Chapter Text
They were maybe a hundred feet underground, but Huey felt like he was on top of the world.
After weeks of basically being hunted, he’d ended up in a castle. It still shocked him every time he woke up, half expecting to be somewhere else. It was almost too good to be true, having a roof over their heads and a soft bed to sleep in and fresh food to eat. Consistent food, and plenty of it. Huey would never take it for granted again, especially with Louie’s wide eyes every time he was given his plate.
It had only been a few days since their arrival, mostly spent sleeping and eating and answering any questions Scrooge asked them. The king was a little awkward, and seemed unsure of how to act, but he was obviously trying, and Huey could think of no greater gift than that. He’d spoken more to Scrooge in less than a week than he’d spoken to Magica in his whole life. It was bizarre, but not unwelcome.
Soon enough, they were moved into a new room with a newly constructed triple bunk bed. Dewey had initially called the top bunk, but then he’d seen the blue sheets on the middle one and changed his mind. Louie had said that he didn’t feel like having to literally climb into bed, and so Huey ended up with the top bunk.
Also in their new room was a large dresser with six drawers, which was generous given that they had absolutely nothing to put in them. Louie had said as much, in that slightly sarcastic tone that he got when he was pretending not to care. Scrooge had waved it off, and the next day they’d been given brand new clothes crafted carefully by some talented member of the castle staff.
All of their old clothes were washed, mended, and returned to them as well. Louie wore his signature cloak religiously, even though he’d been given new ones. Huey didn’t blame him; he himself wore vests every day, although he’d branched out a bit with the colors. Ss long as part of him was red, he was content. Dewey had pretty much stayed the same, although he carried his sword around less and less each day.
Their room had a window, and dark curtains hung in front of it. The view was amazing, and Huey found himself staring out of it at night, thinking of when he used to do the same back when he lived with Magica. Things were different now, though; he wasn’t so lonely anymore. How could he be, with Dewey’s constant shifting and kicking in his sleep, and with Louie’s quiet snoring? It made him smile until his cheeks hurt, until his chest ached with overflowing happiness. He’d been getting the best sleep he’d ever gotten, recently, even with the occasional nightmare, and even when one or both of his brothers would show up in his bed at night. It was peaceful.
It was early morning one day about a week into their stay at the castle, and Huey ran into Lena on his way back from the bathroom. He hadn’t seen much of her, but that wasn’t exactly a new development. It was a big castle, just like the big empty house that they’d both grown up in, and it was easy to avoid each other even if they didn’t mean to.
Anyway, he actually did run into her, literally, and he nearly fell over. Not his proudest moment, and yet certainly not his most embarrassing, either.
“Lena!” Huey exclaimed in surprise, just barely managing to keep his feet under him. Lena’s expression landed somewhere between amused and distantly shocked.
“Long time, no see, huh?” She shifted to lean against the wall casually. “Been busy?”
“Oh, uh, not really? I mean, kind of, but also I sleep a lot,” Huey said quickly, mentally cursing his rambling and inability to translate thoughts into understandable speech.
Lena hummed a little awkwardly, and Huey laughed nervously.
“I don’t— I don’t think that I ever thanked you, for the whole ‘warning me of my kidnapping’ thing,” Huey said, when it became clear that she wasn’t going to say anything. “So thanks, even though I messed it all up. Even made it easier, probably.”
“It…wasn’t right for her to do that,” Lena said quietly, eyes shifting like she thought Magica might pop out at any moment. “You didn’t deserve it. You didn’t even know why you were so important, and I didn’t know how to tell you. Didn’t know if I should.”
“I don’t blame you for not telling me,” Huey assured her. “I’m not even sure what I would’ve done, if you did. Nothing good or reasonable, I’m guessing.”
Lena let out a soft laugh at that, tension subtly melting out of her shoulders.
“Magica has that effect, I guess,” Lena said, humor in her voice.
“Just— unreasonableness by proximity.”
“That must be why I’m so messed up.”
Huey blinked, taken aback by the slight self-deprecating tone and the smirk on her face. Huey had been lonely growing up, achingly so, but so had Lena, in a more tired and hopeless sort of way. She’d been worked to the bone for most of her life, and Magica cared no more for her than she had for Huey. They were only as good as what they could do for her. Nothing more than tools.
“It’ll wear off soon, now that she’s gone,” Huey said, softer than before, and Lena shrugged.
“Maybe,” she said, and she gave him a small, grateful smile.
