Scrooge's Best Friend

The Golden Spear

Author's Note: Three for three. This is a very short chapter though. I just wanted to get this one out since I will be busy for the next three weeks and I don't know how long it'll take for the big chapter of Della's return to be completed. I have now fed you guys enough for the wait. I will try my best though!

The drawing for this chapter is a little scary Richard standing behind someone and spooking them.

This chapter is short but very fuzzy and sweet. Hope you guys enjoy. Till next time :]

~

After the failure of resting outside and on his boat, Donald was forced to hide out in the mansion. His tired body instinctively walked down and weaved through the halls that would lead to a certain room he'd visited dozens of times before when searching for comfort.

He slipped inside the familiar bedroom that was filled with warm brown tones and royalty purple, sunlight shining through the window and shining the middle of the room. Wanting extra security, he hid inside the large closet, setting up his prescription hammock. He laid down and sighed as he closed his eyes.

Richard had finished another week of recording for the upcoming animated episode and decided to rest in his room. He weaved through the kids running around, waving and denying their invitations to join them, expressing his need to relax.

He shut the door behind him and took off his blazer, hanging it on the door's hook. He then hung his scarf next to it, remaining in his black, long-sleeved shirt.

His eyes roamed his room, sensing another presence. Had someone come in earlier and left? Or were they still there? His gaze landed on his closet door and he walked up to it, slowly and quietly opening it.

He was greeted with the back of a sailor's suit who was resting on a blue hammock.

He carefully approached the laying duck, not wanting to freak him out.

Donald picked up on the sound of footsteps and tensed, as if waiting for someone to ruin his peace.

"Donald? What's wrong, lad?"

Hearing his uncle's voice, his body relaxed and he laid on his back so he could look up at him.

Richard felt his heart pinch at the lack of feathers on the duck's head and chest, the rest on his body molting.

"Oh, my sweet boy..."

He gestured to the tag, "Doctor's orders."

The uncle reached for it and read the words on it. "'For molting relating to stress'."

"I've been trying to relax all day, but I end up having to watch out for the kids and help them. There was Huey and Webby with zombies, and then Dewey and Storkules with Zeus. I haven't had to deal with Louie or Scrooge yet. Probably would've if I went to Uncle Scrooge's room."

His heart broke even more at the duck's recap of the day. He softly rubbed Donald's head, kneeling down next to him. "So you came here."

Donald leaned into the touch, sighing. "I knew I'd be safe here. No one comes into your room during the day unless they know for certain you're in here. And, I just naturally walked to your room."

"You always came here for comfort as a child," Richard smiled. "All those nightmares and breakdowns, everything."

"I didn't have to worry if you found me. I knew you'd understand."

"And I do. You are in safe hands with me. Just stay where you are," he playfully poked his beak, "Your Uncle Richard is here to take care of you."

"My hero," Donald grinned.