Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gyro rubbed his eye and yawned, glancing over when he heard the familiar buzzing noise of his phone.

With a sigh, he picked it up. He would usually ignore it- it was too much of a distraction- but the text was from Della. He’d learned from experience that she would just keep texting until he answered. 

9:36 P.M.

DELLA: dude u coming? were gonna start without u

Gyro ran a hand back through his hair, leaning back in his chair at his desk in the empty lab under Scrooge McDuck’s money Bin. He’d forgotten he’d told the Duck cousins he would come watch the latest released Harry Parrot movie, it was the fourth one in the series. 

GYRO G.: I forgot, sorry. I won’t be able to make it.

DELLA: awww why not?

GYRO G.: You know why. The deadline is in two weeks.

DELLA: uuughhh who even cares? just come hang out. i’ll even let you bring some black licorice…

GYRO G.: You can’t just bribe me into it with licorice. And how do you know I don’t already have some here?

DELLA: because ur lame and u never bring candy to the lab

GYRO G.: Fine, you caught me. But I won’t be able to make it tonight, sorry. Maybe after this stupid machine is finished in a few weeks. 

DELLA: wow you must be really tired of this thing if youre calling it stupid

GYRO G.: I haven’t had time for a normal sleep schedule in a month. 

GYRO G.: ‘Tired of it’ is an understatement.

DELLA: ugh that machine is so stupid. why are u still doing it anyway?

GYRO G.: Because Mr. McDuck asked me to, obviously.

DELLA: just tell uncle scrooge its too much

GYRO G.: I already got this far, I don’t want to give up now. 

DELLA: ok, i guess. do you want us to wait for you?

GYRO G.: Nah, go ahead and watch it. I can come watch it later. Isn’t Fethry leaving soon anyway? Watch it with him while you can.

DELLA: ok. ttyl! love you!!! <3

GYRO G.: Love you too, Dels. 

DELLA: HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT?!

GYRO G.: Exactly 87 times. 

DELLA: huh, i thought it was more than that... but stOP CALLING ME THAT.

GYRO G.: Good night, Dellie.

DELLA: >:(

Gyro laughed as he set his phone back down, then turned to the machine before him, the one he’d been working on for the last two months. Sleek and shiny, it was about as big as a large retro TV set. It had a circular base that was about four feet in diameter, rising up at an ablge for about a foot before leveling off like a plateau. Three spires ran two feet upwards from three separate edges, then arced down suddenly and ending in a sharp two-pronged fork. 

He ran his fingers over the name emblazoned on the side of the platform.

Ego Machine

It was nearly ready. 

The Duckburg University had requested a special machine for their students to be able to ‘split the complex personalities of gnats,’ and Scrooge had asked Gyro to build it. Of course the inventor had said yes, the more random and creative the idea, the more interested he was in it. By now he was tired of working on it, but at least it was better than building another car. 

Looking it over one last time, Gyro continued what he’d started before Della texted.

Testing it.

 He wasn’t expecting it to go right the first time, but he needed to see exactly what he was doing wrong to be able to fix that. And he always had plenty of gnat test subjects, caught by him and Della on the grounds of McDuck Manor.

He climbed to his feet and walked over to the tiny habitat at the edge of the lab, yawning. It was late, and he was tired, but it would be nice to get this done before he turned in. Gyro pulled a special petri dish out of his pocket, one that had a second mesh lid under the normal plastic one. It was designed so that after the plastic lid was removed, the mesh underneath would be able to let the ray of the ego machine pass through without letting the gnat out. 

Opening a small door on the side of the habitat Gyro used a net to easily catch three gnats, quickly pulling both lids off the dish and putting the bugs inside, managing to screw the lids back on before any escaped. They plinked against the side of the glass, confused at the sudden change in the space around them.

After closing the habitat without any other gnats escaping, Gyro walked back over to the machine. He set the petri dish down in the middle of the platform, and checked if the prongs were angled right. 

Everything was in place. 

Gyro picked up the remote control. It currently was simply just a small box with a switch, but he planned on adding more features to it once he was sure the machine actually worked.

Looking over one everything one last time, a jolt of excitement ran through him. 

He wasn’t finished, this was simply just the first test, but he was almost there. After this it would just take a few more tests and adjustments, and he could finally move on to something new.

Besides, there came the thrill of something going right. Of one of his inventions coming to life (whether figuratively or literally), and Gyro watching excitingly as everything worked smoothly. It was a sense of satisfaction that Gyro would never get tired of. 

Stepping closer, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves, then flipped the switch. 

It whirred to life, and only seconds later arcs of strange violet electricity shot from the six prongs, combining in the air above the middle of the machine before shooting downwards to hit the petri dish. 

Gyro realized with a shock that he’d forgotten to take the top lid of the petri dish off. 

He leapt forward to yank it out of the way, but it was too late. The bolts reflected off of the top of the dish, and now that he was hovering over it, they shot upwards to hit him full in the face. 

Gyro screeched and reeled back, tripping over his feet and landing hard on his tail feathers. Luckily he’d closed his eyes so the bolt hadn’t blinded him, but there was a strange sensation spreading through his body. It felt suddenly like his weight had increased tenfold, almost like the force of gravity on him had escalated dramatically. 

There came something tickling at the back of his mind, a presence pressing against the edge of his consciousness. He didn’t know what it was, but there was no way he was going to let it in.

Leaning forward to support himself on his hands, Gyro crouched down further, trying to form mental walls around himself and press the darkness back, but it was no use. 

It was stronger than he was. 

As it forced its way across his consciousness, Gyro could pick out that it was made up of many different emotions, swirling around themselves as they expanded. Fear, hate, sadness, jealousy, anger… All of them flashed through his mind, leaving him drained as he felt each one in a span of mere seconds.

Suddenly the emotions expanded, and Gyro cried out. A faint noise started building in his ears, he clamped his hands over them. The ringing quickly got louder and louder, before it drowned out the sounds of his gasps. It brought with it an incredibly painful pressure.

From the center of the darkness and emotions, a much darker form began to take shape, morphing into a strange look. He didn’t know what it was, but it felt bad. Gyro tried to fight back against it, to visualize it leaving, or just try to ignore it.

Stop fighting, Gyro. 

I’m everything you need to be.

What the hell did that mean? What was going on? What was this?

In spite of the figure’s assurances, Gyro continued to fight back against it as much as he could. As far as he knew, dark entities forming in one’s mind were never good things. 

But it was too strong for him.

Gyro got out one last scream,

Before his consciousness disappeared. 

The chicken crouched on the floor of the lab slowly and gingerly collected itself, coming to rest on its hands and knees. 

It raised its head, looking out at the space around it. Its eyes were an unusually bright green, there was a sort of deeper and darker emotion in them. They sparkled strangely in the light.

The bird stood, a smile forming on its beak. 

“Don’t worry, darling.”

It ran a hand back through its hair, fluffing it up from its head. 

“I’ve got it from here.” 

--Sixteen Years Later--

Gyro felt arms wrap tightly around him, and a chin coming to rest on his shoulder. He leaned his head against the other bird’s temple, smiling softly. “You’re headed home?”

“Mm hm,” Fenton made a quiet noise of affirmation. “I need to get some sleep. You should too.” In the last week or so, the duck had been busy with Gizmoduck duties, and had recently set a bedtime for himself so he could get enough sleep to patrol during the day. There’d been an ‘anonymous’ tip-off (a letter had shown up at the police station, signed with a muffin scribble in the corner and clearly written with a pink glitter pen) that a certain abandoned Glomgold office building was being used as a hideout for an illegal organization, and the police had immediately investigated and ended up arresting quite a lot of Eggheads. The ones who’d gotten away were being tracked down with the help of Gizmoduck. “You’re starting to look like the Mad Ducktor.” Fenton added, teasing.

Gyro self-consciously traced the circles under his eyes, which, now that Fenton pointed it out, he realized they could’ve rivaled those of his clone’s. “Am not!” 

Fenton gave a soft skeptical hum. “You need sleep.”

“I will soon,” Gyro promised, setting down his pencil and leaning back in the office chair he was sitting in. The lab around him was mostly dark, it was just past midnight. “I have to finish this. Oh, have you seen the clone spray?”

“What?!” Fenton practically yelped right in Gyro’s ear, startled. “You still have that? You know if the Mad Ducktor-”

“I know, I know, that’s why I want to find it, so I can get rid of it. There was some I never used, and Mads will probably freak out if he discovers I still have it. But I can’t find it anywhere.”

“I haven’t seen it. But could it have been destroyed when F.O.W.L. blew the lab up?”

Gyro’s brow furrowed. “Hm, probably. I guess that did it for me then, and I don’t have to face Mads’ wrath.”

It got quiet for a moment, before Fenton kissed his husband’s temple. “At least take a break right now, if you’re not going to sleep?” 

“Fen…” 

“C’mon, mi amor. Lil’ Bulb told me he wanted to go crab-hunting down at the shore, right Lil’ Bulb?” They both looked over at the robot, who was standing on the edge of the desk. 

Lil’ Bulb looked up as he heard his name, blinking. “I do not recall-”

“Right Lil’ Bulb?” Fenton repeated pointedly. 

The little robot glanced between Fenton and Gyro, looking a little confused. “Yes, I suppose that would be enjoyable.”

Gyro snorted. “Fenton-”

“I’ll make you some coffee to take down there before I go, just at least go to clear your mind or something. Don’t come back until it’s finished though.” He kissed Gyro’s temple again before pulling away.

“I guess I could use a break…” Gyro said, sitting up and stretching. 

“See?” Fenton said as he walked away. 

Gyro smiled, flopping back in the office chair and staring off into space as he thought. It was late, he was tired, and he probably should go back with Fenton… No, he wanted to hurry and finish this. He could go home tomorrow morning when it was done. 

Home. 

Once upon a time, that word had meant nothing to Gyro. A home was just a house, a couple of walls with a roof created solely for the purpose of sheltering a living thing. He’d found it ridiculous when people tried to make it anything more than that. His house wasn’t even all that exciting, it was where he would sleep- which he used to think was an annoying waste of time, after all, he could be in the lab working instead of doing nothing- and occasionally feed a stray cat, but that was it. He preferred his lab much more, especially on the off occasion that he got to sneak a stray cat into it. 

Now though?

Now he knew it was so much more than that. Now he couldn’t wait to get back home. Back to his family, back to the familiar rooms chock-full of memories. Back to the dozens of pictures on the walls, back to the cats, back to the new piano, which had been a gift from someone Gyro was happy to call a friend. 

Most of all, it was back where his two favorite people lived. Where they lived with him. Gyro could hardly believe it. Before, he thought he would never want to live with anyone- that sounded like an invasion of privacy, not to mention the headache of having to put up with another living person- but even more shocking, it’d never occurred to him that someone would actually want to live with him. And while he still wished there was a way around sleeping, he found it was worth it to wake up next to Fenton, with Boyd bursting in the room, ready for the day. 

Fenton returned a minute later with a steaming paper cup, putting the lid on as he walked back. “Here.”

Gyro stood and Fenton set the cup down on the desk, before pulling Gyro close and softly kissed him. Gyro quickly reciprocated, and the duck wrapped his arms around him and dipped Gyro, still kissing him. 

The inventor squawked against Fenton’s beak, and the duck giggled, pulling back a little to better look Gyro in the eyes. “You need some sleep, if that was enough to startle you.” He teased. 

Which was true, Fenton dip-kissed him enough when they were alone that Gyro should’ve seen it coming. “I know, I know, I will.” 

“Now?” Fenton asked pleadingly. 

“Soon,” Gyro replied, leaning up to press their foreheads together. Fenton was still holding him up. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” Fenton said, and Gyro chuckled. 

They straightened up, and Fenton handed Gyro his cup. “Thanks.” The inventor said as he took it. “I won’t be long. I’ll see you soon.”

“You had better not take long.” Fenton said with a smile. “G’night.” 

“Goodnight, love you.”

“Love you too.” 

They kissed again before grabbing their coats and going their separate ways, Fenton to the elevator and Gyro and Lil’ Bulb to the stairs, Gyro heading to the parking garage. His footsteps were loud and echoing in the large empty garage, and he headed for the small exit at the back.

Gyro punched in the code to open the door, then propped it open with a stray cinder block, left over from the time they’d had to repair the wall from a Beagle Boy attack. He stepped through as Lil’ Bulb leapt down off his shoulder, disappearing immediately in the high grass on the shore.

The inventor walked to the edge of the beach, just out of reach of the wet sand. His coffee was the perfect temperature, Fenton somehow always knew how to make it just right. Gyro sat down, closing his eyes for a moment and relishing in the feeling of the sea air blowing in his face, whisking through his feathers. 

It was late January and the weather was quite cold, it hadn’t snowed in a few days, but it’d come close. Gyro was thankful for the hot cup to keep his hands warm. He sat in the sand, looking out at the scenery.

From here there was a great view of the city, the water, and the sky, it was almost picturesque. From the way the stars twinkled and the moon shone bright over the multicolored lights, Gyro was pretty sure one of his sisters had had a photograph of something like this hung in her room at some point when they were kids. 

He sighed, setting his coffee in the sand next to him as he brought his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them. Maybe Fenton was right. Maybe he was overworking himself a little too much. It was nice to come out and take a breather. He hadn’t slept in a few days, and was exhausted.

Two years ago, a few nights without sleep wouldn’t have fazed him. He was used to running on little rest, he took pride in the fact that he didn’t get as tired as most people. 

But after adopting Boyd, and especially after Gyro and Fenton had started dating, the duck had been more persistent in getting Gyro to rest, and eventually Gyro had started a normal sleep schedule for himself. Now, two years later, he was tired after just one all-nighter. Going several nights without sleep left him incredibly exhausted.

His current project was some Gizmoduck-inspired weaponry, which he was saying could be used for anyone, but he mostly wanted to use it himself. The last time F.O.W.L. had attacked and had attempted to kidnap the Mad Ducktor it had felt incredible to finally be the strong one, the one who was supposed to get them all out of there. If F.O.W.L. or anyone else came after them again, Gyro wanted to be able to fight back, or at least keep himself from being the weak link damsel in distress. These weapons would be the way to do that.

Gyro’s coffee was gone all too soon, and he sighed, standing. He was enjoying this, being able to relax and think about something other than an invention, but he had to get back to it. It was strange how much had changed in such a short amount of time. Before, his inventions were all he wanted to think about. Now, he was making himself take a break from turning the plans over and over again in his mind.

He stared out at the water for several more minutes, lost in thought, not wanting to turn in. 

He didn’t see the figure suddenly jump down from the “Staff Only” sign above the door just behind him. He didn’t hear it land softly, the sound of the waves covering the noise of  pink-soled boots crunching in the sand. 

He didn’t hear the footsteps either, nor see a small purple light detaching itself from the figure and dropping to the ground, disappearing in the grass. 

Gyro only felt the arm around him, and the rag being pressed against his beak. He yelped and struggled for a moment, caught utterly unawares. 

It only took a few seconds for the world to go dark, and Gyro collapsed. 

The Mad Ducktor grinned as Gyro slumped into his arms, holding Gyro up with one arm as he stuffed the rag back in his pocket. He quickly lifted Gyro up, the inventor’s head falling against his shoulder. “Hm, sorry darling.” He said, the grin on his beak entirely contradicting his words. “It’s for the best.”

Mads looked up, holding Gyro against him. “Blacklight! Did you get him?”

Sure enough, the little lightbulb returned, dragging a lifeless version of itself behind them. Mads’ smile grew. “Excellent job. Neither of them saw it coming. Now let’s go!” 

The lightbulb climbed up the villain’s long back coat, pulling Lil’ Bulb up behind them. They settled on Gyro’s stomach, before the Mad Ducktor hit one of the buckles on his boots with his other heel, and shot off into the star-filled sky.

Gyro woke with a groan. 

He was sitting on a surprisingly comfortable surface, his back pressed against it and his head tipped back. He blinked, lifting his head and waiting as the world slowly came into focus. 

It didn’t take him long to notice that he was sitting back on an old couch, his wrists and ankles tied together, his arms behind his back.

The space around him was mostly dark, and the first thing Gyro noticed was the folding table not far from the couch. He was in an old wooden room, and faint outlines of equipment could be perceived at the edge of the room, mostly obscured by darkness.

He’d been through this before. 

He’d been kidnapped, yet again.

Gyro groaned, his head falling back against the couch. “Oh, screw me…” he grumbled. He knew the terror was going to set in in a moment, but right now he just felt annoyed. Why did this keep happening? Couldn’t people just leave him alone? Why was he always the one left helpless, waiting for either his superhero husband or his supervillain clone to come rescue him?

“Why darling, I’m shocked! I never thought you’d be so forward!” A voice came from behind the couch, and Gyro jumped, twisting as far around as he could with a squawk. 

“M-Mads!” Gyro squeaked, his eyes following the clone as he walked around to the front of the couch. His natural panic due to the situation diminished greatly, after seeing his kidnapper. “Uh… Ignore that. What do you want?” 

“Are you sure you want me to ignore that?” The Mad Ducktor asked, raising an eyebrow and grinning mischievously. 

Gyro pulled away from him as much as he could, slightly repulsed. “Yes. What do you want? What time is it?” 

“Hm, two in the morning.” Mads answered. “And I want you.”

The inventor scowled. “I know, we’ve been over that too many times. But why would you kidnap me? You could’ve just come by the lab.”

The Mad Ducktor burst out laughing. “No- that’s really why I captured you. I want you here with me.” 

“I can’t right now Mads, I have a project to finish-”

But he was cut off by more of Mads’ laughter. “You- you really think-” He broke off, still cackling. “We’ve really grown too familiar with each other, haven’t we?”

“What do you mean?” Gyro asked, he was now incredibly confused. Mads almost never kidnapped him, and by now surely their relationship was developed enough that his clone wasn’t going to hold him hostage. If Mads wanted to spend time with him, that would have to wait until later. He didn’t understand what was so funny. 

Mads studied Gyro, tilting his head. “You know, it only makes it more funny that you’re serious about this.” He took a few steps forward, standing over Gyro and looking down at him. “The thing is, I’m not playing. You’ve actually been kidnapped, you’re actually staying here with me.” 

“What?” Gyro asked, leaning back to look up at Mads. “You- you can’t- Why? You know I’d be miserable here with you, and you won’t be able to hold me here without hurting me at some point, which you can’t do.”

The Mad Ducktor leaned down to him, a smug grin on his face, like that of a hunter who had just cornered their prey. “Come now darling, that’s hurtful! Besides, what if I found a way to make it enjoyable for you?”

“You couldn’t.” Gyro grumbled. “You’d have to just let me go.”

Mads traced a hand along the underside of Gyro’s beak, the action sending ticklish shudders through Gyro’s feathers. “Oh darling, I’m not planning on letting you go.”

The inventor pulled back, glaring. “Why are you acting like this?” 

“Like what?” Mads asked, a hint of curiosity in his features. 

“You’re being weird and manipulatively evil, it usually means you’re going to kill someone or blow something up or-”

“Or attack a room full of people with a chandelier?” Mads suggested, smiling. Gyro was at least partially glad to see that the smile was genuine, it didn’t have any malintent in it. 

“Yes.” The inventor looked into his clone’s eyes. Despite Mads’ act, he wasn’t scared or unnerved by it, because he knew it was just that. An act. Mads was never like this when he was being genuine; while he did have a malicious streak, it was mostly teasing when it came to Gyro. “Why are you doing this?”

The Mad Ducktor finally pulled away, straightening up and taking a step back. “Hm, I have my reasons, darling.” 

“...Mind sharing them?” Gyro prompted, slightly annoyed at how vague the other bird was being. 

“Well, the first one is you’re here so I can convince you to join me-”

“Never going to happen.” Gyro immediately didn't let him finish. “Why would I?”

“Oh,” Mads waved a hand. “It’s because I have this.” With a speed that would’ve put the fastest draws in the Wild West to shame, he whipped a small laser gun from his coat, and fired a purple bolt at Gyro. 

Gyro gasped as it hit him, and a strange feeling spread through his body. It almost felt like he was being electrocuted, but not quite. His limbs suddenly felt heavy as his vision clouded, the edges going black. 

He looked up at Mads, who was stalking closer, smirking. “W-what was that?” 

Mads inspected the gun. “Oh, this little thing? Well… you’ll find out soon enough.” 

The darkness at the edge of Gyro’s vision was getting thicker, seeming to spread back through his head. He managed to summon enough of his thoughts to form words, however that was slightly hindered by his tongue feeling thick and heavy. “W-w-what-t w-wa-as t-t-that?” 

Mads leaned down to his level. “If you must know, then...” He held the gun down so Gyro could read the label on the side. 

Ego Machine II

Gyro had to read the words several times before his brain fully processed them, and when he did, the jolt of shock fought some of the darkness back, arcing though it like bright lightning. “W-what?!” 

The Mad Ducktor grinned. “You see, I realized that if I ever got what I wanted and finally was able to destroy Scrooge, you might suffer some of the backlash. He’s your employer, after all! We can’t have that happening, now can we? So if you were on my side, you’d be safe from that. I knew you wouldn’t be… enthusiastic about it at first, but this little device here could help you fit in right away.”

Gyro had to slowly piece the words together like a puzzle, his thoughts were scattered by the ever pressing darkness. “W-why are you d-doing this?”

“Darling, I just told you!” Mads said, chuckling. 

“But- I thought- You- After everything-” He hadn’t been expecting a betrayal from Mads on this level. He hadn’t expected anything like this, period. The ego machine was something from the past now, and it’s return was like a right hook to the gut. He’d thought that they were close enough that Mads wouldn’t even consider turning on him like this, his shock didn’t help the scattered emotions zooming around his head.

He was brought back to reality by a hand under his beak, tilting it upwards to gaze into the bright green eyes inches away from his. “You thought what, darling?”

I thought you’d never do this.

I thought you were better than that. 

I thought you were going to actually consider my feelings.

I thought you knew what this feeling of losing control of your emotions was like.

I thought you knew that it’s absolutely terrifying.

I thought we’d figured out our relationship.

I thought you were a friend.

Gyro didn’t answer. He couldn't answer. He remembered this feeling. The darkness, the weight… It was something he’d gone through once and re-lived in his nightmares for years afterwards. He could feel the hurt, anger, sadness, stress… all of it, build up heavily in the back of his mind, and let out a screech.

If he’d had his eyes open, he might’ve seen the Mad Ducktor flinch, or flicker of concern that crossed his face. The villain let go of his face, and Gyro fell back against the couch, writhing from the pressure in his head. 

“It’s for the best, darling.” The Mad Ducktor quietly assured him as he took a step back. 

Gyro hardly heard him. There was a loud ringing noise in his ears now, he shut his eyes tighter against the increasing pain. The darkness, merged with the negative emotions, began to take form. 

No no no no no no no no no...

He repeated the words over and over in his mind as the form became more clear. It was all he could think to do.

No no nononONONONONONO-

Stop fighting, Gyro. 

I’m everything you need to be.

NONONONONONONONONO-

He got out one last scream,

Then his consciousness disappeared. 

Mads watched, slightly concerned, as Gyro finally went still, falling limply against the couch. “Hm, that took longer than I thought it would.” He stepped closer, leaning down to press a kiss against Gyro’s forehead. Gyro had fought it harder than Mads had been expecting, which only dragged out the pain. “Sorry, darling. But you’ll thank me soon enough.”

---

Fenton woke up alone. 

He stretched out, expecting to feel Gyro next to him, and let out an annoyed grumble when he didn’t. Really, after he’d promised several times he’d be back soon, he still wasn’t home when the sun came up? Fenton should’ve tried harder to talk him into coming home. After lying there for a few minutes, the duck sat up, popped his back, and made his way out to the kitchen. 

Boyd was eating cereal at the kitchen counter, one of the cats, Marie, in his lap. There were a few other cats gathered around on the floor, waiting for him to accidentally drop something. “Did dad come home last night?” The parrot asked, carefully scooping a spoonful of cereal, determined not to let the cats steal it. 

Fenton shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“That’s the third time this week!” Boyd exclaimed. “Is he getting any sleep at all?”

Fenton sighed. “I don’t know. At this point I swear I’m going to go in there and drag him home by his tail feathers, this is getting ridiculous.”

“Papa!” Boyd squeaked, giggling. “Don’t do that, that would hurt!” 

“Yeah, well, if it gets him home…” He put an arm around Boyd, and kissed the little parrot’s forehead. “You’re okay staying at Huey’s again? I’m really sorry about this. I’ll make sure he comes home tonight though.”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” Boyd leaned against him. “You promise you’ll get him home?” 

“I promise,” Fenton answered, resting his head against Boyd’s. They both knew Gyro meant it as nothing against them to be at work for so long, the inventor just had a habit of getting so sucked into a project that nothing else mattered to him for a while. It was something the two of them had slowly pulled him out of, but it still happened every now and then. “Will you pin my hair up for me?”

The duck was in dire need of a haircut, he’d been so busy the last month with the new Gizmoduck case that he hadn’t had a chance. He didn’t have much time to cut it the way he wanted to, and had resorted to quickly pinning it up in the back in the mornings, so it looked mostly how it was supposed to. Otherwise, it looked unkempt. Gyro said he liked the way it looked when it was long, dashing almost, but Fenton thought it made it look a little greasy. Usually Gyro would pin it up for him, but the inventor wasn’t here now.

“You bet!” 

After getting ready for the day, Fenton dropped Boyd off at McDuck Manor, then headed to the Bin. He was determined to get Gyro to come back home today, and he’d left the Gizmoduck armor there. 

On the elevator ride down Fenton crossed his arms and scrunched his face down into a frown, ready to not take ‘no’ for an answer. He would have to be firm, and prepared himself to act gruff. 

The elevator doors opened, and Fenton stormed into the lab. “Gyro!” 

“Boo.”

Fenton jumped, whirling around to see the Mad Ducktor leaning against the wall next to the elevator, arms folded, eyebrow raised, the picture of nonchalance. Fenton had walked right past him without noticing. “Mad Ducktor!” The duck yelped, surprised. “Uh, what are you doing here?!”

Chapter Text

“Uh, what are you doing here?”

The purple-haired bird peeled himself from the wall, standing up straight. His expression was entirely neutral. “Not much, currently. What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be Gizmoduck-ing around out there? There’s still Eggheads on the loose.”

Fenton took an involuntary step back, something in the Mad Ducktor’s attitude made him nervous. It was something he hadn’t seen from the villain in quite a long time, but something, after being knocked out with a wrench, tied to a chair for several hours, mind-controlled, locked in a closet, slashed across the stomach, had his boyfriend mind-controlled, nearly been killed by a ghost, and just generally had his life threatened, he’d learned early on to be wary of. “Um, I work here…? Where’s Gyro?” 

“Closer than you think,” the reply was extremely vague, but Fenton’s face fell. 

“Did you kidnap him again?” He asked, annoyed. Then the duck hesitated. “Wait, but then why would you come back here if you kidnapped him? Have you come for me too?”

The Mad Ducktor smiled. “Spot on, actually. I can’t have you leaking information back to the Ducks already!” 

Fenton started backing up, and the Mad Ducktor followed him, always staying only a few feet apart. “Why though? What do you want from us?”

“I want Scrooge dead, and I’ve finally found a foolproof way to kill him. Gyro’s role in this plan is essential, so he has to stay with me.” The Mad Ducktor explained, his dastardly delighted grin never wavering. “You would probably tell the Duck family what I’ve done with Gyro, and that would ultimately ruin the whole thing. So you get to come along with me as well!”

“Gyro would never work with you!” Fenton argued, his heart rate picking up. This was one of the few times the Mad Ducktor had been bold enough to come after the two of them in the lab, he must’ve been pretty sure of himself. “Hasn’t he proved that time and time again?”

“Hm, he’s more willing than you think.” The chicken replied. “Honestly, more willing than he himself ever realized.” 

“What does that mean?” Fenton asked. “You- you didn’t threaten Boyd, did you? How could you? You know how much his son means to him-”

“What?” The Mad Ducktor looked a little startled. “No, of course not! I wouldn’t do that, besides, the kid’s strong enough I highly doubt I’d be able to get to him in the first place.” The smile returned. “No. I did something much more effective.”

“What. Did. You. Do.” Fenton stood his ground, crossing his arms. 

“I made him… better.” The chicken told him, pulling out a small ray gun. “With a little help from this.”

“What is that? What does that mean?” Fenton felt nervousness beginning to creep over him, and he forced it back. He wasn’t afraid of the Mad Ducktor, they’d grown enough to move past that.

He was afraid of what the clone had done to Gyro.

“This thing? It’s an old concept of mine… I’d use it on you, but frankly, I don’t think it would work.” He chuckled. “Not in the way I would want it to.” 

“What is it?” Fenton asked firmly, determined to get more answers. 

“Ugh, so many questions. Do you ever stop talking?” The Mad Ducktor suddenly appeared infinitely annoyed and bored, the look enhanced by the constant bags under his eyes. But despite his annoyance, he shifted his hold on the gun, so the small words on the side were visible. 

Fenton’s heart seemed to stop. “No…” He whispered, eyes widening. “You didn’t.” 

It looked like the villain was absolutely loving Fenton’s reaction. “Oh, but I did.” 

“W-where’s Gyro?” Fenton demanded again. He had to get to him. He had to save him from this. 

“Hm, right behind you.” 

Fenton whirled around, and took a startled step back. It was back towards the Mad Ducktor, but suddenly he didn’t care. 

Sure enough, someone was standing there. 

But Fenton felt he hardly recognized the bird before him.

“Gyro… No…” 

“Yes.”  

It looked like Gyro… But… It was the Mad Ducktor. He wore nearly the same outfit, though his black coat looked nicer, more maintained, the collar was higher and stiffer. His hair was styled similar to Gyro’s, though now it was the same lilac as the Mad Ducktor’s, and much more wild.

“You know, Gizzy…” The Mad Ducktor started speaking from behind Fenton as the duck studied chicken in front of him with absolute horror. The other bird just glared back, arms folded, eyebrows raised skeptically. “The ego machine strips people down to their true emotions, to everything they’ve wanted to do, everything they aspire to be. It’s the parts of them they hide from the world because they’re scared or ashamed. It gives them that courage.” 

The Mad Ducktor walked past him, coming to stand next to the other chicken. “How does it feel to know that this is what he’s been hiding from you all along? That maybe you’re the reason he’s felt the need to suppress this.” He grinned. 

“No! That’s not what it is at all!” Fenton argued, finding his voice as the shock wore off a little. “All it does is bring out the worst in people, the parts of them they’re trying to get rid of for a reason! How could you do this to him? You of all people would know how that fe-”

Suddenly Fenton was yanked forward and practically off his feet by his tie, and the duck yelped. “Shut up.” The Mad Ducktor snarled in his face. “You don’t get to tell me how to feel.” 

“Ducktor…” Gyro spoke from behind the Mad Ducktor, his tone warning. 

The villain shoved Fenton away from him, and the duck stumbled backwards, just barely managing to stay on his feet. Gyro walked up next to the Mad Ducktor, both of them glaring down at Fenton. 

“Gyro, no!” Fenton protested, refusing to give up that easily. “This isn’t you! I don’t know what your evil self is feeding off of, but whatever it is, I’m sorry I didn’t see it. Come back to us! I promised Boyd you’d come home today!” 

Gyro’s eyes widened. “Boyd…?” He said, looking like he’d suddenly had an epiphany. “You… what?”

Fenton continued, a small flicker of hope flaring to life inside of him. “Yes! He misses you, and he wants you back. I told him you’d come back today! Please Gyro, fight it!” 

Gyro blinked several more times, and Fenton couldn’t keep the smile off of his face. This was working! He was going to get Gyro back before anything catastrophic happened-

But that thought broke off as he saw the look on the Mad Ducktor’s face. 

He was grinning.

He was clearly fully confident that this wasn’t going to work. It reminded Fenton of the scenes in movies where the character was trying to bring their friend back from the villain’s control, shouting their love at them for a moving scene. Meanwhile the villain would just watch the whole thing and then be shocked when it worked, and the character under their control broke free. 

However, this was a little different. The Mad Ducktor was sitting idly by, letting it play out not because his character needed to be put on the sidelines while the heartfelt scene happened, but because he knew full well it wouldn’t work.

And that only broke Fenton’s heart even more. 

“I- I-” Gyro was saying. “I… can’t.” Gyro suddenly smirked. “Because there’s no ‘inner me’ you’re talking to. This is who I am now, you’ll just have to accept it.” 

The Mad Ducktor laughed. “Gizzy, you should see the shock on your face because that is priceless- You actually thought that would work!” He laughed harder, hands on his knees. 

Fenton blushed, in spite of himself, and Gyro spoke. “The Gyro you know is long gone by now. I am all that remains.”

The Mad Ducktor was still cackling, he took his dark tinted glasses off, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. “Oh… that was hilarious. I must admit, I had doubts about a big reveal like this, but even if this does go awry it was worth it just for that.”

“No. That’s not true.” Fenton said to Gyro, with resolve in his voice. “Gyro is still in there. You can’t get rid of him forever. He’s strong, he’ll be able to fight you back. He’s done it before, he’ll do it again.” He continued glaring as that earned laughter from the both of them. 

The Mad Ducktor stalked closer to Fenton. “Is that really what you think? Do you see that, darling? He’s being genuine! Well let me clue you in on something, Fenton.” The Mad Ducktor’s voice dropped as he got ever closer. “When I hit Gyro with the machine, he turned like that.” He snapped his fingers. “I don’t think he fought it at all. He wanted this. Can’t you see that he’s so much better now?”

“No.” Fenton argued. “That is not true. Gyro would never want this. You’re forcing him to be like this!”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, I suppose.” The Mad Ducktor shrugged. “Now, I think it’d be easier for all of us if you just came quietly, so let’s get this over with.”

“W-what are you going to do?” Fenton asked him, taking a step back. He had to get out of here before anything happened. He knew the Mad Ducktor wasn’t usually one for long villain-like monologues, but who knew? Maybe he could get him to explain the whole plan, and then slip away. “What are your plans for me?”

“Oh, well, right now we’re keeping you imprisoned, so-”

“Where?”

“We can’t tell you that, Gizzy.” The Mad Ducktor smirked at him, leaning down slightly to his level. “Now come o-” He lashed his hand out to grab Fenton’s tie again, but broke off as the duck dove away from him.

Fenton dashed to the elevator as fast as he possibly could, he could hear the Mad Ducktor right on his heels. The elevator doors were closed and Fenton knew he probably wouldn’t be able to get them open, get inside, and shut them again before the villain behind him caught up, but it was worth a shot.

He didn’t even make it to the elevator. 

The Mad Ducktor caught up to him only five seconds later, grabbing onto the back of his shirt, spinning around and throwing Fenton back into the lab. The duck stumbled, and smashed right into Gyro, whose arms immediately clamped down on him, holding his beak shut with one hand as well.

Fenton immediately began struggling, attempting to wriggle out of Gyro’s grasp. He stiffened in surprise as the Mad Ducktor suddenly grabbed his beak, retrieving an oversized clip from one of the pockets of his black coat and snapping it over Fenton’s beak, forcing it shut.

“There,” the Mad Ducktor said, yanking him forward as Gyro let go. “That’ll stop you from calling your little password.” From behind him, Fenton felt Gyro snapping handcuffs onto his wrists. He tried to resist, but was forced to give in when Gyro caught hold of one of his fingers and bent it back until the duck allowed him to put the cuffs on.

With that they both stepped back, looking at Fenton as if admiring their handiwork. “Hm… Should we knock him out?” The Mad Ducktor asked.

“We’ll need to at least cover his eyes,” Gyro said. Fenton’s heart was pounding as they studied him, and he was shaking. If the two of them were able to capture him, then who would tell the Ducks? Other than Fenton and Gyro’s disappearance, would they get any warning that the Mad Ducktor might actually be able to take out Scrooge this time? “So he can’t see where we’re going.”

“Yeeaaahhhh, true, but hitting him over the head really hard sounds more fun. Gizzy, hold still.” 

Fenton ducked with a closed-mouth yelp, but the Mad Ducktor simply feinted, going in with his left hand before breaking off laughing.

That only made Fenton even more confused as he managed to stand upright again. That had seemed almost like… Teasing? How had the Mad Ducktor gone from threatening multiple lives to his own brand of playful teasing in half a minute? Did he know how far he’d already gone with this? Was he even taking this seriously?

Gyro on the other hand, didn’t look amused. He just rolled his eyes. “Whatever you want. You figure out what to do with him while I get the last of the things we’ll need.”

“Got it, darling.” The Mad Ducktor leaned in to affectionately nuzzle his beak against Gyro’s, and to Fenton’s utter surprise, Gyro gently reciprocated it, before pulling away to collect the rest of the stuff.

Fenton didn’t move as the Mad Ducktor stepped towards him. He desperately wanted to ask what that had been, but the clip over his beak stopped him. The Mad Ducktor looked at him, eyebrow raised. “So, Gizzy, since I guess I like you enough to consider your input, would you rather be knocked out or blindfolded?”

Fenton just stared at him, eyes wide. What happened to you? He hadn’t seen this side of the Mad Ducktor in a long time. What had brought it back? What was going on?

“Your choice is going once… going twice…”

Fenton made a muffled yelp, shaking his head. The Mad Ducktor smirked. “So which one? Knocked out, or blindfolded?” 

The duck nodded vigorously at the second option, and the villain’s smile grew. “I knew you’d go for that one, but unfortunately I don’t have a blindfold, so I guess you get knocked out…” 

Fenton took a stumbling step away from him, squeaking out of fear as the Mad Ducktor advanced on him. But the chicken was laughing again. “Oh, come on Gizzy, learn to take a joke!” 

There was the teasing playfulness again. What was happening? Any other time this behavior wasn’t as surprising, but it was now, due to the gravity of the situation. The Mad Ducktor surely had to be taking this more seriously than he was letting on, right? But why would he act like this was just a joke, when it clearly wasn’t? He’d literally brainwashed Gyro against his will to join him, and hardly even seemed serious about it now.

Thankfully, the Mad Ducktor pulled a strip of fabric from his coat pocket; and Fenton held still as the villian tied it around his head, covering his eyes. If he couldn’t run away from them before, he definitely couldn’t now that his arms were bound. It was best to just go quietly, and take the better option while he could. Maybe he would be able to somehow wiggle the blindfold off without them noticing, so he’d be able to see where they were taking him.

As soon as he was blindfolded, Fenton felt a harsh kick against the back of his knee and he cried out in pain as he collapsed, falling to his knees. Then there came the sound of the Mad Ducktor’s boots clicking on the lab floor, walking away from Fenton. “Blacklight, watch him.”

Now the Mad Ducktor’s voice was commanding and a little harsh, only confusing Fenton even more. Unless that’s how the villain always spoke to Blacklight… Though judging by the annoyed buzz from the lightbulb, it wasn’t. He heard Blacklight approach as well, there came the soft click of their feet against the lab’s floor. 

Fenton considered asking Blacklight what was going on by tapping his foot, but thought better of it. Blacklight could be more ruthless than the Mad Ducktor at times, and would most likely electrocute Fenton or tell the other two the duck was trying to get answers in response.

So instead he wiggled his hands around, trying to find a way to get his wrists free. If he could just get out of here, then maybe he could tell the Ducks and this would all be stopped before it began. He could still hear Gyro and the Mad Ducktor rooting around the lab, and Blacklight’s footsteps had stopped not far from Fenton’s face.

But no, the handcuffs were tight, and already beginning to rub uncomfortably against his wrists. 

With a small jolt, Fenton remembered Archimede. When the Mad Ducktor had first returned, he’d imprisoned Archimede, bound and gagged, in a closet for days. The chicken had largely gotten over it, but once or twice Fenton had seen him anxiously rubbing his wrists, like he had just after being freed. Would the Mad Ducktor and Gyro do that to Fenton? They wanted him out of the way, would they take that literally, and lock him up alone until their plan was carried out? Could Fenton survive something like that?

No. Fenton refused to let himself be in that situation. He would find a way out. He would find a way to warn everyone. To tell Boyd-

Boyd.

Fenton’s eyes widened behind his blindfold, and he hoped that Blacklight, the Mad Ducktor and Gyro didn’t see as the duck seized onto that glimmer of hope. The little parrot had done Fenton’s hair for him earlier, pinning it up. Fenton knew from his M’ma that hair pins could unlock handcuffs. 

He just had to find a way to get the hair pins from the back of his head and into his hand without anyone noticing. 

Fenton curled up, whimpering. He let his breath come out in little sniffles, hoping that Blacklight wouldn’t question it. He didn’t hear the little robot move, which he took as a good sign. 

Fenton knew from exercises with Beakley and his M’ma (designed for self-defense, for if he ever lost the armor in a fight) that his arms were just long enough that while bound behind his back, he could barely fit them underneath himself and around his legs. If his legs were just a little bit less bony it wouldn’t work, and it took a lot of wriggling, but eventually he could get there. 

He just had to keep his wriggling inconspicuous.

So he curled in tighter on himself, letting his fake sniffles turn more into sobs as he slowly, so slowly that he was sure no one would notice, managed to extend his arms down far enough. Pretty soon his wrists were held up against his shins, and his heart leapt. This might just work!

 Suddenly, Fenton felt something hard hit him in the face, and he jerked backwards in shock. “Keep it down,” Blacklight tapped out against his shoulder. “My father doesn’t like your meager and pitiful whimpers.”

Oh. Well, that was different. Fenton swallowed, and gave what he thought was a mournful nod as he moved his arms forward, as far as they needed to go. 

There came the soft tapping as Blacklight took a few steps back. 

Everything was in place, and Fenton had to act fast. 

Based on the sounds of their footsteps, Fenton judged exactly where Blacklight was, and after taking as deep of a breath that the gag would allow to brace himself, he acted. 

He planted one foot on the ground, using it to pivot his body forward, sliding on the lab’s smooth floor. His other foot shot out, and made a sharp connection with Blacklight, sending them flying backwards. At the same time he lifted his arms up over his head, pulling loose a hairpin from the back of his hair. 

Fenton brought his hands back to his chest so he could undo the handcuffs, pulling off the blindfold as he did so. He then leapt to his feet as fast as he could, still wiggling the pin in the lock, trying to remember what Beakley had told him. 

Alerted by the sound of Blacklight flying halfway across the lab, Gyro and the Mad Ducktor whirled around as Fenton got to his feet. The next thing he knew they were running to him, taking off simultaneously without saying a word. 

Fenton staggered back, furiously moving the hair pin as he turned tail to run. He just needed to put enough space between him in them so he could get enough time to- there. The handcuffs clicked and loosened, and the duck shook them off. 

Fenton stopped, the handcuffs dropping to the floor as he turned back to face his attackers. They drew up too, about six feet from where he stood. 

They could tell something had changed. 

“Don’t even try calling for the armor, Gizzy.” The Mad Ducktor growled as Fenton reached up and unclipped his gag. He could see that every muscle in the villain’s body was tense, poised to react to whatever Fenton would do. “I already hacked it, it won’t work.”

“Oh really?” Fenton asked. “Then why do you two suddenly look terrified now that I’m free?”

“We’re not-”

“Blathering blatherskite!” 

From the look of shock and horror on the chickens’ faces as the armor burst from the closet and zoomed towards the duck, Fenton knew that the armor hadn’t been hacked, and that they knew they were done for. It was a true look of ‘oh, we’re toast’, and Fenton couldn’t help but grin as the armor magnetized around him.

“Ducktor!” Gyro snarled, turning to the bird at his side. “Why didn’t you immobilize the armor?”

“I didn’t have time, you were the one who kept pushing for us to get it done this early! You didn’t do it either!” 

“Because you said everything was ready!” 

“No, I-”

“Alright, you two!” Fenton cut in, putting on his ‘hero’ voice. He hardly noticed that he deepened his voice when he was Gizmoduck, it was only when Gandra teased him for it a while ago that he even realized he did it. It just felt so natural, it was part of the persona. “You’re coming with me!” 

The Mad Ducktor looked up at him, a cool smirk replacing his earlier glare at Gyro. He scoffed. “Not a chance.” 

And with that he was in the air, boots powering on as he literally flew towards Fenton, going straight for the visor. 

Despite his disadvantages, the past had proven that the Mad Ducktor could hold his own against the armor. He was smaller and faster, therefore able to duck and dodge around the attacks (though, Fenton usually used pies or stunning lasers when it came to the Mad Ducktor, he wasn’t about to hit him with an explosive missile), going in for small weakening jabs at the occasionally exposed insides of the armor and swipes at the visor while doing so. Fenton found it incredibly disorienting, and oftentimes it was enough that they were equally matched. 

Not today, however. In order to be able to dodge properly, the Mad Ducktor needed a wider space, and while the lab was quite large, the ceiling wasn’t high enough to give him adequate ducking range. Fenton had the upper hand here, and he wasn’t trying to fight, but to escape. 

Though capturing them both would be nice…

It was worth a shot. 

Fenton extended the suit’s arms towards his attacker, reaching out to try and catch him. The Mad Ducktor dodged, continuing to zoom towards the visor. Gizmoduck’s arms retracted, attempting to keep up with the villain before he struck the duck’s face. 

But he couldn’t. At the last second Fenton was forced to duck, and the Mad Ducktor shot over his head, and quickly caught himself, screeching to a halt in midair about ten feet away from the armor. But Gizmoduck had forgotten about his arms retreating back to catch the chicken, and ended up hitting himself hard in the face. 

Ouch.

The Mad Ducktor cackled. “Oh, look at the great and mighty Gizmoduck! He’s hurt himself in his confusion!” 

Gizmoduck glowered, whirling around to face the Mad Ducktor as he made another dive. But this time he was better prepared. As he was forced to dodge again and the chicken zoomed past, Gizmoduck quickly extended one arm. 

The fabric of the Mad Ducktor’s long coat tickled at the gauntlets, and Gizmoduck grasped at it. 

With a choke the Mad Ducktor was forced to stop in midair, legs swinging forward as he was held back by his arms. He twisted around, snarling. “Let go!” 

Before the villain could just take his coat off, Gizmoduck snapped his arm back, sending the Mad Ducktor shooting back towards him, before colliding hard against the armor’s chest. The hero immediately wrapped his arms tightly around him, holding him in place. Though it did almost look like he was giving the Mad Ducktor a big bear hug.

Predictably the Mad Ducktor writhed and thrashed, trying to figure a way out of his now utterly reversed situation. But his arms were trapped down at his sides, his robot hand and all of its gadgets stuck pointing down ineffectively towards the floor. 

“Gizzy I swear, if you don’t let go-”

But Gizmoduck wasn’t paying attention. He shifted the Mad Ducktor under one arm (still keeping the villain’s arms pressed tightly against his sides), and turned his attention to Gyro. 

Just in time to see a familiar foot coming right for the visor. 

How Blacklight had managed to get that high in the air with nothing around to help them Gizmoduck would never know, but the little robot’s foot made hard contact with the visor. It was strong enough to send Gizmoduck reeling back slightly, half from the force, half from surprise. Still, he kept his grip on the Mad Ducktor, and batted the little robot away. 

With that, Gizmoduck’s spare arm shot out towards Gyro, and the chicken turned tail to dart across the lab. The inventor wasn’t fast enough, and soon the arm was encircling him as well, retracting quickly back to hold him against Gizmoduck’s other side. The hero looked around for Blacklight, but they were now nowhere to be seen. 

He’d have to find them later, it was better to quit while ahead. 

The two chickens under each of his arms were squirming, shouting various threats and curses. Fenton ignored them, making for the elevator. Taking it to the top floor, he left through the same door he and the Mad Ducktor had used when they’d gone to rescue Gyro from F.O.W.L., well over a year ago. In only a few minutes, they were out into the freezing early-morning January air.

A few minutes later, the Mad Ducktor gave one last wriggle, before slumping down in defeat. He hung there for a moment, then lifted his head. “Hey, Gizzy.”

“What?” Fenton asked, forcing a hardened edge into his voice. It was as close to a snap as he could get while worried and confused out of his mind. 

“Look, how about you take Gyro back, but let me go free? I’ll even tell you how to reverse this, but only if you let me go.”

“What?” This time the duck looked down at him. “No! You’re helping us turn Gyro back no matter what, and then you're going to the Supercell for a long time, until you’ve made up for this. What was your plan here, anyway?”

“I’ll never tell, then it’ll lose it’s shock and awe! We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”

“Actually, we would.” Gizmoduck grumbled.

The Mad Ducktor laughed. “You’re funny.”

“I’m serious.”

“Seriously funny.”

Gizmoduck groaned, which made the Mad Ducktor laugh again. Gyro had mostly fallen silent as well, but refused to give up, and was still wiggling around, giving the occasional little grunt of effort here and there. Gizmoduck tried to ignore him. He didn’t want to see Gyro like this any more than he had to. 

The hero turned his attention back to the Mad Ducktor. “Is there at least some of your plan you can tell me?”

“Ooh… like a teaser?” The Mad Ducktor asked, grinning. “Those are always my favorite. Little tidbits of tantalizing information that are often misleading…”

“Please don’t give me a misleading one.”

“Gizzy, you know I make no promises.”

“Just tell me.” 

“Fine! Let’s see. There’s the usual ‘don’t trust anyone’ and ‘not what they seem’ kind of warning, but I assume you’re looking for something bigger-”

“Wait, what does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, look at Gyro! He could’ve gone around parading as himself for the next few weeks, and you hardly would’ve noticed the difference! Therefore, don’t trust anyone, and the people around you may not be what they seem…”

“Hold on, you’re planning on hitting everyone with the ego machine? There’d be chaos! How in Selene’s name would that help with overthrowing Scrooge?” Fenton didn’t see it adding up.

“Oooh, I didn’t think of that! Maybe using it on that old miser would get him to join me… then of course, I’d turn on him and kill him. No questions asked.” The villain’s face scrunched up in thought. “Or would it just bring out his greed? We definitely don’t need more of that, or really any more of him running around.” 

“Just tell me-”

Gizmoduck broke off as his engines suddenly sputtered, then went out. “What the-” He managed to get them going again, but it was only another few seconds before they sputtered and nearly died once more. “What is going on?”

The little lightbulb with Gyro’s voice appeared at the bottom of his vision. “Uh-oh!” It exclaimed in his ear. “Looks like there’s been a power cut! Systems shutting down.”

“What?!” Gizmoduck exclaimed, starting to panic. “No! How-” Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Gyro, smugly holding up a screwdriver.

Blathering blatherskite.

“W-where’d you get that? Gizmoduck demanded, as he tried to keep them from falling to their deaths. 

Gyro snorted. “Do you have any idea how many pockets are in this coat?” He paused with a grimace. “Honestly, too many. It took me way too long to find this.” 

That was the last thing Gizmoduck heard before the power shut off for good, and he was left plummeting towards the edge of the city.

Instinctively, his arms flailed, as if trying to use them to take flight. The Mad Ducktor immediately turned on his boots and shot off, catching himself. That left Gyro and Gizmoduck falling side-by-side, writhing in the air while Fenton screamed. 

Though it felt like several minutes, it was only a few seconds later that the Mad Ducktor dove down and caught Gyro, leaving Fenton falling by himself. Fenton saw their smug looks as they smirked down at him, just as the buildings rose up on either side to engulf him. 

He hit the ground hard, but luckily the suit wasn’t just well-padded on the inside (which wouldn’t be enough to save him on its own), but it was specifically designed so the armor took much of the impact, leaving Fenton mostly unhurt. Still, stars flicked across his vision as his back and the back of his head collided hard with the concrete. 

He lay there for a moment, gasping. He’d landed in some back alley, he was only about a ten minute walk or a six minute run from McDuck Manor’s front gate. He knew the Mad Ducktor and Gyro would be after him soon, and he didn’t have a minute to waste. 

Still, he let himself take a few deep breaths and take in his situation before he moved. He didn’t have time to comprehend it all, but this was what it boiled down to. 

The Mad Ducktor had turned on them. 

Gyro was… evil now. 

The suit needed repairs. 

The Bin might be in the hands of the villainous chickens. 

They had some master plan, something that might take out Scrooge once and for all. 

With Gyro no longer on the Duck’s side, Fenton had a sinking feeling that this one would work. This time, the Mad Ducktor would finally accomplish what he’d been working for for the last few years. Fenton knew no one would be able to even compare to the two geniuses while working together. 

With a heavy sigh, he deactivated the armor, sitting up and stuffing it in the duffle bag which he kept in a compartment in the gauntlets. Then he stood, gingerly fingered the forming bruise on the back of his head, and took off, full sprint, in the direction of the mansion. 

It didn’t take him long until he was running through the woods, it was faster than going along the path, and this way he couldn’t be seen from above. He knew the Mad Ducktor would be looking for him, and wanted to stay as unnoticeable as possible. The freezing January air bit at his lungs, and he shivered.

However, running through the woods as fast as you possibly can in a half-blind panic is never a good idea, no matter what you’re running from. Fenton’s foot hit against something hard and he was sent flying, duffle bag and all, before smashing into the leaf-covered ground, barely being able to catch himself on his hands. 

He’d avoided hitting his face, but his palms were now badly skinned. And his toes hurt.

He twisted onto his back to see what he’d tripped over, and noticed a small dark fin sticking out of the ground, peeking above the leaves. Not far off, a thin black antenna stuck up from the mulch too. 

Curious intrigue flicked across his mind, but he forced it back. He didn’t have time. Resolving to ask Scrooge about it later, he picked himself up and kept running, trying to ignore the pain in his foot and hands. 

The wall around the mansion wasn’t far off, and Fenton quickly reached it before following it all the way down until he arrived at the gate. He paused at the edge of the woods, searching the skies, before dashing to the large black gate and pressing the button for the intercom. 

“Mr. McDuck! Mrs. Beakley! Anyone there! I need you to open the gate!” 

A crackle, then Mrs. Beakley’s voice. “Fenton? What are you doing here? What’s going on?”

“The Mad Ducktor’s after me-” The duck huffed, out of breath from his frantic flight. “I need- I need to get in!” 

“The Mad Ducktor?!” She repeated, sounding surprised. “I thought you’d made amends with him, or something.”

“I did too- but he’s turned on all of us- please, just-”

“Oh, Gizzy!”

Chapter Text

Fenton’s head snapped up with a start, his heart rate increasing dramatically just from the voice. 

No. They couldn’t have found him already! That had to be impossible!

Apparently not.

The Mad Ducktor and Gyro stood next to each other just inside the shadow of the woods, their bright green eyes seeming to glitter like emeralds in the dark. They both wore malignant smiles, and Fenton wasted no time in turning back to the intercom. 

…Which quickly fell from his grasp. 

It titled, falling hard in the grass, and Fenton stared down in shock at the smoking lump of metal still on the ground, then back up at the Mad Ducktor, whose left pointer finger was glowing red. The chicken smirked, putting his glove back on. 

Fenton swallowed, glancing up at the cameras that were situated at the edges of the gate. Hopefully, even if he was captured, the Ducks would get some idea of what they were up against. 

But for some reason, the cameras hung limp, the lights off as they pointed towards the ground. Fenton cursed quietly, then looked back over to face the two villains who were slowly stepping out of the trees to advance on him. 

“Oh, give in already, Gizzy.” The Mad Ducktor told him. “There’s nothing you can do. The cameras are dead, intercoms broken, gates shut, you’re outnumbered and have no way to fight back. It’d be better for you to just come quietly.”

“Better for me?” Fenton asked, his eyes still locked on the Mad Ducktor’s. However, he was scanning his peripheral vision for any avenue of escape. “Or for you?”

“You,” the Mad Ducktor clarified with a grin. “I honestly think it’d be fun to see you try and fight, but the choice is yours. What do you think, darling?”

The other chicken just rolled his eyes. “Can we please just get this over with?”

“Sure, sure, whatever you say.” He looked back over at Fenton. “I wouldn’t want to make him angry…”

Fenton swallowed, still standing his ground as the two of them got closer. They were now only a few feet away, and Fenton still had no idea how to get out of this. He knew he was physically stronger than the two of them, but they had weapons and he was defenseless. The armor wouldn’t work, and he had nothing else to use. 

But maybe Beakley was sending someone, or asking Scrooge about the gate. He’d just have to stall and pray to whatever deity would hear him that they could get the gates open. 

That’s when a thought hit him. The main power of the armor might be out, but he could still use the pieces of it individually. Just as it occurred to him he was already unzipping the duffle bag, whipping on one of the gauntlets and pointing it at the chickens. 

They froze. 

“H-hands up.” Fenton stammered, letting the laser finger rev up menacingly. “Or I’ll shoot.” 

The Mad Ducktor laughed, leaning against Gyro. “Oh please, Gizzy, you wouldn’t risk Gyro!” 

“N-no, but… but I can use that stunning feature! That wouldn’t hurt you, it’d just knock you out until the Ducks get here, and then everything can just go back to how it was.” Fenton told them, his confidence slowly gaining. 

They eyed him, before Gyro spoke. “...Didn’t I take that out because it was malfunctioning?”

Shoot. He had. Gyro had been meaning to work on it, but hadn’t had the time to fix it and add it back in yet. Fenton swallowed again, as the Mad Ducktor smirked. “Aww, nice try. But we all know this is just an empty threa-”

“I’m sorry!” Fenton yelped, as he pointed the gauntlet at the floor just in between them. He fired, and the force of the bolt sent all three of them flying backwards. 

Fenton landed hard on his tail, but he hardly felt the pain over the panicked adrenaline still coursing through him. He stood as fast as he possibly could, then hurried over to where Gyro and the Mad Ducktor had landed, flat on their backs. 

They looked mostly unharmed, and were sitting up as Fenton arrived. 

He pointed the gauntlet at them. “See? I’m not afraid to use this. You two are no match for it. Give me all of your weapons, now.”

The Mad Ducktor rubbed the back of his head. “What was that for?”

“You know good and well what-”

“Ugh, Gizzy, really? Great, now-”

“Stop it!” Fenton cried over him. The duck was shaking. “Do as I say!” 

The chicken smirked. “Hm… how about no?”

“Ducktor, do it.” Gyro grumbled, hauling himself up into a sitting position. 

“What? But-”

“Do it.”

Grumbling under his breath, the Mad Ducktor stuck his hands in his pockets, and Fenton took a step back as the two stood, pulling weapons from just about everywhere. 

“Mad Ducktor, I want your hand and your boots as well-”

“I know, I know.” The Mad Ducktor spat, furiously pulling his gloves off. “Save it.”

Fenton watched in slowly increasing dread as the pile of weapons in front of him grew, they ranged from small throwing stars, to daggers and even a boomerang, to what was evidently a short sword that Gyro seemed to pull from nowhere. Fenton had no idea if either of them knew how to use them (Gyro certainly didn’t), but the sheer number and variety was terrifying. He made them take their dark coats off too, so they couldn’t hide any leftover weapons in there. 

“O-okay,” Fenton said shakily, keeping the gauntlet trained on the chicken’s feet. “Now walk over to me and stand right here while I grab the handcuffs.” 

Stepping around the pile, the two walked over to him, and Fenton watched them closely the whole time to make sure they didn’t try anything. They stopped about a foot and a half away from him, both of them looking on edge. 

Fenton didn't think anything of that, until the Mad Ducktor leapt at him.

He yelped, pointing the gauntlet at the advancing chicken, but it was too late. The Mad Ducktor ducked under his arm and forced it upwards, so the shot fired up at the sky. The villain pulled it off of Fenton’s arm, yanking hard enough that the gauntlet ended up slipping from his grasp and shooting several feet away from them, before slamming into a tree. And before Fenton could register that, he’d been kicked in the shin, forced to the ground, and pinned down. 

Fenton had no idea if the Mad Ducktor and Gyro had planned their attack somehow, but Gyro seemed to move at the same time, dashing to the pile of weapons. He tossed the Mad Ducktor his prosthetic hand, which the villain caught easily, slipping on before pinning Fenton to the ground with it by his neck. 

The grip was quite literally iron-strong, and Fenton knew there was no way out of this. All he could do was gasp for air as his windpipe was partially obstructed. 

“Hurry up,” the Mad Ducktor said to Gyro, who was stuffing weapons back into his black coat. “Can I have my shoes?” 

Gyro tossed the boots at him, one of them hitting Fenton in the shoulder heel-first. He gave a strangled squeak of pain, and the Mad Ducktor smirked. “It’s too late for you, Gizzy. We’ve already won.”

“Either way,” Gyro said, standing. “We have to hurry. He did manage to get a message through to the Ducks, and we don’t want to get captured before anything truly is set in motion.”

“I know, darling. Are you done?” 

The other chicken nodded. “Yes, this is just your stuff. Why don’t you just hit him with a rock or something?” 

The Mad Ducktor sighed, and came incredibly close to rolling his eyes. “Fiiiiine, I guess. It’s just so much more fun to watch him squirm.” Then he looked down at Fenton, whose eyes were wide. “Good night, Gizzy!” 

The hand moved from his neck, and Fenton surged upwards, ready to do whatever it would take to get away from them. 

But he wasn’t fast enough. The Mad Ducktor’s left fist descended on his head, and Fenton’s vision flashed white, then red, then flickered into darkness as the back of his head hit the forest floor. 

When Fenton woke, his head ached. It was a pulsing pain just above the right side of his forehead, and he let out a small groan. He hated headaches in general, but they were especially worse first thing in the morning. 

Hold on, hadn’t he already woken up this morning? Yes, because he’d been annoyed that Gyro hadn’t been there next to him…

Gyro.

Fenton’s eyes flew open as the mist in his mind cleared, revealing the memories of that morning. He sat up, and the movement combined with the sudden harsh light in his face did nothing to help his headache. 

“Woah, slow down, Fenton. Relax.”

It took Fenton’s eyes a moment to adjust, and when they did, he saw he was sitting on the couch in the mansion’s TV room. Della, Boyd, Huey, Scrooge and Beakley were all there, and Fenton was suddenly hit with a strong sense of déjà vu.

This couldn't be right. “What’s going on? Where’s the Mad Ducktor?” And Gyro? What had happened to them?

“We sent Boyd out to get you after your message over the intercom.” Beakley explained. “He said he found you unconscious in the woods.”

Boyd stepped up, fidgeting with his fingers. “The Mad Ducktor left as soon as he saw m-me coming.” He explained quietly. Twisting his fingers around and around. “A-and I-I t-think there was s-s-someone else with him…”

Della’s voice was deadly serious, it was probably the most gravely Fenton had ever heard her speak. “Fenton. Where’s Gyro?”

All of them looked at him with wide, anxious eyes. Fenton sat back against the couch a little and swallowed. “The Mad Ducktor has him. H-he’s-”

“So we get him back!” Della exclaimed, but her hopeful energy seemed forced. “After all, we know the Mad Ducktor can’t hurt him, we can just track them down and raid-”

Fenton shook his head slightly. “No. It’s not that simple.”

Della deflated. “I was afraid you were going to say that. What has he done with him?”

Fenton sighed. “I don’t know exactly what happened, but from what it sounds like, the Mad Ducktor kidnapped him last night. Gyro was staying up late working on something, and the Mad Ducktor caught him.” There was no point in explaining this part, Fenton was just delaying the inevitable. To actually admit that Gyro was no longer the master of his own mind would make it feel much more real. “The Mad Ducktor hit him with a little laser gun, and…” 

“Fenton, lad, what is it?” Scrooge leaned forward. “Come on, focus on us.”

“It’s… it was his own remade version of the ego machine.” Fenton admitted quietly. 

They stared at him, and Fenton winced as his head throbbed. He closed his eyes, lifting his hand to the bruise. 

Scrooge was the first one to speak, his tone quiet and shocked. “Huey, will ye get Cabrera an ice pack?”

Huey silently stood and left without a word. It was clear all of them were stunned to silence. 

“Why?!” Della broke first. She’d been kneeling by the couch, and as she spoke she jumped to her feet. “Where did this plan come from? Gyro told me that he’d reached some kind of neutral ground with the Mad Ducktor, why would he turn on him?!” 

“Aye don’t know.” Scrooge held a hand to his beak. “Last time Aye spoke ta Gyro about him he said there was nothin’ the Mad Ducktor could do that would surprise him. A-Aye guess he wasn’t expecting this.” 

“N-none of u-us were!” Boyd stammered out. It was a clear sign of his agitation. 

Huey returned with the ice pack, passing it to Fenton. “Thanks, Huey.” Fenton took it, trying out a strained yet grateful smile as he pressed it lightly to his head. 

Beakley looked at him. “What happened? How did you find out about this?”

Fenton told them his story, simultaneously going over it in his mind to try and figure out if there was anything crucial his panic-filled brain had missed. 

Already the stark differences between Gyro and the Mad Ducktor were obvious and interesting. The Mad Ducktor was still just as loud, flamboyant and unstable as he’d always been, perhaps a little more so. But Gyro seemed the total opposite. He only spoke when necessary, leaving much of the talking to the Mad Ducktor, and stood there stoic and still much of the time. He’d seemed just as annoyed by the Mad Ducktor’s antics as he was without the evil power in his mind, maybe even more so.

What did this mean? Obviously Gyro had changed quite a lot from who he was three years ago, and much more from sixteen years ago. But it shouldn’t have been enough to entirely change the personality of his evil alter ego. Had his motives changed too? Did he want vengeance on Scrooge? What for? 

And he called the Mad Ducktor simply ‘Ducktor’, instead of his usual ‘Mads’.

Then there was what Gyro had said about nothing being truly set in motion yet. So the Mad Ducktor had a plan, but outside of getting Gyro to turn, nothing had started yet. Maybe if Fenton and the Ducks acted fast enough, they could get it to stop. 

He finished with this, and Scrooge was pulling out his gold flip-phone before Fenton had even closed his mouth. “We need ta lock down the Bin, before they get any more access to it. Ye said you left the Mad Ducktor’s Lil’ Bulb there?” 

Fenton nodded. He didn’t know what had happened to Blacklight, but they were in the Bin somewhere.

“Good.” Scrooge dialed. “If we can capture it, then maybe we can get more information.” He held the phone to his ear and walked away as whoever was on the other end of the line picked up. 

“Meanwhile, we need to find a way to get to Gyro.” Beakley said. “We’ve dealt with this before, we can do it again. This time we know what we’re up against.” 

“But this time there’s two of them!” Della argued. “This is going to be so much more difficult!”

“Not if we know their weaknesses.” Beakley countered. 

While the two of them argued, Boyd climbed up onto the couch, leaning against Fenton and curling up. Fenton wordlessly put an arm around him, resting his chin on the little parrot’s head.

“W-what a-a-are we going t-to do?” Boyd whispered. 

“We’ll get him back, mi hijo, don’t worry.” Fenton told him with assuring confidence he didn’t feel. He hadn’t been there during the first Mad Ducktor attack, when the ego machine had backfired on Gyro, creating the supervillain inside of him. He’d only heard the stories, and the situation felt much more dangerous now that he was living through it. The Ducks appeared confident that if they’d reversed the machine once they could do it again, but Fenton didn’t share in it. 