Belatedly, something occurred to him.
“Where is Magica, anyway? What happened to her?” Huey asked, wondering how he hadn’t thought to ask before now.
“Guards caught her – which you knew – and they also got all the other idiots who’d been listening to her,” Lena told him, eyes sparkling with mischief. “They were taken to a prison, though I don’t know exactly where. And frankly, I don’t care, as long as they’re gone.”
“They really caught them all?”
“Yeah.” Lena paused, smirking vindictively. “They were carted away in wagons a few days ago.”
Huey couldn’t quite keep from smiling, the memories of his own captivity that he’d spent stuck in a wagon coming to the forefront of his mind. What a fitting punishment. He couldn’t wait to tell Dewey and Louie.
“Poetic justice,” Huey remarked, unapologetically satisfied.
Lena nodded, sudden fire in her eyes as she took in Huey’s bandaged and bruised body.
“I hope they rot,” Lena said harshly.
And Huey could hardly disagree.
A week later, they were allowed back out of the cavern for the first time since they’d arrived. They went with the accompaniment of Duckworth and Mrs. Beakley, of course, though they kept a respectful distance to give them some space.
Webby and Lena met up with them in the hallway, the former bouncing excitedly in place and the latter not quite managing to hide a smile. The adults regarded them fondly as they walked up several flights of stairs, chattering happily the whole way up.
They were in the tower, Huey realized, the one he’d seen that went past the ceiling of the cavern and broke through the surface. They went up for quite some time; old aches and pains had returned with vengeance by the time they reached the top. Louie had been groaning since the second flight, but Huey preferred to internalize his annoyance. Dewey talked with Webby the whole way up, his excitement never wavering.
They eventually reached a single lonely door at the top, and they tumbled through it hastily, tired of being surrounded by stone walls. Huey took a deep breath of the cool, fresh air, closing his eyes and relishing the faint wind he could feel drifting across his face.
When he opened his eyes, he knew immediately that they were on the island they’d seen all those days ago. Really, it was more of a column of land, and it was largely featureless beyond the very top of the tower that stuck out of the ground, and the sparse patches of moss and grass peeking up beneath rock and stone. Everything was covered in a thick layer of fog, so he couldn’t even see the edge of the island, which worried him. They’d done enough falling, in Huey’s humble opinion.
Duckworth walked past them all, a confidence in his stride that Huey tentatively placed his faith in. Dewey, unable to stand still for any longer, set off quickly after Duckworth, grabbing Huey’s arm to drag him along beside him. Huey pretended to be annoyed, but he could hardly fault Dewey for being excited. Louie’s soft laughter could be heard slightly behind them, and Huey felt a smile grow on his face without his consent.
Rather abruptly, a large shadow of a shape emerged from the fog in front of them, a huge rectangle extending high into the sky. Huey craned his neck to look at it, trying to guess at its purpose and failing. Duckworth called out to a guard standing near the shape, and as he got closer, he could see that the rectangle was made of solid wood and metal braces. Huey’s jaw dropped and he realized what its purpose was.
The guard moved closer to the wood and grabbed the handle of a crank, beginning to spin it steadily. The wood thing groaned, slowly beginning to tip away from them, towards the canyon beyond the edge of the cliff. Huey could only watch in awed silence as Dewey clutched at his arm and Webby squealed from somewhere on his right.
The bridge – because what else could it be – continued in its gentle descent until it sloped slightly downward, at which point it came to a stop with a jolt that Huey felt in the soles of his webbed feet. The figurative dust settled.
“Watch your step,” said the guard at the crank, stepping back and taking a seat at a nearby bench.
“Thank you, Benny,” Duckworth replied, stepping onto the wooden platform and waving the group of gaping children along. Mystified, they followed him.
It was nerve-wracking, walking over an abyss. Huey’s knees felt weak, hearing the occasional creak of wood. He wondered what caused bridges to collapse when they did, wondered if there was ever any sort of warning. He tried to push the negative thoughts out of his head, but it was difficult when for so long he’d always been waiting for the next bad thing to happen.
About halfway across, the fog cleared up enough that Huey could see the other side, and it was immediately apparent to anyone with eyesight that there had been a battle. If the marks of struggle scored into the earth weren’t enough, then the blackened remains of a once beautiful forest was plenty.
Huey stared, and for a moment he wondered how all his life choices had led him here, to this. Lena whistled lowly, and Huey blinked several times in quick succession. Dewey laughed sheepishly.
