Chapter Text
That next morning, she told her grandfather about it. Her name – Webbigail – kept the best of both worlds. It meant talented, diligent, and it meant delightful and intelligent.
“Which does a marvelous job of describing you,” Grampy had told her.
She wished Luke was there to call her that. Not that the girls couldn't do it, or Grampy or Donald, it was just- It wasn't the same. Having people outside your family confirming your existence was special, Luke saying her name would be special. He was missing out on too much.
It wasn't Luke who said it first (not to her ears anyways).
Webby had jogged to the library first thing in the morning. She'd been going there almost as often as the triplets left for school since it reopened after the Shadow War. It was Saturday though, but she needed to get to the next book in her research list as soon as possible and, at this rate, there weren't going to be any adventures that week anyway.
“Hi! I'm Webby, and I need your help with some books!” she greeted the librarian. “I'm just doing some casual research on shadow magic. Not trying to bring my best friend back from its depths or anything,” Luke copied her as she spoke.
“You are a bizarre one,” Mr. Quackfaster complimented.
“Anyway, I'm looking for ‘Spirits of the Shadow Realm’!”
“Give it up, Pink. You've messed with enough magic for one lifetime, I'll be fine. In the shadow realm… forever.”
“I cannot lend you this book.”
“Because it holds dark and forbidden secrets?”
No. It turned out another kid had already checked it out and was reading it at one of the tables. She tried to convince him into giving it up, but he knew how to speak ancient Syrian and Old Norse, which was SO cool!!
“Vinicio Sabrewing,” he introduced himself.
She shook his hand eagerly. “I’m Webby!”
Vinicio’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Webbigail Vanderquack? Of McDuck Manor? Trusted companion in many of Scrooge McDuck's adventures?”
Webby had to blink off stars in her eyes. Shaking out of her stupor, she squirmed at the titles,
“Oh, gee- Uh, yeah, no- I mean, I- I'm more of a faithful ward!”
Luke fiddled impatiently with his sweater sleeves, arms crossed. “Alright! Enough with the love fest, just grab the book and—”
“You must have a fascinating perspective on the supernatural.”
“I've.. had a few experiences.”
“Have you?” Vinicio mused.
That had clearly piqued his interest, not Webby herself or her skills but her public reputation or whatever else Vinicio was after. Luke sneered.
“Hold up, Pink-”
“If you need this book to further your own exploration,” he quickly packed the book and zipped his bag shut, “I'm happy to review it with you.”
“Uh, sorry , she doesn't do autographs for free! Webby.” He shot a thumb towards the exit. “Let's roll.”
“Your home at five. I'll bring my bedclothes should our research extend longer than anticipated and I have to stay the night,” Vinicio announced (all too intent on getting into McDuck's mansion. Like Luke had been. When he was EVIL! Why else would Vinicio's name sound like ‘vicious’?!) and left without looking back. “Good day!”
“Um- Okay! See you tonight!” When Vinicio was out of hearing range, Webby squealed, “EEE, HE SAID MY NAME!”
“I can say your name. Everybody can say your name. Webbigail, Webbigail, Webbi–Ugh, he's not special! ”
Mr. Quackfaster shushed her and her beak clicked shut. Then she gasped, and whispered to herself, clapping silently,
“Oh boy! A sleepover!! ”
The sleepover with Vinicio went, uh– It just went . She tried to keep away from mystical artifacts and such, but Vinicio was as obsessed with magic as she was with the McDuck family, so they ended up messing around with shadow magic after all. Which. Brought Luke back. Not the shadow magic, the friendship bracelet. Eh, they'd do research on that some other day. Now, the sleepover with Vinicio and Luke was the best and most successful sleepover she's ever thrown! They were getting along and Vinicio wasn't evil and LUKE WAS BACK YAY!! She had so much fun she was actually too overwhelmed to handle any more games past midnight, so they'd gone to bed early. Vinicio and Luke stayed up talking a little bit longer, their voices lulling Webby to sleep, her soft snores and deep breathing lulling them to sleep in turn.