It all looked so hopeless. 

“How?” Boyd asked. 

Fenton couldn’t answer. He just hugged Boyd tighter. 

Huey, seeing that Fenton and Boyd were clearly nervous out of their wits and that there was no one to comfort them, stepped up to the couch. “Hey, it’s going to be okay! Mom, Uncle Donald, Uncle Scrooge and Mrs. Beakley have seen this before, and they’re going to help fix it!” 

“H-how?” Boyd asked him, his wide blue eyes meeting Huey’s. 

“Well, first off we need whatever kind of machine that they used the first time. That should work again, since even if the Mad Ducktor did make some modifications to the ego machine, it still is the same general principle, from what it sounds like. Then we just have to find him and hit him with it again!” 

Boyd lifted his head. “How will we find dad?” 

Huey let out a breath. “That part… might be harder. But from what it sounds like, the Mad Ducktor has some kind of evil plan for all of us. No doubt he’ll attack sometime, and bring Gyro with him. Then we can get him.” 

That’s when Scrooge returned, putting his phone back in his pocket. “The Bin is on total lockdown,” he told them. “And Quackfaster is searching for the Lil’ Bulb. Do we have any idea where Gyro’s Lil’ Bulb is?” 

Fenton shook his head. “I haven’t seen him all morning.” 

Della turned back to them. “Mrs. B said that the reversed ego machine is still in the lab. It was in one of the store closets, and I don't think Gyro would’ve wanted to go anywhere near it, let alone move it.”

“So let’s go get it!” Huey exclaimed. He looked back at Boyd. “See? We’re already almost there!” 

“Hold on, it’s not that easy.” Mrs. Beakley cut in. 

Huey sighed. “Of course it isn’t.” 

“The lab was completely destroyed when F.O.W.L. captured Gyro.” Della reminded him. “If the anti-ego machine was still in there, it would’ve been completely incinerated.” 

“But all of the old inventions nobody uses anymore are down in the storage basement.” Fenton said, sitting up a little. “Wouldn’t it be down there? Even if Gyro didn’t want to move it himself, he might’ve had Manny or I do it.” 

Scrooge nodded. “Ah’ll have Quackfaster look down there for it. But we should be prepared ta have to build another one. Do we still have the blueprints for it?” 

“Lab fire,” Della told him, frowning. 

“Ah, right. And what with how often the lab floods, even without the fire it probably woulda been destroyed anyway.” Scrooge squinted. “Now Aye get why Gyro’s always so mad about that.” 

“So we will most likely have to build a new one. With Fenton here, that should be easy.” Beakley said. “We just have to wait for Quackfaster to finish securing the Bin. Hopefully that Lil’ Bulb can give us some insights.” 

Della’s phone dinged, and she quickly fished it from her pocket. After checking the screen, she frowned. “Nope, it got away.” She held it up, showing a picture of Blacklight running out across the bridge. The next shot was them jumping off, right into the ocean. 

“Where is it going?” Huey asked. “Could we follow it?” 

“I would in the armor, but it needs repairs.” Fenton said, standing. 

“But by the time that’s done it will already have gotten away!” The duckling protested. 

“Sorry,” Fenton said, wincing. 

“It’s alright.” Huey flopped down on the couch. “Sorry, I’m just worried.” 

Della ruffled his hair, almost knocking his hat off. “We all are, kiddo. Hopefully we can get this sorted out soon.”

Fenton looked down at Boyd, who had his legs tucked up against his chest, peering over his knees. His eyes were wide, and Fenton could see the anxiety written in them, clear as day.

The duck sat back down, putting an arm around Boyd. “Hey, it’s okay! This is nothing like last time. Gyro is going to be fine, the Mad Ducktor can’t hurt him, remember? We just have to get him back, and everything will be alright.” 

Boyd leaned against him. “But what if it’s not?”

“What could go wrong?” Fenton asked him. 

“What if dad ends up hurting you? Or someone else? H-he wouldn’t want to, a-and then that person would be hurt and we still wouldn’t have dad back. Or what if we never get him back? What if we all get captured?”

“We’re not going to get hurt, and we’re not going to get captured.” Della crouched down to Boyd’s level, resting a hand on one of his feet. “We’re stronger than that, we can handle a grumpy Gyro. We did it last time, and this time we have the bonus of Gizmoduck and you! You guys are great, and it’ll make it twice as easy.” 

Fenton shot her a grateful look. He’d been mostly at a loss on how to respond, he greatly shared in Boyd’s fears. Even if they did get Gyro back, what if he hurt someone? Gyro could never live with himself if he did. “We’ll just have to be careful.” He told Boyd. 

The little parrot nodded. “O-okay. Thanks.” 

Della turned back to her phone. “I just asked Quackfaster to check the storage level for any sign of the device when she’s done. We should get to the lab as soon as possible.” 

Scrooge checked his phone for the time. “With that Lil’ Bulb gone, we can probably go now. Ah’ll contact Launchpad, he can take us.”

They left as soon as Launchpad arrived, the pilot didn’t even get a chance to get out of the limo before they all crowded in. They made it across Duckburg without any major events, and Quackfaster let them into the Bin. 

Boyd held Fenton’s hand tightly the entire way, and didn’t say a word. Huey tried reassuring him again, but everyone knew it was hopeless. Boyd was back into that shocked, speechless state that he’d been in for months after Gyro had been captured by F.O.W.L. They needed Gyro back soon, not just for Gyro’s sake but for Boyd’s.

Fenton stared absently out the window as they drove, thinking hard while trying to keep his emotions at bay. He shouldn't have left Gyro alone last night. With a track record like Gyro's, it was clear that there were several people who would try to kidnap him and use him. Fenton was supposed to be there to protect him, and he'd utterly failed. 

Fenton, Della, Boyd and Quackfaster thoroughly searched through the basement storage level, where the Mad Ducktor had held Gyro and Fenton hostage three years ago. One of the chairs was still there, set up under the little lightbulb. 

After over an hour of searching, they were forced to conclude that the anti-ego machine was gone. They would have to build an entirely new one.

“Last time we were just able to reverse the ego machine.” Della explained on the elevator ride back up to the lab. “It made it waaaay easier than building something from scratch, especially since without the Mad Ducktor’s gun we don’t know entirely what we need to counter.” 

Fenton sighed. This just kept getting better, didn’t it? “Well, if you can just remember the basic idea of it, I might be able to rustle up something.” 

The elevator doors opened, and Huey came running up to them. “Fenton! I got the Gizmoduck armor fixed!” 

“You did?” Fenton asked as they stepped out. 

Huey nodded. “It was just a disconnected wire, apparently Gyro still doesn’t want to harm his inventions, even if he’s evil.” 

Fenton smiled. “That’s great! Heh, yeah, sounds like him. Well, this way we’ll be better able to defend ourselves against them, in case anything happens.” 

“Yeah, last time we didn’t have the armor, this should be easy!” Della said confidently. 

“Last time there weren’t two of them.” Beakley reminded, stepping up to them. “A positive attitude is all well and good, but we shouldn’t get too cocky. Things may get bad fast, and we need to be prepared.” 

Della tilted her head meaningfully towards Boyd- who was still holding tightly to Fenton’s hand- and Beakley winced. “Oh. Yes. But that is… very unlikely. We’ve got this!” Both her smile and her enthusiasm were painfully forced. 

Boyd didn’t even look like he’d heard.

“We didn’t find the anti-ego machine,” Della told her. “It looks like both it and the blueprints were destroyed.”

Beakley frowned. “I was afraid of that. Well, I can remember some of the details of the old one, we can get started on that right away. We should ask Donald what he remembers too.” 

Donald had been out on a brunch date with Daisy during all of this, Scrooge had just called him to break the news. Webby was at the Sabrewing’s house, and Dewey and Gosalyn had dragged Louie along with them on a trip to Funzo’s.

“Can I help? The Junior Woodchuck Guidebook might have some insights too!” Huey pulled the book from his hat, already flipping through the pages. 

“Of course!” Della said. 

They all moved off, already discussing plans and Della and Beakley sharing what they remembered. Fenton and Boyd stayed by the elevator, and after a few moments Fenton crouched down next to Boyd. “Are you okay?”

“This is just like the first time,” the little parrot told him quietly. “W-we’re just stuck waiting for them to attack. W-why can w-we never j-just go stop t-the bad guy b-before he d-d-does anything?”

Fenton was about to remind him that everything had worked out the first time, in fact it might’ve been the best possible outcome, before he remembered that Boyd had been forced to sacrifice himself for all of them. It’d turned out great for everyone else, but only because Boyd had been willing to let himself self-destruct. “I don’t know, Boyd.” Fenton murmured. “I’m sorry you have to go through all of this.”

“I just want him back.” Boyd said softly.

“I know.” Fenton hugged him tightly. “Let’s do the best we can to do so, okay? Do you want to help us with the anti-ego machine?”

The little parrot nodded against Fenton’s chest. “Y-yes. C-can we stay here for a bit?”

Fenton nodded, squeezing Boyd tighter. “Of course.” 

Chapter Text

Silence. 

It was odd how much life a dead silence could carry. How filled with emotion it could be, when no one said anything. Sometimes, it could mean more than words. There was a companionable silence, where everything was comfortably calm. There was an awkward silence, where everyone was searching for something to say that didn’t start or end with a desperate laugh. There was a scared and anxious silence, where the very clock on the wall sounded like a countdown to the end of the world, where everyone held their breaths. 

The current silence was one of anger-filled disappointment. The air was thick with it, it bubbled just beneath the surface, ready to be released in a volcano of vile words. 

The sky was dark and cloudy as the two chickens made their way down the deserted street. They were walking through a tightly-packed neighborhood of hills, the houses so close together and the hills so dense that there were several houses whose roofs were someone else’s backyard.

The birds stopped outside of a house in the middle of such a cluster, the small struggling tree that took up much of the wild unkempt yard hardly had a space to grow upwards, before it was intercepted by the eaves of the next house. One of them opened the front door and held it open for the other. 

It was when they got inside that Gyro finally snapped. He slammed the door shut. 

“I cannot believe you,” he hissed, glaring at the Mad Ducktor. His eyes- which were now the same acid green as Mads’- conveyed a shocking amount of anger that bordered almost on hate. “We had him! If it weren’t for your dramatics, we could’ve gotten away with him!”

Mads rolled his eyes, marching back through the tiny house. It was a dull grey, and seemed especially dreary in the cloudy lighting. “Well I’m sorry I like leaving an impression on our enemies. Why do you think I’m one of the most feared?” 

“And the least efficient.” Gyro grumbled, following him. 

The house consisted of one small living room, one small bedroom, a hallway, and about half a kitchen. There were hardly any windows, and the lights all took at least ten seconds to turn on all the way. The water was always freezing, and the air conditioning didn’t work. 

Most importantly, Mads knew it was the last place anyone would go looking for him.

Mads glared back at him. “We’ll just see about that. This plan is going to be flawless.” 

“Yes, now that I’m here!” Gyro countered. He followed Mads back to the tiny bedroom, where a creaky old bed stood on a carpet that was more stains than anything. There was an old footless armoire in the corner. “We both know you couldn’t even start this plan without me.” 

Mads’ lip curled. “Yes, and without me, you’d still be parading around with Fenton.” He shot back, opening the armoire. “This plan is my most ingenious one yet, and you’re lucky to be a part of it.”

Gyro stepped inside the armoire, Mads clambering in next to him. “The whole point of that was to capture Fenton and get a few extra parts from the lab. We failed at both of those things, thanks to you! It was all for nothing, and now they know we’re coming.” 

Mads shut the armoire, and pulled on the rod above their heads, used for hanging clothes. The ground beneath them shifted, then slowly began lowering. “It was your idea!” He exclaimed. “I wanted to wait, to give us more time to put everything together. Why is the blame on me?” 

“Because you always insist on being dramatic!” 

Hardly a minute into the conversation, and it’d already gone in a circle. Mads glared at him as they descended downward, underneath the little house. “Because it’s fun, darling.” 

“Yes, well, ‘fun’ isn’t our goal here.” Gyro growled in Mads’ face. “‘Fun’ gets us nowhere. If we want this to work, then you have to take it seriously!”

The platform they were standing on opened up to reveal a dark and rather spacious lab, lit mostly by blinking dials and glowing screens. One of them showed a far-off view of the mansion, another one of the Bin, and a third of the outside of the tiny house above the villainous lab. Still others showed the progress of certain projects. 

The platform descended from the ceiling, carrying the two chickens down to the lab floor, where they simultaneously stepped off. “I am taking it seriously darling, after all, I managed to get you to turn. But I can still have fun with it.” 

He’d been in the Supercell, not long after Christmas, when the thought hit him. Lying on his back, staring boredly at the ceiling. The lights around him had been out, but Mads wasn’t sleeping. With almost no way to get his energy out, it left him constantly restless. His mind had wandered, when all of the sudden he was struck with a thought. 

There was a way to get what he wanted. A sure way to get Gyro to join him, and therefore be able to finally take down Scrooge. 

The ego machine.

Why Mads hadn’t thought of it before he had no idea, but now that he had, it stuck with him. Constantly nagging at the back of his head, an idea so forbidden that it was appealing. Mads knew it would completely destroy his relationship with Gyro. But was it a risk worth taking if Gyro wasn’t truly… Gyro?

In the end, his dream had gotten the best of him. Once he had a plan to destroy Scrooge in mind that required Gyro’s assistance, Mads had caved. After all, it'd been three years. Three whole years, and he’d achieved only one of his main goals. Earn Gyro the respect he deserved. Mads’ plans of killing Scrooge and acquiring Gyro’s love had entirely failed. Scrooge was still alive and well, and Gyro was married to someone else. 

And Mads had accepted Gyro and Fenton’s relationship. He really had. But the idea of finally, finally getting someone to love him in the way he wanted was just so persuasive that he couldn’t resist it.

The story of the wicked king Tantalus was a disturbing one. After majorly offending the Greek gods, he was sentenced to the worst punishment. Being forced to stand in a pool of water under a tree, but every time he bent down to drink, the water disappeared. There was fruit on the tree above him, and yet it was always out of reach. He was made to stand there indefinitely.

But Mads, in his position, at last had a chance to acquire the water, at last had a way to reach the fruit. And he wasn’t about to pass it up. 

And so far, it’d worked. Gyro was entirely dedicated to Mads’ perspective, and very adamant about his grudge against Scrooge. While never specifying what he disliked Scrooge for, he appeared to be just as determined to destroy him as Mads was. And while they so far hadn’t mentioned anything about Gyro’s possibly changed feelings towards Mads, the inventor hadn’t rejected Mads' touches. Tentatively soft hands on Gyro’s arms or shoulders, leaning against him, and twice an affectionate beak nuzzle. 

Each one made Mads’ heart thrill with excitement. This was it. This was really it. He was finally getting what he wanted. 

Even if Gyro was proving to be stubborn, Mads was excited that his original was fighting for the same thing he was. That Gyro was angry at Mads for accidentally screwing up something that Mads had been working for. 

Gyro sniffed. “Yes, and completely botch the operation.” 

Mads sighed. “I’m done here. This will get us nowhere.” He turned, walking off into the lab.

But Gyro caught his wrist, pulling Mads back. “No, you’re not.” He snarled. “I don’t want you doing that again. Next encounter, I do the talking, alright? I’ll be the one in charge, to make sure we actually get something done.” 

Mads pulled his wrist from Gyro’s grasp. “Excuse me?! Who set all of this up? Who thought of it? You’re not in charge of this!” 

“Maybe I should be, if you keep screwing things up.” Gyro snapped, taking a step closer. 

“Hey, I got us out of there.” Mads reminded him.

“You got us captured in the first place!” The inventor pointed out. “Don’t ruin things next time.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do!” The Mad Ducktor countered, before turning on his heel and storming off into the lab. Why did Gyro have to be so difficult about all of this? Nothing had gone majorly wrong, the two of them still had an ingenious plan up their sleeves that the Ducks would never see coming, not in a million years. So what if the Ducks knew? They would find out sooner or later, and this way, Mads had had a lot of fun breaking the news to Fenton. His reactions had been absolutely priceless.

But the duck’s shock, fear and anger had stuck with Mads more than he wanted to say. Before the confrontation he’d tried to distance his emotions from the situation, knowing they would just get in the way of the plan. But the utterly horrified look of betrayal on Fenton’s face had hit Mads right in the heart. 

That didn’t matter now though. What mattered was getting this project done so Scrooge could finally be disposed of. That was the true goal here. 

Well that, and getting Gyro to truly be on his side. Mads would have everything he’d ever wanted, soon enough. He sat down at one of the office chairs in front of one of the monitors, staring blankly at the screen. Something wasn’t sitting right. 

He was angry at Gyro of course, for already trying to throw off the power balance between them. But the whole point of remaking the ego machine was so he could work with Gyro, not fight more. Mads absently tapped his fingers on the desk, then glanced back at the inventor. 

Gyro had walked over to the small kitchen in the lab, which was lit by one of the few real lightbulbs in the room. The inventor was messing around with the coffee pot, and as Mads watched him, he sighed and stood. 

He came up behind his original, snaking his arms around his waist and resting his head on the inventor’s shoulder. Gyro didn’t acknowledge him, just continued making his coffee.

“Alright, so maybe that was a little reckless.” The Mad Ducktor admitted. His voice turned teasing. “Is there any way I can convince you to forgive me?” 

Gyro rested a hand on top of Mads’, which were clasped around the inventor’s stomach. His tone was soft and good-natured, much different than it had been only moments ago. “I may be so inclined to do so, if you don’t do it again.” 

“Hm fine, but you’ve gotta let me make this fun somehow. If not by rubbing my victories in the faces of my enemies, then how can this be entertaining?” 

“Scrooge’s downfall isn’t enough for you?” Gyro teased. 

Mads chuckled. “Oh, it is. And you being here makes it that much better. Bu-”

Gyro sighed, leaning back against Mads, his head falling back to rest on Mads’ shoulder. “But alas, your evil thirst for the fear of your enemies is never quenched. I guess I just have to live with that.”

That got a snorting giggle, he’d never seen Gyro act so teasingly dramatic. “See, now you’re getting it!” Mads encouraged, holding more of Gyro’s weight than Gyro was. “Sooooo you’re not mad at me?” 

“Oh I’m still mad, you overdramatic dork. But I can’t change what happened. So. Going forward, let’s not let fun get in the way of the essentials, okay?” Gyro turned slightly, still leaning on Mads, but so he could see him better. 

Mads sighed, rolling his eyes. “Alright, darling. I suppose I can dial it down a little.”

“You’d better,” Gyro told him, before returning to his coffee. 

One of the monitors behind them buzzed, and Mads glanced back to see the video feed from outside the house. A familiar little robot was running up to the front door. “Oh, it’s Blacklight!” Mads exclaimed, pulling away from Gyro. He walked to the computer, automatically unlocking the door. 

The security feeds showed the little robot entering the house and running to the bedroom, and the next thing Mads and Gyro heard was the familiar moving of the platform as the little robot descended down to them. Once they were about three feet off the ground they leapt to the floor, dashing over to Mads. 

“Blacklight!” Mads exclaimed, holding out a palm for them to stand in. “You made it! Ugh, why are you wet?” 

“I had to escape by jumping into the ocean.” Blacklight explained, shaking themself off. “They locked down the Bin.”

Gyro passed with his coffee, scowling. “See Ducktor? You completely blew our shot.”

Blacklight glared at him. “Oh right, because it is not your fault too.” 

Gyro didn’t appear to see Blacklight’s blinking, he walked right past them. 

Mads sighed. “He’s still angry about it. Were you able to get anything we wanted? Parts, or something?”

Blacklight shook their head. “No. I was hardly able to get out of there myself.” 

“Well, I’m happy you did.” Mads told them, smiling. “Great job, Blacklight. You’ve done well.” 

“They still let Fenton get away, after we had him captured.” Gyro argued. He was sitting in the same office chair Mads had been in a minute or so before. “You put them in charge of watching him, and they failed. Why do they get praised for that?” 

Blacklight turned red, and Mads glared up at Gyro. “They were doing the best they could.” He argued. 

“It wasn’t good enough.” Gyro said in an offhand manner, turning back to the monitor. “They need to do better next time.” 

“You still failed in capturing Fenton, anyway!” Blacklight pointed out, but Gyro was facing away from them, and couldn’t see their blinking. This only made them more angry. 

Mads marched over to Gyro, Blacklight still in his palm. “Hey. I can take criticism for my own work, but don’t go after Blacklight’s, okay? Without them, you probably wouldn’t be working with me.” 

Gyro sighed. “From what it sounds like, you’ve gone soft.” 

Mads frowned. “Have not! Blacklight’s all I’ve had for a long time, don’t blame me for getting attached. They would defend me, so I’m defending them. Don’t judge them harshly, alright? They might’ve been captured by the Ducks, and then we really would've been screwed. This plan doesn’t work if they know about it.”

Gyro sighed. “I suppose. Now get moving, we have work we need to start. And parts to steal. Do you want to do that, or should I?”

—

Turns out, it was quite difficult for Della, Donald, Scrooge and even Beakley to fully recall the basics of the design for the anti-ego machine. Fenton pieced together a general idea of what they were going for, but it was nothing concrete that they could work on. He knew what parts of the brain the machine would have to target, and exactly how to program a machine to do so, but what the machine would actually do to those parts of the mind, he had no clue. 

Boyd and Huey had plenty of helpful suggestions, but in the end, none of them worked. 

Fenton slumped on the desk, running a hand through his too-long hair and sighing. Patience was proving difficult to come by. Tensions were mounting, and the pressure was really on.

“So ye can remember the combination of colored berries Bentina, but ye cannae remember somethin’ vitally important ta Gyro?” Scrooge grumbled. 

Beakley glowered at him. “I had to memorize all the data surrounding that case, and I didn’t think this information would be used again! You can’t remember this either!”

“Aye cannae remember the berry case!” Scrooge pointed out. 

Huey held up his hands. “This doesn’t solve anything! We need to be focusing on working this out, not blaming each other!” 

Donald looked at them. “What about Archimede? He was a huge help last time, we could call him again!” 

Fenton sighed. “I would, but every time we call him that it’s just for some kind of crisis. He needs a break from all of this.” 

“But we need his help!” Della pointed out. “He’s smart, he could probably give us more insights on this! Knowing him, he probably kept a copy of the blueprints, or something.” 

“She’s got a point, lad…” Scrooge said. 

“I know. I just wish we could find more ways to interact with him than when we need his help.” 

“He came to the wedding!” Donald exclaimed.

“But that was the one time.” Della was following Fenton’s train of thought. “Before that it was because we got a lead on Gyro, and before that it was because Gyro died, and before that it was because the Mad Ducktor had returned… And fourteen years before that it was because of the Mad Ducktor’s first appearance… Fenton’s got a point.” 

“We’ll still have to tell him about this sooner or later,” Beakley pressed her palms against the desk. “He’ll be angry that we didn’t contact him sooner, he’d want to help.” 

“If we don’t get any leads in the next hour, we’ll call him?” Fenton suggested. As great as Archimede’s help would be, it was a sad pattern of all of them only reaching out to him when they needed help or to tell him some essential news. Archimede deserved better than that, and the duck made a mental note to talk to Archimede more often.

A murmuring of agreements, before they all turned back to the notes scattered all over the desk. 

An hour later, almost nothing had happened. It had occurred to them to let Boyd search the Internet to find out as much as he could about behavioral patterns and personalities, but so far there hadn’t been any breakthroughs there. Ten minutes into that, Fenton could tell the little parrot was clearly being hard on himself for not finding anything. 

The duck stood, stretching. “Okay, I’ll call Archimede and see what he has to say, then we can figure out where to go from there.” 

The rest of them nodded. “Sounds good!” Donald said, clearly trying to be encouraging. 

Fenton leaned down next to Huey, looking across the desk at Boyd, whose eyes were blank. “Will you make sure Boyd goes easy on himself? He’s not going to find anything immediately.” 

Huey nodded resolutely. “On it!” 

Fenton then pulled out his phone and stepped away from them, clicking on Archimede’s number and holding it to his ear. 

Archimede picked up on the fourth ring. “Fenton!” He exclaimed, and the duck couldn’t help but smile. Archimede’s merriness was infectious. “It is good to hear from you!” 

“You too!” Fenton replied, and the cheer in his tone was surprisingly not forced. 

The chicken laughed. “I was surprised when I saw your name for a moment, it seems you only call me when something disastrous has happened… All good news I hope?” He finished with another laugh, clearly intending it to be a joke. 

Fenton winced. “Yeah… How are you doing?” 

“I’m good! I don’t know if you heard, but I’m visiting my moms right now… It’s been fun! How are you? What have you been doing?” 

Oh. Archimede was in Italy. That… complicated things, to say the least. Fenton let out a breath. “You know, you’re right, I do only ever call you when something bad happens. I hope that doesn’t-”

“It’s alright, I know you’re busy, especially as of late. It was a joke!” Archimede assured him. “It is nice to hear from you though.”

Fenton dragged a hand down his face. “Well… History repeats itself, I guess.” 

Archimede paused, and this time when he spoke he sounded a little more somber. “...What are you saying?”

“I… Have no idea how to break it to you, so I guess I have to come right out and say it-” 

The chicken interrupted, clearly nervous. “No one’s dead?” 

“No, no one’s dead.” Fenton told him quickly, cursing himself for how he’d started off. The last time he’d called Archimede with hard news like this it’d turned both of their lives upside down. “We’re all still hanging in there. But… The ego machine has returned, and Gyro was hit. He’s working with the Mad Ducktor.”

“What?” Archimede asked, clearly shocked. “How? Why? Why Mads? Wouldn’t Mads be trying to turn him back? What-”

“The Mad Ducktor is the one who rebuilt it. He purposefully hit Gyro with it, so that Gyro would join him in his plan to destroy Scrooge. Now they have some big scheme to kill Scrooge once and for all, and we need your help.” 

Archimede didn’t answer, and after a few seconds Fenton double-checked that the chicken hadn’t hung up before he spoke. “Are you still there?” 

Archimede’s voice was shaky. “Y-yeah, I’m still here. W…what do you need help with?”

It was just past ten p.m. where Archimede was, and the blond bird had already pulled up information on the next flight to Duckburg while Fenton explained the details. Luckily he’d only had another day left with his  moms, and was able to just switch his tickets. He’d get to Duckburg late the following day. 

“You don’t have to fly out here so soon!” Fenton said, surprised. He felt bad for making Archimede go through all of that. “We just needed to know what you remembered ofthe anti-ego machine-” 

“I’m coming,” Archimede told him resolutely. “I can’t not come help.” 

Fenton understood the feeling. “Alright. We’ll see you tomorrow, thanks for your help.” 

“Hopefully we can get this all figured out before someone gets hurt.” Archimede said with a sigh. “I just don’t know why Mads… Why would he do it?” 

“I don’t know,” Fenton admitted. “This is what he’s wanted for the last three years, but it still feels a little extreme. We’ll find out soon, though.” He wanted to be optimistic. 

“I know, just…. After everything… I don’t know.” Archimede let out a breath. “Well, see you tomorrow, Fenton. I’ll compile a list of everything I can remember about our last anti-ego machine on the plane ride, nothing’s coming to mind right now.” 

The duck nodded. “Thanks, again. Bye!” 

“Bye.” 

After hanging up, Fenton walked back over to where everyone was still crowded around the desk.

“Did he remember anything?” Della asked him hopefully.

“No,” Fenton admitted. “And he’s currently in Italy. However, he’s taking the next flight he can back here, it’s supposed to get here around tomorrow evening.” 

“He already has one booked?!” Donald asked, surprised.

“He was eager to get here. He sounded too stressed to come up with anything for the anti-ego machine, and said he’d write down anything he could remember on it during the plane ride here.”

“Ugh!” An angry groan came from the other side of the desk, Fenton looked up to see Boyd falling to his knees, hands on his temples. “I can’t find anything! Nothing works when I put it together, I have no idea how to do this! I-it’s too much!”

Huey took a step towards him. “Boyd, you can-”

“It’s all too much!” Boyd continued, unable to hear him. “I-it’s a-a-all too much for me, I-I-I’m not g-good e-enough!”

Silence.

Everyone looked from Boyd to Fenton, then quietly watched as the duck walked around the desk to Boyd, picking him up and hugging him tight. Boyd was shaking, tears already running down his face. 

Donald stepped up to them, putting a hand on Boyd’s back. “Do you need help with anything?” He quietly asked Fenton. Donald had done an incredible job at raising the triplets, and Fenton knew that Gyro had gone to him for parenting advice once or twice. 

Fenton shook his head. “Maybe in a minute,” he said, holding Boyd tighter. “I’m going to go talk to him.” 

Donald nodded, and stepped back to allow Fenton to walk past, still holding Boyd against his chest. The little parrot’s face was buried in his shoulder, and Fenton carried him to one of the storage closets in the lab, sitting down against the wall and holding Boyd in his lap. 

“Hey, Boyd.” Fenton said, trying to get his attention. He brushed a few tears off of the parrot’s face. “What’s wrong?” 

“I-I haven’t been able to figure anything out-” Boyd wiped at his eyes, which glowed a little in the dark. “T-that was the one thing I-I was s-s-supposed to do, and I c-can’t do it! I can’t d-do t-the one thing I can t-to get dad back, I’m n-not doing e-e-enough to help-” 

“Woah, hey!” Fenton interrupted as Boyd’s voice slowly filled with more panic and shame. “No one else has made any leads either. You’re not failing all of us, and if you don’t want to do this then I’m sure we can find other ways for you to help! You’re not in this alone, you have all of us, okay?” 

The little parrot nodded, wiping his eyes again.

“And we all have our different strengths. Maybe once we get started on building the machine, you’ll be great at that! I know you’re good at mapping out blueprints too. Just because you’re not sure what to do at this stage- and for the record, none of us are either- doesn’t mean that you’ve failed!” As Fenton spoke, he realized it was something he needed to hear as well. 

Boyd swallowed. “Okay, papa.” 

“You’re sure you didn’t find anything?” The duck asked. 

“W-well, nothing that I thought would help. I stored everything that could potentially be useful to us in a file, but so far it’s not a lot, and it’s just a broad idea of what we were going for. I could keep looking, it just felt like so much to work through and nothing so far that could help…”

“What if Huey helped you?” Fenton suggested. “You could find what you could, and give him all the data. Then you two could piece it together and see if it’s the information that we need. That could help narrow it down for your next search!” 

Boyd thought. “That would work! Then we could have two people searching for information!” 

Fenton hugged him tight. “Yes, then it’s not all dumped on you. You have people to help you out, Boyd. We all want to.” 

The little parrot smiled, nuzzling the side of his head into Fenton’s chest. “Okay, papa. Thanks.” 

“And next time?” Fenton waited until Boyd looked up at him. “If you are able to, tell us if you feel overwhelmed. You’re not alone in this.”

Boyd smiled. “Okay.” 

Fenton gave him another squeezing hug, ruffling the feathers on the little parrot’s head. “You’re doing a great job, Boyd. We all really appreciate your help.”

Suddenly there came the sound of running feet from the closet doorway, and Fenton and Boyd looked up to see Huey standing there, out of breath. “We- just turned on the armor- you’ve got reports of three more robberies-” 

“What?” Fenton exclaimed, startled. “When did they happen? Is there any chance of-” 

Huey shook his head. “No, they’ve already been dealt with. But I think you should still come take a look…” 

Boyd climbed off of Fenton’s lap, and took the duck’s hand as they followed Huey out of the closet and to Gyro’s desk, where one of his computers was running. The Gizmoduck helmet was plugged into the monitor, and Scrooge was sitting at the desk, scanning through the data. 

“Three seemingly unconnected robberies,” he said aloud, reading. “But they follow the same pattern of unnoticed break-ins. They only discovered the item was stolen when it went missing…” 

“That’s a robbery from the Mad Ducktor, for sure.” Beakley said. As dramatic and attention-seeking as the villain could be, his thefts were always done quietly, without any sign of anyone being there. It was scary how well he was able to get around. 

Fenton nodded. “Yes, that’ll be him. What was stolen?” 

Scrooge adjusted his glasses, leaning closer. “Eh… some paint, screws, and computer parts, from what it looks like. He might be building something…” 

“But can we tell what he’s building? What color was the paint?” Donald asked, trying to read over Scrooge’s shoulder. 

“Red and white,” Scrooge replied. “Aye canae see what he’s gonna do with that.” 

“There was really no trace of him?” Fenton asked. “Nothing we could follow?” 

Della squinted at the computer screen. “Not from what the reports say. We could talk to the police to see if there’s any extra information that they have…” 

Fenton shook his head. “No, Gizmoduck gets all of the information, sometimes before the police do. Anything they know is in that report.” 

“So what do we do about this?” Donald asked. 

“Nothing, I guess.” Fenton said. “I don’t know if there’s anything we can do, other than take this information into consideration. So far the Mad Ducktor wants paint, screws, and computer parts. We think he’s building something. We just have to wait for more clues to figure out what.” 

—

Darkness engulfed the city. The night sky above was flecked with stars, there was hardly a cloud in sight to obscure them. The weather was just warm enough that it had rained slightly that afternoon, leaving a rather damp smell around everything. 

At the money Bin of Scrooge McDuck, waves lapped softly against the supports holding the bridge out to the building. Had anyone been looking close enough, they may have seen a small purple light emerge from the water. 

It slowly began to move up the pillar, before attaching itself to the underside of the bridge. It could not be heard over the sound of the waves, and it made its way along the bottom of the bridge towards the Bin. Once it’d gone as far as it could, it leapt to a rock. 

The purple light dimmed as it moved out into the open, progressing at the same cautious yet steady pace towards the trees on the side of the Bin. As soon as it made its way up the branches, it leapt across the gap and stuck to the wall of the tall white building.

Yes, the little sticky pads that had been attached to Blackight’s hands and feet worked perfectly.

They crawled easily along the wall, making their way towards the Bin’s front entrance. They approached from above, clinging to the ceiling of the overhang and cautiously scanning for any sign of detection. 

So far, so good. They were exactly where they needed to be, right above the front doors to the Bin. 

Of course, there was no guarantee that the Ducks would leave the Bin at all, let alone leave through the front door. But it didn’t hurt to try this way, Blacklight had been unable to come up with another way in.

Their instructions were simple. Get inside the Bin with one hour of darkness to spare. 

Well, there were ten hours of darkness to go, and Blacklight thought they were making pretty good time. 

And so they waited. And waited, and waited, and waited. Anyone else would’ve given up and tried something else long ago, but not Blacklight. They were patient, and ready to spring at any moment. 

Still, their chance didn’t come for another three hours. The doors to the Bin opened, and Donald emerged, pulling Huey behind him. “-can come and help them in the morning, but being sleep-deprived isn’t going to help!” 

“But everyone else is staying!” Huey protested, letting go of the door. It started to swing shut…

Seeing their chance, Blacklight dropped like a stone down onto the ground, the sticky pads muffling the sound of their landing. They touched down just behind Huey’s left foot as the duckling walked away, still protesting. 

Quick as thought, Blacklight dashed inside the Bin before the door could shut all the way. 

Perfect. 

But they weren’t out of the woods yet, Blacklight knew not to celebrate a victory that hadn’t yet happened. Their next destination was the stairs, they took off across the empty lobby towards the door near the elevator. They were able to jump high enough to kick the bar handle and open it.

Then they ran down the steps as fast as they possibly could, making it down to the Bin’s main security room. Once inside, they leapt up onto the desk, scanning the monitors for the correct place. 

There. Blacklight walked to the keyboard, and after studying them for a moment they pressed a couple, and entered a password. The alarms on the garage door that Gyro had left through almost twenty-four hours earlier powered off. Then, just to be extra gracious, they reached over and turned off the elevators. 

Blacklight then sent the all-clear. 

The two chickens met up with Blacklight in the parking garage, the little robot ran down the stairs to greet them. Mads crouched as they came running, picking them up and holding them in his palm. “Alright, what’s up?” 

“Fenton, Boyd, Scrooge, Della and Mrs. Beakley are all in the lab. The Bin is otherwise deserted.” They blinked. 

“Excellent job, Blacklight.” Mads praised, depositing them on his shoulder and following Gyro to the stairs. 

Halfway up the building Gyro let out a grumble. “The only flaw with this plan,” he said between gasps for air. “Is that there’s too many ducking stairs.” 

Mads and his burning thighs wholeheartedly agreed with him. It didn’t help that he’d been the one stuck with the heavy backpack either. 

But in the end they made it to the top floor, Scrooge’s office. The old duck’s desk stood opposite the large and rather impressive door to the vault. The room was pitch black, but it wasn’t going to stay that way for long. 

Gyro, Mads and Blacklight all studied the door for a moment, Mads sliding the backpack off and setting it on the ground while he caught his breath. Then he bent down, and pulled the first of the explosives from the bag. “So. I’ll do the top, you do the bottom?” 

The other bird nodded. “That would make the most sense.” 

Taking an armful, Mads powered on his boots, fixing the packs of bombs to the top of the vault door, and stringing them down below to the ones Gyro was attaching to the sides of it further down. It took only two minutes, and they were standing back in their earlier positions, facing the door. 

Blacklight held the remote, which they pointed towards the vault door. “Three… two…” 

Mads and Gyro covered their ears. 

“...One… Go.” 

A blinding flash, an explosion that seemed to rock the building. The deafening boom was enough to make the chickens wince.

Smoke filled the room, and the two of them watched as the door to the vault teetered, then slowly fell outwards, hitting the floor hard with an echoing clang. 

Mads gestured into the dark hole, which was slowly becoming more visible as the smoke was sucked into it. Through it, glittering gold coins could just be made out far below. 

“After you, darling.”

Gyro smiled graciously, and stepped through into the vault. 

Chapter Text

A low, loud boom sounded from somewhere outside the lab, followed by a much quieter crash. Fenton raised his head, confused. “...Was that thunder?”

Della looked up too. “I don’t think so, Donald said the weather had cleared up when he left. But I don’t know what else it could be…” 

Boyd looked up as well, his eyes narrowing as he stared at one point in the ceiling. “Nope,” he said, blinking a few times. “It’s… it’s the Mad Ducktor and dad. They just blew the door to the vault.”

“Curse me kilts!” Scrooge was already up and running towards the elevator before the words were all the way out of Boyd’s beak. Everyone else was right on his heels, and they waited almost impatiently as Scrooge pressed the button for the elevators. 

Nothing happened. 

Scrooge pressed it several more times, but no luck. Boyd studied the wall just above their heads. “It looks like it’s stuck on the next floor up…” 

“Bah!” Scrooge exclaimed, rushing over to the stairwell door. The others were right behind him, and Fenton called the armor as he ducked into the stairwell. 

It magnetized easily around him. “Hop on!” He encouraged, and Della, Scrooge and Mrs. Beakley all latched on to his arms. Together, Gizmoduck and Boyd rocketed up the stairs at a breakneck speed.

They made it to the top floor in barely over a minute, and emerged into Scrooge’s office just as there came the sound of another explosion. Sure enough, the vault’s large circular door lay flopped in front of the hole blasted in the wall. Smoke still hung like a thin veil in the air. 

Scrooge, Della and Mrs. Beakley let go of the armor, and as one they all ran into the vault, stopping at the diving board. 

The gold coins below shone silver in the light of the moon, which was streaming in through the rather large hole that had been blown in the top of the Bin. The Mad Ducktor was diving back towards the coins, where Gyro stood, waiting. Chunks of the broken ceiling rained down around him, and Gyro just barely managed to dodge one.

Della covered her beak. “Oh… Gyro.” 

Fenton had to agree with her. It was both scary and heartbreaking to see Gyro look so much like his evil clone. 

Scrooge wasted no time in leaping into the coins, flipping in the air a few times before plunging into them. By that time the Mad Ducktor had already reached Gyro, and was shooting back up through the air with the inventor on his back. 

Boyd and Gizmoduck were immediately in the air, arrowing after the two flying figures. 

Boyd made it there first. “Let go of my dad!” He shouted, swiping at the Mad Ducktor. The villain ducked, avoiding the little parrot before twisting around and delivering a sharp kick to the back of Boyd’s head. Fenton winced. He knew it wouldn’t hurt, but it still sent the little robot flying back a few feet, giving the Mad Ducktor time to continue on his way towards the hole in the roof. 

Gizmoduck launched a few pies at him, which all just barely missed. From the Mad Ducktor’s back, Gyro laughed. “It’s going to take more than a few pies to stop us, Gizmoduck!” 

Boyd and Gizmoduck gained easily on the two, but the Mad Ducktor sped up. As they got closer, Gizmoduck saw Gyro reach into his long black coat and pull out a small black box, the moonlight catching on its shiny surface. Gyro hurled it at his pursuers as the Mad Ducktor sped up again, clearing the building in only a few seconds. 

As the box fell between Gizmoduck and Boyd, the small lights and dials on the visor went dark, and the whirring sound of the HelmetCopter cut out. “What the-” 

Next to him, Boyd stiffened. The two made eye contact for half a second, while they hung, seemingly suspended in midair, before gravity did what it always did and pulled them back down to the ground. 

They hit the coins with a loud clink of metal, and a dull screech as something in the armor tore. Luckily, Fenton was left mostly unharmed, except a sharp jarring in his back. 

He really had to stop falling from incredibly high heights, armor or no armor. He heard Boyd hit the ground next to him.

Della and Mrs. Beakley rushed over to them, they’d just made it down one of the vault’s many ladders. “Sweet Selene, are you okay?!” Della asked, helping Fenton wriggle out of the neck of the armor. Beakley knelt next to Boyd, who appeared unconscious. 

“I’m alright,” Fenton told them, pulling his foot clear of the armor. He held a hand to his head, and pulled off the armor’s helmet. “I have no idea what happened though, the suit just… turned off. What happened to Boyd? Is he okay?” 

Beakley lifted the little parrot's limp body, revealing the little black box that Gyro had tossed at them. Boyd must’ve landed on it. It was completely crushed, the plastic surface dented in and wires visible. Still holding Boyd in one arm, she inspected it. “EMP generator,” she concluded. “It must’ve been enough to take out both the armor and Boyd.”

Fenton felt a wave of relief that Boyd was essentially just switched off, not hurt or broken. Relief for Boyd, and also for himself and Gyro. 

Scrooge popped up next to them, his head and shoulders sticking out of the coins. “Are ye alright, lad?” 

Fenton and Della jumped at the old duck’s sudden appearance. “Y-yeah, I think I’m fine. What did they take?” 

Scrooge rubbed the bottom of his beak. “Aye don’t know… Aye don’t think any of the money is missin’. But then what was this all for, if they dinnae take anythin’?” They all knew that Scrooge could easily detect just how much money he had, after an occasion when he’d discovered by simply glancing around the vault that Glomgold had taken a mere eighty-seven cents.

“None of the money is missing?” Beakley clarified, setting down the EMP generator. 

“Not that Aye can tell,” Scrooge confirmed. Then he squinted. “Ye think they were after one of the artifacts?” 

“It would make sense, if they didn’t take any money.” Beakley said, and Scrooge immediately dove back into the sea of coins around them. 

Fenton shifted over to the former S.H.U.S.H. agent, and she gently passed him Boyd. The little parrot’s body was heartbreakingly limp, and Fenton held him close, already trying to recall if they had any spare batteries that would fit the little robot. 

Scrooge’s head popped up on a mound of coins a little way off. “Ah-hah! Aye think Ah’ve found it!” 

“What’d they take?” Della called. 

“Old on, Ah’ve gotta retrieve it.” The head disappeared again. 

Della let out a breath. “So Gyro’s really… he’s really been turned.” 

Fenton nodded. “It’s weird and hard to see him like that. It feels… wrong.” 

She quietly agreed. “I thought I would never have to. After the first time, it felt like that was it, that we’d defeated whatever was inside him and he was going to be okay. Then when the Mad Ducktor clone of him showed up, it still felt like we’d done something wrong, but at least we still had Gyro. Now to see him like that again…” 

Fenton was about to nod when he paused. “Wait, you feel bad about the Mad Ducktor clone?”

Della looked up at him. “How could I not? He was counting on all of us to try and help him, and I feel like a terrible friend for letting him down like that. We didn’t even spare him a thought, and no one would’ve known or cared if he died.” She shook her head, laughing hollowly. “I was supposed to be his best friend, and what kind of friend does that? Now of course I know I owe him nothing, but in the beginning I felt really guilty.”

Fenton looked at her. Della and the Mad Ducktor had hit it off so terribly and disliked each other so much that it’d never occurred to him that Della felt bad about it. “You know, I think it would do the Mad Ducktor a lot of good to hear that, if you ever wanted to tell him.” 

She snorted. “That’s not going to happen.” 

Scrooge popped up next to them again, this time emerging fully from the coins and carrying a white box under his arm. Beakley frowned. “I was afraid it would be that.” 

“Me too. Unfortunately, they got what they wanted.” Scrooge knelt down in front of them, shifting the box to his lap as Della and Fenton moved closer. 

“What is it?” Della asked, leaning forward. 

Scrooge didn’t answer, just slowly opened the box, and pulled a glass case from inside. Inside the case there was a dreadfully familiar pink gem that illuminated their faces in an eerie vibrant magenta light. 

“The meteorite?!” Fenton exclaimed, surprised. “You still have that?”

After Fenton had accidentally blown it to pieces- and nearly killed the Mad Ducktor in the process- he’d entirely forgotten about it. Sure enough, thousands of cracks were etched across the surface of the crystal, it’d somehow been pieced back together and held like that. Even in its broken state, it shone brightly.

“Aye,” the old duck confirmed. “Ah’m technically not supposed ta have this, which is why Ah’ve never brought it up. But when the Bin was being repaired Aye had one of the workers collect all the pieces for me, in exchange for payin’ ‘em full wage without them technically workin’ on the Bin. Then Bentina put it back together for me, and it’s been sitting in here ever since.” He held it up so they could see it better. “Now if ye look…” he adjusted his glasses and squinted. “There’s now three pieces missing.”

Della’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why didn’t they just take the whole thing?”

Scrooge shrugged. “Beats me. But even just the shards of these have incredible power, Ah’ve been considering using a few ta run the power in the Bin. So whatever they’re building…” 

“...Requires a lot of power.” Beakley finished quietly. “This just got a lot more complicated.”

Back in the lab, Fenton laid Boyd down on one of the desks, then left to the storage closet to grab some supplies for a new battery. Boyd had a specially made self-charging one that Fenton would have to rebuild himself. When he got back, Della was sitting at the desk, staring absently at the little parrot’s unmoving form. 

Fenton got to work, and Della watched him for a moment, clearly lost in thought. 

At last, nearly five minutes later, she spoke. “When you said it would do the Mad Ducktor good to hear that I felt guilty… what did you mean?”
Fenton looked up. “Hm?”

“Why do you think that would help?”

“O-oh, um, I’m sure you’ve already heard a lot of this from Gyro-”

“I haven’t.” 

Fenton squinted at her. “What do you mean?”

Della sighed. “Whatever you’re going to say, I most likely haven’t heard it from Gyro. We don’t ever talk about the Mad Ducktor, except when we have to.” 

“Why not?” Fenton asked, tilting his head a little. To prove Della’s point, he’d never actually heard the two of them talk about the Mad Ducktor, but that didn’t mean much as he wasn’t there for all of their conversations.

She didn’t meet his gaze. “Because we both know it’ll lead to arguing. We have very different opinions on him, and you know us, we’re stubborn. So it’s best not to talk about it. So we don’t.”

“Oh, okay… Well, you already know the Mad Ducktor’s whole story, and I think it affects him much more than we all assume. He tries so hard to look for validation, and any little thing said against him he takes really personally.”

Della frowned. “Really? It doesn’t seem like he cares all that much…” 

“Because he does everything he can to hide it.” Fenton told her. “Why do you think he challenged you personally when you called him a coward?”

She rubbed at her chest. “Yeah, and almost killed me. I still don’t get why it would help him though.” 

Fenton returned to his work, still addressing Della. “Because he wants to know that his story affected someone. That even if he messed everything up, he still got someone to care enough to feel bad.” 

“...Does he feel like he’s messed everything up?” Della asked, sounding intrigued. Fenton was surprised she hadn’t heard any of this before. 

“Yes! He regrets a lot of what he did when he first showed up, and assumes now that he’s too far gone for any kind of ‘redemption’, I guess. I know he feels like he’s entirely cut ties with all of you.” 

“Duh, he’s trying to kill us all,” Della waved a hand. 

“Well, yeah, but even if he suddenly didn’t want to kill all of you, I don’t think he’d try to fix anything. He’d be too scared of rejection.” 

Della put her elbow on the desk, resting her chin on her knuckles. “Huh. I think Gyro tried to point this out to me once, but I didn’t listen. That’s… interesting. Do you know what he regrets?”

“Where do I start?” Fenton asked, only half joking. “Imprisoning Archimede, blowing up Boyd, making things awful between him and your family, using me and the Gizmoduck armor, failing to see that everything he did just ended up hurting Gyro…”

Della thought for a moment. “I guess that makes sense. I just didn’t ever think of it before. I still don’t get why Gyro likes him so much, but I suppose I can understand him a little better now.”

“I thought I understood him too, until this whole thing.” Fenton admitted. “Archimede and I still can’t figure out why he did this.”

The pilot snorted. “Really? It’s obvious! He wants Gyro on his side and all of us dead. This was probably a long time coming.”

“...Maybe.” But Fenton didn’t know. Was it? Was this the Mad Ducktor’s plan all along? Had everything before just been an act? But why would he do that? What could he gain? He’d saved Fenton’s life a few times, not to mention defended all of them when F.O.W.L. showed up, and had created a shockingly strong friendship with Archimede. And Fenton would never forget the way the Mad Ducktor had broken down after they’d shown him the reinforced security around the Supercell, to show him that they cared, and they wanted him safe. That hadn’t felt fake… but was it?

Fenton didn’t know. This was all too complicated to figure out. 

—

Mads spread out the three shards of the meteorite on the table that had been set up in the middle of the lab. Even on their own they glowed slightly, making his purple gloves look pink. Gyro stood next to him, smirking. “We got ‘em.” 

“And no one saw it coming,” Mads agreed. “Once again Blacklight, you were incredible, we couldn’t have done it without you.” 

The little robot’s filaments bent into a look of joy, and for a moment their deep purple looked a little red. “I am happy to help.”

Gyro glanced at Mads. “And of course, they weren’t the only incredible one…” 

“Yes, you were quite amazing there, weren’t you?” Mads shot back, teasingly. 

The inventor laughed. “That was supposed to be a complement to you, but yes, I suppose my execution of that plan was flawless, thank you.” 

Mads chuckled. “Oh, I know. And of course it was.” 

Blacklight scowled at them. “Get a room.” 

Mads rolled his eyes as Gyro snorted, reaching down to pick up one of the shards. He held it up, studying the uneven surface closely. “And you’re sure these will create enough power?”

Mads nodded. “Of course they will! I didn’t need to use the whole meteorite for my Annihilator, I was simply using a fragment of its power. These will most definitely be more than enough.”

The inventor side-eyed him. “We can’t have anything overheating…” 

“Don’t worry, I figured out a way to contain it. We just need to recreate that, and we’re all good to go.” 

Gyro set the shard back down. “And you really think this will work?” 

Mads shrugged. “I don’t know why it wouldn’t. As long as we execute it perfectly, then it should all go just fine.” 

Gyro tilted his head. “Yes. Because ‘ perfect’ is an easy standard to reach.” 

“From the looks of it, you already have!”

The inventor laughed, rolling his eyes. “Oh, stop it. But I have my doubts about this, there are several things that we may not be taking into account.” 

“Like what?” 

“Getting into the mansion, for one. Along with making sure this appears realistic enough for them to believe it. And that we’ll even be able to get this all done before they come looking for us.” 

“Darling, they won’t find us here. We’re underground in the most run-down overcrowded part of Duckburg, they’re most likely looking for some old warehouse where you would expect a lair. And don’t worry, I have a sure way to get in, and if we keep it all at a distance then they won’t notice.” Mads took the last step closer, taking both of Gyro’s hands in his. “This will work.” 

“Hm.” Gyro hummed quietly, smiling. “Well then, we should get started on this as soon as possible. Blacklight, would you go get-”

Mads reached up and pinched Gyro’s beak shut with his hand. “Nope. It’s almost midnight and I hardly slept last night, and I know you didn’t sleep either. We’re getting some rest.” 

“What?” Gyro scoffed, pulling his beak free from Mads’ grasp. “Sleep is for the weak. We need to-” 

“-go to bed, so we can focus. No buts. Now come on.”

There was a small bedroom in the corner of the lab, with a bathroom attached. It took some effort, but eventually Mads managed to drag Gyro off to bed, letting him take the bed down in the lab and Mads planning to sleep on the one upstairs in the house. 

“You can’t sleep up there, you’ll get discovered!” Gyro protested, catching Mads’ wrist as the villain turned to leave. The inventor was wearing some of Mads’ spare pajamas. 

“Well where else do you want me to sleep?” Mads asked. “There’s the couch in the lab I guess I could take…”

“In here, you idiot.” Gyro grumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed. “This bed is big enough for two people. That way I can make sure you don’t sneak off in the middle of the night and try to start working without me.”

Mads choked a little. “Y-you want me to share a bed with you?” 

“I guess that’s what this is. Don’t make a big deal out of it.” 

“R-right. Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Gyro climbed into bed, flopping down with his head on the pillow. “The faster we get to sleep the faster we can start working. Are you coming?”

“Yes…” Still taken aback, Mads walked to the other side of the bed and slipped in next to Gyro as Blacklight climbed up onto the headboard. The inventor was right, there was enough space in here for two people to sleep comfortably.

…Until Gyro moved closer and wrapped his arms around Mads’ forearm, his head resting on Mads’ shoulder. “Good night.” 

With Blacklight’s lightbulb dimmed as they powered off, Mads was sure his face was glowing brighter than the lightbulb. He took a deep shuddering breath. “Good night, darling.” 

Well. This was happening. 

Mads’ mind was blank, and he could tell it wasn’t long before Gyro was already asleep. After a few minutes Mads let himself relax a little, grinning as he rested his head next to Gyro’s.

Yeah, he could get used to this. 

He’d shared a bed with Gyro before, but Boyd and Fenton had been there too, and Mads had been too exhausted to truly appreciate it. Now, he was hyper aware of Gyro’s every touch, and felt more comfortable leaning into it.

He should’ve come up with that ego machine idea ages ago.

—

Fenton didn’t sleep that night. No one at the Bin did. After getting Boyd working again he fixed the armor, and by that time the sun was up. Scrooge was working on getting the Bin repaired, leaving Della and Beakley to be the only ones actually working on the anti-ego machine.

“Papa…” Fenton looked up as he felt Boyd’s little hand on his arm. He’d been slumped on his desk, head in his hands, willing his brain to work. “Do you need some rest?” 

“Yes! W-well, no. I’m fine, we have to keep working on this-” 

“But you need sleep!” Boyd protested. “You’ll work better with rest…” 

Beakley looked up. “Yes Fenton, this is especially hard on you. You should get some rest right now, and we can wake you whenever anything major happens.” 

“But you two aren’t sleeping!” Fenton pointed out, looking from Beakley to Della. 

“Della has had three energy drinks in the last four hours and is currently vibrating, and I have special focus techniques that will help me stay awake for three days. You on the other hand have been awake and stressed for twenty-four hours, you need to get some rest.” 

She had a point. “Hey Della, can I borrow one of those energy drinks?” 

The pilot shook her head. “Sorry bud, I drank them all.” 

“Alright fine…” Fenton grumbled. “There’s a couch in the breakroom, I guess I could try sleeping in there…” 

“Yes. Get some rest.” Beakley gave him a smile that was somehow reassuring, despite Fenton’s grumpy and sleep-deprived mood. “We’ll keep at it.” 

Fenton couldn't help but smile. “Okay, thanks.” 

He dragged his tired feet to the breakroom, flipping off the light and setting his phone down on the end table before flopping down face-first on the couch. He let out a tired and muffled yell into the cushion- might as well take his chance- before turning his head and staring out at the wall. 

Maybe it was his sleep-deprived brain. Maybe it was having to comfort Boyd all day and rebuild his main battery. Maybe it was being betrayed by someone he thought was a friend. Maybe it was the pressure he felt to keep it all together, because he didn’t have time for a breakdown. 

Maybe it was the loss of his husband. 

Whatever it was, something made Fenton choke out a sob, tears springing to his eyes in mere seconds. That first sob was followed by another, and another, until the cushion beneath Fenton’s head was wet with his tears. 

Had Gyro been there, he probably would’ve hugged him tight, unsure of what to say but still wanting to show his support. And Fenton would’ve held on to him and cried, instead of wrapping his arms around himself. 

But because of the Mad Ducktor, Gyro wasn’t there. Because of the Mad Ducktor, Fenton was left here sobbing in a dark breakroom by himself. 

Had it really only been twenty-four hours ago that he’d woken up without Gyro next to him? It felt like ages ago, with how much had happened. He’d been betrayed, chased through Duckburg, knocked unconscious, forced his scattered brain to come up with some idea for an anti-ego machine, and had to fend off a break-in in that amount of time. It’d been… quite a day, to say the least. 

Really, the Mad Ducktor always went on about how the Ducks and everyone else had betrayed him in forgetting about him. But now the villain was here betraying the few people who had really reached out to him and tried to fix that relationship after it’d been nearly broken. Why? Fenton could almost laugh at the bitter hypocrisy.

But not right now. Now, all Fenton could do was curl up into a ball and cry himself asleep, dreaming of Gyro.

—

Mads was the first one to wake up. 

It was nearly pitch-black in the bedroom, seeing as there was no natural morning light. So he didn’t quite get that romantic golden glow, but Mads didn’t mind. 

Gyro was still lying next to him, on his side facing Mads, clearly still asleep. Mads grinned at the sight. He’d always thought Gyro looked especially adorable in a sleepy vulnerable kind of way when he was sleeping, and that hadn’t changed a bit. The relaxed look on his face, the soft sound of his breath, the gentle rise and fall of his body, all of it contributed to his overall sweet look. 

Mads reached up to the headboard and grabbed his glasses, which were balanced on top. Blacklight stirred, blinking almost sleepily as they powered back on, their bulb slowly brightening. 

Mads knew that he should wake Gyro up, that they needed to get started as soon as they possibly could. But everything in his heart told him not to, to let the inventor sleep and cherish this small moment. 

So that’s what he did. Mads shifted just a little closer to Gyro, putting an arm around him and resting his beak just an inch or so away from Gyro’s forehead. Blacklight jumped down off the headboard, standing on the side of Mads’ face. 

“You should get up, it is nearly ten.” They blinked. Mads couldn’t see their bulb, but he could see the light flashing. 

“Just give us a few more minutes,” Mads replied, as quietly as he possibly could. His voice was slightly hoarse from disuse. 

“To do what?”

“Rest.” 

“I suppose your fragile living bodies need much more recharge time than mine. Would you like me to go get started without you?” 

Mads wasn’t thrilled about being seen as having a ‘fragile living body’, but he knew Blacklight was just stating the blunt facts that they always did. “Sure. But be quiet, I don’t want to wake him up.” 

Blacklight jumped down off the bed, rushing to the door and leaving the room without a sound. Mads let out a breath, letting his eyes fall shut. 

He was asleep again in only a few minutes, and Gyro had to be the one to wake him up. 

“Ducktor, wake up, it’s nearly noon. We needed to get started two hours ago, at least.” 

Mads rubbed one eye. “It’s been two hours?” He asked, sleepily confused. 

“No, we’ve been asleep for almost ten hours. Come on.” Gyro was sitting up, and he patted Mads’ shoulder. “Let’s get going.”

Mads rolled onto his back, eyes still closed. “But why can’t we stay here just a little longer?” 

“Because we have to get started, dummy.” Gyro grumbled. 

The Mad Ducktor groaned in protest, then felt the soft touch of a kiss against his forehead. 

Wait.

His eyes flew open, but Gyro was already walking towards the bathroom to get changed. “Get up, Ducktor.” The bathroom door shut behind him. 

Mads’ entire face heated up, and he covered his blush with a hand. “Blathering blatherskite…” 

Where had that come from? Mads had no idea, but it took his brain a little to restart. Finally, a breath shuddered out of him, and he made himself get up. 

A few minutes later they met up back in the lab, Gyro held up one of the shards. “So. What exactly do we need to do to get the power out of these?” 

“You don’t take the power from them, you soak up the power radiating off of them. They’re quite literally an unlimited energy source.” Mads corrected as Blacklight jumped onto his shoulder. 

Gyro’s eyes glittered. “Really? That could be quite useful… We could use them again and again, for whatever we wanted!” 

The Mad Ducktor nodded. “Even a fragment of that little piece could power this whole lab, so we could always break one of these up and use them for anything else we wanted.”

Gyro smirked. “Excellent. They won’t be prepared for that either. Maybe this will work out just how we want it to…”

“I told you darling, this will all go perfectly.” 

Something flashed deep in Gyro’s eyes, and for a split second, his smirk appeared almost like a malign leer. “Oh, I know it will.” 

Chapter Text

Fenton woke to the sound of loud ringing that had him jolting upright, sitting up on the couch blinking in confusion. It took him a moment to realize it was his phone, and he scrambled across the couch to retrieve it from where he’d left it on the end table.

He had no idea how long he’d been asleep, the breakroom around him was just as dark as before. His neck was slightly sore, and his eyes were still heavy with sleep as he reached for his phone.

It was almost 4:30 in the afternoon, and Archimede was calling him.

“Hello?” Fenton asked, his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “S-sorry, hello?”

Archimede’s voice sounded a little strained. “Hi. So, there’s good news and bad news.” 

“Hm? What?” It took his sleepy brain a moment to catch up Archimede’s words. “Uh… Bad news first?” Fenton asked, wanting to get through the worst of it.

“So, the bad news is my second flight was delayed. I made it to Philadelphia, but now the flight from here to Duckburg doesn’t take off for another seventeen hours.”

That woke Fenton up real quick. “What? Really? Why?”

“I don’t know, they haven’t announced why yet. But I’m at the gate and everyone here is getting ready for a flight leaving for Seattle, I guess I get to sleep at the airport, or something.”

“Oh, I know Grant lives only a few hours away from there, I don’t think he’d mind you crashing at his place,” Fenton suggested, remembering what Gyro’s brother had told them. “I-I mean, if you want to, that might be an option.”

“Thanks. I don’t know, I wouldn’t want to bother him, and I don’t want the stress of going through security again.” Archimede sighed. “I hate flying, it always feels like a panic and I always have the nagging feeling that I’m forgetting something. But thanks, I-I might want to consider that in a few hours when my back hurts from sitting upright for so long.”

“Um… No problem? I’m sorry about that though.”

“It’s alright. Anyway, that’s the bad news. The good news is I have an organized list of everything I can remember about how we reversed the ego machine.” 

Fenton let out a relieved breath. “Oh my gosh Archimede, you’re a lifesaver.” 

Archimede chuckled. “No problem. I just hope it helps. Do you have some paper with you? You might want to write this all down.” 

They talked for another thirty minutes, Fenton frantically scribbling everything down and making connections between things Archimede had missed. In the end, Fenton had a pretty good idea of what the ego machine actually did to the target’s brain, and therefore how to reverse it. Archimede was unwearily kind, repeating things whenever Fenton needed him to and always ready to explain anything that Fenton didn’t understand. Much about the more complex workings of the mind were unknown to him, but it was clear that Archimede had done his research.

Fenton tapped the pen against his teeth, looking through everything he’d written down. “Hm… I think the only thing I can see about this is that it won’t actually destroy the evil thoughts but rather force it out in some kind of ghost… and we don’t want that floating around.”

A fluttering of paper as Archimede scanned through his own notes. “Yes, you’re right. That may be a problem… But even doing so would greatly weaken it, and as long as it didn’t attach itself to anyone else, then it would most likely dissipate in a few minutes. I can’t remember how we were able to entirely get rid of it last time.”

“So we can’t actually have anyone around when we hit Gyro?” Fenton asked. “Then how are we supposed to hit him with it?” 

Archimede thought. “Well, if we can find a way to increase the power, then maybe it will only be there for a few seconds… and that would just mean we can’t have anyone standing behind him when we hit him.” 

“Don’t worry, we’ve got a great power source.” Fenton thought back on the shards of the meteorite. Scrooge would likely let them use that, if they couldn’t find something else. “But what would increasing the power do to Gyro’s brain?” 

“That’s a good question…” Even through the phone, it was almost like Fenton could hear Archimede’s brain whirring. “I can’t figure out any major negative side effects, just off the top of my head.” 

“What would the minor ones be?” Fenton asked. 

“...I’m not sure about that either. We’re targeting negative thoughts, so really it would just make him extra happy after he got switched back, from what I can tell.” 

“Oh sweet Selene, he might need that.” 

Archimede gave a small happy hum. “You’re right. If I can’t sleep later then I’ll keep looking into what would happen if we upped the power.” 

“Thank you. But really, try to get some sleep!” 

“Oh trust me, I’ll try. I don’t know how long I’ve been awake now, but my eyes hurt.” 

Fenton frowned. “Oh no. Yeah, get some rest. Do you want me to call Grant and ask him if you can stay at his house for a few hours?” 

“No, I can if I decide I want to go down there. Thanks for the offer. And thank you so much for calling me about all of this.” 

“Of course! You’re so close to Gyro- and the Mad Ducktor, for that matter- we weren’t about to leave you out of the loop! Thank you for rushing to come all the way out here, I’m sorry everything was so messed up with your flights.” 

“It’s alright,” Archimede yawned. “How are you doing?” 

“...As well as expected, I guess. Just trying to stay positive, and I’m really trying to do so for Boyd. This has all been so hard on him.” 

“Oh, poor kid. And you’re getting some rest too?”

“Yeah, Beakley made me go to sleep this morning, I just woke up when you called.” 

“Oh no, I didn’t wake you, did I?” 

“It’s alright, I needed to get up anyway, my sleep schedule is probably going to be messed up for the next few days. How are you?” 

“Tired, stressed, and it feels like someone rubbed my eyes with sandpaper. But I’ll be fine, I can’t wait to see you again.” 

“You as well! Thank you so much for your help, again. Now go try to get some sleep!” 

Archimede chuckled. “Alright, no problem. I will. See you soon, Fenton.” 

“Bye!”

Archimede hung up.

Fenton looked over his notes one last time, searching for anything they’d missed. Archimede had given him a huge lead, and he was anxious to get to work, and see if the others had found anything else out.

