Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

   It had been a crazy day. Somehow, a failed attempt to sneak into Scrooge’s room turned into discovering his “other bin” of endless possibilities, among them a sword horse!

   Webby oh-so-wanted to keep exploring the other bin, but seeing Lena writhing on the ground and feeling her shake after rousing from the nightmare kind of ruined Webby’s excitement. So she didn’t mind when Lena suggested leaving.

   Scrooge wasn’t too happy when they ran into him on their way back, but Webby thought his frown was a little proud. She and Lena had found and survived the other bin, even if they hadn’t seen the dragon. Maybe he’d bring her back some other day.

   Webby was busy mentally running through points to make to Scrooge -she wanted more information on the “other” things he kept down here, she could learn about these creatures in case she ever encountered one outside, there was a dragon - when she realized Lena wasn’t following her and Scrooge. 

   “Mr. McDuck, there’s something I need to tell you.”

   Scrooge paused. Webby ran to the next spiral of the staircase so she could look down. Lena was still on the floor, her fists clenched and brows drawn together. 

   “My aunt is ma-” Lena broke off with a shudder. Maybe it was the lighting, but Webby could have sworn a shadow flickered across her eyes. “My aunt is ma…”

   Lena’s arms clamped to her sides as she seemed to struggle to get her words out. But her beak moved silently.

   “Yes, lass, jus’spit it out,” Scrooge said.

   Lena’s face scrunched like she was in pain. “Ma-a…”

   “Lena?” Webby leaned over the railing. “You okay?”

   Lena put her hand in front of her mouth while she struggled to speak, like she was feeling for the words. Panic flared in her eyes as her voice turned into a choking sound. She grasped frantically at her throat, eyes widening.

   “Lena!” Webby cried. She vaulted over the railing, landing on the floor in a crouch. “Lena, what’s attacking you?”

   “M-my au-au… aunt-t,” Lena ground out.

   Her aunt? Was her aunt some sort of invisible creature? No, Lena was a normal duck.

   Lena fell to her knees, body jerking as she tried to suck in air. Without warning, Lena gagged. She coughed out a thick mess of black, then shakily lifted her head.

   Black flecked her beak and her eyes were dark as she whispered weakly, “Help… me.”

   Lena’s eyes rolled back, then she went limp. Webby jumped forward, catching and supporting her friend. Though, considering Lena was twice her size, Webby found herself quickly losing her grip.

   Scrooge suddenly swept Lena into his arms. Webby bounced up, worriedly eyeing Lena’s limp frame as the pair made their way toward the stairs.

   “Let’s get’er tah bed, Webby,” Scrooge said. Halfway up the steps, Scrooge said, “Webbigail.” Webby looked back with wide eyes at the use of her full name. “Ah need yew tah tell me exactly what yew two touched down here.”

   “Just the sword horse and mystical dreamcatcher,” Webby explained. “Why? Could they have made her sick?”

   “Ah’m not sure, lass.” Scrooge paused. When Webby looked up, he was frowning over his shoulder. “But somethin’ has ah hold on yer friend.”

   The boys were looking for Uncle Scrooge when they ran into Webby. Literally.

   Dewey bounced off the wall, but stayed on his feet. Huey -still raw from running off Tenderfeet- fell flat on his back and stared at the ceiling with a broken expression in his eyes. Louie, holding a can of Pep at the back of the group, avoided most of the collision.

   “Alright, what’s chasing you?” Louie asked blandly. “Do I need the flame resistant vest or a helmet? Or both?”

   Dewey turned and attempted to pull Huey to his feet. He glanced up while Webby struggled to answer Louie’s question and was surprised by her terrified expression. He promptly dropped his older sibling and went to Webby.

   “Webby, what’s wrong?”

   Webby shook herself. Dewey frowned. She’d faced ghosts, mummies, and evil agents from her granny’s past. What could have her so rattled?

   “Webby?” Dewey said, touching her arm.

   “Have you seen Granny?” she asked, a bit shakily. 

   “She’s in the kitchen,” Louie said.

   Webby nodded curtly, then darted past the boys without explaining. Dewey hesitated for a split-second, then he and his brothers ran after her. They raced through the halls, down the steps, and burst into the kitchen.

   “Granny!” Webby yelled.

   Mrs. Beakly spun, one hand coming up defensively while the other wielded a spatula in the fierce way only she could pull off. Her eyes scanned the room, then she relaxed.