The next morning, they were woken up by Vinicio's ringtone.
“Mom. Good morning,” he answered the call, still half-asleep. “Yes. Yes. Not yet. No. Yes, that'll be ideal. Love you too.” He tucked it into his pocket. “My mother will be here in forty minutes.”
Webby sat up, wiping some drool from her chin. “So soon? We didn't even have breakfast yet!”
“I have a tight schedule.”
“Isn’t it Sunday?” Luke groaned.
“I have a tight schedule every day.” Vinicio yawned, rubbing his eyes. Then the eyelashes of his left eye fell off, all together in a clump, just popped right off and fell to the ground. Webby screamed. “Augh, I slept with my eyelashes on…”
“ YOU TAKE THEM OFF FOR BED?! ”
“Uh, yes?” he said, one eyebrow raised as he picked it back up. “Did you think they were real? They’re false lashes.”
“I thought they were so big because you're a hummingbird!”
“That is a common stereotype. Just not for males.”
“You're the first hummingbird I met,” Webby explained herself, embarrassed. “Wait, are you telling me people can buy eyelashes? Just like that?”
“I'm genuinely surprised you didn't know.”
She waddled over to get a better look at the eyelashes. “Can I try them out?”
“It's unhygienic to share eye cosmetics, Webby. Especially since I slept with them on.”
“Oh..”
“Do you have ethanol or some other kind of cleaning alcohol?”
Webby beamed. They went to the bathroom, where she kept ethyl alcohol in a first aid kit in the cabinet. The makeup remover they used to remove their monster face paint on the sleepover was still by the sink too, and Vinicio used it to ease his right eyelashes out.
“Good, those will be useful,” Vinicio said, taking the tweezers and cotton tips from the kit. They used the tweezers to pull some dried glue from the lashes, and the cotton-tips to rub them clean with the alcohol. “There.”
He took a tube of that glue from his pocket and applied it to the lashes in an impossibly thin line with expertly stable hands, like he'd done this since he was born. After a brief warning to stay completely still, he attached them to Webby's eyelids.
“Hm,” he said when he was done.
“That didn't sound like a happy ‘hm’ .”
“You can open your eyes now, see for yourself.”
She did, and the person staring back at her in the mirror was a Frankenstein clash of Vinicio's face and hers. Not a good mix – it was too fluffy nearing the ends and the shape sharpened her eyes marginally so she looked snooty. It wasn't very comfortable either. Webby deflated in disappointment.
“How does it look so much better on you?!”
“It could be because they're hummingbird lashes.”
“But I thought you said–”
“I said male hummingbirds don't have eyelashes as big as females’, but what I mean is that those are not made for ducks. You have chubbier cheeks and rounder eyes, especially call-ducks like your grandpa.”
“Luke's eyes aren't round.”
“Luke, technically, isn't a duck.” Vinicio pulled out his phone and started tapping on it while Webby tugged the lashes out. Then he let her see the screen, which showed her captured by the front camera. “Here, this filter lets you try on some different lashes from this brand.” He swiped and suddenly she had his lashes on again. “See? Those are mine.”
He swiped again and she was wearing finer lashes. Webby took the phone and they swiped through a collection of different shapes and lengths and thickness until one felt just right. The simplest, smallest and most natural-looking one.
“They’re very you.”
“They are!” Webby gazed at herself on the screen.
Vinicio took his phone back.
“Now if you'll excuse me, I have to change into my day clothes.”
“Oh! Right!”
Webby skipped back to her bedroom only to find Luke had fallen back asleep.
“Luke, wake up! We're on a time limit!”
He opened one eye. “I haven't slept in over six months, Webbigail, give me a break.”