Finally, they had something. For the first time in the last day or so Fenton was really able to take a breath, sure that this would work. At last he had real hope that this would all work, that they could get Gyro back and safe before anything bad happened.

He flipped through the notes. It didn’t look like there was anything that he was able to further exploit, all he could do was take it to the others and hope they had further insights. He stood, stretched, then quietly left the breakroom.

The first thing he saw was a very much asleep Della, slumped across the desk snoring and drooling. Someone had grabbed her a blanket, and it was draped across her shoulders. Beakley was standing at the desk next to her, flipping through papers. Donald, Huey and Boyd were at another desk, Boyd had the far-off look he always did while scanning through something he’d pulled up on his vision. He was reading something, which Huey was frantically writing down. 

Beakley was the first to notice Fenton coming in. “Ah, you’re awake! Did you get some good sleep?” 

Fenton smiled at her. “Yes, thank you. Archimede called me.” 

“He did?” Donald asked, looking up. “What’d he say? His flight was supposed to get here soon, right?” 

“It was. However, it got delayed. But-” Fenton set down his papers on Della and Beakley’s desk. “He remembered quite a lot about the anti-ego machine from last time, and we have it all written down here.” 

“Really?!” Huey looked up, excited. “Yes!” 

Fenton nodded. “Really. I think it will give us enough information to go by to start working on something.” 

“Well then let’s get started!” Boyd exclaimed, rushing over to him.

Fenton crouched down to Boyd’s level. “Hey, Boyd. Since you’re great at drawing up blueprints, will you do that for us? Whatever kind of ray gun you want, we’ll need it.” 

Boyd grinned. “You’ve got it, papa.” 

—

“Five hours later and we’ve already got the skeleton of it done,” Gyro said, looking up at their invention. “Not so bad, for a couple of geniuses.” 

The lab behind him was dark, but the project stood under a direct spotlight against the wall, showing the metal in all of its shiny glory. It certainly was sleek and beautiful, it was a shame it would have to be covered up by the reinforced outer shell.

Mads walked up behind Gyro, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his head on the inventor’s shoulder. “Yes, it’s quite incredible, isn’t it? And it stands up on its own and everything! I would’ve thought it wouldn’t, because of that big head.”

“Well, it’s head is- oh.” Gyro broke off as he got the joke, then burst out laughing. “You savage,” he told Mads. 

“Hm, that’s what I’m known for, my ever charming wit.” 

“Mm- hm.”

“Blacklight’s already working on the AI of this one,” Mads told him. “Do you think you can manage to make it not go evil?”

“Why, of course not Ducktor! It’s already going to be evil, with any luck we’ll manage not to make it turn good!” 

Mads snorted. “Oh ha ha. My question still stands…” 

“You’re right, the AI on this one will have to be specifically programmed, we’ll have to tone it back on how much freedom we give it.” Gyro leaned back against him, still studying their new project. “We could always make it manually controlled, so in case anything gets out of hand one of us could step in.” 

“That’s a spectacular idea, darling. That would work.” 

“Isn’t that what I’m known for? My genius?” 

“Of course, you’re the greatest genius in the world.” 

“Oh you flatter me. Don’t stop.”

Mads laughed, holding Gyro a little tighter. “Don’t worry, I won’t. Should we get back to work?” 

“In a minute. I just want to study this a little longer, in all of its perfection. We really should work together more often, Ducktor.” 

“That’s what I’ve been saying for years!” Mads exclaimed, and Gyro chuckled.

“Yes, and what a shame it was that I never listened until now. Who knew it would take a complete personality change to want to work with you?” 

“...I don’t know how to take that, darling.” 

Gyro chuckled. “Hm, don’t worry. You don’t have to right now, at least. Right now we need to be focusing on getting this done, so we can work on something bigger. I can work on the AI, and you should start on a power converter for one of the meteorite shards.” 

Mads had no idea what Gyro meant by not needing to worry right now- or even why Gyro brought it up- but he went with it. “Alright. How many do you think we should start with?”

“Just the one for this should be fine. We don't need the other two for a while now. That way you can get it done faster, and come help me with this one.” Gyro reached up and patted the side of Mads’ face, smiling almost condescendingly. “Let’s get to work.” 

He pulled away, leaving Mads confused about the inventor’s sudden shift in his demeanor. After a moment he shrugged, and turned to follow his original back into the lab.

—

Archimede was not having a good day. 

He’d had a total of seven hours of sleep in the last forty-eight hours, discovered that a friend of his had betrayed his cousin and his family, and had to pressure his exhausted brain into accurately recalling something he’d built sixteen years ago. 

When he finally landed in Duckburg, he more or less staggered off the plane, and wasn’t able to catch which baggage claim he was supposed to. So he just quietly followed the crowd of people from his flight to wherever they were going, hoping they were leading him to the right place. 

And somehow, they were. Archimede managed to easily get his bag, before standing there for a few minutes, blinking in the bright lights of the airport, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do next. 

Well, right now he needed a bathroom, then he could call Launchpad to pick him up.

Getting kidnapped in an airport bathroom was not something he wanted added to the list of things he’d done in the last two days, but unfortunately he didn’t get much say in the matter. 

The bathroom around him was empty, and he was standing at the sink washing his hands when whoever it was struck. 

They jumped him from behind, immediately wrapping something around his eyes so he couldn't look up and see who it was in the mirror. Archimede yelped, but then something damp was pressed against his beak. 

It smelled sickly sweet, and it was only a few seconds later when his exhaustion, fear, aching body and stressed-out mind faded away from him. He was forced to surrender to the absolute bliss of unconsciousness. 

Archimede didn’t want to open his eyes. Maybe if he kept them shut for a little longer, he’d fall back asleep. Return to that dark little haven where stress and pain didn’t exist. After all, if he did wake up, he’d just have another half a plane ride to sit through, unable to sleep. 

So he shifted a little in his chair and tried to drift off into that blessed slumber. 

But wait, he’d gotten off the plane earlier, hadn’t he? Yes, after landing in Duckburg he’d managed to get his bag and-

The bathroom. 

The cloth over his eyes and mouth. 

Oh no. 

Archimede jerked upright, eyes flying open and his heart rate going from one to one hundred in a split second as panic flooded through him. 

He was clamped down to a large white chair, in the middle of a small room filled with a soft orange light. There was a door off to his right, just in the shadow of the light above his head, but other than that the room was bare. 

Save for the folding chair situated across from him, where a heart stoppingly familiar person sat.

“M-Mads?” Archimede stammered out, squinting at the figure. “What…?”

“Hm, guess again.” The other chicken from him smirked. 

On further inspection, his kidnapper had a few major differences from the Mad Ducktor. His hair was styled more like Gyro’s, and the collar to his sleeveless black coat was higher, stiffer, and nicer looking . Other than that he looked almost entirely the same, but Archimede’s gut was telling him that this definitely wasn’t the Mad Ducktor. 

“...Gyro?” 

“Now you’ve got it!” The stranger praised, his smile growing. “Of course, I know exactly who you are, so let’s skip the pleasantries, shall we?”

“But- but what do you want from me?” Archimede asked, straining at the cuffs holding his wrists to the arms of the chair.

“I want you out of the way,” Gyro told him, sitting forward in his chair. 

Archimede’s mind flashed through memories of a dark, tight space, being unable to breathe properly through his gagged beak as his body was held still in the same position for days. His wrists hurting, his shoulders aching as he was forced to sit there in the dark. “Oh p-please, no, vi prego, don’t-”

Gyro chuckled. “Oh don’t worry, I know exactly what you’re thinking. That’s not what I’m going to do with you. You see, I am much more considerate than my clone. I’m not going to leave you in a closet for a few days, who would do that?” He laughed again at the absurdity of the thought. 

Archimede eyed him, confused. “S-so then what are you going to do with me?” 

Gyro’s smile turned vicious. “Kill you.” 

The blond bird’s heart dropped. “W-what?” 

“You heard me! You’re of no use to me, and if I let you go you’ll only become a nuisance, so why in Selene’s name would I keep you around? Of course, I couldn’t just kill you in the middle of a public restroom, so I thought I’d bring you back here so I can see the fear in your eyes when I finally end you.” 

The world around Archimede spun as Gyro stood, revealing a small laser gun from the depths of his black cloak. Tears sprang to his raw, tired eyes, and all he could do was sit helplessly as Gyro fiddled with the controls. “G-Gyro please don’t do this, I-I’ll do anything, per favore risparmiami-”

Gyro looked up. “Anything?” 

Archimede swallowed, biting his tongue as he nodded. There were some things he knew he wouldn’t do, but he wanted to see what Gyro would ask of him. 

The inventor shrugged. “Well, I want you to die, so all you need to do is do that for me! Don’t worry, it’ll be quick and painless, you'll hardly even feel it happen.”

“No! I-”

“You don’t want it to be quick and painless?” 

“N-no, I don’t want to-” 

Gyro held up the gun. “This is a modified version of the ray guns we got from the Moonlanders when they attacked. There are several different settings, starting at a mere stun, but for yours I’ll have to go with completely incinerated. Unless you want me to slowly electrocute you until you die…” 

Archimede shook his head, his tears flowing faster as the weight of this crushed down on him. He was going to be killed by Gyro. Gyro, his closest cousin and best friend, who had confided in and leaned on him for over twenty years now. And Gyro wasn’t truly in charge of his mind, either. What would happen if the others managed to turn him back, and Gyro learned he killed his cousin? “P-please, no-”

Suddenly the door on Archimede’s right opened, and none other than the Mad Ducktor looked in, his face lighting up when he saw Gyro. “Oh, there you are! You disappeared! I-” He caught sight of the rest of the room. “What are you doing?” 

Gyro leveled the gun at Archimede. “Oh, just getting rid of this little inconvenience while I have the chance. Did you want to say goodbye?” 

“No!” In a flash, Mads whipped his left glove off and fired a bolt at the gun, sending it spinning out of Gyro’s grip and landing on the ground a few feet away with a loud clack. It lay there, gently smoking. 

Gyro glared at Mads, who bounded into the room to stand between the angry chicken and Archimede. “What’d you do that for? If he goes back to the Ducks then we risk them figuring more things out with his help! It’d be better just to kill him.” 

Mads shook his head. “No. Not Archimede. You don’t get to touch him.” 

Gyro laughed. “Who put you in charge of me? Last time I checked it was you who came to me for help, and now you’re downright refusing it?” 

“Yes! You can kill whoever else you want, but I draw the line at Archimede. Where did you even get him from? I thought he was in Italy!”

Archimede couldn't help but notice that while Fenton had had no idea that he was visiting his moms, Mads did. What did that mean?

The inventor sighed. “I intercepted a call from the Ducks where Pitagorico said he was coming back to help them. So I kidnapped him from the airport bathroom.” 

“You didn’t tell me about this?!” Mads asked, clearly shocked. “You intercepted a call, made plans to kidnap someone, kidnapped them and almost killed them without telling me?! What is going on? I thought we were working together!” 

“I don’t have to tell you everything,” Gyro rolled his eyes. “Archimede’s death was just a side thing, hardly worth our time. I just needed him out of the way.” 

“You’re wrong,” Mads growled. “Archimede’s life is a big thing, and I’m not going to let you take it away.” 

“Hm, well, this isn’t your place to say.” 

“Why isn’t it?” 

“Because this was my side project!” Gyro had kept up a tone of cool, smug superiority during the whole conversation, but Archimede could feel the anger edging its way in now. “You can’t barge in here and take charge of it all of the sudden!” 

“I can when you’re going to kill him!”

“You know what your problem is?” Gyro stepped closer, his voice shifting to a low growl. “You’ve gone too soft, Ducktor. I thought I knew who I was working with, but apparently not! You let your emotions get in the way of too many things, and it will be your downfall.” 

Archimede couldn’t see Mads’ face, but he heard his voice shake. “I have not. Archimede is the only-” 

“Mm-hmm, what about Blacklight?”

Mads paused. 

“You see? You’re weak. You can’t even stop yourself from getting attached to a lightbulb. And now it’s your meaningless cousin who said you deserved months of absolute torture. Who’s next? How long will it be before you become one of the people you hate?” 

“I-”

“Besides, what does Archimede care? He came here to stop you from reaching what you wanted. Now, here you are jumping in to save his life. You know he wouldn’t do the same to you!” 

“But-” 

“No. You know it’s true, don’t deny it.” 

Archimede finally found his voice. “M-Mads, you know that’s not-” 

“Quiet, you.” Gyro snarled over Mads shoulder, glaring daggers at Archimede. “See, and now here he is acting all innocent, trying to manipulate you into thinking that he would! The ducking nerve!” 

Mads didn’t respond, but Archimede could see him almost visibly wilt under Gyro’s gaze. 

Gyro seemed to sense it too, and he stepped even closer, reaching up and cupping the side of Mads’ face. “Ahh, see, we all mess up sometimes, even geniuses. You needed my help a lot more than I thought you would. Clearly I need to show you how to properly seal off your heart, if you open it willy nilly to everyone around you. Only a fool does that. Are you one?” 

“No,” Mads replied quietly. 

“I didn’t think so.” 

Mads let out a breath. “M-maybe you’re right. But I’m still not going to let you hurt Archimede.” 

Archimede saw Gyro’s expression harden, and he braced himself for the worst. “You’re pathetic.” Gyro spat, taking an appalled step back. “Really, you’re putting your foot down for this sniveling waste of space?” 

“Don’t call him that,” Mads quietly protested, looking down at his feet. 

“What?” Gyro asked, his voice dangerously soft. 

Mads looked up at him. “I said, don’t call him that.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Gyro hissed quietly. Rage poured off of him in waves.

Archimede had to admire the Mad Ducktor’s bravery, he didn’t know how anyone could handle being in the center of that much intense hatred. Archimede himself would’ve buckled a long time ago, but Mads was still standing there defiantly, his hands curled into tight fists. 

And Mads still stood his ground. “I will if you’re going to insult him.” 

“Why you little-” Gyro closed the gap between him and the Mad Ducktor, raising his hand clearly to strike. 

Quicker than thought, Mads reached up and caught Gyro’s wrist with his left hand, holding it tightly in his iron grip. “Release me!” Gyro cried, immediately trying to pull free.

But the Mad Ducktor didn’t listen. “I am going to take Archimede, unharmed, back to the Ducks, and then you and I are going to talk about this without attacking each other or letting tempers get out of hand, alright?” 

“Don’t tell me- ah!” Gyro broke off with a yelp as Mads’ grip on his wrist tightened. 

“Alright?” Mads repeated. 

They locked eyes for a moment, before Gyro crumbled. “Alright.” The anger seemed to evaporate out of him in an instant, leaving him looking mildly annoyed. “Just be sure to knock him out before you leave the room.” 

Mads released Gyro’s hand. “I will.” 

Gyro turned on his heel, marching out of the room without a backwards glance. Mads let out a slow, pained breath before turning back to Archimede who stared at him, wide-eyed.

Without a word, the villain crouched down and undid the cuffs around Archimede’s ankles, then sat up and unlatched the ones on his wrists. Mads then stood, offering a hand to help Archimede up. 

To the surprise of both of them, Archimede took it. 

Mads pulled the blond bird to his feet, not meeting his gaze. “I’m so sorry,” he said at last, his voice broken and dejected, hardly above a whisper. “Are you okay?” 

Archimede shook his head. 

“Are you hurt?” 

He shook his head again. 

“I’m sorry,” Mads said again, pulling a rag from his long black coat. “I really didn’t mean for you to get caught up in all of this, hopefully this won’t happen again.” 

Archimede just looked down at his hands, which he twisted around each other, bending his fingers. He knew there was so much he wanted to say, so many thoughts he needed to voice, to scream at Mads because how dare he, but now none of it was coming. Archimede was too drained to think of it, let alone say it aloud. 

So he didn’t say anything. Clearly the Mad Ducktor expected him to, as they stood there for another minute. 

Finally, Mads lifted the damp rag and pressed it against Archimede’s beak, holding the back of the bond bird’s head for support. Something about the supporting gesture felt achingly soft, and it only made Archimede’s heart break even more.

The last thing Archimede heard was Mads’ final apology as the world drifted away from him, and he was back in that heavenly stretch of nothingness. 

—

Mads gently set Archimede down on the front drive just outside the gate to the McDuck Manor, and deposited his luggage on the ground next to him. He’d be unconscious for another thirty minutes, if someone didn’t find him and try to revive him first. 

The Mad Ducktor took a step back.

Curled up next to the front gate of the city’s largest manor, Archimede looked so small. Small and helplessly vulnerable, his hair a mess and the shadows under his eyes almost as dark as Mads’. Entirely unable to defend himself.

Archimede had almost been killed, by Gyro, and Mads never would’ve known about it. In the end, it was Mads’ fault that Archimede had been put in danger in the first place. If he hadn’t walked in, who knew what would’ve happened? Gyro most likely would’ve just gotten away with it. 

If Archimede were conscious, Mads might’ve broken down right there, apologizing for everything and begging for forgiveness he knew he didn’t deserve and wouldn’t get. As it was, the only reason Mads didn’t was because this way he had no one who would hear him apologize. 

As much as Mads hated to admit it, Gyro was right. Archimede was his one weak spot in this whole operation. Mads had successfully closed himself off from Fenton and Boyd, and he had Gyro on his side. 

Archimede however? Mads knew he’d do just about anything for his cousin, and that he could never stop caring about him. He’d known how much this whole thing would break Archimede’s heart, which is why he’d done it while the blond bird was away. Maybe Mads wouldn’t have to face him, and it would keep Archimede safe from whichever plan of Gyro and Mads’ worked. 

But now he’d been dragged right back into it, and Mads had risked his relationship with Gyro to save him. Needless to say, Mads was not looking forward to going back and talking about all of this with Gyro. He didn’t want to face Gyro’s wrath again, but he knew he had to. He had to fix this to really show that they were on the same side, so that this plan would work. 

Blathering blatherskite, at this point it had to work. Mads was too deep into it now to back out. Everything he had was riding on this all coming together. If it failed, he’d lose it all. 

Still, Mads couldn’t bring himself to leave yet. It was dangerous staying by the mansion for so long, but right now he didn't care. He fell to his knees, resting his hand- his right hand, so he could really feel that the blond chicken was okay- on Archimede’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, taking a deep breath to force back his overwhelming emotions. “I’m sorry you had to get involved, and that I didn’t have a backup plan in case you did. But this is the best I can do for you.” Another deep, shuddering breath that seemed to be pulled from everywhere in his body. 

Mads wiped furiously at his eyes and stood, looking up at the mansion. Hopefully the Ducks would find Archimede soon, Mads knew he wouldn't be able to hang around until they did, or until Archimede woke up.

So he pressed the- now repaired- intercom to hopefully get someone’s attention (the security cameras on the wall had also been replaced), then quickly backed into the woods, never taking his eyes off of Archimede. He didn’t want to leave him here alone, but he had to.

With one last deep breath, Mads turned on his rocket boots and shot off into the sky.

Chapter Text

Della woke up just as the sun set, and everyone except Beakley pulled another all-nighter. Donald took Huey home and returned to help, saying that Dewey and Webby wanted to come along next time. 

Della, Donald and Fenton all collapsed at dawn, just as Beakley woke, refreshed. The three of them were still asleep when Scrooge showed up with the kids, leaving Beakley and Scrooge in charge of running things. 

Boyd supplied them all with blueprints, and the actual ray gun was finished the first night. They were just waiting on Archimede to really begin working on the programming, but Scrooge, Beakley, Huey and Boyd all knew enough to get started. 

It was just past four the day Archimede was supposed to arrive when Fenton woke. He’d fallen asleep at one of the desks, but found himself on the old chaise lounge that someone must’ve dragged out from the storage closet. The voices around him were hushed, and the first thing he noticed was that Donald and Della had been deposited on an inflatable mattress next to the chaise lounge.

Fenton yawned, reaching up to rub the sleep from his tired eyes. Here was night three of having a completely messed-up sleep schedule. Hopefully he could get it back on track soon. 

But he wasn’t quite ready to get up yet. He curled up more, lying on his side and resting his temple on his hands as he looked out around the lab. 

Webby, Dewey and Boyd were deep into wild theories about what the Mad Ducktor’s plan could be, ranging from the return of the Terrafirmians to constructing a magical sleigh pulled by the kelpies from Moorshire. Fenton found neither of them likely, but if he had to choose he’d go with the Terrafirmians. 

Scrooge was working on something that continued to zap him, to his mounting frustration. Beakley was walking to the desk to help when her phone rang. 

She answered quickly. “What is it, Launchpad?” She waited for his response, and when she spoke again her voice was harsh and sharp. “What?” 

Scrooge, Fenton and Huey looked up, their eyes meeting for a second before turning to Beakley. She was listening closely to Launchpad’s answer. “Okay, we’re headed back right away. See if you can keep him awake.” 

Beakley then hung up, meeting their gazes as she lowered her phone. “Launchpad said he found Archimede unconscious in front of the manor's entrance gate.”

They immediately woke Della and Donald, and Gizmoduck flew all of them over to the mansion as fast as he could. They found Archimede, Launchpad, Louie and Duckworth in the TV room, Archimede curled up on the couch with a blanket and some soup. 

He glanced up, smiling as everyone rushed in. For someone who’d been discovered unresponsive in the middle of a driveway, he was acting pretty casual about it. “Oh, hi!”

“Are you okay?” Fenton asked, at the same time as Scrooge and Beakley’s “What happened?”

Archimede’s smile faded a little, and that’s when the exhaustion in his face became obvious. “I’m alright, just tired. And I’m not entirely sure what happened.” 

“What do you mean?” Boyd asked, walking over and climbing up on the couch. He seemed to always know when a cuddle was needed. 

Dewey squinted at the blond chicken. “...It is you, right?” The last time Archimede had visited when the Mad Ducktor had been at large, they’d all discovered that Archimede had been kidnapped, and the Mad Ducktor had masqueraded as him for three days. They’d only all discovered this when they’d found Archimede tied up in a closet. 

Archimede chuckled. “Yeah, it’s me.” He put an arm around Boyd, who was leaning against him. He nodded at Launchpad, Louie and Duckworth. “And don’t worry, they already checked my eyes and asked me a bunch of questions.” Sure enough Archimede’s eyes were their usual soft blue.

“So what happened?” Scrooge asked. 

Archimede winced. “Gyro kidnapped me from the airport bathroom, then tried to kill me.” 

“What?” They all exclaimed, leaning forward. Everyone began asking questions at once. 

“How did you get away?”

“What’d he try to kill you with?”

“Which bathroom? Did anyone else see?”

“Did you get to see any of their lab? What are they working on?”

“Are you okay?!”

Mrs. Beakley rubbed her chin. “I didn’t think the Mad Ducktor would go after you, of all people. You two seemed to have formed a close bond.” 

“He didn’t,” Archimede confirmed. “It was just Gyro. Mads showed up at the last second and saved me just before Gyro shot me. Then he convinced Gyro to let me go, and I’m assuming he brought me back here. But I don’t know for sure, he knocked me out. Gyro was not happy about it.” 

Scrooge held up a hand. “Wait, wait, so yer sayin’ that the Mad Ducktor wasn’t in on his plan?” 

Archimede shook his head. “It didn’t look like it.” 

“Start from the beginning,” Beakley leaned forward, her palms pressed together. 

Archimede explained his story in greater detail, starting from being captured and ending with waking up on the couch he was sitting on. As the blond bird went on, Fenton couldn’t help but feel more and more horrified. Clearly Gyro was out of control, and it was only because of the Mad Ducktor that Archimede was alive. Even then, it’d been a close call. 

Scrooge was deep in thought. “It looks like this means they aren’t as close as they want us ta believe. Ye said Gyro tried ta strike him?” 

Archimede nodded. “Yes, it also felt like Gyro was trying to manipulate him into feeling less about himself. It looked like it only worked a little, but if Gyro’s doing that all the time…” 

“So what?” Della asked. “The Mad Ducktor’s evil, maybe he deserves not to feel so full of himself.” 

“But this would mean that they’re not working together as much as we think they are.” Beakley pointed out. “If Gyro was about to murder Archimede behind the Mad Ducktor’s back, then this is something we really need to look out for. Right now, Gyro is pure malicious intent. We know he’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants. The Mad Ducktor on the other hand has the capability to have some kind of conscience, and so it’d be better if he were the one in charge of this like we were assuming.”

Fenton nodded. “Because Gyro’s much more dangerous. Anything the Mad Ducktor would draw the line at, Gyro would push it. The Mad Ducktor stood up for Archimede, but even then, Gyro tried to manipulate him into backing down.”

“And Mads admitted that Gyro was right,” Archimede added, rubbing one of his eyes sleepily. “That Mads does have too much of a soft spot. If Gyro continues to exploit that, which he most likely will, this could get a whole lot worse.”

The room fell silent as they all took that in, and tried to consider the possibilities that were opened by this new information. Fenton stared off at some spot on the floor, thinking hard.

As much as he disliked it, he couldn’t help but feel bad for the Mad Ducktor. He’d come so far in how he viewed relationships, getting far enough along to develop one with Gyro, Archimede, Fenton, Boyd, Blacklight and even Lucifer. Of course, he’d betrayed just about all of them, but such a setback would be heartbreaking for him. 

Especially now with Gyro trying to point out how weak he was. He was trying to reiterate the Mad Ducktor’s old belief that relationships were nothing but a hole in the armor he’d taken so long to construct around himself.

What would happen if the Mad Ducktor came to believe him? Would the last three years be for nothing?

“Well,” Scrooge spoke briskly, snapping them from their thoughts. “Webby, will you show Archimede to one of the spare rooms upstairs so he can get some rest-” 

Archimede started up. “You need my help on the anti-ego machine, don’t you? I-” 

The old duck held up a hand, shaking his head. “Lad, ye look like yer this close ta hallucinating clowns comin’ out of the walls or something. Go get some rest, and we can continue what you’ve already shown us how ta do.” 

The blond chicken deflated. “Alright. You’re sure you don’t need me?”

“Well of course we need you, we called you out here didn’t we?” Fenton fired off, not wanting Archimede to feel like his trip had been for nothing. “But you need to get some sleep right now so that you can help- I-I’m not trying to say you’re not helpful but you need sleep and that should be what’s important right now so that you can help in the morning if you want-”

Scrooge cut him off by walking up behind him and resting a hand on the rambling duck’s shoulder. Fenton winced a little, embarrassed. 

“Yer help will be greatly needed, in the morning.” Scrooge stressed. 

Archimede smiled. “Okay, I am pretty tired…” 

Webby ran up and grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. “Come on, come on! I can show you the biggest bedroom! It’s got these super fancy curtains!” 

Archimede allowed himself to be dragged off by the excited duckling, casting Fenton one last grateful look to try and alleviate the duck’s embarrassment. It made Fenton smile. 

Everyone stared at the open door, then Louie spoke. “So what now?” 

Scrooge turned back to them. “If our new assumptions are correct, then we need ta act fast before Gyro gets a chance to do anythin’. Ah’ll need everyone’s help.” 

—

On the elevator ride down to the lab under the old house, Mads had to remind himself several times that he’d done nothing wrong. Protecting someone he cared about wasn’t a crime, and he wouldn’t let Gyro twist his thoughts into thinking so. 

And Gyro was waiting for him at the foot of the elevator, arms crossed, a look of utter annoyance on his face. “What was that about?” He demanded as Mads stepped off. 

“You know what it was about,” Mads grumbled. “I was protecting Archimede. He’s one of the few people I have left.” 

Gyro grinned darkly as he took a step forward, poking Mads in the chest with a finger. “Oh, but not anymore. You betrayed them all, remember? He’s working against you now, and you know he’d do anything to help everyone but you.” 

“Because he’s always been on Scrooge’s side!” Mads pointed out. “We can still be close and have different opinions, we always have-” 

“Hm, but what’s going to happen when they cost one of you your lives?” Gyro asked him. “Do you really think there will be a space for him to be happy in the new Duckburg we’ll build when Scrooge is gone? Or if we fail- which we won’t- guess which one of you is ending up locked up for the rest of his life, while the other keeps on living without a backward glance?” 

He was right, and Mads hated to admit it. He found himself in the same position he’d been in only half an hour earlier, Gyro finding every way to attack his one weakness, his relationship with Archimede.

“You’ve made your choice,” Gyro continued. “And it’s not him. So why do you insist on sticking up for him, even at the cost of your new life?” 

“Because he means everything to me,” Mads told him quietly, trying not to meet his gaze. Again, he felt entirely exposed and vulnerable under Gyro’s spotlight glare. “The same way you do. I don’t know where I’d be without him. So he’s the one person we can’t touch.” 

Gyro’s look turned pitying, and Mads knew it was justified. He was pitiable. Here he was, still wanting the best for the person he knew he was supposed to hate. The person who most likely hated him at this point. Mads felt like he could collapse under all of this. Deep down, he’d known that he’d lose Archimede in this plan, but he didn’t want to acknowledge it until Gyro had tried to literally slap him in the face. And now it was too late. 

The inventor closed the gap between them, and like before, he offered physical reassurance in the form of gently cupping Mads’ face in both hands. “Hey, I can understand that. You’re flawed, just like everyone else. So many of us have weaknesses. But with my help, you can get rid of all of those, until you become just as strong as I am. Nothing gets in my way, and nothing is good enough to get in your way either. So let. Him. Go.” 

“I can’t.” Mads whispered, still not meeting Gyro’s gaze despite their beaks being inches apart.

Gyro sighed. “I suppose it would take a little while to work. But that’s what I’m here for! Don’t worry, I know all about this since I came first, of course.” He smirked, pulling away. “With you being the clone and all. Now come on, let’s get in some work before the sun goes down.” 

Mads winced and followed him.

Even with Gyro’s reassurances to ‘fix’ Mads, Mads knew that Gyro was still angry at him. He was distant and dismissive with him for the rest of the night, in a way that had Mads feeling bad every time he interacted with the inventor. 

But he was not going to let Gyro pressure him into regretting his decision. 

That night, as they both climbed into bed, Gyro moved as far away from Mads as he possibly could, facing away from him. Mads sighed and moved the other way, knowing Gyro wanted his space. Blacklight tried talking to Mads, but the clone shook his head. He could explain everything to them later. 

“Good night, darling.” Mads said into the darkness, pulling the blanket up higher. 

He didn’t get a response.

—

Fenton brought his finger down on a certain part of the diagram. “And that’s exactly how we merge these together so it will focus the right energy! We’ve got it!” 

Della and Archimede high-fived. That had been a problem they’d been trying to figure out for the last hour. 

Out above the bay, late morning sunshine shone through the water, but still wasn’t enough to fully reach the lab far below the waves. Archimede had slept well that night, and they’d gotten to work just after nine. 

Archimede rubbed his beak thoughtfully, studying the plans with his other palm pressed flat against the table. “We still haven’t found a way to completely get rid of the darkness the ego machine puts in power. That’s something we really have to look out for.” 

“Didn’t you say upping the power would do that?” Della asked.

The blond bird shook his head. “Not entirely. The ego machine separates the ‘good’ thoughts from the ‘bad’ ones, which generally has a tendency to magnify the ‘bad’ side, because that’s where much of the ambition is. That’s clearly the one in charge of Gyro right now, and it makes me wonder if maybe Mads did something specific to the machine this time to bring that out…” He trailed off, thinking. “Anyway, what this will do is force out that ‘bad’ side, just completely remove it from Gyro’s body. Before, we found a way to just destroy it, right? But this time we can only remove it, because none of us can remember how we did that. That leaves the ‘bad’ part kind of floating out in the world by itself, and since it’s just thoughts and intentions, it can’t stay together for long and would eventually dissipate.” 

Fenton nodded. “Right,” he continued explaining it to Della. “But if those bad thoughts hook onto someone else, then that person will be more or less possessed by the ego machine, which we don’t want. So if we amplify the power it will not only force out the bad parts, but weaken them enough that they’d dissipate much faster, and it would be harder for them to snag other people. So basically, in the way we have it designed, we can’t have anyone standing behind Gyro when we hit him with this.” 

She bit her lip. “That makes sense… But if it did hook on to someone, could they potentially fight it off, if it was weakened?”
Archimede looked at Fenton, then to Della, thinking. “Yes, I think they would have a better chance of fighting it off and getting rid of it that way, but it would still be pretty difficult.”

“It’s still a risk we don’t want to take,” Fenton added. 

Della rolled her eyes. “Well duh, but just in case that happens, it might be nice for us to go into it thinking we could fight it off if it snagged us.” 

Archimede nodded. “You do have a point, that is something we could try out.”

Della drummed her fingers on the table, then looked around the room. “Y’know, building this gives more appreciation towards what Gyro does. I mean, it’s taken about eight people to get this far in three days, and it still feels like there’s so much we have left. And that’s building off of something Gyro already made. He had to come up with all of this himself, build it by himself, and complete it in under a month.” She snorted. “No wonder he always seems stressed.” 

Archimede gave a quiet chuckle. “Yes, and I think even now that’s part of what makes Mads right about not giving Gyro enough credit or appreciation-” 

“Nope, that lunatic doesn’t get to be right about anything.” Della was quick to cut him off, clearly not wanting to hear anything in favor of the Mad Ducktor. Fenton almost agreed with her. After what the Mad Ducktor had done, Fenton didn’t want him to be in the right.  

“Well, think about it!” Archimede argued, still trying to prove his point. “Gyro built the ego machine sixteen years ago. And it’s only now that we all really understand how big of a task that was. He told me he hardly slept and didn’t get enough time to do anything he wanted while building it, and he gets requests like that all the time.”

“That’s just having a job, though.” Della told him. “There are plenty of other people in the same situation.” 

Archimede sighed. “I know. A lot of people don’t get the recognition they deserve. So all I’m saying is that Mads-” 

“Well even if he’s right he’s still evil!” Della pointed out. 

“I’m not denying that he’s done bad things! I know firsthand that he has!” 

“It seems like you’re trying to paint him in a too-favorable light for what he’s done. Everyone always does!” 

“I know that-”

Fenton snorted, and they looked at him. “S-sorry, you two were basically just arguing about agreeing with each other.” 

Archimede smiled briefly. “I guess we were. But I still say that Mads is pretty misunderstood.” 

“That’s it,” Della pushed her chair out, her hands in the air as she stood. “I’m out. I don’t know how you can defend him after he’s literally brainwashed Gyro against his will. He’s nothing but evil, twisted, and has no real regard for anyone but himself. This is ridiculous! Doesn’t Gyro mean anything to y-” 

“Don’t go there.” Archimede snapped, and Fenton was surprised at the amount of anger in his voice. “You know Gyro means so much to me, and I would do anything for him. I could stand here and prove that all day. But this isn’t all as black-and-white as you’re making it.” 

“Oh yeah?” Della questioned. “Then where’s the grey area? Where’s the grey area in the Mad Ducktor recreating something that scarred Gyro enough that he still hates to talk about it or bring it up? It brought him to the point of nearly killing you! And the Mad Ducktor has all of those same memories, he knows exactly how much Gyro hates the ego machine.”

She did have a fair point. That was what made this whole situation both more confusing and harder to comprehend, that the Mad Ducktor must have known exactly what he was doing. And he still did it. 

Archimede sighed. “I don’t know if I have an exact answer for that-” 

“See!” Della exclaimed. “So why-” 

He glared. “Let me finish. But I do think we should still consider that Mads isn’t just some heartless cruel robot or something. He-” Della coughed pointedly, and Archimede ignored her- “still has had to spend the last three years mostly ostracized from all of us. And you know that’s hard on a person, so of course he’s going to lash out! He’s still hurting, and I think we should consider that. That’s the grey area, that Mads isn’t evil. He’s-” 

“He’s still done inexcusable things, like our current crisis!” Della told him. “He does them all the time, no matter how much you, Gyro, Fenton or anyone tries to help him out or fix him, he continues to ‘mess up’!” She made air quotations around the words. “Doesn’t that show you anything?”

“But he’s still apologized-” 

“That doesn’t fix anything though! What has he done to show he’s sorry?” 

“He bought me and Gyro a piano for our wedding,” Fenton piped up. 

“...With stolen money. And only because he has some weird obsession with Gyro.” 

“He didn’t kill you or your family at the wedding either!” Archimede pointed out. 

Della raised an eyebrow. “You’re setting the bar waaaaaay too low. And you could tell there were a few times when he was thinking about it.” 

“He saved my life when F.O.W.L. attacked the Supercell!” Fenton told her.

“That’s just because he didn’t want Gyro’s heart broken.” 

“He helped me through some stuff at Gyro’s wedding.” Archimede said quietly. 

Della looked confused. “What kind of stuff?” 

“Just… Ghost stuff, I don’t know.” Archimede clearly didn’t want to talk about it. “An existential crisis or something. He made me feel better about it. “ 

“Okay, so far we have one thing that kind of makes up for his actions.” Della said, clearly confident in her argument. “But what does that have against imprisoning Gyro, imprisoning Archimede, controlling Fenton in the Gizmoduck armor, blowing up Boyd, nearly killing Fenton, having ducking trackers in Gyro’s clothes, completely betraying Gyro’s trust in overthrowing his mind and trying to kill Uncle Scrooge, ruining Gyro’s wedding, putting Gyro’s family in danger and lying about it? Those are just the major instances!” 

“It meant a lot to me,” Archimede muttered. Della didn’t appear to hear him. 

There was a moment of silence, before Archimede spoke again. “But Mads is still always hurting, he’s always scared, he’s always sad. He’s hiding a lot more than any of us know. He’s just wi-” 

“Don’t say ‘wildly misunderstood’.” Della snapped. “Okay, so maybe that excuses a little more of his actions. But at the end of the day, he’s still always trying to kill me and my family!” She waved an outraged hand in Fenton’s direction. “And you want me to try and make him feel better?”

“W-well, that might make it so h-he’d want to kill you less–” 

Della shook her head. “I’m done. I can’t keep arguing about this.” With that she spun around and stormed off to the breakroom. The door slammed and Fenton and Archimede winced. 

The lab was quiet for another minute. 

“Are you okay?” Fenton asked Archimede at last. The blond bird had clearly been hurt by Della not seeing how much Mads’ assurances had meant to him.

Archimede nodded, sitting down in Della’s empty chair. “I’m fine. And she’s right, in some ways. I think I probably do try to excuse too much of what Mads does. And it must feel weird for her to see us do so, because he’s literally always trying to kill her. I think if I were in her place I’d wonder how much someone who defended him really cared about me.” 

Fenton nodded, he could see that. In the end, Archimede was right. It was still a very grey area that he had no idea how to navigate without hurting someone’s feelings. He ran a hand through his hair. “So what do we do about this now?” 

“I guess all we can do is cool off and keep working,” Archimede said. “I’d go try to talk to her, but right now I think she just needs space.” 

“Yeah…” Fenton stared absently at the diagrams on the table, thinking. “What do you think will happen to the Mad Ducktor after we figure all of this out?” 

“Gyro will probably never speak to him again.” Archimede replied matter-of-factly. “I don’t know what kind of toll that will have on Mads though.” 

“How will you treat the Mad Ducktor once this is over?” Fenton asked, looking up at him. Archimede was nearly as close to the Mad Ducktor as Gyro was, but Archimede hadn’t been so directly affected by the villain’s new plan.

Archimede sighed. “I don’t know, it’s all so complicated. Out of loyalty to Gyro and just… utter shock and anger, I feel like I don’t want to speak to him again either. But I understand him too well to know that I couldn’t live with the guilt of doing that. So I’m not sure. I want to still be on his side, but I can’t after this.” Archimede ran a hand through his hair, then looked up at Fenton. “How about you?” 

“Well, I’m not as close to him as you and Gyro are.” Fenton explained. “I really only interact with him because of Gyro, even if before this I might have called us friends. So I guess how I treat him will be largely based on how Gyro will.” 

“And without Gyro?” Archimede asked. 

“I’m angry,” Fenton admitted quietly. His hand on the table turned to a fist. “I’m really, really angry about this. After everything Gyro has tried to do for him, the Mad Ducktor just throws it all away? I was with Gyro through months of him going back and forth on how much he trusted the Mad Ducktor. And they finally got to a point where I could tell Gyro was comfortable around him, and now it’s gone and the Mad Ducktor acts like nothing’s happened! That this is all some big joke!” Fenton’s voice was rising, and he took a deep breath. “I feel like never talking to him is an extreme, but right now, that’s how I feel. I just want him… gone.” 

“Dead?” Archimede clarified.

Fenton shook his head. “N-no, not that. Just out of the way, where he can’t hurt anyone anymore. This is getting ridiculous. Della’s right, the Mad Ducktor has gotten away with too many things. But I’ve had so long of excusing all of them that I feel like I’m still excusing all of them. I can’t… I can’t bring myself to hate him, because I really know him as a person. I just want him… not here anymore.” 

Archimede nodded. “I understand that. It feels like it would be easier if he just wasn’t here anymore.” 

“But saying that feels wrong,” Fenton said quietly. “Though at the same time, I don’t want to feel bad for him anymore.” 

The blond bird agreed. “I know. And I’d miss him too, that’s the most complicated thing about this.” 

“You would?” Fenton asked, tilting his head. “After all of this?” 

Archimede shrugged. “Wouldn’t you? You’ve been around him even more than I have.”

Fenton ran a tired hand down his face, thinking hard. “Yeah, I think I'd miss him.” He admitted. He didn’t want to miss the Mad Ducktor, in fact, if Archimede hadn’t said he’d miss him, Fenton probably would’ve told himself that he wouldn’t feel bad about getting rid of the villain for good.

“Would Gyro?” Archimede asked quietly. 

“I have no idea,” Fenton replied, thinking. He knew Gyro had felt betrayed by the Mad Ducktor after the villain had succeeded in taking over his mind back at Glomgold’s party. While it had led to the two of them becoming closer, Fenton knew that the experience had left Gyro very shaken up. 

Now what about this? This certainly wasn’t a last-hurrah spur-of-the-moment thing for the Mad Ducktor, like the Glomgold party had been. This must’ve included careful planning and preparation, after all, the Mad Ducktor had reconstructed the ego machine. This was a much more deliberate offense against Gyro than anything the villain had done before. Fenton knew it would completely destroy Gyro’s trust in the Mad Ducktor, doing irreparable damage. After all, how could Gyro ever feel comfortable around his clone again, after this major stab in the back? 

But Fenton knew his husband enough to know that three years of trying to develop a relationship would certainly mean something to Gyro. That the inventor had put more work into this relationship than he had with nearly anyone else. Because with them, it had come relatively easily. Scrooge, Della, Donald, had been close and easy friends of Gyro for twenty years now, and Gyro had grown up close with Archimede. Fenton and Gyro’s relationship had taken longer to develop, but with their combined energy in trying to get along and just how well they could talk to each other it’d worked out great. 

So for Gyro to work at a relationship for three years and only just really make it work, it must’ve been something he wanted. It would be hard for him to just throw it all away, no matter how much he would want to. There had been many times when the Mad Ducktor had fit seamlessly in with all of them that Gyro wouldn’t want to forget. 

Gyro would miss the Mad Ducktor. It didn’t take long for Fenton to figure that out. The villain had wormed his way into all of their hearts, and it would take much more than just removing him to truly get him out.

Chapter Text

It was dark when Gyro woke. 

His eyes flew open suddenly, the piercing green almost glowing in the darkness of the room around him. 

He was awake instantly, and ready for action. 

Gyro slowly turned his head, looking over at where Mads was still fast asleep. He hadn’t bothered removing his makeup before bed, and his eyeliner was slightly smudged. But somehow the Mad Ducktor always managed to keep his lipstick perfect, no matter the hour. 

Gyro then looked up, at where Blacklight was perched on the headboard. Their light was out, and they were clearly powered down for the night. 

Good. No one would notice Gyro leaving. 

He slowly stood, slipping out of bed as quietly as he could. The cold of the underground room bit at his toes as they touched the ground, but he ignored it. It would take more than a little chill to stop him. 

In an instant he soundlessly crossed the room, quietly opening the bedroom door and stepping out into the lab. It was never truly dark out here, the lab was always lit by the diodes from the computers. It wasn’t enough to truly see by, but Gyro already knew his way around. He didn’t need any lights. 

He stole over to the weapons closet, pulling open the doors and wincing when they creaked. He glanced back over at the half-open bedroom door, holding his breath. 

Nothing. 

Gyro then turned back to the closet, bright green eyes flicking over the numerous weapons hung on the closet walls, piled in the corners, or just stacked on the floor. He didn’t need anything fancy for this. Just something small and sharp. 

He found exactly that, a small dagger in a compartment in one of the doors. The blinking dials reflected brightly off of it, if the room were bright enough Gyro knew he could’ve been able to see his reflection in it. It was buffed to perfection, and certainly sharp enough. 

Knife in hand, he hurried back to the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind him. Then he slipped into the bathroom, placing the knife carefully in the bottom drawer in the counter. His weapon properly secured, he climbed back in bed. 

As he did, the Mad Ducktor next to him stirred, rolling over slightly so he could see Gyro. His eyes were half open, and he looked more asleep than awake. “Something wrong?” He asked. 

“It’s nothing, Ducktor.” Gyro told him soothingly, leaning over and kissing his clone’s forehead. “Go back to sleep.” 

Mads smiled sleepily, falling back asleep almost immediately, still turned in an awkward position halfway on his side. Gyro frowned, reaching out and shoving at his shoulder blades, rolling him back over and facing away from the inventor. 

With that done, Gyro breathed a sigh of relief, pulling the blankets back over him. 

He smiled to himself in the dark. 

This was all going according to plan.

—

Things felt a little better the next morning, some of the awkward tension had dissipated overnight. Even still, Gyro and the Mad Ducktor didn’t speak much that day. 

Mads made Gyro breakfast that morning, which his original took without a word, but with a faint smile. Right after that they got straight to work, their main project was nowhere near being finished. It would still be quite a while before it was done, and they needed to get it done as fast as possible.

Mads tried telling himself that the reason he and Gyro weren’t talking was because they were too enveloped in their work. They had a lot to get done, of course there was no time for conversation, no matter what kind. Besides, what did they really have to talk about?

But if that was the case, then why was Mads nervous to make a sound? He over thought every single noise he made, from the sound of his pencil on the paper, to even his breath. Was it too loud? Was he annoying Gyro and making him even more angry at him? 

When Gyro asked him to bring out the racks so they could dry the parts they were working on, Mads breathed a sigh of relief to be able to get away from him for a moment. After giving a hearty yes, he moved off to the store room. 

The racks were ten feet tall, and seemed like a grocery store aisle on wheels. There were fifteen of them, and they filled up much of the lab as Mads lined them all up next to each other. At one point he lost Blacklight in the shelves, and they spent the next five minutes wandering through the aisles, just missing each other. 

Finally, it was all set up, and time to paint all of the individual parts. It would take an annoyingly long time, but it was faster for them to just paint each one than to create a whole new robot to do so. After each part was painted, it was placed on the rack furthest from the front to dry.

“Ugh, this is boringly tedious.” Gyro growled, an hour into it. 

“Look,” Mads said, holding the parts out. From his shoulder, Blacklight was working on painting the parts too. “If you do it like this you can do several at a time, and then we get it done faster.” 

Gyro squinted at what Mads was doing, using the back of his hand to push his glasses up. After a moment he began copying him, and the two were now able to get five at a time done, instead of just one. 

Two hours into it, Mads stood, stretching his back out. “Well, I need a break and a muffin. Do you want one too, darling?” 

“Hm? Oh, a muffin will be fine. I don’t want to stop just yet.”

Mads nodded, then walked back to the kitchen. There was a pantry next to the minifridge, and it was halfway full of muffins. Mads pulled his gloves back on (he hadn’t wanted to get paint on them, and now that his hands were covered in paint he didn’t want to get paint on the muffins), took three, then walked back over to Gyro, handing one to him. 

“Thank you,” Gyro accepted it, putting down the bucket of paint, along with the parts he held. Mads sat down next to him, inconspicuously sitting much closer than before. Gyro didn’t seem to notice, until he suddenly leaned against Mads, putting his head on his clone’s shoulder. 

Mads grinned. “Hey, I really am sorry about Archimede.” 

“Oh I know.” Gyro replied, unwrapping his muffin. “But I suppose I understand why you did it, even if it was foolish.” 

“So… we’re good now?” Mads needed to know. He desperately hoped he hadn’t ruined things with the one person who was now on his side. 

Gyro nodded. “I guess. Archimede is the only one you don’t want me to touch?” 

Mads’ mind flashed to Fenton for a second, but he crushed that down. Fenton wouldn’t have a space in his and Gyro’s new world either. Maybe having the duck gone would be better for all of them. He swallowed, and spoke through his guilt. “Yes. We can do what we want with everyone else.” 

The inventor smirked. “And that’s going to be quite eventful for all of them, isn’t it?” 

Mads smiled, then looked around at the parts scattered around them, which Blacklight had returned to painting. “Yes, it is. I honestly can’t wait to see the looks on their faces.” 

Gyro laughed. “Oh, I’m going to need a recording of that so I can look back on it if ever I need a good laugh.” 

Mads chuckled, then rested his beak on Gyro’s head. “But with me around, you know I’ll be there to cheer you up, too.” 

Gyro lifted his head, leaning away from Mads for a second before leaning in and nuzzling his beak against Mads’. The Mad Ducktor’s heart jumped for a second, his face going bright red. 

The inventor appeared oblivious. “Oh, I know. And I just can’t wait for all of this to come together.” He told Mads softly.

Despite their beaks already touching, Gyro leaned in even closer, his eyes closing as he tilted his head slightly.

Oh.

Oh.

They were kissing.

Gyro was kissing Mads.

Mads squeaked as his face turned redder than it’d ever been in his entire life, his eyes blown wide in shock. Gyro hardly noticed, tilting his head a little further and kissing Mads a little harder. 

Having no idea what he was doing, Mads leaned into it, pressing further against Gyro as he closed his eyes, surrendering to the feeling. Mads had never been kissed before, so this was entirely new.

And oh blathering blatherskite. Mads loved it. It lit a fire in his stomach that made his feathers fluff up and his heart pound, and suddenly he wished they’d done this a lot sooner.

Gyro’s hand came up to cup the side of Mads’ face, pulling him closer. The action made Mads whine, and Gyro just kissed him harder. That earned another noise, this one much more desperate than the last. 

Mads had no idea how long they kissed for, but long enough that both of them were breathless when they pulled back. Mads wanted to chase Gyro’s beak, to do that again and again and again, but he stopped himself. He’d told himself at the beginning that he’d leave the pace of their relationship up to Gyro, and he would stand by that. 

“Gyro…” Mads breathed, just opening his eyes. Had that really happened? Gyro had kissed him? 

But the inventor just smirked, returning his head to Mads’ shoulder as the clone tried to gather his thoughts and calm his racing heart. Gyro’s out-of-the-blue kiss had sent Mads’ mind entirely spinning, and it took a Storkulean effort to get it to stop. “I-I can’t wait either,” he was finally able to stammer out. 

He couldn’t see Gyro’s dark grin.

“Halfway through!” Blacklight blinked happily. Mads glanced up, checking the clock and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his spread knees. 

It was nearly seven.

He groaned, his head falling forward in defeat. Next to him, Gyro looked similarly annoyed. “At this rate, it will take us all night to finish these!” The inventor set down his tools in a huff. “And I need some food.” 

“I second that,” Mads set down his stuff as well, then looked at Blacklight. “You keep working.” 

Blacklight saluted, and continued as Gyro and Mads stood, walking to the kitchen together. “Is it really worth doing all of this?” Mads asked, leaning against the counter as Gyro dug through the pantry, looking for something other than muffins for dinner. 

“Of course!” Gyro replied. “We need this to look as real as we possibly can. The better it looks, the better this will go. So even if this is tedious, we still need to get it done.” 

“Well, maybe I can start on the machine that will fit them all together?” Mads asked with a hopeful smile. He would do anything to get out of spending the next eight hours painting.

Gyro sent him an unimpressed frown. “Nice try. There’s spaghetti in here, right?” 

“Yeah, bottom right, probably behind some muffins. So I can’t get to work on it? We could get this finished faster if I started now…” 

“Nope, you’re not getting out of this that easily.” Gyro smirked, retrieving the box from the back of the pantry. He leaned in and gave Mads a quick kiss on the beak as he walked past him. Mads blushed brightly, and watched as Gyro pulled a pot from one of the cupboards. “Will you start on the sauce?”

It took Mads’ brain the usual ten or so seconds to restart after Gyro’s soft contact before he could process the inventor’s words, then get to work on what Gyro had asked him to do. 

They ate in the office chairs, rolling them to the middle of the lab and finishing their meal. Mads was sitting crossed legged in his, while Gyro had one knee over the other, staring off into space as he thought. 

Mads was thinking hard too, and after a few minutes he spoke. “What are we?” 

“Hm?” Gyro glanced at him, confused. 

“What are we?” Mads repeated. 

“Birds…? Chickens?”

Usually that would’ve made Mads snort, but he was too lost in thought. “No, what is our relationship? Are we just partners in crime? Or something more than that?” 

Gyro squinted. “I’m not sure where this is coming from. We’re teammates, right? You’re the clone running the operation, and I’m following along with your plan to try and achieve our goal.” 

“Yes, but…” Mads thought more, wondering if this was all in his head. “But what about how close we are? Normal teammates don’t go up and hug each other from behind, or tap beaks or… um… kiss… or anything like that. I just… I want to know if there’s more to this than that.” 

“Do you want there to be?” Gyro asked, tilting his head. 

“Yes! You… you know how I feel about you.”

Gyro took his last bite of spaghetti, thinking. “I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

“Alright,” Mads smiled encouragingly as Gyro stood. “I just thought I’d ask what you thought of all of this.”

The inventor nodded, then looked over at where Blacklight was still working. “Hurry up, we need to get working again.” With that he turned and walked over to the sink, leaving Mads internally crossing his fingers for good luck.

As luck would have it, Mads got his answer only a few hours later. It was nearly midnight when he felt he needed a break again, stretching and standing. He picked up his tray of parts, then walked it back along the shelves until he got to the last available space, sliding it in next to the other drying parts. 

When he got back, Gyro was leaning back a little, a thoughtful look on his face. “You know, Ducktor.” He said after a moment. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said.” 

“About what?” Mads asked, sitting back down. He frowned slightly at the name. While this team-up was everything he’d wanted, he disliked that Gyro called him ‘Ducktor’ now, for some reason. It just felt so formal, and Mads wanted their relationship to be more than that.

“Our relationship,” Gyro didn’t look up at him, he was meticulously painting. “And what it really is.” 

“O-oh, what did you decide?” Mads’ heart leapt. Did Gyro want to take it farther?

The inventor didn’t respond for a moment, he looked like he was trying to figure out how to phrase it. “Well,” he said at last. “I certainly have enjoyed teaming up with you. It has led to a lot of different insights.” 

“I’ve enjoyed teaming up with you as well!” Mads replied, unsure of where Gyro was going with this.

“However, it has made me think.” Gyro tilted his head a little, examining the part he was working on from a different angle. “Do we truly need two of us for this little operation? Surely just one of us could pull it off.” 

“I-I don’t know, I always thought it would require two. Why?” 

Gyro finally looked up at him, his green eyes curious. “But did you think that because it was true, or because you wanted an excuse to finally use the ego machine on me?” 

“I…” Mads trailed off, thinking hard. “I don’t know.” He admitted after a moment. “I suppose this could be a one-person job, but it would still be incredibly difficult for just one.” 

“Well, overcoming difficult things is what Gyro Gearloose does best, isn’t it?” Gyro asked with a smile. “And you of course, being the clone of me.” 

Mads really didn’t like the way Gyro continued to bring up the clone thing. “I guess…” 

“So, you think both of us don’t really need to be working on this, do we?” Gyro clarified.

But Mads was confused. “Where are you going with this? Do you want me to go do something else? Do you want to go do something else? We can take a break and sleep, if that’s what you’re going for.” 

Gyro waved a hand. “No no, I’m fine where I am. I’m sure I’ve said, your plan is genius. It would be an honor to continue working on it. However I don’t think it requires both of us.” 

“...So you’ve said.” Mads squinted at him. Blacklight had looked up too, just as confused by the conversation as Mads was. 

“In fact,” Gyro sat up a little. “You aren’t necessary to this plan at all, are you?” 

“What?” Mads asked, wondering where that had come from. “What in Selene’s name do you mean? Of course I am! This is my plan to finally get rid of Scrooge!” 

“Yes, but anyone of my IQ level- though granted, there aren’t many- could pull this off. Since I’m here to do that, what are you doing here?” 

“Helping…? Darling, what are you talking about?” 

“I’m just saying, I think your presence here is a little excessive, is all.” Gyro shrugged. “You don’t need to be here, do you? My end result would still be the same, with or without you. At this point you just seem to be another mouth to feed, another variable in this whole equation.”

Mads didn’t know what Gyro was implying, but something about it had him on edge. His heart rate picked up as the feathers on the back of his neck prickled. His left hand twitched. He immediately and subconsciously went into defense mode, watching Gyro’s every movement closely.

The inventor continued. “At this point, you’re a little expendable, wouldn’t you say so?” 

That was it. Mads leapt to his feet. From right next to him, Blacklight did as well, their bulb flashing red for a second. “Hey now, you don’t have to-”

Gyro chuckled. “Oh, don’t take it personally. I would’ve thought the same of anyone else working in your place, it just so happens to be you.” 

“...That’s implying that this is your operation.” Mads pointed out. “May I remind you-” 

“But isn’t it though?” Gyro asked him. “Sure, you may have turned me, but I’ve had you wrapped around my finger since the start of this. I convinced you to let us try and capture Fenton prematurely, even though you didn’t want to. I got you to feel bad for my plan messing up. Hell, I even got you to apologize for saving your cousin’s life!” Gyro laughed. “You think you’re in control here?” 

“Because I respect you!” Mads defended. “And even so, we’re still following my plan. I was the one who wanted to kill Scrooge first. You can’t just come in and-” 

Gyro stood, and Mads broke off. The inventor stalked a little closer, making his clone take a few steps back. Something in Gyro’s attitude unnerved him. “Oh, you came first?” Gyro asked, still walking towards him. 

“Yes! I’ve been working on this for three years-” 

Gyro clicked his tongue, and Mads felt his back collide with the first row of drying racks behind him. The inventor closed the gap between them, shaking his head. “Oh you poor naive thing. You’re the clone here, remember? I was always first!” 

“But I-”

“Nope,” Gyro cut him off. “Everything you do will only be a shadow of my actions. Because that’s all you are! A mere copy and paste of me, with a head full of insane ideas.” Gyro laughed. “Where did you get the idea you’d be more?” 

Mads’ heart was pounding as he was cornered, but he was too focused on Gyro’s words to realize how vulnerable he was right now. “But I am more than that!” He protested. “I-” He broke off as Gyro reached up to run a finger along the underside of his beak.

Pure pity filled Gyro’s gaze. “I don’t know who told you that, but they lied, Ducktor.”

“Y-you did,” Mads stammered, his head spinning. 

The inventor smirked. “Oh, and do you really think I’m entirely honest? Then, it was just to keep you happy and under control. Now, you’re of no use to me. You’re simply just a clone, and a now useless one at that. So I’ll ask you again, why are you still here?” 

“Because- I-” Mads was trying to frantically gather his thoughts. What was going on? A moment ago, they’d been quietly working together in a comfortable silence. Now, it felt like Mads’ whole world had been shattered.

“See, you can’t even think of a reason!” Gyro pointed out. “You really can’t prove to me why you’re not just the same expendable clone you’ve always been! So.” Suddenly a knife appeared in Gyro’s hand, it looked as if he’d pulled it from nowhere. The blade was long and sharp, polished until it shone. “How about I get rid of some old junk?” 

In that instant, Mads realized what was happening. He instinctively shoved Gyro away from him before the other could strike, and leapt away from the shelves, not wanting to get cornered again. 

Hands out, tensed for action, Mads watched as Gyro regained his footing, glaring over at Mads. “Gyro, what is going on? I-” He broke off again as Gyro made a stab with the dagger, and Mads was forced to dodge it.

“I said, you’re just excess weight. Why not get rid of you?” Gyro asked, tilting his head. “I can do this on my own, so what is your purpose here?” 

“To help?” Mads asked, slowly backing up. Gyro was driving him back along the aisle, herding him towards the shelves. 

“Hm, then it seems you’ve forgotten the core thing about being Gyro Gearloose. But I don’t blame you, your little clone mind has been misguided for three years now.” 

“Stop calling me that!” Mads asked, still backing away from him. One arm out, one arm behind him, crouched down slightly, watching Gyro’s every movement. 

“Why? It’s what you are.” Gyro pointed out. “Anyway, it’s about time I remind you of something you’ve clearly forgotten.” 

In a flash, Gyro dashed towards him, knife out. Mads hardly had time to act, so he lifted his left hand, and the dagger clashed loudly against the metal of his hand. Mads’ terrified green eyes met Gyro’s hate-filled ones. 

“I don’t need help,” Gyro hissed. “I don’t need anyone. I work alone.” 

With that he twisted the knife, aiming for Mads’ stomach. The Mad Ducktor just barely deflected it, and was able to scramble away from him, putting more of a distance between them. He continued backing up, walking along the racks. 

Gyro was still talking, smirking all the while. “Honestly, it’s an insult to me that you came to ask for my help! Don’t you remember anything?” 

“I’m not you!” Mads exclaimed. “I’m-” 

“A clone playing dress-up.” Gyro finished, rolling his eyes. “A copy who gave itself a name. But what’s the point of that, when you already have a great one?”

“G-Gyro, please-” 

“Clearly you don’t know that Gyro doesn’t beg either. I take what I want. And I want you gone.” Gyro dove forward again, but Mads saw it coming. He turned and ran along the rows of shelves, which flashed past him. At the end he dashed around the corner, running along the aisle to the other side. 

Where he was met by Gyro, nearly colliding him as Mads ran around the edge. “Stop fighting me!” Gyro sounded exasperated as Mads stumbled back, before turning to run again. “I’ll get you sooner or later!” 

“Blacklight!” Mads shouted, dashing to the other side of the aisles, then running along the edge again. “Where are you?” 

They both had to get out of here. Now.

But Gyro was faster than Mads had expected, and it wasn’t long until his original jumped in front of him again, his blade swinging outwards. Mads just barely ducked in time, and was forced to run backwards, away from where they'd been painting earlier, and away from the only exit to the room. 

The elevator. He had to get to the elevator. Gyro would keep trying to corner back here in the racks of parts. 

Mads ducked into a random aisle, hoping to double back on himself and confuse Gyro. But the inventor ran right after him, just on his heels as Mads ran. “Blacklight!” Mads shouted again. He wouldn’t leave without them. 

“Still calling for help, I see.” Gyro growled from right behind him. Mads tried to speed up, but he was going as fast as he possibly could. “Even now, you can’t just accept your fate!” 

At the end of the aisle Mads turned right towards the elevator, but Gyro jumped in the way, forcing the Mad Ducktor to turn back to the end of the room. Mads didn’t care. He just needed to stay ahead of Gyro and get away. 

Mads ran to the end and made a sharp left, glancing behind him. Gyro didn’t follow, he must be expecting to jump in on the other side. 

In an instant, Mads turned back around, retracing his steps towards the end of the aisles. He stopped at the corner, cautiously peering around the end. 

No sign of Gyro. 

With that Mads took off running as fast as he could, this time in the right direction towards the elevator. 

That’s when Gyro leapt from the next row of shelves, dagger out, pointed right at Mads chest. Mads ducked just in time with a startled yelp, throwing himself to the side. He tripped over his long black coat and fell to his knees, but jumped back to his feet and ran off along the passage in an instant. 

“Blacklight! The elevator!” Mads shouted. They must’ve gotten lost looking for Mads amongst the shelves. “I’m- agh!-”

He broke off with a strangled yelp as something pulled hard on the back of his coat. Gyro had caught on to the end and yanked him backwards, Mads felt the tip of the blade just cut through the black fabric on his back before he twisted, and the knife shot right past him. 

Mads managed to pull free of Gyro, but then was forced to run backwards, away from the exit once more. 

He ducked into a random aisle and ran partway through it while Gyro was still trying to regain his footing. He hadn’t seen where Mads had disappeared to. 

Mads heard a sickeningly dark laugh echo through the shelves as he stood there, gasping for air and waiting to see what would happen. “Oh Maaaaaads~” Gyro singsonged, and the Mad Ducktor shivered. He never wanted to hear his name said like that. 

Mads quietly stole to the end of the aisle, wanting to put as much distance between him and Gyro as he could. He turned the corner and pressed his back up against the end, peering around the other side to try and catch a glimpse of his original. 

The way was clear. 

The Mad Ducktor dove to the next aisle, leaning up against the end once more. He had no idea where Gyro was now, just that he was on the other end of the aisles. Peeking around the edge of this one, he didn’t see Gyro again. 

So he continued, slowly and cautiously moving his way towards the elevator. He didn’t hear a thing from Gyro. 

And he was only two more rows of shelves away from his goal when Gyro appeared. Mads was running to the next aisle when Gyro suddenly leapt from behind it, grinning maniacally. Mads only caught a glimpse of the wild green eyes before he was running for his life down the aisle. 

But Gyro was faster. 

The inventor lashed out with the knife, and that was it. 

Mads fell to the ground with a scream as white-hot agony erupted along his back. If a cut was a sting, then this was the whole hornets’ nest, aimed right at him. He landed hard on his elbow, screeching in pain. 

Through the agony he faintly heard Gyro’s laughter, high and filled with malice. Mads struggled up onto his side, trying to drag himself away from the inventor, even in his weakened state. He had to get away from here. 

Gyro brought his foot down on Mads’ trailing black coat, and the Mad Ducktor now had nowhere to move. He could already feel the sickening sensation of blood running down his back.

“Ah ah ah, you’re not going anywhere.” Gyro said smugly. “You’re dead, Ducktor.” 

“Gyro-” Mads gasped through his whimpers of pain, feebly pulling on his coat, trying to free it from Gyro's foot. “Please, I’ll do whatever you want just-” 

“I want you gone.” Gyro told him simply, leaning down a little. Mads was on his side, holding himself up on one arm, hardly able to hear the other bird through the pain coursing through him. 

“But-”

“Oh face it Ducktor, didn’t you know I’d want you gone eventually? You’re a waste of space! You’ve always been just a copy of me, and that’s all you’ll ever be, no matter how much you try! You’re absolutely useless, especially injured like this. So why don’t I just put you out of your misery?”

If Mads had a hard time thinking of a response then, he definitely did now. His mind was growing hazy, he could feel the tears running down his face. Blood was beginning to pool around him, and the thought made him sick. 

“Because-” 

“Look at you!” Gyro exclaimed, humor filling his voice, as if he were laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. “You can’t even go down with dignity, you have to go pleading to me for mercy! You truly have been misguided. You’re just a poor, deluded little clone who fought too hard for a future he’d never get. I admire your strength, but you have to admit, you’re outright delusional.” 

