DuckTales One-Shots!

Chicken noodle soup

Scrooge walked up the stairs, carrying a box of treasures to put away in a secret closet in his room. Della walked out of her bedroom. She was holding her breath until she reached Scrooge.

"Why were you holding your breath, Della?"

"Donald's coughing and sneezing all over the place. I think he's sick."

Scrooge gave the box to Della to put into his room, and he walked into the twins' bedroom.

Donald was laying on his bed, his face buried in his pillow. Scrooge poked him gently.

"Donald, are you okay, lad?"

"I feel sick. My chest hurts from coughing."

Donald sat up and coughed hard. Scrooge held his hand up to Donald's forehead.

"You're awfully warm. You're sick, all right. Just lay down and I'll have Duckworth make you some hot soup."

Scrooge sat next to Donald as the two of them ate chicken noodle soup. But, no matter what Scrooge did, Donald still looked reasonably ill. He didn't look any better than he did 2 hours before. Scrooge checked Donald's temperature with a thermometer, and his fever had gone down by only two degrees from its original 103.4.

"You poor thing," Scrooge said, picking up Donald and holding him, like a father would for his son.

Scrooge was having difficulty holding Donald, though; the kid was 15, after all. Yet, Donald was still as vulnerable, sensitive, and precious as he was when he was 6, when Scrooge first met the twins.

"I love you, Donald," Scrooge said. "And I would never want anything bad to happen to you."

"I love you, too--"

Donald sneezed three times.

"I love you, too, Uncle Scrooge."

The duo hugged each other tightly, and Scrooge ruffled Donald's hair. Donald fell asleep in Scrooge's arms.

Scrooge let Donald rest and he closed the door behind him as he left the room.

*Sorry if this sucked, this was kinda hard to do, because I suck at life, and because I couldn't think of anything better to put in here...*