"Guten morgen, Scroogie!"

Ludwig Von Drake cheerfully breezed into Scrooge's hospital room, a stack of mail in his hands. Scrooge, sitting cross-armed and stern on his bed, harrumphed.

"The only good morning I'll have will be the morning when they let me oot of here!" he growled.

Ludwig chuckled. "You've only been here two days!"

"Two days too many," Scrooge mumbled. "What've ye brought me today?"

"Oh, just a few things," said Ludwig, sitting down in a chair and filing through the stack of mail. "Dere's your 'Billionaires Bi-Annually' magazine, junk mail—you may already have vun 23,000!—more soliciting junk mail, junk mail, bills—"

"Are y'trying tae give me another heart attack?!" Scrooge cried.

"Ach, sorry!" Ludwig handed the stack of mail to Scrooge, who took it begrudgingly. "You'll be happy to know dat I have good news, too!"

"I doubt it," said Scrooge gloomily. "Like I just said, the only thing that'll make me happy is hearing—"

"—dat you've been let outta here, I know!" Ludwig finished. "And dat's da good news! Da doctors vere saying ven I first came in dat dey t'ink you're about vell enough to go home!"

"Ye're not pulling my leg, are you?" Scrooge asked suspiciously.

"Vell, da general consensus seemed to be dat vith how much you're complaining here, you'd probably be better off at home anyvay! Or, in your case, your money bin. Ha ha!"

"Definitely the money bin," moaned Scrooge. "The last thing I want tae do is walk back into that disaster waiting to happen at the mansion! My family is about the last—"

"Ach, but hold it right dere!" Ludwig interrupted.

"Ye've fallen into a bad habit of interrupting me," grumbled Scrooge.

"And you'll be happy to know dat Donald is progressing marvelously in his therapy, Huey 'aced', as da young people call it, a pop quiz in school yesterday, Vebby is no longer dating and seems to be treating Dewey normally, Louie… vell, he's still Louie…"

"What about Della?" Scrooge asked, unconvinced.

Ludwig smiled softly. "She… left."

"Left?"

"Yes—she took her t'ings and just left! All she said vas dat she didn't want to impose on you or da boys anymore, so she vas going to find a homeless shelter and start over."

"Blow me bagpipes," Scrooge murmured to himself. "She finally has grown up."

"Yes, she showed remarkable progress in a short amount of time! But, you know…" Ludwig gave Scrooge a knowing smile. "Someone ought to tell her dat growing up doesn't necessarily mean having to leave your family behind."

Scrooge folded his arms and tried his best to look agitated. "Stop trying tae play the 'family sympathy' card on me!"

"Vy not? It's verking!" chuckled Ludwig.

Scrooge's face softened. It was no secret that he championed fighting one's way through life, to earn one's life on one's own terms, by being "tougher than the toughies and smarter than the smarties". And yet… for the longest time, even after becoming the richest duck in the world… something was still… missing.

By the time he realized it was family, he had precious little family left.

"What do you expect me tae do about it?" Scrooge suddenly demanded harshly. "She's got tae make decisions for herself!"

"Oh, yes!" said Ludwig, sounding strangely sarcastic. "Because all da most important decisions in life are made wit' no help from anyone vatsoever! I don't even know vy presidents and prime ministers and all dose verld leaders have so many advisors, since obviously dey're making all dose important decisions on dere own—"

"Alright, alright!" cried Scrooge. "I'll think about it! After all," he added, quietly, "she is family… and despite how much she frustrates me, I do care about her… I just want her tae take care of herself for once!"

"And she is," reminded Ludwig. "Now all you have to do is give her your support! She t'inks you can't stand her, you know!"

"Completely unfounded, I'm sure," said Scrooge, in a mock-serious tone.

He and Ludwig kept their locked mock-serious stares for about two seconds before both bursting into laughter.

"Come on, now," Ludwig said, still laughing, "you've learned how to put up vith Donald, Della can't be any more difficult!"

O.o.O

Donald, in fact, seemed to be taking a page from his sister's book at that very moment, folding clothes and placing them in a suitcase in a semi-orderly fashion.

"Can't wait to get out of here, huh?"

"Wak!" Donald jerked back in surprise, upsetting his suitcase. His clothing fell scattered on the floor.

Huey, the intruder, chuckled apologetically. "Sorry 'bout that, Unk."

"For your information," Donald growled testily, "Uncle Ludwig said that I'm making a lot of progress in my therapy, and while I enjoy your company, I'm just getting ready for when I get to go back home and… start to put my life back together."

"You sound like Mom," said Huey. "Or, at least, what she allegedly said."

