Disclaimer: I don't own Ducktales!

Title: Running Out of Road

Summary: Magica pulls one way. The Duck-McDuck family pulls another.

...

Rain fell. It was the typical lukewarm rain of summer, complete with humidity and heat lightning. Lena had been halfway across Duckburg when it began, and now, an hour later, was still soaked, in spite of her best efforts to dry herself off.

"Lena."

"Shut up. I'm still mad at you."

Magica's shadow wound itself around the columns of the amphitheater. The way her Aunt moved had always reminded her of a snake- slithering, watchful, waiting for its next meal. Granted, of course, that snakes weren't evil incarnate, but hey. We all have our downsides.

The magical manifestation of a woman tutted, reaching her long fingers out to lightly card through her hair. "Oh, Lena, don't be," she simpered. "I only did what I had to do."

Lena crossed her arms. The fabric made an uncomfortable squish noise. "You said you wouldn't control me."

"I had to!" Magica's voice was defensive. "You were forgetting your purpose. I couldn't just let you walk away from me." It fell silent, save for the thrum of water on stone. "Besides. It was only your feet."

The teenager grit her teeth. She didn't really like to think about her Aunt's control over her. Thus far, Magica had been really good about not bringing it up, but now that she'd given a show of defiance? It was impossible to tell. Lena should've known better than to expect it to be as easy as just walking away.

"You're going to get a cold," Magica said suddenly, scowling. "Things are tense enough without you having a stuffed head. Go to the McDuck manor and get yourself cleaned up."

Lena raised an eyebrow. "I could swing by my house?"

"Use your weakened state to get their sympathy," she hissed in reply. "A bit of recon is always a wise choice."

She sighed and slowly stood. Of course. There's no reason why Magica would care about her general health. She certainly hadn't cared about her getting eaten by Tiffany. "Whatever you say, Aunt Magica."

Lena's shoes became murky and sludgy as she kicked up puddles, taking her time to get through Duckburg. The sun was setting over the horizon, casting the streets in an eerie glow as the lamps flickered on. Stiff ducks and dogs slogged by her, carrying umbrellas or holding something above their heads. Lena welcomed the drizzle with as much good humor as she could conjure, but that only lasted until a truck hit a dip in the road and drenched her more thoroughly.

Wet, cranky, and humiliated, Lena climbed over the looming yellow fence, not in the mood to press a button and wait. She trudged up to the walk to the front porch, then hit the doorbell and waited.

She heard movement, then the twist of the knob, and there was Beakley, standing over her in all her hulking glory, eyebrows raised just a little with surprise. "Lena! Whatever happened to you?"

Lena looked at her clothes, then her. "I got wet."

"Clearly," she replied blandly, grabbing her shoulder. "Get in here."

Beakley instructs her to stay, mindful of getting the floor dirty, then walked away to grab some towels. Lena sighed and leaned against the door. Her hands were too wet to use her phone properly, leaving her cold and alone.

Or so she wished, before Magica appeared behind her, hands on her shoulders. "Take a good look around, Lena," she urged. "This is where our conquest begins. One day, we will march through this door and take vengeance on Scrooge McDuck! Isn't it exciting?"

"I'm soaked and I'm not allowed on the carpet," Lena grunted. "Goody."

Magica slid back into parts unknown at the familiar screech of her name. Webby came flipping down the stairs with a joyful cry, hands outstretched for a hug. Lena made a slow down gesture, mindful of her current status as something the cat dragged in, but not even that could stop the girl's love of affection. She grabbed her 'round the waist and squeezed; and, okay, Lena had to admit it was kind of nice that someone was willing to waste perfectly clean shirts on her.

"You wanna borrow one of my outfits?" Webby asked as she pulled away, her front much damper than it had been prior. "That's a fun, friendly thing friends do, right?"

"Sure, if said friends are around the same size." Lena gestured to herself, double Webby's height and with none of her muscle. "We might have an issue here."

Beakley's crisp voice broke into their moment. "Not at all." She was holding up a black t-shirt. The front was slathered with some old metal band Lena didn't listen to. "This should fit you just fine."

"I refuse to believe Scrooge McDuck has band shirts."

"Who said anything about him? This is Donald's."

Webby led her to a particular bathroom on the higher floor, but it was soon found to be occupied, with Dewey waiting for it to open up. Judging by the off-key singing from within, Louie had decided to take a shower. "This could be an issue."

"Stupid question," Lena said, holding the band shirt as far away from her body as possible. "But doesn't Scrooge have, like, a million bathrooms? I mean, this is a mansion."

"Yeah, but this is the kid's bathroom," Dewey supplied, shrugging helplessly. "He uses the others to take money baths."

"He can't do that in just one bathroom?"

"He says he likes switching the view up."

"Hm," Lena grunted, draping the shirt over Webby's bulbous head. "Why don'tcha go get changed, pink? This looks like it'll be a bit."