   “Webby, what-”

   Webby rushed across the room and tightly hugged her legs, startling Mrs. Beakly into silence. The housekeeper glanced at the boys. Huey shrugged.

   Dewey peered closer at Webby. His beak dropped open. Was Webby shaking?

   “Webby, what’s wrong?” Granny asked. “Are you hurt?”

   Webby shook her head and stepped back, pulling on Granny’s hand. “Scrooge needs you in my room. Lena’s sick!”

   “Sick?” Granny repeated.

   “I-I think so?” Webby shook with uncertainty. “She was just fine, but then she started choking, then she threw up and fainted, and, and- come on!”

   Webby tugged Mrs. Beakly out of the kitchen. This time, Dewey didn’t hesitate. He ran after the pair, arriving at the doorway at the same time as them.

   Lena was laying on a makeshift bed of sleeping bags. Two thick blankets were covering her, but Lena was shivering hard. Uncle Scrooge stood over her, expression distracted.

   “What happened?” Huey asked.

   Webby shrugged helplessly. “We only touched the sword horse and dreamcatcher, I promise!”

   Dewey blinked. Where in the world would Webby have found a unicorn? 

   “Ah ken, ah ken, lass,” Scrooge said. “There’s few objects in the other bin that could cause… this.”

   “Wait, ‘other bin’?” Louie repeated with a fair amount of excitement.

   “Full’o curses and other ne'er-do-wells,” Scrooge responded.

   “Oh.”

   “What exactly is ‘this’?” Granny asked.

   Scrooge glanced at Webby. “Kids, wait in the hall.”

   “But-”

   Lena’s gag cut off Webby’s protest.

   “Beakly, help me-” Scrooge started.

   Lena jerked upright. Her eyes shot open, revealing the whites of her eyes had turned gray. She twisted to the side and threw up on the sleeping bags.

   Scrooge gave a groan as he grabbed Lena when she went limp again. “Beakly, ah suggest burnin’ those bags. Webby, help me, lass.”

   Webby scurried to help Uncle Scrooge move Lena. Dewey and Louie dragged an uncontaminated blanket from Webby’s messy bed, but Huey was staring at the spot on which Lena had thrown up.

   “Uncle Scrooge? What is that?” Huey asked.

   “Don’t touch it!” Scrooge admonished. “Beakly, keep an eye on Lena, ah need tah check somethin’.”

   “Uh, Mrs. Beakly?” Huey said hesitantly, making everyone look up. He was staring at the sleeping bags. “It disappeared.”

   “What disappeared?” Mrs. Beakly asked.

   Uncle Scrooge paused at the door and sighed. “Shadows, Mrs. Beakly. Lena’s throwin’ up shadows.”

Chapter Text

   All Lena did was shiver. The hand in Webby’s was like ice. Webby watched as Lena’s level breathing stuttered into a harsh gasp, like she’d forgotten how to breathe. It evened out before Webby could move.

   “Webby.”

   Webby blinked and wondered how long Granny had been in front of her. “Yes?”

   “We need to call Lena’s parents,” Granny said. “Do you know their number?”

   Webby slowly shook her head. “I don’t think her parents are around. She’s never talked about them, just an aunt sometimes.”

   “Alright, her aunt’s number?”

   “I don’t know,” Webby said. 

   “Where does she live, then? We can go there and let her aunt know.”

   Webby opened her mouth, then hesitated. She frowned. She hadn’t really thought about it before, but where did Lena live?

   “I… I don’t know.”

   Granny raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been friends for months, and you don’t know where she lives?”

   Webby shook her head. “We called each other to meet up when we wanted to hang out, and I never went to her place. I’ve never seen her even around a house… she goes to that old L’Orange stage down at the beach a lot, though. Maybe she lives around there?”

   Granny rubbed her chin in thought. “Perhaps.”

   Webby perked up. “Hey, I know how to find her aunt’s number!”

   Webby left Lena long enough to grab her friend’s backpack and drag it back. She hesitated to search through Lena’s possessions, then decided Lena would understand. She dug out Lena’s phone and turned it on.

   “Aw,” Webby said when she saw the wallpaper: a picture Webby had taken of her and Lena on a previous sleepover. “I thought she had deleted this one.”

   In the picture, Lena was half-asleep and still in her PJ’s. Her toothbrush was poking out of her beak, and she was half turned toward the camera. Webby’s grinning face took up the bottom half of the picture.

   Webby shook herself. Grateful Lena didn’t lock her phone -Webby felt slightly better since she didn’t have to actually break into it- Webby quickly pulled up Lena’s contacts. She blinked.

