67. “What did we do to make you think we wouldn’t do anything and everything for you?” and it's directed at Donald. I'm sorry I can't help myself.
This one really had me crying, y’all. I love my Donald and Scrooge interactions, and they really need some bonding time when Donald really does get back from the moon. As usual, this is open to continuations.)
“What did we do to make you think we wouldn’t do anything and everything for you?” @Donald
(P.S- set after the events of “I know you don’t care, you don’t have to pretend”. Read it here: https://shininglikealighthouse.tumblr.com/post/184876696482/prompt-80-with-donald-coming-back-from-the-moon-to
Scrooge didn’t know what to do. He’d tried everything- threats, cajoling, bribing, ultimatums- but nothing could get his nephew out of the guest room they had moved him to after the invasion. He supposed he should count that as a blessing; after all, Donald could have gone back to his houseboat and refused everyone, even Duckworth- the only one allowed in to bring him meals and medicine.
Everyone was miserable. Della tried her best to keep everyone’s spirits up by telling stories from the moon, or trips she, Donald and Scrooge had gone on before the kids were born. Those stories seemed to make things worse, and she soon stopped. Louie especially was having a hard time, making it a point to walk by the room multiple times a day, “just in case”. Huey tried to calm them with facts and logic, saying that Uncle Donald had been through a lot and needed time to process it all.
Scrooge didn’t know what to think. He was prepared for an arguement, a tearful reunion of siblings, or something of the like. The radio silence, especially coming from Donald, was worse than any situation he could have been expecting. He wouldn’t say a word when they attempted to talk to him through the door, the only testament to him still being in the room would be the bed creaking and sound of heavy breathing.
Eventually he had had enough. And so, one afternoon when the kids had been taken out by Beakley to Funzo’s at his request, he stomped his way up to Donald’s room, planting his feet firmly in front of it and rapped harshly on the cherry wood.
“Alright now, lad! You cannae ignore the whole world forever, you know!” He frowned, voice softening considerably, “You must get over this nonsense! We’re worried about you, Donald.”
There was silence on the other end of the door, as expected. This time, he didn’t let that stop him.
“The kids have gone out for the day with Beakley. The poor things are worried about you, lad, they just want to know you’re okay.” He rested a hand on the doorknob, “And I’d like te see those bandages of yours changed properly. I know Duckworth is refusing to change them for you.” He added with a hint of a scowl.
He really didn’t think it would work, but he must have underestimated just how much Donald had been trying to hold back when he felt the lock click under his hand and the door be left pulled open slightly. Scrooge waited until he could tell that Donald was back in the bed facing the door (he’d always been careful to be able to see all angles of the room) until he entered.
It was horrible. While he knew Duckworth had to have cleaned some of the mess up, Donald’s room was a mess of scattered clothes and knick-knacks, plates and cups, and what looked to be six entire tissue boxes’ worth of used tissues. He cringed, carefully stepping his way over and making room on the end of the bed to sit, keeping an eye on Donald all the while.
The duck stared blankly back at him through one eye, the other still covered by wrappings and gauze that was messily changed in what Scrooge assumed was Donald’s attempt to take care of himself. He set down his cane at the end of the bed, folding his hands in his lap and just looked back at his nephew, the silence cutting thick and uneasy between them.
“Are you going to talk, or just sit there staring at me?” Donald scoffed, picking up his water cup and taking a short sip.
Scrooge scowled and leaned forwards, before thinking better of it and just standing, grabbing the basket of medical supplies on the dresser and coming back to roughly tug the covers away from Donald.
This made him yell out in shock and cold, sitting up fully, “Hey!”
“Aye, ‘hey’ yourself! Jus’ what do ye think yer accomplishing here, wallowing away while we all worry about ye?” He huffed, rolling up his sleeves and fighting a squirming duck to redress his wounds and clean the dried blood from around them.
“Yeah, right. You’ve got Della back, you don’t need me.” Donald snapped, going stiff when Scrooge pulled the bandage away from his face and took a wet rag to it to get rid of the worst of the blood and ruined feathers.
He gave a quick pause at the words, before starting again and pressing gently on what he was increasingly worried was an infection.
“Now just what are you talking about, Donald? What has Della got to do with us being worried for you?” He coaxed, hoping to get some form of explanation for his nephew’s recent behavior. It only seemed to cause his guard to raise further, though, as the younger of the two crossed his arms.
“I dunno. Why don’t you tell me? You’re the one who took her on adventures with the boys while I was stuck in space.” Donald grumbled, making a point not to look anywhere near his uncle.
“Is that what you’re up in a fuss about? Donald, lad, in case you’ve forgotten, you were supposed to be on a cruise.” Scrooge tutted and spoke softly, starting to reapply bandages, “But if you must know, Della an’ I were working to get you back as soon as we realized what had happened.” He looked up then, placing a hand on his nephew’s good shoulder, “You should see the rocket behind the bin. I’ve never seen Della work so long and serious. Poor thing wasn’t sleeping.”
It was obvious to him, after all of these years spent with the duck, that Donald’s wall he had set up was beginning to crumble. The shoulder under his hand relaxed and then began to shake, and Scrooge carefully pulled himself closer to Donald as he was caught in a tight hug.
“I was so scared, Uncle Scrooge.” Came the quiet admittance, in a voice so small and filled with hurt that the old duck’s own heart hurt with the thought of just what his family had gone through.
“I know, lad. I’m so sorry.” He began smoothing back the beginnings of Donald’s head feathers, finally growing back in after all of his molting and stress.
“I-I was scared you weren’t looking for me. Didn’t want m-me back.”
Scrooge felt a pang of pure guilt at Donald’s words, unable to keep his own eyes from misting over and pulling his nephew closer, “Now just what made you think that, lad?”
All he got in response was a noncommital shrug, one that he knew hid self-conscious thoughts and feelings of not being good enough, something he dealt well enough with in the boy’s teenage years. While it had been more than a decade since seeing the gesture, he knew it all the same, and resolved himself as much as he had then to push those thoughts and feelings aside.
“Donald, lad. Look at me.” He spoke with a soft smile, waiting until he had a bright, tear-filled eye on him to speak, “What did we do to make you think we wouldn’t do anything and everything for you?”
His nephew sniffled and rubbed his nose free of snot, taking the tissue Scrooge handed him and blowing, taking deep breaths before giving his timid answer.
“Right. And you know we would do anything for you, aye?” He coaxed, a gentle hand on his back as he smiled wider.
Donald nodded, head falling to rest on the old duck’s shoulder, “Yeah, but-“
“Ah-ah. No buts.” Scrooge interjected, allowing the contact for a few minutes longer before pushing him up to look him in the eye, “Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll get this mess of a mangled room cleaned, and then you’ll have a proper wash-up, and when Bentina comes along with the children we will all have a nice family dinner. Deal?”
Donald gave a soft sigh, smiling and giving an assenting nod, “Deal.”
Scrooge stood, making his way around the room to begin picking up the tissues scattered about when he heard a quiet sniffle and turned, seeing Donald’s eyes filled with tears again. He came back to the bed, kneeling in front of the duck and taking his hands.
“It’s good to have you home, Donald.”
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