They arrived at the other side without issue, and Huey let out the breath he’d been holding, turning to look back the way they came. The bridge sloped upwards toward the island, fading into the fog as it went.
“Things would’ve been a lot easier,” Louie said, “if that had been there all along.”
“Agreed,” said Huey, as the bridge began to lift off the ground and return to its previous position.
“Oh, come on. Cliff jumping was way more exciting,” Dewey said with a grin, coming up between them and slinging an arm across each of their shoulders.
“Not when you get tackled off the edge by your brother,” Louie pointed out with a playful glare.
“I,” Dewey began importantly, letting go of Huey in order to poke at Louie’s forehead, “saved your life.”
“You gotta stop doing that.”
“Never,” Dewey said lightly, like a vow and a promise, and that was that.
After traipsing through ash and foliage for the better part of an hour, their little group finally arrived at the edge of the village. It was the same village they’d escaped from all those nights ago, and they were standing in pretty much the same spot where they’d left it behind.
Huey and his brothers stood in contemplative silence, taking in the familiar area. It was strange how places could stir up emotions with ease, and how simply looking at the place could bring back the echoes of the emotions they’d been feeling last time they were there.
They passed by the spot where Dewey had fought Don Karnage, and Huey shared a look with his brothers, one that was half amusement and half relief that it was all over. Dewey was slyly looking around for the frying pan, but it was nowhere to be found. Huey rolled his eyes at Dewey’s pout, patting him on the shoulder as he passed.
The village turned out to be a lot less scary during the day, and when no one was chasing after them. Residents and travelers alike wandered around on the streets, stopping at booths and stores and letting their children run around and play. It was nice, being surrounded by normal life, even if it was overwhelming at times. It was proof that the world wasn’t all chaos and life-threatening situations.
Somewhere around the center of the village they split up into two groups. Webby gasped at something she’d seen in the distance, grabbing Lena’s hand and dragging her off towards whatever it was. Mrs. Beakley sighed and followed them, sharing a look with Duckworth before she went.
Duckworth cleared his throat to get their attention, and the triplets turned as one to face him. The butler reached into his coat pocket and removed a small pouch, dropping it unceremoniously into Huey’s hands. The contents jingled together, and Huey had a feeling that he knew what it was.
“What’s this for?” Huey asked, shifting the pouch of coins into one hand as he looked up at Duckworth.
“Whatever you want,” Duckworth replied simply. “Your Uncle thought you might want to purchase something, and sent along the funds to do so.”
Dewey was smiling widely when Huey turned to look at him, nudging Louie excitedly with his elbow.
“Come on, come on!” Dewey grabbed each of them by the arm and tugged them along, much like Webby had done with Lena a minute before. “Let’s go look!”
Huey had to admit that it was fun to rush about without the fear of capture. It was still a little strange, because he’d learned to associate villages with the fear of discovery, but it was still good. It was freeing, knowing that they were there because they wanted to be, and that nothing was keeping them there or pushing them away. Duckworth trailed behind them at a respectful distance, mostly doing his own thing.
Without meaning to, they eventually arrived at the sight of Huey’s extreme act of vandalism. The lab was still standing, at least, but it had clearly been through an ordeal. The windows were blown out and partially melted, most of the doors and parts of the roof were charred beyond recognition. Huey suspected that the inside was worse, and a small bit of guilt twisted his stomach. It would’ve bothered him more, if it weren’t for the fact that Scrooge had promised to pay for the damages.
“This – is a historical monument,” Dewey said solemnly – dramatically – as they stood gazing at the wreckage.
“This is my legacy, huh?” Huey replied, a wry smile tugging at his beak.
“There are worse ways to be remembered, I think,” said Louie, “and I, for one, would rather that this happened than the alternative.”
“Fair point,” said Huey, and they moved on, leaving the ruins behind them.
It was a beautiful day, and for the first time in a long time, Huey allowed himself to enjoy it.
After leaving the burned lab behind, they went on a sort of sight-seeing tour, revisiting all of the places where something of note had happened to them. They stopped by the well that Louie had knocked Big Time into, and Dewey performed a rather exaggerated retelling of the event, getting so into character that Huey had to lurch forward and grab him before he threw himself down the well in a fit of theatrical passion. Louie stood back and laughed the whole time, offering no help.
Their next stop was the barn, and all three of them were assaulted by guilt and fear and exhaustion, though they each had their own reasons for feeling that way. They didn’t stay there for long, deciding to move on without speaking a word out loud. Duckworth seemed puzzled, but he didn’t ask any questions.