   “She’s only got one number… and it’s mine,” Webby said.

   That wasn’t normal, right? Webby had over two dozen contacts in her phone, and she hadn’t even left the mansion until the Duck triplets had arrived. How could Lena have only one?

   “That is a bit strange,” Granny said. 

   “Maybe she hasn’t needed to keep many numbers in her phone because she’s memorized them?” Webby suggested. “But now how can we tell her aunt?”

   “I’ll send the boys and Launchpad to check the amphitheater. Maybe they’ll notice something to lead us to where she lives”

   Granny left, closing the door quietly behind her. Webby watched her go, then returned her focus on Lena. She gasped when she saw her friend’s eyes were open.

   “Lena, you’re awake!” Webby said, smiling.

   Lena’s eyes flickered around. “Wh-where…?”

   “You’re in my room,” Webby explained. “You kind of passed out on us down in the other bin. Do you remember? Let me tell Granny-”

   Webby was halted from standing when Lena’s hand grabbed her wrist. She looked down and was startled by the intensity in Lena’s eyes. The gray-tinted sclera did nothing to help the surprise.

   “Web-bby, l-listen-en,” Lena said, words stumbling as she shivered. “A-at the L-L’Orange, un-nder-t the s-stage. B-book-k. E-exp-p-plains ever-rything.”

   “A book under the stage explaining everything, got it,” Webby repeated.

   Lena’s expression twisted. “S-sorry.”

   “Sorry for what?”

   “D-don’t be-e m-m-m-”

   Lena jerked, then started to choke again. Her hand fell from Webby’s wrist, going to her throat as she writhed.

   “Granny!” Webby yelled, running for the door.

   A mass of black surged across the floor and shot up to cover the door. Webby skidded to a halt as the mass -shadows?- formed a vague duck shape. Glowing red eyes appeared, glaring down at her.

   “You! Leave Lena alone!” 

   Webby snatched a flashlight from the floor and shined it on the shadow. At the same time, the door was flung open.

   When the door slammed into the wall, shadows briefly spread, as if the shadow had gotten pancaked between the door and wall. In the doorway, Dewey squinted in the light.

   “Webby?” Dewey raised a hand to shield his eyes. “What’s going on?”

   Webby moved her light from Dewey and raced to peer behind the door. The only shadows she saw belonged there and vanished under the beam of the flashlight. Webby turned back to Lena, who now laid quietly. 

   “What happened?” Granny asked. “Webby, is everything alright?”

   Webby shook her head and turned. Granny had joined Dewey in the doorway.

   “I think I saw what is hurting Lena,” Webby said. “Lena woke up for a little bit and was telling me about a book. But then she started choking again and, when I tried to get you, this big shadow came out of nowhere!”

   Granny’s expression hardened. “If the shadows are alive…  What did Lena tell you about the book?”

   “She said it was under the stage,” Webby relayed. “She said it explained everything? Granny, do you think Lena knew she was sick?”

   “I don’t know.” Granny shook her head. “If a shadow attacking Lena appeared outside her body to stop you… this isn’t just a run-of-the-mill curse.”

   “That’s a thing?” Dewey asked.

   “And it’s nothing Scrooge keeps in his other bin,” Granny went on. “Dewey, you and your brothers get that book. Be quick, and come straight back. Webby, stay with Lena while I get Mr. McDuck. Get as many lights as you can on in here.”

   “Will that help?” Webby asked, heading to the attic for more lights as Dewey ran off. 

   “I hope so,” was all Granny said.

   Not long after, the triplets arrived at the L’Orange theater with Launchpad. They quickly spread out to search. Even Louie was on his hands and knees on the dirty stage once Dewey had explained what he knew.

   “Why would a stage even have a trapdoor?” Louie still complained.

   “Actors used the trapdoor to get under the stage, especially when a play called for a dramatic exit,” Huey readily explained.

   “Oh, a hole in the floor. Exciting,” Louie dead-panned.

   “Ah, here!” Huey yelped.

   Dewey turned. Huey was standing defensively, an opening right in front of him. Dewey ran over and took one glance at the darkness before pulling off his backpack. He whipped out a flashlight.

   “Oh, thanks, Dewey,” Huey said, taking the flashlight to peer into the hole.

   “Since when are you the prepared triplet?” Louie asked.

   “Since I discovered we might be fighting shadows,” Dewey responded. He took out another flashlight.

   “Oh, good point.”