He had been using her full name a lot since they got him back. Maybe not a lot lot, he just didn't have the habit of calling her Webster before the Shadow War, so it was a lot by comparison. She wasn't complaining.
“You didn't need sleep!” she pointed out.
“This isn't about actual sleep, it's just.. touching soft things and feeling warm.”
He still unzipped his sleeping bag. It felt like an invite to the dark side of sleepdom more than a half-hearted effort to crawl out of its grasp. It was tempting even though Webby was bright awake, that was her best friend and she'd proved that she'd go to hell and back for him. She wormed out of her sleeping bag to crawl into his and, he was right, this was all about feeling soft and warm. Humming contently, even if the sleeping bag was only big enough for her to fit half of her body inside with Luke taking up most of the space, she snuggled up next to him.
“Ah! I still can't believe you're back!”
“Guess you'll have to take my word for it.”
“Were you really following me around this whole time? What if I walked away without you noticing, would my shadow pull you along?”
“Yeah, you'd kind of drag me around half of the time.” When he noticed Webby crumple, he quipped, “I’m used to it. I'm a literal shadow, Pink. It's not like it hurt, I was just a 2D projection on the floor.”
“That doesn't sound fun though…”
“Meh. Also, no, there are places a shadow can't follow you.”
“To the bathroom?”
Luke grimaced uncomfortably. “ Nnno , the light there is really good. I mean like, when you get up for a cup of water in the middle of the night with your night-vision goggles on? The mansion’s completely dark. You don't cast a shadow.”
“Where did you go when I wasn't casting a shadow?”
“I don't know. I think I just stop existing for a while. Get thrown in the void.”
Webby frowned, horrified. Luke swallowed.
“I stayed during the night though. Because of your–” he gestured to the ceiling, “–glow-in-the-dark stars.” Then, disapprovingly, he added, “And your lamp , when you studied up late.”
She giggled sheepishly, reaching over to hug him. He patted her head.
“Wait wait wait, you followed me to the bathroom?! ”
“I couldn't really help it, Webby, you dragged me around, remember?” he argued. “I went away when you were at the toilet or in the bathtub though. Or mostly whenever you'd walk into the bathroom, but I still watched you brush your teeth and do your pep talks more often than not.”
“You could go away? But I thought you said–” She understood, gasping. “You could jump into the void?!”
“Yeah.”
“But how did you come back? Is there time in the void?”
“Not really. I just-” Luke sighed. “It was a toss of dice, y’know? You can't think in the void, not clearly. I went back whenever I remembered you. Max I've stayed there was thirteen hours, I think?”
Webby went quiet again. Luke followed suit.
At the right moment, she rolled back, and Luke yelped as he was yanked out of his sleeping bag into the cold hard floor.
“I have saved you from the siren spell of sleep inertia! You're welcome!”
“Not feeling particularly welcome right now!”
“Did you guys just lie there cuddling this whole time?” Vinicio asked, walking in. “You're hopeless. I'm ready for breakfast.”
“About that,” Luke said, sitting up. “I better get going.”
Webby shot up. “What?! Why?!”
“I’m glad to be back. I really am! But I'm still adjusting to being seen and I don't think I'm ready to face everyone else just yet.”
“I’m assuming that means you've grown used to saying things in front of other people that you wouldn't say if they could hear you, and now you're afraid you'll slip up and everybody will hate you for what were meant to be your private thoughts. Aside from how often you've been walking into walls or orbiting Webby in whichever direction her shadow’s cast,” Vinicio explained. “That's rough.”
“You are terrifying.”
“Aw, what! But I just got you back!” Webby bargained, “You could stay up here! I'll bring you breakfast and–”
“That's not gonna work, Pink, the Powerpuff girls are gonna come looking for you sooner or later and we can't just. Avoid them the whole day long.”
“So you're going back to the amphitheater..?”
“I guess?”
“Sorry, are you referring to the ruins at the beach?” Vinicio asked between the two of them, concerned. “Is that where you live?”