Donald sighed, not overlooking Huey's slightly miffed tone. Della had left that morning without saying good-bye to anyone but Ludwig—and she probably wouldn't have said anything to him either if he hadn't caught her in the act of leaving. "Would it surprise you to know that I think your mom leaving was one of the most mature things she's ever done?"

Huey laughed. "Come on, Uncle Donald, what do you know about maturity?"

"Plenty!" cried Donald, offended.

"Calm down, I was just joking," said Huey quickly. "And no, it doesn't surprise me… I agree, really." He sat down on the bed and looked out the window thoughtfully. "I guess if I was in her situation, I would have done the same thing. And I really don't know why it bothers me so much that she's gone…"

Donald smiled too, and sat down next to his nephew. "It's because she's your mother."

Huey stared at Donald with an "are-you-kidding-me?" look. "What does that have to do with how I feel about her?"

"A lot," said Donald. "My mother drove me crazy, but I always knew that she only acted the way she did was because she loved your mom and me. And it doesn't seem right to not return your mother's affection, after all she's done for you."

"My mother's done nothing for me," muttered Huey.

"Your mother went to jail for you," said Donald.

Huey blinked in shock, and Donald laughed. "Never thought of it that way, did you?"

"That still doesn't excuse her actions!" cried Huey.

"Excuse, no. Explain, yes." Donald chuckled again at Huey's continued shocked expression. "Don't get me wrong, I think she was a moron for what she did. But… I can understand why she did it. I'd do the same thing for my children, if I had any. I'd do the same thing for you boys."

Huey couldn't say anything to that. Donald hugged him in a more than friendly but not overly sappy manner befitting an uncle and his teenaged nephew. "Sometimes people just can't help being moronic."

"Spoken from experience, I'm sure," said Huey playfully, returning the hug.

"What good is experience if you don't learn from it?" Donald slid off the bed and began to gather his clothes. "Now are you going to help me put all this back? Seeing as it's your fault it's all on the floor in the first place?"

"Ahem, Mr. Duck." Duckworth was standing in the doorway. "You have a visitor at the front door."

"Better yet, you can put it back yourself!" cried Donald, following Duckworth out of the room.

Huey rolled his eyes. "I wonder what it would be like to have normal relatives…"

O.o.O

It was only during the walk to the front door that Donald began to wonder just who his visitor was—after all, he had few friends, and the ones he did have probably didn't know he was at his uncle's house. So he quickened his pace, jutting out ahead of Duckworth—only to freeze in his tracks when he saw who was waiting for him.

Daisy shuffled her feet, a bit apologetically. "Hello, Donald."

"What… what do you want?" Donald said, only afterwards realizing that she might not be there to chew him out… although now she probably would, thanks to the tone he had just taken with her.

She scowled a bit, but only for a moment. "I want to apologize for lashing out at you. I read the paper about your uncle's heart attack, and… I realize that you must have been under a lot of stress. I shouldn't have made it worse for you. So… I'm sorry."

Donald's joints stiffened in agitation—now there's a dilly of a problem—let her believe a more flattering lie, or admit to her the real, ugly truth?

He finally sighed in resignation, his conscience having won that particular battle. "Daisy, as convenient as it would be to let you believe that was the reason for my actions, the truth is I didn't know about my uncle's heart attack until after you left. Actually, as it turns out, it wasn't even until after I attacked my sister."

"You attacked your sister?" cried Daisy, aghast.

"I couldn't help it!" cried Donald. "I was angry at her! She ruined my chances with Danielle—she ruined my chances with you!"

"If you were so concerned with winning me back, why did you decide to date the first broad you met?" Daisy demanded, right in Donald's face.

"Phooey, there's nothing wrong with me going on a date, now that I'm single! And I'm only single because you made it that way!"

"Well, I certainly didn't start playing the field so soon after we broke up!"

"Of course you didn't! I didn't see a personal ad from you in the paper, and cousin Gladstone's been married for more than four years now!"

"Why you insolent little—"

Daisy flung her arms at out Donald, but Donald was quicker than her, grabbing her and holding her in a deadlock. The two struggled against each other for a few moments, neither willing to budge.

But suddenly, Daisy let out a small laugh. "You know, I really missed fighting with you like this."

Donald's shock only lasted for a second before he smiled, despite himself. "Yeah, fighting with my sister just wasn't the same. For one thing, it was way more violent…"

"You know if we stay together, the fighting won't stop," said Daisy softly.

"Yeah, I know," Donald replied. "But I… I've gotten used to that from you. I like that about you."

"I'm glad you feel the same way," smiled Daisy.

Their deadlocks on each other's arms had become a hug without either of them realizing it.

"And I'm also sorry for not realizing it sooner," said Daisy, whispering the words into Donald's neck. "So I was wondering… would you marry me? If you think you can put up with me arguing with you over every miniscule detail of the wedding, and of how we raise our kids, and over finances, and—"

Donald interrupted her with a kiss.