Mads could feel his strength fading, he couldn’t even bring himself to lift his head and look at Gyro. He whimpered, swaying slightly and nearly collapsing. 

This was it. This was his end. Taken down by a monster he’d created out of greed. This plan had utterly failed, and Mads was paying the price for it. He’d ruined the lives of everyone around him for nothing. 

Gyro laughed again. “Stop denying it, clone. Even the way I am now, all you’ve done is completely model your life and appearance after mine!” Gyro crouched down, grabbing Mads’ face and yanking him upwards, facing him. Mads yelped, tears running down his face as his wide and hazy eyes met Gyro’s. 

“Your hair…” with his other hand, Gyro reached up and ran a hand through Mads’ purple hair. His touch was surprisingly soft. “Your outfit…” the hand ran down Mads’ face and neck, coming to tug on his bow tie. “Your glasses…” And now Gyro’s hand came back up, adjusting Mads’ glasses for him. “Your personality! All after me. Gyro Gearloose. Why can you not see that you’re just my little clone?”

He had a point there. Mads had wanted so badly to be like the Mad Ducktor from before. That one had been there to protect Gyro, to stand up for him when no one else would. Because Mads needed something strong to protect him, and he’d come to the realization that it would only have to be himself. In fact, Mads had grown proud of how much he’d been like the original Mad Ducktor, while still feeling like himself.

But if that was just another facet of Gyro, then what was the point in trying to prove that he was different?

Gyro could see the emotions warring on Mads’ face, even through the pain. “See, you know I’m right! Really, you couldn’t even see that all along you were just trying to be me?” The inventor laughed again. “Truly, you are foolish.”

Gyro’s voice was fading as the pain grew, Mads gasped and squeezed his eyes shut. The ground around him was slippery with his own blood, he knew he was going to collapse at any moment.

“Look at me,” Gyro snarled, pulling Mads’ face closer. “I want to see the life fade from your eyes as I bring you to the end. Any last words?”

“Darling-”

Before Mads could finish, something flew from the shelves right next to them, hitting Gyro hard on the side of the face. He went careening to the rack next to him, and his temple collided hard with the metal shelves. Gyro screeched in pain.

And then Blacklight was there, landing next to Mads and blinking frantically. “Come on father, get up! Please!” 

This was Mads’ chance to finally get away, and he did what he could to seize it. As Gyro slumped against the shelves, his glasses knocked askew, Mads managed to struggle to his feet and limp off along the aisle, blood trailing behind him.

“Is he unconscious?” Mads asked Blacklight, who had leapt up on his shoulder. 

“I am unsure. I think he hit his head hard enough. But we have to go.” 

Mads didn’t need telling twice. He made it to the elevator, running off of pure adrenaline. Knowing he probably didn’t have time to wait for it, he powered on his boots and shot up through the hole in the ceiling. 

He shakily threw open the doors of the armoire, and it wasn't long until he was out into the house, staggering through the halls and leaning much of his weight on the walls for support. As soon as he made it out into the night, he launched up into the air. 

At this point Mads was running on nothing but adrenaline, he was left shaky with the drops of blood that ran down his back sputtering and evaporating in the flames from his rocket boots. He swayed drunkenly about fifty feet off the ground. 

“Stay awake!” Blacklight flashed, purposely too bright. The sudden light startled Mads, waking him up slightly. 

“Where do we go?” Mads asked, his hope fading. He was hardly able to stay in the air as it was, he knew he probably wouldn’t make it to a safe space. This would end in him passing out from blood loss and falling to his death. 

“Who would take us in?” The little lightbulb asked, trying to keep Mads focused while he could still think. 

There was only one person who Mads could think of who might not entirely hate him at this point. It was a long shot, but he would take just about anything right now. He knew he needed help, and he needed it fast. 

After taking a moment to get his bearings, Mads shot off above the city, leaving the smell of burning blood behind him. 

—

Bentina Beakley, also known as Agent 22, former S.H.U.S.H. agent and current grandmother and housekeeper, woke with a gasp, sitting right up in bed. 

It had felt as if something frigid had passed right through her, and as it’d pulled away, it’d taken some of her with it. There came a strange sensation of being stretched before something snapped, and she was flung back into her own body. 

As soon as Beakley caught her breath she scowled. “Duckworth! How many times have I told you not to wake me up like that?!” 

Sure enough, the ghost butler who’d just passed through her was floating at the edge of the bed. “Exactly seventy-four, Bentina.” He replied. “But there’s someone at the door.”

“So then answer it!” Beakley grumbled, lying down and rolling over so she was facing away from him. “Why do you have to wake me up, you’re the demon butler!” 

Duckworth passed to the other side of the bed, going right through both it and her. Beakley yelped again, jerking back up. “Stop doing that!” She hissed. 

“The person at the door needs help from someone who’s alive, I can’t do much except wake you up to help!” Duckworth told her. “And I know Mr. McDuck would not be happy to be woken up like this-”

“So you came to me?” Beakley grumbled, throwing the blankets off and standing. She knew Duckworth wouldn’t leave her alone until she answered the door. “Who’s at the door?”

But seeing that Beakley was going to get the door, Duckworth had already vanished. 

“Blasted phantasm,” Beakley grumbled, glancing at the clock. It was currently one in the morning, and she was obviously not happy to be woken up like this. She made her way down the hall to the foyer, whoever was knocking at this time of night would have to deal with seeing her in her nightgown; she didn’t want to make accommodations for anyone who showed up unannounced this late.

She was a few feet from the foyer when she heard the knocking. Several harsh pounds, a few seconds of waiting, before the pounding picked up again. 

And as she got closer, she became aware of a soft tapping on the door as well, which would pick up whenever the pounding stopped. It didn’t sound like anything human, almost like the noise someone’s jacket zipper would make on the wood. But it was too rhythmic to be something done accidentally. 

The pounding came again. “Alright, alright, I’m coming!” Beakley called. 

The knocking stopped, but the little tapping started up again, this time more frantic sounding. Covering her beak in case this was an assailant with any gas bombs and readying herself for an attack, Beakley opened the door. 

An attack was not what she got.

The last time the Mad Ducktor had passed out on someone’s front porch he’d been able to get in a couple words before he collapsed. But not this time. This time, he was already halfway to the ground by the time Beakley opened the door, and she just barely managed to catch him, lunging forward and landing on her knees.

“What on Earth…” Beakley looked at the very unconscious Mad Ducktor, utterly bewildered. What was he doing here? He had quite some nerve to come back. Why was he unconscious? 

She jumped when a little robot seemed to appear out of nowhere, leaping up onto the Mad Ducktor’s stomach and frantically waving its arms at her, blinking. It looked like Gyro’s Lil’ Bulb except its light was a black light, instead of the usual incandescent bulb. “W-what is going on?” She asked it, utterly confused.

It began a series of frantic blinks, almost none of which Beakley understood. However, there was one that she was able to decipher from the rest. 

Three quick flashes, three longer ones, then another set of three fast blinks. An S.O.S.

Save our souls.

Nearly at the same time, Beakley suddenly noticed the warmth that was flooding over her arms in waves, slowly wetting them. She shifted the Mad Ducktor in her arms, and immediately recognized the red soaking through the villain’s cloak and her sleeves. 

“Oh my god,” she gasped, climbing to her feet, the villain’s body still limp in her arms. No matter what he’d done in the past, the Mad Ducktor needed help, immediately. “Where is all of this coming from?!”

Chapter Text

Mads woke up, and for a few seconds he was Clone Eleven again. 

He was back in the H.O.U.S.E., head pounding, mouth dry, lying on the small uncomfortable bed. His vision fuzzy, body aching from his numerous cuts and bruises. 

His left hand gone. 

He whimpered, shifting a little, his eyes squeezing shut. He was lying on his stomach, head turned to the side, his cheek pressed against something hard. He was to the point where he felt altogether numb, like his body had just given up on feeling the pain.

Hold on, he didn’t remember the bed being this hard-

He felt a hand rest on the back of his head, and suddenly everything clicked. He was the Mad Ducktor, not Clone Eleven. That part of him had been left behind a long time ago, forgotten to the past where it belonged.

As for what the hand belonged to, Mads suddenly heard a voice talking quietly to him. “Shhh, you’re safe. Don’t move.” The voice was commanding, but at the same time, softly reassuring. Mads immediately trusted it.

But he couldn’t just lay here. What was going on? Why did he feel so numb? He moved, gasping again with the effort. 

The hand on the back of his head gently tried to hold him down, and the voice came again. “Don’t move. You’ve lost a lot of blood, and I’m trying to close this wound on your back.” The hand slowly retreated.

Well, that explained the numbness. Mads opened his eyes, and gasped at the sudden bright light that seemed to shine piercingly right into the back of his head, making his headache that much worse. He flinched as well, squeezing his eyes shut with another whimper.

He felt something being pressed against his face, and slightly lifted his head so part of it could slide against his right temple. Just that felt like a huge effort, and as he let his head drop down again he realized it was his glasses. 

This time when he slowly blinked his eyes open the brightness of the world around him was significantly darkened due to the tinted lenses, enough that it didn’t aggravate his headache. Blacklight came into focus in front of him, standing on whatever Mads was lying on, extending their hand to rest on Mads’ beak.

“You will be okay.” They flashed dimly. 

Mads smiled faintly at them, swallowing. His throat felt raw and dry like the grating surface of a popcorn ceiling. Blacklight patted his beak a few times before stepping to Mads’ neck, leaning back and nestling themself there, in the crook between his neck and shoulder. 

The Mad Ducktor tried to say something, to ask what was going on, but his throat was so dry and sore that all that came out was some kind of strange wheeze. Mads was repulsed at how helpless it sounded, but he couldn’t do much about that right now. He couldn’t do much about anything right now. 

But the voice was talking again. “How much do you remember?”

Mads tried to speak again, and though there was a little more of a squeak to his wheeze, it wasn’t much better. He weakly shook his head, as much as he could while it was pressed against a hard surface. 

“You’ll need water. D-”

But the voice cut off as Blacklight suddenly leapt up, running away and leaping down whatever Mads was lying on. It seemed like some kind of table. 

“I guess they’re getting it.” The voice said. “How much do you remember?” It asked again. 

Mads shook his head again, closing his eyes. Everything was so fuzzy… the last thing he remembered was being with Gyro… They’d been working… 

But the more he thought the more his head hurt, and he just shook it again, hoping the voice would figure it out. 

It sighed. “Well, if that means you can’t remember, you’re currently in the dining room at McDuck Manor, I found you half-dead on the front porch. There’s a wound running from behind your left elbow up your arm across your back to your right shoulder blade, and I’m trying to close it, but that’s proving difficult since you insist on making unnecessary movements.”

It took all of Mads’ brainpower to even follow what the voice was saying, let alone pick it apart. In the end he was able to do so, hazily repeating the words in his mind before they made sense.

But it was still talking. “Della, Scrooge and I are all here, and we would like to know what you’re doing here and how this happened.”

“An’ we’re not givin’ ye a choice on whether or not ya tell us.” Came a second, more familiar voice. 

Again, everything had to snap into place. Asking Gyro about their relationship. His original finally having an answer. Getting pinned against the shelves, then Gyro trying to kill him. Running through the aisles, panic filling his mind until Gyro caught up with him… Then the pain. The insufferable pain. Then dragging himself to the mansion, nearly falling out of the sky several times before miraculously making it there, hoping that Beakley would be able to help him.

That’s when Blacklight returned, managing to haul a water bottle up onto the table, dragging it over to Mads before tipping it on its side, so the built-in non-spill straw was against Mads’ beak.

Forcing down the last of his pride, Mads drank needily from it, hardly noticing when the freezing water stung his mouth. It was so cold he could feel it go down, spreading through him. It was invigorating and soothing, and he drank as much as he could.

Finally, he took one last gulp and let the straw fall from his mouth, Blacklight pulled the water bottle back.

“Can you speak now?” Beaklely asked. 

Mads swallowed again, nodding. “I-I think so.” His voice was quiet and raspy, but at least it worked. 

A hand slammed down on the table, about a foot away from his face, and Mads jumped. “Great!” Della said. “Now you can tell us what the duck you’re doing here. You’ve got quite a lot of nerve coming back here, and we all know this is some kind of trick, so don’t try and lie.”

“Della!” Beakley scolded. “Give him a moment, he’s still just waking up.”

“He just brainwashed my best friend and then had the nerve to come crawling back here, excuse me if I’m a little angry.” Della grumbled.

“This isn’t a trick,” Mads told her as Blacklight nestled back against his neck once more. “I swear.”

“Oh, because we all know just how trustworthy you are.” Della shot back. “How do we know this isn’t just you trying to get inside the mansion to kill Scrooge?” 

In different circumstances Mads would’ve had a sharp reply, no doubt pointing out that he’d had his entire left arm sliced open. But right now his mind was foggy and his throat was still sore, and he could only get out a couple words. “It’s not.” 

“So what in the blazes happened?” Scrooge demanded, stepping closer.

Mads screwed his eyes shut, trying to force through the fog in his head. Doing so only made his headache worse. “Gyro attacked me,” he managed to get out after a moment. “He said…” 

“You’re a little expendable, wouldn’t you say so?” 

“Everything you do will only be a shadow of my actions. Because that’s all you are! A mere copy and paste of me, with a head full of insane ideas.”

“You’re a waste of space!”

“Really, you couldn’t even see that all along you were just trying to be me?”

Luckily enough, Mads didn’t need to finish his sentence. The uproar from the people around him had drowned out his last two words. Mads hardly caught a word of it, they were all yelling too loud and his head hurt too much and he truly couldn’t care less what they were saying. 

After a few moments Mrs. Beakley leaned down closer to him, so she was within Mads’ sight. “You’re saying Gyro did this to you?” 

Mads nodded. 

“Why?!” Della and Scrooge demanded. 

The Mad Ducktor’s eyes were still shut, he tried his hardest to gather his thoughts and memories enough to give them an answer. “H-he said I wasn’t good enough.” 

“For what?” Della asked, leaning down to Mads’ eye level.

“To work with him.” Mads answered, still trying to think. It was getting much harder, he felt both numb and in pain, greatly overheated yet chilled to the bone at the same time. “He said our plan didn’t need two people, and that since I was just the copy of him that he should just get rid of me-” Mads broke off with a choked gasp of pain and sorrow. 

Della rolled her eyes, straightening up. “Oh please, we don’t need your pity party! We want you to…”

But suddenly her voice sounded far away, Mads couldn’t hear what she was saying. The world faded out a little bit, he didn’t know how long it was. He faintly registered yelling, then later Blacklight leaping up in front of him, their arms out defensively as they stared the Ducks down. Then Beakley leaning down in front of him, concern on her face. 

Then he felt the straw from the water bottle against his beak again, and he drank some more. The freezing shock of the water helped revive him a little, and he slowly became more aware of his surroundings. 

The first thing he noticed is that it was gratefully much darker, the lights in the dining room had been dimmed. Beakley’s face came into focus not far from his as she stood the water bottle back up, looking at him. “I’ve finished closing and bandaging your wound.” She told him. “Can you sit up?” 

Mads had no idea. Just lifting his head felt like a huge effort, sitting up would be a supernatural act of strength. Even so, with Beakley’s help, he managed to get into a sitting position on the edge of the dining room table, his legs dangling off the side. 

Beakley steadied him and allowed him to get his bearings for a moment, and Mads was just getting used to sitting when Della stormed over. “I still say if he can sit then he can talk-” 

Mrs. Beakley shushed her. “I don’t need him passing out right now.” She told her. “Let’s just get him downstairs before we try to interrogate him, alright?” 

Mads couldn’t follow her words, all he really registered was Della finally being quiet. Beakley then helped him stand, and guided him out of the dining room, Blacklight, Della and Scrooge followed just behind them. 

Down the hall, out into the foyer… Mads tripped over his own feet several times, and leaned more of his weight on Beakley than he was carrying himself. It wasn’t until they were stopped in front of a familiar small door in the foyer that Mads realized where they were going. 

He stopped short. “No.” Unable to support his weight he collapsed, Beakley wasn’t fast enough to catch him as he fell to his knees. “No no no no no- you can’t make me go back down there.” 

“Ye donnae have a choice.” Scrooge growled from behind him. Beakley helped gingerly haul Mads to his feet as Della walked around to the door and opened it, revealing a narrow set of rickety stairs.

“Please,” for the second time that night, Mads found himself begging desperately. “Anywhere else, for the love of muff-” 

“This is the only place we can properly keep an eye on you and contain you.” Beakley said. She practically lifted him off his feet and dragged him down the first few stairs, Mads could hardly do anything to fight back. 

“N-no, you don't understand- I can’t-” Hopeless memories flooded back to him, ones filled with regret and sorrow. He hadn’t been down here since his hopes of fixing his life had officially been crushed. The room down here was filled with too many bitter, sad memories, where his nightmares and claustrophobia had run rampant. 

A claustrophobia that had increased dramatically after being captured by F.O.W.L. 

He wouldn’t survive a minute down here. 

“You can’t what?” Della asked, sounding unimpressed. “We’re not falling for your pity act, Mad Ducktor.”

Mads did everything he could to stop them, which really boiled down to digging the talons of his bare feet into the ground, and going limp and heavy in Beakley’s grasp. But it only ended in his toes aching and the floor slightly scratched, and Beakley could’ve easily lifted ten of him at one time. Everything he did was useless. 

They made it through the small comfy den without any of them even noticing that Mads was struggling, and down the eerily symmetrical hall. It was when Scrooge opened the third door on the left that Mads finally managed to catch Beakley unawares and break through her grasp. 

But he couldn’t stand up on his own, and only ended up staggering back a few steps before collapsing again. 

With an annoyed grumble, Beakley stepped over to him and crouched down. “I swear if you’ve already opened that wound-” 

“Please,” Mads whispered, his eyes screwed shut. “I can’t go back in there.” 

“Why not?” Della asked him, the fear and dread in his body language didn’t appear fake, especially when he was too weak to stand on his own. 

Beakley got him standing again, and Mads tried digging his feet into the floor once more. His scattered foggy mind had no idea how to explain it all to them- and he didn’t much want to- so he tried to sum it up as best as he could. “It’s too sad.”

“What are you talking about? It’s-” 

Beakley cut Della off. “We can leave the door open, if that helps. But you’re going in there either way.” 

Mads knew that was the best he was going to get. He let Beakley half-carry him into the room, over the familiar soft carpet, past the cushioned armless chair. They clearly hadn’t touched this room since the last time Mads had been here, and that made him hate it more. 

Mrs. Beakley helped him lay down on his stomach, head turned to the side so he didn’t hurt his back. Blacklight took up their same spot nestled against Mads’ neck and shoulder. 

“Okay, he’s made it downstairs, now can we interrogate him?” Della asked, sounding exasperated. “This has gone on long enough. He doesn’t deserve our help!” 

Beakley sighed. “I know, but I wasn’t about to just leave him dying on the front porch.” 

“An’ we respect that, Bentina.” Scrooge inclined his head towards her. “But ye have ta admit, he's still quite a danger to us here.” 

"We still have to get more information out of him!” Della protested.

But Mads had had enough. He’d been betrayed, chased for his life through a lab, literally backstabbed, and had made it halfway across Duckburg all in one night. He was exhausted, and longed to shut his eyes and surrender to whatever kind of unconsciousness would take him. 

And as the others’ fight grew he found it easy to do so. Even in the moment he had no idea what was real and what was a dream, but he distantly registered the three of them trying to wake him up, then Blacklight trying to get them to be quiet. The last thing he saw that he was pretty sure was real was the room around him empty, save for Mrs. Beakley standing in the open doorway, her hand on the doorknob.

“Bentina…” Mads managed to croak out. 

She turned back to him, looking surprised. “Hm?” 

“Thank you.”

—

Even with such an exciting night, Beakley still had a job to do. She was up and ready the same time she always was, a sensible 6:45 when the winter sun was still asleep. This gave her time to clean the house in the morning, and try and wash the blood out of her soaked nightgown that she’d discarded in the laundry room the night before. 

At 7:30 she was just getting Scrooge’s nutmeg tea ready in the kitchen, when there came the sound of the fridge door shutting behind her. “Bentina, you’re almost out of milk.” 

She rolled her eyes, without turning around. Gyro would often come dig through their fridge when he ran out of food at home and didn’t want to go to the store. Or at least he had, before a few years ago when Boyd-

Hold on. 

Beakley whipped around, nearly dropping the teapot in her haste. There stood the Mad Ducktor, squinting around the kitchen like he was trying to find something. 

They’d taken his black coat and pink jacket the night before, Beakley needed to get to his wound quickly, and had ended up just cutting his clothes off of him. Now somehow he had a white and gold fluffy robe that reached his knees, where his usual grey pants extended to his bare feet. His little lightbulb robot was perched on his head. 

“I- how?!” Beakley asked him, shocked. She’d seen a lot of strange things in her time, but never this. “Y-you suffered a major injury only seven hours ago, you shouldn’t be able to sit up on your own let alone- how did you get upstairs?” 

He hummed an uncaring “I don’t know” noise, then walked to the pantry. His steps were a little shaky, but still enough to keep him level and upright. 

“Where did you get that robe from?” Beakley asked, still utterly confused. How was this even possible?

He didn’t look at her as Blacklight jumped down from his head and opened the pantry door for him. He looked like he was unable to really move his arms, but that was expected. 

The Mad Ducktor scanned the pantry, still squinting. “I don’t know, some closet somewhere.” 

Beakley knew that robe had been in one of the old closets upstairs, it’d belonged to Duckworth. The old dog rarely wore it, and it’d just gathered dust in the last few decades. Beakley washed it now and then when too much dust collected on it, but they were better off without it.

“H-hold on,” she held out a hand. “You’re telling me you went up two stories to grab a robe, then back down here, all while you should still hardly be able to walk? How did you even know it was there?!” 

“Hey, you’re the one who left me shirtless, what was I supposed to do? But yes, Gyro found it while babysitting the pink one once when she was little, I wanted to see if it was still there. Do you have any muffins?” 

Beakley knew she would just have to accept the situation, and immediately tried to fix it, forcing her shock down. “Listen, you have to go back downstairs-” 

“Maybe later.” He said, still scanning the shelves. “I want food right now.” 

She tried to ignore the interruption. “We aren’t sure how to tell the kids that you’re here. So, they don’t know yet and we’re going to keep it that way. But if they walk in to you going through our pantry-”

“-oooh, so I’m a secret? Clearly not a very well-kept one, if you’re letting me roam the house. About those muffins-” 

“Mad Ducktor!” Beakley cried, cutting him off and trying to get his attention. 

He finally looked at her, still squinting. “...Why are there three of you? I didn’t think Gyro had any clone spray left. Have fun when one of them starts to think for itself.”

She sighed. “There are not three of me, you just shouldn’t be moving this much. I will get you a muffin as long as you go back downstairs and stay there until we can figure out what to do with you.” 

“And some pants? These ones are still covered in blood.”

“Sure. I’ll see if I can get you some pants. Now do we have a deal?” Beakley was now hyper aware of the sounds of the house around her, hoping that the kids weren’t awake yet. She wasn’t quite ready to deal with that fiasco. 

The Mad Ducktor paused, considering. “Two muffins.” He decided. “And a drink.” 

“Fine. Deal?”

“Deal.” 

Beakley rolled her eyes and stepped into the pantry, reaching up to the top shelf where a box of muffins was set behind the chips. Two were missing, leaving four behind. She passed the box to Blacklight, on top of the Mad Ducktor’s head. 

The villain’s eyes widened, looking as surprised as a kid finding out they received an extra surprise for their birthday. “Four?!”  

“It’ll be none if you don’t get downstairs right now.” She threatened. 

But the Mad Ducktor had hesitated, his right arm out to steady himself as much as he could, blinking rapidly. When he spoke his voice was pitched. “Actually, I don’t know if I can get down there-” 

Beakley saw it coming and managed to catch him as he collapsed, he slumped over her arm with a gasp and a groan. “See, this is why you-” 

But he was already out, and her words fell on unhearing ears. With an annoyed sigh she lifted him, and because of the injury on his back she had to hold him against her chest, his head on her shoulder and knees by her waist like a sleeping toddler. 

This wasn’t how she’d wanted to start the day, but she knew she’d have to deal with it. After retrieving a water bottle from the fridge she moved to leave the kitchen. On her way out, she nearly collided into Archimede coming in. 

“Oh, Mrs. B-” The blond bird’s eyes widened as he took a step back. “What is going on?!” 

Beakley quickly shushed him. “I’ll explain everything in a minute.”

“No wait, but- that can’t be-” 

“Yes, it is the Mad Ducktor. I don’t want any of the kids-” 

“How?!” 

Beakley grabbed his hand, wanting to move the conversation- or more specifically, the Mad Ducktor- somewhere more remote. “Come with me.” She then checked to see that the hallway was clear of kids, then headed for the basement as fast as she could.

They made it to the basement room without seeing anyone, and thankfully Archimede waited until Beakley had laid Mads down on his stomach before resuming his exclamations of shock. “What in Selene’s name happened?” He asked. “He’s supposed to be working with Gyro, and now you’re carrying him unconscious through the mansion?” 

Beakley gingerly tried to pull the Mad Ducktor’s robe off while Blacklight jumped onto the nightstand and set the muffins down. “He showed up last night.” She explained. “He said Gyro attacked him.”

“Gyro- oh my god.” Archimede covered his beak as Beakley finally got the robe off, revealing the bandaged wound on the Mad Ducktor’s arm and back. It was terrible, but thankfully it had only cut through his skin. It’d been easier to close, and would heal faster. However, the Mad Ducktor would be left with quite a scar. “Gyro… Gyro did that?” 

“That’s what we think.” Beakley confirmed. “He was hurting too much last night to tell us what happened, but we can speculate.”

“But why would Gyro-”

“We have no idea.” Beakley cut him off. “He’s hardly told us anything, he wasn’t exactly ready for a conversation last night.” 

“Hm… so- wait!” Archimede turned to the robot on the nightstand. “This is Mads’ Lil’ Bulb, right? Maybe it can tell us what happened!”

“Well it could, if we could understand it. It doesn't exactly speak in morse code, it's just different enough that I have no idea what it's saying. But yes, this is Blacklight, they’re the one the Mad Ducktor stole when he last escaped the mansion.” 

“I can understand it!” Archimede exclaimed. “Well, mostly. I can get an idea of what it’s saying. Gyro and Lil' Bulb talk in a variation of morse code that's faster, and Gyro taught it to me once a while ago.”

Blacklight crossed their arms, appearing unimpressed. They blinked something, and Archimede looked offended, holding a hand to his chest as his jaw dropped. “Am not!” 

Blacklight looked surprised, then began flashing quickly. Archimede followed along, trying to piece the words together. “...They said that Gyro started off by asking if Mads was really vital to their plan, before Gyro came to the conclusion himself that Mads wasn’t. So then he tried to… um… get rid of him. Gyro chased Mads around the lab with a knife before he finally caught up to him and stabbed him in the back. Blacklight intervened before Gyro killed him, and they got away.” 

“Why would Gyro do that?” Beakley asked, confused. The little robot shrugged. 

“They said they don’t know either. Neither does Mads. He came here hoping you would help him.” 

“He came to me specifically?” Beakley clarified, even more confused and surprised.

Archimede watched Blacklight’s flashing before replying. “Yes, apparently Mads feels like you’ve always given him a chance, and have treated him better than the rest of them.” Blacklight paused, then flashed something quickly. Archimede snorted. “Blacklight also says not to tell Mads they told you that.” 

The blond bird looked at her. “So now what do we do?”

Beakley stood, spreading the robe on top of the Mad Ducktor as a blanket. It got cold down here in the basement, especially in the winter. “I don’t know. Right now I should finish making Scrooge’s tea. So far we’ve just been planning to interrogate him once he can think clearly enough to answer our questions, but for now we’re just waiting for him to recover. I don’t know if that’s coming sooner than we expected.” She quickly explained why the Mad Ducktor had been up in the kitchen, and Archimede looked just as shocked as she had felt. 

“Well… I guess he’s always been pretty resilient… Still, how on Earth was he able to even open the basement door? With a cut like that, he shouldn’t be able to lift his arms that high.” 

“He asked us to keep this door open, and from what it looks like, Blacklight’s been helping him with everything he can’t do.”

“Who else knows about this?” 

“Scrooge, Della, myself, most likely Donald by now, and you. We don’t want the kids finding out about this until we’re ready, so please don’t say anything to them.” 

Archimede nodded. “I won’t. Do you want me to tell Fenton?” 

“Yes, please.” Beakley glanced at the Mad Ducktor’s unconscious form, his beak slightly open and his arms pressed against his sides. “Also, will you ask him to bring some of Gyro’s pants when he comes?”

“Oh, for Mads? Yes.” They left the room together, Archimede giving Blacklight a farewell wave that they didn’t return. 

Beakley’s hand rested on the door handle, and for a moment she considered closing and locking it. It’d be much easier to keep the Mad Ducktor contained like this, this morning had already been quite a close call. 

But she couldn’t do it. She’d been able to feel the pure panic in the villain’s tense muscles as she’d practically carried him downstairs last night, even in his half-dead state the room filled him with dread. Besides, he was already in enough pain, he didn’t need anything else adding to it. 

In the den they ran into Della and Donald, Della must’ve told her brother what was going on. 

“Where is he?” Della asked, clearly excited. “Can we interrogate him now?”

Donald punched his palm. “I want some questions answered.” 

“He’s blacked out again.” Beakley deadpanned. 

“What?!” Della exclaimed. “Again? What was it this time? Surely it’s been long enough that he’s not just passing out from sitting up.” 

“No, somehow he made it all the way up to the second floor, then back down to the kitchen by himself.” 

“You’re kidding.” Donald said, crossing his arms. 

Beakley shook her head. “I’m not. He got Duckworth’s old robe and then came to search the pantry for muffins before passing out. I don’t know why he wants to exert himself like this, it obviously isn’t doing him any good.” 

“Now how much longer do we have to wait?” Della asked, sounding exasperated. “I’m sick of this! First we have to just wait for them to attack, now we have to wait for him to recover? Why can’t we just do something?”

“We have been doing something!” Archimede tried to sound encouraging. “We’ve been working on the-” 

“But that isn’t action. So far, that hasn’t given us answers and results. Interrogating him will.” 

Beakley couldn’t help but agree. She knew making the reversed ego machine was their biggest goal, and as a spy she’d been taught patience was key from day one, but Della was right. So far they hadn’t seen many results. “I know it’s hard,” she said to Della. “We will likely get answers before the day is out. At least this gives us a chance to tell Fenton about it as well.”

“So?” Della asked, stepping back. “He’s just another person who will agree with whatever that slimeball has to say! No one here is willing to give him the punishment he deserves! He’s getting off too easily, and no one is doing anything about it!” 

Beakley held a hand out. “Della, I assure you-” 

“That what? You’re the one caring for him, obviously you don’t care much about what he's done! He’s done nothing to deserve your help, so why offer it?” 

“He doesn’t deserve death either, and that’s the alternative.” Beakley pointed out, her voice growing more stern. 

“Is not! He knows how to take care of himself, he survived the Moonvasion after all. He doesn’t need our help, so we should put him back in his cell where he belongs.” 

“So he can just feel even more abandoned and bitter and escape again?” Archimede asked, frowning. “Ignoring him isn’t going to help anything.” 

“I’m with Della,” Donald stood next to his sister. “Everyone here is protecting the Mad Ducktor too much, and for what?” 

Beakley opened her mouth, but Archimede got there first, folding his arms and letting out a breath. “I don’t want to argue about this,” he said quietly, looking up at Della and Donald. “Not while we have more important things to do. You see it your way, I see it mine, and maybe we can reach a compromise?” 

“Like what?” Della folded her arms, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, what do you want to do with him?” 

“Interrogate him and make him pay.” 

“Isn’t this payment enough? He’s lost the support of all of us, along with having a long road to recovery from his injury. So we interrogate him, and then what do you want to do?” 

“Leave him alone. He’s our prisoner here, so why can’t we just isolate him?” Della asked. “We can have someone guard him, but aside from that he’s stuck down here by himself.” 

“Fine,” Archimede nodded. “As long as I’m the guard.”

Chapter Text

Fenton was pulled from a deep sleep by the terribly loud ringing of his phone. It was right under his head, only separated from his ear by the pillow. He blinked, trying to get his bearings as he squinted at his phone. 

It was Archimede, and the current time was just past eight. 

Oh no. Fenton must’ve slept in.

 Still half-asleep, he quickly answered it. “Archimede! Sorry I’m late, are you at the lab already?” 

“No, actually, I’m still at the mansion.” Archimede sounded hesitant. “There’s been a… development.” 

“What is it?” Fenton asked, sitting up more and rubbing his eyes. “Did something go wrong?”
“Not exactly, and we still don’t know the whole story. Just come to the mansion as soon as you can, I’ll see you in a minute.” Before Fenton could answer, Archimede had already hung up. 

What? Fenton rubbed his eyes again, sitting up. He’d never heard of Archimede just hanging up suddenly, usually the blond chicken would at least say a nice goodbye. Something urgent must’ve happened. 

The duck dragged himself out of bed, brushing his too-long hair and grabbing one of Gyro’s Gizmoduck hoodies. It was too big, but Fenton didn’t have time to do laundry. Besides, it was comfortable. 

He was just leaving his room to go find Boyd when his phone buzzed, it was a text from Archimede. 

Oh, and bring some of Gyro’s sweatpants. 

What was going on?

Fenton and Boyd pulled up in front of the mansion twenty minutes later, parking outside the front door. Boyd rang the doorbell, and Archimede answered almost immediately and let them inside. “You’re here!” He exclaimed. 

“What’s going-”

But Archimede didn’t let him finish, he looked down at Boyd. “Hey, Boyd! Did you guys have breakfast yet? I think Beakley’s making pancakes, if you want to wake the kids up and go see if they’re ready?”

“Yes!” Boyd exclaimed, dashing off through the mansion. 

Archimede waited until Boyd had turned the corner down the hallway before grabbing Fenton’s hand. “Come on.” 

“What is going on?” Fenton asked, now very bewildered. Archimede led him towards the small door in the corner of the foyer that led to the small basement. Once they were on the steps Archimede shut the door behind them. 

“It’s quite a story, and we don’t know how much we want to tell the kids.” Archimede told him quietly, leading him down the stairs. 

“What is it? Why are we going down here?” Fenton asked, following Archimede through the den. They stopped in the hall.

Archimede sighed. “Beakley found Mads on the mansion’s front steps last night. He’s been… injured.” 

“What?!” Fenton exclaimed. “By what? Do we know what happened? Why did he come here? Where’s Gyro?” 

The duck listened in shock as Archimede explained everything he knew, starting with Mads showing up and ending with him agreeing to be the one to guard Mads down here. Della had pushed him on it, and in the end they’d compromised on Archimede and Beakley switching out who got Mads for a day. 

Only one of the doors in the hall was open, the third one on the left. Fenton peered into the dark room, and could just make out a misshapen lump on the bed. A small purple light glowed from the nightstand, loyally guarding the bed. “So that’s him? He thought Beakley would help him?” 

Archimede nodded. “Yes. Della’s planning to interrogate him as soon as he’s able to answer questions.” 

“When will that be?” Fenton asked. He was eager to find out why the Mad Ducktor had done all of this. Betraying the trust of everyone around him, making them all fear him again, what had it all been for? Did he know he’d most likely never get that love and trust back?

“Your guess is as good as ours.” Archimede said with a shrug. “For now I guess we can just keep doing what we were doing, and hope that Mads can give us some answers.”

—

Mads felt the pain before he even realized he was conscious. He let out a whine, shifting slightly and pressing his face further against the pillow. Whatever kind of medicine Beakley had given him must’ve worn off, and now his arm and back hurt.

Blacklight was immediately at his side. “What is wrong? Do you want me to get the large purple one?” 

Usually that would’ve made Mads snort- Blacklight liked to copy their father and pretend that they didn’t remember names- but everything hurt too much for anything to be funny. Even in the frigid basement, he felt overheated. “No, I can go get her in a minute.” 

“But you are not allowed to leave the basement.” Blacklight pointed out. Before Mads could say anything else the little robot had left. 

Mads sighed. He really hoped Blacklight didn’t make a scene, he didn’t need the whole horde of ducks coming for him, especially not right now. If he could just go back to sleep, that would be great. 

Thankfully Blacklight returned only a minute or two later, Beakley right behind them. She sat down on the edge of the bed. “So, you’re awake.” 

“I don’t want to be.” Mads admitted. “It hurts.” 

He could almost sense her frown. “That shouldn’t have entirely worn off by now, are you sure?”

“Oh, I don’t know, it just feels like it’s on fire and pulsing along with my heartbeat. But I’m sure it’s just my imagination, right? After all, it is only a life-threatening wound.” 

Beakley sighed. “You could’ve just said yes. I’m going to take the bandages off and see if it’s been infected anywhere.” Mads felt her removing whatever cloth had been spread on top of him. 

“You didn’t try to make sure it wouldn’t?” Mads asked through his teeth as he felt Beakley touching the area. 

“I did, but these things can still happen. I-” she paused, holding a hand to his forehead. “Oh my god, you’re burning up. Do you feel hot?” 

“Yes.” Mads admitted, closing his eyes. “But it’s still freezing down here.” 

—

Fenton and Archimede looked up expectantly as Beakley walked into the den, looking deep in thought. 

“How is he?” Archimede asked. “Can we talk to him now?” 

“Has he said anything about why he did it?” Fenton added.

She shook her head. “No. There’s a part near his elbow that’s infected, and he already has a fever. I need to clean it out and then he should get some rest, he’s got a long few days ahead of him.”

—

For Mads, the next couple days passed in a hazy, pain-filled feverish blur. 

It felt a lot like dozing, except he was always hot, cold, and uncomfortable. Things around him changed constantly, and he could never remember what was going on. Sometimes the light in the room was on, sometimes it was off. Sometimes there were people in the room, sometimes there weren’t. Sometimes they were talking, and often they were silent. 

The only constant was Blacklight, they stayed right next to his head throughout all of it. Sometimes they just sat there, sometimes they reassuringly tapped his beak when they noticed he was awake. 

Mads neck soon started to ache from his head always being turned to the side, so when he could he propped himself up as much as possible. It didn’t help much, and the ache only added to his pain. 

He had no idea how much time had passed, other than that every now and then someone would come in and give him water, and try to get him to eat something. Mads never ate, but he was grateful for the hydration. 

Mads felt restless, but at the same time too tired to go anywhere. He had dreams of being chased and of knives flashing in strange lighting, and the only reason he could separate that from reality was because he knew he wasn’t strong enough to stand, let alone run. 

One of the moments that surfaced in his mind later was when he felt a hand on the side of his head, resting there reassuringly before running back through his hair. When Mads opened his eyes he could make out a shape sitting on the edge of his bed, smiling comfortingly at him. It sent a soothing wave through Mads, and it was the best he felt during the entire ordeal. For a moment, while his mind was still foggy, the pain, heat and shivering chill faded away. Mads met its green eyes for a moment, before the scene faded again. 

Had that been Gyro? What was it supposed to mean? How had he gotten inside the mansion, and fought back the ego machine’s effects on his mind?

Finally, one day while the room was empty and dark, his mind felt clearer than it had in a long time. He still felt freezing cold, but this time it wasn’t accompanied by the strange burning heat as well. Figuring it must’ve just been due to the basement’s temperature, Mads felt relief that this might all be over soon.

He meant to sit up and try to find someone who could tell him what was going on and how much time had passed; however he must’ve fallen asleep while bracing himself to get up because the next time he opened his eyes his neck hurt more, and while the room was dark, there was a light coming from the hallway. His head felt clearer than it’d been since arriving at the mansion, and his back hurt less. 

This time he did manage to sit up, popping his neck and sighing. Blacklight was there in an instant, coming to stand on his knee. “You are up! How do you feel?”

Mads smiled slightly at them. “I feel better than I have since we got here. Which still isn’t great, but… how long has it been?”

“Two days.” Blacklight told him. “Beakley has been taking care of you.”

“Hm. I’m surprised she’s put up with me for that long. Where’s my robe?” 

Blacklight helped him put it on, because of Mads’ injury he couldn’t move his arms much, it pulled on the skin on his shoulders and back and made it even more painful. Mads then shakily stood, the little robot jumping up to sit on his head. 

Mads heard voices coming from the den, and he stumbled his way down the hall. The den was lit by a lamp on one of the end tables, and Archimede, Fenton and Della were sitting on the couch. 

Mads stayed in the hall, not exactly eavesdropping, but not telling them he was there either. 

“-anyway, while I was running from them I tripped on something in the woods.” Fenton was telling a story.

“Why are you telling us this? There’s lots of things to trip on in the woods.” Della pointed out, sounding bored. 

“No, but this was weird! It was some kind of black plastic fin sticking out of the ground, I have no idea what it was. And next to it was an antenna sticking out from the leaves too.” 

“And where was this?” Archimede asked. 

“In the woods outside the wall around the mansion. I thought I’d ask about it to see if you knew what it was.” 

Mads leaned up against the wall, the cool wallpaper chilling the side of his face. Fenton couldn’t have found…

Della sat up more, her newfound interest becoming obvious. “I don’t know what that is, but you said it had an antenna?” When Fenton nodded, she continued. “Maybe it’s something one of Scrooge’s enemies is using to spy on him, we should-” 

“-leave it alone.” Mads stepped from the hallway, dread growing in his stomach. He didn’t want them to find any trace of what he’d been through after the Moonvasion, and from what it sounded like, Fenton had found the one thing that would give Mads away. “It’s none of your concern.”

Their heads all simultaneously snapped up to look at him, just noticing he was there. 

“Mads!” 

Before Mads knew what was happening Archimede had leapt up, running over to him and embracing him in a tight hug. He kept his arms low, wrapping them around Mads’ waist so he didn’t touch the healing injury on Mads’ back. 

Mads blinked, startled. “You’re… you’re not mad?” 

Archimede hugged him tighter. “Oh, I am absolutely livid and I cannot believe you would do something like this, but I’m also happy you’re okay, and that you made it out of there.” 

“W-what?” Mads stammered, even more shocked. “But I thought-” 

He was cut off by Archimede taking a step back to examine him, putting one hand on Mads’ cheek and the other on his forehead. “How’s your fever? You feel better. And you’re up, I’m surprised! Are you hungry? You should probably still stay in bed.”

Now that Archimede mentioned it, Mads was just starting to realize the nauseating hunger biting at his stomach. But that was beside the point. “N-no, you’re supposed to hate me now, I thought you-” 

“Don’t worry, we do.” Della agreed. She and Fenton were standing behind Archimede, Fenton right next to the arm of the couch. “What were you saying about this thing Fenton fou-” 

“Speak for yourself,” Archimede said to her. He looked back at Mads. “What do you want to eat?” 

“Hold on, what?” Della and Mads said at the same time. Della ignored the Mad Ducktor. “How can you not hate him at this point, after everything he’s done to Gyro? Come on Fenton, don’t you-” 

Fenton held his hands up. “Leave me out of this, please.” 

Della’s jaw dropped. “What? So none of you are actually upset about this? Have you forgotten what he’s done to Gyro?”

“I don’t know how to feel,” Fenton said quietly.

Archimede turned Mads around, pushing him back along the hallway. “You should go back to bed, you shouldn’t be exerting yourself this much. I can go get some food-”

“Archie, what is this?” Mads asked, stopping and turning around. “You’re- you’re supposed to hate me, I thought after what I did no one would-” 

“I thought so too.” Della said, following them with her arms crossed. Fenton was just behind her. “What is this all about, Archimede?”

“I can still make sure he’s okay while still being angry.” Archimede pointed out, still ushering Mads along the hallway. “And right now you should be-”
“Fine, if I go sit down then will you tell me what’s up?” Mads asked, marching down the hall. He took a breath as he walked back into the room. He really didn’t like being back here. But at least Blacklight was on his side this time.

“Nothing’s up-”

“Yes, there is.” Della said, leaning against the doorframe as Mads sat down on the edge of the bed. “Archimede, this is insane! You know what he’s done, you shouldn't care this much!” 

“Who says I’m not just doing the bare minimum and just trying to keep him alive?” Archimede asked, looking back at her.

“Because you just hugged me?” Mads pointed out, confused. “I’m with Dels on this one.” 

Della scowled at him, her jaw jutting forward menacingly. “You do not get to call me that.” 

Mads knew he should just accept it and move on, but he couldn’t. They were all supposed to hate him now, so he was ready to infuriate them even more. “Oh, and what would you prefer? Dumbella?” 

Della immediately stormed across the room, her hand in a fist. “So you want to go there? Because I am ready to-”

Archimede stepped in between them. “Let’s not start anything right now-” 

“Come on, I can take him! It’s about time he got what he deserved for all of this-” 

“Hm, and I remember from last time that you were no match for me.” Mads pointed out with a smirk. “Is beating me while I’m injured something you’d sink to, Dumbella? You could never win in a fair-”

With that Della shoved past Archimede and dove at Mads, and was only stopped by Fenton quickly grabbing her arm as she swung it back to strike. “Let me go!” She growled, still fighting to get to Mads. 

Mads just smiled at her, eyebrows raised, sitting there completely unaffected.

“Della, wait!” Fenton said, still trying to hold her back. “If you hurt him any more, then we probably won’t be able to interrogate him!” 

Della stopped struggling and stood there, glaring at Mads. “Fine. So we should start right now, shouldn’t we?” 

Archimede held up a hand. “We should probably get Beakley and Scrooge for this-” 

“No need, we can do it right now.” She took the final step to Mads and grabbed the front of his robe, pulling him up and closer. Mads squawked, and found his beak inches from her. Her bright blue eyes bore into his, filled with more anger than Mads had ever seen. “So. Start talking.” 

Mads just smirked and stuck his tongue out at her. 

Della threw him back down, raising her first. “Alright, that’s it-”

Mads just barely stopped himself from falling all the way back as Fenton and Archimede dragged Della across the room. “How about you and Fenton go get Scrooge and Beakley?” Archimede suggested, shoving to the two towards the door. 

Fenton led Della away, and Mads slumped over with a sigh. “Everything hurts,” he groaned, his head falling forward. Being thrown around by Della hadn’t helped his injury at all. The pain had turned into a dull stabbing, as if the skin was constantly being sliced through, yet it was muffled somehow.

Archimede walked back over to him. “Did she reopen your wound? We should probably check on it, are you okay with taking your robe off?”

Mads smiled faintly. “Sure.” 

Archimede helped him get it off before sitting behind him, gingerly checking on the bandages. His touch was feather-light, but Mads still winced every time Archimede touched anywhere close to the injury. 

“What’s up with you?” Mads asked him. “You… you aren’t mad at me?” 

“I am,” Archimede replied simply. “But I’ve just experienced firsthand what Gyro is like now. I know that’s your fault, but… but he’s manipulative and ruthless, and I’m just glad you made it out of there.” 

“But why? Why are you glad for me?” Mads asked, still confused. He hadn’t expected anyone to be on his side at this point. “Why do you care anymore?”

“Because I can’t just stop, can I?” Archimede said. “I’ve been trying to fight for you and be on your side and help you for months now, and I guess I’m having a hard time letting go of that.”

Mads didn’t have a response to that, and silence reclaimed the room. Archimede eventually climbed around Mads and off the bed, sighing. “It looks fine. And the infected part looks much better. But we should definitely get you some food and pain meds.”

“Thanks,” Mads said with a quiet smile. He didn’t like how disappointed Archimede sounded. He could deal with anger, hell, he probably responded best to that. Anger, hatred, disgust, all of it. But this sad, quiet disappointment made him feel even worse.

Archimede didn’t look at him, just stared at the wall, lost in thought. “Why’d you do it?” He asked after a moment. “Why?” 

Mads swallowed, and he looked down at his hand in his lap. He realized it was trembling slightly. Whether that was from his physical weakness or his emotions, he had no idea.

Archimede continued, and that’s when Mads noticed that the blond bird’s hands were tightly clenched in the fabric at the end of his shirt. “What did we do wrong? I thought that you were past getting Gyro on your side… What did we do to ruin that?”

“What?” Mads asked, confused. Did Archimede blame himself for this?

Archimede looked at him, eyes wide and damp. “I thought we had found a way to show you that you didn’t need Gyro to love you like that for you to be happy. Or Scrooge dead. What did I- we do wrong that made you see otherwise? Unless you were never actually happy in which case I’m sorry for not seeing that-” 

“Archie, no!” Mads stood. “I was happy with all of you. More than I’ve ever been. And I was happy for Gyro and Fenton, and their relationship.”

“So then why-”

But that’s when Della, Fenton, Donald, Beakley and Scrooge arrived, and Mads felt Blacklight’s grip on his hair tighten. The little robot was clearly on edge by being surrounded by so many of their enemies, and Mads knew they would stop at nothing to make sure that Mads was safe. Mads felt comforted by it, knowing there was someone here who was on his side no matter what. 

“You’re awake,” Beakley acknowledged, nodding at Mads. “I assume you need medicine and food?” 

Archimede answered for Mads, for some reason. His response was strangely cold. “Yes, he does. His wound has healed well too, I checked on it before you got here.” 

Beakley stepped back out of the room. “I’ll go get those, you can start without me.” 

They made Mads sit against the wall next to the closet, while the rest of them sat opposite him on the bed, facing him. Scrooge suggested that Blacklight be deactivated so they wouldn’t try to attack any of them, but the little robot flashed red at this, buzzing angrily. None of them wanted to be the one to try and turn the robot off, so they were left alone, still sitting on Mads’ head. 

“So. First order of business.” Della started, clearly she and Scrooge were going to do much of the talking. They sat on the very edge of the bed, straight-backed, ready for action. Fenton sat farther back, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking almost bored. Archimede was in the middle of the bed, his legs crossed beneath him, and Donald was next to him. “Why?”

“Why what?” Mads shot back immediately. He knew what they were asking about, but he didn’t want to give them the answer easily. 

“Why did you reconstruct the ego machine, let alone use it on Gyro?” Della asked, already looking annoyed. 

“Because I needed help with my plan, obviously. I-” 

“But why would you completely betray him?” Archimede asked. He looked like he’d mastered his emotions since his talk with Mads only a few moments ago, but his tone and body language still made him look small and concerned. Donald looked at him with a worried expression, putting a hand on his knee.

Mads sighed, glancing to the left, to the unoccupied corner of the room. He didn’t want to talk about this part, especially not to all of them. But he knew they would continue to pester him until they got an answer. 

“Staying with Gyro for a few weeks last summer when I recovered from our F.O.W.L. encounter, going to Gyro’s wedding and our last encounter with F.O.W.L. showed me what it was like to belong to a group of people.” Mads started, talking quietly. Unable to meet their collective gazes, he stared down at his hand again. “Gyro, Fenton and Archimede made me feel more welcome than I have in a long time.”

“So then why did you give that all up? And we don’t need your sob story.” Della grumbled. 

Mads glowered at her from underneath a flop of hair, not raising his head. “I was getting to that.” He growled. He already felt like he’d admitted quite a lot, and felt incredibly exposed sitting here laying out his feelings to them. “But I realized that I will never get to feel like that. None of you will wholly accept me, because to you every moment is just temporary, until I can be locked away again. So I did what I could to feel like I could belong somewhere.” 

Della shook her head. “That’s it? That’s it?! You ruined everything just so you could be around Gyro?”

“Yes. And it worked, for a while.” Mads said, looking back up at her. “The last few days were great, before Gyro decided I wasn’t enough.” 

Fenton sat up a little. “Yeah, well the last few days for us have been terrible. How could you bring that on all of us? That was a purely selfish act-” 

“I never said it wasn’t.” Mads interrupted. 

“So you knew?” Archimede asked. “You knew that it would wreck our lives, and you just didn’t care?”

Mads didn’t answer, just stared back down at his hand. To them, his silence said everything. He hadn’t cared about how it would affect them, and now he was only sorry for it because it hadn’t worked. 

But it wasn’t true. Mads absolutely cared about what it would do to them, and he’d spent hours convincing himself to finally just hit Gyro with the ego machine. He’d told himself that everything would get better for him after that. After all, he nearly had given up on killing Scrooge, and he knew Gyro would never really want what Mads wanted. This had been one last effort to get both things, and it had worked. 

Until it hadn’t, and here Mads was left in the house of his enemies, in a room he hated, wanting to tell them nothing, and at the same time, everything.

But he refused to say all of that in front of Scrooge and Della.

That’s when Beakley returned, wordlessly walking in and giving Mads two sandwiches wrapped loosely in a paper towel, a glass of water, and some pills. Mads set the items down on the ground next to him, and took the pills as Beakley walked over to the bed. 

“So.” She asked, standing against the wall next to Fenton. “What did I miss?” 

“That the Mad Ducktor has no regard for how his actions affect all of us.” Della grumbled.

She was right, but not about Fenton and Archimede. Mads couldn’t care less about what happened to Scrooge, Della, Donald, or Beakley. Still, he laughed. “Oh, and you’re just realizing this?” 

Archimede covered his beak. “Mads…” 

Mads almost winced from the reaction, wishing the others weren’t there so he could tell Archimede and Fenton that it wasn’t true for them. But again, he didn’t want to do it around the Duck family. 

Beakley folded her arms, raising an eyebrow at the Mad Ducktor. “Well, I think he does, and that he’s lying.” 

“What?” Mads, Della and Archimede asked. 

The large duck shrugged. “Well, it’s obvious. He only attacked Gyro once Archimede was out of town, hoping Archimede wouldn’t be affected by this. He was trying to keep Archimede safe from Gyro. And from what it sounds like, he never wanted to hurt Fenton when he and Gyro tried to kidnap him. Maybe you did want to kidnap him to keep him from telling us what happened, but you wanted Fenton out of the way and safe from whatever your plan was. I think the first one was just a cover you told Gyro.”

Scrooge looked back at Mads. “Is this true?” 

Yes. It was. 

Mads rolled his eyes, faking a snort as if what Beakley had proposed was utterly absurd. “She’s delusional.” 

Beakley frowned. “I would suggest not calling your caretaker names, especially when she’s the one giving you food.” 

Mads paused, eyeing the sandwiches with newfound mistrust. He hadn’t thought of that.

“Wait, so that’s really it?” Archimede asked. “You put us all through this- including Gyro- just to get something you wanted years ago?”

“Who said I still didn’t want it? I’m still working towards it, aren’t I?” Mads asked, an eyebrow raised. “This was my last desperate effort.” 

“Yeah, well, you took it too far.” Fenton sank further against the wall, his chin resting on his chest. 

“I see that now.” Mads admitted quietly. “I saw that before too, I guess I was just too excited to finally get what I wanted to let it stop me.” 

“But it should have.” Della grumbled. 

Mads sighed. “I know.” 

“So then why-” 

“Because when do I get what I want?” Mads snapped, his voice rising for the first time. They looked startled by his sudden outburst, and Mads continued. “Huh? When? Gyro falls in love and gets married, I’m not allowed to feel bitter about that. I’m expected to just be entirely okay with it, and I’m a terrible person if I’m not. And oh, the Mad Ducktor is staying here for a few weeks to get better and is finally feeling accepted? Well don’t worry, it’s just temporary and only because he needs to recover, we’re getting him out of the way once he’s probably fine enough to be on his own. And we’re going to remind him of that every other day, and just lock him up again without asking if he's stable enough now to be completely isolated! And he’s upset because he thinks Gyro is going to leave him behind again in favor of someone else after he already has abandonment problems? The audacity! But wait for it. Later when Gyro is off with his new partner traveling halfway across the world the Mad Ducktor is still just expected to sit there and be happy for him, and have absolutely zero complicated feelings about it. Because if he does, then he’s a heartless obsessed monster.” Mads glared, slightly out of breath. “So then when is it? When do I get to feel happy and accepted?” 

“When you stop blowing random things out of proportion!” Archimede shot back, surprising them all. “If you would actually try to see what we’ve all done for you, and try to do something back, then maybe it would be easier for you to fit in and be grateful!” 

Mads snorted. “Grateful? For what?” 

“For… Everything!” Archimede practically shouted. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we try hard to really figure out what’s going on in your head, so we can figure out how not to hurt your feelings or how to include you. Well I’m so tired of trying to read between the lines with you! I know it’s all part of your persona you’ve got going on, but it’s exhausting to try and figure out what you really mean half the time!” 

Mads’ hand clenched into a fist, partly retreating into the fluffy sleeve of his robe. Archimede’s words had hit somewhere deep inside his heart. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“I’m just letting you know that we do a lot for you, and you hardly even seem to care! You are not the victim here!” 

Mads raised his left arm as high as he could without hurting it, which wasn’t very far. Even just the small action sent another wave of pain through his arm. “I literally am!” 

“Oh, and whose fault is that?” Archimede snapped. “If you hadn’t betrayed Gyro, and the rest of us, then absolutely none of this would’ve happened in the first place!”

“You don’t think I know that?!” Mads asked. “You don’t think I feel bad? That I felt bad doing it and that I nearly didn’t?”

“You sure aren’t showing it!” Archimede pointed out angrily. “And if it was so hard for you then why did you do it? Why couldn’t it have stayed a messed-up idea in your messed-up head?” 

Mads knew Archimede was right about him, but hearing those words from his cousin felt like a blow to the gut. Was that how Archimede saw him? “Because I was desperate, Archie! I’ve already said this! Do try to keep up.”

“Desperate for something you already had?”

“No, I didn’t! None of you can even see this! I always have a pause button. I always have a time-out. Somewhere where I can get put when no one wants to deal with me anymore. So even when I get to spend time with all of you, how do I know that you’re not just trying to keep me entertained until you can put me away again? My time with you always has a countdown, one that’s never up to me. So excuse me if I wanted a way to get rid of that, so I could feel like my presence mattered.” 

“You’re not excused! Not when you do it like this! You could’ve said something about it!”

“Yeah, and what about all of the times Gyro and I came to visit you?” Fenton asked, sitting up a little once more. It was then that Mads realized that the duck didn’t look bored, he looked extremely tired. Clearly the last few days had worn him thin. 

Mads scowled, showing his teeth this time in annoyance. “Right, because that wasn’t a cover to keep me happy and tame so I wouldn’t do something like this.” 

Fenton waved his arm, Mads could practically feel the frustration radiating from him. “Right, it wasn’t! We liked spending time with you, so we made it a point to come and check on you!

“Even then, I could never choose when I got to see any of you! It was all on your own terms, I had no control over it!” Mads snapped. He took a breath, realizing he didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. The words had stopped coming, and his head was starting to hurt. When he spoke again, his voice was much quieter. “Anyway, that’s why I did it. I was desperate and tired of feeling like I never got a say in the time I spent with anyone.” 

Archimede still looked like he thought that wasn’t enough of a reason. “So you-” 

“Yes, I did!” Mads exclaimed with an obviously unfelt cheerfulness. “Now all of you get out of here, my head hurts.” He was done here. 

Della shook her head. “Nuh-uh. You’re not finished here.” 

“Oh, and would you like me to pass out again?” Mads asked, glaring up at her as he finally worked up the nerve to pick up one of the sandwiches. “Because keep yelling at me and I probably will.” 

Beakley sighed. “He’s right, we shouldn’t overdo it. We should go figure out what we want to tell the kids about this, we’ve kept this secret long enough.” 

Della glared at Mads as she stood. “This isn’t over.” 

Mads didn’t even acknowledge her, he made sure to appear as if he were wholly invested in his sandwich. 

Everyone collected themselves from the bed and left, Archimede trailing behind. Donald paused in the hallway. “Are you coming?” He asked Archimede. 

The blond bird nodded. “Just… give me a minute.” 

“Suit yourself.” Donald said, walking away. 

As soon as Mads was sure they wouldn’t be overheard he stood abruptly, swaying slightly for a moment before walking to Archimede. The blond chicken was standing in the doorway, gazing absently out into the hall. 

“Hey, um…” Mads started, and Archimede glanced at him. “You know I didn’t mean everything I said about you and Fenton, right?” 

Archimede sighed. “See Mads, this is what I’m talking about. You can never just-” 

“I know.” Mads cut him off, not meeting his gaze. “I know that. And… I appreciate that you’ve been able to put up with that for so long. I’m sorry. I just… I felt like I couldn’t say it in front of the Ducks.” 

“Why?” Archimede asked. 

“Because it’s a level of vulnerability I don’t want around them.” Mads admitted. “It doesn’t feel safe, and I’m already scrambling to pick up the pieces of my um… mask, I guess, and so it felt like that was one way I could keep it.” He rolled his eyes. “And then of course Beakley had to ruin it.” 

“You would rather lead me to believe that you don’t care about me than admit such a small thing in front of them?” Archimede asked, his wide eyes searching Mads’.

“I-it’s not small! And no, that’s why I’m coming to you now-” 

“But what if we didn’t have a chance to talk about it?” Archimede turned to face him more. “What if Beakley didn’t call you out? Then what was I supposed to think?” 

He had a point, and Mads swallowed. “I don’t know. And I’m sorry.”

Archimede didn’t reply, and they stood there for a moment, thinking. Finally Archimede stepped closer to Mads, giving him a quick hug that was surprisingly reassuring. “Well, get some rest then, we can talk about this later.” 

With that he turned and left, and Mads walked back to the bed with a sigh. 

He’d really screwed things up. He’d ruined his relationships with Archimede and Fenton, and completely betrayed Gyro. It had all worked for a little bit, before it’d all fallen apart. 

And Mads should’ve seen the cracks earlier on. Even as far back as when Gyro had tried to kill Archimede, Mads should’ve shut it down and given up then. This was doomed from the start, and Mads hadn’t seen that. He wouldn’t let himself see that. Gyro had been right, he’d had Mads completely wrapped around his finger, Mads likely would’ve gone along with and believed anything Gyro had told him.

Then Gyro tried to kill him.

Gyro had disliked Mads so much, and thought he was useless enough to actually kill him off. 

That thought terrified Mads. 

And if he saw Gyro again, there was no doubt Gyro would try again. What if next time he was successful? What if Mads ended up being murdered by the person he valued most in the world? 

Gyro was the most important thing in Mads life, and Mads had entirely taken his life away from him. Mads could hardly believe what he’d done, and suddenly he felt a vile surge of disgust for himself. Like a huge green wave of repulsion it washed over him, nearly enough to make him gag. In the moment, what he’d been doing had felt okay. Looking back, Mads wished with everything he had that he could’ve just left well enough alone and scrapped the idea. 

But Gyro had tried to kill him. Without Blacklight, Mads would likely be dead. Gyro must’ve been acting for most of the time, just going along with what Mads wanted so he could keep him happy until he decided to strike.

And he’d struck with venom.

Continuously calling Mads a clone, really letting him now that that was all he saw him as. That it was all Gyro had ever seen him as. And Mads didn’t know if Gyro was lying to make Mads feel worse, or if it was true.

An old memory resurfaced, from just after they’d rescued Gyro from F.O.W.L. the last time. Gyro standing before him, rolling his eyes and dismissively waving a hand. “You’re my… weirdly loyal clone.”

Maybe that really was all Gyro had seen him as. That yes, none of this had been real. It’d just been to keep Mads happy so he wouldn’t snap like this.

Well, obviously even that hadn’t worked. 

“Hey, Blacklight?” Mads whispered into the dark. 

Blacklight had jumped over to the nightstand, and their bulb brightened slightly as Mads spoke. “Yes?” 

“Can… Can you come over here?” 

Blacklight knew what Mads wanted, and they nodded. They leapt over onto the bed, nestling down next to Mads. Mads grinned, moving his arm just enough that he could reach up and gently rub their bulb with a finger.

The little lightbulb leaned into it, looking very happy. Mads didn’t think they could actually feel it, but Blacklight had always loved it when Mads stroked their bulb.

“Are you okay?” Blacklight asked, opening their eyes. 

“No.” Mads admitted. “But thank you for being here.”

“I am happy I can help.” Blacklight nestled closer to Mads, and Mads was eternally grateful that he wouldn’t be so alone in this. In that moment, the small dark room didn’t feel so tiny and hopeless.

Chapter Text

It was dark when the figure moved down the stairs. 

Light on its feet, it made no noise as it slipped across the creaky boards and down into the basement, easily passing the den where a blond chicken sat on the couch, watching something or other on the TV. 

The figure passed behind the back of the couch, and crossed the open gap between it and the hallway in less than a second. 

The blond chicken didn’t see a thing. 

In the hallway the shadow blended in with the darkness, now entirely invisible to anyone else that might be in the hall. All of the doors were shut except the third on the left, which yawned open into an inky abyss. 

But the figure could see perfectly into the room, where yet another figure slept on the bed next to a dimly glowing purple light. It slipped inside, silently shutting the door.

It was the epitome of stealth. The definition of silence. It could be anywhere, at any time, and no one would be able to see it. Even in broad daylight, the figure knew exactly how to fit in. Down here in the dark basement, no one would even know a thing about this.

The figure stole to the nightstand. 

Pulling off her night-vision goggles, Webby flicked on the lamp.

Mads woke to a blindingly bright light appearing suddenly not far from his face and he groaned in protest, squeezing his eyes tighter shut and digging the side of his face further into the pillow. From next to him he could hear Blacklight standing, ready to protect him.

“Turn that off,” he grumbled, wishing he could pull the blanket up over his head. 

“Don’t try anything, Mad Ducktor.” A surprisingly high voice came from right next to the bed.

Mads tried to open his eyes, but the lamp was too bright and too close. He gave up and turned his head to the other side. “Hmph. It’s too early.” 

The voice sounded like it hadn’t expected this. “I-it’s almost time for dinner…” 

“Wake me up when the sun’s up.” Mads instructed, letting himself relax a little, ready to fall back asleep. Clearly whoever it was wouldn’t have just announced themselves like this if they had any malintent. 

“O-oh, um… But you’ve been sleeping all day.” 

“And?” 

“Can- can I just ask you some questions?” 

“The interrogation was earlier, you missed it.” 

“It’s… not about that.” 

Mads gave an annoyed and longing sigh as he finally accepted that whoever this was wasn’t going to let him go back to sleep, and he slowly hauled himself into a sitting position. The pain in his back and arm had lessened slightly, and hopefully it would stay that way long enough for him to sleep later. 

Right now however, he had to deal with whoever had the audacity to wake him up.

“Pink one?” Mads asked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, now very confused. “What do you want?” 

“Hi!” She waved, and Mads already knew they were going to be here for a while. “I’m Webby!” 

“Mm- hm. What do you want?” 

“Just to ask you some questions!” She gave a big cheesy smile, one that didn’t convince Mads to listen to her in the slightest. They must’ve told the kids he was here, if she was coming to seek him out like this. 

