A/N: I think I may have confused some people and made them think that the previous chapter was the last chapter. Nope, this is the last chapter. Like I said earlier though, I'll still probably write a series of one-shots that follow this story, a kind of a sequel. This particular story though, it's finished, and I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Donald had been flying more times than he could count. Uncle Scrooge had his own private jet, and he always took it out when he went adventuring. Donald had never been afraid of flying, but he hadn't necessarily enjoyed it either. It was no different than a drive in the car. Just a way to get from one destination to another.

Flying home though, after being away for so long, it made the airplane one of Donald's favorite inventions in existence. It was getting him home quickly.

"Alright, kids, buckle up," Great-grandpa Coot called out to them from the front of the plane, which he was piloting. "We're landing soon,"

Della shifted slightly and mumbled into Donald's shoulder. She sat up groggily. "Are we home yet?"

"Not yet," Donald pat his sister's arm. "Go back to sleep," She'd been clinging to his arm and sleeping during the entire flight. Donald wondered just how much sleep she'd been able to get while he was gone, because she never slept during their flights. "We have a small detour to make, remember?"

Della grumbled and snuggled closer to Donald's shoulder. He had been more than happy to let her sleep on him for all these hours, but at that moment he didn't want her on him anymore. For one thing, his arm was asleep and he wanted to stretch it for a bit. The more important reason was that for the past hour or so Panchito had been pacing around anxiously, his feathers ruffled. It didn't take a genius to see that he was upset. Scrooge had tried to talk to him, but Panchito had only responded to him in Spanish. Donald knew that he would be the only one to really figure out what was going on with Panchito.

"Go," Victor, who was sitting on Della's other side, took her arm and pulled her onto him. Victor also held a sleeping José close to him. "I'll keep an eye on her."

"Thanks," Donald muttered. He stood up and stretched a little bit before making his way towards his friend. Panchito was muttering under his breath. Donald sighed and as Panchito walked past him he took his hand. "Hey, you okay?" Panchito didn't answer, he just tugged his arm and continued muttering to himself in Spanish. He sounded nearly frantic.

Donald remembered when he had first met Panchito, how the rooster would struggle to speak English when he was especially distressed. It hadn't been too long since it had last happened. If he instinctively speaking Spanish, then maybe he would have a hard time understanding English right now. Donald could deal with that.

"¿Oye, amigo, estás bien?" Donald said quietly. Panchito finally paused.

"No...no puedo…" Panchito made a noise that sounded like a cross between a groan and a whimper. "I can't do this."

Donald frowned. It seemed like Panchito was up for speaking English after all. "Do what? Why are you so nervous?" Panchito grimaced and brought a hand to his neck. Donald quickly grabbed Panchito's hand before he could irritate his neck. He didn't know why he was trying to touch his injury.

"Well, maybe...maybe we should just leave now," Panchito said quickly, so quickly that Donald could barely understand a word he had said. "You've been waiting to go home for so long, to see your fami...I just don't think you should have to wait anymore. You should go home now."

Donald stared at Panchito in shock. "You can't be serious," Except he could tell that Panchito really was being completely serious. He just didn't understand why. "Panchito, we're so close, don't you want to see your family?" It was the whole reason why they were stopping in Mexico before going back to Duckburg.

Panchito flinched and pulled his arms away from Donald's grip. "No...I mean, sí, pero…I don't know…" Panchito whimpered and sat down on the ground. He buried his head in his knees. Donald sat down next to him.

"What's going on?" Donald asked. He knew that they were technically supposed to be sitting in seats and buckling up, but Panchito didn't seem up to moving right now. If things got really rough, they could move and get buckled up. That wasn't necessary right now though.

Panchito let out a slow breath as Donald began to preen his feathers, just like he had done the day that Panchito had been taken by Sheldgoose for the second time. Panchito didn't say a word for a few long minutes. As the plane began to descend Donald ground his feet to the floor and tightened his grip on Panchito to keep him steady. Even after they had landed, Panchito still hadn't opened up to Donald. If anything, he seemed to be even more upset than before.

"Alright, are you lads ready?" Uncle Scrooge walked over to them when they were secure on the ground. Donald looked at Panchito, who shook his head, and then looked up at Uncle Scrooge.

"Not yet," Donald said. Uncle Scrooge looked at Panchito, and a moment later his expression softened in understanding, which Donald didn't understand. Uncle Scrooge hadn't said a word to Panchito, and yet seemed to know exactly what was going through his head? How?