   “It doesn’t go far,” Huey reported. “Follow me!”

   “Since you’re volunteering to go first into the dark, mysterious hole, why not?” Louie said blandly.

   Dewey glanced at his younger sibling. He sounded nonchalant, but Dewey thought he looked tense. Dewey shrugged at him, then jumped after Huey.

   The triplets filed down the ladder Huey found under the trapdoor. They climbed a short way before coming to a short hall, which led to stairs.

   “Hello?” Huey called.

   The stairway quickly opened into a room. Dewey swung his flashlight around, seeing a bed and table across the room. Near the entrance was a small fridge. There were a few rugs and chairs. Knicknacks ranging from a lava lamp to an unidentifiable skull were scattered around the room.

   “Does Lena live here?” Huey wondered.

   Louie made a vaguely disgusted sound. “No wonder she’s always sleeping at our place.”

   “I think it’s nice!” Dewey declared, picking up a glowing, palm-sized stone. He went to put it down, but the stone was sticking to his feathers. “Slightly less nice. Uh, guys?”

   “Stop messing around, Dewey,” Huey said. He swept his light along the walls. “Ah, there’s the light switch.”

   Huey flicked the switch. A deep purple light filled the room, giving the space an even more eerie feel.

   “Nope,” Huey said, turning the blacklight back off. “Let’s just find the book, okay?”

   Dewey flicked his hand, finally causing the stone to release him. He winced as it bounced across the floor and rolled under the bed. He ran after it, afraid of damaging Lena’s glowing, sticky rock. He reached under the bed and felt around.

   Instead of a rock, though, his hand found something flat and smooth. He grabbed it and pulled it out, shining his light on it.

   “Hey, I think this is it!” Dewey said.

   “How do you know this is the right book?” Huey asked.

   Louie turned and shrugged. “I don’t see any other books around her. Open it up.”

   Dewey opened the cover and read, “‘Property of Lena DeSpell. Hands off. That means you.’” Dewey looked at his brothers. “I think it’s a journal.”

   “So we probably shouldn’t read it,” Huey said, reaching for the journal.

   “No, wait.” Dewey turned the page. “Webby thinks whatever is wrong with Lena was going on before tonight. If that’s true, maybe Lena wrote about it.”

   Dewey flipped through the book. It seemed to be mostly random bits about Lena’s day, with the occasional mention of artifacts and her Aunt Magica.

   “Wait, her aunt’s name is Magica?” Huey asked. “Why does that sound familiar?”

   “Lena’s probably said it,” Louie said.

   Dewey turned another page. This time, he found a poem written in large letters. Doodles of bones, lightning, coins, and necklaces filled the margins. A sketch of a dark form with red eyes -the only color in the journal Dewey had seen- dominated the opposite page. He started to turn the page to cover up the dark figure.

   “Wait,” Huey said.

   The eldest triplet snatched the journal. He held it close to his face and scanned the poem with narrowed eyes. His eyes widened as they raced back to the top to start again. He closed the journal with a snap.

   “We need to get back to the mansion,” Huey said softly, then turned and raced for the steps.

   “What, why?” Louie asked as he and Dewey followed.

   Huey glanced over his shoulder. “Because Uncle Scrooge is in danger!” 

Chapter Text

   “There we go!” Webby stepped back. “I’d like to see a shadow get through this!”

   Webby had all the lights on in her room and three desk lamps surrounding Lena. Nearly a dozen flashlights -spares for the flashlights stashed throughout the mansion- prevented shadows on the walls or floor. Her glowing rocks surrounded Lena’s nest in the middle of the floor.

   Webby wished she had a shadow sword or dagger. She knew Scrooge had shadow weapons someplace from the time he fought Magica and her shadow army fifteen years before, and wondered where he stored them.

   Work done, Webby sat on the floor beside Lena and took her hand. It felt warmer. Webby hoped it wasn’t just her imagination.

   “Scrooge will be here soon,” Webby said to fill the silence. “He’ll know how to fix this curse.”

   Lena shuddered. She writhed and coughed, flecking her beak with black. Webby wiped Lena’s beak then tossed the handkerchief under one of desk lamps, where the black flecks faded away.

   Webby fiddled with her shirt. For the dozeneth time, she wished Lena’s issue was something she could help fight. Lena shouldn’t have to save herself. Webby hoped her efforts were helping, though.

   “No,” Lena moaned, startling Webby.

   “Lena?”