The last place they visited was the old building where Louie had been kept during his brief capture. They walked in through the front door, and it was almost odd to see the place empty of villains. Louie held his neatly wrapped wrist closer to his chest, and Dewey scowled at the small pile of smoke pellets that Beaks had left behind in the corner. Huey stood stiffly in the middle of the room beneath the single unlit lantern, staring at the window he and Dewey had looked through all those days ago.
“I hate this place,” said Louie vehemently, and Huey and Dewey immediately agreed.
They slammed the door behind them on their way out, and Huey felt the sudden urge to destroy that stupid building with his bare hands. It passed quickly, however, leaving him feeling a bit lost, and he was left with nothing to do but move on.
They eventually ended up back on the main road, surrounded by smiling people and street vendors selling food and supplies. In the distance, Huey could see Webby and Lena watching a juggler with rapt attention. Duckworth stopped to look at something that had caught his eye, waving Huey and his brothers onward, suggesting that they meet up with Mrs. Beakley and the girls.
They continued down the street at a casual pace, in no particular hurry.
“It’s kind of crazy, isn’t it?” Dewey asked suddenly, gazing wonderingly at the sky. “That we made it?”
“I still find it hard to believe,” said Louie, adjusting the collar of his cloak with his good hand. “I was prepared to die violently pretty much the second I got caught trying to break into that stupid wagon.”
“Could you imagine if you’d actually done it before the Beagle Boys got back?” Huey grinned at his brother, a spark in his eyes. “What even would you have done if you’d opened the doors and seen me?”
“Run, probably,” Louie said truthfully, smirking playfully. “And then you would’ve been free and none of this would’ve happened.”
Huey shook his head in false regret. “What a shame.”
“I’m glad that things went the way that they did,” Dewey chimed in, turning and walking slowly backwards so he could face them while he talked. “I think it happened how it was supposed to.”
“Fate and destiny?” Huey asked, a hint of a teasing tone in his voice.
“Maybe!”
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t call it that,” Louie said, and Huey chuckled at the expected response.
“Of course you wouldn’t,” Dewey said, but his eyes were fond. “What would you call it then? How else did we get here?”
Louie snorted. “I dunno. A miracle, maybe?”
Huey regarded his younger brothers with amusement, and was able to pinpoint the exact moment Louie realized that his response – a miracle – was exactly the type of thing that Dewey would latch on to. Louie’s eyes widened, and Dewey broke out into a wide, excited, exceedingly happy smile.
“A miracle it is, then,” said Dewey, as his expression melted into something softer.
They passed by a booth filled to the brim with fresh fruits, and Dewey snatched an apple on his way by, inspecting it with a wry grin before tossing it in Louie’s direction. Louie caught it with his good hand before it could hit the ground, glaring at Dewey even as a smile slid onto his face.
Huey laughed unabashedly – freely – as Dewey turned and bolted down the street, Louie hot on his heels, cloak billowing out dramatically behind him.
He shook his head in a longsuffering sort of way as he went to pay the vendor for the apple.
“Your brothers, I’d imagine?” the vendor – a middle-aged woman with a kind face – asked, tilting her head in Dewey and Louie’s direction.
“Yeah,” Huey replied, and he couldn’t keep the fondness out of his voice – the awe that it was true. “Sorry about them.”
“No worries, honey. I’ve got some siblings of my own.” She took his coins with a soft smile. “Keep them out of trouble, do you?”
“I try.”
“Not always an easy thing to do, is it?” the vendor asked, not seeming to expect an answer, and then she winked at him. “It’s worth it though, wouldn’t you say?”
Huey’s eyes were magnetically drawn down the street, where Dewey was ruffling Louie’s hair and Louie was swatting at his Dewey’s hand. They were both laughing, and Huey could faintly hear it over the noise of the village. His heart was beating loudly and steadily in his chest, finally fueled by something other than fear and aching.
“Yeah,” Huey answered quietly, and he thought that his very being must be overflowing out of him, with how happy he was. “They’re worth it.”
Huey thanked the vendor and pocketed the rest of the coins, turning to catch up to his brothers.
From a few yards away, Dewey caught his gaze and waved as Louie shot him a genuine, honest smile. Huey smiled back – because he couldn’t stop himself and didn’t want to – and like the pieces of a puzzle, or the three parts of a whole medallion, they came together again.