"Come on you two," Scrooge bent down and took Donald and Panchito's hands, pulling them both to their feet. "Let's take a walk, get some fresh air."

"...Okay," Panchito said quietly. At that one word, Donald, who hadn't been sure that Uncle Scrooge's plan was such a good one, was eager to get out. Maybe if Uncle Scrooge knew how Panchito was feeling, he would know how to get him to talk about it.

The three of them exited the plane and made their way out of the small airstrip that they had landed in, just outside town. Panchito didn't say a word, he just clung tightly to Donald's hand as they followed Uncle Scrooge. Panchito seemed really closed off, but as they walked into town he gradually began to relax. Panchito began to look all around, his eyes brightened. A few minutes later he looked completely relaxed and comfortable.

"Does it feel nice to finally be back home?" Donald asked with a grin. Panchito grinned excitedly and nodded.

"It feels great," Panchito said. "I really missed Mexico."

""If it feels so great to be back home, why are you so reluctant to actually go home?" Donald asked. Panchito flinched and looked to the side.

"I don't know," Panchito muttered, though Donald knew that he did actually know. He didn't want his friend to get upset all over again though, not when he had just started to relax and look more like his normal self.

"Hey, I'm feeling a little hungry," Donald said. "Do you know any good food places around here?"

That broad smile immediately returned to Panchito's face. "Oh, there is a great churro place a few streets down. My cousin used to take me there every weekend after work was over."

Donald frowned slightly. "Your cousin? You mean Romero?"

"Sí, Romero," Panchito smiled fondly, but Donald just scowled. Panchito hadn't told him a lot about Romero, but what he'd heard hadn't been all that great. Romero's teasing had gone too far, and that was what had caused Panchito to leave his home in the first place, which had made him vulnerable to getting caught by Sheldgoose.

Maybe it wasn't fair to make brash judgements about someone that he had never even met before, but Donald couldn't help it. Panchito had gone through so much crap, and none of that would have happened if Romero had just learned when too much was too much.

"I've never had a churro before," Donald grumbled. He didn't want to think Panchito's stupid cousin anymore.

"Let's go," Panchito smiled and dragged Donald along to a small but nice looking churro cart. Donald was more than happy to get pulled around by his cheerful friend. As they went though Donald saw something out of the corner of his eye that made him pause to look twice. There were plenty of roosters and chickens around, but one in particular caught Donald's gaze.

The rooster looked shockingly like Panchito, except taller and with a little less baby fat. This rooster, who was probably a few years older than them, seemed to be heading right towards the same churro chart that Panchito was dragging him towards...the churro cart that Panchito had said he often went with his cousin.

"Uh...Uncle Scrooge?" Donald looked back towards his uncle, who had followed them. "What day of the week is it today?"

"Saturday," Uncle Scrooge said immediately. Panchito suddenly froze in his tracks, his eyes wide. He started scanning the crowd almost anxiously until he laid eyes on the same young rooster that Donald had noticed before. Panchito let out a small noise and drew back slightly. Donald tightened his grip on Panchito's hand, partially to support and ground him, and partially to keep him from running off.

The other rooster, who Donald was almost positive was Romero, hadn't noticed them, but when he turned his head vaguely in their direction Panchito flinched and pulled his arm so sharply away from Donald that he was able to get out of his grip completely.

"Wha-hey!" Donald turned towards his friend, but it was too late, Panchito had already turned tail and started running in the opposite direction. "Panchito!" Donald growled to himself and ran off after his friend,dodging Uncle Scrooge's grip when he tried to grab him.

"Stop," Donald shouted. "Panchito, Stop!" His friend didn't do as he said, but he somehow ended up tripping over his own feet. He didn't fall, but he faltered enough in his steps that Donald was able to catch up to him. Donald took advantage of this and tackled Panchito down to the ground, because he knew that if Panchito started running again then he might just get away from. Panchito was taller, faster, and more desperate than Donald was right now.

"What is wrong with you?" Donald snapped, harsher than he probably should have. "Why are you running from your family?"

"I...I didn't…" Panchito whimpered and Donald was startled to see that his eyes were wet with tears. "I didn't try to…" Panchito trailed off into tears and started sobbing. Donald, shocked and feeling slightly guilty, crawled off of Panchito. Donald sat awkwardly as Panchito lay crying next to him. He didn't know what to do.

