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Red and white lighting crackled through the air, ‘not being a villain’ Dellas ass. Her knees stung lightly from where she was thrown roughly on the stone balcony. All the fight had drained out of her when she saw her normally unshakable, unbreakable, undefeatable uncle limp and dragged by his own damn CEO. Bradford had given an ultimatum; it was either adventure, or the lives of his family. To give Scrooge an incentive he proceeded to threaten the life of his nephew, her twin, dangling him over a portal of certain death.
Adventure was once again going to hurt and tear their family, it had happened with her, and now it had come for the life of her brother. Donald Duck, her loving, brave, dedicated brother, who took in her sons when the call of adventure lured her, who did his damndest to make sure they were cared for, who always stepped in when she was unable to. Whose life now dangled between a hand of sharp claws, paper and ink, and the whim of a villain. Della wondered if Donald had a fair point, making that 90’s themed wish.
He was supposed to be on vacation, he certainly deserved one after his last ‘vacation’ to the moon. Donald really did have the worst luck, didn’t he?
“One…” Bradford lifted a finger.
Della’s heart nearly stopped when she heard the tear of the uniform’s fabric as Donald sagged down, drawing him closer to oblivion. Frozen blood pumped throughout her whole being, leaving no room for protective rage. Della only felt the chill of losing her brother again, this time for good.
When he was lost before they could always find him, or he’d make his way back to them, or come home somehow! The pit of dread in the duck's stomach only grew, knowing there was absolutely no way for him to come back.
She didn’t want to think about her kids (his kids, her mind corrected) reactions. Four devastated ducklings, three of which had known him as their father for their whole lives. Their dad, in all but name.
“It felt like accepting you were gone forever,” Donald explained one night. He had tucked four tired ducklings into bed after an adventure, wishing them a good night and receiving a “Goodnight, Uncle Donald!” in return. “I couldn’t accept that you were gone just yet, and I didn’t feel like I deserved the title.”
He was wrong, he deserved the title as soon as he stepped up to fill her place. They were going to lose their father, and they could do nothing but watch through Black Heron’s camera.
Bradford’s second finger barely lifted up when she heard Scrooge’s voice speak up: “Alright I’ll do it.”
It was firm, but warbled with fear. Finalizing, and it scared the shit out of Della. Scrooge McDuck, smarter than the smarties, tougher than the toughies, and sharper than the sharpies, couldn’t find a way out of a stupid contract. The cold ball of lead grew heavier and heavier in her gut.
Donald, always putting his family before him, protested and shouted to his uncle. The way he squirmed in Bradfords grasp, just one slip from falling, filled Della with terror. It washed cold over back despite the heat from the portal, leaving a burning cold at the back of her scalp.
Scrooge gave them a resigned look, looking his age and possibly older. “It’s not worth the risk lad…” he said solemnly, scrawling his signature onto that pretentious papyrus.
It’s over, Della’s mind whispered. Chains of gold shot from the ground and wrapped her uncle in a python’s grip, she swore she could hear something pop or crack. It’s over, it’s done, we lost. But at least Donald will be safe.
The shock of it hadn't even sunk in when Della heard Bradford say something, and before she could even process it her dear brother was tossed into the void.
Screaming all the way down, engulfed in red, he disappeared.