Chapter Text
Dewey Duck hated crying.
He especially hated crying where anyone could see him.
But here he was anyway, sitting on the bottom step of the manor staircase, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands as tears slipped down his face. He’d tried talking it out loud, tried joking it away, tried being Dewey about it—but none of that had worked this time. The feelings had gotten too big, too heavy.
He sniffed, scrubbing at his eyes angrily. “Stupid,” he muttered to himself.
Soft footsteps echoed behind him.
Dewey tensed, shoulders rising, but when he glanced back he saw Scrooge McDuck standing there, cane in hand, concern plain on his face. Instead of commenting or teasing, Scrooge quietly set his cane aside and carefully lowered himself onto the step beside Dewey.
“Rough day, is it?” Scrooge asked gently.
Dewey shrugged, staring at the floor. “Guess so.”
Scrooge studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Mind if I sit with ye?”
Dewey shook his head. “No… that’s fine.”
They sat in silence for a moment, broken only by Dewey’s uneven breathing. Finally, Dewey swallowed and said, “I just… I feel like no matter how hard I try, I’m still not enough. Like I gotta be louder or braver or—something.”
His voice cracked, and that was enough to set the tears off again.
Scrooge didn’t hesitate. He placed a steady, gloved hand on Dewey’s back, rubbing slow circles, grounding and warm. “Dewey,” he said quietly, “ye don’t have to earn yer place in this family.”
Dewey sniffed. “Doesn’t feel like that sometimes.”
“Aye,” Scrooge admitted. “Feelings rarely listen to reason. Believe me, I know.”
Dewey leaned into him without really thinking, his forehead resting against Scrooge’s arm. Scrooge shifted, pulling him into a careful side hug—firm, protective, real.
“Ye’ve got heart,” Scrooge continued. “A big one. Bigger than ye realize. And that matters more than any adventure, any headline, any scheme.”
Dewey’s breathing slowly steadied. “You really mean that, Uncle Scrooge?”
Scrooge smiled softly. “Every word.”
Dewey wiped his face with his sleeve, still tucked against him. “…Thanks.”
Scrooge gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Anytime, Dewey. I’ve got ye.”
And for now, that was enough.