After another minute Panchito calm down enough to continue speaking. "I left them. I didn't want to be gone for so long, but I still left. Wh-what if they're mad at me for leaving? Wh-what if they don't want me t-to come home?"

"Th-that's ridiculous," Donald said. He had no idea what to say to Panchito. Before he could think of anything Donald was pushed to the side, but not harshly.

"Idiota," Romero pulled Panchito into a sitting position. "Por supuesto que te extrañamos."

"R-Romero?" Panchito whimpered weakly. Romero shook his head and tightened his grip on Panchito.

"Estúpido idiota," Romero said. At this point, Donald thought that enough was enough.

"Hey, don't call him that," Donald scowled as he shoved Romero slightly. He may not be a fluent Spanish speaker, but he knew enough to know that Romero was calling Panchito a stupid idiot, and that was not okay. "And can you please speak English so that we can all understand you a little better?"

"Lo siento, pero…" Romero paused when he saw Donald glaring daggers at him. "Who are you?"

"He's mi herm-migo...amigo." Panchito took Donald's hand and squeezed it. "No fighting, please. Donald, it's fine,"

"It's not fine!" Donald shouted. Uncle Scrooge, who must have followed them, put a hand on Donald's shoulder. "He can't say things like that to you when it's what caused you to run off in the first place."

"Tha-that wasn't-" Panchito began, but he stopped what he was saying and looked at the ground. "It was more than just that."

"E-espera," Romero said weakly. "You left because of me?"

"No!" Panchito said quickly. "...maybe," Panchito pushed Romero away. "I don't know...there was more but...I don't know, I was stupid."

"No you weren't," Romero and Donald said together. Donald looked at Panchito's cousin in shock.

"Wait a second, you just said that he was stupid," Donald glared at Romero in distrust. "Why is it suddenly not okay?"

Romero gave Panchito a cautious look. "I can say it, but he cannot think it."

Romero really didn't understand the difference between friendly teasing and harmful bullying, and yet he called Panchito the idiot. "Have you never heard that if you're told something enough you start to believe it?"

"Alright, lads, that's enough," Uncle Scrooge pulled Donald to his feet before moving on to Panchito and Romero. "Instead of throwing accusations at each other because we're scared," Uncle Scrooge gave Donald a sharp look. "Why don't we all calm down and talk about what's really bothering us. Panchito's already shared what he's afraid of," Panchito shuffled his feet and kept his eyes glued to the ground. "So, Romero, what's bothering you?"

Romero frowned at Panchito. "How do you know these guys? Why...why didn't you come home?"

"Ah, that's a long story," Uncle Scrooge said. "Of course, we'll tell you everything, but it would probably be best for us to explain it to the rest of your family as well, right?" Panchito and Romero both nodded. "So why don't we go back to the plane and get the others before going to your home?"

Donald swallowed thickly. "Yeah, let's do that." He followed as Uncle Scrooge took the lead, pulling Panchito behind him. Donald knew that Romero was going to follow them, but he was still slightly surprised and a little annoyed when he put his arm over Panchito's shoulder and held him closely. Donald knew that if their positions were switched he would probably be doing the same thing, but he still wasn't happy with it.

When they got back to the airstrip they saw Great-grandpa Coot standing in front of the plane. He looked tense, but as soon as he saw them he relaxed. "How was your walk?" Great-grandpa Coot asked. "I see you found a new friend.

"Soy Romero," Panchito's cousin somehow pulled the younger rooster even closer to him. "Su primo,"

"Panchito's cousin?" Great-grandpa Coot smiled warmly. "That's great! I'm Donald's great-grandfather. You can call me Coot."

"I'm pretty sure everybody calls you that," Della stepped out of the plane, rubbing her eyes. She walked right past their great-grandfather and right up to Donald. She promptly punched his arm. "And you, stop running off on me while I'm sleeping."

Donald flinched. That punch was a lot harsher than her hits usually were. He must have really scared her. "There was something I had to do," Donald said. "And I didn't run off the first time, I was kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?" Romero tilted his head curiously. "¿Qué significa eso?"

"Se-secuestrado," Panchito said quietly. "Yo también,"

"Tu…" Romero looked like he was going to be sick, which Donald completely understood.

