s ear, “when you land back on earth are you going to abandon us like you did your real kids?” This was the question that broke the dam Della was so determined to keep sturdy. Her eyes watered and her throat was dry but resisted from opening to a wail. She knew everyone that could talk to her was fake and conjured out of her from her loneliness. Though it showed that by each day everyone – especially her sons – were getting more and more real and there had been a lot of days gone by already. Della wiped her tears from her face. She knew would have to amount to more than this for the day or else her day was not worth it. Again, another pathway not best to linger on. Della had suited up to go outside to go scavenging for gold. She was still determined to find any sliver of the metal. Della snapped her goggles into place and exited the ship. Della would be subject to the harsh weather conditions but despite that put a determination on herself to avoid yelling that it was bone numbingly cold. Della trudged through the light atmosphere using a shovel she found on ship – a shovel was supplied when not even a flake of gold that steered the ship had any surplus onboard. It was certainly rigorous work pulling her limbs and muscles with a purpose. Della let the numbness of herself deter from the eventual pain after her efforts it would all be worth it if she could find the only thing preventing her from coming home.
Della would have gone on essentially forever if not for the fact that the longer she spent outside the more she was exposed to everything. The moon dust would cut into any skin exposed and even though Della didn’t inhale the atmosphere she had to try her best to close her mouth to prevent some sort of lunar dust hay fever. Della with a heavy heart travelled back to the rocket. She had to be careful not to let the shadows and light manipulate a false advertisement and her steps. As Della was about to step onto the rocket a familiar sound was heard, and Della sprung into action. The monster that dominated the moon like it was their backyard and she was a pest. It might not have been inaccurate but instead of letting her be the monster tended to make everything difficult for her in the process of trying to leave.
Della bounced off the ground with a kick leading her metal leg to push through the monster. The monster backed up and happened to give up fighting Della as they buried themselves back into the ground. Della scoffed honestly a little disappointed as this fighting was the only thing that Della had to something interacting with her on the otherwise isolating moon. Then before Della could ponder the reasoning, she was shown the reason as everything around her shook uncontrollably. It was an earthquake that the monster could tell before Della ever could. Della raced to control her end of things making sure everything was stable enough to last the impact. Della understood from Donald’s grievances back on earth that it was best to look after yourself before other things but if this rocket was the only connection to earth and back to her boys, she considered it an extension of herself to save.
The earthquakes would not be considered to worst that earth could have offered but nonetheless they replicated the kind of earthquake that could lead to minor damages and hell if Della would let anything of hers break down even further. Withstanding the tremors Della was able to stand back on the ground and move back into her habitat. The things Della left on the floor had shifted as well as the camera which was Della’s number one priority to fix first.
“Oi, you’re leaving things to lay about,” the fake uncle Scrooge mustered in frustration.
“Priorities uncle Scrooge.”
“Priorities would have been a useful tool six years ago,” it was fake Donald who always no matter what made a familiar part of her heart crack with guilt sadness.
“Priorities with the eggs, with my money to waste it on a rocket that you decided to crash.” Della felt suffocated with all of this being brought to the surface right now right with her digging all day as well as the monster and earthquake. Della stopped chewing her gum letting the remaining oxygen simmer in her mouth not letting it enter her lungs. She held her breath like a child trying to halt all means of production in her body so that she could think. Of course, it was a silly tactic to try, and Della started hyperventilating needing the oxygen even more.
“You even fail at using the resources to breath properly,” Scrooge – fake Scrooge – scorned, “you’re a screw up, a mess, you should have been discarded on the street when your parents died or better, yet you should have gone with them.”
“Scrooge you’re being too harsh,” Donald said, “don’t bring my parents and your sister into Della’s ridicule.”
“Mommy, everyone’s being mean to you,” Jet noticed. Della let that point be the point of breakage.
“Everyone go away! You’re not real! Only I’m really here and these are all thoughts I’m conjuring through you. Go away!” Della screamed trying to get these bad hallucinogens out of her head. Della turned to the reflection of the rocket that still was clean enough to see her reflection in. She could see she was alone. It was a seemingly reality check that Della had desperately needed. Della sat down letting her brain calm down with her feelings and thoughts and looked at herself. She could deal with herself but the self that reflected in the mirror started to change. Della dazed into it as her mind numbed down starting to see things but not being able to react. The reflection distorted her face into someone else someone tired and not alive. A blink and a chew were the only actions coming from the reflection and Della didn’t see them as herself she couldn’t connect to the mirror. It was like having a potential friend she could deflect to, so Della gazed upon the reflection and did nothing else. She couldn’t bring herself to do anything else, what was the point?
Della saw a monster by her, or as her, and she flinched, the reflection copied her, and it sent her through a whirlpool of emotions. Her eyes were red, she didn’t look like anything friendly or anything recognizable. Della started to feel uncomfortable, and it then escalated to terror. Della closed her eyes to shake off the feeling – it was her reflection initially but when she opened her eyes the distorted figure remained the same. Della felt herself rush with adrenaline to get up her limbs ached with non-comfortability screaming at her to stay stationary, to never move again. Della looked to her time tracker to find when she was able to go to sleep and start over in the morning. Not only was the time off by many hours but the date had shifted three weeks in advance. Della figured it had maybe been the earthquake but that had never happened before. Della looked out the window to find the holes she had dug out to have been close to closing with the dust slowly filling them up.
Della panicked and happened to look in the direction of her reflection. It remained distorted and Della looked away harshly – Della could swear she saw a smile creep up the face of the reflection of a sense of evilness like Della’s manifestation of guilt buried itself there. Della never bothered to look at the reflection again for when she did it remained to have the familiar face she funnily enough would come to know. For now, it was time for her excessive gum chewing so she could get some REM sleep and the cycle could continue to get home to her boys. They were always worth the pain of the moon.