“ Yeah . So what?” Luke snapped, getting defensive. He immediately dialed it down, “All I have is in there.”
“I say we skip breakfast to go get your things then,” he suggested. When Luke raised an eyebrow at him, he told them, “You could come to my house.”
“What? No, what the hell, I wouldn't wanna–”
“My family does foster care, so our guest room is always ready and you could stay for as long as you need. I'm not one for empty offers, Luke. I mean it when I say we'd happily have you over.”
He just stared, baffled. Webby grinned, pulling him to his feet before he could start making excuses.
“Let's go! It's just for one day!”
“Um, yeah, okay,” Luke mumbled. “Just for one day.”
They left for the beach before the triplets could come out for breakfast, taking one cardboard box each, and although Luke had insisted they wouldn't need that many boxes, they left with each box filled to the brim with his valuable—“in reselling conditions, not with emotional value”—belongings. There was still a lot staying behind, but most of it was trash according to him, and what wasn't could be used by anybody who'd need it more. When Vinicio's mother arrived, she helped them put the boxes in the trunk before finally asking her son,
“So we're taking someone home?”
“You didn't tell her?!” Luke hissed.
“I forgot,” Vinicio said in his usual monotone voice, but he sounded the slightest bit embarrassed. “Mom, this is Luke…”
Not wanting to say his last name, he just shrugged. Vinicio improvised, much to Luke's horror,
“This is Luke Amphitheater. As far as I gathered, he lived with his uncle until he went missing after the Shadow War. He's been staying at Webby's, but he needs somewhere else to crash for a while to readjust into the physical world. It's a long story.”
A great deal of Luke's tension seemed to decline at his toned down version of his backstory, and he risked eye contact with Vinicio's mom, who only smiled at him kindly and offered a hand,
“Hey Luke, I'm Lilac! You'll meet Vinicio’s other mom, Heather, at home. We'll help you settle in and you can stay with us with absolutely no deadline.”
“Absolutely?”
“Absolutely,” she assured him. “You're Vini’s friend so you're welcome to crash the night whenever you need.”
He shook her hand timidly. Webby took the attention off him,
“Hi! I'm Webby! Did you say Vinicio has two moms? Does that mean you and your possible ex-husband both remarried and are living together or that you're a polygamous marriage? Wait, is this rude for me to ask?”
Lilac laughed. “No, it's fine. Heather and I are married to each other.”
“You can do that?!”
“We can now! It became legal three years ago.”
“So you were just best friends co-parenting a child until 2015?”
“We were fiancées throughout most of Vini's childhood.”
“Congratulations on your marriage!!”
“Thank you!”
“Can two men also get married?”
“Since 2015 too!”
Webby glanced side-eyed to her friends, who’d gotten into their own conversation unaware of hers. She whispered,
“How about a man and a woman that's not a man?”
Lilac just raised her eyebrows, amused. “Heterosexual marriage has.. not stopped being legal since good ol’ Adam and Eve.”
“Oh- Yeah, haha- R- Right! You're right! Sorry!” she stammered, flustered. “You should go!”
They got in the car. Webby waved Luke goodbye until the car was out of sight, and from the back seat he looked like a nervous wreck.
It seemed Luke had decided to test Lilac’s “absolutely” promise though, because the next time they saw each other was six days after they brought him back and Luke was the most relaxed she'd seen him since the day they met. His clothes were clean, he looked fresh new, maybe he'd washed his hair or trimmed the ends or something, it just looked better, softer rather than oily. He looked, overall, more taken care of.
When he said he'd be exploiting this one-in-a-lifetime pass to freeload until he was eventually kicked out, Webby couldn't find it in herself to take that from him, the experience of having the sole attention of two parents. She could only imagine what it felt like. Aunt Della, Donald, Grampy and Uncle Scrooge were all very caring and she was grateful to have them, but it wasn't the same. For one, she didn't call any of them Mom or Dad. She could call Donald her dad like the triplets did – he had not only given her full permission to, but also fueled the idea by treating her no different than he treated his actual children – yet it still didn't sit right with her. She could tell it bothered him a little every time she referred to him by his name instead of Dad, so she'd just learned to circumvent both words altogether when he was within hearing range.