"Hey, we said we'd go over this later with the rest of your family," Uncle scrooge looked sternly, but not unkindly, at Romero and Panchito. "Let's get the others and we can go."

"Others?" Romero frowned and looked at Panchito and Donald, a worried and protective look in his eyes. "How many of you are there?"

"In the plane? There's five more," Donald said. "Kidnapped? It was just the two of us."

"He wanted José too," Panchito said, his voice shaking in scared anger. It wasn't a tone that Donald liked to hear.

"But we stopped him, lad," Uncle Scrooge tried to say encouragingly, though the stern look in his eyes told Donald that though he was trying to encourage them, he didn't completely believe his own words. "He's not going to hurt any of you ever again."

"H-hurt?" Romero's eyes seemed to flip between fear and anger when it finally settles on anger. "You got hurt?" Panchito squeezed Donald's hand and drew closer to him. Panchito was the kind of person who downplayed his pain. Donald was usually really frustrated with Panchito when he did this kind of thing, but this time he kept quiet about it. Uncle Scrooge was right, talking about this should wait until a little later, with Panchito's parents, not his older cousin.

"I'll go get the Carioca's," Great-grandpa Coot said as he retreated back into the plane. A minute later he returned with Ana and her sons. José was still fast asleep, with Victor carrying him on his back. Luiz trailed behind his older brother, a tired look of mistrust in his eyes, like he wanted to be anywhere but there. Matheus clung tightly to Luiz' arm, keeping his eyes on the sky. None of them looked particularly happy to be there, even though they had all volunteered to come.

Not that Donald could blame them. He would be pretty upset too if he had been told that Della would have to leave her family and begin living with people who were little more than strangers, even if he knew that it was for her own good.

Uncle Scrooge and Great-grandpa Coot both believed that none of them, Donald, Panchito, or José, would be completely safe while Sheldgoose was still out there. At least while he was still a threat, they would all be safer if they were all safe with Uncle Scrooge, who had a lot of experience dealing with this kind of thing.

Ava hadn't been sure of this at first, but Victor, who had seen Sheldgoose for himself, had convinced her that it was for the best. Ava definitely wasn't happy with it, but she still insisted on coming with them to Duckberg, at least for a little bit. She wanted to make sure that her little boy was okay.

"Let's get this over with," Uncle Scrooge said. "We need to get you three back to Duckberg soon."

"Will you be okay with seeing your parents?" Donald whispered quietly to Panchito. He didn't want to see his friend get overwhelmed and freak out again.

"I-I don't…" Panchito looked uncertain. Romero smirked and ruffled Panchito's feathers.

It'll be fine," Romero said confidently. "Te prometo." Panchito relaxed slightly at his cousin's words, which somehow irked Donald slightly. Panchito had been so scared to see his family, but with one simple reassurance he now he seemed to be feeling okay about it. Romero had also been the one to calm him down earlier. He may be Panchito's cousin, but Donald was the one who had been with Panchito through this whole kidnapping mess. He had seen Panchito freaked out and scared, and had also been the one to cause it once or twice, but he still couldn't do anything. Why was he so useless right now?

Donald held onto Panchito's hand, relying on it to ground himself. It was the only thing that he focused on as they walked. He was vaguely aware of Romero talking rapidly in Spanish to Panchito, saying something about what had been going on at home while he'd been gone. Donald couldn't follow the conversation all that easily, and he didn't put a lot of effort into trying. He didn't want to listen to Romero talk about their home or family. He just wanted to get this over with and go home.

...Get it over with? What was wrong with him? They were here so that Panchito could reunite with his family. That shouldn't be a chore. Donald may want to go home, but that wasn't any reason to steal that same thing from Panchito. He deserved to see his family, and he definitely deserved to be happy about it.

Donald stayed in his own mind until he felt Panchito squeeze his hand tighter than he had that day. Donald blinked and looked up from the ground to see that they were standing at the front door of a house. Panchito's home.

Romero seemed oblivious to the return of Panchito's anxiety. Romero finally pulled away from Panchito, but only so he could open the door and lead the way inside. Panchito flinched and drew back slightly like he was wanting to run again, but Donald held firmly on to him this time. Panchito may be scared, but this would be good for him. Donald wasn't going to let him run away this time.

"Tío Miguel, Tía María!" Romero shouted into the house as he looked back towards his younger cousin. Panchito drew in a shaky breath and lurched slightly, like he didn't know whether or not to run inside or leave and never return.

