Chapter Text
Newton carefully placed the soccer ball on the grass, looking up at Gosalyn in the goal. Her eyes gleamed as she crouched slightly, hands up, bouncing back and forth slightly. The look she gave him was clear: take the kick when he was ready.
Newton studied the angles, thought things through carefully. He took a deep breath, then took a few steps back. Studied the angles again.
Newton ran forward and struck the ball as hard as he could—with his left foot, not his dominant right. Gosalyn wasn’t expecting this, and moved in the wrong direction; Newton saw the moment she realized what happened and she tried to correct her direct, but over-corrected her movements, instead landing hard on the ground while the ball hit the back of the net.
[GOAL!] Newton signed, striking the index finger of his left hand between the second and third fingers on his right, then lifted both hands in the air to shake back and forth—the sign-language version of applause.
Gosalyn picked herself up off the ground and grinned at him. [Good,] she signed before pulling the ball out of the back of the net.
Newton puffed up with pride, furthering his excitement. The following morning, Newton and Honker would have their first soccer practice, and Newton was ready to play. While waiting for hamburgers to finish cooking on the grill for Family Dinner, Gosalyn and some of the other big kids had taken Newton and Honker into the backyard to play.
Newton turned to Honker and signed, [Your turn!]
Honker looked hesitant, letting out an “Oomph!” as the ball hit them in the chest when Gosalyn lightly tossed it to them. Honker wrapped their arms around the ball, wide-eyed, as Gosalyn resumed her place in the goal. Honker gave Newton a pleading look, but Newton only gave them two thumbs up in encouragement.
As Newton stood back to watch Newton set up for the kick, he heard smatterings of the conversation the other kids were having. He turned to see what they were talking about, but the conversation was moving too fast, and he was having trouble keeping up with who was speaking. Newton frowned and reached up to turn up the volume on his hearing aids, hoping that it would help. It did not, and all he heard was a jumble of pieces of words.
“—and—ed—oll!”
Newton frowned as suddenly all the other kids laughed, but he had no idea what was so funny. He reached over and tugged on Clara’s arm.
[What funny?] Newton asked.
[Tell you later,] Clara signed quickly, even as she spoke aloud to add to the conversation.
Newton huffed and turned back to see if Honker took the kick yet. They had not, and Newton could hear Gosalyn shouting, no doubt encouraging Honker to just take the kick already.
Honker took a few steps back, then a running start.
Newton crossed his fingers and held his breath.
Honker went to kick the ball…
Newton groaned as Honker landed flat on their back, then ran over to his friend.
[OK?] Newton asked as he went to Honker’s side.
Honker looked up at him, clearly embarrassed, tears in their eyes as they got to their feet, not answering Newton—at least, not in sign. Newton’s heart panged, instantly feeling Honker’s embarrassment and disappointment. Well, that wouldn’t do at all.
Newton tapped Honker on the shoulder and signed, [Try again.]
Honker frowned, and opened their mouth and lifted their hands to respond, but then turned to look over their shoulder, looking very relieved. Newton frowned and tapped Honker’s arm again, signing, [What?]
[Dinner’s ready,] Honker responded, looking pleased that they had been saved by the dinner bell.
Newton’s stomach growled and he perked up. Soccer was fun, inventing was great, adventuring was awesome. But food was the way to Newton’s heart.
[Race you!] Newton signed, then took off at a run towards the back door.
Newton entered McDuck Mansion and was instantly bombarded by a cacophony of sounds, forcing him to skid to a stop. There were a lot of voices and other noises, nothing completely distinct and all competing to be heard by Newton’s incredibly limited ability to hear.
Newton was profoundly and bilaterally deaf, and what very little hearing capabilities he had were only through the hearing aids he wore, which amplified sound—usually only giving him cues as to where to direct his attention. Right now, with the volume on high in the enclosed space full of people, it was too loud and it was all sound—too many places to direct his attention. One at a time, Newton took off the hearing aids and lowered the volume, replacing them and carefully listening before determining if they were at a better level. Once that was done, he breathed a sigh of relief—his world was once again much quieter, the way he preferred it—and he went to find his place at the table, his mouth watering when his mother placed a plate in front of him, kissing the top of his head.