“You woke me up for this?” Mads asked, his annoyance obvious in his voice as he reached to grab his glasses from the nightstand. Blacklight stood on his knee, eyeing the pink duckling suspiciously. She stood about a foot from the bed, her hands behind her back, bouncing excitedly- or nervously- on her toes.

“Sorry. I just didn’t know if I’d get another chance to ask you.” 

“Listen, if this is about Gyro or anything related to-” 

“No, don’t worry, it’s not!” Pink Niece cut him off, her awkwardly encouraging smile never fading. “Well, not really. I’ve just been wanting to ask you about something.” 

“Wha-” Mads glanced up, and noticed that the bedroom door was shut. 

No. He couldn’t be trapped here again. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, Mads moved back to sit against the wall. “Is the door locked?” 

“No… I just shut it when I came in here.” Webby replied. Mads could almost see the confusion on her face. 

“It- it needs to be open.” 

“Why?” 

“Because. Just open it.”

“But then Archimede will-” 

“Open it. Now.” 

He got no further protest, and the next thing he heard was the quiet creak of the door opening. Mads let out a breath and opened his eyes just as the pink duckling was walking back over to him. “What’s that about?” 

“Nothing,” Mads muttered. He didn’t know why he couldn’t handle being back in this room, but he really couldn’t. It’s where everything had been ruined last time, and while he knew now that Gyro never meant to abandon him down here, three days with nothing to do felt like a long time. The way his thoughts had spiraled down into hopelessness was something he wouldn’t forget easily. It felt a bit more freeing with the door open, like both he and his thoughts had somewhere to escape, instead of being trapped. 

“Archimede’s gonna find out I’m here soon.” Pink Niece said, sounding disappointed.

“What was your question?” Mads asked, wanting to get this over with. She obviously wasn’t going to leave him alone until he at least heard her out. 

“O-oh, yeah!” Pink Niece perked up a little. “I’ve been wanting to ask someone about this who would get it, and I didn’t have anyone to ask, but now that you’re here maybe we can talk about it!” She grinned at him. 

Her smile did nothing to change his annoyed frown. “What is it?”

“I wanted to ask about clone stuff, I thought that since you-” 

But Mads wasn’t listening anymore. 

“I know all about this since I came first, of course. With you being the clone and all.”

“That’s all you are! A mere copy and paste of me, with a head full of insane ideas. Where did you get the idea you’d be more?”

“You’re simply just a clone, and a now useless one at that. So I’ll ask you again, why are you still here?”

 “Stop denying it, clone. Even the way I am now, all you’ve done is completely model your life and appearance after mine!”

 “Why?” Mads snapped, having no idea if he was cutting her off or not.

Pink Niece looked up from her ramblings, confused. “Why what?”

“Why are you bringing this up?” He demanded, leaning forward. He was quick to entirely shut her out, and hardly even let her answer. “Are you doubting me? Asking if I’m just Gyro? Do you really think-” 

“N-no!” Pink Niece quickly assured him. “I was just asking-” 

“What’s going on in here?” They both glanced up to see Archimede standing in the doorway, blinking in the light from the lamp. “Webby, when did you get down here?” 

“I-I just came to ask the Mad Ducktor something!” Pink Niece told him, her tone nervous.

“She was just leaving.” Mads growled, glaring at the duckling. He couldn’t talk about this right now. Not after Gyro had completely upended what he’d thought about being a clone.

“But-” 

“Out.” Mads glared at her. 

Pink Niece winced. “I-I guess I can come back later?” 

“Don’t come back at all.” Mads grumbled, but his words were lost in Archimede’s. 

“How on Earth did you get down here? I was sitting on the couch, I would’ve seen you!” 

“Granny’s spy training, remember!” Pink Niece told him, grinning. “S-speaking of which, you won’t tell her I’m down here, will you? I don’t think she wants me by the Mad Ducktor. I might get in trouble.” 

Mads snorted. “Don’t worry kid, I don’t want you by me either.” 

The duckling winced again, looking utterly dejected. Mads couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Archimede ran a hand down his face. “I guess I won’t tell her. Just the next time you sneak down here, please tell me! What did you even want to ask him about, anyway?” 

Pink Niece glanced at Mads, rubbing the back of her neck as she walked to the door. “O-oh, it was nothing. I can leave now.” She turned and left, looking as if she were walking as fast as she could without drawing attention to herself. 

Confused, Archimede watched her go, then looked at Mads for an explanation. But Mads was already laying back down, Blacklight jumping over to the nightstand to switch the light off. 

Archimede stood there for a moment, before turning to walk back down the hallway. 

Thanks to the Pink Niece, Mads couldn’t fall back asleep.

His mind continued to repeat everything that Gyro had said about him being a clone, and Mads spent nearly the next hour constantly shifting his position to get comfortable, meanwhile trying to block out the thoughts. 

Was Gyro right? Mads had tried so hard to be like the old Mad Ducktor that he’d forgotten that it was just Gyro. Heck, that one hadn’t even had its own body, like Mads did. It was just another part of Gyro’s mind. 

It was just a bundle of rage and sadness that had come together to protect itself. Now that’s what Mads was, still trying- and failing- to protect the same person. Hell, he’d even used the same exact name. This really had all been for nothing. Years of trying to prove himself different that had been built on a lie. 

In the end, Mads gave up and stood, and Blacklight immediately sensed they were going somewhere and jumped up onto his head. The Mad Ducktor crept out to the den where Archimede was still on the couch, watching a movie with a plate of food on his lap. 

Mads wordlessly came and sat on the couch next to him, and Archimede jumped, reaching for the remote to pause his movie. “O-oh, Mads! I didn’t hear you walk in.” 

Mads didn’t answer, just tried to figure out how far he could lean back against the couch cushions before the pressure on his wound became too much. Turns out it wasn’t very far, and he instead settled on sitting straight-backed a few inches from the cushion, his legs crossed. Well, if one good thing came out of this, it would be that it might finally fix his posture. 

“What’s up?” Archimede asked him. “Do you want some dinner? I think there was some left.” 

“I’m fine right now.” Mads told him, staring at the TV screen. It currently showed a far-out view of a large mushroom-cloud explosion. “I couldn’t fall back asleep.” 

“Oh, okay. What was Webby down here for?” 

Mads looked at him, confused. 

Archimede frowned. “The pink one?” 

“Oh, right.” Mads couldn’t remember if he’d known that or not. He’d never been able to remember any of their names, no matter how many times he’d heard them. The triplets were the worst, trying to remember which name belonged to which color got confusing, especially when fake names like ‘Bluey’ and ‘Phooey’ were thrown in now and then. “She wanted to ask about clones, for some reason.” 

“What about them?” Archimede asked, sounding intrigued.

“I don’t know, you showed up and she left. I didn’t want to talk about it.” Mads hoped Archimede wouldn’t press him on it. 

But of course, always one to want to fix things, Archimede did. “Why not? I thought you were past a lot of that, besides I’m sure she’s just asking about how the clone spray works or something, knowing Webby.”

“Probably.” Mads said quietly. “I don’t know, Gyro brought a lot of it back when he attacked me. He… kinda made it obvious the whole time and especially towards the end that in being the original he was the one that existed first, and therefore had more experience than me, for some reason.”

“Oh… But you know that’s complete nonsense, right?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” Archimede was right, that part of it at least was nonsense. Gyro likely had just said it to make Mads feel bad. But why was it something that he’d stuck by all along, even before he decided to get rid of Mads?

“Is… is that it?” Archimede asked him. 

“Oh what, you think that’s not enough?” Mads asked teasingly. He smirked at Archimede, who immediately backtracked. 

“N-no I just thought since you knew that wasn’t true that-” He broke off as Mads burst out laughing, leaning forward slightly.

“I know, I’m kidding Archie.” Mads’ smile faded. “You’re right, there was more. Gyro um… pointed out that since I tried hard to be like the old Mad Ducktor I was still technically trying to be like him, because that first version of the Mad Ducktor is still Gyro. So that entirely defeats the purpose of me-”

This time Mads paused as Archimede burst out laughing, Mads looked at him in utter surprise and offense as the blonde bird desperately tried to hide his outburst behind his hand, and failed. The giggles just snorted out of him, which only made him laugh harder.

“Excuse me?” Mads asked, bewildered and hurt. “This changes everything-”

“No, no, I’m not laughing at you!” Archimede assured him through his snorts. “Just at Gyro, I guess.”

“What?” Mads squinted at him. 

“W-well, don’t you remember?” Archimede asked, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. “For months after that first Mad Ducktor attack Gyro tried his hardest to prove that he was nothing like that, right? That was probably the nicest I’d even seen him after the Tokyolk fiasco, he was Mr. Cheerful and Generous for a long time just to show that he wasn’t anything like the Mad Ducktor. And we already knew that, he didn’t need to go through all of that.” 

Mads nodded, trying to think back to what he remembered. Yes, Gyro had definitely tried to prove himself after the first Mad Ducktor fiasco, both trying to show himself and everyone around him that it wouldn’t happen again, and Gyro would never do anything like that on his own. 

Archimede was still talking. “So I think it’s a liiiiittle absurd for Gyro to try and pull that on you.” 

“And absurd for me to believe it.” Mads grumbled, embarrassed. How Gyro had gotten under his skin so easily like that proved how much Mads hung onto his every word, wanting to prove himself. “But… really? Because that is just another part of Gyro-” 

“Yeah, something that’s supposed to be the opposite of him.” Archimede pointed out. “Just because it still has his mind and body doesn’t mean it’s him. Heck, we spent half our time around him yelling at him saying that it wasn’t!”

“Okay, okay. I get it. I don’t know why that got to me so much. The way he said it so condescendingly as he was literally trying to kill me just… made it stand out more, I guess.” 

“I don’t know how you can say that so nonchalantly, but I’m happy you can see that Gyro was just trying to make you feel bad.” Archimede smiled reassuringly at him. “Even just the little bit of what I saw of how he treated you, it doesn’t sound like he really had your best interests at heart.” 

“He wasn’t like that all the time,” Mads defended with a shrug. “I-I mean, he got angry a lot but other than that-” 

“Mads, he tried to hit you over an argument!” Archimede exclaimed. “I really don’t think anything else he did can excuse that!” 

He was right. Gyro hadn’t apologized for that, he hadn’t even brought it up later. “Yeah, I guess so. I just really wanted things to work out because I had everything riding on that, so I didn’t see all of the red flags.” 

Archimede sighed, leaning farther against the couch. Suddenly he went from trying to point out the obvious to extremely tired. “So… you really weren’t lying to the Ducks back there? That’s your reason for all of this?” 

Mads nodded. “Yes… it is. But I’m ready to fix it all now, I know I probably won’t get Gyro’s trust back, but at least I can clean up after myself.” 

“I don’t think the Ducks are going to let you help,” Archimede told him. “They wouldn’t trust you near any of the things they’re working on to fix everything. Besides, I’m sure half of them are going to point out that you’re only sorry because this went wrong.” 

“Yeah, I really don’t want to deal with all of them.” Mads grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Della just can’t let this go, apparently.” 

“Can you blame her?” Archimede asked. “Gyro is her best friend! She already didn’t like you, and on top of that she’s completely stressed about all of this. I know Donald is too.”

“It doesn’t mean that she has to keep bothering me about it! I gave them my story, and that’s it. I don’t know what else she wants from me, I don’t have any more to give. But now she just has to question me about it. Again.” 

“She just wants results,” Archimede said quietly. “We’re all missing the action, and even with the anti-ego machine being built, it doesn’t feel like we’re doing enough. So we thought you could give us more answers.” 

“I mean I can, I know where Gyro’s hideout is.” Mads said with a sly smile. “But she just wants to bother me about my actions, which I already regret, she doesn’t have to rub it in.” 

Archimede gasped. “That’s right, you do! Where is it? We could go there and capture him!” 

“Good luck. Once he finds out I’m still alive he’ll likely have moved everything.” 

“But where is it?” 

Mads smirked. “I’m not telling until the Ducks promise that I can go along whenever they decide to raid the hideout. I’m not sure how much I can trust that you won’t just tell them.” 

He was right, Archimede likely would tell the Ducks, just to try and alleviate the tension. “But then we have to wait for your arm and back to heal enough! If you tell us now we can go now!”

“If Gyro does anything catastrophic then I’ll tell you. But if he doesn’t, then you all have to wait for me.”

“What was your plan to kill Scrooge, anyway?” Archimede asked, leaning forward. “Why did you think you’d need Gyro to help, when he sounds confident that he can do it on his own?”

“I’d explain it, but it’s long and convoluted and doesn’t really matter at this point.” Mads waved a low dismissive hand. “Gyro would’ve had to evacuate the lab, which means he definitely can’t do it on his own without the equipment.”

“Do you know of a way to track him down?” 

Mads shook his head. “Maybe we’ll find one at the hideout, but besides that I don’t know. I don’t think he’d leave anything obvious behind, so we’ll have to search the whole thing.” 

“Sounds like quite a mission. Are you sure you’re up for the ordeal? Because if you want to stay behind, then-”

“Oh don’t try me.” Mads rolled his eyes. 

Archimede shrugged. “It was worth a shot. Do you want dinner? You can stay out here with me, if you want to.” 

Mads shook his head, yawning. “No, I should go back to bed. I’m tired. But… Thank you, Archie. I know I deserve none of this, especially your kindness, so thank you. You’re the best.” 

It looked like there was a lot that Archimede wanted to say, but the blond bird settled on a small nod and a slightly-strained smile. “You’re welcome, Mads. Now get some rest, you need it.” 

Over the next three days, Mads tried everything he could to keep the Ducks from questioning him again. Every time they showed up he either pretended to be asleep or in too great of pain to talk, and it worked. 

On most of them, at least. Beakley caught on by the end of the first day. 

“You can’t hold them off forever, you know.” She said as she set his plate of food down on the nightstand. “They’re going to figure it out sooner or later.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mads told her, reaching for the plate. He was starving. 

“You say you’re unable to talk to them due to the pain, but you just pushed yourself up with your right arm. If the pain were as great as you say, that shouldn’t be possible.” Beakley looked at him smugly. “You can’t sneak a thing past me, Mad Ducktor.” 

Mads frowned, knowing he’d make a fool of himself if he tried to keep up the act around her. “Fine. Please don’t tell them? I don’t want to deal with all of them again.” 

“I really should,” Beakley said. “They deserve answers.” 

“And I gave them!” Mads pointed out. “I’ve told them everything they want to know. I’ll tell you anything, I just don’t want all of them here.” He frowned. “Especially not Della.” 

“Fortunately for you, you’re right. You need rest right now, and clearly the added stress of their presence isn’t going to help with that.” Beakley crossed to the door. “I won’t tell them you’re doing better, just as long as you don’t lie to me about it. But they’re going to figure this out eventually. I’ll be back for that plate in a few minutes.” With that she left, before Mads could get a word in. 

By the end of the third day the visits got more frequent, until Mads was pretty sure Della was at the door every hour waiting for him to get up. Finally Blacklight got her to leave, but not before she promised to be back in the morning. 

Mads sighed as he sat up, Blacklight running back across the room and jumping up on the bed. “She’s not going to leave me alone, is she?” He asked the lightbulb, picking them up and holding them in his palm. 

Blacklight shook their head. “I do not think so. But you have delayed her this long!” They were clearly trying to be encouraging, and it made Mads smile.

“I guess I did. Now all I can do is prepare for tomorrow, I guess.” A day of getting yelled at and deflecting questions, hoping that he was able to keep up his appearance while still being able to apologize to Fenton and Archimede.

Mads reached over and flicked on the lamp, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep just yet. He’d gotten pretty good at keeping himself entertained while in the Supercell, but he found being isolated with Blacklight made it much more manageable. So far they’d discovered a way to play tic-tac-toe by tracing the lines with their fingers on the bed, and Blacklight was able to accurately recall which move had been used where. It was pretty entertaining. 

Mads was just leaning back to his former position when he felt something tap his back, and he leapt about a foot in the air with a squawk. “Blathering blatherskite!” 

He landed back on the bed half twisted around, just able to catch himself on his good elbow, but still pulling on his arm in a way that sent a shock of pain through his injury. 

From next to the bed, the new little intruder, the pink niece, looked concerned. She must’ve slipped in while Mads’ back was turned. “O-oh, sorry! I didn’t think-” 

“What are you doing here?” Mads demanded, his heart still racing. Hardly anything good happened when he was snuck up on. 

“I just wanted to ask you more about my question!” She awkwardly twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “I didn’t know you said ‘blathering blatherskite’ too!” 

“I don’t,” Mads grumbled, sitting up more. His copying of Gyro’s mannerisms were entirely unintentional, to the point where Mads hardly noticed them. 

“But you just-”

“What do you want?” 

“Oh, right. W-well, I wanted to ask you about clones again, because you didn’t say anything last time…” 

“That’s because I didn’t want to.” Mads sniffed, setting his pillow up against the bed’s small headboard. He tried leaning against it, but it still hurt too much. Again, he had to settle for sitting straight-backed a few inches away. 

“Y-yeah. Um… This isn’t anything about how you compare with Gyro or anything, I promise. I’ve just had problems with-” 

“Get to the point, kid.” Mads snapped, not wanting to deal with her ramblings. Sure, he needed a way to keep himself occupied until he felt tired enough to sleep, but conversing with the enemies was not at the top of his list for one of the methods. 

“Okay!” The pink niece grinned. “Can I sit? It’s a long-” 

“On the floor, you can. And I don’t want you here longer than ten minutes.” 

“I don’t think-” 

“Ten. Minutes.” 

“Alright.” Pink Niece sighed and sat cross-legged on the floor next to the bed. “I guess you need the whole story… My family did a search of the F.O.W.L. headquarters after we got the tip-off, but by then F.O.W.L. had already evacuated-” 

“Excuse me, that was my hideout!” Mads interrupted, unable to stand by while she got facts wrong. “They stole it from me! And I was the one who sent in the tip-off, thank you very much.” 

Pink Niece looked like she wanted to say something else, before she remembered she was on a time crunch. “Okay then, your old hideout. Anyway, we found a bunch of their old computers, ones that had everything stored. From what it looked like all of the information was supposed to be destroyed, but the sequence malfunctioned and didn’t work.” 

Mads raised an eyebrow, trying not to show his intrigue. “Oh? And what crazy convoluted torture scheme did you find?” 

Pink Niece began explaining, and suddenly Mads didn’t care about her ten minute limit. He slowly became more shocked and intrigued, and leaned forward a little as she spoke. When Blacklight buzzed saying it’d been ten minutes, Mads quickly shushed them. 

“There’s no way this is real,” he said when she was done. He shook his head, snorting. “I have to admit, you’ve got quite the imagination-” 

“It is real!” Pink Niece insisted, almost pleadingly. “I swear!” 

“You expect me to believe that you’re a clone of Scrooge created by F.O.W.L. for some crazy scheme of theirs? And Bentina found you?” Mads laughed again. “This is quite absurd.” 

“I’m not lying!” Pink Niece told him, scooting a little closer to the bed in earnest. “We did a test, I have matching DNA with Scrooge. Technically, I see myself as his daughter, but… I’m his clone. April McDuck.” 

“Pink Niece, I didn’t get this far believing every insane story I was told. Next time, try to make it at least a little realistic. Anyway, your ten minutes is long up, get out of here. Frankly, this is just insulting.” 

“First, my name’s Webby, and-” 

“Don’t care. Leave.” Mads nodded towards the- thankfully- open door. Pink Niece must’ve talked to Archimede beforehand, since he didn’t come to check on things this time. 

The duckling sighed, standing and trudging dejectedly towards the door. “Okay… Sorry for wasting your time. I just thought you of all people would get it, I guess I was wrong.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mads asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Pink Niece glanced back. “W-well, since you’re a clone too, I thought it would be nice to talk to someone who understood it.” 

“Understood what?” 

She turned around, facing him fully, but still not meeting his gaze. Now that she mentioned it, her eyes were nearly the same color as Scrooge’s… But that didn’t mean anything, did it?

“I guess… Lately I’ve been having a hard time separating myself from it. Am I Webby, or just a young version of Scrooge? I’ve always wanted to grow up being just like him, but… now that sounds scary. What if I’m not Webby anymore?” 

Mads studied her. “You’re serious about this,” he said quietly. He’d never heard anyone else describe it like that, and her words hit close to home for him. “You’re actually Scrooge’s clone?”

She nodded, finally looking at him. “I don’t know how much I want to be.” 

Mads shook his head, chuckling. “You’ve got it easy, kid. How old are you, ten?”

“Thirteen,” the duckling corrected with a frown. 

“You’ve had thirteen years to separate yourself from Scrooge, without knowing you were his clone. Thirteen whole years to completely develop yourself differently.” Mads on the other hand had had only three years, and ones where he knew he was a clone the whole time. He’d had to deal with developing the personality change himself, with the nagging doubt the whole time, and with feeling constantly reminded that he was nothing but an expendable duplicate.

“I-I know, but…” Pink Niece was clearly growing more agitated, she knit her fingers together and bounced more on her toes. “I’ve grown up learning about Scrooge, and lately I’ve realized that as a kid, he was a lot like me. The same thirst for knowledge and adventure, the same quest for greatness and to prove himself! What if when I grow up, I’m just… him?” 

“Didn’t you say that’s what you wanted? I don’t see your point.” 

“Well, yeah, but… I still want to be Webby.” 

“Then be that!” 

“But what if that’s Scrooge?” 

“But it’s not. It’s you.” 

“But-” she broke off with a frustrated groan. “But what if that’s just a copy of Scrooge? Am I Scrooge 2.0? What if I just end up repeating everything he does somehow? Then do I even have any meaning?”

“Look, I don’t know, kid. This is all stuff I had to figure out for myself-” 

“I know!” The duckling wrapped her arms around herself, her voice cracking. “I know I should just figure it out and that I can and that it’s actually all fine, but I-I haven’t been able to so far so I thought you could help!” 

“With what?” Mads asked. Oh blathering blatherskite, was she going to cry? Mads definitely didn’t want to deal with that.

“I don’t know, just make me feel better!” She exclaimed.

“Oh, and that’s my job?” 

“It’s not- I-” Pink Niece took a deep breath. “I just thought you might be able to help me figure things out. Because it’s been hard, and no one around me gets it. I thought you would.” 

Mads sighed. “I do get it. It’s just… hard to talk about, I guess.” 

The duckling scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. “Yeah.” 

That’s when Mads realized how much she was putting herself out there by coming down here to ask him. This was obviously a sensitive subject, and she was being brave by going to her enemy to ask for help with it. His dismissive attitude really hadn’t helped. 

Having no idea why he was trying, Mads leaned forward a little, his tone much more genuine than before. “Would you say I’m Gyro?” 

She studied him, his question pulling her from her thoughts. “Well, I would say you have the same body, but that no, you’re not Gyro.” 

“Well then-” 

“Gyro would never wear his hair like that, it’s not maintained enough.” 

Mads rolled his eyes. “Ha, ha, you’re a riot. Now shut up I’m trying to help here. So if I’m not Gyro, then wouldn’t that mean that you’re not Scrooge?” 

“Well what about the other clones?” Pink Niece asked. “The ones that were killed in the Moonvasion? They were still Gyro, weren’t they?”

“Sure. They were. But they didn’t have their own names, did they? We- he- I- they were given numbers. Whatever your name is sounds a liiiiiiittle different than ‘Scrooge’, doesn’t it?” 

The duckling giggled. “For the third time, it’s Webby! S-so you’re saying all I have to do is get a different name?” 

“Well, I guess that’s the first step.” Mads said. “Let me guess, your favorite color is pink?” She nodded. “Excellent choice, mine is too. Well, you and I both know that Scrooge really likes red. It’s similar, but not the same. So that’s another way you’re different.” 

“But what if I grow into liking red?” The Pink Niece asked. “What if Scrooge’s old favorite color was pink, and now it’s red?” 

“Then that’s that! I share similarities with Gyro, but I’m still not him. We may not have the same favorite color, but we have the same favorite time of day. What about… your favorite coin?” 

“I’ve always liked pennies.” Pink Niece admitted, smiling. “They don’t do much on their own, but once you get a whole army of them then you can buy a candy bar! Plus, they’re the odd ones out in color. They stand out!” 

“And Scrooge has always been partial to dimes.” Mads pointed out. “He was younger than you when he earned his first dime, right? So that’s likely something that you won’t ‘grow into’.” 

The duckling thought about that for a moment, before she grinned. “Y-yeah, I guess you’re right! I-”

“What is going on here?!” 

They both jumped, looking up to see a very angry Mrs. Beakley standing in the doorway. Archimede hovered behind her, shooting Mads and the Pink Niece an apologetic look.

“G-Granny!” The duckling exclaimed. “I-I was just coming to ask the Mad Ducktor-” 

“Webby, please leave. I’ll speak with you in a moment. Archimede, please take her upstairs.” 

Archimede quietly ushered Pink Niece down the hall as Beakley stepped towards Mads. She was large and intimidating, but he refused to be fazed. Mads looked at her with an expression bordering on boredom. 

“Stay away from my granddaughter,” she growled. “You may have been allowed in our home, but that doesn’t mean you can go around influencing the minds of the kids.” 

Mads laughed. “She came to me!” He smirked. “Besides, she isn’t your granddaughter, is she?” 

That was very obviously the wrong thing to say, but Mads didn’t care. Still, he had to stop himself from flinching as Beakley stood over him, anger on her face. “She will always be my granddaughter, whether we’re related or not. I don’t want you talking to her again.” 

“Why not?” Mads asked with a yawn. “What, do you think I’m going to make her turn on Scrooge, or something? Honestly, she’d be the last one I’d pick to do that, she’s too brainwashed-” 

“Stop it.” Beakley snapped. “Just don’t go near her again.” 

But Mads ignored her. “I’m just saying, that green one likely would if you gave him enough mon-” 

“Leave Louie out of this! He-” 

“Oh, so that’s his name. Louie’s the shady one, I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Beakley leaned down in his face, and this time it was a struggle to keep his expression impassive. “I don’t want you talking to her again. She doesn’t need your influence, especially right now. Leave her alone.”

“Again, she came to me. And it sounds like she needs my help the most right now. But whatever you want…” He trailed off, leaning back. 

Knowing that was the best answer she was going to get, Beakley straightened up. “I’m sure Della can come up with enough consequences for you if you disobey the few guidelines you have.” 

With that she turned and walked out of the room, hesitating for a moment in the doorway. Mads saw her hand straying to the door handle and his heart jolted, but Beakley just sighed and set off down the hallway. 

—

Webby was waiting in the foyer when Beakley walked upstairs. The sun had just gone down outside, and the light was on. 

“Why can’t I talk to him?” Webby asked as her grandmother approached.

Beakley knelt down to her level, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Because he’s dangerous, Webbigail. If he could, he would try to smooth-talk you into joining him. And I don’t want to give him that chance.” 

“But I would never join him! He wants to hurt Scrooge!” Webby pointed out. “I just wanted to ask him about… stuff.” 

“What kind of stuff?” Beakley asked, but she already knew. She’d overheard nearly the entire conversation, from her position eavesdropping in the hallway. Why hadn’t Webby told her how much she was struggling with her identity? Call her petty, but Beakley wanted to be the one to help Webby, not to let the Mad Ducktor do it. She owed Webby that after years of lying to her. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” 

“I know, Granny.” Webby smiled. “It’s just… stuff. I don’t know. I just thought he might be able to help.” 

“What can he help with that I can’t?” Beakley asked, getting a little more vulnerable than she would’ve liked. 

Webby twiddled her thumbs together, clearly uncomfortable. “N-nothing, Granny. I’ll stay away from him.” With that she slipped from Beakley’s grasp and ran up the stairs.

Beakley sighed as she stood, watching Webby go.

Chapter Text

Mads woke to a knock. “Ducktor, get up.” 

Burying his face in his pillow, Mads let out a groan. “Della, just leave me alone.” 

“No. I have questions for you to answer. Archimede said that you know where Gyro is hiding, and I’m not leaving until you tell me.” 

Internally cursing Archimede for telling her, Mads turned his head so he could see the door. “I don’t know where he’s hiding.” 

Della rolled her eyes. “Well, where he was hiding. Tell me.” 

“Nope, not until I’m well enough to go along with you. Now goodnight.” He turned his head so he was facing the wall, away from her. 

“Well then I guess you’ll just have to put up with my questions until then!” 

“I guess I will,” Mads shot back, getting more comfortable. He hoped he only had a few more days of sleeping like this, his neck was really starting to ache.

In the end he was able to get Della to leave by completely ignoring her, but he still had to put up with half an hour’s worth of constant questions. After she left he dozed a little, before realizing how hungry he was. 

Well, Beakley hadn’t brought his food yet, he might as well go find some. 

Archimede was passed out on the couch when Mads walked through the den, and he stopped for a moment to reach over the back and affectionately ruffle his cousin’s hair. Archimede shifted slightly, but otherwise didn’t react. 

Mads hadn’t seen daylight in five days, and he was momentarily blinded, even inside. It took his glasses a moment to adjust to the brightness, before the tinted lenses automatically darkened to accommodate for the sudden light.

Blacklight on his shoulder, Mads walked to the kitchen, satisfied to find it empty. He found a box of more muffins in the pantry, then took some strawberries from the fridge and flopped down at the small breakfast nook in the corner of the kitchen. 

The window had a nice view of the well-maintained lawns of the mansion, with its nicely cut grass and scattered trees. The sun was halfway up the sky, shining over the cold morning. 

After his talk with Archimede a few days ago he was feeling a little better about the situation. While neither of them had actually brought it up during the conversation, Mads had slowly realized that that must not have been the true Gyro speaking when he took a dig at Mads’ clone insecurities. After all, he’d clearly just wanted to make Mads feel bad, because if both Archimede and Mads thought it was absurd that he’d try to use that against Mads, then Gyro likely knew it too. 

Mads didn’t want to get his hopes up, but part of him was wondering if that meant Gyro truly didn’t see him as an expendable clone. Gyro had said before that he didn’t, so maybe that had just been the ego machine part of him talking? 

Mads was halfway through his third muffin when someone walked in. He glanced up to see Red Nephew freezing in the kitchen’s doorway, staring at him. 

“Y-you’re not supposed to be up here.” The duckling stammered. 

Mads shrugged. “So?” He asked, his mouth still half full. “Where is everyone? I’m surprised no one’s noticed me yet.” 

“I’d never tell you, traitorous villain!” Red Nephew exclaimed, falling into a defensive stance. 

The Mad Ducktor snorted. “Okay, then don’t.”

Red Nephew wasn’t expecting that reply, and he studied Mads for a moment, before finally walking closer, stopping next to the kitchen island. “...What are you doing?” 

“Eating breakfast,” Mads replied, picking up another strawberry.

“How did you get up here? I thought you were too injured to answer our questions, let alone walk all the way up here.” The duckling pointed out, suspicious. 

“Hm, that’s because you all just happen to drop by when I’m feeling especially unwell.” Mads held his hand to his face, the sarcasm dripping from his tone. “Really, what are the odds?” 

“Almost- wait. You’re faking it?!” 

“Me? Fake? Never.” Mads smirked. 

Red Nephew frowned. “You are! Webby said you were just fine when she went to see you last night, too!” The duckling paused. “What did she ask you about? She wouldn’t tell me.” 

“I’m afraid that’s the Pink Niece’s story, not mine.” Mads looked out the window. At first he didn’t quite know why he was protecting her, but now it was obvious they didn’t want him anywhere near her. Well, if helping her out meant finding a way to defy the Ducks somehow…

The duckling’s frown grew. “You should be down in the basement, you’re not allowed up here. I’ll-” he broke off suddenly, still studying Mads. 

“You’ll what?” Mads asked after a moment as he used his left arm to shut the strawberry container. He knew he shouldn’t overextend it, but he’d been trying out moving that arm a little so it wasn’t so limp when he was able to truly move it again. The wound still hurt, but it was manageable most of the time, and moving it the little that Mads dared to didn’t make the pain worse. 

“S-sorry, I just forgot about your hand for a second.” The Red Nephew said, Mads’ words pulling him from his thoughts. He was staring at Mads’ left limp sleeve. 

Mads sighed, rolling his eyes. Even with another amputee in the house that they were all used to, he’d been expecting to get attention for his hand sooner or later. “Oh, well, lucky you.”

“Sorry,” the duckling apologized again, stepping closer so he was only about a foot away from the breakfast nook. “Mom said she had to um… remove hers herself, did you?” 

Mads nodded. “Yep. With a meat cleaver. It took two hits right to the-” 

Red Nephew stuck his fingers in his ears, squeezing his eyes shut. “I don’t need details, thanks.”

The Mad Ducktor laughed, and the Red Nephew took a tiny step forward, looking a little intrigued. “Why’d you cut it off? How did you know you could do it the right way? Did you cauterize it?” 

Mads briefly described the damage to his hand from the Moonlander’s electric bullet and the way it’d been further injured when he’d fallen off the hill. Then what he’d done to hopefully let it heal. By the time he was finished, the Red Nephew was sitting across from him. 

“Woah, you’re lucky you’re alive!” The duckling said excitedly, leaning his elbows on the table. “Not only were you able to keep it from bleeding out inside, but it also never got infected? That’s… that’s insane!”

“I don’t know, I can’t remember the first week after it happened very well. I didn’t have anything for the pain-”

“Really?” Red Nephew exclaimed. “Mom said it was surprisingly manageable, so she thought that the Oxy-Chew might’ve helped. But you didn’t have anything? How did you survive?” The duckling waved a hand at Mads. “So this must feel like nothing!” 

Mads snorted. “I wish. Even with what Beakley’s giving me, my back and arm still hurt like hell. But yes-” 

“What is going on here?!” 

Mads and Red Nephew jumped, looking up to see Beakley standing in the doorway to the kitchen. For the second time in twenty-four hours, she’d caught Mads talking to one of the kids. “Mad Ducktor, what are you doing up here?” 

“...Eating breakfast?” Mads said, in a ‘duh, obviously’ kind of tone. 

“You are not supposed to leave the basement! Where’s Archimede?” 

“Oh, I tied him up and locked him in the bedroom.” Mads said sarcastically with a shrug. “He should be fine though, I don’t think I hit his head too hard when I knocked him out.”

“What?!” Beakley and the Red Nephew exclaimed at the same time. 

Mads snorted. “He’s asleep downstairs, he probably needs it.”

“And you should be downstairs too, you’re not supposed to be up here.” Beakley stepped into the kitchen as Red Nephew scrambled down from the breakfast nook, running to her. “You’re lucky I found you before Della did. Now get downstairs.” 

In the end they managed to get Mads downstairs, even with the Mad Ducktor trying to be as difficult as possible. Red Nephew stayed behind to ask Mads a few more questions about his hand, while Beakley checked on Mads’ injury again. Eventually the duckling left, just as Beakley was inspecting Mads’ wound. 

“Well you certainly had a rough first few days, but it’s looking much better,” she told him. “I’d say you’ve still got a few more days until the stitches come out, but it’s healing nicely.” 

“How long is a few days?” Mads asked. “And when will I be able to lay down the right way? Or shower?” 

“Oh, you can shower whenever you want, just be careful.” Beakley said. “The next door down on this hallway is a bathroom, and the one at the end of the hall on the right is a laundry room for your clothes. And you can lie on your side whenever it feels alright to, I’d hold off lying on your back for a while.”

“Fine,” Mads grumbled. Even if it was healing, he wished it’d go faster. “What about updates on Gyro? What are you doing about that?”

“Well, we’ve been working on reconstructing the anti-ego machine to stop him.” Beakley informed him. “We haven’t heard a thing from him since you showed up. The anti-ego machine is going well, but there are a few things we have yet to work out.” 

“I could help,” Mads offered. “I’ve built the ego machine twice now, I-” 

Beakley cut him off, and her response was surprisingly harsh. “No, we’re alright, thank you. Besides, you’re not allowed around anything mechanical, let alone outside of the mansion.” 

Mads snorted. “Too bad, I already wandered through your kitchen. I’ve never built anything out of a refrigerator, but I imagine it wouldn’t be too hard-” 

“Stop.” Beakley growled. If it weren’t for her tone, Mads might’ve laughed, but she said it so sternly that he didn’t dare. “I don’t care if you’re joking or not, comments like that will have you down here until you’ve fully recovered. We don’t find you threatening our lives funny.” 

“Hold on, you’re saying you might let me out of the basement?” Mads asked hopefully. He’d mostly stopped paying attention after that.

“If you can prove that you’ll be on your best behavior, I think I can convince Della and Scrooge to let you upstairs every once and a while. It will do you no good to stay down here in the dark, especially like this.” 

Well Mads hadn’t known that. Maybe it was worth keeping his beak shut and not being difficult, just this once. But something about what Beakley said stuck with him.

“...Why are you helping me?” 

“I have morals, so I am simply just trying to keep you alive.” Beakley told him shortly as she began rebandaging his injury.

“Yes, but that doesn’t include letting me go upstairs at what you think is a risk to your safety, talking to me, or even feeding me regularly.” Mads’ voice grew quieter. “I’ve been imprisoned before, and this isn’t what it’s like.”

“If you’re comparing us to F.O.W.L., you’re going to find quite a lot of differences.” Beakley said, sounding offended.

“I wasn’t trying to say you’re like F.O.W.L., just that-”

“You were still comparing being imprisoned by a fiendish organization to being held in the basement of a family who is just trying to stay safe.” Beakley grumbled. 

“Either way, why are you being so nice? You don’t have to keep doing this, and you still do. Why?” 

The duck sighed. “I don’t know. I suppose you’re right about the way you’ve been treated, and while I know that I owe you nothing and you don’t deserve it-” Mads couldn’t help but nod- “letting this problem go unsolved is an injustice on my end.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You are right, we don’t give Gyro enough credit, and we should have gone looking for more of the clones. And even if that’s something that we can’t entirely be faulted for since we were mostly oblivious, we should’ve tried to give you a chance when you first arrived. You were in our basement for three days, and none of us reached out. Gyro, and by extension you are- or were- a part of this family, and we treated you poorly then.” 

“But that was years ago.”

“Indeed.” 

“And I've done more to hurt you since.” 

“Yes.” 

“And you owe me nothing.” 

“Correct.” 

“So this is just for your own peace of mind?” Mads figured at last, trying to find where Beakley fit in all of this. It was true, throughout all of this she’d probably been the kindest to him out of the entire Duck family, though that was likely due to her seeming indifference. 

“I guess. I regret not fixing things sooner, either. Maybe much of this could’ve been prevented if we’d admitted our mistakes.” She helped him shrug the robe back on, and Mads was at last able to shift around to look back at her.

“...That wasn’t up to any of you, though.” 

“But it was. We were the reason you were hurting.” 

“That was Lunaris-”

Beakley suddenly laughed, shaking her head. “Are you really defending us? After everything?” 

Mads opened his mouth, paused, then reconsidered. “I’m defending you. I’m not used to any of you admitting you were wrong about me.” 

“Well, we were, and I’m trying now to make up for it.” Beakley stood. “You can pay me back by staying down here and staying quiet, you’re already a handful as it is without you actually trying to be one.” 

Mads frowned. “Hey!” 

She chuckled, and that’s when Mads realized it’d been a joke. Here was Bentina Beakley, the stoic, no-nonsense, unshakable Agent 22, one of his enemies, joking. With him. Mads was so surprised that he hardly caught what she said next.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to help with the anti-ego machine, but I think I can at least allow you upstairs with a guard.”

“Am I allowed to talk to the pink one yet?” 

Beakley frowned. “No. Webbigail still needs to figure herself out before you-” 

“But that’s where I can help!” Mads pointed out, moving forward to the edge of the bed in earnest. “She needs another clone to-” 

“We can handle it.” Beakley said sharply, and Mads knew that it was the end of that conversation. “All you need to worry about right now is recovering, what you’re going to do when Gyro gets back, and making sure Della doesn’t get any more angry at you. And showering.” She raised an eyebrow. “Judging by your hair, you need one.” 

Mads winced, knowing she was right. “Do you think you could get my hand back?” 

Beakley shook her head, sighing. “No. While none of us have anything against you having a prosthetic, there’s still several built-in weapons there. Even if those were removed, you could just rebuild it into something you could use against us. So giving it back is outright handing you a weapon, and after all of your comments-” 

“But you know that’s all joking, right? And after this conversation I swear I won’t-” 

The duck held up a hand, and Mads fell silent. “No. You’re here right now because you betrayed Gyro’s trust in you. It would be foolish of all of us to trust you again. You’re not getting that back.” 

“Your trust or my hand?” 

Beakley just raised an eyebrow, and Mads knew the answer. For a second, he had to force himself to hold her gaze. “Fine. Oh, um… there’s a bracelet on it, it’s completely harmless but I hoped that-” 

“Oh, we found that.” Beakley said. “You want it back?” 

“Yes,” Mads fidgeted a little, he still had no idea how to talk to Beakley. She was on his side, but not entirely. She was trying to make up for what she’d seen as mistakes, while still not trusting him. “Gyro got it for me for Christmas.”

“Hm. I’ll see what I can do about that.” 

After that Beakley left, leaving Mads to mull over their conversation for a minute. Eventually he stood, first peeking into the den to see if Archimede was awake yet- he wasn’t- then searching the hallway for the bathroom and laundry room.

When he got back from his shower, one of the towel-like robes from the bathroom closet wrapped around him, he found Blacklight still in the bedroom, this time holding up a familiar charm bracelet. “Beakley came by with this,” they told Mads.

Mads grinned, holding out his wrist so Blacklight could snap it on for him. In addition to Gyro’s chicken, piano and muffin charms, Mads had found a lightbulb and a telescope charms to put on as well. 

The washer and dryer in the basement took ages, even with Mads’ small load. Mads wandered through the rooms while he waited, he had no idea what else was down here. 

It was mostly bedrooms, one of which contained another TV, and another with two beds instead of one. Mads wondered why Scrooge would invest so much into a basement that no one used, the other beds obviously hadn’t been touched in years. One of the rooms was a kitchen, and Mads was pleasantly surprised to find the fridge well-stocked with Peps, it must’ve been a backup one for when the one upstairs got too full. The freezer contained ice cream as well. 

Eventually his laundry was done, but by then Mads had been wandering around so much that he was exhausted. He hadn’t moved this much in days, and that paired with his current weakened state left him extremely tired. Archimede was just stirring as Mads got back in bed, Blacklight flipping the light off for him. By the time the blond bird had gotten up to check on Mads, Mads was already asleep. 

“Hey, hey, shhh… I’m sorry.” 

Mads pulled away from Gyro’s arms, glaring at him. “No! You don’t get to just fix everything like that after you almost killed me! After you purposely preyed on my clone insecurities!” 

“I know, I know, and I’m sorry.” Gyro took a step towards him, holding out a hand. “I wasn’t thinking right. But I’ve reconsidered-” 

“And if you’re only apologizing because you need my help-” 

“No! Well, your help would be greatly appreciated, but I want you. What I did was terrible-” 

Mads snorted. “You can say that again.” 

Gyro sighed, stepping even closer. He was slowly closing the gap between them. “What I did was absolutely terrible. I’m so, so sorry.” 

“Why did you do it?” Mads asked, his voice quiet and broken as he looked down at his feet. Still pulling away from Gyro, not ready to forgive him yet. “Why would you completely ruin everything? I’m finished now, Gyro!” 

“Because I let my pride get in the way. I thought I could do it all myself, and I didn’t see how much you’ve sacrificed for this.” 

“So you decided to kill me?” 

Gyro winced. “Maybe I did go a little too far.” 

Mads held up his left arm, the angry red skin that had been sewn together clearly visible. “A little?! You left me with no choice but to go to the Ducks for help!” 

“I know, I deeply regret what I did. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” 

“Take me back,” Mads snapped. “And take care of me. Let me get what I want. Never bring up the clone thing again.” 

Gyro nodded, almost before the words were out of Mads’ mouth. “Done.” 

Mads finally gave in, letting out a breath and sagging against Gyro, whose arms came up to hold him. “I’m so, so sorry Mads.” He said quietly. His hand traveled upwards to reassuringly brush through Mads’ hair.

  The Mad Ducktor refused to let himself smile at that. “You should be,” he grumbled against Gyro’s shoulder, but it lacked his earlier venom.

Gyro continued to whisper his apologies, gently stroking down Mads’ back as Mads let himself fully relax against him, letting out a deep breath. He felt safe here. Gyro was going to let him get everything he wanted. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, so sorry,” Gyro said, his hand going lower. He finally fell quiet, just holding Mads.

Mads suddenly felt something sharp between his shoulder blades, and he tensed, trying to pull away. “Hey, woah, what are you-” 

The Mad Ducktor broke off with a strangled gasp as there came the horrible feeling of something piercing through his skin, sliding right into him. He staggered backwards as Gyro let go of him, looking down…

…To see the sharp end of a long blade sticking right out of his chest.

Mads looked up at Gyro, pure shock on his face. His beak hung open as the pain slowly registered. 

Gyro smirked. “Sike.” 

Mads woke to his own screams.

Almost in an instant the light was flicked on and Blacklight was standing over him, looking more worried than Mads had ever seen them. 

The Mad Ducktor was soaked with sweat, his body aching and his heart racing. He swallowed a few times as Blacklight reassuringly patted his beak. “Are you alright? What happened?” 

Mads couldn’t answer for a moment, he was out of breath and there was a haunting echo of pain in his chest from the attack. It felt like he’d run a lap around the mansion, running from something that terrified him.

That’s when Beakley appeared in the doorway, out of breath. “What is going on?!” She asked. “Is everything okay?”

Mads squeezed his eyes shut. “J-just a nightmare,” he got out. “It’s fine, I’m fine.” 

Beakley looked relieved, her stance relaxing. “Oh. About what?”

“Gyro tried to kill me again,” Mads said, trying to say it as nonchalantly as possible. Maybe then she’d leave him alone. He sat up a little, swallowing again. “He stabbed me in the chest with a knife. It’s fine though, it was just a dream.” 

“He what?” Beakley asked, shocked. “How?”

Mads sat up more so he could wipe his eyes. “He… tried to convince me to come back, then hugged me and stabbed me from behind.”

“Did he say anything about why?” 

Mads shook his head. “No. It’s fine. It was just a dream.”

“If you’re sure…” she didn’t look reassured. “Do you need me to stay?” 

“N-no. I’m fine. You can go. Um… thanks.” 

“Alright… I’m just out here if you need me.” Beakley said, nodding at him. She turned and left, and Mads shifted so he was lying on his side. It didn’t hurt all that much, and he knew he would get used to it. However he could only lay on his right side, which left him facing the wall. 

Blacklight walked around so Mads was facing them. “That wasn’t a normal dream,” Mads whispered to them.

The robot tilted their head, looking confused. “What do you mean? What was it?” 

There was a certain feeling to this dream that he’d only felt a handful of times before, but he knew what it was. Something about the vividness and the way he was just dropped into the middle of a realistic conversation with no other context was familiar.

“It was a message from Gyro,” Mads said quietly as he put the pieces together. “He’s going to keep invading my dreams, I’ll have to relive his betrayal over and over again…” Mads sunk farther under the covers, as if he were hiding from the thought.

“As part of your mental connection?” Blacklight clarified. 

Mads nodded. 

This just got a whole lot worse. 

Mads was right. Gyro was not going to let him sleep. 

It was better during the day, for the dream connection to work they both had to be asleep, and Gyro clearly wasn’t sleeping then. Mads found himself sleeping through half the day to catch up on what he’d missed during the night. 

And it was a lot. Every time Mads calmed himself down enough to go back to sleep he was woken again by yet another nightmare, each one more terrible than the last. By the time the sun came up the bags under his eyes had reached a record shade of dark, and his eyes were red from crying. He’d started anxiously picking at the feathers around the scar on the end of his left arm again, and had gathered a concerning amount in the top drawer of the room’s desk.

“You look awful,” Beakley said as she walked into Mads’ room, a tray of food in her hands. It was the morning of the second day of nightmares. 

Mads knew she was right. “I can’t sleep,” he muttered, rubbing his eye. “These stupid nightmares won’t let me. I woke up five different times last night.”

She set the tray down on the nightstand. “Hm. I can see if I can find anything that will make you sleep more soundly, that might help…” 

Mads nodded. He didn’t know how that would affect his connection, but if it made it so he didn’t dream… “Maybe. T-thank you.”

Beakley smiled reassuringly. “You’re welcome. On a more upbeat note, you should be able to get your stitches out in a few days.”

Mads’ face lit up. “Really? It’s already been a week?” 

She nodded. “It’s been a hard week for all of us, it’s gone by both slower and faster than I thought it would. Hopefully you’ll be able to get well soon enough that you can lead us to Gyro’s hideout before he does anything catastrophic.” 

Mads shook his head. “Archimede told you about that too?”

“Yes, you’re lucky we were there to stop Della from forcing it out of you. Now let me go see if I can find some muffins in the pantry for you too.” 

Mads grinned. 

—

Fenton’s tired eyes scanned the city, the visor’s heat-sensing vision pinpointing exactly where every citizen of Duckburg was. He’d already looked over here three times, but it didn’t hurt to check again. 

“Anything?” Archimede asked over the helmet’s earpiece. 

Fenton sighed. “No sign of Gyro or any kind of secret hideout. I know the chances of finding him like this are slim, but…” 

But he’d gotten his hopes up too high. So far this was their only solution to finding Gyro, and it clearly wasn’t going to work. 

Fenton could hear Archimede’s disappointed exhale, and the duck frowned. He knew it wasn’t all resting on him, but since he was the only one out right now, it felt like it. “Well, it was worth a try. Come back whenever you want to, I think Donald’s making lunch.” 

Fenton nodded. “I think I’ll stay out for a minute, I’ll see you soon.” 

“See ya.” 

Fenton scanned the stretch of city one last time, before giving up. He then turned back towards the direction of the mansion, but he wasn’t going in just yet. A few minutes later, Fenton touched down in the woods and began searching the ground. 

It would take him ages to find the little black fin he’d tripped over with the naked eye, but thankfully with the vision on the visor he could easily detect things close to the surface of the forest floor. 

It was only five minutes later that Fenton finally found it, the fin and the antenna were both connected to a surprisingly large round object buried in the ground. Upon closer inspection, Fenton recognized it with a grin. 

It was the H.O.U.S.E., his and Gyro’s first project together. An underground shelter that was supposed to be habitable for a single occupant up to one year. For the first experiment they’d commanded it to bury itself somewhere on Scrooge’s property, but due to a design flaw of the antenna being stuck on the outside, they’d been unable to track it down when it dug its way underground. 

So then why was the antenna aboveground now? 

Fenton cleared his throat, wondering if it would still work. “H.O.U.S.E., open up!” 

A muffled voice spoke from somewhere underground. “Voice recognized: Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera. Enter.” 

A hatch opened up underground, revealing a narrow staircase leading down into the darkness. Fenton didn’t think Gizmoduck would fit, so he deactivated the armor and walked hesitantly down the steps. 

The place was an absolute wreck. 

The area was small and sphere-shaped, the circumference of the entire area was probably only fifteen feet. The bed had been lowered, and there were computer parts strewn across every surface. There were two or three intact computers, but the rest of the space was filled with parts. 

“H.O.U.S.E., who was here before me?” Fenton asked hesitantly, looking around. 

The automated voice replied. “The inventor Gyro Gearloose was here before you. He stayed here for approximately ten months, and was severely injured when he arrived.” 

What? When had that-

Fenton paused. 

The Mad Ducktor. 

He’d never told them where he’d stayed while recovering from the Moonvasion, and this must’ve been it. The H.O.U.S.E. would have everything he’d need, and it would really explain why he’d survived and why none of them had heard from him.

The Mad Ducktor had found this before, he’d been the one who prepared the antenna. It hurt even more to know that he’d been so close to the mansion, and yet none of them had found him.

Fenton continued looking around, looking for anything particularly important. This place likely didn’t hold much, and if it did, it would all be outdated. Any schemes, plans or goals would be three years old by now, and likely used or abandoned. 

After a moment the duck spotted the corner of a slip of paper underneath the pillow on the messy bed, and he quickly crossed to it, moving the pillow. 

It was a small folded note, and Fenton quickly unfolded it, scanning through its contents. It was recognizably Gyro’s- or the Mad Ducktor’s- handwriting.

This is stupid. None of them ever cared, so what’s the point? I’m still trying to get back to them, when none of them want me anymore. 

I should just give up. 

I’ve lost everything at this point.

But I can’t just let this go. This can’t all be for nothing. I need to prove to them that I can make it. That I did make it. But it’s their fault that I’m never going back. 

The Mad Ducktor was created as a defense. For vengeance. 

That’s what I need right now. 

Della shoved the letter back into Fenton’s hands. “So what? This changes nothing-” 

“But it gives you an insight into what he went through!” Fenton pointed out, folding the paper back up and putting it back into his pocket. “It explains a little more-” 

“Fenton, I’m sorry, but I really don’t care anymore.” Della said, sitting back against the couch. “He’s irredeemable to me, and there’s nothing you can do to change that. I know his story already, and I don’t care anymore.” 

They were sitting on the couch in the basement’s den, the sun had gone down hours ago and Fenton had finally gotten a chance to show other people his letter. Della, Archimede, and Beakley were sitting next to him. 

Archimede leaned forward. “Can I see it?” Fenton gave him the paper, and he read it through a few times. “It looks like he really considered giving up… I wonder what would’ve happened if he did. To him, and the rest of us.” 

“Gyro and I are technically only together because of him,” Fenton pointed out. “I think we might’ve still gotten together without him, but it likely would’ve taken a lot longer.”

Beakley peered over Archimede’s shoulder at the note. “It’s interesting to think that the ‘Mad Ducktor’ is a defense mechanism. It makes sense, but I never thought of it that way.” 

“Gyro pushes people away as a way to protect himself…” Archimede said, thinking. “That might explain why Mads is always doing things that make us doubt him. But I would’ve thought by now he would’ve learned that we are- well, before all of this we were- sticking around.” 

“Maybe he does it just automatically without realizing it?” Fenton suggested. 

“The ego machine one from before would,” Beakley told them. “The one we have now is a clone, and is only copying the original. He doesn’t have that kind of ‘programming’, I guess you could say. So I wouldn’t think it’s subconscious.” 

“And what does this explain for the ego machine one we have no-”

Fenton broke off as there came a screech from down the dark hallway, one that dragged out for an agonizing few seconds. It clearly came from a living throat, as it soon dissolved into the unmistakable sounds of sobs before getting quiet enough that they couldn’t hear it.

It was a shocking and heartbreaking sound, and it left Fenton’s feathers standing on end. 

The duck met Archimede’s eyes. “What in Selene’s name was that?” 

Della stood. “That was-” 

Beakley waved a hand, shaking her head. “It was the Mad Ducktor. Leave him alone.” 

Della ignored her instructions, stepping around the couch towards the hallway. “What is he-” 

“Della, come back here.” Beakley said. Her voice dropped to a lower whisper. “He’s been getting nightmares lately, and I know he wouldn’t like it if you of all people went in there. He usually turns me away, I don’t think-” 

“Nightmares? What kind?” Archimede asked. “When did this happen?” 

“The last few days,” Beakley informed him as Della walked back to the couch. “He says Gyro torments him in his sleep.” 

Fenton winced. “That’s not good.” He hadn’t considered that. 

“...Why not?” Della asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, because they’re terrible nightmares, firstly.” Fenton said. “And secondly because I think he means it literally.” 

Archimede looked like a thought had struck him, and he met Fenton’s gaze. “You don’t think…” 

“What?” Beakley asked. “He hasn’t said there’s anything special about them.”

Fenton quickly explained Gyro and the Mad Ducktor’s mental connection, and how it went through their dreams. That Gyro could find a way to haunt Mads forever, and Mads wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

“Gyro never told me about this,” Della said quietly when Fenton finished. She was clearly thinking hard. “I… what else wasn’t he telling me about, because I won’t let him talk about the Mad Ducktor? How long has this been happening?”

“Since F.O.W.L. kidnapped Gyro and we all thought he was dead.” Fenton told her. “That’s how we even learned he was alive, because the Mad Ducktor dreamed of Gyro asking him to come save him.” 

“Do they talk to each other often that way?” Della asked quietly. 

Fenton shook his head. “Not that I know of.” 

“Hold on, how have we never heard him before?” Archimede asked Beakley. “How often does he scream like that?” 

“A few times every night, he says his throat is always sore in the morning.” She explained. “But this basement is soundproof, I would’ve been surprised if you heard him. Webby and I did a training course last year that needed a soundproofed space, so we did it around the whole basement.” Beakley then sighed, standing. 

“Wait, where are you going?” Fenton asked. “I got more-” 

“I told the Mad Ducktor that I’d get him something to help him sleep better, but I forgot about it today.” The large duck explained “All I have now is some tea that might help, I’ll be back-” 

Archimede jumped up. “Can I do it?” 

Beakley looked surprised by the blond bird’s sudden enthusiasm. “Sure… It’s just upstairs in the back of the pantry, it’s in the green box.”

—

Donald stepped into the kitchen as Archimede put the mug of water into the microwave to heat it up. “Oh, what are you making?” 

“Hi Donald,” Archimede shot him a tired smile. “Some tea for Mads, he needs help sleeping.” 

“Oh, is that what Beakley got that for?” Donald asked, walking over to him. 

Archimede shrugged. “I guess, I don’t know. How are you doing?”

“All things considered, I’m alright.” Donald told him with a sigh. “I’m worried about Gyro, and I’m worried about you.” 

“Me?!” Archimede looked at him, confused. “Why?” 

“Well, because you’re a good person and you’ve been so close to the Mad Ducktor lately.” Donald explained, tapping his fingers on the counter. His face was illuminated in the warm light of the microwave. “I’m worried he might be… influencing you or something.”

Archimede raised an eyebrow. “Did Della put you up to this to learn more about him?” 

“What? No!” Donald quickly defended. “The Mad Ducktor is just so… evil, and you’re not, that it makes me worried for you.” 

“I’m fine, Donald.” Archimede assured him, turning around to lean against the counter. “Mads is… well I don’t know what he is now, but before this he was a good friend of mine, and I’m still fine. He isn’t ‘influencing’ me or anything.” 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Donald asked.

“Yes, I’m sure.” The blond bird said. “Thank you for asking, though.”

Donald shot him a smile. “No problem.”

The microwave beeped, and Archimede opened it, moving to take the mug out. However it was much hotter than he anticipated, and he ended up burning his hand. “Ouch! Ow-”

“Are you okay?” Donald asked, holding out a worried hand. 

“I’m fine, it just burned me a little.” Archimede told him, flicking his hand to try and cool it off. 

“Oh, the hot pads are right here.” Donald pulled open a drawer next to him, pulling a pad out and using it to pick up the mug. “Here you go!” 

“Thanks, Donald.” Archimede gave him a smile, and the duck waved a hand. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Donald assured him. “You’re headed downstairs? Want me to come?” 

“I would, but I’m going to talk to Mads, I don’t know how long that will take.” Archimede said. “I would hate for you to come down there and spend forever just waiting for me to get done.” 

Donald almost looked disappointed. “Oh, okay. I’ll… see you tomorrow then?” 

Archimede grinned. “Of course!” 

Donald beamed back. 

Archimede gingerly held the hot mug as he stepped into Mads’ room, the light was off and he had to navigate his way in the dark. Blacklight’s bulb flickered on as he approached, and they warily eyed Archimede.

“Mads?” Archimede said quietly, waiting for his eyes to fully adjust. 

There came a sudden scuffle, and Archimede could make out Mads jumping up into a sitting position. “A-Archie? What are you-” 

“I came to bring you some tea, Beakley says it might help you sleep.” The blond bird explained. 

Mads sounded startled. “Oh- but- you haven’t been down here-” 

“Beakley, Della, Fenton and I were all sitting in the den out there.” 

“Oh.” Mads paused, looking like he was thinking. “Well, I’m fine, it was just a nightmare. Thanks for the tea, good ni-” 

Archimede reached out to put a hand on Mads’ knee. “Are you okay?” 

Mads reached up, covering his beak and leaning his elbow on his knee as he stared out at nothing. His eyes were wide, his expression one of shock. “No,” he told Archimede quietly, the blond bird could just hear him around his hand. 

“Is there anything I can do?”

The Mad Ducktor didn’t move. “I-I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “I’ll be fine-” 

Archimede sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes now used to the dark as he reached up to brush a hand reassuringly through Mads’ hair. “What happened? Do you want to talk about it?” 

Mads shook his head. “I’ll be okay, you can go get some rest-” 

“Mads, I’ll be fine if I stay up for another hour or two.” Archimede moved over so he could sit against the headboard next to the Mad Ducktor.

“N-no, you don’t have to- I know you’re mad at me you really don’t have to sta-” 

Archimede cut him off by handing him the cup. “Here’s your tea. It might help, but even then it’s got honey so it’ll help your throat. You can have more if you need some.” 

Mads quietly accepted it, lifting it to his beak and blowing the steam off the top. “Thanks, Archie.” He said quietly. 

Archimede smiled as Mads leaned against him, his head resting on Archimede’s shoulder as he took a sip of his tea. 

They sat there in silence together as Mads finished his drink, Archimede took it from him when he was done and set it on the nightstand. Blacklight jumped across his lap to sit in Mads’. “Now are you good to talk about it?”

Mads sighed. “Every dream ends in Gyro killing me. Every time he comes up with a different way, but the ending is still the same. I always die by his hands. This time he pushed me off the Bin.” 

“Oh,” Archimede said, blinking. He hadn’t expected it to be that bad. “Sorry.” 

“Yeah,” Mads said, nuzzling closer to Archimede and closing his eyes. He yawned. “It’s fine. I know I’m okay, but to think I’ve died about five times every night…” 

“I would probably never sleep again if I thought that.” Archimede told him, only half joking. “It wouldn’t be worth it.” 

Mads chuckled. “Beakley said the basement’s soundproof, so at least I’m not waking everybody else up.” 

“Yeah, I had no idea it was this bad, I’m sorry.” Archimede told him, putting an arm around him. He was careful to keep his arm as far away from Mads’ injury as possible. “I would’ve come to help sooner-” 

“No,” Mads pulled away from him. “No, you’re not even supposed to be here right now. I don’t deserve it. You go spend time with everyone else, I’ll be fine.” 

“Mads-” 

“Nuh-uh. Go.” 

Mads moved further away as Blacklight scowled at Archimede, and blinked something like “You heard him, go.” 

“Mads, that’s not-” 

“No. You came to see everyone else, and to stop me. You don’t have to be here. I’ll be just fine, they’re only nightmares and I’ve dealt with worse before.” 

“Mads,” Archimede said sternly. “Do you really want me to leave?” 

Mads sighed, and stared out the open door. “If I say yes then will you leave me alone?” 

“Only if it’s the truth.” 

“Yes, I really want you to leave. I’m fine.” 

“Mmm -hmm. I spent nearly a year with Gyro after the Tokyolk incident, I know when you two are lying about your feelings.” 

Mads gasped, looking offended. “Me? Lie? Archie how dare you accuse me of-” 

Archimede laughed, rolling his eyes. “So that wasn’t the truth? Can I stay?”

The Mad Ducktor let out a huff. “I guess. I… don’t want to talk though.” 

“You don’t have to.” Archimede assured him. “Do you want to-” 

The blond bird broke off as Mads moved closer once more, snuggling against Archimede like he had been. Archimede grinned, putting an arm around him and pulling him even closer. 

Silence reigned for quite a while, long enough that Blacklight had sat back down and stopped suspiciously eyeing Archimede. The blond bird thought Mads had fallen asleep at one point, before the Mad Ducktor spoke. 

“What are you going to do with me once this is over?” His voice was quiet, barely a whisper against Archimede’s shoulder. He sounded half-asleep.

“Hm… I don’t know, Mads. Probably put you back in the Supercell.” Archimede chuckled, trying to make light of the situation. “Of course, you probably won’t be there for long.” 

“Great, another time-out. Just what I need.” Mads grumbled. 

Archimede sighed. “Well, everyone’s angry at you. I don’t know how much you or they would appreciate being around y- no wait, that sounds too harsh, I-”

“It’s fine, I know.” Mads yawned, and didn’t continue. When Archimede checked, the clone was fast asleep. 

It was the first time in days Mads was able to peacefully sleep through the night.

Chapter Text

The next morning Mads slept well into the day, and Beakley came to wake him up just past noon. They’d decided that as long as nothing too dangerous happened, Mads was strong enough to take them to his and Gyro’s hideout. 

“Oh, and you came to this decision of whether or not I was strong enough without me?” Mads asked as Beakley tried to help him find some real clothes. 

She glanced at him. “Well, are you strong enough?” 

Mads grinned. “I think so.”

In the end Archimede helped them find something special, and Mads met with everyone upstairs in the foyer. No one spoke directly to him, and all of them looked determined not to make eye contact with him. But Mads didn’t mind, he was fine with standing at the edge while they sorted themselves out. 

“Woah, where’d you get those?” 

Mads glanced up as Fenton walked over. “My clothes? Oh, aren’t they cool?” Mads grinned, holding out his arm to better show his attire off. He was still trying not to move his left arm. “Archie got them for me.” 

It was essentially Gyro’s clothes, but in Mads’ colors. The vest was black, the turtleneck pink, the bowtie green and the pants grey. Mads had loved it immediately, and had put it on as fast as he possibly could without aggravating his injury. He kept the sleeves unrolled, and they were thankfully long enough to cover the slowly growing bare patch on his left arm.

“Ah ah ah! No talking to the prisoner unless it’s absolutely necessary.” Della stepped between them. “Just because he’s temporarily out of the basement doesn’t mean you get to interact with him, remember?” 

“Oh hush up, Dels.” Mads rolled his eyes. “He was just asking me about my clothes.” 

Della whirled to face him. “That’s no excuse! And I told you not to-”

Mads smirked, his plan had worked. “Hey, you’re talking to the prisoner! That’s not allowed!” 

“I am exempt from the rules because I made them!” Della informed him, folding her arms. 

“Oh? I think that means you should just follow them more closely. You made rules to boss around everyone but yourself?” 

Her face turned a beautiful shade of red, and it only made Mads’ smile grow. But Della just shook her head and stormed away, her hands in fists. 

Mads watched her go. “Aw, but I was enjoying that conversation!” He said teasingly to no one in particular. He knew that’s why she’d left, because she knew he was having more fun messing with her than she wanted to let him. 

“So…” Fenton leaned close to Mads, his voice quiet. “Am I allowed to talk to you, or…”

“Do whatever you want, she can’t actually tell you what to do.” Mads pointed out. 

Only a few minutes later they all climbed on to Gizmoduck, and he flew them to the address Mads gave him. Mads refused to tell him until they were in the air, he was afraid that the Ducks might leave him behind after all if they knew where they were going before they left. 