"Romero, no grites en la casa," A woman's voice scolded from in the house. Panchito's eyes widened. He relaxed so much that his hand practically went lax in Donald's.

"M-mamá?" Panchito said so quietly that it was barely inaudible. "Mamá." Panchito's eyes filled with tears and Donald could feel his hand shaking in his own. "¡Mamá!"

"...Mijo?" A red chicken came running to the front door. Donald barely got a good look at her before Uncle Scrooge pulled him back, just before the chicken would have pushed him aside as she pulled Panchito close to her, like she would never let him go again.

Panchito whimpered and clung tightly to his mother. Both of them were sobbing and muttering in Spanish. It took several minutes for either of them to calm down enough for them to begin speaking coherently.

"¿Dónde estabas?" Panchito's mother, María, pulled away just enough that she could look him in the eyes. She gently brushed away some tears away from Panchito's cheeks.

"Lo siento," Panchito closed his eyes and shook his head desperately. "Yo...no pude."

"Cálmase, mijo," María leaned down and kissed Panchito's forehead. "Cálmase. Está bien." Panchito's mother began to quietly hum a tune that sounded familiar to Donald. He had heard Panchito humming it a couple of times when one of them had felt especially lonely. After calming Panchito for a few minutes María finally turned her attention away from Panchito and looked at the other people standing at her doorstep.

"¿Ustedes hablan inglés, sí?" María asked. All of them nodded. She could likely tell partially because none of them looked like they were from around here, and partially because most of them looked a little lost in what she had been saying, even though it had been fairly simple Spanish.

All of them nodded, and María continued. "You found my Panchito?" Donald shrugged, because they may have been the ones to bring Panchito home, but they hadn't exactly found them. Donald and Panchito had just stumbled into each other, and then they'd both stumbled into José's family, and then Donald's family. Panchito's family were the first ones that they had actually 'found'.

Great-grandpa Coot didn't seem to be thinking about the details the same way that Donald was. "More or less,"

"Can we come in?" Uncle Scrooge asked. "We have some things we need to talk about."

"Ah, por supuesto," María stepped into the house, pulling Panchito in with her. "Please, come in." Donald frowned as his sister, Uncle, and great-grandpa went inside after her. He felt his stomach twist up nervously. It felt like something was wrong, but he didn't know what. It was like a mix between the nerves he felt when it was the first day at a new school, and the boiling hot rage he felt whenever somebody was picking on him. Donald hated feeling like this.

"Hey," Donald jumped slightly when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Victor looking at him in concern, with José looking at him tiredly from over his brother's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine," Donald shook his head in an attempt to clear it. Everybody else was already inside.

"You look like Panchito," José brushed the sleep out of his eyes.

Donald stared at José in confusion, and Victor turned his head to look at him too. "What?"

"That night you stayed with us," José fidgeted slightly until his brother bent down and put him on the ground. "He was upset,"

Donald remembered that, and he still felt guilty about it. Panchito had looked so upset even in his sleep, and Donald had felt horrible that he hadn't even noticed that something was wrong until José had told him so. "He was homesick, right?"

"Ah, a little," José said, his eyes uncertain. "He did miss his family, but he missed you too."

"Missed me?" Donald frowned. "I was right there."

"It didn't feel like it," José said bluntly. "You were with your sister."

"...So?" Donald said, though he had a pretty good idea of where José was going with this. Donald remembered the inexplicable anger he'd felt seeing Panchito interact with Romero. The two of them had just been acting like cousins,protective, teasing, comforting, and just overall familially. There was no reason for Donald to get upset like this, but he did.

Donald looked at the ground. "...Panchito felt like this?"

José nodded. "He thought you didn't need him anymore."

Donald flinched. "...what?" Donald didn't think he had done anything wrong, but he felt absolutely horrible anyways. He felt like if it weren't for him, Panchito wouldn't have felt so lost and hurt. How could he hurt his friend like that? How could he hurt his bro-

"Donald?" Uncle Scrooge came back out of the house. "What are you doing out here?"

"I don't...I don't know!" Donald shut his eyes tightly and clenched his hands into fists to try to get them to stop shaking. He wanted to stop feeling so horrible about what had happened before, but he couldn't. He completely understood why Panchito had been jealous that he was with Della. Panchito had been calling him hermano from the start, he had felt like they were family. Panchito's feelings made sense. Donald's, though, didn't. He had insisted really harshly that they weren't brothers, and yet here he was, feeling hurt in what was apparently the same way. What right did he have to feel like this?