Huey, Dewey, Louie, and Webby, who were watching from the next room, gave a loud cheer, but the lovebirds were so enraptured with each other that they didn't notice.

"Didja guys hear what Daisy said?" said Dewey excitedly. "We might be getting cousins in the next few years!"

"I hope they don't expect us to babysit them," moaned Huey.

Webby made a face. "Jeez, your uncle and his girlfriend are crazy! If this is what romance is like, I'm glad I got out of the dating scene while I still could!"

Louie sighed dreamily. "Isn't it great?"

O.o.O

Della hadn't even been in the homeless shelter an entire day and she was already sick—homesick.

Well, okay, so Uncle Scrooge's mansion technically wasn't home. Really, she didn't even have a home. Hence the homeless shelter! It made perfect sense. And yet, even though she knew she was—for maybe the first time in her life—doing the right thing, her body still ached with sadness. She missed her boys. She missed Uncle Ludwig. She missed Uncle Scrooge. Heck, she even missed Donald.

But who said her absence from them had to be permanent? She could always see them again once she got a job and place of her own. That shouldn't be too hard… right? She only had… you know, eleven years of jail time, plus the recent night of jail thanks to her public fight with her brother… along with no job above a janitorial position…

Oh, who was she fooling?

She flipped through the help wanted ads, trying to not get her hopes up. Maybe someone would be willing to hire her when they learned that she'd be doing volunteer work while at the homeless shelter. Yeah, that might work out! They might realize that she's trying to turn her life around.

"Why are ye looking for a job when y've got a perfectly good one at my money bin?"

Della dropped the paper and spun around in surprise. "Uncle Scrooge! What—what are you doing here? Shouldn't you still be at the hospital?"

Scrooge laughed. "The doctors thought it would be in the best interests of everyone's health tae let me go."

"Look, I don't know what you're doing here, but I'm sick of living with you like a child, so no matter what you say, I'm not coming back to live in your mansion—"

"Good!" said Scrooge. "You know how I hate freeloaders."

"Then what are you doing here?"

Scrooge motioned towards the couch. "Sit down. I need tae talk with you."

Uncle and niece positioned themselves on the couch, Della with stiff formality and uncertainness. "Ye haven't lost your job," Scrooge said right after sitting down, getting right to the point. "As if I would let a hard worker like you leave so quickly!"

"But I was in jail for a night!" Della blurted out, before remembering that Uncle Ludwig had instructed her to not mention that little detail to Uncle Scrooge.

But Scrooge was unaffected. "I know that. I read the public record in the newspaper every day, you know—crime and accidents affect the economy! So you were in jail for a night. And I was in the hospital for two days. But life goes on."

"But I've screwed up," Della insisted. "I've screwed everything up, and I don't deserve that job."

Scrooge snorted. "Della, if making mistakes means that you don't deserve even a miniscule chance at success, then I should be dead by now, and not the world's richest duck. We all make mistakes, lassie… and I've probably made more mistakes than anyone I know. Mistakes don't define who we are as a person. It's what we choose tae learn from them that counts." He smiled at her, a genuine smile. "I've misjudged you, lass. Y've really grown up. Y're finally willing tae take responsibility for your actions."

Della stared at him in amazement. "You mean you've… forgiven me?"

"Yes…" Scrooge hesitated. "But don't think that means that I'll tolerate you reverting tae your old self!" His face softened into a smile. "I joost don't want you making the same mistakes I did. Family is important, Della. Don't go abandoning them when they aren't even upset at you."

"But you said you hate freeloaders!"

"Della, there's a huge difference between supporting yourself and completely isolating yourself! I realized this almost too late in life—don't you be taking as long as I did tae figure it oot!"

Della slowly smiled. "Don't worry, Uncle Scrooge… I think I'm learning."

She hugged him, and his return hug reassured her that she had indeed gotten what she wanted, what she wanted but didn't deserve, what she was determined to not screw up this time…

Another chance.

THE END

O.o.O

AN:

Well, to risk sounding like a broken record, I'm sorry again for how long it took for me to finish this! I got the whole story finished in less than two years, though, so that has to count for something, right? (Actually, I think it's a new record for me, and it's only gonna get worse, because my attention span has of late dwindled down to next to—hey, look over there! (runs off))

Thank you all for reading this! I'll admit it's hard for me to write stories with happy endings… I've turned myself into an angst-bucket and just don't know how to deal with them, making my more upbeat stories like this one (yes, this is one of my more upbeat stories) increasingly difficult to write. To everyone who read and/or reviewed, again, thank you very much! I only hope you all got something from this story, if only enjoyment, and I hope I was able to learn from it as well.

So thanks bunches, and remember, "Life is like a hurricane…"

-Commander