“This is it?” The Blue Nephew asked, unimpressed as Mads walked up to the front door of the tiny house. “Where’s the evil lair? The crazy security? The drones that come out and we have to doge all of their lasers?” 

“Oh, those all activate when you step on that rock you’re about to touch, so I suggest you find somewhere else to place your foot.” Mads said, without turning around. 

“Wait, seriously?” The Blue Nephew said excitedly.

Pink Niece dragged him away. “Dewey, no!” 

Mads found the front door unlocked, and walked inside without checking if the others were following him. However he paused inside, and they all filed in and shut the door behind them. 

“This doesn’t seem like much of an evil lair…” The Blue Nephew said, looking around the house. 

“That’s because you didn’t touch that rock,” Mads told him, not meeting his gaze. “I told you it only activates when you touch it.” 

“Seriously?” Gizmoduck asked. 

Mads smirked. “No. We’re just not there ye-” 

“Is this blood on the walls?!” Donald asked, alarmed. 

“Yes, it’s likely mine. There’s much more where we’re headed, unless Gyro cleaned it up, which I doubt. Now let’s get going.” He led them to the back room, and gestured to the armoire. “There you go.” 

They all hesitated. 

“Mads… that’s an armoire.” Archimede said. 

“I’m aware,” Mads said, not moving. 

 Gizmoduck moved forward and opened it. “It’s still just an armoire on the inside, too.” 

Mads just yawned, wondering how long it would take to figure it out. He grinned at the thought of this just being an armoire, that he’d just led them to a random house and showed them an empty wardrobe.

Della stomped up to him. “What are you playing at? Because I swear, if you’re fooling us-”

“You’ll do what?” Mads asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I’ll shut and lock that bedroom door.” Della’s eyes narrowed. She clearly wasn’t messing around.

Beakley stepped forward. “Della, that’s not-” 

Mads rolled his eyes, and stepped past Gizmoduck and into the armoire. “If you idiots had actually checked,” he said, reaching up and pulling on the bar. “You may have seen that this bar isn’t put in right.”

With that the floor beneath him shifted, and he sunk into the ground.

It took Gizmoduck a few trips to carry everyone down into the lab (they couldn’t all fit through the armoire), and pretty soon all of them were standing in the middle of the lab, looking around in awe. 

Gyro had taken quite a lot of the equipment with him- including the racks of parts- but there was still a lot left. The Ducks split up, each one of them wandering to something that intrigued them to get a better look. 

“You have cameras on the mansion?” Della asked, looking at the monitors. 

“Yes, that’s the closest we could get them.” Mads said. “But there are more closer to the Bin.” 

“That’s not comforting,” Scrooge grumbled. 

Mads smiled. “Good!” 

“Do you know where he would’ve left any clue of where he’s going?” Archimede asked Mads. “Anything at all that might’ve helped?” 

Mads shook his head. “I can’t think of anything. Or where he would’ve gone. There might be something in the bedroom back there, or you could check the pantry for how much food he took with him. The lasso and the voice-modifying choker should be in the bedroom’s bathroom’s bottom drawer, you could see if he took that with him too.” 

They immediately split off, Gizmoduck and Archimede heading for the bedroom while Della checked the pantry. “Um… there’s only muffins in here.” She said. “And a lot of them.” 

“Which means he’s likely planning on buying or stealing his own food… Hey, Gizzy, have there been any store robberies lately?” Mads made his way back to the bedroom to look for Gizmoduck.

“None that have been reported,” Gizmoduck replied, looking around the dark room. “But that might not mean anything, if he has the same methods you do. He could be doing it without anyone noticing.”

Archimede stepped out of the bathroom with the lasso and the choker. “They’re still here,” he said. “What does that mean?” 

Mads shrugged. “That he isn’t going to disguise himself, or he has enough parts to build new ones. Which might take longer than he’d want to spend on them. I don’t know why he’d leave them, except if he were in a big hurry.” 

“What about trackers?” Gizmoduck asked. “Do you still have any on him?”

“No, you made me take them out after we found he was still alive.” Mads rolled his eyes, as if the reason one would make him do so was ridiculous. “I don’t have trackers on anything he might’ve taken either.”

“So this is just for nothing?” The Green Nephew asked, poking his head into the room. “We followed a mad scientist to his boring half-empty evil lair for nothing? Laaaaaame.” 

“I never said you should go here, just that I wanted to come if you did.” Mads pointed out. 

“We still haven’t searched this room, you said there might be something here?” Gizmoduck looked at Mads. 

“Maybe. It’d likely be best to closely search the whole lab, but there’s a higher chance of him leaving it in here, where he had easy access to it.” Mads frowned. “Besides, if he’d been planning for a while to kill me, it may have been a backup plan that he checked often.”

Gizmoduck and Archimede quickly got to searching, while the Green Nephew muttered something about helping someone else with something and left. 

Archimede was looking through the drawers of the nightstand near the bed, and gasped loudly when he got to the bottom one. “Oh gods-”

“What is it?” Mads asked, jumping onto the bed and leaning over the other side to look. He winced slightly, the action hadn’t been a good idea as a jolt of pain ran through his arm and he hissed. 

Archimede looked up at him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just my arm hurts. What is it?” 

“Do we need to go back?”

“It’s fine-”

“Is that a knife?!” 

Gizmoduck was leaning over both of them, peering at the object Archimede had found in the bottom drawer. 

It was a very nice knife, buffed and polished to perfection, but still covered in blood. The blood was clearly old and caked to the blade and handle, but it’d still been enough to make Archimede gasp.

“The one he got me with,” Mads said, inspecting it. “He clearly left it here on purpose, he knew we’d be coming back.” 

Archimede winced. “That blade looks sharp.”

“Trust me, it is.” Mads picked it up, looking it over before setting it on the nightstand. “Well, if he knew we were here, it’s likely he left some sort of trap for us as well-”

“What?!” Archimede and Gizmoduck exclaimed. “You didn’t think to think of that?” 

“You didn’t either!” Mads pointed out. “And besides, it probably would’ve gone off by now, we’ve been here for a while. And we’ve got Gizmoduck here to protect us!” 

Gizmoduck backed away. “I’m going to go check on the Ducks out there, hold on.” As he left the room, Della stepped inside. 

“What are you doing?” She asked, walking over. Her question was entirely directed at Archimede, she didn’t acknowledge Mads at all in her body language.

“Searching the room,” Mads replied. He held up the knife. “Look what we found! It’s the one he stabbed me with!”

Della wrinkled her beak. “Ick, I don’t know if that’s something to be excited about.” 

“It’s not, but now I have something to throw at yo-”

“Okay, your knife privileges are revoked.” Archimede reached up and plucked the weapon from Mads’ hand. The blond bird stood. “Come on, we need to get back to searching.” 

“What else is in that drawer?” Della asked, crouching down next to it. She picked up a forgotten piece of paper at the bottom and unfolded it, reading aloud. “‘Dear Clone Eleven’, what-”

Mads snatched it from her hands faster than he thought possible, and managed to scramble up on the other side of the bed. That was definitely too much movement, but his fear outweighed his pain. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” 

Della frowned. “Hey! It certainly doesn’t seem like nothing.” 

“It’s nothing.” 

Della looked at Archimede. “Archimede, make him show it to us.” 

Mads stuck his tongue out at her. “It’s nothing.” This was the one thing Mads refused to let them get their hands on. One of the last shreds of dignity he had prohibited it.

Archimede sighed. “Mads-”

“Fine! It’s a letter. That’s it. You don’t need to know what it says.” 

“To ‘Clone Eleven’?” Della asked. “Who on Earth is that?” 

“He’s dead.” Mads growled. “It doesn’t. Matter.” With that he stormed out of the room, trying his hardest not to let the pain in his arm show.

Beakley raised an eyebrow as he walked into the lab. “Is your arm hurting?” 

Mads just growled at her, before stomping over to the corner and sitting cross-legged against the wall. He stared down at the folded piece of paper in his hand, trying to master his emotions. 

That had been close. 

Della of all people seeing this would’ve been catastrophic. She was one of the main people Mads needed to hide this from, and she’d held it. While he couldn’t imagine her reaction, he knew he couldn’t live with it. 

Besides, while he’d appreciated what he’d been able to let go of with this letter, he still didn’t like the object itself. It was too easily discovered by others, as Della proved, and Mads hadn’t been able to bring himself to read it since he’d written it. It was too painfully vulnerable. 

“Ooooh, what’s that!” 

Mads jumped with a squawk, flailing and almost hitting his head against the wall. The Pink Niece stood next to him, and she jumped at his reaction. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you-” 

“You didn’t scare me, you just startled me. “ Mads said through gritted teeth as he tried to manage the pain in his arm. Moving like that definitely hadn’t helped. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to know what that paper is!” 

“Nothing.” 

“...It doesn’t look like nothing.”

Mads glared up at her in a way that would've had most people gulping in fear, but she just looked at him expectantly with a faint smile on her beak. Finally he sighed. “It’s a letter.” 

“To who?”

“That… doesn’t matter. It’s something I wrote to try and help me move past being a clone.” 

“Oh!” Pink Niece exclaimed, thinking. “Did it help?” 

“Yes,” Mads admitted. “It did. But I don’t like the letter now, I think I’m going to burn it.” 

“Don’t do that! That’s too extreme-”

“In a releasing way, not in an ‘I hate it way’,” Mads deadpanned, frowning.

“Oh. That works! Granny and I have done that a few times with things we wanted to let go of. But um…” She bounced anxiously on her toes. “Do you think I could write one, if it helped you out? Who’d you write it to? What’s it say?”

Mads glanced out at the room around him, then shook his head. “I’ll tell you later.” There were too many people around.

“Oh… okay.” The Pink Niece looked disappointed. “Are you sure? Granny won’t let me-”

“I’ll figure out a way. Now go help Archimede search that room, they’re trying to find anything Gyro would’ve left behind.” Mads nodded at the door.

“Okay!” The Pink Niece dashed off, and Mads watched her go with a strangely sinking heart. It was odd, but he’d found that he liked her company. She was a nuisance, but a welcome one.

Mads sat in the corner, temple against the wall for most of the visit, while everyone else rushed around him, looking for clues. The best they found was a map of Duckburg with an area circled, but none of them knew what it was for and it was too big of an area to be actually beneficial. 

As Gizmoduck left the bedroom for the last time- they’d completely ransacked it- he handed Mads something. “We found this under the bed, I thought you would need it.” 

Mads took the familiar strip of cloth, Fenton’s concern enough to slightly lift his foul mood. It was the ‘arm sock’ Gyro had got him for Christmas, something to help Mads stop plucking at the feathers on his arm. “Oh, thanks, Gizzy. I needed this.” 

Gizmoduck frowned. “Has it been bad?” 

“As bad as can be expected,” Mads shrugged. “I have a drawer a third of the way full of feathers back in the basement of the mansion.”

“Oh… well, I hope this helps.” Gizmoduck offered him a smile, and Mads nodded.

“Me too.” 

They left not long after, taking the map with the circled area and Mads’ lasso and choker. The sky was covered in a depressingly grey layer of clouds, which Mads didn’t mind. It reflected his mood.

When they got back to the mansion Archimede escorted Mads down to the basement, saying he’d come back down with food in a minute. Mads just shrugged, he surprisingly wasn’t all that hungry.

As soon as Archimede left Mads sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning close to Blacklight. He pulled the note from the inside pocket of the vest and gave it to the little robot. “Guard this,” he told them quietly. “I don’t want anyone else reading it, do you understand?” 

Blacklight nodded, then saluted. “Am I allowed to read it?” 

“Go ahead,” Mads said, turning away from them to lay on his side. He was tired, and his arm hurt. “Just don’t talk to me about it.”

He sighed, staring at the wall as there came the sound of shifting paper behind him. He hadn’t truly thought about the letter in a while, and even though he’d known it was in the drawer, it’d been shocking to find it so suddenly. He also disliked that there’d been so much tension around it. No one should’ve seen it.

After a few minutes there came the sound of Blacklight folding it back up, and they jumped up onto Mads’ arm then scrambled down on the other side to rest reassuringly against Mads’ chest. 

Mads grinned. By the time Archimede came in with the food, the Mad Ducktor was already asleep.

“Idiots.” Gyro growled. “A bunch of idiots. They all have better things to do than dress up and stand around talking to people who don’t care about them or what they’re doing.” 

Mads laughed, leaning against the counter behind him as he looked out at the party around them. “And they’re not even wearing anything exceptional! I swear I’m going to cry if I see another plain black suit.”

Gyro chuckled, leaning over to kiss Mads’ forehead as he handed him a drink. “Got you this. Hopefully we won’t have to stay for long, maybe you can hold off the tears just long enough.”

Mads laughed again, taking it. “Maybe. The dresses are fine, they at least have color. But there’s still nothing wild here.”

“Hm, but I think if you’re expecting anyone to go around in purple tailcoats and heels you’ve got too high of standards for society.” Gyro smirked at him. 

“Why is that too much to ask?!” Mads demanded, only half joking. “Clearly none of them see my vision.” 

“Your vision looks a lot like the Joker.” Gyro pointed out, and Mads rolled his eyes as he took a swig of his drink. 

“Tell him to get on my level. I have platform heels. And I can do my makeup right.”

That earned a real laugh from Gyro, and Mads grinned as he took another drink. It felt strange going down, and a moment later Mads felt a little woozy. “On second thought, this coat might be too tight.” 

“No, it fits.” Gyro said, staring out at the crowd around them. “If you’re feeling light-headed, it’s likely from the poison in your drink.” 

“The what?!” Mads exclaimed, dropping his glass. It shattered on contact with the floor, shards of glass spreading everywhere. But Mads didn’t care, it was getting too hard to stand up straight already. “What did you do?” 

Gyro gave him a side glance, grinning darkly. “I’m just here to kill off a certain useless clone, I know you’ll understand.” 

Oh no. This was yet another nightmare. Once again, Mads had let himself be fooled by the dream of something he knew he’d never get. He stumbled, bile rising in his throat as he landed against Gyro, who took a disgusted step back. “Get off of me,” he snarled. 

Mads took a deep breath and swallowed, trying in vain to right the world around him. He glared up at Gyro. “Why do you keep doing this?!”

“In reality, I can’t kill you. Not yet at least.” Gyro smirked at him. “So why not make you live through that pain every day until it becomes real?” 

“Because-” Mads gasped at the pain in his stomach, and sank halfway to the ground. “Just- just leave me alone!” With one last act of desperation, Mads lunged at Gyro. He didn’t know what that would accomplish, but he needed a way to fight back.

But surprisingly, Mads went right through Gyro.

He ducked through him in a second, and came out on the other side in a completely different world.

His nausea and pain were gone in an instant, and he was floating in an inky black abyss. It felt like he was deep underwater, and when he exhaled a plume of barely-visible bubbles escaped his mouth. He watched them go up and up and out of sight. Strangely, Mads could still breathe.

It was also completely soundless. No noise made its way through the dark waters around him.

Or did it? As Mads got used to the sudden silence, he slowly came aware of an extremely faint noise coming from beneath him. 

Sobbing.

Curiously, and having nothing else to do here, Mads turned and began swimming downwards, but it was like swimming through syrup. The liquid around him was very viscous, and it wasn’t long before he was exhausted. 

But he kept going. Soon the sound got louder, and the dark water around him began to lighten from beneath him. 

Suddenly he somehow broke through the bottom of the water, and was immediately falling. He screeched in surprise as he free-fell, flailing his arms in a desperate attempt to stop himself. The world grew brighter as he plummeted, and he landed hard on his side. 

Now he was lying in an empty white space, the crying much louder. Mads shakily stood, looking around. 

Huddled a few yards away from him was a figure on its knees, head in its hands as its body shook with sobs. 

“Gyro?” Mads asked, confused. He walked towards the shaking chicken. 

“G-go away,” Gyro sniffed, curling further in on himself as Mads approached. “This is all your fault.” The inventor’s hair and clothes were back to normal, he was missing his hat, glasses and vest, and looked utterly broken as he curled in on himself.

“I don’t know how to go away,” Mads muttered truthfully, before sitting down next to his original. “...Are you okay? What is this place?” 

“No, I’m not okay.” Gyro growled, his broken voice a little sharper than before. He still had his head in his hands, Mads couldn’t see his face. “It’s your fault this has all happened. This is where I’ve been stuck since you betrayed me.” 

“Wait, so I’m actually talking to you?” Mads asked, surprised. “This isn’t a dream?” 

“I don’t know,” Gyro said quietly. “I don’t know what’s happening anymore. I sometimes get flashes, but-” he broke off with another choked sob. “It’s all too much. I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.” 

“I’m sorry, darling.” Mads said softly, putting a hand on his back. 

“Don’t touch me,” Gyro hissed, pulling away. Mads retracted his hand immediately. “You don’t get to comfort me after what you’ve done.” 

Mads knew he was right, and took a deep breath. “Well, if it makes you feel better, no one’s seriously hurt. We’ve all managed to mostly stay away from you.”

“That’s not me up there.” Gyro grumbled. 

“S-sorry.” Mads said, rethinking his sentence. “We’ve all managed to stay away from the ego machine you.” 

“Boyd and Fenton are okay? And the Ducks? They’re all fine?” Gyro finally looked up at him. His red-rimmed eyes were their normal green, and wide in fear and hurt.

“Yes,” Mads nodded. “And Archimede.” 

“Archimede’s here?” Gyro held a hand to his beak. “No no no no… he needs to get away from me while he still can.” 

“Yeah, Fenton called him and he came to help. Why don’t you want him here?” 

Gyro shook his head. “Ego machine me has something against him.” Gyro said, staring off at nothing. “I don’t know much, but I do know that. Archimede’s in trouble.”

Mads decided not to tell him that ego machine Gyro had already tried to kill Archimede. He blinked, trying to think of a way to console Gyro.

However, when Mads opened his eyes, he was staring at the dark wall of the basement bedroom, lying on his side with Blacklight tucked against his chest. 

He’d woken up.

Mads let out a breath, squeezing his eyes shut and shifting slightly. Blacklight subsequently moved closer to him, before they blinked their eyes open as well. “Are you alright?” They flashed as dimly as they could in the dark room. 

“No,” Mads whispered. “What time is it?” 

“10:43.” Blacklight told him. “Have you eaten today?” 

Now that Mads thought of it, he was hungry. Correction, he was starving. He’d give about anything for a muffin just then. “Do you think anyone will notice if I sneak upstairs for some food right now?” 

“I do not think so.” Blacklight confirmed, sitting up. “But if you are caught upstairs at this hour…” 

“...Everyone will think I’m sneaking around trying to kill them.” Mads sighed. “But I don’t want to wake anyone up, I don’t want to talk to them.”

“You are talking to me,” The lightbulb confirmed. 

“Yes, but you’re different.” Mads told them, pulling himself into a sitting position. Blacklight jumped into his lap. “Let’s just go up there and see what happens. What did you do with that paper I gave you?”

“It is in the top drawer, under your pile of feathers.” Blacklight told him as Mads stood. “Which is turning into a problem, have you-”

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” Mads told them, leaving the room with the lightbulb on his shoulder. “While we were there we found that little arm sock that Gyro gave me, it should help.”

“I hope so.” Blacklight blinked. 

Beakley was on shift tonight, but Mads easily and silently crept past her as she slept on the couch. He made it upstairs without being noticed, and groped his way in the dark to the kitchen.

Flicking on one of the softer lights Mads helped himself to a muffin, and curled up in the breakfast nook with his head against the freezing window. The house was already asleep, and he sighed as he looked up at the stars. 

“Am I allowed to talk about the letter now?” Blacklight flashed, standing on the table.

“What do you want to talk about with it?” Mads asked, still not looking away from the stars outside.

“When did you write it? Why have I not heard of it? Are you okay?”

Mads snorted at the last one. “I’m fine. I wrote it a day or two after I last got out of the Supercell, and I didn’t want to talk about it then either.” 

“How did it-”

“Mad Ducktor?”

Mads jumped, looking up to see a half-asleep Pink Niece standing in the kitchen doorway, her hair ruffled and her eyes squinting in the light. “What are you doing up here? Where’s Granny?”

“She’s asleep downstairs,” Mads told her quietly. “What do you want?”

“Oh, just some water. I got dehydrated.” She stepped easily into the kitchen, walking through as if Mads visited like this every day. “I have some friends over for a sleepover, my throat hurts from talking. We weren’t going to do one after… everything, but we’ve had this one planned for months so we just had to!” 

“Hm.” Mads grumbled, leaning his head back against the window.

“I think I have time for you to tell me about that letter though!” She said with her never-ending enthusiasm as she filled a glass with water. 

Mads didn’t look up at her, thinking about what Beakley had said. If he just stayed away from Webby, then maybe he’d be allowed out of the basement every now and then. Beakley hadn’t asked him to do anything difficult, and it wouldn’t be hard to follow what she’d said. “I don’t know, kid…” 

“Come on!” She said, walking to the breakfast nook with her cup. “At least tell me who it was to?” 

“Someone who’s dead.” Mads said, still looking up at the sky. “Look, you should stay away from me.” 

“Why?” Pink Niece tilted her head curiously. “You can’t hurt any of us now, why can’t I ask you about this while I can? I need your help!”

Lying to a child had almost never seemed harder. “Because I don’t want you to.”

“But… but I thought we were going to talk more about this.” Mads still couldn’t bring himself to look at her as he sensed her smile disappear. “We were going to, right? I-I need your help, why-”

“Because I don’t want to.” Mads said harshly, finally looking over at her. “You’ve been a nuisance, bothering me nonstop about all of this. Your grandmother has already told you to leave me alone, why can’t you respect that?” 

“Wait…” Pink Niece backed up, still holding her glass of water. “Did you tell her to tell me to leave you alone?” 

“Yes! Of course!” Mads lied. “Why do I think I want you around? You talk nonstop, and you’ve got the highest, most annoying voice I’ve ever heard. Headache-inducing, almost. I only talked to you earlier in hopes that you’d get what you wanted and go away!” 

Pink Niece blinked, and Mads prayed that she wasn’t about to cry. “No… no I thought you were on my side! I thought you got it!” 

Mads snorted, shaking his head. “So what if I do? That doesn’t mean I want to talk to you. I’ve already told you I didn’t want to talk about clone stuff, and you still brought it up!” 

“But… you said it was just hard to talk about, and that having someone who got it-”

Mads rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, because I’m always truthful. Now stop bringing it up, and leave me alone.” He turned back to the view out of the window. 

Pink Niece swallowed. “I- You- We- But we have to stick together, right? We’re both clones! We can understand each other-” 

The Mad Ducktor barked a high, short laugh. “Ha! I’ve already told you kid, you’ve got it much better than I do. You’ve already grown up as your own person, suck it up and stop whining about it.”

Pink Niece stared at him for a few more seconds, 

Before turning on her heel and running out of the kitchen. Mads could hear her crying getting quieter as she ran down the hall.

“...That was harsh.” Blacklight blinked, still watching the kitchen door. “Even by my standards.”

“You heard Beakley, right?” Mads muttered. “If she stays away from me then I’ll be let out of the basement. It’s either her or sunlight.” 

Blacklight didn’t argue, but they didn’t need to. Mads was already being hard enough on himself.

“Sorry, kid.” Mads whispered, as he rested his head against the window once more. The stars that could be glimpsed between the clouds seemed especially bright tonight.

Chapter Text

“What did you say to her?!” 

Mads woke to a loud banging noise, and the sound of a very angry Mrs. Beakley barging into the room. He jumped up with a squawk, feathers on end, utterly disoriented. “W-what- whatever it is I didn’t do it-” 

“Webbigail.” Beakley marched across the room, looming over her. “What. Did. You. Say. To. Her?” 

“I- what?” Mads’ brain was still half awake, grasping at straws trying to piece together what Beakley was saying in the first place. “What?”

“Webby has been upset all morning, and the only thing I know about it is that you talked to her last night. I’m going to ask you one more time, what did you say to her?!” 

Mads rubbed one eye, reaching for his glasses on the nightstand. “I- oh. I just told her to leave me alone, because you said-”

“No. She wouldn’t have spent the day moping in her room if you told her to leave you alone.” Beakley growled. “Tell me what the hell happened, now.” 

Mads sighed, and Blacklight jumped up onto his head, glaring up at Beakley. “Fine. I… told her that I didn’t want to help her, and that she was annoying and didn’t have it as bad as I did.” 

“Have what as bad as you did?” Beakley asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Clone insecurities, obviously.” Mads looked down at his hand, picking at the hem of the blanket. “Which… isn’t true I guess, but she did grow up thinking she was her own person which is better than having to prove your existence is different from your original’s  from day one.”

Beakley sighed. “I told you to stay away from her, not hurt her feelings and invalidate her! What am I supposed to do with her now? I don’t know enough about this stuff!” 

“What was I supposed to do, ignore her? This way she’ll stay away from me for good, like you wanted!” Mads pointed out. “And ask Archimede about that, he seems to be the fount of infinite wisdom when it comes to this.” 

Beakley straightened up, thinking hard. “It doesn’t matter what Archimede tells her, she still thinks you don’t like her. The one person who she thinks can actually help her with this.”

Mads tried to put together what she was saying. “…So you’ll let me talk to her?”

Beakley sighed, scowling down at him in frustration. “I don’t know if she wants to talk to you right now, but yes, I suppose right now all I can do is let you two talk. Only if you apologize.”

Apologizing was inevitable, but Mads wasn’t looking for it. “Fine. Are you sending her down here, or-” 

“No, you’ve been invited to breakfast.” Beakley told him. “That’s part of why I came down here. And as long as you have someone who’s willing to follow you around all day, then you’re allowed upstairs.” 

“Oh. I’m grateful.” Mads sat up more, Blacklight holding on to his hair for support as Mads moved. 

“You should be, it took quite a lot of convincing.” Beakley sent him a dark side glance as she turned to leave the room. “Convincing that I think by now you don’t deserve.” 

Mads scrambled off the bed, following behind her. “I know I don’t.” He said in a matter-of-fact tone. “But thank you, again.”

They ate in the dining room, Mads silently picked at his food while he listened to the others’ conversations. Blacklight peered out at all of them mistrustingly from Mads’ hair the entire time, watching their every movement. They seemed more on edge than Mads was. 

Webby talked and ate with the other kids, and she completely ignored Mads. Which was fine by him, he just wished she would stop staring downcast at her plate every now and then. That, and she barely touched her food. He didn’t need to feel even more guilty than he already did. 

Towards the end of the meal Scrooge tapped his spoon against his glass, and the table immediately fell silent. “Well. Ye all know that so far any efforts ta track down Gyro have been in vain. Which leaves us with two options. We can either wait for him to show himself- which will likely be in an attack- or we find a way ta lure him to us and trap him.” 

“How are we going to do that?” Red Nephew asked.

“So far, muffins have proven to be a successful bait.” Beakley pointed out. “We could get a lot of those.”

Mads had no idea if he were allowed to talk or not, so he stayed quiet. However Blacklight jumped down onto the table, looking up at Mads. “But… Gyro did not seem to love muffins all that much.” 

The Mad Ducktor held a finger to his beak to shush them, but Archimede looked over. “Wait, Blacklight’s saying something.”

Mads sighed. “They were just pointing out that during the time we spent with Gyro, he didn’t seem all that partial to muffins.” 

“An’ ye weren’t gonna tell us this?” Scrooge asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“I didn’t know if I was allowed to talk!” Mads pointed out.

Scrooge exhaled in frustration. “Ye can talk if it’s beneficial to the conversation. So Gyro doesn’t like muffins?”

“I don’t think so.” Mads said, picking Blacklight up and putting them back on his head. “But I’m not sure. He ate them since that made up most of the food we had, but he never appeared to love them.”

“So muffins won’t work.” Huey thought. “What else does he want?” 

“Scrooge?” Mads suggested. 

“Yes? Wait-” the old duck blinked. “Ye mean use me as bait? But we already have a plan!”

Mads nodded. “One that doesn’t work.”

Della glared at him. “If this is just some attempt to get Scrooge killed-” 

“No, well yes, I just also think that-”

“Ha! So you admit it! Well we’re not-”

“No listen, Gyro still said-”

“QUIET.” Beakley said loudly, and both Mads and Della fell silent. “Let him talk, Della.”

Mads glared at Della for a second, before continuing. “When Gyro turned on me, it sounded like he still wanted to go after Scrooge, which means that part of his plan was real. So if we give him an opportunity to get to Scrooge, I think he’d take it.” 

“What if he realizes it’s a trap?” Fenton asked. 

“What’s the worst that could happen if he did?” Mads countered.

“It’s an idea that might work.” Beakley acknowledged. “Let’s just try to think of something else before we start with putting Scrooge in danger.” 

By the end of breakfast they’d come up with nearly nothing else, so they were all tasked with coming up with something by the end of the day and sharing it at dinner. With that they disbanded, and Mads followed Archimede to the kitchen. 

“Heeeyyyy Archie?” Mads asked, watching and standing a few feet back as Archimede started on the dishes. 

“Hm?” The blond bird didn’t look up. 

“I’m allowed upstairs today, but only if I have someone to watch me.” Mads walked up next to him. “Can I follow you around today so I don’t have to go back to the basement?” 

“Oh really? Sure!” Archimede hesitated. “...Only if you help me with these dishes.”

Mads groaned. “But I only have one hand!” 

“Can you use your other arm?” 

“A little.” It still hurt.

“Then you can help. Come on, here’s an extra scrubber.”

Beakley walked in a few minutes later, with a stack of even more dishes from breakfast. “Mad Ducktor-” 

“Archie’s watching me,” Mads told her, looking up. 

Beakley raised an eyebrow. “Alright… Do you two want any help with dishes?” 

“Yes,” Mads said. 

Archimede spoke over him, elbowing him. “No, we’re good!” 

She shook her head. “There’s another stack from the dining room, I’ll bring that in and then I think that’s everything. Oh and Archimede, one of the terms of agreement is that the Mad Ducktor isn’t allowed outside.” 

Archimede nodded. 

Mads whipped around to look at Archimede as Beakley left the kitchen. “No going outside?” He repeated. “But I want to! And it’s cloudy outside!” 

Archimede shrugged. “I didn’t come up with the rules. What does being cloudy have to do with anything?” 

“It might rain,” Mads explained. 

“...And?” 

 “I like the rain.” Mads muttered. “Do you think you can convince Beakley to let me out?” 

“You’ll have to convince Della,” Beakley said as she stepped back in with another stack of dirty plates. “She’s the one who came up with that, you’ll have to go through her to change it.” 

Mads stuck his tongue out, obviously opposed to the idea. “I’m not talking to her.” 

“Then I guess you’re staying inside.” 

Mads accepted his fate with a grumble, turning back to the now huge pile of dirty dishes they had yet to wash.

Thankfully a few minutes later Mads was saved from doing dishes for the next thirty minutes when he glanced back and saw the Pink Niece walk past the kitchen. “I have to go talk to Pink Niece, I’ll be right back.” He told Archimede before dashing away. 

Archimede looked back. “Mads what-” 

But Mads ignored him, stepping out into the hall just in time to call out to the duckling before she walked away. “Hey, Pink Niece!”

Pink Niece paused, not looking back. “My name’s Webby.” She grumbled. 

“Sure. Um… I wanted to talk to you?”

The duckling sighed, glancing back at him. “I’m sure Granny wants you to apologize, so just save it. I know you’re only doing it because she told you, so I don’t want to hear it.” She moved to turn the corner. 

“Wait- no. I… I wanted to apologize. Whether or not your grandmother had anything to do with it.” 

Pink Niece looked at him, confused. “So she did tell you to apologize?” 

“Well yes, she did, but I still wanted to apologize on my own.” Mads said. 

The ducking snorted. “Yeah, right.” 

“I’m serious! Look, I-” he let out a breath, trying to think of where to start. “I don’t dislike you. Or your voice, or… whatever else I said I didn’t like last night. Beakley told me a while ago that I would be allowed upstairs if I stayed away from you, so I only said it to get you to leave so I wouldn’t have to stay in the basement.”

“You could’ve just told me that!” Pink Niece pointed out angrily. She hesitated, looking hopeful. “...So you didn’t mean it?” 

“No. I didn’t. And…” he winced. “I feel bad about it…?”

“Did you mean any of it?” 

Mads shook his head. 

“Even the part about me having it better than you and that you think I should just suck it up?” 

Mads winced again. “That was definitely too far of me.”

“And that you still think it’s hard to talk about, but having someone who gets it makes you feel better?”

“Of course. I’ll admit it’s weird to have someone who fully understands it because no one did for a while, but it’s nice to hear you talk about it because you’re not afraid to say what I’ve spent so long keeping in.” That was definitely oversharing, and Mads quickly moved on. “A-anyway, I can tell you more about that letter after I’m done helping Archimede with the dishes. If you want to?” 

“Yes!” Pink Niece gave the first real smile Mads had seen on her that morning. 

Mads offered her a small smile in return, before glancing back at the kitchen. “I have to go, but… yeah, sorry.” 

“I get it, Mad Ducktor. See you in a minute!” She then turned the corner, leaving Mads to walk back over to the sink next to Archimede.

“I did all of the utensils, that stack of plates is for you.” Archimede told him. 

Mads silently nodded, lifting one and setting it in the sink before propping it against the end of his left arm, holding it up that way while he scrubbed at it with his right hand. 

“What was that about?” Archimede asked, rinsing out a bowl.

“I said some things to the Pink Niece last night that were rude.” Mads told him. “And I didn’t mean them. So I thought I should apologize to her.” 

“You apologized?!” Archimede asked, surprised. 

“Well, Beakley told me to, but I still meant it.” Mads instinctively clarified. “I was going to talk more with Pink Niece later about the things she’s been asking me about.”

Archimede nudged him with a smile. “I’m proud of you.” 

Mads just shook his head, trying to hide his blush and his smile. 

The dishes took another ten minutes, and only a few minutes later Archimede, Mads and the Pink Niece met in the TV room. Mads sent Blacklight down to get the letter, and they returned only a minute later. Mads wasn’t going to let Pink Niece actually read it- it was too personal- but he could use it as a reference.

“So who is it to?” Pink Niece asked, sitting on the floor next to the coffee table. Mads and Archimede sat on the couch across from her.

“I wrote it to my past self.” Mads told her, not meeting her gaze as he fiddled with the paper in his hand. 

“Oh really? How far back?” The duckling sat forward, looking excited. Mads could feel that she knew she was finally going to get some real answers. 

“Just clone me, right after the Moonvasion.” Mads swallowed. “While it was to get over what’s happened, part of it was to let go of the clone part of me.” 

“Oh. So I need to separate myself from who I was before I found out I was a clone?” 

Mads shook his head. “I don’t think so. Because you’ve always been you, right?”

Pink Niece nodded. “Right. I’ve always been Webby.”

Webby. Mads needed to do better at remembering that. “But what do you think you would want to tell yourself before you found out? To save your time now worrying about it?”

The duckling thought. “Well, just that something big is coming, and that no matter what I can just keep on being who I was, instead of trying to change so that I’m not so much like Uncle Scro-” She broke off. “That’s good advice, actually.”

“Boom. You figured it out.” Mads sat back, gingerly resting his back against the couch. It was just soft enough that it didn’t hurt, but he didn’t want to put his full weight back just yet.

“Wait, that’s it?” Pink Niece looked surprised. 

“Isn’t it?” Mads asked. “What else do you need help with that wouldn’t fix it?”

“I don’t know…” Pink Niece looked down at the coffee table. “Sometimes I wonder if everyone around me looks at me and sees how much I love adventure and excitement and family and just think I’m Scrooge. Which I’m seeing more and more now that I’m not, so if they are seeing me that way…”

Mads blinked. “That’s… what I deal with every day.” 

“So it doesn’t get better?” Pink Niece looked up at him, her eyes wide. “Because what if when I ask them they’re all just lying to me to make me feel better? I appreciate it, but I want them to know I’m Webby.”

“I can ask them!” Archimede volunteered. “But I will say Webby, I don’t think any of them think you’re just a mini Scrooge. I certainly don’t, and obviously Mads doesn’t if he’s still here. Your grandmother told me herself that she doesn’t, and I haven’t seen Huey Dewey and Louie treat you differently since you found out.” 

“What do you mean, I obviously don’t think so if I’m still here?” Mads asked, looking at him. 

“If you did think she was just Scrooge, wouldn’t that make you hate her more if she were just a little version of him?” Archimede pointed out. “No offense, Webby.” 

“None taken!” She said cheerily. But Mads noticed she watched the Mad Ducktor a little suspiciously after that. 

“I hadn’t thought of that…” Mads trailed off, thinking. He hated the Ducks and had hated interacting with them here- other than Beakley, she’d been alright- but it was Scrooge who was the most insufferable. There were little things that Mads picked up on now that he hadn’t noticed about the old duck before. The way he acted like he was in charge of all of them, the way he would make plans and assume everyone would go along with them, and even the way he carried himself with that stupid cane and top hat like “oh look at me I’m so smart and brave and rich.” Mads didn’t like talking directly to him, and he preferred avoiding him if the two had to be in the same house together.

But Mads didn’t feel any of that from Webby. Yes, she was smart and brave, but nothing in her seemed to boast that. She just was, and everyone knew without her posture or speech making it obvious. Her loud excitement was already growing on Mads, and Mads would’ve said she was already next to Beakley among the people in the Duck family he disliked the least. 

Webby nervously tapped her pointer fingers together. “B-but I will say that discovering I’m a clone of Scrooge made me question everything I thought I knew about being a girl.”

“Ohhhhhhh I hadn’t thought of that.” Archimede said.

“And what’d you figure out?” Mads asked, a faint smile on his beak.

“Well, even if I’ve thought about it a lot I haven’t had long to think about it, but I think I’m a girl. And that I like it! And I like my name- even April feels weird for some reason- and I like my body and I like the clothes I wear and just me. As I am.”

Mads’ smile grew. “Cool. I hope you can keep liking you, even if anything changes.”

Pink Niece nodded, grinning. “Thanks.” 

Mads suddenly realized he was smiling sappily, and he quickly mastered his emotions and his expression. He was happy that Pink Niece had let herself question it, and let herself accept that she was a girl without feeling like she’d wasted time thinking about it. “Oh, and even if you discover something different, don’t let it make you feel like you’re just turning into Scrooge, okay?”

Pink Niece’s smile got bigger. “Okay, I won’t.”

Mads cleared his throat. “Anyway, is there anything else you need help with?” 

“O-oh yeah, Archimede said that Granny thought I was still me? What’d she say?”

“Oh, it was while you were out doing your crossbow training a few days ago, she said she never would’ve guessed you were a clone of Scrooge’s,” Archimede told her. “Apparently Scrooge was terrible with crossbows at first, and that you were a natural, even when you first started.”

Pink Niece giggled. “I’ve never heard that! Now I have to ask Scrooge about his first time using a crossbow!” 

Mads raised an eyebrow. “Do you think you’ll ‘grow into’ being terrible at it?”

This time she really laughed, and Archimede rolled his eyes. 

—

“H-hey, papa?”

Fenton looked up as breakfast adjourned, Boyd was standing right next to his chair, looking nervous. He was fiddling with his hands and feet, and he was already stammering. “What is it, Boyd?”

Boyd looked over at where the Mad Ducktor was leaving the dining room, right behind Archimede. “I-I don’t l-like that he’s out of the b-basement.” The little parrot whispered. 

“Really?” Fenton moved his chair out a little so he could better face Boyd. “Why not?” 

“I-I don’t t-trust him.” Boyd confessed quietly. “E-especially after w-what he did t-to Dad. W-what if he d-does that to one of u-us? Or h-h-hurts us? W-we don’t know a-anymore that he w-won’t!” 

“He has to have someone watching him all the time today while he’s out,” Fenton assured him. “And he isn’t allowed to have anything mechanical. Without that, he can’t do much.” 

“Y-yeah, but he’s still smart.” The parrot was still talking just above a whisper, watching everyone leave the room out of the corner of his eye. “W-what if h-he does it w-without anyone n-noticing?” 

“I don’t think he would, Boyd.” Fenton said, lowering his voice to match Boyd’s. Clearly Boyd didn’t want them to be overheard.

“W-why not?” 

“I know he feels bad enough as it is,” the duck told him. “From what it sounds like, he’s actually been trying to do better since he got here. So I don’t think he’d break the rules, because he wants to earn our trust back.” 

“S-so that h-he can j-just betray us a-again? T-that’s what h-h-he always does!” Boyd pointed out, his voice rising slightly with his emotion. “I-I don’t want t-to be around h-him, but at the s-same time I w-want to watch him s-so he doesn’t h-h-hurt anybody.”

“I understand that.” Fenton leaned forward, enveloping Boyd in a hug that the parrot sank into. “Do you know what you want to do right now? I can go watch him, if you don’t want to be around him.”

“N-no, it’s okay.” Boyd hugged him tighter. “I just don’t like it.” 

“We can go find something else to do today,” Fenton told him. “The anti-ego machine is finished, so now all we have to do is figure out a way to get Gyro to come to us. But other than that we can spend the whole day doing whatever we want to get your mind off of it!” 

Boyd pulled back. “Really?” 

Fenton nodded. “Whatever you want.” 

Boyd bit his beak, a shy yet sly smile creeping over his features. “...Can we go get ice cream?” 

Fenton laughed. “Sure.” 

After telling Scrooge they’d be right back, Fenton and Boyd took a trip to the nearest ice cream store, and Fenton let Boyd get the biggest one they had. The two ate outside the store at one of the small tables, sitting under the cloudy sky.

Fenton shivered, taking a drink of the milkshake he’d bought. “It’s too cold for ice cream.” 

“When is it going to snow again?” Boyd asked. 

“Hm, next week sometime, I think.” Fenton told him. “Hopefully dad will be there to play in the snow with us.”

Boyd smiled. “Hopefully! Then we can get cocoa with him too, since he wouldn’t want ice cream in the cold.” 

“Yes!” Fenton smiled, already making plans. “How about when we get dad back we’ll play in the snow and get a ton of cocoa and then play some board games and then snuggle on the couch and watch a movie?” 

“Let’s do it!” Boyd exclaimed. “And we can have pancakes for dinner?”

“Pancakes for dinner?!” Fenton repeated teasingly, acting like the idea was crazy. 

Boyd nodded. “Pancakes for dinner.” 

“Done.” 

The two sat and watched the cars go by after that, then started to see how high each car could make the slush piled on the side of the road splash up when they zoomed through it. The biggest one nearly splashed them, and Boyd giggled as he leaned back to avoid it. 

It just started to rain when they left, and pretty soon it was coming down hard as they drove back to the mansion. Boyd sat in the passenger’s seat, Fenton reached his right hand over to hold Boyd’s as they drove. 

“What do you think dad’s doing right now?” Boyd asked, watching the lamp posts go by outside the window. 

Fenton let out a breath. “I don’t know, Boyd. Part of me doesn’t even want to guess.” 

“Me either,” Boyd said quietly. “Why do you think he tried to kill the Mad Ducktor? I thought they were working together.” 

“We all did,” the duck confirmed. “I don’t know why. From what it sounds like Gyro thought that the Mad Ducktor wasn’t contributing anything, so he thought he would just get rid of him. But what he did was pretty extreme…” 

“Why did they let him out of the basement? He’s like… our prisoner or something now, right? Why is he allowed to be around the house?”

“From what it sounds like he isn’t doing well down there.” Fenton told him. “That’s the same room he was kept in the last time he stayed in the mansion, and something about that makes him anxious and scared.”

“Why not move him to a different room?” Boyd looked over at his papa. “That would fix it, right?”

“I think part of it is just the basement in general. So Beakley and Archimede have been working towards letting him out for a little, so that he can at least see the sun.” 

“But it’s cloudy,” Boyd said teasingly. Fenton laughed, shaking his head. Then the little parrot looked forward, his brow furrowed as he thought. “Why do Beakley and Archimede care so much if he’s let out? He’s the bad guy, aren’t they mad at him?” 

“They are,” Fenton said, squeezing Boyd’s hand. “But they still care about him. I don’t know why Beakley does, but you know Archimede. He cares about everyone.”

“But doesn’t being on the Mad Ducktor’s side mean he doesn’t care about dad? He’s really hurt dad, doesn’t Archimede see that?” 

“It’s… complicated.” Fenton admitted. “And it’s hard that me and Archimede already knew the Mad Ducktor well before this, and so we were friends with him and we know that he was trying to do better. And I hate to say it, but part of the reason we have to make sure the Mad Ducktor is okay is so he doesn’t snap and do something terrible again.” 

“Like kill someone?” 

“...That is a possibility.” 

Boyd looked back out the windshield, thinking. He leaned against Fenton’s arm, holding the duck’s hand tighter. “I miss dad.” He said quietly.

“I miss him too,” Fenton told him, glancing down at him for a second. “But we’ll get him back, we have to. And we have so many other people ready to help us get him back.”

“I know,” Boyd said, the thought bringing a small smile to his beak. It faded quickly, however. “I-I guess I know what he’s going through, being under the control of something that’s evil.”

Fenton nodded. While he didn’t remember any of it, he had been under the control of the Mad Ducktor for a few minutes when the villain had first arrived. Waking up afterwards had been terrible, and not just because he was falling out of the air when he did so. “It’s scary, isn’t it.” It wasn’t a question.

Boyd held Fenton’s hand even tighter. “It is… I wonder how awake he is right now, if he knows what’s happening. Or if he doesn’t and he’s just scared of what’s going on.”

“Hopefully he has no idea what’s going on.” Fenton said. “That this is just a long nap for him, and that he’ll wake up without feeling guilty.” 

“But we’ll still have to tell him what happened, right?”

“...Yes.” Fenton sighed. “We will. But I really don’t want to.” 

“Me either.” Boyd said quietly. “Isn’t this kind of like what Bradford did to him? With the mind control thing?” 

Fenton hadn’t thought of that. “It is,” he confirmed, thinking. “Gyro’s being entirely controlled by something else right now. And it’s strange, the Mad Ducktor was so upset last time it happened.” 

“Yeah, I wonder how much of that was real then.” Boyd muttered in a rare moment of bitterness. 

“I think it was real.” Fenton said, trying to recall what had happened. “But it goes to show that he almost never holds himself to the same standards as others.” 

“How much of that does he do on purpose?” The little parrot asked. 

Fenton shrugged. “I have no idea.” 

Silence stretched between them for a moment, the only noise coming from the sound of the car around them. Finally Fenton brought its reign to an end. “How are you doing? What with the anti ego machine built and everything?”

“I’m scared,” Boyd whispered, like he didn’t want to admit it. “Really, really scared. Especially after dad tried to kill the Mad Ducktor and Archimede, it shows that for some reason he doesn’t care about any of us anymore. But… I’m hopeful. Because so far we have a way to get him back.” 

“It’s okay to be scared,” Fenton told him. “I’m scared, we’re all scared. Scared for Gyro, scared for us… even the Mad Ducktor’s scared, and this is all because of his plan. But I’m happy you have hope.” 

“Do you have hope?” 

“Yep,” Fenton nodded resolutely. “Because I know we’re all strong and smart, and brave and determined. It’s all of us against him, and we have something worth fighting for.” 

Boyd smiled happily. “We’ll get him back.”

“Yes, we will.”

“In time for it to snow.” 

“Absolutely.” 

“So that we can have hot cocoa and pancakes.”

Fenton laughed. “A perfect dinner.”

They held hands all the way up the front steps of the mansion, Fenton opened the door for Boyd and the little parrot gave him a grin as he walked in.

However their happy attitude was shattered when they stepped inside. The Ducks were running everywhere, people were shouting and dashing through the foyer as fast as they could. Fenton and Boyd stood in the middle of it all, utterly confused. 

“What’s going on?” Fenton asked.

Beakley paused as she walked past, sighing and looking fed up. 

“We can’t find the Mad Ducktor.”

Chapter Text

"What happened, again?” 

Archimede sighed. “Mads said he had to go to the bathroom, so I let him get up and leave for a minute. Then he never came back.” 

“You let him out of your sight?!” Fenton asked. “¿Por qué harías eso? I thought that was the whole point-”

Donald stepped between them, he’d just walked into the room. “Hey, leave him alone! He hasn’t done anything wrong!” 

“Thank you, Donald. I’ve already been yelled at for this, don’t bother.” Archimede told Fenton. Mads had only been missing for a little over five minutes, and he was already tired of this. “But I wasn’t about to follow him to the bathroom!” 

“Where have you looked?” Boyd asked, already ready to help. 

“All over the place, it seems like.” Archimede told him. “As soon as I told somebody else everyone just started running everywhere.” 

“Boyd! You’re here!” Huey ran in. “We haven’t searched the upstairs left wing, come on!” 

Boyd ran after his friend, and the two dashed up the stairs. From next to Archimede Fenton immediately called the Gizmoduck armor and followed the two, leaving Archimede with Donald. 

“What if we went tog-”

“You can take that hallway, I can take this one?” Archimede offered, not meaning to cut the duck off. “Oh, sorry. What were you saying?” 

Donald swallowed. “N-nothing. That plan works!” 

Archimede threw him a smile before turning to the left and following the hallway down to the other end of the mansion. 

Where would Mads have gone? Archimede’s first thought was the mansion’s security room, but everyone had likely checked there. Archimede tried thinking back to what Mads had said earlier for a clue, and there he found his answer. 

“No going outside? But I want to! And it’s cloudy outside! It might rain.” 

Mads had been right, it was currently raining quite hard. Archimede walked close to the windows, glancing out at the courtyard as he walked. The rain splattered against the pool’s cover, and even from inside Archimede could see it was cold and wet outside. Maybe Mads hadn’t gone out after all…

But it was just as Archimede started to doubt that he spotted him, sitting on the porch near one of the external doors, Blacklight standing next to him. 

Archimede grinned, and made his way down the hall to the door. 

Archimede opened the door, and sure enough, Mads was sitting on the patio steps. He was just out of reach of the falling droplets, his beak lifted to the wind as it buffeted his feathers. The blond bird shivered. Sure, it was warm enough to rain, but that didn’t mean it was still a comfortably habitable temperature. How Mads was sitting here just fine in Gyro’s usual clothes in rainy forty degree weather, Archimede had no idea. 

“There you are,” Archimede said, walking over to him. He stood on the top step, just above where Mads was sitting. “You know everyone’s looking for you.”

No response. Mads didn’t even look like he’d noticed that Archimede had walked outside.

“You’re going to be in trouble if you don’t come back, Scrooge and Della especially are getting really mad…”

Still nothing. With a sigh, Archimede came and sat down next to him, looking at the clone. His eyes were closed, his face expressionless, he didn’t even flinch when a stray raindrop hit his face. There were a few speckled across his beak, some on his glasses, and a few more clinging to the feathers of his face. “Are you okay?”

“Not really.” Mads replied, only moving his beak as he spoke. He didn’t even open his eyes, let alone turn to look at the other chicken.

Okay, so that probably wasn’t the best question to go with. “What are you doing out here? Everyone is frantically searching the mansion for you, and we don’t need to add a cold to your list of ailmen-”

Mads cut him off. “I like rain.”

“Oh, um… What about it?” Archimede asked, then immediately cursed himself. That was a stupid question.

The other bird clearly thought so too, as he finally actually looked at Archimede to give him a confused glance. He turned back to the falling droplets with a sigh. “I don’t know, just the sound and the smell and the feel of it.”

Archimede nodded. “I like rain too.” He told Mads lamely. Though it didn’t really seem like something to risk his position on. Mads had already been allowed upstairs with someone to watch him, and an infraction like this would surely end with him back in the basement room.

Mads gave an agreeing humming noise, but it almost sounded disbelieving. “What?” Archimede asked, confused. “I do!”

“Hm… Just listen.” Mads told him. 

Archimede looked at him for a moment, before lifting his own beak to the wind, closing his eyes and listening. 

It was just the sound of rain as it fell, hitting the ground around them, running in rivulets down the walls, plinking in the rain gutter and splatting on the surface of the pool. For such a simple noise it was strangely soothing, and Archimede couldn’t hold back a smile.

It reminded him of warm summer storms, staying inside playing board games or watching TV as the drops splattered down outside. Or of the wet winter rains, opening the windows to let the wind in the house for the first time in a few months. The low rumble of thunder that passed overhead made his smile grow, and the smell of it all felt like old childhood memories. 

Soon Mads’ voice joined the sound of rain. He spoke quietly, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the patter of the droplets. “One of my clearest memories from when I was still recovering from losing my hand and… everything else was sitting in the rain. I-It was the first time in… I don’t know how long, but a while that I’d been able to even think clearly.”

Archimede opened his eyes, looking at the Mad Ducktor. Mads still had his eyes closed, beak raised to the rain, his face expressionless just like before. Blacklight had jumped up to sit on his shoulder. 

“I-it was when it really hit me that I was alive. That I’d survived, and that I would keep surviving. That…” He trailed off, swallowing. “W-well, at the time I thought it meant I’d be able to make it back to everyone.” The smallest hint of a smile played at the corner of his beak. “I just remember sitting out there, just out of reach of the rain like this, just… laughing and crying. Because I was alive.”  

The last three words were filled with emotion, of joy and pride, with an underlying sense of sadness. His voice cracked on the last one, and he had to swallow again to keep it down. 

Archimede looked at him, studying the other chicken’s expression. He was clearly trying hard to keep it neutral, but Archimede could see the pain written there. And that’s when it really hit Archimede that Mads had an entire chapter of his life that he never talked about. That no one ever asked about. It was a huge part of who he was now, yet it was never discussed. No one ever even thought about it. 

But… Did Mads? How often did he think back on what had happened? How much did it still affect him? Was the sound and feel of rain just a small trigger for him, or did he still think about it every day? Did he make it a point not to talk about what it’d taken for him to become the Mad Ducktor, or was it just something that had happened that he’d been able to move on from?

Mads was still talking. “After that nothing got immediately better, but I had hope again. I-I guess now it was just false hope because everyone still hates me, but it meant a lot to me then.”

Archimede opened his beak to argue, to say that Mads still had people on his side, but he paused. Maybe Mads’ ‘just listen’ hadn’t been to the rain, but to him. Maybe he just needed to get this all out there. After all, it’d been over three years now, and Mads had hardly said a word about what had happened to him between the Moonvasion and his first appearance.

So Archimede didn’t say anything. He just listened. 

He just listened as everything slowly spilled out of Mads. He just listened as Mads eventually started from the beginning, retelling everything he could remember. He just listened as the clone described the injuries, the pain, and the memory loss. He just listened as the other explained what had happened to his hand. He just listened as Mads told him about the broken antenna, and about building a prosthetic. He just listened to the rain. He just listened to Mads’ quiet sobs as he spoke, telling him about his excitement as he finally fixed the antenna in the snow, and what the interview he’d found had said.

He just listened, because that’s what Mads needed. 

And when he was done, he gave the other bird a tight hug around his stomach, resting his chin on Mads’ shoulder. He squeezed Mads tight as the other leaned against him, putting his left arm around Archimede as he cried.

Archimede just listened to the rain, to the sound of Mads’ heartbeat against his ear, and the other’s quiet gasping sobs.

Eventually Mads pulled back, and Archimede took the hint and sat up too. Mads wiped his eyes and sniffed, taking a deep shuddering breath. “I-I haven’t ever told anyone all of that before.” He said quietly.

Archimede understood. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone else.”

Mads smiled at him, really meeting his gaze for the first time since Archimede had stepped out here. “Thanks. S-sorry.”

The blond chicken tilted his head, confused. “For what?”

“I-I don’t know, just dumping all of that. I came out here to sit in the rain and after talking to the pink one it all came back, I-I guess I just wanted to be able to say it all out loud-”

“Wanted, or needed?” Archimede asked him. 

Mads opened his mouth, paused, then looked away. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be! Mads, other than the many but short-term times that Gyro, Fenton and I have been with you, you’ve been largely on your own.” 

The Mad Ducktor snorted. “Don’t remind me.”

“Wait, I’m going somewhere with this. I-I mean, Blacklight’s been there, but I’m guessing they can’t fully grasp emotions, right?”

Mads gave a tiny nod. With Blacklight, everything was very black-and-white. To them, someone was either on their side, or a villain. Mads was either happy or sad, angry or content. No matter how hard Mads tried to convince them otherwise, they couldn’t get it. Yes, Blacklight could be empathetic at times, but oftentimes their takeaway from those moments leaned very far one way or another. If Mads was sad because of someone else, then that person was evil and needed to be stopped in order to make Mads feel better again. There was no gray area.

Blacklight crossed their arms, scowling.

“No offense, Blacklight.” Mads and Archimede said at the same time. Blacklight just raised their filament skeptically. 

“So who have you processed this all with?” Archimede continued. “I was left alone in a closet for three days and I’m still affected by it, meanwhile you’ve been through so much more than that and you still keep it all to yourself.”

“W-well it’s fine, I mean, I don’t think about it that much-”

“Still. It’s still in there. It still happened. If this is your first time talking about it, I just feel bad I wasn’t there so I could listen sooner. Because sometimes you need someone to listen.”

“You don’t have to feel bad.” Mads muttered quietly, looking down at his feet. “My emotions aren’t your responsibility.”

Archimede sighed. “I know. But I want to help, Mads. So thank you for telling me. That’s… that’s really brave, and I’m sorry if I-”

“Nuh-uh, no apologies.” Mads cut him off, nudging him with his shoulder. “I needed to talk about it, and you just… listened, and that’s everything I could’ve asked for. Thank you. You’ve already been such a good help so far and I know I don’t deserve it. But… thank you.”

The blond chicken shot him a smile. “It’s the least I could do.”

“Well, that’s not entirely true, you could’ve gotten up and left, you could’ve cut me off, you-”

“Mads, you know what I mean.”

“Not really.”

Archimede chuckled. “Just know I want to do more for you, so if there’s anything you need help with, please tell me?”

Mads gave him a sad half-smile. “You’ve already done so much for me Archie, I don’t want to ask you to do anything more. But there is one thing I need help with right now.” 

“What’s that?” Archimede asked, sitting up a little straighter. Mads was learning how to ask for help, and Archimede wanted to offer his assistance in any way he could. 

“Will you clean my glasses for me?” Mads reached up and took them off. “I would, but it’s a little hard to do it right with one hand, because the lenses are so big.”

A laugh shot its way out of Archimede in some sort of half snort, half giggle. He’d been expecting some kind of emotionally-related task, and the simplicity of the one he was given amused him. “Sure,” he took the glasses from Mads, wiping them off before placing them back on the Mad Ducktor’s beak.

Mads grinned “Thanks, Archie.”

“Anytime.”

That’s when the door behind them suddenly flew open, slamming against the wall next to it. Mads and Archimede both jumped about a foot in the air, whirling around to see Della standing in the doorway, fists clenched, looking like a bull about to charge. 

“Get inside,” she growled. “Now.”

Mads and Archimede shared a look, and they both knew that Mads was in trouble.

—

Mads scowled angrily as he was marched down the hall, more annoyed that Della had been the one to get the satisfaction of catching him than he was about actually being found. Archimede rushed behind her, making excuses for Mads. 

“Look, Della, per favore, he wasn’t going to actually do anything-”

“How hard do you think it would be for you to take her out?” Mads whispered to Blacklight on his shoulder. He reached his hand up, wiping at his still-red eyes and hoping nobody noticed he’d been crying.

Blacklight gave him a darkly happy look. “Not too hard, especially starting at this height… Shall I?” 

Mads sighed. “No… I don’t want to be in any more trouble than I already am.” 

“But I would be the one to do it.” 

“I’d still get blamed, unfortunately.”

“Blamed for what?” Della asked, overhearing. 

“Nothing…” Mads said with a cryptic smile. From his shoulder, Blacklight glared at her, making a slashing motion across their neck. 

“I- hey! You’d better watch that thing-”

“Their name is Blacklight,” Mads told her, not looking back. “And they’ll do what they want.”

Blacklight folded their arms, looking proud. “Yes, I will!” 

Della scowled, somehow managing to look uncomfortable at the same time. “Can’t you turn that thing off?” 

“Nope!” Mads told her cheerily. Ever since the last time Blacklight had been turned off and Mads hadn’t gotten them back until a year later, he’d vowed never to do so again. Not just for Mads’ own sake, but for Blacklight’s. “You don’t switch Backlight off.” 

“It is our rule now,” Blacklight told her with a smug nod.

Della looked like she would’ve argued further, but it was just then when they got to the foyer, where Beakley and Scrooge were standing. “Ye found him?” Scrooge asked, rushing over to them.

Beakley followed at a slower pace. “Where was he?”

“Outside on one of the patios.” Della told them. “Archimede was with him.” 

“I was going to bring him in in a minute, we just got to talking-” 

Scrooge ran a hand down his face. “Archimede-”

“Don’t blame Archie for this.” Mads cut in. “I was the one who snuck away, and I ignored him once he found me so he’d sit out there with me. He’s only done what you wanted him to do.” 

Scrooge eyed him. “Yer willin’ ta take responsibility for what he did?” 

“He didn’t do anything!” Mads pointed out.

“He still let ye go.” Scrooge argued. 

“I convinced him to,” Mads said. He considered defiantly folding his arms, but decided against it. He still didn’t like moving his left arm too much. “Whatever you’ve got with him, it’s actually with me.” 

Della glared at him. “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted you.” 

“I just wanted to go sit in the rain!” Mads exclaimed. “I wasn’t going to go do anything else!” 

“You wanted to do the one thing you knew you weren’t allowed to?” Della asked. 

“Sure, whatever. I would have gone out there with somebody if I was allowed to. But your stupid rule made me just have to do it myself.” 

“It’s not stupid!” Della exclaimed. “It was made to stop things like this!” 

“Yeah, well, it’s only causing them!” Mads told her.

“Hm. Either way, you’re still going back down to the basement.” 

“I object to that.” Mads countered. 

“You don’t get a say!” Della and Scrooge exclaimed at the same time. 

“I object as well?” Archimede said timidly from behind Mads. 

Della frowned at him. “You don’t get a say either, after-” 

“Hey,” Mads cut between them. “I told you whatever you have against Archimede is against me, don’t blame him for this.” 

Beakley held her arms out. “How about the Mad Ducktor goes back down there for the rest of the day, and we’ll try again tomorrow.” 

“With the ‘no going outside’ rule demolished?” Mads asked hopefully.

“No.” Della and Scrooge said firmly.

Mads let out a breath. “Fiiiiiiiiiiine.”

Della looked up at Beakley. “But he already got a chance, and he blew it! Why does he get another one tomorrow? This is ridiculous!” 

“Aye second that, Bentina.” Scrooge said. “The Mad Ducktor has been known to still throw away as many chances as ya give him.”

Mads shot him a glare, annoyed that Scrooge was talking like he wasn’t there. If he was going to point out a flaw, at least point it out to Mads himself instead of Beakley, while Mads was standing right there. 

“I did the dishes!” The Mad Ducktor pointed out, now grasping at anything that might save him. “Don’t I get some kind of payment for that?” 

“Your payment was being let out today.” Della said smugly. 

“So if I do the dishes tomorrow then do I?” Mads asked, smirking at her. 

Beakley shrugged. “I’m good with that.” 

Scrooge frowned. “Aye donnae know about-” 

Beakley cut him off. “With all due respect, you’re not the one who has to do the dishes every day anyway. I think if those are the terms the decision should be left to the person who actually does.” 

Mads covered his beak, a grin growing as Scrooge struggled to come up with a response to that. “Aye- fine. As long as he does the dishes, and has two people watching him tomorrow.” 

Mads couldn’t believe that had actually worked. 

The Mad Ducktor then spent most of the day in the basement, stretched out on his side on his bed, staring at the wall. For something to do he showered and washed his clothes, but that still left several hours of nothing to do.

“I can’t believe I told Archie all of that.” He murmured at one point, still surprised. It had all come out so easily, he was still shocked. 

“You have never told me all of that.” Blacklight pointed out. They were standing on the desk, making shadow puppets on the wall with their fingers. 

“I know, that’s why I’m surprised.” Mads pointed out. “I tell you almost everything, and that’s something I never talk about. So why was it so easy to tell him?” 

“You trust him, correct? Might that be why?” 

“Yes, but I trust you too. And Gyro. And I’ve never told either of you. Archimede didn’t even ask about it, either! I just told him. Dumped it on him, more like.” Mads covered his face with his hand. “That’s embarrassing.”

“I do not think it is.” Blacklight blinked as they tried to form a dog. Having only six fingers total made making shadow finger puppets difficult. “You said you needed to talk about it, I think it is nice that he was there as someone you trusted so you would feel comfortable telling him.” 

Mads smiled. If even Blacklight could see that, then it must have been pretty obvious. “I think so too.”

The clothes were done drying a few minutes after that, and it was only about ten minutes later that Mads fell asleep. Blacklight would usually power down on the pillow or the nightstand, but ever since the night after the interrogation, they’d started snuggling down next to Mads. 

This time it was no different, and Mads couldn’t help but grin as he drifted off with Blacklight nestled in next to him.

Mads woke up very early the next morning, and was already excited to get out of the basement. Archimede was still asleep on the couch however, and Mads flopped down next to him to wait for him to wake up.

Thankfully Mads only had to wait about thirty minutes, because in what they claimed was an accident, Blacklight had stepped on the TV remote, turning it on at full volume. Archimede had jolted awake as Mads rushed to turn it off.

“You’re not allowed upstairs without two people to watch you today,” Archimede pointed out as he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“Yes, but nobody else is going to be awake yet and I’m already booooooored.” Mads whined, flopping over. His head landed right next to where Archimede was sitting, and he had to shift awkwardly to keep the pressure off of his left arm.

Archimede sighed, reaching down to teasingly ruffle Mads’ hair. “I just don’t want you to get in any more trouble.” 

“Does Blacklight count? Could they be the second person?” Mads suggested hopefully.

Archimede looked at the lightbulb, who puffed their chest up and crossed their arms, clearly trying to look like the epitome of responsibility. “I don’t know…” 

“Please?” Mads asked. 

The blond bird rolled his eyes, standing. “Well it’s your funeral. But if you’re going up there now then we need to start on the dishes.” 

“Yes!” Mads exclaimed, scrambling to his feet and following Archimede upstairs. Blacklight quickly jumped up onto his shoulder. 

Sure enough the house was dead quiet, the early-dawn light trying its hardest to peek through the mansion’s curtains. Mads and Archimede set to washing the previous night’s dishes, knowing there’d be more for breakfast later. 

Fenton came in when they were just finishing up, wearing an oversized Gizmoduck hoodie and still looking half-asleep.

“Good morning, Fenton!” Archimede called cheerily as the duck made his way to the fridge. 

Mads raised an eyebrow at him. “You look awful.” 

“Thanks, Archimede.” Fenton said pointedly. Mads laughed. “Buenos días.”