Newton began to chow down, drinking in the atmosphere of the table. The meal part of family dinner both was and wasn’t his favorite part of the night. It was his favorite in that he got food—lots and lots of good food—but it was also his least favorite in that he couldn’t keep up and partake in conversation.
He knew that, while his family would gladly interpret for him, that it was hard to eat and interpret at the same time and far too many separate conversations happening to keep up with. Not to mention, too many lips to read.
It was after everyone was finished eating that Newton liked best, when they all just sat around and chatted, when he could partake in conversations. In the meantime, he would just have to be content soaking in the relaxed and happy atmosphere around him. That Newton enjoyed very much.
Newton was good at picking up on emotions based off of body language. His kindergarten teacher back in Goston had even made a special note that she had never seen a student as innately talented at reading body language as Newton. Newton supposed it was some sort of sensory compensation; he didn’t have hearing, but he could sense emotions. Came in handy a lot, especially when people tried to hide that they were upset or trying to lie.
Newton glanced down the table; the only person he was sensing any sort of feeling of discontent was coming from Storkules, for some reason. He seemed to be acting happy, smiling at something Donald said, was easily joining in the conversation around him, and for the most part was happy. There was just something else, something lingering… Something that Storkules was worrying about, something that upset him that he was hiding.
Odd, Newton thought as he bit into his burger. He hoped that it was nothing too serious.
Newton looked down the other side of the table at Honker, who was seated beside Gosalyn, who was talking with them, apparently giving them a pep talk after the failed kick earlier, and Newton felt relieved that Honker’s lingering embarrassment and upset over the ordeal was lessening with whatever Gosalyn was telling them, Honker grinning when Gosalyn affectionately ruffled their hair.
Newton glanced up as he felt a tap on his shoulder, his mother signing, [Want more?]
Newton nodded enthusiastically.
Maria smiled. [More of what?]
[Everything!]
Tonight, the actual meal part of Family Dinner was Newton’s favorite part of Family Dinner.
*****
“Thanks again for covering for Darkwing for a little while tonight,” Drake told Donald at the end of the Family Dinner, as he waved off Launchpad, who was taking Gosalyn and Honker home.
“No problem,” Donald said. “You said you were meeting up with your brother?”
Drake nodded. “Yeah. Campbell and Duclair are in town for the big family dinner Binkie’s hosting tomorrow.”
“Well, I’m glad you two are going to be able to get some time together,” Donald said. “I know how much your relationship has improved over the last year. It’s a lot of big steps for the both of you.”
“Yeah…” Drake said, his voice and eyes trailing off.
Donald frowned. “Something wrong?”
“No, it’s just…” Drake sighed. “When I’ve been communicating with Campbell lately, he’s been acting off. He insisted that it was important that we meet up tonight, and I get the sense he’s got something big he wants to talk about. I just have no idea what it could be.”
“Guess there’s only one way to find out,” Donald said with a shrug, then clapped Drake on the shoulder. “Go see him.”
Drake nodded and pulled out the keys for the Ratcatcher. “And I’ll see you for a trade-off around midnight.”
Twenty minutes later, Drake was walking into the lobby of the hotel that Campbell and Duclair were staying in, grinning when he heard his older brother call out his name and wave him over from the nearby bar.
“Hey, Campbell,” Drake greeted his brother with a wave as Campbell got to his feet, pulling Drake into a hug.
“How you doing, Drake?” Campbell asked.
“Couldn’t be better,” Drake said, sitting on the barstool beside Campbell. He ordered water from the bartender, who hovered nearby as soon as he spotted a new customer, and turned to Campbell. “It’s good to see you. You and Duclair have a good trip from New Quackmore?”
“It was… good,” Campbell said, his voice hesitant. “A little stressful, but good.”
“Oh?” Drake said, brow furrowing. “What happened?”