"Lad," Uncle Scrooge took Donald's hand and pulled him down to sit on the patio. "What's on your mind?" Donald shook his head harshly and still didn't open his eyes. He felt Uncle Scrooge put his hands on his face, steadying him. "Donald, look at me," It wasn't very often that Uncle Scrooge used this gentle but stern tone with him. He slowly opened his eyes to see Uncle Scrooge kneeling in front of him, concern in his eyes. "Don't get frustrated with your frustrations. It's okay to be upset about something-"

"No, it's not!" Donald tried to knock his hand against his leg, but Uncle Scrooge stopped him. "I shouldn't be jealous. I-I shouldn't…"

"Do you think that Panchito wasn't allowed to be jealous of Della?" Uncle Scrooge asked gently. Donald flinched slightly.

"O-of course it's allowed," Donald frowned. But he...Panchito sees me as his hermano. I-I don't...I don't see him like that." Donald's voice faltered at the end.

Uncle Scrooge raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure?"

"I-I don't," Donald insisted weakly. "I-I love Panchito, but it's different then how I feel about Della."

"Well, of course it is, lad," Uncle Scrooge said with a small smile. "Compared to how long you've known your sister, you haven't known Panchito very long at all. You're close to him, but time does change the nature of relationships."

"What do you mean?" Donald asked. Uncle Scrooge hummed thoughtfully.

"Well, you love your great-grandfather, don't you?" Uncle Scrooge asked. Donald nodded quickly. "Do you love him the same way you love me, or your sister?"

"I...no, I guess I don't." Donald's eyes widened in realization. "So I don't have to feel the same way about my sister and my…" Donald swallowed thickly. "My brother?"

"Of course not, lad," Uncle Scrooge ruffled his feathers. "Trust me, I love both of my sisters equally, but I do not love them in the same way."

Donald felt a shaky smile slip onto his face. It was one thing to hear Uncle Scrooge's reassurances, and another to hear that he actually had experience with this kind of thing. "O-okay." Donald brushed some stray tears away from his eyes with the palm of his hand.

"Come on," Uncle Scrooge stood up and pulled Donald do his feet. "Let's go inside now, okay? I promise, we won't be here for long. Coot has already started telling Panchito's family about the situation.

Donald nodded and let his uncle pull him inside. He noticed that Victor and José weren't out there anymore. They must have gone inside when Uncle Scrooge had first come out. Donald didn't feel quite ready to rejoin the whole group, but he didn't want to avoid them anymore. He could do this.

Uncle Scrooge immediately lead Donald to the main room, where everybody had crowded in. Donald could tell immediately that Great-grandpa Coot had already told them what had happened. Panchito's mother seemed really distressed, and she was holding Panchito close to her. There were two more roosters in the room, one of them had his hand on María's shoulder and was looking sternly at Great-grandpa Coot. The other rooster was standing just behind Romero. Their fathers.

"We just got mi pollito back," María's voice shook, but she was fierce. She wasn't going to let her little boy go so easily. "I don't want to lose him."

"I understand," Ana took María's hand. "I'm struggling with letting my boy go too, but we have to put our boys first. If they're in danger, and letting them go is the only way to keep them safe, then we have to do what's best for them, no matter how much it hurts."

María let out a short sob and held Panchito closer to her. She looked up at her husband. They both looked upset, but there was a strong look in their eyes that Donald saw all the time in his own parents' eyes, and even in Uncle Scrooge's. Nothing was going to stop them from doing what they thought was best for their child.

After a tense moment María nodded and kissed Panchito's forehead. "Mijo...mijo…" María looked up at Great-grandpa Coot, and then moved her gaze over to Uncle Scrooge. "If anything happens to him while he's with you-" Donald felt shivers go down his spine. Protective mothers were scary.

"We'll keep him safe," Uncle Scrooge promised. "Nothing's going to happen to any of our boys, not if there's anything I can do about it."

Panchito looked up at his mother and then over to Donald with an almost shy smile. "Hola, her-mico." Donald flinched slightly. This was the second time today that Panchito was stopping himself from calling Donald 'hermano'. Did he still think that Donald didn't want him to call him that? Donald had never had any complaints about the nickname, not ever, and he really didn't want Panchito to stop.