“Thanks for scaring us half to death yesterday, Mad Ducktor.” Fenton added, looking through the fridge. “We all thought you’d snuck off to kill us.” 

“I’d never kill you or Archie!” Mads defended, turning back to the sink. “And blame Della for that, she’s the one who said I couldn’t go outside yesterday. I wanted to sit in the rain.”

“And why was that worth freaking the rest of us out?” Fenton asked, shutting the fridge. He’d retrieved the cream cheese, and set off to look through the pantry for a bagel. 

“I didn’t mean to.” Mads pointed out, trying to decide how open he should be about this with Fenton. Fenton was kind and respectful, but often couldn’t keep things to himself. Archimede was scrubbing away at a plate, listening closely but still staying quiet. “I like rain.” 

“That much?” Fenton asked skeptically.

Mads sighed, setting down the plate he’d been working on and turning around to face Fenton. “Look, it’s honestly a small thing and shouldn’t have been made into such a big deal, but it was. The Pink Niece has been talking to me a lot about clone stuff, and it’s brought a lot of things back. There’s something about rain that reminds me of recovering from the Moonvasion, so I went out there to process some things.” 

Fenton stepped out of the pantry, holding his bagel. “Oh. Okay. That… makes sense, I guess.” 

“Sorry if I caused too much panic.” Mads said, only half joking as he turned back to the sink. 

“Just a normal amount of panic.” Fenton said, and Mads snorted. 

“But seriously Gizzy, your hair looks atrocious.” Mads tried to change the subject, picking up his scrubber again. “More than usual.” 

He could feel Fenton’s scowl. “Thanks. It’s getting too long, and I haven’t had time to cut it. Usually I’d have Gyro do it, but now…” he left the obvious unsaid.

“I could do it,” Mads offered, not looking up. 

“You can- oh, right.” Fenton sat down with his bagel at the breakfast nook. “Sure, if you can do it right.”

“It’ll be the best haircut you’ve ever had,” Mads said, giving him a confident wink. “Though… I need two hands to do it.” 

Archimede spoke for the first time since wishing Fenton good morning. “Mads, if this is just another way to talk us into giving you your hand back-” 

“I’m serious!” Mads exclaimed. “I’ve spent a long time learning how to do specific things with one hand, and ‘hair cutting’ wasn’t at the top of my list for necessities. So I don’t know how to do it.” 

Fenton drummed the table with his fingers. “I know where your hand is…” 

Mads’ face lit up. “Seriously? You’d give it to me?” 

“Just for you to cut my hair.” Fenton told him. 

Mads sighed. “Fiiiiiine…” 

Archimede cut in. “You guys, this isn’t a good idea. If you get caught-” 

“You don’t have to do it with us!” Mads told him. “You can go back to sleep and forget all about us. Besides, if we use one of the bathrooms at the back of the mansion that nobody ever uses, nobody’s going to find us.” 

The blond chicken looked back and forth between them. “This seems like a lot for such a little thing.” 

Mads shrugged, and for the first time it didn’t hurt. “I’m surprised Gizzy still trusts me with it, but since he does I’m down for it.”

Fenton stood, walking over to them, half-eaten bagel still in his hand. “You get it only while cutting my hair and if you try anything you’re never leaving that basement, got it?” 

“Bold of you to assume you’d be able to stop me if I tried anything.” Mads muttered. Blacklight held a hand to their bulb to hide their smug look.

“What was that?” Fenton asked.

“Nothing!” Mads said cheerily. “I get it. I’ll give it right back to you myself.” 

“You’d better.” Fenton told him with a serious look that actually appeared half-teasing. Mads wasn’t quite sure which one to take it as. Fenton looked at Archimede. “Are you in?”

Archimede sighed. “I’m in. But Mads isn’t going anywhere until these dishes are finished.” 

Mads pulled up a tall stool behind Fenton, flexing his prosthetic hand to get used to it and make sure everything was working. Fenton had cut a few wires to disable some of the weapons in it, and luckily hadn’t accidentally cut the connections to any of the fingers. “Alright, so how do you want it?”

“Hmm… Just back to how it was.” Fenton told him, looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. “Maybe a little shorter, so we don’t have to do this again for a while.” 

“Aw, so you don’t want the sides shaved or anything?” Mads asked, combing Fenton’s hair. They’d found hair supplies in one of the other bathrooms. “We could dye it pink, too. Or I think I left some purple dye at your house, we could do that. Your hair is darker though so it might not show up-”

Fenton sighed. “Just back to how it was, please.” 

Mads snorted. “Alright, if you want to be lame…” 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” 

Archimede failed in hiding a giggle behind his hand. He was sitting on the bathroom counter, his back against the mirror as he watched Mads work. 

Silence spread through the room as Mads started, the only sound coming from the brush through Fenton’s head feathers, before it was replaced by the high snip snip snip of the scissors. Fenton’s hair wasn’t too long so this would only take a few minutes, but Mads didn’t want to go back and face the waking Ducks just yet. So he went as tediously slow as possible, cutting as precisely as he could. After all, he had promised Fenton it would be the best haircut he’d ever had.

Fenton spoke a minute or two later. “...How much did you actually mean when you were talking about us during the interrogation?” 

Mads had to hold back a wince. He knew he’d get this conversation sooner or later. “Archimede didn’t tell you? I didn’t mean any of it towards you two. I care a lot about the both of you.” He said it in a light, careless tone, he found it was easier to talk that way. 

“It doesn’t seem like you do,” Fenton told him. 

“What?” Mads asked, looking up and meeting Fenton’s gaze in the mirror. 

“If you really cared a lot about both of us you wouldn’t have reconstructed the ego machine, let alone used it on Gyro.” Fenton said. “You would’ve thought about how it would’ve actually affected all of us.” 

Mads opened his mouth, hesitated, then went back to cutting. He didn’t have a response for that. From the counter, Archimede just brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. 

Fenton continued, trying to prompt Mads into saying something. “But you didn’t, did you?”

Mads nervously tapped his foot against the stool, his talons making a soft clicking noise. “I don’t know. I did a little? I knew you’d be… upset, but I suppose I didn’t see it as that important.” 

“‘Upset’ is putting it mildly.” Fenton grumbled.

Mads sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. I… still do care about you, I just put what I wanted first. A-and I shouldn’t have.” 

What was Mads even saying? He’d given Gyro permission to kill Fenton. Knowing that he could hardly stand talking to Fenton about this, when only a week or so ago he’d been ready to leave the duck for dead. He swallowed, hands getting slightly shaky. 

“But are you only sorry because this backfired?” Fenton asked. “Would you be thinking differently if you were still with Gyro?” 

If Mads were still with Gyro, then Fenton would likely be dead by now. It’d been a week, and their project likely would’ve been finished. “N-no.” Mads admitted quietly. “Gyro… Gyro would’ve likely killed all of you. And I’m realizing now that you’re all on the line that I really don’t want to lose you two.”

Mads saw Fenton and Archimede’s gazes meet, and he already knew what they were thinking. Mads had already lost the two of them, he’d gone too far this time and now he had to pay the price. 

Maybe he’d never get them back as friends like they’d been before, but at least this way they were still alive. 

“So what else didn’t you mean?” Fenton asked. “Now I’m wondering how much of it was true and how much of it was a lie to keep the Ducks happy.” 

Mads looked up. “I-I didn’t lie to keep them happy.” He told them. “All of my lies were… unintentional. M-mostly. They were out before I could stop them, I just didn’t feel like I could say all of it in front of the Ducks.” 

“Like what?” Archimede asked. 

Mads swallowed, focusing back on his task for a moment while he thought back through their conversation. On how defensive he’d been, and how many things he’d said to hide it. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like I enjoyed being with Gyro and didn’t care what all of you were going through. Looking back it feels like rubbing it in your faces, and…” he couldn’t let out the apology just yet. “And I do see how much you do for me, I didn’t see how harsh it would sound if I wasn’t grateful for that. I am, and I always have been.” 

That one he’d regretted the most. Asking Archimede what he was supposed to be grateful for, when he knew exactly what. And after seeing how upset that had made Archimede- to the point of actually shouting at him- had left him feeling even worse. 

“What about killing Mr. McDuck?” Fenton asked. “Where do you stand on that?” 

The Mad Ducktor let out a breath. “I don’t know. I hate him, and it feels like this would be easier if he were gone, that I could… I could finally let go of that, but…” he trailed off, thinking. “But now I know how badly all of you would take it. And I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“So you’d almost given up on it?” Archimede asked. “Why?” 

“Because it’s been so long,” Mads admitted. “And because I knew it would hurt all of you, I just didn’t know how much until now.” 

“Pensé que eso es algo en lo que pensarías antes.” Fenton muttered, clearly thinking. That was the only response Mads got. 

Archimede spoke next. “And what about feeling like you had a timer with all of us? How would pushing all of us away and hurting us help with that?” 

“I knew I wasn’t going to get more time with you,” Mads explained. “Not the way I decided to do this. So I decided to cut my losses- blathering blatherskite, that sounds harsh but you get it- and just be able to really feel free with Gyro. If I could just get that from him, then it felt like it might be enough.” 

Archimede didn’t answer, but he nodded. 

Mads finished a moment or two later, and he cleared his throat. Their conversation was over, and he preferred to move on from it as quickly as he could. “I think it’s done! What do you think? Is it the best haircut you’ve ever had?” 

Fenton turned his head from side to side, getting a look at it as much as he could. Blacklight picked up a smaller mirror on the counter, then jumped over to Mads’ shoulder and held it up so Fenton could see the back. “It looks fantastic!” 

“I told you,” Mads said, smirking. His arms were aching slightly from being held up for so long, and he stretched as much as he could. He was just moving to take his prosthetic off when Webby ran in, out of breath. 

“There you guys are!” She exclaimed. “I’ve been looking for you!” 

“What is it?” Archimede asked, sliding down from the counter. 

She shrugged. “I was just wondering where you were. But did you hear about Scrooge?” 

Fenton stood, casting Mads a suspicious look. “No, what about him?” 

“He just sold off a ton of his most profitable businesses!” Webby said, still sounding surprised about it. “All to Glomgold, and he’s already lost a ton of money!” 

“He what?!” Mads demanded, standing. This couldn’t be happening. “Where is he?!” 

Webby looked at him, clearly surprised by his outburst. “At the dining room table, I think Granny just got him his tea.” 

But before she’d even finished Mads was rushing past her, walking quickly down the hall. Blacklight had set their mirror down and ran to catch up with him, quickly scrambling up to his shoulder. 

Fenton, Archimede and Webby followed him, clearly confused. “Mads, what’s going on?” Archimede asked. 

“I have to tell you in a minute.” Mads said, flexing the fingers on his left hand. He was pretty sure he could tell what worked and what didn’t, and he ran through each of them, trying to figure out what he could use. 

“Wait no, you can’t just-” but Mads sped up, Fenton and Webby were now running to keep up with him. He had to get there before anything else happened. 

He made it to the dining room in only about a minute, the others rushing to keep pace with him. He ignored their questions, he couldn’t concentrate on them with the thoughts running through his head. 

Finally, right in front of the dining room door, Fenton stepped in front of him. “Mad Ducktor, you can’t-” 

Mads shoved his way past him, throwing open the doors to the dining room. Scrooge was sitting at the head of the table, with Beakley standing next to him. They both looked up as Mads entered. “Mad Ducktor, what-

But Mads got one look at the forming smirk on Scrooge’s face and acted. Powering on his laser finger, he brought his arm up as fast as he could. 

Scrooge’s head hit the ground first, rolling to the side before his body fell to its knees, then collapsed all the way forward onto its stomach. 

The entire room stared in shock.

Chapter Text

There was a shocked moment of silence before everyone began acting at once. Webby made some noise between a gasp and a scream, Fenton rushed to Scrooge’s body and Archimede fell to his knees, hands over his beak. Beakley rushed across the room, and the next thing Mads knew was he was forced face-first against the wall, Beakley’s hand and knee digging into his back, her other hand at his throat. Blacklight went flying.“What the hell?!” 

Mads gasped, struggling to get air as her grip tightened. “I-it’s not-” 

Fenton was kneeling next to Scrooge’s head, eyes wide, his whole body shaking as he tried to figure out what to do. Other than Beakley, he was the only one here who was more used to violence, and acted faster. “Dios mío Mr. McDuck…” 

“N-no I’m telling you i-it’s-” Mads gasped, unable to move as Beakley pinned him to the wall. 

From next to them Webby collapsed, tears already forming in her eyes. She leaned against Archimede, who looked like he was going to be sick. “Scrooge-”

“It’s what?!” Beakley practically shouted right in his ear. “What excuse could you possibly have for this? You just - Oh my- ” 

Her grip tightened, and Mads struggled even more to get air to his lungs. Even though she held on tighter, he could hear the crack in her voice. “I-I-” 

“And who let you have your hand back?” 

Archimede was kneeling next to him, his eyes wide, his beak still covered by his hands. He swallowed a few times before he spoke. “Non sapevamo che sarebbe successo- we gave it to him so he could cut Fenton’s hair, but we didn’t think-” 

“Obviously.” Beakley growled. “How could you trust him? After everything he’s done-” 

“It’s not Scrooge!” Mads finally managed to yelp out. 

Beakley’s grip loosened in surprise. “What?” 

Mads gasped for air, at last he was able to breathe. “It’s not Scrooge,” he said again. “It’s a robot-” 

Webby paused, the horrified look leaving her face. “Oh, right. There’s no blood!” 

Fenton sat back, blinking. “That’s what’s wrong here.” 

Beakley finally backed up, and Mads fell away from the wall, massaging his neck. He collapsed next to Archimede and Webby, the fight leaving him now that the threat of the Scrooge robot was neutralized. Blacklight scrambled over to him, scurrying up to sit on his shoulder. 

Beakley stood over him, arms crossed. “What is going on here?!” 

“It was Gyro and I’s plan.” Mads explained, still trying to catch his breath. “We figured one of the ways to hurt Scrooge the most was to get rid of his money, so we were going to build a robot replacement to sell off all of his profitable companies.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to come in here and cut its head off.” Fenton pointed out, standing. He still looked a little shaky. “Dios mío.”

“It’s designed to attack once it notices anyone catching on to its act.” Mads stood, walking over to the robot and sitting down next to it, picking up Scrooge’s head. “All the controls are in its head, so you have to cut that off as soon as possible.” 

“So you just saved all of us?” Webby asked. For some reason, her expression was strangely hopeful.

“Saved himself, more like.” Beakley grumbled. “That thing likely would’ve attacked the second it saw him.” 

“Both of you aren’t wrong,” Mads said as pulled the beak open. He was greeted with a mess of wires inside of the robot’s head. 

“So where’s Scrooge?” Webby asked, walking over as Mads got to work disassembling the head. 

“Gyro probably has him.” Mads told her, not looking up. Blacklight jumped down from his shoulder to help. “I’m surprised he was able to pull this off, since he didn’t have the lab.” 

“You didn’t think to tell us about this?!” Beakely demanded. “It didn’t cross your mind?!” 

“I didn’t think it was necessary!” Mads told her. “I didn’t think he’d be able to finish building a robot like this without our lab. So it didn’t seem important.” 

Webby looked back and forth between them. “Wait, so Scrooge has been kidnapped? What-” 

She broke off as the head in Mads’ hands lit up, the eyes suddenly opening. A blue beam projected from them, coming to form the shape of a small holographic Gyro standing about a foot away from Mads. 

It just stood there for a moment, one eyebrow raised, looking out at the world with a judging look. Beakley and Archimede came closer, Archimede still looking rather unsure on his feet. 

Finally the little figure moved. “Well. If you’re seeing this it’s because you’ve found my little robot and you’ve found a way to destroy it. Which I have to congratulate you on, that is no easy feat.” 

“His little robot.” Mads growled. Beakley shushed him.

“Though, knowing all of you, Ducktor did it for you.” The hologram looked at them, smirking. “In which case, I suppose I’m congratulating him.” 

“I feel just honored.” Mads muttered. Beakley shushed him again. 

“Anyway, in case you’re wondering, I do have Scrooge.” Gyro told them, his smile turning even more malicious. “And I’m willing to trade him back. There is one thing I want greatly from all of you, let’s see if you can figure it out. If not, meet me outside of the bank at sunset in…” Gyro pushed his glove down, inspecting his wrist. “Four days’ time. Then we can talk about this.” 

“He knows we’ll ambush him, right?” Webby whispered. 

Beakley nodded. “Which means he’s sure he’ll be able to fight all of us off. We’ll have to go cautiously.” 

“I promise, I won’t be the one to strike first.” Gyro said. “We can peacefully negotiate, and then that will be the end of this. Unless, of course, you all try something stupid. Which I really hope you don’t.” 

Then the hologram seemingly looked right at Mads. “And Ducktor… I’ll see you soon.” 

The hologram flickered out of existence. 

The five of them waited for a moment for anything else to happen, but nothing did. Then the others all erupted into conversation at the exact same time.

“It’s a trap!” 

“Of course it is. But is it one worth falling into?”

“He did say he wouldn’t attack unless we did…” 

“Right, because we can trust anything he says.” 

“But if he’s giving us a time and location that must mean he’s confident enough that he’ll be able to overpower us.” 

“Which means we need to figure out whatever his plan is.” 

But Mads wasn’t paying attention to them. Something Gyro had said was stuck in his brain, something about Gyro’s plan was on the tip of his tongue. 

Gyro had been mean to him since the start. Mads could see that now. Even if the two could physically operate well together, Gyro had always been pointing out what Mads had done wrong. Going as far as trying to hit Mads when he’d intervened to save Archimede. And there had been pure hatred in his actions when he’d tried to kill Mads, that couldn’t just be stemming from wanting to get rid of an extra variable. 

“Gyro hated me all along…” Mads murmured, thinking aloud. Blacklight jumped down onto the Scrooge robot’s head, looking up at him in confusion.

“What?” 

“Gyro never liked me,” Mads told them, still trying to fit the pieces together. “He must’ve been planning to kill me for at least a few days before he did.”

“Why?” Blacklight asked. “If he hated you, then why did he stay?” 

That’s when the last connecting ends met, and the reason behind every single one of Gyro’s actions hit Mads like a bolt of lightning. Blathering blatherskite, it was so obvious, why hadn’t he seen it before? He should’ve suspected it from the start!

Mads groaned, resting his forehead in his hand. “Uuugh… I am such an idiot.”

—

It was an old-fashioned kind of cell. 

Typical, for such a villain.

Metal bars, cold concrete floors and dark lighting. The only way to undo the lock was with a big old key, which was kept on a jangling keychain with several others of its kind. 

Scrooge had been in dozens of cells like this before, but this time his captor was thorough in keeping him from escaping. Scrooge’s glasses had been confiscated, along with his hat, spats, and shirt. He was left in his dirty old undershirt, looking disheveled, but still fighting. 

He'd woken up here this morning, utterly shocked not to find him in his bed that he'd fallen asleep in. He'd been left extremely confused, and eventually put everything together once Gyro strode into the room, completely ignoring the old duck. Thinking back, Scrooge had realized that he'd left the window open that night, because the heater in his room was on the fritz and completely overheating it. 

There were alarms that went off when the windows were forced open, but Gyro hadn't even needed to do that. He could've just slipped right in. 

The cell was up against a large room, with a huge desk situated in the middle. The desk held countless monitors, one of the only light sources in the entire space. From his space on the edge of the room, Scrooge could hardly see a thing. There were a few warm lamps at the desk, but that was it. Gyro sat at one of the computers, typing away.

“You cannae keep me here!” Scrooge shouted. If only he had something to bang against the bars. “Aye’ll escape! Ye know it! Or mah family will come-” 

Gyro finally acknowledged him, looking back at the cell. “Oh, I’m counting on them coming.” 

“What do ye mean?” Scrooge asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. 

Gyro swiveled his chair to face him. “I mean, I need them here. In some ways, you’re my bait.” 

Scrooge’s eyes widened. “What?” He had to find a way to make sure his family stayed away, then. If Gyro had a way to capture all of them… “Then Aye’ll escape myself!” 

Gyro snorted. “Hm, I wouldn’t bother. It’d likely kill you, and I need my bargaining chip alive. But don’t worry, you’ll be free soon.”

“‘Bargaining chip’?” Scrooge repeated, confused. “For what? Me in exchange for mah money, or something?!” 

“No,” Gyro’s smile turned smug. “Most of your money is gone already. I’m trading you in for something much more valuable to me.” 

Scrooge watched him, hoping Gyro’s expression would give something away. But the chicken was entirely unreadable, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he studied Scrooge. The old duck was sure Gyro had just said that about his money to get a raise out of him, so he ignored it. “And what is it that ye want?” 

“The Mad Ducktor.” Gyro snarled, his expression changing to a glower in an instant. “I hate him.” 

“Um…” Scrooge was now completely confused. “...Why?” 

Gyro barked out a fake laugh. “Really? You can’t figure out why?” 

“Er… Is it because he betrayed yo-” 

“Yes it’s because he betrayed me!” Gyro nearly shouted. He stood, marching over to Scrooge's cell, his boots clicking loudly on the ground. “Really, after everything I’ve done for him, he still decides to betray me! To bring back something I loathe! I mean look at me!” 

Gyro stopped a few feet from the cell, holding his arms out. “I’m reduced to something I’ve hated for a decade! Made to like this stupid outfit, this stupid persona. Something that’s literally the opposite of me, and that I still hate to think back on!” 

“S-so then why don’t ye change-” 

Gyro growled. “Because the other part of me is too weak and scared to see what he could be doing. Like this I’m much more bold and ambitious, and I can finally show the people of Duckburg what I’m capable of. It’s worth it to put up with the parts of this I don’t like.” 

Gyro then spun on his heel, black coat whirling out behind him as he walked back over to the computer. 

Scrooge was processing all of it. “Wait, so all of this… was just ta get back at the Mad Ducktor?” 

Gyro cast him a smile over his shoulder. “Why, yes it was. Going along with the idiotic little plan of his, pretending to like him, working alongside him.” Something flashed in Gyro’s bright green eyes. “All to make it hurt more when I finally get the privilege of ending him and his nonsense once and for all.” 

—

“So that was all just… to hurt you?” Fenton asked.

Mads nodded. “Yes. And it’s why he specifically went after Archimede.” He looked at the blond bird, who looked more than ever like he was going to throw up. “He knew how much I cared about him, and how much his death would hurt.” 

“But… Archimede is still his family.” Webby pointed out. Archimede barely seemed to hear them. “Why wouldn’t that still be enough to keep Gyro from killing him?” 

Mads didn’t look up at her, he returned to the Scrooge robot head in his hands, still trying to take it apart. “The ego machine takes whatever negative feelings you have and amplifies them by a thousand,” he explained. “Which would make his hatred of me that much stronger than any kind of feelings of family he has towards anyone else.” 

“So is that what he wants in exchange for Scrooge?” Asked Della. She, Huey and Donald had come in while Mads was explaining Gyro’s motivations to the others. “The Mad Ducktor? We could just hand him in?” 

“Yes, but we can’t just ‘hand him in’,” Beakley said. Mads felt a surge of gratitude towards her, and he smiled as he continued taking apart the head. 

“Why not?” Huey asked, his eyes narrowing. “He’d do the same to us.” 

“Oh, and you’d sink to my level?” Mads asked, still not looking up. Finally there came a click, and the entire head fell apart into two pieces in Mads’ hands. 

“At last,” he said, setting down the right half. From the left half he pulled loose a familiar pink shard of crystal, and passed it to Webby. “I got that for you,” he told her sarcastically, not looking up. 

Beakley took the shard. “So that’s what you needed these for? This robot?”

“That’s what we needed one of these for.” Mads said, putting the head back together. The two halves slid together with a click. “Just in case this robot was able to keep up the charade longer than we expected, we needed an energy source that would last long enough that the robot didn’t die. It’s a shame this didn’t work though, we spent ages dying the feathers to be the right colors.” 

“What were the other two used for?” Webby asked him. 

Mads let out a breath, finally looking up at them. “Remember the giant mech suit from the first time?” 

Della and Beakley’s eyes widened. “You’re not saying-”

Mads nodded. “We brought it back. Which is likely why Gyro gave us a week, so he could finish building it.”

“How big is it?” Fenton asked. “Could he have built the entire thing in two weeks?” 

“It’s a little under twenty feet tall,” Mads told him. “And I have no idea if he could get it done that fast. There were parts of the original down in the Bin’s storage basement, but we weren’t able to get ahold of those. We were counting on building off of those to save time, but without them I don’t know how long it would take.” 

“How fast did you think it would take?” Della asked. 

“Two weeks,” Mads said. “But that was with two people working on it and some pieces already built.” 

Webby let out a shaky breath. “Now what? We have to get Scrooge back!”

“I still say we turn the Mad Ducktor in,” Della crossed her arms. 

Mads’ left hand clenched, his whole body tensing up. He knew Gyro would kill him the first chance he got, and the Ducks had the opportunity to hand him right over. He was prepared to do whatever he needed to to stop that from happening.

“Surely there’s a way to do this without getting somebody killed?” Fenton suggested. 

“We could send him to Gyro with the anti-ego machine!” Webby exclaimed. “Then when he gets close enough he could use it on him!” 

“That might work,” Beakley rubbed the bottom of her beak. “But Gyro likely won’t let anyone with any kind of weapon- let alone the anti-ego machine- within a hundred feet of him.” 

“So we give the Mad Ducktor to Gyro, get Scrooge back and find another way to turn him back!” Della waved a hand. “It’s simple!” 

“Yes, but then I’ll be dead.” Mads pointed out. She shrugged.

The others continued talking, and Mads zoned out the conversation as he noticed Archimede still sitting next to him on his knees, hands over his beak and not saying a word. Mads set down the robot head, moving closer to him. “You good?”

Archimede jumped, blinking and looking around. It took him a moment to focus on Mads. “Y-yeah, I’m fine. I think. Non so.” 

“Sorry, I had to destroy it as fast as I could.” Mads moved so he was sitting right next to him. 

“I understand,” Archimede leaned against him, letting out a breath. “It was just… shocking. È stato anche così improvviso. Then to just have the head sitting there-” the blond bird broke off with a gag. 

“Do you need to leave?” Mads sat up more, he hadn’t known Archimede was this close to throwing up. “We can go out of here, if you need to.” 

“Maybe.” Archimede closed his eyes, leaning further against Mads. The Mad Ducktor put an arm around him, reassuringly rubbing Archimede’s forearm. 

“Is he okay?” Fenton mouthed, catching sight of the two. 

“Just shocked,” Mads mouthed back, and the duck nodded. Fenton came to sit down on Archimede’s other side, putting a reassuring hand on his knee. Though Archimede didn’t open his eyes, Mads could see him smile faintly.

Beakley looked at them. “Archimede, are you okay?” 

The blond bird waved a hand. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice strangely breathy. He didn’t appear to be doing any better, this had clearly shaken him badly. “Sto bene, davvero.”

“Hm,” Beakley bent over, easily lifting Archimede in her arms. His eyes flew open and he squawked. 

“Wait wha-” 

“Donald, will you get him a glass of water?” Beakley asked, leaving the dining room, the rest of them following behind her. 

“Yes, Mrs. B!” Donald said cheerily, heading to the kitchen. Beakley took Archimede to the TV room, setting him down on the red couch. 

Archimede sat up. “H-hey, I promise I’m fine, I-” 

“You looked like you were either going to throw up or pass out, and we don’t need either of those things happening.” Beakley told him. “The best thing we can do right now is get you relaxed and out of that room.” 

Mads stayed standing in the doorway, shoulder against the doorframe with Blacklight on his head. Donald walked past him with a cup of water, and Mads raised an eyebrow as the duck kneeled down next to Archimede, passing him the cup with a gentle smile on his face and a small blush. Something was clearly going on there, but Mads didn’t have the energy to figure it out then.

Beakley looked up at Mads. “Mad Ducktor, we’ll need your hand back-” 

“No,” Mads shifted so his left hand was partially hidden behind his back. From his head, Blacklight glared at Beakley. 

“Mad Ducktor, we said-” Fenton started, looking at him. 

“I was going to give it back,” Mads assured him. He hated breaking Fenton’s trust like this when trust was really what he needed here, but he wasn’t letting his hand go. “But now with half of you threatening to send me back to Gyro I don’t trust you enough to give you my only means of defense.”

Beakley sighed. “We’re not turning you in, just give it back before we have to make you.” 

“Mm-hmm, like a promise from any of you is worth anything.” Mads said, his eyes narrowing. The others had all stepped closer, making him on edge. 

“It’s worth more than one of yours,” Donald stood from his spot next to Archimede on the couch. 

Mads snorted. “That doesn’t mean anything. I’m not giving this back.” 

Beakley moved towards him, her voice hardening. “Yes, you are.” 

Mads took a step back, partially lifting his left hand. “No, I am not.” 

“It’s not your place to say!” Della exclaimed, taking several daring steps forward. “You’re only allowed here under the rules that you don’t have any weapons, so you have to give that back.” 

“Or you’ll do what?” Mads asked. 

Della didn’t answer, but her eyes narrowed. “Just… give it back!” She dove at him.

Mads immediately activated the knife on the back of his prosthetic hand, with a crisp metallic sound it slid out over his knuckles. He held is fist to Della’s neck as she leapt at him, and as he’d anticipated, she drew up short. 

Donald, Huey and Archimede gasped. 

The blade just barely grazed the feathers on her neck. 

“I’m not giving this back,” he hissed, looking into her wide blue eyes. 

Della swallowed, and as she did her throat bulged out the tiniest amount, enough that the blade touched her skin. She raised her hands held up submissively by her shoulders. She took a few shaky steps back, not saying anything. 

Beakley stepped forward. “You will not be allowed to have that-”

Mads raised his hand to her, powering on his laser finger just enough that it made a satisfying humming noise without shooting. “I am not giving this back,” he said, scowling. “I don’t trust you not to turn me in once I don’t have a way to defend myself.” 

It wasn’t so much the hand he needed this badly, just the protection its gadgets gave him. Injured like this he knew he wouldn’t be able to fight back against all of them, but with the weapons in his hand he could. 

“I don’t care,” she said, frowning. “You aren’t allowed to have a weapon if you stay with us. We don’t trust you enough.”

“You’ll just have to,” he growled. “I’m not handing this over.”

“Then I suppose I’ll just have to take it,” Beakley leapt at him, and he instinctively fired off a laser that scorched the wall behind her as she ducked. The next thing he knew she was upon him, and he just barely dodged to the side in time.

Mads made a swipe at her with his knife, but she moved just in time and kicked him in the stomach, sending him stumbling back against a bookshelf. He gasped as his injury hit up against the wood, and he barely got time to recover before Beakley was advancing again. 

She moved to grab at his hand, and he lashed it upwards to punch her in the shoulder, the knife barely missing her. The impact sent a shock through his arm that made him cry out, falling back.

Beakley moved to hit him in the stomach again, but he kicked at her fist, talons scraping along her wrist. Though they weren’t sharp they dug in hard, enough to bruise and barely pierce the skin. She hardly seemed to notice, moving in for another grab as he recovered his footing. 

Mads slashed the knife at her, and her hand retreated just in time for it not to slice through her palm. Her other hand came forward to strike, and Mads squawked, falling back as it made connection with his side. 

In his small moment of weakness Beakley acted immediately jumping forward and grabbing his wrist, twisting his left arm behind his back. 

Mads fell to his knees, screeching from the pain in his shoulder, and in his injury as it was overextended. His head dropped back, his whole body tense as he prayed Beakley wouldn’t move his arm back any further.

A stunned silence ensued while Mads gasped, trying to work through the pain. His eyes squeezed shut as he prayed for release. 

Beakley broke the silence, finally letting go of him. “Well. That settles it, I suppose. Mad Ducktor, if you use that on any of us, you will be locked down in that room.” 

Mads slumped down, hands in his lap as he swallowed, the pain in his arm fading. “I wasn’t planning on it.” 

“He gets to keep it?!” Huey and Donald exclaimed.

“That proves that I can beat him even with his prosthetic and its weapons.” Beakley told them as Mads shakily stood. Blacklight rushed to him, blinking worriedly. “So if he tries anything, I can still overpower him.”

“What if he still tries to kill us?” Huey asked. “Then what?”
“Then I can intervene.” She said confidently. Mads returned to his spot in the doorway, his face burning with humiliation and embarrassment. 

“We can’t just have this criminal who wants us all dead loose in our house!” The duckling pointed out. “With a weapon!”

Beakley looked at them. “He still isn’t allowed outside, and has to have two people watching him at all times if he’s upstairs. And if he has his hand, then one of those people needs to be me. Right now we have bigger things to focus on.”

—

First they rounded up everyone else in the mansion, explaining what had happened. Boyd stuck close to Fenton, the duck could tell his son didn’t like that the Mad Ducktor got his hand back in addition to being allowed upstairs in the first place. 

After moving the robot body of Scrooge out of the dining room they all gathered in there to plan something. Fenton had a large piece of paper spread before him and Boyd on his lap, ready to write down any and every idea that came to his head. 

“What if we rebuilt the mech to fight back against him?” Dewey suggested, jumping up onto the table. “Then we could have an awesome robot fight!” 

“That might work, but we don’t have enough time.” Fenton told him. “We’ve got four days to build something it took Gyro two weeks to make.”

“Yeah, but there’s a lot of us!” Dewey pointed out. “And we already have some old parts to use?” 

The Mad Ducktor was sitting cross-legged on the table, leaning back with one hand to prop him up, the other hand holding a muffin. His robe had fallen open at the top, leaving much of his chest exposed. “Yes, I think there’s an arm down there, a foot and part of the chest. That would save us quite a bit of time, and give us something to copy for the other arm and foot.” 

“So do you think we can get it done in four days?” Beakley asked him. 

“With all of you?” He looked at them skeptically. “No. We’d need at least a week.” 

“What if some of us went to the meeting with Gyro and we didn’t take the Mad Ducktor?” Webby suggested. “Then he could tell us that he wants the Mad Ducktor, we could act surprised, and then say we’ll meet up with him in two more days? That would give us more time!”

“Good idea, Webbigail.” Beakley said, nodding. “We may just have to do it.” 

“But what do we do if Gyro makes us bring him earlier than two days?” Louie asked. 

“Then we need a back-up plan.” Archimede told him. 

“So we’re building the mech?” Dewey asked excitedly.

“If we are, we need to start it right now.” The Mad Ducktor told them, finishing his muffin. He balled the wrapper up and passed it to Blacklight, who jumped down from his head to throw it away for him. “And we need to make sure both Boyd and the Gizmoduck armor are completely safe, we can’t have Gyro getting to either of them. Right now they’re our two main ways to fight back.”

Fenton nodded. “I can see to that as soon as we’re done.”

“Are we building the mech?!” Dewey repeated, almost jumping up and down in excitement at this point. 

Beakley let out a breath. “Wait, Dewey. We need to see if we can think of something else before we spend the next six days building it and not focusing on a better plan.”
“Aw,” the duckling frowned in disappointment. 

It took them just over an hour to come up with something that might work. Beakley looked at the sheets of paper spread out before her, putting everything together. 

“Alright. In four days we’re sending Della, Archimede, Louie and I to meet up with Gyro in front of the bank. If he gives us two days to bring the Mad Ducktor- which we may be able to get by saying he’s too injured still to come now- then we should be able to finish the mech. During the meeting we’ll have another group of people listening in closely to make sure everything goes as planned. If Gyro gives us two days, then that’s good. If he doesn’t, then we have Gizmoduck and Boyd close to strike whenever the mech shows up.”

“Here’s an idea-” Archimede leaned forward. “What if we hand Mads over-”

“Archie-” the Mad Ducktor cut in warningly.

“Wait, I’m not done. We hand Mads over and see if he’ll tell us where Scrooge is. Then since Gyro’s still standing there with Mads, we can just take him back.” 

“How do you know he won’t just kill me right there?” The Mad Ducktor asked, frowning. “Or ship me off somewhere else before he tells you where Scrooge is?” 

“Well, we can intervene before he sends you anywhere, but I didn’t think about him killing you…” Archimede trailed off, thinking.

The Mad Ducktor scowled. “Yeah. That might be a problem.” 

“So can we start working on the mech now?” Dewey asked, excitedly bouncing up and down. 

Della sighed. “Yaaaaayyyy more building… woooooo…”

“You don’t have to help,” the Mad Ducktor told her with a smirk, sliding down off the table as the meeting came to a close. 

“Hey- you’re not helping either!” She said, standing up. “You’re not allowed back to the Bin, let alone the lab-” 

“You can’t build this without me,” the Mad Ducktor leaned against the table, right palm on its surface. “None of you can finish it in time.” 

Della looked at the rest of them for confirmation, and Archimede nodded. “He’s right, we really can’t.”

She let out a breath that sounded more like a grumble, and the Mad Ducktor grinned.

“Tah-daaaaah!” The Mad Ducktor whipped the sheet off of the bundle of parts in the corner of the storage space under the lab. It was dark down there, but the metal still glinted in the light. 

It’d taken them a while to get started, Beakley had decided to check on the Mad Ducktor’s injury after she’d aggravated it by fighting him, and in the end had decided that his stitches could come out. Instead of waiting, the others had gone to the Bin to look for the parts, but weren’t able to find them until the Mad Ducktor got there anyway.

Fenton’s eyes widened. “That’s just the arm?!” 

Della nodded. “This thing was big.” 

“And we’ve got to move it upstairs.” The Mad Ducktor said. “Gizzy you’re strong, you can do it, right?” 

Fenton called for the Gizmoduck armor, and was just able to lift the arm long enough to get it up into the lab. Boyd carried the foot, and the two of them had to come back down for pieces of the chest. 

Once it was all laid out in the lab they all looked to the Mad Ducktor for what to do next. He studied the parts, his hand held to his chin. “Boyd, can you scan these and make blueprints?” Fenton could sense the apprehension in the villain’s voice. The Mad Ducktor almost never spoke directly to Boyd, and their current situation- Boyd was still angry at the Mad Ducktor and they both knew it- made it more awkward.

The little parrot nodded, still sticking close to Fenton. “Yes.”

“Great. I know there’s not a lot of chest here, but do you think you could do an entire diagram for that?”

Boyd looked at the pieces. “I think I could get most of it!”

“I’ll take that. All of you get started on that while I figure out something for the legs. Work fast, but don’t lose quality.”

Boyd stepped forward, scanning the pieces before rushing to the printer to print out diagrams. Fenton walked over to the Mad Ducktor. “Do you really think we can get this done in time?” He asked quietly.

“With Boyd giving us instant diagrams, it should go faster than I thought,” he said, nodding.

“Is that fast enough?”

The Mad Ducktor let out a breath. “I don’t know. It might be. It depends on the breaks we take, on everyone’s competence and the ability to get along. With Della here I don’t know how well we’ll all be able to cooperate.”

Fenton raised an eyebrow. “Right. The arguments are Della’s fault.”

The Mad Ducktor smiled, shaking his head. “You know me, I’ve got to have someone to blame. Now let’s get started, we should have at least an idea of what we’re doing by the end of the day.”

Chapter Text

“Hey! No falling asleep!” 

Mads watched as Archimede sat up, rubbing his eyes. His hair was an absolute mess, and Mads had to hold in a snort at the sight of him. “S-sorry,” he said, turning back to the part of the robot arm he was putting together. 

Donald walked over to Archimede, giving him a steaming mug that the blond bird accepted with a smile. “Some of us haven’t been just sitting around all week.” He told Mads with a disapproving look.

Mads scowled. “I’ve been ‘sitting around’ because I’ve been recovering from nearly being murdered. I think I deserve it.”

The sky outside had long faded to darkness, and Huey and Webby were already asleep. Donald had been going around handing out tea, while Fenton and Archimede looked on the verge of falling asleep. Della had the same determined look on her face that she’d had since that morning, and she’d been working tirelessly the entire day. Beakley worked silently next to her. Boyd sat next to his papa, helping him and occasionally prodding him awake. 

“Psst. Papa.” Mads glanced over to see Boyd elbowing Fenton, who raised his head from his desk. 

“Hm?” 

Archimede glanced at them. “Can we take a break to sleep? We can set up the cots and air mattresses in here and just get back to work as soon as we wake up.” 

“We don’t have time for sleeping,” Mads grumbled, looking back down at his diagram. “Not if we want to get this done in time.” 

“Not even for like a few hours?” Fenton asked, resting his head back down on the table. “If I keep working I’m going to mess something up and then this whole thing will be ruined.” 

“Don’t do that.” Mads said warningly, looking up at him. 

“So can we go to sleep?” Donald asked. 

“Who put him in charge?” Della asked without looking up. “Go to sleep if you want, you don’t have to run it past him.”

Mads glared at her. “If we want to get this done in time we need to take as few breaks as possible-” 

“And this is one of those few breaks.” Beakley said, standing. “Who needs help with air mattresses?”

In the end they all indeed went to sleep, setting up cots, air mattresses and sleeping bags at random all around the lab. Boyd even curled up next to Fenton for a moment, cuddling close with promises to get up and go back to work once Fenton fell asleep. Donald called dibs on the biggest air mattress, and when Archimede teasingly frowned saying he’d wanted that one the two compromised on sharing it. Archimede appeared entirely unaffected by the arrangement, but Mads could see Donald’s blush glowing brighter than Blacklight in the dark. 

Mads got the chaise, with Fenton and Boyd’s cot only a few feet from him. Blacklight switched off the lab’s lights before running over and nestling down next to Mads, and the Mad Ducktor grinned. 

“Good night!” Donald said into the darkness of the lab. 

He got a few replies, and it surprisingly didn’t take long for everyone to fall asleep. 

They’d made significant progress in the last several hours, Boyd had pieced together enough blueprints for everyone to get started while Mads worked on the ones for the legs. He didn’t remember building them from the first time- Gyro hadn’t recovered all of his memories from the first time he’d been hit by the ego machine- but he was a genius, and could piece together what he knew already. 

They were nowhere near being done, but it was a start. 

—

Della was the first to wake up. 

The lab around her was still cast in the eerie blue dark color from the ocean outside the windows, and the quietness of the lab was interrupted by the soft snores of sleeping birds. Della raised her head, looking around to see if anyone was awake. 

Other than Boyd who was quietly working away at a desk on the other side of the lab, everyone looked to be asleep. 

There came a gasp from Della’s left and she twisted around, looking over Fenton’s cot to see the Mad Ducktor curling in on himself, eyes shut with a grimace on his face. Blacklight was still nestled against his chest, a worried expression on their bulb. The Mad Ducktor gasped and whimpered again, and Della sat up with a sigh. 

“Mad Ducktor!” She hissed, trying not to wake anyone else up. She knew that if the villain’s nightmares woke him up screaming, then everyone else would wake up before they were ready too. “Mad Ducktor!” 

Blacklight raised their bulb in confusion, but the Mad Ducktor didn’t hear her. He was too deeply asleep. 

Letting out an annoyed huff, Della stood, walking over to the chaise. Blacklight jumped to their feet, glaring up at her as she walked around behind it. “Relax lightbulb, I’m just here to make sure he doesn’t wake anyone else up.”

Blacklight scowled, blinking something that Della couldn’t translate. She knew a little of the lightbulb’s language, but not enough to keep up in a conversation. When she didn’t answer they blinked their message again, slower. 

“I guess I’ll try not to wake him up either, if that’s what you’re saying.” she grumbled. Reaching down over the chaise she gently ran her hand down his side, a small act of comfort that had her wrinkling her beak in disgust. The Mad Ducktor shifted, whimpering again. 

Della didn’t want to take it any further, but she caught sight of Blackight’s scowl and knew not to try to wake the Mad Ducktor up. If Blacklight was anything like the Mad Ducktor or even Lil’ Bulb, then Della would be in big trouble if she went against their wishes. 

So she let out a grumbling breath and began making soft shushing noises, continuing to run her hand down the villain’s side. She’d had plenty of practice with this in comforting her kids, but it felt different when she tried to comfort someone who wanted her kids dead. 

The Mad Ducktor shifted one more time before going still, a shaky breath escaping him as Della felt him relax. She ran a hand down his side one more time before retreating her hand back, waiting for a moment to see if he was really asleep. 

“What was that for?” 

Della looked up at the whisper, it’d come from the Mad Ducktor. She’d failed in keeping him asleep after all. “Just to make sure you didn’t wake anyone else up.” She said, walking around to the front of the chaise. 

“You could’ve just woken me up,” the Mad Ducktor pointed out. His eyes were still closed, and he still looked half asleep.

“Believe me, I would have, but your lightbulb told me not to.” Della grumbled. 

“Hmph.” The Mad Ducktor said, getting more comfortable. 

Della rolled her eyes. “So you're welcome for being more considerate. What did Gyro do this time?” 

“Poisoned me.” The Mad Ducktor said through a yawn. “He needs to come up with better methods, he’s used that one twice already.” Then he broke off, frowning and opening one eye. “...But I fall for it every time.” 

“How does the connection work?” Della found herself asking. She really should go back to sleep and stop conversing with a criminal, but she was curious. “Does he send you specific dreams?” 

The Mad Ducktor reached up, rubbing one eye with his right hand. Della noticed that he’d slept with his left hand mostly tucked underneath him, clearly so he would wake up if anyone tried to take his prosthetic. That’s when Della realized that Blacklight acted as a guard for it as well. They didn’t need sleep, and could wake the Mad Ducktor if anyone got too close. “No, what happens is one of us has to fall asleep wanting to tell the other something. Then it’s up to the receiver’s mind to find a way to interpret that.”

“So he’s really just saying he wants you dead and then your own mind finds ways to kill you?” Della clarified. 

The Mad Ducktor rolled his eyes. “Oh it sounds just lovely when you put it that way,” he grumbled. “Yes, that’s what happens.” 

“Can you tell him to stop?” 

That earned a snort. “Yes, but that wouldn't help anything. He’d probably just do it more somehow if he knew how much it was affecting me.” 

“He really kills you every night?” Della asked, part intrigued, part horrified. “You have to go through that?” 

The Mad Ducktor nodded. “I wake up about right when I ‘die’, and I mean it’s all my mind’s interpretation because I’ve obviously never actually died before- well, metaphorically I have, but not physically- but yes. Quite often several times a night because I’ll fall back asleep.” 

Della’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?” 

“Why do you care?” The Mad Ducktor nodded. Blacklight sat down against his chest, still eyeing Della, and the villain’s hand came up to rub at the robot’s lightbulb. 

She scowled, looking away. “I don’t,” she muttered. 

“Hmm hm.” Della wasn’t looking at him, and she could still feel the Mad Ducktor’s smug smirk. “Then why are you asking about it?” 

Della rolled her eyes, letting out a breath. “Because I was curious, okay? Gyro never talks about this, so I don’t know anything about it.” 

The Mad Ducktor lifted his head slightly so he could see her better. “Why doesn’t he talk about this? Don’t you guys talk all the time? You’re still like best friends or something, right?” 

“We are,” Della said, letting out a breath. “We just… we fight over you. Gyro-” 

“Oh, really? I’m flattered! I’d choose Gyro though, sorry Dels.” 

Other than throwing him a murderous glare, Della decided to ignore that comment. “Because Gyro defends you and says he knows you better or something, and I want you put somewhere you’ll never escape. So every time you’re brought up we argue, and because of that we’ve just agreed not to talk about you, or about anything related to you. Which includes the mental connection.” 

The Mad Ducktor hesitated. “Gyro… defends me?” 

Della gave him a snide grin. “He did, but I don’t think he will now.”

It was a direct dig at him, but he barely seemed to notice. “What… What does he say about me? H-how does he defend me?” 

Della waved a hand, pretending not to care. “Oh, just saying that you’re wildly misunderstood or something, I can’t remember anymore, I was too busy arguing with him to pay attention.” In reality she wondered why the Mad Ducktor cared so much. Gyro would passionately defend him and what he’d done- though Della knew part of that was due to Gyro’s stubbornness- so why wouldn’t the Mad Ducktor know Gyro would do that for him?

“Hm,” the Mad Ducktor dropped his head back down, yawning again. “Well good night, Dels.” 

She scowled at the name. “Why do you call me that?” She asked. “You know I’m not your friend.” 

“Exactly,” he said, his eyes closing. “It’s just to annoy you.” 

“Thanks,” she grumbled. 

“You’re welcome!” He said cheerily, eyes still closed as Blacklight finally relaxed next to him. 

Della shook her head. “Good night, Mads.” 

“Call me that again and I really will kill you,” he threatened in the same cheerful tone, not opening his eyes. 

Della snorted and went back to her cot, sitting down on the edge and looking back at the Mad Ducktor. He looked asleep already, but Della knew it was impossible for him to fall asleep that fast. She’d have to remember that he was strangely good at pretending to be asleep.

She laid down, thinking. Would Gyro still defend Mads in this? Most likely not, since it directly affected him, and it was obviously a huge betrayal. 

But Fenton and Archimede had defended him to her once since Gyro had been hit by the ego machine. Why would those two defend him? Was he really worth defending? 

She lifted her head, looking at the two of them. Fenton was curled in on himself, looking so much smaller than usual by himself on his cot, and Archimede was sleeping neatly on his back, his hands on his chest with Donald cuddled right up next to him, an arm over the blond bird’s stomach. 

Those two knew Gyro better than nearly everyone else, and they still chose to defend the Mad Ducktor. 

They were also a few of the small number of people who really knew the Mad Ducktor personally. 

Della’s gaze turned back to the villain, studying him as she thought. Maybe, if those two and Gyro thought he was worth a chance, then he might just be worth a merciful thought. 

Then again, the Mad Ducktor hadn’t been trying to kill those three and their families from the start. 

Della sighed, letting her eyes shut. It was all too complicated to figure out right now. 

—

“So,” Mads took a giant bite of his muffin, flopping down in a chair next to Archimede. “What’s with Donald?” 

Mads had easily fallen back to sleep last night, after talking to Della. He’d thankfully slept dreamlessly- Gyro must’ve been awake- and hadn’t woken up until nearly an hour after everyone else was up. They’d all gone to work without him, leaving Mads to dig through whatever was left of breakfast by himself. 

Miraculously, a few muffins had been spared. 

“What do you mean?” Archimede asked, brushing the crumbs Mads sprayed off of the table. 

“I mean he spent the entire night cuddled as close to you as he could possibly get,” Mads said. The statement was accompanied by a rather large swallow, and another big bite of muffin. 

“Mads, you’re getting crumbs everywhere- he did?” Archimede asked, brushing away more crumbs and looking up at him. 

Mads nodded. “He had his arm around you and everything. Besides, there was the way he went and got you some water yesterday. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that excited over water.”

“What does that mean?” Archimede looked back down at the piece he was working on. It was one of the fingers for the robot’s giant hand, he had another finished one sitting on the table next to him. 

“I mean I think he likes you.” Mads said, smirking. 

“Of course he does, we’re friend-” Archimede suddenly broke off, whipping his head up to look at Mads. “Wait, you mean like that?” He asked, sounding shocked. He looked across the lab to where Donald was trying to help Huey put something together. It wasn’t working, and the duck was clearly getting angry. 

Mads smirked. “I think he’s got it bad.” 

“Donald?” Archimede clarified, clearly confused. “No way. He’s just… being nice.” 

“Oh really? Look, his face is going red over there. I bet that will clear up in a half second if you go over there to help. I’ll bet you a muffin on it.” 

Archimede raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure he can figure it out.” 

“He will, but this is a test now, come on!” Mads nudged him, then tilted his head over to where Donald and Huey were standing. “Go over there, I dare you. I’ll count. Half a second.”

Archimede rolled his eyes. “We don’t have time for this, do we?” 

“No we don’t, but it’d be fun to see.” Mads said, finishing his muffin. He glanced over Archimede’s blueprints, before getting to work on the other half of the finger Archimede was building. There were enough pieces scattered around to start. “Come onnnnnnn I dare you. Look, he’s just getting angrier…” 

Archimede didn’t look up. “He can figure it out.” 

“Yes, but you can help and make it go faster… all while proving my point!” Mads told him. 

The blond bird sighed. “No, not right now.” 

Mads shook his head, disappointed as he leaned against Archimede, resting his chin against the blond bird’s shoulder as he worked. Archimede barely seemed to notice the contact, he was used to it from Mads. “Fiiiiiine. But what do you think? Do you like him back? Are you gonna break his heart?” 

“Break his hear- what?” Archimede glanced up at Donald, who had at last gotten the two pieces fitted together and was handing them back to Huey. “Why on earth would I do that?”

“Well, if you didn’t like him back… so you do like him?” Mads smirked, his head still resting on Archimede. 

“I… don’t know, I can’t think about this right now.” Archimede grumbled. “Not when we have so much to do and worry about.”

“Aw but it would be so fun if you broke his heart!” Mads said. “Go on, completely turn him down and leave him bitter- then I could rub it in his face for you! Wouldn’t that be amazing?” 

“Wha- no!” Archimede looked at him. “Why are you like this? Maybe I will go out with him, just to spite you.” 

Mads laughed, leaning in closer to Archimede. “Whatever makes you happy,” he said, letting out a breath. 

Archimede studied him, then glanced up at Donald for a moment before looking down at his work. He couldn’t help the faint smile that crept across his beak. 

—

“Alright, here’s a thought-” 

Fenton jumped, looking up. He was standing at the coffee maker, refilling his mug and he hadn’t heard the Mad Ducktor walk up, and had just seen him jump up to sit on the counter out of the corner of his eye. 

“-I know you don’t want to dye your hair any crazy colors, but what if we made it darker?” The chicken suggested. “That might look nice.” 

The duck shook his head. “You’re back to talking about this?” 

“Why not?” The Mad Ducktor shrugged. “What do you think? If you’re not going to do purple or pink then at least consider that!” 

“Why do you want to dye it at all?” Fenton asked. “Aren’t I dashing as it is?” He asked teasingly. 

“Oh, yes, of course you are, this is why we have to dye it.” The Mad Ducktor said, crossing his legs. Blacklight was sitting on his shoulder, and they mimicked his pose. “You can’t go around looking this stunning, we’ve got to change something.” 

Fenton looked at him, a confused smile on his face. “So you’re saying we should dye it so I don’t look as good?” 

“You’d still look good, you’d just be less heartstopping.” The Mad Ducktor pointed out. “I thought you of all people would want to stop heart attacks.” 

The duck rolled his eyes. “You’re calling me heartstopping?” 

“Of course! In an entirely platonic way, obviously. We’re both taken.” 

Fenton held back a chuckle. “By the same person?”

“Yes, by the same person!” The Mad Ducktor looked almost disappointed that Fenton had even asked. “Sure, he may be yours but I’m still his. Always have been, always will be.” 

“And what happens if you meet someone else you like?”

“Then he’ll be mine and I’ll still be Gyro’s.” 

“But if Gyro’s mine then doesn’t that make all three of you mine?” Fenton asked, jokingly going along with it.

“Naturally,” the Mad Ducktor said, casually studying the joints on his prosthetic hand. 

The duck laughed, picking up his mug. “You’re in a strangely good mood,” he pointed out. 

The villain shrugged. “Not really.” He sighed, turning his head to stare out one of the lab windows. “But sometimes it’s worth it to pretend, even for a minute.” 

His moment of sadness was gone in a flash, before Fenton could even react. The Mad Ducktor leaned forward, his chin resting on his hand. “But anywayyyyy how are you? How’s the coffee?” 

Fenton looked down at his mug. “Okay, I guess.” 

“You or the drink?”

The duck grinned. “You know, you always turn out to be better at reading people than I expect you to. How? Gyro’s gotten better, but he’s still terrible at it.” 

The Mad Ducktor waved a hand. “Oh, you know, you have to pick up things when you’re hunted by just about every living person. Just the slightest change in tone or behavior can mean something totally different, so I have to be good at reading them.” 

“When did you pick that up?” 

“Eh, somewhere. It took a while. Anyway. So. Your hair?” 

Fenton rolled his eyes. “I’m not dying it. Besides, we don’t have time for that right now!” 

“Well of course we don’t right now, but maybe sometime afterwards?” The Mad Ducktor asked, looking hopeful. “Come on, it would look fantastic!” 

The duck sighed, turning away. “You can’t talk me into this.” 

“We’ll see!” The Mad Ducktor called as Fenton walked away. Fenton snorted. 

Sitting at his desk, Fenton looked up to see the Mad Ducktor still sitting on the desk near the coffee table, talking to Blacklight about something. The duck snorted again, shaking his head before returning to his work. 

Several hours later the lab was dark, only one of the lights had been turned on in the corner of the lab. Nearly everyone was asleep, only Fenton, Della, Boyd and the Mad Ducktor were still up working. 

“So we’ve got one of the arms put together already,” Fenton said, looking over what they’d done. “That just leaves us with… three days to put everything else together.” 

“Is this really going to be possible?” Della asked. 

Boyd thought. “At this rate, we should be able to finish it by the time our six days is up. But that’s assuming that we’ll even get six days to do it.” 

“Then we’ve just got to work faster,” Della said. She was starting on another arm, building off of the hand that Archimede had already put together. “Come on guys, where’s your determination?” 

“Mine was lost six nightmares ago,” the Mad Ducktor muttered. Blacklight was sitting next to him, and Fenton didn’t miss the way they reached over and patted the chicken’s arm. 

“So… yesterday?” Fenton asked, unable to help himself. 

The Mad Ducktor didn’t look up from what he was working on, but he snorted. “Just about.” 

Still, they threw themselves at their work with newfound vigor. Della and Fenton occasionally struck up a small conversation here and there, but they died out quickly. The Mad Ducktor and Boyd seemed so enveloped in their work that they didn’t appear to hear the other two. 

Once Fenton started yawning frequently enough that his eyes were watering he figured it was about time to turn in. “Should we go to bed now?” 

“You can,” the Mad Ducktor said. 

Della looked over at what he was working. “What if we finish what we’ve got right now, and then all go to bed?” 

“Yeah, we have to get as much finished as we possibly can.” Boyd reminded them. 

“Hmmm, that works.” Fenton said. He was still putting together the foot he’d built, and would likely finish it within the next ten minutes. Then he could get some rest. Boyd was right, he had to squeeze in as much inventing time as he possibly could. 

“I’ve never stayed up this late working on purpose before,” Fenton said, almost to himself. “I guess this is what it’s like for Gyro.” 

“But he’s always by himself,” the Mad Ducktor pointed out quietly. 

“If he’d work during the day then he’d have people with him, no need to make it seem more difficult than it is.” Della countered, looking up at him. The villain didn’t look at her, just continued working in silence. 

“Still. The lab this late is so serene,” Fenton said, looking out the dark windows. “I’ve been here during the night before, but never for this long. It’s strange.”

“It gets too quiet though, with everyone gone. It’s so empty.” the Mad Ducktor said in almost a longing sigh. Fenton glanced up at him, surprised. The villain seemed to miss the slip and he quickly backed up, his face going slightly red. “A-at least that’s what Gyro thought. He still thinks, surely.” 

“Makes sense,” Fenton agreed. It did get strangely quiet. Without people talking, or Boyd singing, or Lil’ Bulb up to some sort of mischief. 

That thick silence spread itself over the darkened lab once more. 

There came a clatter, and suddenly the Mad Ducktor leapt to his feet, throwing his screwdriver down on the floor. “That’s it!” 

“What?” Fenton asked, startled. From next to him Della and Boyd looked just as surprised as he did. “What’s it?” 

The Mad Ducktor was grinning, taking a few steps back. He’d been putting together parts of the chestplate, and had thrown them down in his excitement. “I finally figured it out! Oh that’s been bugging me for ages.”

“What?” Della asked, sounding alarmed. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot about the mental connection lately, you know because of my nightmares.” The Mad Ducktor began, pacing back and forth. “And every time I have a dream from Gyro it has its own weird feeling that I swear I’ve felt before. I just chalked it up to a strange dream déjà vu, but I just realized what it was!” 

The subject was entirely random, but it immediately had Fenton’s attention. “What is it?” 

The Mad Ducktor stopped pacing to look at him, more genuine excitement on his face than Fenton had seen in a long time. “Remember when you and I almost killed each other in the snow?” 

Fenton wasn’t sure where he was going with this. “...Yes?” 

“And how before I regained consciousness afterwards I kept having these weird fits where I’d scream something?” 

“Yes?” 

“That was from the mental connection! I have felt it before I ever got a dream from Gyro!” He grinned, looking quite proud of himself for putting it together. 

“What? How?” Della asked. “He was making you do that?” 

“Yes, but not intentionally.” The Mad Ducktor explained. He was so caught up in his new revelation that he didn’t even seem annoyed to be talking to her like he always did. “I was picking up on his worry and fear for Fenton and I, and that made me worried and afraid. Because it was directed at me as well.” 

“Woah, do you think that’s it?” Fenton asked as the idea hit him too. 

“Wait, but I thought it only worked when both of you were asleep?” Della said, still sounding confused.

Fenton hesitated. “She’s right. Right?” 

“It’s only worked like that so far.” The Mad Ducktor said. “I still can’t explain why it happened while he was awake, but I swear it’s the same feeling. And it makes sense, because those feelings were directed at me!” 

“So he was accidentally using the connection before either of you knew what it was?” Fenton asked. “That’s cool! Incredible!” 

“I know!” The Mad Ducktor grinned at him. “I’ll have to test it with him sometime…” he trailed off, becoming more somber. “If he wants to.” 

“Are you kidding?” Fenton asked, trying to cheer him up. “It’s an experiment! Of course he’d want to test it!” In truth he had no idea if Gyro would, but in that moment he hated how quickly the excitement left the chicken’s face.

The Mad Ducktor smiled at him, sitting back down. Blacklight, who had been thrown backwards when the chicken had jumped up, glared at him. “You think so? Oh, sorry, Blacklight.” 

Fenton nodded. “I mean it’d take him a while to get past… all of this, but I bet one day he might want to if you can prove yourself to him.” 

The Mad Ducktor sighed. “I’ll try.”  

Chapter Text

Oh blathering blatherskite. This is it. 

Mads wasn’t surprised to find himself shaking. He wished Archimede was sitting there with him, instead of down on the street below. 

The sun was setting behind the buildings, glaring off of the nearby windows and darkening the sky to a foreboding blood red. The day had finally arrived to meet with Gyro, and everyone was on edge. 

There was a hotel just across the street from the bank, and they’d booked a room just for its perfect view down to the front of the bank. Everyone was cramped in the small room, and it felt even more squished with Gizmoduck. Donald, Huey, Dewey and Webby were crowded at the window, with Mads, Gizmoduck and Boyd standing back so Gyro wouldn’t see them in case he looked up and spotted them. 

But from back here Mads couldn’t see what was happening, and that made him feel even more suspense. He was sitting back against the headboard of the room’s single king bed, staring at the wall in front of him with his arms wrapped around himself. Blacklight stood on his knee. 

“They’re standing on the bank steps,” Donald said from the window. “I haven't seen Gyro there yet.” 

“I hope this works,” Gizmoduck said quietly. Mads nodded, his heart in his throat. 

“Oh- is that Gyro?” Dewey stood up taller, trying to see down further into the street. Mads almost winced at the words. Part of him hoped that Gyro wasn’t coming, that they could put off interacting with him as long as they possibly could. 

“I think it is,” Donald said, squinting. “He’s got on a hoodie and a beanie, it looks like.” 

“To hide his hair,” Mads observed quietly. And in this weather, it was just what everyone else was wearing as well. It wouldn’t look out of the ordinary. 

Gizmoduck was leaning up against the wall opposite Mads, next to the TV. Mads couldn’t see his expression behind his visor, but he did see the way the armor tensed when Donald said that Gyro had arrived. Boyd was kneeling next to him, and he looked up in interest. 

“Now what’s happening?” Gizmoduck asked. 

“It looks like they’re talking…” Webby said, leaning so close that her beak was nearly pressed against the window. “Gyro hasn’t done anythin-” she broke off with a gasp. 

“What? What is it?” Gizmoduck demanded urgently as Mads whipped his head to the side to look at them. “What happened?” 

“Gyro had this watch with like… tentacles that came out of it.” Huey explained. “They were only out for a second, and they hit all of them in the back. It didn’t look like it hurt, but it was just unexpected.” 

“Why would he do that?” Dewey inquired, looking up at Donald for an answer.

“Checking to make sure none of them are me,” Mads figured, relaxing back against the headboard. While his injury was doing much better, a sharp jab in the back would most definitely aggravate it. 

“Now what?” Gizmoduck asked anxiously. 

“They’re still just talking…” Donald said. “Archimede just about swooned…” 

“He must’ve told them it’s the Mad Ducktor he wants,” Boyd said. He was staring at a spot on the floor, Mads figured he was using his heightened vision to see through the building to the scene unfolding on the steps of the bank. 

Mads’ right hand slid up his arm, instinctively unlatching his robot hand. He was just about to take it off when he felt a small hand resting on his knuckles, and he looked down. 

Blacklight had intervened, a worried expression on their bulb. “Don’t,” they blinked hesitantly. “Please.” 

Mads let out a long shuddering breath, pulling his hand back on and letting it drop down onto the bed beside him. Blacklight offered a supportive expression, before leaning forward to hug Mads’ chest. The Mad Ducktor smiled faintly, reaching his right hand up to rub at their bulb for a moment before picking them up and moving them to his shoulder. 

“I wish we could hear what’s happening,” Webby muttered, still closely watching. They hadn’t dared to send the others in with microphones or cameras, in case Gyro took offense to that. 

Boyd squinted at the ground. “They’re too far away and there’s too much traffic, I can’t hear them either.”

“Are they still talking?” Gizmoduck asked. 

The ducks at the window nodded, and Mads drew his legs up to his chest. He couldn’t stand just sitting here, waiting. The suspense was killing him, and for a moment he wished he was down there at Gyro’s mercy instead of sitting curled up here. 

They’d realized going in that Mads might be their own bargaining chip. If Gyro got ahold of him, then there was no way they had something to trade for Scrooge. So if it came to a battle here, Mads wasn’t allowed to take part in it. No matter how much he may want to. 

The anti-ego machine was sitting on the nightstand, small and unassuming there in the corner. Closest to Mads because it was his only way to fight back. He couldn’t hurt Gyro, and could only run if Gyro came after him. The ray was a little piece of leverage. 

Donald spoke. “Mrs. B just nodded… and I think they’re leaving. Yeah, Gyro just walked into the bank and now they’re coming across the street.” 

“Yes!” Webby exclaimed excitedly, pumping her fist in the air. “We did it!” 

“We don’t know yet,” Gizmoduck warned. “Gyro might not have given us those extra two days. They might come to tell us that they want him now.” 

“That means we fight, right?” Dewey clarified. Gizmoduck nodded. 

Two minutes later there came the sound of the key in the door, and Beakley, Archimede, Della and Louie stepped in. Dewey and Huey ran forward to embrace their brother, and Beakley shut the door behind them. 