Campbell took a deep breath, resting his elbow on the bartop. “Okay, Drake, look, there’s a reason I asked to meet with you tonight. You see, Duclair and I have a little… surprise.”
“A surprise?” Drake repeated. Then his eyes widened. “Are you and Duclair expecting?”
He hoped this was the case. Drake knew that Campbell and Duclair had been struggling with fertility for years, and had experienced several miscarriages. They both so desperately wanted a child, and Drake was hopeful that now was finally the time.
“Well…” Campbell said, rubbing the back of his head. “You might say that we are… well, past the point of expecting.”
Drake’s brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”
“Just, well, we were expecting and now we’re not. But in a different way than… before.”
Drake stared at Campbell in disbelief. “Wait. Did you two… have a baby and literally tell no one?”
“Not exactly,” Campbell said. He took a deep breath and began to explain. “A few months ago, Duclair was contacted by a friend of hers from college. She works with Doctors without Borders and was working in Nigeria. This friend was working in a camp for people who had been displaced by conflict in the country, and started treating a woman with a little girl named Daraja. The woman’s husband had died in an accident when her daughter was a baby, and she was very sick herself. She told Duclair’s friend about how she was worried about what would happen to her daughter if she died, as she didn’t have any family to take Daraja in, and made Duclair’s friend promise to find a home for her daughter if she did die.”
Drake’s heart clenched slightly, seeing where this was going. “And this friend… she had to make good on her promise, huh?”
Campbell nodded. “Yeah. She reached out to Duclair, seeing if she might have any leads or suggestions on how to get Daraja adopted. And, well…” Campbell grinned sheepishly. “We found her a home.”
Drake’s eyes widened and a grin spread across his face. “With you and Duclair?”
Campbell nodded, still smiling. “With us.”
“Congratulations!” Drake said, leaning over to hug Campbell. “That’s amazing! When does she arrive here in the States?”
“That’s the thing,” Campbell said. “Things… happened a lot faster than we were expecting. Daraja has been living with us for nearly two months.”
Drake’s jaw dropped. “Wait. You adopted a kid. You’ve been a father for the past two months? Why am I just now hearing about this?”
“Because we really didn’t expect to have Daraja in America so soon, for one thing,” Campbell said. “We thought this was going to be a longer, more drawn out process. And the second thing is, Daraja has been through a lot, and doesn’t understand much English yet, and we were advised that it’d be better to not let her get too overwhelmed with people while she’s still getting to know me and Duclair. I guess it was also a bit selfish, because we wanted Daraja all to ourselves for a while, enjoy figuring out how to be a family together. And, well…” Campbell shrugged. “You know Mom, Dad, and Binkie. They can be…”
Campbell trailed off, and Drake was all too happy to fill in the blank.
“Judgemental?” Drake said flatly. “Bossy? Overwhelmingly toxic? Narcissistic pains in the tuchus?”
“And this is why I wanted to talk to you tonight,” Campbell said, gesturing towards Drake. “Duclair and I need allies, not only for introducing Daraja to everyone else tomorrow, but in the long term.”
“You’ve definitely got that in me, as well as Launchpad and Gosalyn,” Drake assured Campbell. “Tell me more about Daraja. How old is she?”
“Just turned five,” Campbell said. “So Honker’s age. She’s very smart—she’s great with numbers, and very curious. She’s still learning English, but she knows some words and phrases. Her favorite thing is to be in the kitchen. She spent the first morning with us watching me cook an omelet and was so fascinated by it. There’s nothing we’ve put in front of her that she refuses to eat. We’ve got her a little apron to help us cook dinner in, and it’s probably her favorite part of the day. One afternoon, we found her sitting on the kitchen counter, smelling and tasting every single spice we had in the cabinet. Took her to the grocery store a few days later, and she about lost her mind at the spice aisle, staring up at all those rows of little containers like it was the most awe-inspiring thing she had ever seen. We let her pick a few to buy, and we ended up using a few to make dinner that night. She likes to experiment with food, it’s amazing to watch.”
Drake chuckled. “Sounds like she’d get along great with another five-year-old kid I know. Honker’s best friend, Newton, loves food, though he’s more into eating it than making it.”
