Astro BOYD!

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A/N: Hahahahahha I'm not actually dead... just in everyway that matters. Sorry guys for the wait! 🥲

I woke up to a flailing Webby and I nearly got punched in the face before I could grab her arms. I pushed her into the bed softly, but she continued to struggle.

"It's just a bad dream. Wake up," I whispered. She didn't stop fighting. "Webby, it's me. Open your eyes. It's okay. You're safe."

She stopped fighting but did not wake up.

"You're okay. You're safe. I'm here." She fidgeted and her breathing settled from rough ragged gasps to soft puffs. I could tell she was awake. I let go of her arms. "It's just me."

"It felt so real," she sobbed. She shot up and hugged me.

"It's over." I ran a hand through her hair. She was trembling.

"I saw my dad die," she whispered. "I couldn't see his face, but it was him. I know it was my dad and he died."

I paused. After yesterday I didn't like the sound of that. It didn't matter now; right now she was upset. I needed to comfort her.

"Everything will be okay. What do you want for breakfast? Anything, name it." I asked.

She dried her tears and took a deep breath. Before she could speak, the door busted open.

"I hope you have a solid explanation for this!" Beakley was holding Della by the collar.

The ace pilot gave me a limp peace sign and mouth 'mission accomplished' slightly louder than she meant to. Though Beakley's poster changed considerably when she saw her grandchild in my bed.

"What's going on?" Her tone had only gotten harder.

Webby looked mortified. Her nightmare before she came to me was that we were all fighting, and she had been in the center. This probably wasn't helping her anxiety.

"Webby and I are talking about breakfast." Webby's eyes darted from her Granny back to me. Her breath sped up to an unhealthy level. I leaned down to her ear. "Me and Della made our own mistakes and now we have to fix it. It has nothing to do with you, princess."

I waited until she relaxed to lean away. She looked up at me.

"Banana pancakes?" she asked.

"Banana pancakes? Okay, but I'm also making regular pancakes for those of with normal taste buds." Webby laughed slightly. "Now go get dressed."

"I like banana pancakes," Della chirped as Webby ran by her.

"Nothing about you is normal, Della, but I'll make you some, too." I rolled my eyes.

"After we talk about the state, you left Della in." Beakley walked in and closed the door behind her. The woman scoffed and stumbled over to me.

"Don't mix milkshakes and whiskey," she repeated, then crashed on my bed.

"So you said," I scoffed.

Beakley looked at me accusingly.

"Della's grown. I didn't force her. Besides, Scrooge or you can fly the plane," I pointed out. "Give her some water and coffee and in fourteen hours, she'll be operational."

"She'd be operating at sub-par, but that's not what this is about," Beakley huffed.

"It isn't? Because it sounds like you were accusing me of her hangover. If that's not the case, then maybe you can enlighten me." Being smug with a woman that could kill me with a hug wasn't smart, but she was acting insufferable.

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