"Hola, b-br-brother." Donald stammered. This would take some getting used to.

Panchito's eyes widened and for a moment they just stared at each other. The moment went on for so long that Donald was almost worried that he had said the wrong thing, and that Panchito would want him to take it back. He was about to do just that when Panchito leapt to his feet and pushed past the crowd in the room. Panchito ran right up to Donald and practically tackled him into an embrace.

"H-hermano," Panchito laughed shakily. "Hermano,"

"Yeah," Donald agreed as he leaned closer to Panchito. "Hermano," Donald and Panchito held on to each other, even as the conversation continued on around them.

"How long until you have to leave?" Panchito's father asked. "You said it wasn't safe for too long,"

"The sooner the better," Uncle Scrooge said. He put his hands on Donald and Panchito's shoulders, encouraging them to pull away from each other. "Why don't you say goodbye to your family?" Uncle Scrooge looked at Panchito, who nodded stiffly and turned back towards his family. He walked towards his parents, but then paused and looked at his uncle in slight confusion.

"Where'd Romero go?" Panchito asked.

"Aquí," Romero came back into the room, a guitar in his hands. Romero walked up to Panchito and held it out to him. "I couldn't let you leave without this,"

"...Tu guitarra?" Panchito looked up at his cousin in disbelief. "But-"

"No arguments," Romero shoved the guitar into Panchito's hands. "You were always better at it than I was. You should have it."

Panchito held the guitar almost reverently. He looked reluctant, but he didn't make any more arguments. "Gracias, primo," Romero gave Panchito a small smile and pulled him into a tight hug. Donald watched them for a moment before he turned away. He felt like he should give Panchito some privacy. He turned and looked towards José's family instead, and was surprised to see that the youngest parrot was holding Victor's umbrella in his hands. Donald hadn't seen that umbrella leave Victor's hands.

It was entirely possible that Victor had just given José the umbrella to hold for a moment, but the way that José was clutching it, staring at it like it was the most important thing in his life, told Donald otherwise.

"I guess your brother had the same idea as Romero did." Donald commented as he come over to José.

"He thinks it will keep me safe," José said. "It makes his magic stronger, and Victor says I can figure out how to do the same thing,"

"That would be cool," Donald said. He looked over his shoulder towards Uncle Scrooge. "Just be careful about it around my Uncle." It would take more than just the Carioca family's magic being used to save them to convince Uncle Scrooge to let go of his stubborn hatred of magic. "Why's Victor giving it to you now instead of when we're in Duckburg?"

José's grip on the umbrella tightened as he looked up towards his family. "Minha mão has work tomorrow. They have to go home." Donald winced sympathetically. It was hard enough that José had known that he would have to say goodbye to his family, and now it was happening a lot sooner than he had thought. That was tough.

"Don't worry, you're not going to be away from them forever," Donald said. "And at least we'll be safe, right?"

"Right," José said, though he didn't look entirely convinced. Donald didn't blame him. José was being dragged into this whole thing in a different way than Panchito and Donald had been. He also wasn't as close to Donald and Panchito as they were to each other, so he probably felt like he couldn't rely on them nearly as much as they could on each other. Donald felt really bad for him, but he didn't know what else he could do for him, other than be there.

Who knows, maybe Panchito was right when he'd claimed that José was their hermano too. Now that Donald was starting to feel okay with having a brother that he wasn't exactly related to, he could see himself being open to accepting another.

Great-grandpa Coot came closer to the two of them and knelt down in front of them. "Are you two ready to go?"

Donald looked at José before turning to look towards Panchito, who was approaching them, a somber look on his face. Panchito slowly looked up at Donald, who smiled slightly at him, trying to be encouraging. Panchito gave him a slow smile in return.

"We'd better get going if we want to get home before dark," Uncle Scrooge said. Donald knew that Sheldgoose would be just as likely to go after them in broad daylight as he would in the middle of the night, but he knew that he would feel a lot safer if they were back at Mcduck Manor before dark.

"I'm ready," Panchito fingered a chord on his guitar, thought he didn't actually play a note. José didn't say anything, but he nodded. Donald took a deep breath and put his right hand on Panchito's left, and his left hand on José's right. They were leaving their families. Donald had to be strong for them.

"Yeah," Donald said as he looked up at his Great-grandpa Coot and Uncle Scrooge. "Let's go home."