“Don’t worry, when I get kicked out I'll come straight here,” Luke reassured her on the way to her room, after Vinicio had fallen behind in the bathroom. “Scrooge owes me anyways.”
“What makes you so sure they're going to kick you out?” Webby gasped, looking side to side before whispering, “Are they mean?! ”
“No! Gosh no, they're so sweet and comprehensive it gets cringey.”
“Then why?”
He clicked his tongue. “I've done this before, Pink, been swooped into foster system a couple of times in Europe, it always ends the same: if I don't run away first, they hand me out at the end of the week.”
“Even if they're sweet and comprehensive?!”
“Webby, every foster family’s cheesy, it's like, mandatory or something.”
She pouted. “But it's been a week and nothing happened!”
“Nuh-uh, it's been six days. I'll breathe in some disrespectful way tomorrow and you'll find me at your doorstep by noon.”
“Don't say that!”
“Don't say what?” Vinicio asked from the door, walking in with his hands behind his back. Webby would think he was hiding something if she saw any playful sparkle in his eyes, but he was inexpressive as ever.
“That you're a total ass-kisser,” Luke easily lied, smirking.
Vinicio's eyes widened. “You told her about the–”
“No no!” He presented Webby like a merchant showing off the products inside their coat. “Go ahead.”
“What? What's going on?”
“Close your eyes and don't move,” Vinicio instructed.
She did, hesitantly because there was a fifty-fifty chance this would be a prank, but she’d go for trusting her friends every single time.
Her beak fell open when she felt a familiar sensation on her eyelids.
“Is that–”
“ Don't move ,” he reminded her, applying her other lash. Webby almost nodded. Then, he pulled away. “I'm done.”
Webby opened her eyes to find Luke holding a phone to her face. She was beautiful on the screen, picture perfect, lovelier than a nymph. Her stomach fluttered and she shakily reached a hand up to her cheek, where the very tips of her fingers brushed lightly against the eyelashes – they were real – and she felt like she could cry. She'd done it now. This was it . The way she looked on the outside was exactly the way she'd looked on the inside all along, it happened , it was happening now .
She wailed, pulling her best friends in for a bone-crushing hug. “YOU GUYS!! AW, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!! ”
“You were right, she did react more enthusiastically than I expected,” Vinicio told Luke, tone slightly worried, and Luke just snorted. Webby let them go, tears shining in her eyes, and he quickly noted, “I advise you against crying with them on while the adhesive is still fresh.”
“I can't–” she gasped, tilting her head up and breathing heavily, fanning herself to stop the oncoming tears, “–help it-”
They burst free when Vinicio handed her a little pink box of lashes. “There are another four in here, they should all last you five months of daily use if cleaned properly.”
“Thank you SO much! I love them!”
“I can tell.”
Webby sniffled, then nodded, “Let's get to work! I’ve located the manufacturer of the beads I used for the friendship bracelet!”
“Don't rule out the string, Webbigail,” Luke warned, keeping an arm around her shoulders.
“Or the possibility that you are magic,” Vinicio told her, sending Luke a look .
“Ugh, you're still hung up on that?!”
“Every idea counts, guys,” Webby mediated. “Come on! The factory’s on the outskirts of town!”
Funny – she thought as they packed and left for the ride – they were already starting to bicker like siblings. And since Sunday came and went without Luke showing up at the gates, she found it safe to assume they really were siblings. She wasn't jealous! She wasn't! She had her own sisters, she just… wished she could get parents too, as easy as Luke did.
Hers were just a picture of a corkboard full of other people she hadn't had the chance to meet.