Campbell laughed. “We’ll have to try and arrange a play-date soon. That’s one of the reasons we figured we’d go ahead and accept this invitation to Binkie’s. We wanted Daraja to start meeting and interacting with other kids her age, get her prepared to start school. We thought one kid—Honker—would be a good place to start. Honker’s a sweetheart and I don’t think they’d have any problems together.”
“I agree,” Drake said, nodding his head. “It’ll be good for the cousins to interact.” He frowned and sighed. “I’m gonna owe Gosalyn big time after this, though, because I think it’s best we keep Champ away, and that’ll have to be her job tomorrow…”
Campbell nodded wearily. “Hopefully not the entire time. I’d like Daraja to get to know Gosalyn, too. Hope they get to bond.”
“We’ll make it work,” Drake assured his brother.
Campbell hesitated, then said, “There is… well, there is one more thing. We don’t have confirmation yet, but we think it’s possible that Daraja is neurodivergent somehow. We can’t get her tested until her English improves, but there’s… well, there’s just some odd behavior from her.”
“Such as?” Drake prompted.
“Daraja can be pretty jumpy,” Campbell explained. “Duclair and I can’t figure out what triggers her when that happens, because we haven’t found anything consistent about when she suddenly jumps or freezes up. Sometimes when that happens, she seems scared, then other times she seems annoyed, and other times she gets this weird curious expression. And sometimes she’ll just stare off at nothing with these big eyes, or shake her head and mutter to herself. She talks to herself a lot, and not when she’s playing with toys or anything like that. It doesn’t seem like imaginary play. She’ll just sit there, sometimes, and have these one-sided conversations in Nigerian, though occasionally she’ll throw in one of the phrases or words she knows in English. We were initially worried that it was a reaction to being in a new place with new people, but according to Duclair’s friend, these were behaviors she was exhibiting back in Nigeria, when her mother was still alive. It’s one of the reasons her mother was so concerned about finding Daraja a good, safe place to live, because she was worried that Daraja’s ticks might have her ostracized or mistreated.”
Drake frowned in thought. The behavior did seem odd, and he had a lot of questions about other things regarding the girl. However, he had a feeling what he needed most was to meet her for himself.
“Well, Campbell, the important thing is that Daraja knows you and Duclair love her,” Drake said. “And it sounds like you both love her tremendously. I look forward to meeting my niece tomorrow.”
Campbell smiled. “And I look forward to introducing my daughter to you.” Campbell tilted his head back, sighing contently. “Who would have thought we’d both be dads to such amazing daughters?”
“Not me, that’s for sure,” Drake said. “Gosalyn is one of the best things to have come into my life, and I’m so happy I get to be her dad.”
“I feel the same way,” Campbell said. He frowned and straightened his neck. “I mean, I hate the way that Daraja had to come into our lives—her losing her birth parents.” Campbell hesitated, then said, “I think the hardest part for Duclair in all this transition is that sometimes when Daraja has one of those one-sided conversations, she uses the Nigerian word for ‘mother’ a lot. We… well, we think she’s pretending her mom is still there, talking to her. Duclair is doing everything she can to bond with Daraja, and, except for a few typical hiccups, they get along great, but… well, I guess Duclair is just worried that Daraja will never see her as her mother, too.”
Drake’s heart panged, knowing that being a mother—any child’s mother—was something Duclair wanted desperately. When Drake had adopted Gosalyn, she had never known either of her birth parents, who died when she was a baby. Drake had become the only father that Gosalyn ever knew; it sounded like the situation with Daraja and Campbell was similar. But Daraja knew her mother, had memories of her mother…
Drake put his hand on Campbell’s arm. “Give them both time, everything will fall into place. Just remember, you’re no less a family just because Daraja is adopted, just because she came into your lives when she was older. Duclair is her mother, you are her father, and she is your daughter. Forever and always.”
Campbell nodded solemnly. “Yeah.” He took a deep breath, seemed to be reassuring himself as he said, “It’s all going to work out.”
Somehow.