“What’d he say?” Boyd asked eagerly, jumping to his feet. “Did he give us the two days?”

Archimede let out a breath, he looked more shaken up than the rest of them. “He gave us the two days,” he confirmed. 

“Oh thank Selene,” Gizmoduck breathed. Mads felt a wave of relief wash over him, the tension leaving his body as he sighed. Blacklight reassuringly patted the side of his neck. 

“But why?” Huey asked, his arm still around Louie. “Strategically, that doesn’t make sense. Why would he give us more time to prepare to face him? Wouldn’t he want to strike while we’re not ready?” 

“For a moment it looked like he wasn’t going to,” Beakley admitted, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Mads felt it dip by his feet under her weight. “But Archimede told him that the Mad Ducktor hadn’t recovered well, that his horrible nightmares were keeping him from getting better. He seemed rather delighted to hear that, and he easily gave us the two days.” 

Mads yawned, an effort to make himself relax. “Good thinking bringing up the nightmares,” he congratulated Archimede. “That seems especially important to him.” 

Archimede smiled gratefully. The room quickly dissolved into conversation, all of them trying to figure out what to do next. Mads sat on the bed, still resisting the urge to take off his robot arm and fidget with the feathers on his arm. 

He watched, frowning slightly as Donald made his way over to Archimede, obviously expressing his relief that Archimede had made it. While Mads couldn’t make out what they were saying in the loud room, he could see the grin that broke out over Archimede’s face. He didn’t miss Donald reaching out to reassuringly take Archimede’s hand. 

Mads growled under his breath. 

But as Mads watched, Donald got distracted by Dewey asking him a question, and Archimede gave the duck’s hand a squeeze before pulling away. He walked along the bed, kicking his boots off to come sit against the headboard next to Mads. 

The Mad Ducktor grinned. “Hey,”

“Hey,” Archimede said quietly, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Mads. The villain leaned against him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Mads assured him. “I was just worried about you. Are you okay?” 

Archimede let out a breath. “I’ll be fine.” He said cryptically. Mads wasn’t sure if he should push him on that, or leave him alone. 

Thankfully, Beakley’s announcement saved him from having to decide. “Alright,” she said, standing. “Gyro told us to meet him at this time in two days, next to the bridge out to the Bin. So we have two days to finish that mecha and find a place to hide it where Gyro won’t see it.” 

“It’s waterproof,” Mads offered, slightly hesitant to call attention to himself while he was cuddled up so close to Archimede. It felt a little vulnerable. However, only a moment later he realized that he didn’t care what they thought of that. “We could hide it in the bay under the bridge.” 

Beakley nodded. “That works. Now let’s go, we don’t have a moment to spare.” 

Mads’ sleep schedule was utterly deteriorating before his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Between the nightmares and staying up late to work on the mecha he hardly slept, but he didn’t even have time to worry about it. 

Archimede tried a few times to get him to rest, but Mads just waved him off. They had to get this done if they wanted a fighting chance against Gyro, and even with the extra two days it was still up in the air on whether or not they’d finish it. 

On the morning of the day they were set to meet Gyro, Mads finally collapsed. He was used to staying up longer than this, in fact he had more times than he could count, but between the stress and his recovery from being stabbed he couldn’t take it anymore. He managed to get in six hours of dead-asleep rest before Archimede woke him up, telling him they’d finished the mecha and there were only four hours left until they were supposed to meet Gyro. 

Mads sat up. “It’s finished?” He asked sleepily, rubbing his eye. 

Archimede nodded. “We put it together in the vault, we didn’t know if it would be able to get out of here once it was all assembled.”

He was right, something like that would not have fit in the elevator. Or the stairwell. 

“Should we go see it? Does it work?” Mads asked, standing. As he did a blanket he hadn’t noticed slipped from his shoulders, and he just managed to catch it. 

Archimede took it from him, folding it back up as they talked. “No, the Ducks were… very adamant about you not being allowed in the vault. And yes, Fenton’s testing it right now, I think everything works.”

“Oh thank Selene,” Mads breathed. “Do you have a car? I need to go to Gizzy’s house to pick up a few things.” 

“No, but I think we could take the limo.” Archimede set the folded blanket down back on the desk as Blacklight jumped up onto Mads’ shoulder. “What are you getting there?” 

“Clothes,” Mads told him with a smirk. “And makeup.” 

There was no way he was facing Gyro looking like this.

Archimede drove the limo over to Fenton’s house, where Mads punched in the passcode to the garage and they got inside that way. The Mad Ducktor had stashed an extra set of his usual outfit in the back of the hall closet, and it wasn't long before he was back in his usual cloak, jacket and gloves. There were an extra pair of rocket boots there too, and Mads grinned at the way they clicked against the tile in the bathroom and the kitchen. He fixed his hair and makeup using supplies he’d stashed in the bathroom, and swapped his hand out for one of the dozens that Gyro had confiscated from him. 

“How do I look?” He asked as he stepped out of the hallway with a flourish. 

Archimede had been sitting at the kitchen counter with Blacklight, and the two looked up as Mads entered. 

“Amazing!” Blacklight blinked. 

“Incredible as always,” Archimede told him with a smile. 

“Moving my left arm still hurts sometimes,” Mads admitted, walking to the counter. “But I think I’ll be okay. Especially with these boots, that will make getting around much easier.” 

Archimede nodded. “Makes sense.” 

“Oh, can I get my lasso and choker back?” Mads asked. “Do you know where those are? Those might come in handy if we fight Gyro. He’s specifically targeting me, so if I look like someone else then it might give me a better chance.” 

“I’ll see what I can do with that,” Archimede told him, standing. “Are you sure the Ducks will let you have all of this anyway?”

“No,” Mads told him, fixing the position of his glove. “But I’d like to see them try and take it from me.” 

“Where did you get all of that?!” 

The first thing Mads and Archimede were greeted by when they stepped out of the elevator into the lab was an annoyed Della, marching over to them. Mads stuck his tongue out at her. “Gizzy’s.” 

“You had all of that at my house?” Fenton asked, looking over Mads’ attire. “Where?” 

“I’ll never tell, then you’ll find it!” Mads said with a smirk. “So the mecha works? Who’s driving it? Me?” 

Beakley shook her head. “No, we need all the people who can really fight for themselves to be separate. So that’s you, Gizmoduck, Boyd and I. Anyone else can take the mecha.” 

“The kids could do it!” Della suggested. “They might be better protected inside of it, and that way we could have four people fighting back against Gyro’s AI.”  

“Oooh! Yes!” Webby exclaimed, jumping down from one of the desks. “Please, Granny? Pleeeeeeaaaase?” 

Beakley let out a breath. “Alright. But if anything happens then Donald, Della or Archimede needs to take over, got it?” 

Webby nodded resolutely, and Dewey grinned. “I get to drive the mecha?!”

“You do indeed, dear Dewford.” Webby told him with a bow. They ran off to tell the other kids. 

 “So is there anything else we need to do?” Donald asked.

“Just hide the mecha in the water across the bridge, go over the plan a thousand more times, and wait.” Beakley told him. 

“That last one will be the hardest part,” Archimede muttered. Mads agreed.

A few moments later, Beakley pulled Mads aside into one of the corners of the lab. Her voice was strangely hushed, and she looked around before she spoke. “I have something for you.” 

“What is it?” Mads asked, surprised. Blacklight peeked out from his hair, they were clearly interested as well. 

Beakley passed him the golden lasso and the voice-modifying choker. “Well first, I thought you may need these. I don’t know how well they would take it knowing I gave it to you, so keep it on the down-low, would you?” 

Mads grinned, taking the objects. He clipped the lasso to his belt before slipping the choker into one of his pockets. “Oh I will. Thank you.” It’d gotten much easier to say that to her over the last few days. While Mads knew he should’ve thanked her more often, he was still surprised at how often he’d already said it. 

“And there’s one more thing,” she said, pulling something small from one of the pockets of her apron. Small enough to fit easily in her closed fist, she passed it to his hand. “I don’t know how you’d use it, but it may come in handy.” 

Mads forced his face into a neutral expression as he walked across the bridge. The wind blew his black coat out to the side, giving it a look that Mads knew was imposing. Della walked behind him on the left, with Archimede on his right and Donald behind them. 

His heart was pounding, but he knew how to hide it. 

The sun was setting to their right, glinting off the water of the bay and making the water sparkle. It was nearly blinding, and Mads was grateful that they didn’t have to look that way. 

Beneath their feet, beneath the bridge, beneath the waves, their twenty-foot tall ticket to victory waited, unseen. 

None of them complained about the long walk. Nor that it took them nearly three minutes to walk across the bridge at the pace they were going. The longer it took them, the longer they could put off facing Gyro and possibly fighting him. 

Blacklight was hidden in one of Mads’ pockets, one of the many in his coat. The little robot was just small enough not to be seen, and with the way Mads’ coat flapped in the wind it made them even more invisible. 

This felt heartbreakingly familiar. The last time he’d walked across this bridge at sunset to meet his enemy had been almost three years ago, and it’d been with 2-BO behind him to act as his enforcer as he collected Scrooge. 

Mads still wondered what it would be like if that plan had worked. If he had succeeded in capturing or killing all of them, where they would be today. None of the Ducks would be here still, surely, but what about Gyro? Or Fenton? Or Archimede?

Would Gyro have lasted three years as miserable as he would’ve been without his friends and family? Would Mads have just seen Gizmoduck, and by extension, Fenton as a threat to be taken care of? Would he have destroyed the duck? What about Archimede? He couldn’t have fought back as well as the others, where would he be now? Heartbroken and just trying to get by, or would he have ended up dead like the rest of them?

At long last, they made it to the end of the bridge, finally standing on real ground. 

Archimede let out a breath. “This is it,” he said nervously. 

“Just remember,” Mads assured them, “We’ll have Gyro back by the end of the night.” 

The three birds behind him nodded. 

Della held a finger to the earpiece in her ear. “We’re in position,” she whispered. “Are you?” 

Silence. 

She looked up at them. “They said they’re all ready. So far there’s been nothing wrong with Boyd or Gizmoduck, so Gyro likely isn’t going after them. Now we just have to wait for him to show up.”

As if on cue, there came a loud thud from down the road. 

The four of them froze, looking up. The ground beneath them shook slightly. 

There came another teeth-rattling thud. The four of them stared, Mads was trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. Somewhere down the street, hidden behind Duckburg’s sky-high city buildings. 

Several more thuds. 

“Dio mio, it’s footsteps,” Archimede breathed, eyes widening. 

Mads swallowed. Of course it was. 

Almost at the same moment they realized it, the thing came around the bend. 

Mads reached up, adjusting the darkness on his glasses just enough that his eyes couldn’t be seen. He didn’t want Gyro to see the fear in his eyes as the mecha got closer, its footsteps rocking the ground. 

“It’s huge.” Donald whispered. 

It was easily twice as tall as the one that they’d spent the past week building, and so wide that it seemed like its shoulders would scrape the buildings on either side of the street. It was black and shiny, with a huge round chestplate and long thick arms and legs. Mads couldn’t help but think that their mecha wouldn't stand a chance against it. 

The four of them managed to stand their ground as it approached, it came to a stop about fifty feet from them. Mads took a few steps back to stand next to Archimede, craning his neck up to look at the ginormous robot. 

“Was that the blueprints you had for yours?” Archimede asked him quietly. “I thought you said you were planning on using the original parts. Those wouldn’t fit something like this…”

“He must’ve revised it.” Mads figured. “I don’t know how he got that done in time though.” 

Suddenly the small head-like hatch popped open, and a figure jumped down from inside of it. It fell several feet, before boosters on the bottom of its shoes powered on, catching it just in time. 

Gyro smirked as he hit the ground. 

From behind him, Mads could hear Donald gulp. 

The inventor took several steps forward until he was standing only ten feet from them, the smug smirk never leaving his face. Something small moved behind him, and Mads’ eyebrows raised when Lil’ Bulb popped up, coming to sit on Gyro’s head. He’d forgotten about the little robot, who now sported a glowing red light bulb as he glared at all of them. Mads felt a faint buzz against his back, and knew that Blacklight had noticed the robot as well. 

The five of them stood there for a moment, before Gyro broke the silence. “I asked you to bring the clone unarmed.” He said disapprovingly. “I could see his weapons from nearly a mile off.” 

“H-he insisted,” Della took a step forward. “I’m sure you know fighting with him gets exhausting quickly.” 

While annoyed at other people’s habits of talking like he wasn’t there, Mads nearly smiled at that. Clearly his efforts to be as difficult as possible were paying off, if Della was complaining about them to Gyro.

Gyro’s gaze moved from Della to Mads, eyeing him like he could see right through Mads’ dark glasses and see the whole fearful look that Mads was trying to fight. “He only is if you know how to show him his place.” The inventor’s smirk grew. 

Mads glowered at him, sticking his jaw out in annoyance. 

But Gyro wasn’t done yet. “Tell me, clone, how have your dreams been lately?” 

Mads shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Oh, you know, just dreaming of being poisoned and pushed off of the Bin. The greatest kinds of dreams, you know?” 

Gyro laughed. “I suppose that depends on the person. I assume you won’t let me see your eyes so I won’t be able to see the bags beneath them? We all know that yours become awful when you don’t sleep.” 

Mads reached up, changing the tint on his glasses just enough that his eyes were visible. “No, it’s just bright out right now. The sun on the water, and all. You know how sensitive my eyes are. I usually darken them at this time of day, haven’t you noticed?” It wasn’t entirely a lie. 

“Right. Della said you’ve barely slept.” 

“Della likes to exaggerate things.” 

“Hm. And how’s your arm?” 

“Better than you think it is.” 

Gyro grinned, his glasses flashing in the light. “We’ll just have to see about that, shall we?” He stuck out his arm. 

Remembering what the Red Nephew had said about Gyro’s watch having tentacles, Mads reacted at almost the same time. He brought his hand up, powering on his laser fingers and slicing the tentacles in half before they even made it halfway across the distance. 

The four black arms hit the ground with a metallic clang, the wires sparking for a moment. 

Gyro scowled. “What was that?!” He exclaimed, glaring up at Mads. “How did you even know they were there?!” 

Mads smirked. “Word gets around.” He wasn't sure if he should tell Gyro about hiding out in the hotel room, the inventor might get mad at that and snap. They all knew they were at his mercy right now. 

The inventor growled. Mads could almost see him searching for something to use to get under Mads’ skin, after the nightmares and the injury hadn’t worked. “Alright then, clone. How does it feel to just be an echo of me?” 

Mads knew he shouldn’t make Gyro mad. He really did. What would work best here was Mads going along with it, pretending to be hurt and broken when Gyro brought that up. After all, as far as Gyro knew, he’d completely mentally scarred Mads with his clone talk. 

But the Mad Ducktor’s pride wouldn’t let him. 

He burst out laughing, nearly doubling over with mirth. The others eyed him, looking unnerved as he cackled. But as Mads caught a glance behind him, he couldn’t help but notice that Archimede was on the verge of a smile. 

Finally Mads straightened up, taking his glasses off and wiping at the tears of laughter forming in the corners of his eyes. “Oh, you’re still trying that, huh? Get with it, Gyro. That doesn’t bother me anymore. You can’t touch me.” 

Gyro glared. “Oh, really? What about how the Mad Ducktor is still just a part of me, and by copying that you’re therefore-”

Mads rolled his eyes, moving his hand in the shape of a mouth and talking over Gyro. “-just copying you, yeah yeah, you’ve told me already. But don’t you remember? Gyro spent nearly a year trying to prove that he wasn’t the Mad Ducktor. So it’s just what I’ve said all along.” He looked Gyro right in the eyes, his expression turning challenging. “I’m. Not. Him.” 

“No, but-” 

“-But what?” Mads demanded. “But I still have his body? What’s that got to do with anything? That I’ve still got his memories? Well guess what, they’re his memories, not mine. I’ve still got his mannerisms? That comes with his body. I’m sure that when we get the real Gyro back, he’ll tell us that he isn’t the Mad Ducktor. You’re just saying this to make me feel bad, and it’s not working.” 

“If you still have his- my memories, then that means you’re still me!” 

“Oh, I really don’t think so. So what if I remember what it was like for you to be a kid? It doesn’t mean that I existed yet.” 

Gyro scowled, but he was clearly grasping at straws here. He knew the conversation was shifting into Mads’ favor, and he didn’t like it. “Yes you did, because you were- you know what? I don’t have time for this,” he growled. He turned to Della. “Give me the Mad Ducktor, now.” 

“He’s right here,” Della said, waving her arm. 

Mads smirked at Gyro. “Come and get me, why don’t you?” 

Suddenly he felt something strike the back of his knee, hard. He cried out as his knee gave way, making him fall forward and land hard on his shins. The asphalt bit at his skin, and he squawked. 

His arms were wrenched behind his back, and before he could even fight back there was a hand sliding up his left arm, quickly unlatching his left hand and letting it hit the ground with a thud. Mads struggled, only to feel something digging into the injury on his back. He cried out again. 

A voice spoke in his ear. “Here he is. Now give us Uncle Scrooge.” 

Della. 

From behind them came sounds of a struggle, and Mads glanced back to see that Donald had come up behind Archimede, pinning his arms behind his back. “Wha- what are you doing?!” he demanded, trying to struggle free. “What is going on? Cos'è questo? This isn’t the plan!” 

Gyro raised an eyebrow, a satisfied smile on his beak. “Oh? And exactly what plan was that?” 

Archimede ignored them. “What is going on?! Cosa stai facendo?! Donald, let go of me!” 

“I’m sorry,” Donald said, managing to hold onto the blond bird. He looked surprisingly strong, Archimede was struggling quite a bit. 

Della wrenched Mads’ beak around, forcing him to look back at Gyro. “Eyes forward,” she growled in his ear. With that she reached down, quickly yanking his boots off. 

“What on Earth are you-” 

“This is the best way to get Uncle Scrooge back,” she said, her voice low. “I’m not letting you ruin a family that I wasn’t there for for ten years. I’m here to fix that, and that starts with getting rid of you.” 

“No!” Archimede squawked, still fighting. “No, non puoi! Gyro will kill him Della, you don’t understand-” 

“Really? Only a week ago he was ready to kill all of us.” Della countered, not looking back at him. “Just because you’re the exception doesn’t make the rest of us lucky. We have to do what we can to survive.” 

“But we had a plan that worked-” Archimede argued. “We could do this without killing anyone!” 

“Oh yeah?” Della asked, her hand digging further into Mads’ back. He yelped. “And how many of us would get injured in the process? This way we can give the villain what he deserves and get Scrooge back.” 

Archimede grumbled, managing to get one wrist free from Donald. “Lasciami andare- let go!” He shouted, twisting around. But Donald caught a hold of his wrist, holding on to it tight. “If you really care-” 

“Don’t try to guilt him into this!” Della growled. “He’s doing what you should be doing and not siding with the person who wants us all dead!” 

“I am trying to make sure that no one here dies!” Archimede said. 

Della ignored him, wrenching upwards on Mads’ arms and forcing him to his feet. Mads gasped, she’d twisted his left arm back too far and a jolt of pain shot through his injury that she was still digging her fingers into. She shoved him forward, sending Mads staggering towards Gyro. He covered his beak in shock.

The inventor grinned. “Welcome back, clone.” 

Chapter Text

All Archimede could do was stare in horror as Mads staggered over to Gyro. Too in shock to properly fight back against Donald, he just gasped as the inventor lashed an arm out to drag Mads closer by the throat. 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. They had a way to keep Mads alive and get Gyro back tonight, and this wasn’t it. 

Archimede could hear people yelling over his earbud, shouting at Della to stop, but he hardly heard them. Della was clearly ignoring them as she watched Gyro and the Mad Ducktor, her fists clenched. 

Gyro wrapped his arm around Mads, clamping him close to his side so he couldn’t go anywhere. Mads looked like he was greatly in pain, and he gasped as Gyro’s arm constricted around him. 

Suddenly there came a low buzz and something launched itself from Mads’ coat, and Archimede caught sight of an angry flash of purple flying towards Gyro’s face. However it was quickly intercepted as Lil’ Bulb leapt forward, and the two lightbulbs hit the ground hard in a glow of red and purple. 

The impact cracked Blacklight’s bulb, but they were immediately back on their feet. They jumped towards Gyro again, but they were hindered by Lil’ Bulb once more. Lil’ Bulb quickly kicked Blacklight back, taking the fight as far from Gyro as he could. 

“Bring them to me when you’re done, Lil’ Bulb.” Gyro said, watching them go. He looked back up at them. “Is this all?” 

“Tell us where Uncle Scrooge is,” Della growled. 

“Oh, right, I was supposed to do that.” He moved to turn away from them, an arm still tightly wrapped around Mads. “He’s locked in the old broken down warehouse right next to the edge of the mansion’s property, I’m sure you know the one. He should be fine.” 

Della nodded. 

That’s when Mads began violently struggling, trying to force himself away from the inventor. Gyro grabbed him with two hands, but not before the Mads managed to get a hand free. 

Archimede watched, almost in slow motion as Mads brought his hand up to Gyro’s face before the inventor could stop him. Could he hit Gyro? Was that something his clone loyalties would let him do?

The blond bird’s eyes widened as Mads’ hand landed on Gyro’s neck, dragging him downwards. 

Then Mads was kissing Gyro. 

What the hell?!

Gyro’s eyes widened, and he fought to pull back, to free himself. But Mads only pressed him closer, seeming to kiss him harder. 

Archimede’s jaw dropped as Gyro’s eyes fluttered shut, and the inventor seemed to lean in to it. What in Selene’s name was going on?! Weren’t these two enemies? Had it been a set-up the entire time? Had Mads been faking everything?” 

But as Archimede watched Gyro seemed to lean in a little too much, breaking the kiss as he fell right past Mads and just about collapsing. Mads straightened up and managed to catch the inventor before he slipped to the ground. 

By now Archimede could tell that Gyro was completely unconscious. 

Mads swept him up into his arms, glaring at Donald. “Donald, let go of Archimede before I laser your head off too.” 

Archimede felt Donald’s hands quickly retreat. Mads’ gaze turned to Della, utter anger and hatred in his eyes. “Della, give me my hand and boots back.” 

“What the hell just-” 

“Give them back.” He hissed. 

Della frowned, tossing them so they landed at Mads’ feet. The Mad Ducktor gently set Gyro down before picking up his hand and clasping it back on, then bending down to put his boots back on. 

“What just happened?” Donald asked, sounding just as confused as Archimede was. 

“Fast acting sedative,” Mads grumbled as he pulled his shoes on. He sounded understandably angry that Della and Donald had gone against their plan and put him in danger. “Beakley gave it to me before we left. That was the only way I could think of to get it to him.” 

“So it was in your mouth?” Donald clarified. The Mad Ducktor nodded, not looking up at him. “Ick.” The duck muttered. Archimede had to agree. 

The Mad Ducktor finished with his shoes, straightening up and walking over to where Blacklight and Lil’ Bulb were still fighting. Blacklight’s crack looked bigger, and Lil’ Bulb’s entire right arm was missing. Both of their lightbulbs looked badly scratched in several places. 

Mads bent down, picking up Blacklight. “Hey, I’m okay!” He assured them as they fought back, not knowing who had just lifted them into the air. 

Blacklight twisted around, their angry look turning to one of joy before they jumped out of Mads’ hand, landing on his shoulder and hugging the side of his face. Mads chuckled, before looking down at Lil’ Bulb. “What should we do with you?” He asked.

Lil’ Bulb blinked a few things that Archimede couldn’t translate, and the Mad Ducktor’s eyebrows raised. “I don’t think those are the greatest things to say to someone who has you hostage.” 

The little robot moved to scurry away, but Mads saw it coming and made a swipe at him before he did. He just managed to catch him, quickly lifting him up and switching him off before he could fight back. He stuffed the robot in his pocket before twisting on his heel to face all of them. “So. What the hell was that?!” 

Archimede turned to face Della and Donald as well. “Yes, what was that?!” He demanded."Cosa stavate pianificando voi due?"

Donald appeared more remorseful as he winced. “The way we had it planned out people were still going to get hurt… we just wanted to stop that from happening.” 

“By killing me?!” The Mad Ducktor exclaimed, taking a step forward. “And we had this worked out so people wouldn’t get hurt!” 

“Hey, you’re still alive, aren’t you?” Della asked with a shrug. “So that worked. And we couldn’t guarantee everyone would stay safe, so this way we can just take Gyro to the anti-ego machine and all of this can be over with!” 

“You didn’t know that would be the outcome!” Archimede pointed out. “I can’t believe the two of you would be fine with him dying!” 

That’s when Gizmoduck, Beakley and Boyd arrived, Beakley on Gizmoduck’s back as they arched down out of the sky to touch down gently on the ground. “What is going on?!” Beakley asked, storming over to them. “That was not what we were supposed to do!” 

“But it worked!” Della pointed out. “And this way nobody got hurt!” 

“Speak for yourself,” the Mad Ducktor growled. Archimede could see the pain in his movements when he moved his arms. 

The others broke out into fighting, Beakley further confronting Della as Boyd and Gizmoduck approached, the little parrot quickly rushing over to his father’s body. Archimede listened in to the argument before he sensed Donald stepping closer. “Look, Archimede, we just wanted a way to make sure we got out safe-” 

“By getting someone else killed?!” Archimede asked him. 

“It’s what he would’ve done-” 

The blond bird whirled to face him. While he didn’t mean to loom over the duck, he couldn’t help it that he was so much taller. Donald looked up at him with wide eyes. “Della goes on and on about how terrible and horrible and evil he is. So I don’t understand why you use that logic of ‘he would’ve done it’ if you think his evilness is below you!” 

Donald opened his beak, hesitated, then closed it. He looked away from Archimede, unable to meet his gaze. “I-I don’t know. I’m sorry.” 

“Besides, how were you even planning on getting Gyro back?” Archimede demanded. “If you gave him Mads and he gave you Scrooge, then what? When would we be able to confront Gyro again and get him back?”

The duck winced. “We hadn’t gotten that far yet…” 

Archimede let out a breath. “Of course you hadn’t,” he grumbled, his gaze turning back to where Gyro was collapsed on the ground. Boyd was next to him, a hand on his forearm. 

Donald stepped a little closer. “Would you ever forgive me?”

“I don’t know,” Archimede muttered, not looking down at him. He was too angry about this. He didn’t see Donald’s second wince. 

“But it’s over now, right?” Donald asked hesitantly. “It worked out and w-we have Gyro back, so everything can go back to normal!” 

“Sure,” the blond bird muttered, stepping away from him and more towards Beakley. “I guess so. Non posso credere che lo faresti-” he broke off, knowing there was no use in arguing more. 

He was excited to have Gyro back and for all of this to be over. He really was. But the way that Della and Donald had so quickly turned on them, that they had obviously been planning something else the whole time dampened the excitement. How was he supposed to trust them now? 

Archimede was seeing now that Mads was right for not letting them take his hand a few days before. Archimede hadn’t understood at the time why Mads was fighting so hard for it, why he couldn’t just trust Beakley when she said they wouldn’t turn on him. But now it became obvious. Mads never trusted anybody, and this was a prime example of why.

“How long were you planning this?” Archimede asked. So quietly it was a whisper. “Would you have turned him in sooner?” 

“Della-” 

“Don’t say it was all Della. Non voglio sentirlo.” 

Donald sighed. “We wanted to as soon as possible. But once he had his hand neither of us dared to approach him. Especially after he nearly killed Della over it.” 

“So he really was right to keep his hand,” Archimede whispered. He didn’t bother pointing out that Mads likely wasn’t trying to kill Della when he’d fought her for his hand. 

Donald swallowed. “I’m sorry.” 

Archimede couldn’t bring himself to reply. 

“Hey hey hey hey hey!” Archimede looked up to see Mads stepping in the way of Della and Beakley, who were still shouting at each other. Arms outstretched, he glared at Della. “We don’t have time for this, you can settle it later.” 

Beakley straightened up. “Right. While that sedative acts fast, it will only last for at most five minutes. Even then, that’s a bit of a stretch. We’ve got to hurry and get the anti-ego machine before Gyro wakes up.” 

“It’s in the mecha,” Gizmoduck pointed out. 

“I can get it!” Boyd offered, standing. He quickly leapt into the air, before zooming out over the water of the bay and then letting himself fall down into the waves. 

Archimede stepped away from Donald, walking over to stand next to Gizmoduck. “That was terrifying to watch,” the duck said quietly. 

The blond bird nodded. “It was.”

“N-not just the Mad Ducktor being taken in, all of it was. I-I don’t know why, but Gyro’s just so… scary like this.” 

“I think it’s because we’re all afraid he’s going to hurt someone,” Archimede wondered aloud. “And if someone gets hurt then… well they’re hurt, and then whenever Gyro gets back he’ll have to deal with the guilt of hurting them.” 

“So we’re afraid for ourselves and for him.” Gizmoduck said, putting it together. Archimede nodded. 

The Mad Ducktor walked over to them. “Are you okay, Archie?” he asked, worry on his face.

Archimede waved a hand. “I’m fine. Are you?”

Mads shrugged. “My back hurts, Della was digging her fingers into it. But other than that I think I’m fine.” 

“You seem… less mad about this than I thought you would be.” Gizmoduck pointed out. 

“What, you were expecting her to not do something like this?” Mads asked. “She’s been out to get me for so long it was only a matter of time that she really went through with a plan to get rid of me. I’m just glad it worked out.”

“You were expecting her to turn on you?” 

“Not exactly, but it doesn’t surprise me. Trust me, I already have ten revenge schemes going.” 

Archimede rolled his eyes, a smile on his beak. “Of course you do.” 

There came a splash and they looked over towards the sunset, Mads reaching up to darken his glasses again. Boyd came rising up out of the water, dripping wet and holding a familiar object. “I got it!” 

“Good work, Boyd.” Beakley said, taking a step forward. “Who would you like to do it?” 

The little parrot’s expression turned resolute. “I-I want to, if that’s okay.” 

“Of course!” Beakley smiled at him, stepping aside. 

Boyd looked up at where Gyro was laying, then his eyes widened. “Where’d he go?” 

They all whipped back around and sure enough, the place Gyro had been lying only moments ago was now empty. “How did he wake up that fast? Where did he go?” Gizmoduck asked, looking around. 

Della and Mads glared at each other. “Are you behind this?” They asked at the same time. 

Boyd’s eyes zeroed in on the chest of Gyro’s giant mecha. “Got him!” He exclaimed, shooting up into the air. He whizzed behind the mech, and just as he did, Gyro appeared from behind it at the top. His glasses flashed in the light as he grinned. 

Then he slipped down into the mech, the top of the head sliding shut just as Boyd arrived. “No!” 

Immediately the giant robot whirred to life, its hand coming up to swipe at Boyd, who barely dodged it. As he did the anti-ego machine slipped from his hands, plummeting the forty feet down to the Earth. 

Mads acted in an instant. Powering on his rocket boots he shot straight towards the falling gun, managing to catch it only five feet from the ground. While they’d made the anti-ego machine extremely durable, it likely wouldn’t have survived a fall from that height. 

“We can’t fight it here, like this.” Beakley figured, taking the anti-ego machine from Mads once he’d rocketed back over to them. “Boyd!” She shouted. The little robot was flying circles around the mech, trying to avoid its swiping hands. At her call he stopped. “Go tell the kids we need our mecha now! We have to make it across the city to where Scrooge is!” 

The little parrot nodded, and was just about to shoot away when Gyro’s mecha finally caught up with him. Its palm hit him hard on the back, sending him flying forward with a yelp. 

“Boyd!” Gizmoduck exclaimed, leaping into the air to check on his son. “Are you okay? ¿Hay algo roto?” 

Boyd managed to right himself, nodding. “I’m fine, papa!” 

Mads jumped back into the sky. “We’ll distract him,” he told the birds still on the ground. “All of you get across town as fast as you can, we’ll buy you some time.” 

“We’ll never make it in time!” Donald exclaimed.

“Just steal a car!” The Mad Ducktor shouted down to them as he shot up into the sky. “I’m sure Scrooge will buy them a new one!”

—

Mads zoomed over to Gizmoduck as fast as he could. “Hey! Gizzy!” 

Gizmoduck looked back at him, he’d been watching the spot in the water where Boyd had disappeared. “What?” 

Mads drew up next to him. “You, Boyd, the mech, and I are all supposed to keep Gyro distracted for now while everyone else goes to get Scrooge. We don’t want this thing wreaking more havoc and walking all the way across the city, so we’re trying to keep it here and keep them all out of danger.”

Gizmoduck nodded. “I’ll tell Boyd.”

Mads looked back down at the ground, where Beakley, Della, Archimede and Donald were all running past the mecha. The huge robot bent over slightly too, watching them as they dashed between its legs. 

It was time to act. 

“Hey! Gyro!” Mads immediately shot off towards the mech, going as fast as he could towards its head. “Are you going to let yourself be beaten by a mere clone?” He shouted. With that he brought his left foot forward, the bottom of his boot making hard contact with the mech’s head. 

That’s all it took for the mecha to straighten up, and a loud voice boomed out from hidden speakers in the mech’s shoulders. “Ha! What are you going to do against me?” 

“Keep you distracted,” Mads muttered, not loud enough for Gyro to hear. He zoomed up higher in the sky, nearly out of reach of the mecha. “Any ideas, Blacklight?” 

The little robot had hidden down in the high collar of Mads’ coat, clinging on as tight as they could to the neck of Mads’ pink jacket. “Keep taunting him like this,” they suggested. While Mads’ couldn’t see their blinks, he could understand them by the way they buzzed. “Stay just out of his reach, too high for him to get to you.” 

“Alright, that works.” Mads dodged as one of the hands came up to grab at him, doding to the side. “Aw, really? You can’t catch me?” He shouted back down at the mecha. 

“I’ll get you soon!” Gyro announced back. “Just you wait, clone!” 

Mads took up a nonchalant position in the air. “Oh, I’m waiting. Are you gonna get me yet?” 

Another hand came up to grab him, and Mads ducked again. “You missed!” He shouted back down with a grin. “Really?” 

That’s when Gizmoduck and Boyd arrived, flying up next to him. “So far I’ve just been staying just far enough out of his reach that he can’t get me.” He told them. “He seems frustrated enough already.” 

“Our mecha is on its way,” Boyd said. Mads nodded. 

The three of them immediately began doding around the hands and arms, sometimes tauntingly flying in close to the body of the mecha before shooting away as fast as they could. When Mads glanced back down at the street, he saw no sign of the Ducks. Good. 

Mads shouted taunts and insults down at Gyro as he flew, and Gyro was clearly targeting him most of all. However he was always just fast enough, sometimes barely avoiding the hits on purpose, just to make Gyro even more frustrated. 

There came a huge sloshing of water from behind them, and the three of them launched themselves up high enough that they couldn’t be reached, before turning to see their mecha climbing up onto the bridge. 

While it was huge and awesome and clearly an astounding mechanical feat, it seemed small and weak compared to Gyro’s ginormous and thick monster of a mecha. 

Seeing it compared to Gyro’s was almost disheartening. 

“We… may need a better exit plan,” Gizmoduck muttered. Mads couldn't help but agree. 

There came a loud echoing cackle from underneath them. “Ha! Do you really think that thing stands a chance against me?” 

“Not really,” Mads grumbled. “I sure hope those four work together well, we’re really counting on it.” 

“Nobody works together better than them!” Boyd said optimistically. Mads just raised an eyebrow. 

The three of them watched, rising further into the air as the mecha finally came to stand on the bridge, bracing itself as the kids inside got a good look at what they were up against. Mads could almost hear their gulps.

“They’ll get torn apart!” Gizmoduck exclaimed. “We need a better plan!” 

“Gizzy, we spent nearly a week doing nothing but-” 

“I don’t care what we did! If they get hurt-” 

“Look, can we at least see how it goes?” Mads asked. He winced when he heard the sound of Gyro’s mecha taking a step towards theirs. “If we need to we can step in and annoy him again so they can at least get back to the bay.” 

Gizmoduck frowned. “I suppose so… Boyd, what do you think? Do you think they can do it?” 

Boyd held a hand to his ear. “They’re telling me they can do it.” 

The superhero let out a breath. “Alright… but we step in at any sign of trouble, okay?” 

Mads and Boyd nodded. 

They watched as Gyro’s mecha approached the much smaller one, the three of them nearly level with the top of the nearby buildings. Huey, Dewey, Louie and Webby moved their mecha a few steps forward to meet Gyro’s, wisely getting off of the bridge.

Gyro’s laughter echoed from the speakers once more. “This is ridiculous! Almost an insult, really. This thing is half my height and not nearly as durable! Like I said, you expect this to even be able to leave a dent in my armor?” 

“Oh yeah?” That was Webby’s voice, booming from the smaller mech’s own speakers. “Well we-”

“And piloted by children?!” Gyro cackled again. “Now that truly is offensive!” The huge mecha leaned back to look up at Gizmoduck, Mads and Boyd. “Let me guess, you put them in harm's way just to save your own skins? Thought you’d sacrifice the children while the rest of you got away?” 

Gizmoduck moved forward. “He’s right, we shouldn’t have-” 

Mads reached out, putting a hand on the armor’s shoulder to stop him. “No. We just need to see how it holds up.” 

“Before what? We risk ourselves?” 

“No, before we end up giving up on the thing we spent the last week building! Just wait!” 

That was enough to keep him there, for now. The three of them watched with bated breath as the mechs took the final steps towards each other. Side-by-side, this looked even more hopeless. 

The smaller mecha aimed the first punch.

—

“Faster faster faster!” Della banged her fist on the back of the driver’s seat. “We have to make it there in time!” 

“I’m going as fast as I can!” Beakley countered, gripping the steering wheel tightly. They were currently rocketing through the city streets of Duckburg, going twice as fast as they should’ve been and nearly causing several accidents. However, with a robot fight going down only a few miles away, most people had already deserted the streets. 

Archimede was clinging to anything he could get his hands on in the passenger seat, eyes wide and closely watching the road as Beakley drove like she had nothing to live for. “Car!” He screeched as someone pulled out in front of them. 

Beakley swerved around it, a horn blared, Donald fell out of his seat, Archimede nearly threw up, and they were back to their former position, arrowing down the middle of the road. "Merda," Archimede grumbled under his breath.

“Do you think they’re holding up okay?” Donald asked. “That mecha was huge, I don’t know if the kids stand a chance!” 

“Well, Gyro hasn’t come after us yet, so they’re probably still fighting.” Beakley pointed out. “And Gizmoduck, Boyd and the Mad Ducktor would step in if the kids were in danger.” 

“Just Gizmoduck and Boyd would,” Della muttered. 

Archimede saw Beakley frown, but she clearly didn’t have the added mental ability to argue with her right now. 

They made it to the warehouse in only five minutes, it was on the edge of both the woods surrounding McDuck Manor and the edge of Duckburg city. It was old and redbrick, with the windows boarded up. In addition to a basement it had three stories, with several holes in each of the floors. 

Beakley kicked in one of the boarded-up side doors, and they all filed in behind her, looking around warily. 

“Uncle Scrooge?” Della called, looking around. This floor appeared empty. A hole in the middle of the room stretched down into the dark and dismal basement. “Are you there?”

Donald echoed her. “Uncle Scrooge?” 

“He’s likely been gagged,” Beakley figured. “Come on, we need to look around more.” 

Fortunately that wasn’t too hard, as there were holes in many of the walls, leaving much of the other rooms visible. They split up, each of them wandering off alone in hopes of finding the old billionaire. 

Archimede slipped into one of the side rooms, peering around. Its only occupants were a family of spiders and their dead flies, and he decided to leave them alone and continue on his way. 

A few minutes later they met up back where they’d started. None of them had found anything. They decided to move up to the second story, but with the entire elevator missing somehow and the wooden stairs rotting and caved in, that proved easier said than done. 

Beakley carried Donald and Della up, hoping to make less trips and put less continuous strain on the thin boards. They creaked as she went up and one snapped just as she moved, but she made it. 

Archimede looked up the staircase and gulped. 

“Come on!” Donald called encouragingly from the top. “You can do it!” 

Beakley put a hand on the duck’s shoulder. “You wait here for him, Della and I can get started on searching.” With that they left the stairwell, leaving Donald and Archimede alone. 

Donald looked back down at Archimede. “Look! Some of the stairs are broken, but with your long legs getting over them will be easy-peasy!” 

Archimede nodded. “Y-yeah, I can. But what if one breaks?” 

“It won’t! Come on!” 

Archimede still hesitated. 

“Come on, you’ve got just as good of a chance of the floor crumbling away in one of the rooms out there as you do with one of the stairs snapping in here!” 

Archimede frowned at him. “Not helpful.” 

The duck winced, shooting him an apologetic smile. “Sorry.” 

The blond bird took a deep breath and slowly made his way up the stairs, wincing every time one creaked beneath him. He kept his hand tightly gripped around the railing, praying that it at least would be able to support him if the ground fell out beneath him. 

He’d made it to the second to last step when it crumbed beneath him, and Archimede fell forward with a squawk. He flailed, trying to grab onto anything to keep himself from falling. 

Donald lunged forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Archimede and pulling him back. But the blond bird’s weight was too much and he collapsed, and Archimede tumbled down on top of him at the top of the stairwell. 

“S-sorry!” Archimede exclaimed, scrambling off of him. But his hand slipped, and he ended up falling right back down on top of him. "Scusa, non avevo intenzione di cadere su di te-"

“It’s okay!” Donald assured him, helping him sit upright. They knelt next to each other, Archimede out of breath, Donald’s face red, likely from being squashed. “You made it!” The duck exclaimed encouragingly. 

Archimede offered him a strained smile, his heart was still pounding from the panic of nearly falling. “Yeah. I suppose I did.” 

“I knew you could!” Donald put a hand on his back. “Are you okay?” 

The blond bird nodded. “Sì. Just… shocked.” 

The duck stood, reaching down a hand to pull Archimede to his feet. The blond bird shakily stood, tightly gripping Donald’s hand. “R-right. Let’s go help them find Scrooge.” 

By then Della and Beakley were nearly done, and they’d seen no sign of Scrooge. After officially determining there was no one on this floor, they braved the stairs once more to get up to the third floor. 

“Could he be on the roof?” Della asked as Beakley carried her and Donald up the stairs. Archimede followed a few steps behind them, praying that the boards wouldn’t snap this time. They made it to the top without incident, and searched the third floor. 

This floor had clearly been used as an office, as there were many winding halls with dozens of rooms splitting off of them. Archimede carefully noted every corner he turned, not wanting to get lost in this creepy abandoned maze with its nests of spiders and rats. 

At one point he passed a room that he thought he saw Scrooge in, but with a second glance it was just Donald again, peering into one of the closets to make sure that his uncle hadn’t been left in there.

“Is he there?” Archimede asked softly, already knowing the answer. 

The duck shook his head. “No.” 

The two left the room together, walking side-by-side. Donald tried to start up a conversation. “L-look, I’m sorry about what happened with the Mad Ducktor-” 

Archimede held up a hand. “I can’t hear that right now,” he said quietly. “Sorry. I’m still too upset.” He didn’t want to end up yelling again. 

Donald ducked his head. “Okay. S-sorry again.” 

Archimede didn’t respond. He hated being this cold towards Donald, but he didn’t know what else to do. He’d already had to deal with such a big betrayal from Mads, it was shocking to have one come from someone who he least expected. While Donald’s reasoning for doing so made some sense, Archimede was too angry to talk about it. 

They found Beakley and Della a few moments later, and in the end decided that the third floor was empty as well. 

Which just left the basement. 

The four of them made it down the stairs with only one step breaking beneath Beakley, but she managed to leap down to the next step and catch her footing just before she tumbled all the way down. Archimede followed closely behind her, holding his breath in anticipation for most of the way.

At last they finally made it to the dark basement, filled with half-built walls and old crates which contained who-knew-what. The spiders and rats had run rampant down here in the dark, and Archimede shuddered when he heard hissing. He stuck as closely to Beakley as he possibly could. 

“Part of me hopes he isn’t down here,” Della muttered, looking out into the darkness. 

Archimede couldn’t help but agree. He wouldn’t wish being tied up down here in the damp dark decay on anyone. 

This time they didn’t split up. They stuck as close to each other as they could, and Archimede gripped the nearest hand to his when he heard a squeak close by his ear. 

It was Donald’s, and Archimede was surprised to find himself unwilling to let go. So he just held on tighter, hoping that he wasn’t squeezing the blood from the duck’s fingers. 

“Uncle Scrooge?” Della called hesitantly. 

Nothing. 

“Maybe he isn’t down here?” Donald asked, almost hopefully. 

“Then where would he be?” Della asked. “Why would Gyro lie?” 

“To trap us?” Archimede suggested. His words hung empty in the air, all of them too afraid of their reality to reply.

They emerged from behind one of the unfinished walls, stepping out into a more open part of the floor. The ceiling above them had caved in, letting light filter down in from above. 

Laying in the middle of the lighted part, his arms and legs bound and his beak tied shut, was none other than the Richest Duck in the World, Scrooge McDuck. 

“Uncle Scrooge!” Donald and Della exclaimed, running to him first. At their approach his eyes opened, stretching wide in shock. He let out a muffled yelp as they collapsed to their knees next to him, quickly undoing the knot in the rope on the side of his beak. 

Archimede and Beakley walked quickly over to him, smiles breaking out over their beaks. “You’re alright!” 

“W-what are ye doin’ here?” Scrooge asked as Donald helped him sit up while Della untied his arms. 

“Gyro told us where you were, so we came to get you!” Della told him excitedly. “Now you’re safe and he doesn’t have anything to use against us!” 

“Ye shouldn’t have come,” Scrooge said, pulling away. “Ye have ta get out of here as fast as you can!” 

“Why?” Archimede asked. He could already feel Beakley tensing from next to him. 

“It’s a trap,” Scrooge said, his voice low. 

That’s when the hidden net beneath their feet closed up, wrapping around them and lifting them up to the ceiling.

Chapter Text

To say things weren’t going great was an understatement. 

The kids had done a good job fighting back, their smaller mecha was faster and they worked together to make it dodge and attack appropriately. Until Gyro’s mecha had finally caught hold of it and torn half of its arm off. 

That’s when Gizmoduck, Boyd and the Mad Ducktor had stepped in, trying to be a nuisance like buzzing flies around Gyro’s head. The inventor was having a hard time keeping them away while also fighting the kids’ mech, and it was obviously frustrating him. 

Then he’d finally given up fighting and just decided to try and hold the other mecha off while targeting the Mad Ducktor once again. 

That worried Gizmoduck, but the Mad Ducktor was proving that he could keep this up all day. He ducked, dodged and taunted the giant robot, hardly even seeming out of breath as he just barely avoided the giant’s grasp. The kids tried hard to attack while Gyro was distracted, but soon it became obvious that his mecha was much too durable for them to cause any real damage. 

“Should I try to lead him into the ocean?” The Mad Ducktor asked as he shot past Gizmoduck. The two of them simultaneously avoided another grab from the robot. 

“That would be smart, but I don’t want to risk Gyro getting trapped underwater,” Gizmoduck told him. 

“Do you think the Shoulder Blades would work on that thing?” The Mad Ducktor dropped down a few feet as the mecha swiped again. “If we could get you close enough you could just go grab him out of there.” 

“They might,” Gizmoduck said, taking a deep breath. “Here goes nothing.” 

With that he shot towards the mecha, smashing the chest of the armor into the small round head of the mecha. Spreading his arms out to cling onto its surface, he activated the Shoulder Blades and cautiously lowered them towards the mecha. 

The buzzsaws began to slice easily through the material, spraying dust in every direction. Gizmoduck grinned, pressing the blades in further. 

There came a yelp from behind him. “Gizzy, watch out!” 

Gizmoduck looked up just in time to see one of Gyro’s mech’s hands coming towards him, and the next thing he knew it was slamming against him, brushing him off. There came a crunch and shriek of metal as Gizmoduck’s arm and shoulder were crushed between the mech’s head and its hand, and Fenton cried out as he felt the metal crunching in on his arm. The next thing he knew he was the sensation of free-falling, before he hit the ground hard. 

—

“Fenton!” Mads exclaimed, watching as the Gizmoduck armor hit the street below, cracking the pavement. Boyd shouted for his papa at the same time, zooming down to check on him. 

Mads moved to follow, before remembering that Gyro was after him. He didn’t want to lead the inventor down to the others, especially when Fenton might be injured. 

So instead he backed up, sticking his tongue out at the giant mecha before him. “What, do you want me to congratulate you on getting Gizmoduck? You’ll still never catch me!” 

Mads could almost see Gyro’s scowl. “Just you wait, clone!”
“Oh I’m waiting,” Mads shot back. “I’ve been waiting for what? Fifteen minutes now?” 

“You’ll tire eventually!” Gyro told him. “I can do this forever!” 

“And what happens when I’m tired? I’m small, I can just leave. You’ll never find me.” 

Gyro laughed. “You’d rather run than stand and fight? Coward!” 

“That’s not really Gyro speaking,” Blacklight reminded Mads, still sitting in his collar behind his neck. 

“I know,” Mads said, holding back a scowl in Gyro’s direction. “I’m the coward?” he shouted to the inventor. “What about you? Holed up in that giant suit- why don’t you come out here and really face me, man to man?” 

“Because you can’t fight me,” Gyro told him smugly. “All you can do is try to get to me with sleeping pills.” 

Mads shrugged. “Maybe another kiss would get you to chill out,” he offered sarcastically. 

Suddenly the mecha went stock-still, its arms dropping down to its sides. In an instant, it looked like it’d powered down. The sun reflected brightly off of its chestplate, making it almost impossible to look at as it froze. 

Mads hesitated, wondering if Gyro really was going to get out, or if this was some kind of trap. He took the opportunity to glance back down at Boyd and Gizmoduck. The little parrot was trying to help Fenton out of the armor, the duck must really be injured. 

That wasn’t good. 

That’s when the mecha suddenly came back to life, bending slightly. “Well, it’s been fun, but I’ve got to go.” Gyro said. Mads watched in anticipation as the mecha slowly turned around, taking several steps back down the street. 

“Hey- we’re not done here!” Mads shouted, going after it. He made sure to stay high enough above it that it couldn’t reach him if Gyro decided to suddenly whip around and grab him. “Where are you going?” 

“I’ve got somewhere to be!” Gyro said, continuing down the street. 

Mads watched it go for a few seconds before turning back around, shooting over to their smaller mecha. “You go after him!” He shouted to the kids. “Don’t engage, just see where he’s going. I’m checking on Fenton.” 

“You got it, Mad Ducktor!” Webby’s voice came over the speakers, and the little mecha ran past him towards the larger one. 

Mads then arrowed down to the street, touching down right next to Boyd and Fenton. 

Fenton was lying half-conscious on the ground, Boyd was quickly tending to his right arm, which was covered in blood. The discarded Gizmoduck suit lay right next to them. “What happened?” Mads asked, taking in the horrifying scene. 

“When Gyro brushed him off his arm was ground between the mech’s head and its hand,” Boyd said, not looking up. “It was enough to crush the arm of the Gizmoduck armor in onto papa’s arm. It’s been broken.”

“Where’s the blood from?” Mads asked, falling on his knees next to Boyd. 

“It was a um… compound fracture.” Boyd said quietly. “I’ve managed to set it, but he’s still bleeding.”

Mads winced. A compound fracture happened when the bone snapped so badly that it pierced out through the skin. Mads couldn’t imagine setting one of those, just the thought of seeing one made his stomach churn. But instead of sitting there thinking of the gruesome details, he slid off his black coat, passing it to Boyd. “Use whatever you want from that.” 

The little parrot wordlessly took it, easily ripping strips off to wrap around Fenton’s arm. While he worked, Mads reached up to shake Fenton’s shoulder. “Hey Gizzy, you with us?” 

Fenton blearily opened one eye in acknowledgement, before gasping as Boyd moved his arm. The parrot winced. “S-sorry, papa.” 

Mads sighed, unsatisfied at Fenton’s response. The duck must really be in pain. With Boyd handling the injury Mads wasn’t entirely sure how to help, so he moved to sit up by Fenton’s head, lifting it gently into his lap before running his fingers through his soft brown hair. 

Fenton’s breath had been coming out in short gasps, and Mads felt him relax slightly as he continued brushing his fingers through his hair. 

“I didn’t let him look at it,” Boyd said quietly as he worked. “I-I didn’t think that would help, and I-I d-d-don’t know what to do n-next-” 

“You’re doing a great job,” Mads told the little parrot, looking up at him. Mads knew what his stuttering meant, and found himself trying to help. Boyd was still working, now trying to create a makeshift sling without making Fenton move too much. “We should probably take him back to the mansion to get taken care of.” 

“Okay,” Boyd said quietly. 

“Do you want to take him, or should I?” 

The little parrot just swallowed. 

Mads gave him a moment, continuing to run his fingers through Fenton’s hair. He hoped it had the soothing effect he wanted, but the duck was so tense with pain Mads couldn’t tell if it was helping. “Boyd?” he asked, prompting the parrot to speak. 

Boyd still didn’t look at Mads, just staring down at Fenton. “I-I don’t know, I w-w-want to t-take him back a-and make sure h-he’s okay b-b-but at the s-same time I w-w-want to help g-get dad b-back…” 

Mads thought, trying to come up with a solution to this. “Well, what if I take him back to the mansion and you go get Archimede to look after him? Archimede is a great caretaker, and that way he’s out of harm’s way too.” 

Boyd slowly nodded. “T-that works.” 

“Here, I’ll sit Fenton up so you can finish putting that sling on and then we can leave.” 

Boyd swallowed again. “Okay.” 

Mads slowly sat Fenton up, the duck leaning against him as Mads shifted slightly to the side to better hold him up. Boyd came around the back to finish tying the sling in place, then Mads stood, slowly lifting Fenton in his arms. 

The duck was heavier than Mads remembered- but Mads was still recovering from an attack and lifting Fenton was putting strain on his injury. He forced the doubt that he wouldn’t be able to make it to the mansion from his mind. He had to make it to the mansion. 

Mads then nodded at Boyd. “I’ll see you soon.” 

Boyd nodded back. “Yeah.” 

With that they both took off, flying next to each other for a moment before Boyd shot ahead to get to Archimede faster. 

Mads managed to make it to the mansion, but his arms were aching by the time he laid Fenton down on the counter of one of the first-floor bathrooms, letting the duck’s arm drape into the sink. He then gingerly washed the blood off, slowly undoing Boyd’s bandages and cleaning out the wounds. It’d stopped bleeding, and Mads had no idea if it needed to be stitched. 

He was rebandaging it with gauze when Fenton spoke, lifting his head slightly. “That was you, wasn’t it?” 

Mads didn’t look up, he was too focused on his task. “Hm?” 

“Running your fingers through my hair. That was you?” 

“Yes,” Mads finally tore the gauze strip, before taping it down. 

Fenton relaxed back against the counter. “I-I thought it was Gyro.” 

Mads finally looked up at him. “Sorry. I thought it would help, I wasn’t sure what else to do.” 

“It helped but…” he sighed. “I thought it was him.” 

The Mad Ducktor wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that, he hadn’t known how out of it Fenton had been at the time. He didn’t respond, picking up Boyd’s makeshift sling. “Can you sit up? How bad is it?” 

“I can sit up,” Fenton said, slowly lifting himself into a sitting position. “It hurts a lot though.” 

Mads helped him put the sling in place. “Archimede should be here soon, Boyd went to get him to help look after you. We’re in the mansion, and he should know better what to do with all of this.” 

“I wish I could go out there and help more,” Fenton said quietly. 

“Right now you can help by staying here and staying safe,” Mads told him. 

Fenton nodded. “Alright. T-thanks for taking me over here, Mad Ducktor.” 

Mads waved a hand, giving some kind of half-scoff. “Oh, this is getting ridiculous. Just call me Mads.” 

The duck smiled slightly. “Thanks, Mads.” 

—

Archimede soon found his back pressed right up against Beakley’s, his beak stuck through one of the holes in the net and his arms crushed by Donald. He yelped, squirming. “What is-” 

“It’s a net trap!” Della shouted before any of them could panic. “Now nobody move before you elbow somebody in the face or something.” 

“How do we get out of it?” Scrooge demanded from the other side of Beakley. 

“I don’t know, I’ve never been stuck in one with so many people in it.” Della said. Archimede could hear her from the other side of Beakley as well. “Does anyone have a knife?” 

“I’ve got a rather sharp hairpin,” Beakley said. Archimede could feel her trying to wriggle her arm up to pull it loose. “It’s cheap plastic though, I think it would snap before it did anything to these ropes.” 

“I could use the sharp broken end,” Della suggested. “Here, I think I can reach it.” 

Archimede felt a hand brush against his hair, and he jumped. The back of his head must be pressed against Beakley’s, as he could feel Della trying to get her hairpin loose. Finally she did, before wiggling her way up to the top of the net. 

There came the sound of brittle plastic snapping, and soon a familiar sawing noise. Archimede let out a breath, letting himself slouch against Beakley as he tried to get himself to calm down. It was fine, Della could get them out of this…

A few minutes passed. 

“How’s it going, Della?” Donald’s voice came from somewhere near Archimede’s stomach. 

“We’re getting there…” Della said. They could all still hear the plastic sawing at the rope. “I think this is just sanding down the hairpin more than it’s cutting the rope, but I’ve gotten through a few strands.”

There was a rope pressed right up against Archimede’s face, and he knew they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. ‘A few strands’ was hardly just piercing the rope. 

Donald wriggled. “Archimede-” 

“W-what?” Archimede tried to look down, but his beak got caught in the net. 

“I’m gonna see if I can wiggle to a more upright spot, the blood’s all going to my head. I-If that’s okay with you.” 

“Oh, of course!” 

“I’ll try not to elbow you!” The duck assured him, before wiggling against him. Finally he got upright, his back pressed against the net and his legs stretched out on either side of Archimede’s acting as a wedge to brace himself against Beakley. He let his legs collapse as he finally got into position, and the next thing Archimede knew was Donald was pressed right up close to him, his head just under Archimede’s chin and his ear against the blond bird’s chest. 

Archimede immediately went red as Donald sputtered. “O-oh, sorry, I can-” 

“N-no, it’s fine.” Archimede told him. He didn’t want to end up in even worse of a position if Donald tried moving again. This was manageable. “This is much more comfortable.” It was true. 

Donald didn’t respond, but Archimede could feel him smile against his chest. 

Several more minutes passed. 

“Any moment now, Della.” Scrooge grumbled. “Aye don’t think Ah’ve ever stared this hard at Beakley’s brooch before. Aye think Ah’ve found every shade of teal there is in it.” 

“I’m getting there,” Della said. Archimede could hear her gritting her teeth in concentration.

That’s when a small figure dropped down from the ceiling, landing on the ground by the net, just in front of Archimede. The blond bird jumped. 

“What was that?” Della asked. 

“What?” Donald and Scrooge said at the same time.

“Boyd?” Archimede asked, recognizing the little bird before him. “What are you doing here? What’s going on? Dov'è Gyro?”

The little robot’s eyes were wide, and something about him was shaky. “W-what happened to you guys?” 

“It was a trap,” Scrooge muttered. 

“But we found Uncle Scrooge!” Della exclaimed. 

“I can get you out of there!” The little parrot said, his enthusiasm sounding a little forced. He jumped into the air, flying to the top of the net. “Hold on!” 

Boyd held tightly to the ropes before cutting through them, then gently lowering the net down to the ground. Archimede sat up as soon as he was able to, Donald landing nearly on top of him. “What’s going on?” 

Boyd landed right next to him. “Dad’s on his way here,” he told them, his voice quiet. “He must’ve been alerted when the trap went off. But… but he hurt papa. The Mad Ducktor took him to the mansion to take care of him, I’m supposed to take Archimede to help.” 

“What happened to Fenton?” Della and Archimede asked quickly. 

“D-dad accidentally crushed the arm of the Gizmoduck armor while he was trying to brush papa off of the mech, and it crushed so far in that it broke papa’s arm. It was a compound fracture.” 

Beakley, Donald and Della winced. “What? What does that mean?” Archimede asked. 

“A really bad and gruesome break.” Beakley told him. “What happened then?” 

“I-I was able to set it and bandage it before I came to get you guys.” 

Archimede stood. “Take me to him.” 

After promising to be back, Boyd lifted Archimede and carried him to the mansion as fast as Archimede could stand. They rushed in, finding Fenton and the Mad Ducktor on the couch in the TV room. Blacklight was perched on Mads’ head. 

“Papa!” Boyd exclaimed, running to the duck. Fenton smiled, though it looked strained. 

“Boyd! You made it?” 

Mads stood as Archimede entered. “You’ll look after him, right?” 

“Of course!” Archimede gave Mads a quick hug, holding him tight. “Boyd says that Gyro is on his way to the warehouse.” 

Mads let out a breath, still holding onto Archimede’s hands as he took a step back. “I’ll go help them. You’re okay with staying here? I don’t know how much you wanted to fight, but Fenton really needs you here.”

“I understand,” Archimede told him. “I’m fine taking care of him.” 

“Okay. Boyd realigned the bone and it’s been bandaged and braced, I don’t know if he needs stitches or not. He’s got ice on it right now, I don’t know what kind of pain medicine to give him so I thought I’d leave that to you.” 

The blond bird nodded. “Great job, you two.” He looked over at Boyd, who was curled up on Fenton’s left side. He hardly looked like he’d heard. “How are you doing, Fenton?” 

The duck looked up, giving a strained smile. “I’ve been better. But I’ve also been worse, so that’s fine.” 

Archimede smiled. “Well that’s good.”

Mads squeezed Archimede’s hands before letting go. “I should go help. Boyd, are you coming with me or do you need a minute?” 

Archimede hesitated, looking between them. Mads almost never spoke directly to Boyd, especially since their current situation with the ego machine. Archimede knew Mads was trying to avoid the awkwardness of facing Gyro’s son, and only ever talked to him when completely necessary. Asking if Boyd wanted to come with him wasn’t a necessary question, and it left Archimede baffled.

The little parrot curled further against Fenton. “I-I need a m-min-nute.” He stammered. 

The Mad Ducktor nodded, before giving Archimede one last smile and leaving the room.

—

Thankfully Gyro’s giant lumbering mecha didn’t move very fast, which gave them all time to come up with a way to fight back. Mads found all of them gathered in the basement, huddled on top of a ripped net. 

Beakley looked up as Mads dropped through the hole in the ground floor and down into the basement. “Ah, you’re here. Where’s Boyd?” 

“He wanted to stay with Fenton for a minute,” Mads told her. He could tell that the little parrot was finally snapping under the weight of their situation, and he knew to give him space. 

Della suddenly cut between them. “I’ve got a plan,” she said resolutely. 

Beakley leaned back, crossing her arms. “Alright, hit us with it.” 

The Mad Ducktor scowled at her. “It had better not be me dying.” 

She looked up at him, grinning. “No. You’re the bait.” 

Just as Gyro could be seen coming down the street, Della shoved Mads out of the warehouse, following him. “If you would just listen-” 

Mads just managed to catch himself, tripping over his boots and barely landing on his feet. He whirled around, malice in his eyes as he faced Della. “What? While you try to get me killed?!” 

“It’s for the greater good!” Della insisted, marching towards him. He lunged at her, and she easily knocked him back. “Besides, you owe it to Gyro! This is your fault, and this is how we fix it!” 

Mads glanced over at where the mecha was getting closer, the smaller one in tow. His heart was pounding as he turned back to Della, forcing the rage into his face. “I don’t want to die for it though!” Mads pointed out. 

Della ran at him, grabbing his bow tie and pulling him towards her. He yelped, fighting back as she moved to punch him in the side with her free hand. “Too bad! This is the fallout of the mess you made!” She shouted in his face. 

Mads frowned. “Your breath stinks,” he muttered. 

She glowered. “Shut up.” 

He kicked her in her left shin, and she quickly let go of him. He dropped back onto his butt, just catching himself with his left hand before leaping back up onto his feet. The mecha was getting closer, and he quickly turned back to run to the warehouse. He’d be safer from Gyro there. 

But Della caught the back of his pink jacket as he rushed past. “Where do you think you’re going?” She asked. “I’m taking you to Gyro so we can finish this-” 

Mads whipped around, yanking the fabric from her grasp. “I’m not letting you get me killed!” he shouted. “You know full well that he’ll kill me if he gets the chance. Why can you not see that there are better ways to do this? That I don’t have to end up dead?” 

She shrugged as she advanced on him, he continued quickly walking backwards towards the warehouse once more. “There might be, but this is the one that works now.” She glared at him, and Mads could see the emotion in her face. “I just want my friend back.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to kill m- ack!”

He’d tried to turn and run for the warehouse, but Della had quickly caught up to him, jumping up and pulling him back by his hair. He fell backwards with a screech, nearly hitting the ground. 

Della stood over him. “Not yet,” she hissed. 

Mads jumped back on his feet, not daring to look at the mecha. He could hear it getting closer now, he could feel its tremors in the ground as it advanced. It was almost upon them. 

He stood in a defensive crouch, watching her every movement. “That doesn’t mean you have to kill me,” he said again. Almost prompting her to go on. 

“Yes, it does!” Della countered, eyeing him. “It’s the only way to get close enough to get him back. I’d much rather have him than you. That’s my best friend, and you’re the one who’s trying to kill us all!” 

“Oh, that makes me feel just wonderful.” Mads snarled sarcastically. “You’d prefer me dead?” 

“I haven’t made that clear enough?” Della shot back. She dove at him again, managing to grab him on the leg and pull it out from underneath him, so he landed hard on his back. He cried out, and she used her metal foot to stomp on his stomach.

Mads gasped, kicking her other leg out from underneath her and just managing to roll to the side as she landed. He shakily stood, clutching his stomach and staggering away from her as she got to her feet as well.

Mads glowered at her, taking several more steps back towards the warehouse. Heart pounding, he decided to stray into dangerous and uncharted territory. “Besides, you didn’t do a thing when you lost me as a friend!” 

Della rolled her eyes. “There’s no comparison! You did it of your own free will, and Gyro’s being forced to do this!” 

To a certain degree, she was right. But it still hurt to hear. 

The mecha was getting ever closer, and Mads wasn’t going to risk another moment out here with it. He lunged for Della unexpectedly, managing to shove her over before turning and running full-sprint towards the warehouse. 

Now this was the tricky part. 

He dashed around the corner, leaping over the hole in the floor before running as fast as he could to the stairs. He hesitated at the top for a moment, unsure, before finally running down them as fast as he possibly could. 

However he landed quite heavily on one of the boards, and it broke. Mads was sent flying forward, barely catching himself on his hands before tumbling all the way down the stairwell. He smashed up against the wall at the bottom, before collapsing in a bruised and broken heap. 

—