   Lena’s eyes clenched. She turned onto her side, breath getting stuttery and weird again. 

   “Oh, Lena, just hang in there,” Webby pleaded, looking around for more lights. 

   “No… no…” Lena moaned. “W-won’t… let…”

   Webby dodged to the side when Lena gagged, but nothing came out. Lena continued to dry-heave, while Webby knelt uncertainly beside her friend. Webby rubbed Lena’s back, remembering Granny doing the same when she was sick.

   Lena jerked, then threw up a huge glob of shadow. Lena’s eyes snapped open, normal once again. She scrambled backward from the shadows, dragging Webby with her.

   “Lena, what-”

   Webby noticed the strings of shadow going from Lena’s mouth to the glob on the floor. All the light did nothing to the shadow… unless Webby counted it beginning to writhe.

   “Webby, you have to get out!” Lena ordered, free hand pointing toward the door. She didn’t seem to realize she was still holding onto Webby, her sweaty fingers almost painfully tight on Webby’s wrist. “I can’t-”

   The shadows raced across the floor to Lena, who froze when they reached her. She shook her head and blinked. Her eyes darkened slightly.

   “Lena?” Webby said cautiously.

    Slam!

   Both young ducks jumped and turned. Granny stood at the door, fists clenched. Her eyes scanned the room, landing on Lena and hardening.

   “Step away from my granddaughter,” Granny ordered harshly.

   Lena jerked her hands away from Webby and slowly rose to step back. “Mrs. Beakly, I’m so-”

   “Webby, get over here,” Granny interrupted.

   Webby obeyed Granny out of habit, though her gaze stayed on Lena. Her friend curled her arms around herself, eyeing Granny like she might strike her.

   “What’s wrong, Granny?” Webby asked, avoiding Granny’s efforts to herd Webby behind her. 

   “The boys just called,” Granny said, not taking her eyes off Lena. “They found the book.”

   For some reason, Lena grinned. “That didn’t take as long as I- gack! ”

   Lena gagged and choked. Webby tried to run to her, but Granny scooped her up.

   “Granny, she needs help!” Webby pleaded.

   “N-no, Web-bby,” Lena said, wiping her beak. “I-it’s too l-late f-for m-me.”

   “I don’t understand,” Webby said, looking at her grandmother. “What’s wrong with Lena?”

   “That isn’t Lena,” Granny said, tone falling as she finally looked at Webby. Her eyes were sad. “There never was a Lena.”

   “Wh-what? You’re wr-rong!” Lena protested. “I-I’m Len-na!”

   “No.” Granny’s expression hardened. “You’re a monster.”

   Lena flinched, as though the words had been a physical blow. An odd expression crossed her face, a mixture of sadness, anger, and resignation. She dropped her head.

   “That’s what she said you’d say,” Lena whispered, voice flat and steady. 

   Lena lifted her head, and Webby flinched back at the sneer that twisted her beak. In a flash, her eyes turned pitch black.

   “Lena!” Webby screamed.

   “There is no Lena,” Lena said, voice fake-sweet and mocking and cruel and not hers . “Only shadows.”

   Lena lunged.

   “According to the journal entries, Lena is a spy left behind by Magica to take out Scrooge and the whole McDuck clan,” Huey explained as Launchpad raced recklessly toward the mansion. “Lena is a sentient shadow, brought to life by the remnants of Magica’s magic.”

   “Who’s Magica?” Dewey asked.

   “An evil sorceress that Uncle Scrooge defeated fifteen years ago,” Huey said. “I knew I’d heard the name before, but I didn’t remember where until I read Lena’s journal entry about the day she was ‘born.’ Uncle Scrooge trapped Magica somewhere -nobody knows where- but Magica still managed to make Lena. She must have spent the last fifteen years trying to get to Uncle Scrooge!”

    “And we let her right into the mansion!” Dewey exclaimed, slapping a hand to his face.

   “Hey, that was all Webby.”

   Dewey and Huey glared at Louie. The youngest triplet shrugged.

   “I just want to make it clear, for the record, that we had nothing to do with this.”

   A screech of brakes saved the two elder siblings from responding. Dewey was thrown against his seatbelt as the limo slammed to a halt against the fountain in front of the mansion.

   “We’re coming, Mr. McDee!” Launchpad yelled, leaping from the driver’s seat.

   Dewey unbuckled himself and crawled to the front of the limo to turn it off. He stood and turned back to his brothers slowly getting out of the car. They didn’t ride with Launchpad as much, and were still getting used to his methods of stopping.