"Oh!" The idea clearly hadn't occurred to her. Webby tossed the shirt back at her and raced down the hallway. "Be right back!"

That left her alone with Dewey. Lena didn't mind Dewey, per say, but he was easily the triplet she had the least experience with. Louie was fun, if whiny, while train-crawling with Huey had left her with a soft spot for the oldest triplet. All she really knew about Dewey was that he liked to sing and dance at inappropriate times.

"Hey," Dewey said. "Thanks."

"Huh?" Lena quickly put two and two together. "Oh. It's whatever. I was just there at the time, so-"

"Not for helping with the shark," he clarified, shaking his head. "For being Webby's friend."

Lena didn't know what to say to that. "Oh."

"That sounds really bad, actually. I don't mean it in, like, a 'thanks for putting up with her way'. I don't. Webby is awesome, and if people can't handle that then that's their business." Dewey shrugged and held his hands up. "It's just... Webby's new to a lot of stuff, y'know? She can murder basically anything, but if you asked her to order at a restaurant she'd probably faint. And that's okay, because we're here to help her, and Beakley is here to help her, and now you're here too." Dewey gave her an intense look of appreciation. "I was kind of worried her first friend would end up being a jerk about it and we'd have to kick their butt. So, thanks. For not making us have to kick your butt."

Lena nodded dumbly, mouth hanging open. "Sure."

Magica moved back and forth across the floor. Due to the curtain (and Lena's unwillingness to let an ancient sorceress watch her shower) she'd been forced to slink through the tiny flap at the bottom, covered by bath mats and water. "He's manipulating you, Lena."

"Gee, I wouldn't know what that's like," she said as she shampooed her hair. "What could he possibly want from me?"

"He wants your loyalty."

"I mean, he does think we're friends."

Magica's red eyes grow as thin as slits. "You're very defensive of him," she observed.

She shrugged, scrubbing viciously at an arm. "I dunno if you've noticed, but Dewey's not the brains of the outfit. He gets his head stuck in something once a week. I don't see the point in trying to make him sound like some sort of manipulative genius when he's not. He's just really sincere and really bad at keeping his beak shut."

"Don't grow soft for them, Lena. Remember the plan."

"Didn't we just have a talk about this?"

That shut the sorceress up for a bit. Or maybe it was because she'd turned the faucet off. Lena dried off and slipped on Donald's shirt, finding the fabric to be much sturdier than what she was used to. She stretched her arms, trying to make it more comfortable, before finally giving up and exiting the bathroom. Webby was the only duck waiting for her, wearing her typical nightgown.

"Wanna watch a movie?" she asked eagerly

Lena felt exhausted, but she dutifully nodded. "Sure, Webs."

The whole family was gathered in the living room as she plopped down on the floor, Webby quick to steal the spot next to her. If Donald noticed she had one of his shirts, he didn't say anything. He had practically vanished into the comfy side chair, snoring off a day of chasing after his nephews and adventurous Uncle. Said Uncle had taken the opposite chair, while the triplets slouched on various couch cushions between them.

"Double, double toil and trouble!" cackled three rather green-looking witches on the TV, their noses covered in warts, as each took a stir at the equally green liquid in a cauldron.

"That's not how magic works," Lena muttered, parroted by the deep growl of Scrooge. The two exchanged a surprised look, then turned back to the movie. Lena tried not to think about the fact that she'd just made eye contact with the duck she fully intended to royally screw over someday soon.

"I don't think I like magic very much," Huey admitted, tilting his head slightly to the side. "It's so close to improbable it makes me nervous."

"I dunno, Hue. If I could magically enchant brooms to do my chores, I'd become a wizard in a heartbeat," said Louie, not moving his eyes from the screen.

Scrooge stuck his tongue out, visibly nauseous. "Magic never did anyone any good. S'just a shortcut. S'not even a good shortcut." He awkwardly reached out to ruffle Huey's feathers. "Yer wise to avoid it, laddie."

Lena's scowl dipped low on her beak. She could feel Magica's eyes on her, the cold touch of her shadowy hands, demanding she defend the family business. "If that money shark is anything to go by, then you've got a point," she said instead, mostly in hopes of pissing Magica off enough to leave her alone for a bit. The glower intensified, then vanished. Webby leaned on her side.

Webby called for a brushing race. Lena purposefully lost, then shrugged and brushed twice, if only to appease the duckling. Louie came in during said 'punishment' to wash his face and other nightly rituals. The boy had exchanged his hoodie for a thin shirt and shorts- the same as his brothers, only in green.

"Hey," Louie said, his beak flecked with white toothpaste. "Thanks."

Lena groaned at the familiar words. "Is this about the shark, or Webby?"

The youngest triplet sent her a curious look, but didn't ask. "Neither. Well, technically it's about the shark, but it's not relating to it." Louie rinsed his toothbrush with warm water, then plunked it into the special holder. "Thanks for sticking up for me. It's not often that someone sides with me in an argument. It means a lot."

