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“Oh man, I remember that! It was so cool! The way you three were running around and making him think Dewey was in 3 places at once! I didn’t even know that you guys were that good at mimicking each other!”
“Well, yeah, duh. When you spend every waking minute with someone you get pretty good at impersonating them. Louie can also do a killer Uncle Donald.” Dewey waves off Webby’s comment like it’s no big deal but her expression clearly states otherwise.
“I mean, yeah, I guess. But you guys are perfect at it! I mean, I know you guys are identical but-”
“We’re actually not identical triplets. We’re fraternal. We all had our own eggs.” Huey pipes in, Louie rolling his eyes.
“She meant our looks are identical, not our freaking genomes or whatever nerd speak you mean.” He tells Huey, who only glares at him.
“What I’m saying is that if you guys really tried, I bet no one would be able to tell you apart!” Webby continues to speak. “You could use it against bad guys, and when treasure hunting! They’d think you’re in one place and then BAM you’re somewhere else! They’d be so confused!”
“Yeah, probably. We’ve been able to fool pretty much everyone since birth.” Dewey nods, and Huey nods along.
“Everyone, actually, except for one person.”
Webby looks surprised at this fact, her eyebrows shooting up into her forehead as she bounces to stand in front of the triplets. “What?! Who?!”
The three look surprised that she hasn’t guessed.
“Uncle Donald, obviously.” They reply in unison.
_____
Panchito stares down at the three ducklings in shocked horror, trying to figure out what to do.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time, bathing the little patitos while Donald took a nap. He’d been overworking himself trying to take care of his nephews, and while he and Jose couldn’t stay forever, they could try and help out now. At least for a while.
This… Well, this wasn’t helping.
“Uh, Donald, mi amigo, we may have created a slight problem…” Panchito announces as Donald leaves his bedroom with at least slightly more rested eyes. Immediately the exhaustion returns to them as Panchito announces a problem.
“What did you two do?” Donald asks, his voice more gravelly than usual as he tries to wake himself up.
“Eh, well, we said we would watch the patitos for you, and we did! They were very much watched, and they are all doing most wonderfully! All bathed and fed and napping now!” Panchito knows to start there, and he’s happy to see the weight in Donald’s shoulders lifts, at least a little.
“Then what’s the problem?”
Panchito’s smile grows more nervous as he leads Donald in the living room-made nursery of the house boat. “Well, to bathe them, as you know, you must undress them, so unfortunately your colour coding has become far less effective…”
Jose stands in the living room, holding one of the little yellow babies in his arms while the other two sleep peacefully in their bassinet. All they’re wearing are their diapers, nothing to distinguish one from the other. Even now, while Donald believes that eventually their eyes would change colour, they’re all a deep black with little definition.
Even still, Donald steps up to the bassinet and points them out one by one.
“Dewey. Huey. And Louie.” He ends with the baby being held by Jose, and both his friends stare at him with wide eyes.
“Donald, you know I trust you with my life, but how on Earth do you know which is which just like that?” Jose asks, and Donald points to them once again.
“Dewey sucks his thumb, Huey won’t sleep without holding onto at least one of his brothers, and Louie is clingy.” He points to Dewey’s thumb in his mouth, to Huey holding onto Dewey’s diaper, and to Louie hanging onto Jose’s jacket as he sleeps. “It’s obvious.”
The two birds stare at him for a moment longer before Panchito lets out a soft laugh and slaps Donald on the shoulder.
“This only proves all the more that I am not meant for fatherhood, mi amigo. I wish you all the best.”
Donald rolls his eyes, though a smile lightens his face and makes the bags under his eyes look at least a little lighter.
_____
“Come on, that’s it! Come to Uncle Donald!” Donald urges as Gladstone sits on the deck chair behind him, watching with silent intrigue.
Huey waddles along on his little webbed feet until he makes it to Donald’s arms, at which point his uncle scoops him up with a cheer. “That’s it! Gladstone, did you see? He took four steps this time! That’s a new record!”
“I saw, I saw.” Gladstone nods, bouncing Louie quietly on his knee. He’s gotten at least a little better with the triplets now that they’re beginning to develop a personality past throwing up on his favourite suits. “But wait, I thought he was up to ten last time I was here?”
“No, that’s Dewey,” Donald responds, gesturing over to the third triplet bouncing himself while holding onto the edge of the couch.
“Right, right, and he’s the one who hasn’t spoken yet..?” hHe asks, and Donald shakes his head.
“No, that’s Huey,” Donald replies, gesturing down to the toddler he’s holding only for Gladstone to shake his head and look down at the toddler still bouncing on his leg, now with a fist inside of his mouth.
“Wait- I thought I was holding Huey?” He asks, and Gladstone lets out a long sigh.
“No, you’re holding Louie, who’s the one who hasn’t taken his first steps yet,” he says, only for Gladstone to shake his head.
