Disclaimer: I don't own Ducktales!

Title: Who Cares if Blood is Thicker Than Water- Water's Tastier

Summary: Webby cut him off at the pass. "They didn't want me, Dewey. Case closed."

...

Huey rants and raves about Gods until he falls asleep. Louie listens for maybe five minutes before conking out himself. The two brothers end up sleeping with their heads pressed up against each other, snoring. Webby is leaning on her arms next to him, eyes half-shut. She reminds Dewey of a cat. Things are dead quiet up front, but Dewey knows that just means Scrooge and Donald are asleep as well. He's not entirely sure what Launchpad is doing, but he hopes he's not following the norm.

"Hey, Webby?" he whispers. "Thanks again. For earlier." Webby mumbles a sleepy response. "Hey, Webs?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you know anything about your folks?"

Her eyelids slowly opened, eyes bleary with exhaustion. "Well, that's a weird question."

"Sorry, sorry. I know it's none of my business." Dewey held up his hands. "It's just... you've done so much for me, y'know? Helping me find out more about my mom. And I figured if there was any way I could repay the favor-"

"Oh." Webby chuckled, wiping her hand across her face. "Thanks, but no. It's not like that."

"Not like that?"

"They aren't dead, Dewey." She paused. "I don't think they are, anyway. It's not like I talk to them."

"Not dead? Don't talk?" Dewey echoes, confused. "Could they... not take care of you?"

"No, no." She shook her head again. "They didn't want to take care of me."

"Wait. You mean-"

Webby cut him off at the pass. "They didn't want me, Dewey. Case closed."

Dewey stared her down, floored. Webby, on her part, hardly seemed concerned, staring straight ahead. There was a wound, and it lingered just below the surface, giving her words a particular bite to them, but otherwise she had moved past it.

"Didn't want you?" he blurted out. "How could they not want you? You're Webby Vanderquack!"

Webby laughed a little. "Thanks. I think they were agents like Granny. But when I came along, they had to choose between taking care of a duckling and doing their job, and, well... I guess the job won," she explained, adding; "Granny doesn't talk about them very much."

"That's so not fair!"

"Yeah, well, it's her decision to make."

"No, not that." He brushed it off. Dewey grabbed her wrist. "Who could toss you away? You're awesome!"

"I was just a baby," she pointed out, but shifted closer for a hug. "I wasn't really awesome back then."

"That's a lie!" Dewey raised his voice. "Uncle Donald?"

Donald woke mid-snore. "Whosaywha?"

"Can we adopt Webby?"

The older duck peered around the edge of his seat, baffled. "I thought we already had." Donald glanced at Scrooge. "We did, didn't we?"

"I do believe so," Scrooge agreed, looking just as tired as his nephew. "Now, laddie, do us all a favor and quit shoutin'."

Dewey let out a squeal and shook her shoulder. "Y'hear that, Webby? You're a Duck! Webby Duck!"

"I prefer Vanderquack," she admitted, smiling ear to ear. "Thanks, Dewey. This means a lot to me."

Author's Note: Here, have some hurt-and-comfort, Webby and Dewey style.

-Mandaree1