    “Come on, guys! Let’s go catch ourselves a shadow!” Dewey cried.

   Huey threw his arms up with an enthusiastic yell. Louie just looked like he’d rather not, but still followed.

   Dewey led the charge into the mansion. The siblings ground to a halt in the foyer. Launchpad was gone -no surprise there. Luckily, the house still looked normal.

   “Webby’s room first?” Dewey guessed.

   “It’s where Lena was when we left,” Huey said. “But, how do we fight a shadow?”

   “With these!”

   Dewey spun with a defensive yell, then relaxed when he saw it was just Uncle Scrooge. The older duck had an armload of weapons, which he dumped on the floor. The weapons were all the same charcoal black in color, and had silver highlights on the handles and sheaths. 

   “Shadow blades!” Uncle explained. 

   “Cool!”

   Dewey snatched up a belt with a pair of small sheaths attached. He buckled it around his waist and unsheathed one of the long daggers. The blade was a deep black in color, but somehow semi-transparent.

   “Is it really a good idea to give Dewey daggers?” Huey asked as Louie quickly chose a scythe-like blade.

   “Nonsense, Dewey can handle a blade,” Uncle Scrooge said.

   Dewey beamed at him and unsheathed the second blade. He dropped into an offensive stance, glaring at the wall and silently daring any shadows to attack.

   “Besides.” Uncle Scrooge unsheathed his own sword and sliced through his own arm?! “These blades cannea touch mortals.”

   Dewey reminded himself to breathe. He sheathed one dagger to poke at the other blade. Sure enough, his finger passed right through the dark blade. The only thing he felt was a slight chilling sensation.

   Huey eyed the final weapon: a mace as big as him. Dewey thought he’d just leave it, but a determined frown crossed his face. Huey grabbed the handle and, with a groan of effort, heaved the mace up against his shoulder.

   And promptly tipped over.

   Dewey winced. “Huey?”

   “Go on!” Huey said, staring at the ceiling. “I’ll catch up!”

   Dewey bolted up the stairs, turning left at the top in the direction of Webby’s room. A loud crash from behind made him jump and spin around.

   Down the opposite end of the hall, Mrs. Beakly was sitting against the wall. She stood, rubbing the back of her head and scowling at something out of sight.

   “Mrs. Beakly!” Dewey yelped, pointing when Uncle Scrooge poked his head into sight.

   “Get the boys out of here!” Mrs. Beakly yelled. 

   She ducked to avoid a spear, then yanked it out of the wall and hurtled it the way it had come. Dewey ran toward her, dodging Uncle Scrooge’s hands and slid beside Mrs. Beakly, drawing his daggers as he did. The daggers lowered almost immediately at the sight confronting him.

   Lena stood halfway down the hall. Her eyes were black as night and there was an evil grin on her beak. Her sweater was torn, revealing a glowing amulet. Shadows swirled around one hand and the other hand glowed purple.

   “Wh-what is that?” Dewey asked shakily as Uncle Scrooge joined them.

   Uncle Scrooge only drew his sword.

   “Scroogie, darling,” Lena said in a voice that wasn’t hers. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

   ...Dewey was slightly disturbed by the flamboyant wave of Lena’s hand. Not because of the way shadows swirled with her fingers, but because that was not something Lena would ever do.

   “‘Tis a fittin’ greetin’ for a thief,” Uncle Scrooge said, eyes narrowed and voice surprisingly light.

   Magica -Dewey was just… going to call her that now- gasped and put her shadowed hand to her chest. “I’m the thief? You stole, well, me! Now look at me!”

   “Ah think a wee bairn’s form suits yew just fine,” Uncle Scrooge said, grinning.

   Magica was silent for a moment, then gave an indignant screech when she caught on. Dewey leaned closer to Mrs. Beakly.

   “Where’s Webby?” Dewey whispered.

   “I’m not sure,” Mrs. Beakly murmured back. “I told her to find you, and she ran off. She could be anywhere.”

   That was for sure. Webby was hard to track, even when their lives weren’t in danger. She was probably watching from the ducts as they spoke, or getting the shadow mace from Huey, or planning some elaborate-

   “Lena, stop!”

   Or she could be standing behind Magica, unarmed and yelling at the top of her lungs.

   Webby knew she was supposed to find Scrooge and the boys to help Granny. She knew she couldn’t touch Lena in her current state, as she had no shadow weapons. She knew… she just knew she had to help her best friend.