“I don’t know how you do it, cous. Keeping the three of them straight. I think I’d start losing feathers. Though, now that I think about it, I wouldn’t try taking a look at the back of your head any time soon.” The comment comes out teasing. He ignores the pointed glare from Donald as he takes a closer look at the triplet in his arms, trying to figure out if there’s any differentiating features at all.
All he gets in return is Louie reaching out and grabbing onto his bill with slobbery hands.
“Yeah, I really don’t know how you do it, Donnie.”
Donald looks with real surprise this time, an eyebrow raised in Gladstone’s direction. “Can you really not tell them apart?” he asks, and Gladstone shakes his head.
“Nope. They are perfectly identical.”
Donald looks down at the triplet in his hands, Huey staring up at him with a bright and happy smile that Donald finds so different from his brothers.
“Huh.”
_____
“This is the last time we let this slide, young man. You cannot keep taking your brother’s tests for them. How are they ever supposed to learn anything if you get all of their grades for them?”
Huey’s eyes are wide as he’s pulled through the hallways by their teacher, a blue shirt on his body and his hair gelled up.
“But I am Dewey!” He lies. “I really did take the test myself!”
“That’s enough out of you, we’ll be calling your uncle to settle this!”
They’re a few steps from the principal's office when a loud crash sounds from around the corner. The teacher nearly jumps out of her skin, letting go of Huey’s hand for just long enough for Dewey to pull him out of the hall and into a class before replacing him.
“What was that? Should you go check that out?” Dewey asks, pointing off in the direction it came in, only for the teacher to look down at him with a scowl.
“What? So the real Dewey can switch out with you while I’m distracted? I don’t think so!” She tells him, before grabbing his hand once more and continuing towards the office.
Once the door is opening, she calls out, “Call Mr. Duck this instant and tell him to get down here! And don’t take your eye off of this young man for a moment!”
Dewey leans on the desk, rolling his eyes before the secretary looks at him.
“Wow, you guys are early. It’s not even third period yet.”
“Yeah, I was trying to beat a record. Hey, do you have any candy in here?”
“Enough, Mr. Duck. Sit down and wait for your uncle to get here.”
It’s only about 20 minutes later that Donald is walking into the principal's office, clearly upset at having been called down. He lets out a sigh, looking at Dewey.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing! She just has it out for me, Uncle Donald! She said I cheated on my test when I didn’t!”
“That is not what I said. I said that you took Dewford’s test for him.” The teacher says with a scowl, walking up behind Donald. “Now, Mr. Duck, if you could please tell me which triplet this is so that I can punish him accordingly, then you can be on your way.”
Donald looks at the teacher, then back to Dewey, then back once more.
“This is Dewey,” he tells the teacher point blank.
The teacher bulks for a moment, her eyes growing wide before looking back down at the triplet sitting in the chair. “What? No, it’s not. This is the one that was taking the test. It can’t be Dewford!”
Donald looks back at Dewey, looking him over once more as the triplet smiles before nodding. “Nope, that’s Dewey. Did you really bring me down all this way from work because Dewey was taking his own test?” he asks, all the while the teacher continues to speak.
“But no! That can’t be! That must be one of the others, it can’t be him! I was sure of it!” She speaks and Donald only lets out a sigh.
“Come on, Dewey, let’s get you to class before I have a word with your principal.”
“Sure thing, uncle D.” Dewey says with a smile as he hops out of the chair.
Outside of the door, the other two triplets are waiting, looking surprised to see Donald come out with Dewey.
“Boys, aren’t you supposed to be in class?” He asks, before shaking his head. “Nevermind, actually, just go there now, and take Dewey with you.” He pushes the blue triplets forward before turning back towards the principal’s office. He pauses before heading back, looking over his shoulder. “Huey. Why is your hair wet?”
Louie jumps up in front of him. “Oh, you know how school is for nerds like him! Can’t go a day without getting his head dunked in a toilet. Okay, bye Uncle Donald! Love you!”
The three run off, leaving Donald behind to roll his eyes.
_____
It’s been a few weeks since Donald and the triplets moved into the manor, and for the most part it’s going well. There have been a few hiccups, of course there have been, but nothing that they can’t get past.
For the most part, anyway.
Donald still finds his eye twitching whenever his uncle gets into one of his tirades, but he’d gotten good at blocking it out as a teen.
What he can’t block out is watching Louie walk into the kitchen and greet their uncle. Donald is surprised to see him wearing one of Dewey’s blue sweaters rather than his own green hoodie.
“Mornin’ Uncle D. Uncle Scrooge.”
“It’s 1 o’clock in the afternoon, Dewey. Are ye’ just now gettin’ out of bed?” Scrooge replies, and Louie shrugs.
“Oh, so it is. What a shame. Anyway, did Mrs. B. make breakfast?” Donald looks between the two of them for a moment before speaking up.
“Uncle Scrooge, that’s not Dew-”
“HEY, Uncle Donald, look at that, it’s a seagull! Outside the window. Remember when we used to see those all the time down at the docks? Good times, right? So, breakfast?”
