DuckTales One-Shots!

Hover

Donald couldn't quite place it, but something felt very off. But, his mind kept drifting off to who-knows-where every time he tried to figure out what was wrong with today.

"Donald, are you okay?" Frida asked. "You don't look too good."

"Huh?"

"I said, you don't look too good. Do you feel sick?"

"I...I don't know. I'm feeling kind of tired and..."

Donald coughed hard. Frida put her hand against his forehead.

"You're burning, my love," she said, leading him up to his room. "You need rest."

"I'll be okay," he mumbled as he felt himself drifting off to sleep. "I don't...need to rest. Must...take care...of the boys..."

"Donald, you have me, Scrooge, Della, and Beakley. I think they're fine."

"No...I can..."

He fell completely asleep and Frida carried him into his room. She put him down onto his bed, and sat next to him. She then used her telekinesis to make some medicine float up to her and Donald.

"Donny baby, could you wake up so I could give you some medicine?" she asked.

Donald continued to sleep. He couldn't hear her at all...

In his dreams, he was usually accompanied by the boys. However, in this one, he was alone in a field. Above him was a cloudless blue sky.

He suddenly felt himself going up towards it. His feet left the ground, and he was weightless. He could float anywhere he wanted.

He just kept floating up to the sky, though. He couldn't change his direction, and he swore that it was getting hotter. Perhaps he was sicker than he thought, and his fever was rising, giving him the feeling of intense heat even through his dream.

"Frida, wake me up, please," he called out. "Please...shout or something!"

He couldn't hear anything. He wasn't waking up. He kept pinching himself, hoping he would wake up and be perfectly alright. But, no matter what he did, he was trapped in his drifting dream.

"Frida!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

He felt drained of his energy, and everything began swirling around him. Was he fading away, never to wake again?

Maybe...maybe he was...

Donald abruptly sat up and started coughing.

"Donald, it's okay, you're fine," Frida said. "It's okay."

"What happened?"

"Your fever went way up. I had to bring in a pixie to bring it down. You're going to be okay."

Donald noticed a small glowing pixie wrapped around his wrist like a bracelet. It looked very much like himself; Frida did mention that these pixies could shape-shift.

"So, do you feel better, Donald?" Frida asked, picking up the pixie.

"Yeah, actually. I feel much better."

The pixie escaped from her grip and wrapped itself around Donald's wrist again. Suddenly, everything in the room began floating. Frida snapped her fingers and the room returned to normal.

"So, that's why I was floating in my dreams," Donald muttered, gently patting the pixie's head.

Frida checked Donald's temperature.

"You're okay," she said. "98.8."

Frida kissed him and stood up to leave.

"What about your pixie?"

"You can keep Esmeralda. She seems attached to you already."

"She?"

Esmeralda lifted up her little hat, and short hair and gold dust fell down. She squeaked happily and gave off a warm light.

Donald fell back asleep, as he was still feeling a little tired. Esmeralda joined him in his sweet dreams.