   “This isn’t you!” Webby cried, trying to not flinch when black eyes turned to her. “You aren’t evil!”

   “Webby, get outta here!” Scrooge yelled.

   “We can fix this,” Webby went on. “Please, just stop! I don’t want to fight you! You’re my best friend!”

   Lena stilled. The shadows retreated slightly. Lena straightened and took a step closer. Her eyes started to clear.

   “Pink…” Lena murmured in her regular voice.

   Then one of Lena’s hands whipped forward and a bolt of energy flew at Webby.

   Pure instinct sent Webby leaping out of the way. She vaulted off the wall and landed in a crouch close to Lena.

   “You foolish little girl,” Lena sneered.

   Webby resisted the urge to close her eyes, as if the act could block out the malicious voice coming from Lena’s beak. She forced herself to look at darkening eyes and the smirk on Lena’s beak.

   “It was real… wasn’t it?” Webby whispered.

   “Dense, too,” Lena said, snatching Webby up by the back of her shirt.

   “Put her down!”

   Granny’s yell was followed by a shriek from Lena. Webby was spun quickly, shadows curling and snapping around her. She reached out, finding something solid with one hand before it slid off, leaving slick and cold liquid in her hand. A blur of motion, then Webby felt herself hurtled through the air. She slammed into something hard and slid upside-down to the floor.

   “Webby!” Dewey yelped.

   Dewey and Louie turned Webby upright. Webby blinked and stared past Granny and Scrooge standing defensively between the kids and Lena.

   Lena formed a crackling whip of energy and snapped it at the adults, forcing them to dodge away. A slice in her side dribbled liquid like blood, but pitch black.

   Webby looked at the burns Lena’s whip left on the wall. At Dewey’s smoking feathers from where the whip had gotten too close. At Granny holding Louie’s scythe, ignoring the blood slowly staining her sleeve. Finally, at the smear of icy black liquid on her own palm.

   Webby closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened her eyes, vision blurring through tears she shouldn’t shed for a friend she’d never even had.

   “Granny was right,” Webby whispered. The battle paused, allowing her next words to fill the brief silence. “You’re a monster.”

Chapter Text

   Lena hesitated for a second. Then her eyes narrowed and red pupils appeared. Black swirled around both hands.

   “Go, go!” Scrooge yelled, shoving the kids.

   The group dove out of the hall, seconds before a powerful blast of shadows tore through the wall. Webby, tugged along by Dewey, ran numbly for a few seconds before she shook herself.

   “I’m okay,” she told Dewey.

   Dewey glanced at her. “Are you sure?”

   “No,” Webby said honestly.

   “We need room t’maneuver!” Scrooge said, unaware of Webby’s emotional turmoil. 

   “To the foyer!” Louie said. “Then outside, let Magica have the mansion!”

   “She isnea here for the mansion,” Scrooge said. “She’s here for mah number one dime!”

   “ What is up with that dime?!” Louie exclaimed.

   “It’s where ah trapped Magica,” Scrooge said.

   “Oh,” said all the kids.

   The group raced into the foyer, where Huey was struggling with an oversized mace in the middle of the room.

   “Hey, guys,” Huey said, looking up from the mace. “Where’s-”

   There was a loud shriek from behind. Webby spun as Lena burst into view.

   “Lena?!” Huey yelped.

   “Not anymore,” Dewey muttered.

   “Spread out and surround’er!” Scrooge said. “Her magic will be weak now!”

   Webby rolled under Lena’s shadow whip, leaping up beside Dewey. He offered her a dagger. Webby took it, but it hung loose in her hands.

   “Okay, here’s the plan,” Dewey started, but was batted away by shadows before he could get any further.

   Webby jumped upon suddenly finding Lena in front of her. She raised the dagger with both hands, shaking so hard she could barely hold the weapon.

   “Oh, now, this is just pathetic,” Lena sneered. 

   Webby found herself grateful that Lena’s voice had changed to what she now realized to be Magica’s. Because she didn’t think she would have been able to keep it together otherwise.

   “I came here looking for a fight,” Lena went on. She casually slapped Granny away with shadows. “But if this is the best you can do…”

   There was a wild war cry from behind Lena, then Lena stumbled forward. She twisted around, revealing Huey lifting the mace from his strike.

   “Oh, that’s just-” Lena was interrupted by Huey smashing the mace against her beak. She nasally finished, “Droll.”

   “How could you?!” Huey demanded, slamming the mace into Lena’s side. “We trusted you!” Jabbed her in the stomach. “We were your friends!” Bashed her foot. “You betrayed Webby!”