She felt a bit relieved. This wasn't some confession. It was just being polite. "And here I thought you were the triplet with the silver tongue."

That got him to laugh a little. "Yeah, well. Most of my plans are a little more lowkey than what Huey and Dewey like. And don't even get me started on Uncle Scrooge." Louie shuddered. "He told me personally not to dive into the bin. If he'd found out that we'd snuck in and tried it? Dead. Finito. Curtain call. Bye bye, Louie Duck."

"I mean, diving into a mound of gold coins does seem pretty dangerous."

Louie shrugged, the hint of a smile on his face. "If this is my sun, then call me Icarus." He tugged open the door and sent her a complimentary finger gun. "Night, Lena."

Lena wondered when stopping by to get out of the rain had turned into a sleepover. "Night."

The door barely had the time to shut before Magica appeared yet again. Her shadow vibrated like a buzzing bee as she examined her niece. "How dare you disgrace magic?" she demanded. "And Tiffany- may she rest in peace! She deserves much more than that."

She rolled her eyes. "I dunno if you've noticed, but I'm currently talking to a shadow that holds the only key to my freedom about the shark who tried to murder me. Magic and I don't get along."

Magica's red eyes got much bigger, taking up most of her face region. "What kind of De Spell doesn't respect magic?" she spat. "I'm almost ashamed to call you my niece!" She bent over slightly, coming close to Lena's face. "You know what would make up for it?"

Lena's stomach twisted at the devious look about her Aunt. "If this is gonna be some hackneyed plan to steal Scrooge's dime while he sleeps-"

"So we're on the same page! Good."

"Aunt Magica, Scrooge is built. He'd wreck me the moment I snuck into his room."

"The dime is around his throat, Lena," Magica whispered, tilting her head to the side. "All you'd have to do is grab the string and hand it to me- and I'm with you always." Long, black fingers grabbed and moved her chin so they were eye-to-eye. "Don't you want your freedom, Lena?"

She swallowed. Her throat felt dry. She could feel her fingers begin to shake. "There's no way, Aunt Magica," Lena answered, pleading with her eyes for the woman to understand. "He's a rich old dude. He's probably had a bunch of people sneak in on him at night to try and assassinate him. He could beat me up with his pinkie."

"What's better, Lena?" Her eyes narrowed. "A few bruises, or eternal imprisonment?"

Webbed feet sprinting down the hall broke the trance. Lena firmly shook her head and Magica, displeased but aware she was getting way too bold, vanished. Webby knocked on the door with the level of commitment and spirit Lena couldn't even imagine giving to a bowl of cereal, hollering. "You okay? You've been in there a while!"

Lena smoothed the collar of Donald's shirt out. Unlike her usual outfit, which completely hid her talisman, the shirt left the very edges of the amulet peeking out. It was barely even noticeable, but it was driving her up the wall to look at. "Yeah, Webby, I'm fine." She pulled the door open before it could suffer any more abuse. "Just, uh, wanted to make sure I brushed all my molars."

Webby's bed was a bit tiny for more than one duck to be sleeping on it, especially with her stuffed animals, so Lena lounged back horizontally on the very bottom, clear of her short legs. Her feet hung off the edge, but she didn't complain. Her mind buzzed with questions; namely, just how far her Aunt was willing to go with their connection. She glanced out the window, half-hoping the rain had cleared and she could bounce, but no dice.

"Hey, Lena?" Webby's voice drifted through the darkness without an issue.

"Yeah?"

"What happened to your friendship bracelet?"

Lena sat up, startled. Thunder rumbled in the distance. "I- I lost it." Lena scowled at how wobbly she sounded, forcing her heart to settle a bit. "I'm so sorry, Webby. I know you worked really hard on it."

"Oh." She sounded disappointed, but not necessarily surprised. "Well, why didn't you just say so? I could make you another!"

Again, she thought of Aunt Magica, and the blue glow that had wrapped around her. Asking for another would be poking a bear, without question. "Nah, Webs. It's- it's fine."

"Are you sure? I can make it darker, if that's the problem."

"I'm fine, Webby."

"Okay." Webby moved onto her side, clutching her stuffed bunny to her chest. It was hard to tell if she was hurt or not. "Good night, Lena."

Lena rolled over, facing the footboard. She felt caught between two sides; freedom and comfort. Her Aunt's endless thirst for vengeance and the McDuck family's endless attempts to befriend and care for her, in spite of the odds against both of options. Regardless, they pressed in around her chest, suffocating. She couldn't remain indifferent forever. She had to make a choice soon. But soon was not tonight, and she closed her eyes and settled into a more comfortable position.

"G'night, Webby."

Author's Note: I think this is the most slapdash and unplanned oneshot I've written in at least a month lol. It just kinda popped into my head- half of it came out the day before, the rest came out last night.

Have a long oneshot about Lena's mixed loyalties with some fluff layered on top.

-Mandaree1