Scrooge looks down at Louie with confusion, before he shakes his head. “There’s some cereal in the pantry, Dewey, if ye’ want an actual breakfast ye’ll have to wake up before noon.”
Louie lets out a laugh, “Right, sure thing, Uncle Scrooge. I’ll give it the old college try tomorrow.” He smiles before Scrooge is leaving and Donald is frowning down at his youngest nephew.
“What was that?”
Louie lets out a breath before looking up at his uncle. “That was you almost blowing my cover, Uncle D, way to go.” When Donald only crosses his arms over his chest Louie sighs. “Scrooge can’t tell us apart except for the colours. So, why would I get him to think that I’m the one getting up in the afternoon when he could think that Dewey is the lazy one? Duh. That inheritance is mine.”
Donald just takes one last long look at his youngest before shaking his head. “Don’t confuse your uncle on purpose.”
“Ugh, you sound just like Huey.”
_____
“I know you wanted to go out tonight, Dewey, but I need you to understand that you can’t just sneak out whenever you want. It’s dangerous, okay? You could get hurt and none of us would know where you are.”
Della speaks down to Dewey, trying to keep an air of authority over herself. Beakley has been teaching her a bit more about parenting, and she thinks she’s starting to get better at being a voice of authority without going full-on ‘totalitarian regime.’
Huey has also been helping her a little bit, and that may or may not have been how he described it.
Regardless;
“Adventuring is one thing. Your uncles and I are there to help you, but Gosalyn is only two years older than you, and fighting crime is a completely different ballpark. I know you think I’m being too hard on you, but it’s because I care about you and I don’t want to see you get hurt mindlessly jumping into danger.”
Donald walks up behind her with a raised eyebrow, peeking into the boy’s room to see what’s going on.
He’s surprised to say the least when he sees Louie sitting on his own bed in one of Dewey’s shirts though his hair still sat over his forehead.
“Della?” he cuts in, and his sister looks over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “I thought it was Dewey who was grounded.”
Della pauses, looking down at the triplet sitting in front of her. She’s quiet for a moment.
“He is the one who’s grounded,” she starts, already piecing together where this is going.
“Then why are you giving Louie a speech?” he asks, and Della lets out a groan.
“Because I thought he was Dewey! I’m new to this! He’s wearing blue!” She gestures towards her youngest who’s still staring at his phone in boredom. “Where did he go?” she asks, and Louie finally looks up.
“Out with Gos,” he replies, and Della lets out another groan before she’s stomping out of the room to go find him. She only pauses briefly to look back into the room. “We will be discussing this later, young man,” she tells Louie before she’s gone.
Donald lets out his own sigh. “What did he give you?”
“Six months allowance.”
“Right.”
_____
“He’s going to know.”
“Yeah, but I just want to test it! And granny is in there! I want to see if you can fool her, too!” Webby continues to push the triplets in front of her, each one of them dressed in each other’s clothing with their hair done up to mimic the other.
Huey sticks his hands into the pocket of Louie’s sweater as they stop just outside of the kitchen, pulling out Louie’s phone to look more the part. “We don’t need to test him. I mean, he’s always been able to. Why would this time be any different?”
Except Huey can see the same anxiety shifting over his brother’s faces. Something they haven’t been willing to say out loud. Sure, Donald’s always been able to tell them apart before, but now… He’s been spending more time away, more time with Daisy, more time on the houseboat.
What if… he can’t tell them apart anymore? But before they can delay anymore, Webby is pushing them into the kitchen.
“Just do it!”
They stumble into the kitchen, looking up at the adults gathered in the room.
“What are you three up to?” Donald immediately asks, and Dewey stands up straighter, adjusting the hat on his head to sit a little straighter, trying to refrain from turning it backwards.
“Uh.” He clears his throat, then puts on that stupid sweet smile that Huey uses to greet adults. “Oh, hi Uncle Donald. We just wanted to see if there was anything to snack on.” He does a perfect impression of his brother and he can already see his uncle raising an eyebrow.
Huey looks up from Louie’s phone before looking back down. “Yeah, like, maybe that pie that I definitely didn’t hear Mrs. B. talk about making for uncle Scrooge? Something like that?”
“Even if said pie did exist, Louie, you’re not having it before dinner. It’ll ruin your appetite.” Mrs. Beakley speaks, and Della nods.
“Yeah, what she said. You can have a small snack. Like, some fruit. Or crackers.”
“Ou, charcuterie time. We love to see it.” Louie says, using Dewey’s voice as he goes for the fridge.
Donald stops him half way. “No, really, what are you three doing?”
Louie pauses, looking up at Donald with just a hint of surprise on his face. He meets his uncle’s eyes and sees the knowing look.
“Just… making sure, you know?”
The other two move towards the fridge, smiling up at Donald as their uncle seems to realize what Louie’s words mean.
He smiles down at them, taking Huey’s hat off Dewey’s head and ruffling his hair.
“Always, boys,” he tells them. “Always.”