   This time, Lena caught the mace. Despite being bent double from the attack on her stomach and foot, she still lifted the mace and Huey.

   Huey, finding himself dangling off the floor, chuckled uncertainly. Lena carelessly tossed him and the mace aside, knocking over Dewey and Louie as they rushed to their brother’s aid.

   Lena turned and trained black eyes on Webby, who found herself trembling. Her weak, clumsy hold on the dagger did nothing to stop it from slipping between her shaking fingers and to the floor.

   Lena glanced at the fallen dagger, then drew herself up without attacking. Shadows swirled under her feet, pushing her up so she was even taller.

   “Get out of here,” Lena said.

   Webby stilled. It was Lena’s voice. Not the cold and mocking of Magica, but Lena’s. Just… what? Tired? Scared? Resigned?

   “Lena?” Webby whispered.

   “There is no Lena!” Lena bellowed, voice changing again. 

   Red pupils flashed into existence, then Webby was batted across the foyer. She hit the wall hard, but rolled onto her hands and knees. She was buzzing with too much relief and joy to feel the pain.

   Their friendship hadn’t been fake! Lena was still in there; Magica had just stolen her body! The darker Lena’s eyes, the less control she had. And if her ruthlessness was any indication, Webby guessed that the red pupils meant Magica had full control.

   Webby eyed the shadows battling Scrooge and Granny. She’d never seen them around Lena in the past and Lena had been throwing up shadows before this all started. Maybe…

   Webby didn’t let herself think. She snatched up the dagger and leaped with a yell. She sliced through a shadow tendril, causing Lena to jerk back with a shriek. Webby rolled to her feet in front of Granny.

   “Focus on the shadows, not Lena,” Webby said. “Lena is in there, we just have to separate her from Magica.”

   “That’s impossible, lass,” Scrooge said, staggering to his feet. “Magica is Lena, and Lena is Magica. They’re the same!”

   “No.” Webby glared into Lena’s black eyes. “You aren’t the same. I don’t know what Magica did to you, but-”

   “She made me!” Lena -the real Lena- snapped. “I’m nothing but her shadow and magic.”

   “No,” Webby said again. “You’re more than that. You’re Lena . The rebellious teenager who doesn’t follow the rules. The troublemaker that’s always getting me out of trouble. You’re fun and wild and… and, you’re my best friend!”

   A snarl crossed Lena’s beak. She lunged forward. Webby dodged one way while Granny and Scrooge went the other. Webby heard a crackle and threw herself to the floor. A bolt of energy flew over her head. She bounced back up and spun.

   Lena’s expression was twisted, pained. Behind her, Scrooge and Granny hesitated. The boys, finally untangled, froze where they stood.

   “Please, Lena, let us help,” Webby said, stepping forward.

   Lena shook her head and smirked, even while her eyes lightened slightly. “You just don’t get it, Webby. I’m the bad guy. You know how this goes. Aunt Magica, can I?”

   Webby’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”

   A flick of Lena’s hand, then Webby was batted to the floor. Another flick, and the boys were wrapped up in a rug. Shadows coiled up around Scrooge and Granny as they started forward, pinning them where they stood.

   Lena strolled over to the adults and studied them. Scrooge writhed uselessly, sputtering out a ramble of insults Webby couldn’t untangle.

   Lena spun on her heel. “Too bad I left my diamond dagger in the other bin. What else can I use to cut that string?”

   “L-Lena?” Webby said, sitting up. She scooted backward on her butt, closer to Granny. “Don’t do this, please!”

   Lena crouched and picked up Webby’s fallen dagger. She glanced at Webby. The shadows had retreated, save the ones holding Granny and the McDucks. If it wasn’t for the dark eyes, Webby wouldn’t have been able to see anything but Lena betraying her again.

   “Let us help!” Webby pleaded, starting forward.

    Shadows curled around Webby’s legs, halting her. She thrashed, but couldn’t escape the shadow’s iron grip. 

   “You can’t help me, Pink,” Lena said with an odd grin.

   Scrooge caught sight of the dagger. “Yew might as well drop the dagger, Magica. Yew’re more likely tah hurt yewrself. It cannea hurt me or the string.”

   Lena ignored him, meeting Webby’s eyes. Her odd grin widened. Lena blinked, eyes clearing in the split-second it took to flip the dagger. 

   “I know.”

   And Lena plunged the blade into her own chest.