Might Solve a Mystery, or Rewrite Hist'ry!

The Long Game!

I woke up, what felt like minutes later, to Beaks texting me. It was cute at first; he was making sure I lived. Then he wanted to know how I handled a missing shadow. Then he started telling me about his plan to get Gizmoduck to work for him. I had to threatened to post the video of him walking into the glass door before he stopped.

However, I couldn't go back to sleep, so I walked downstairs and made a traditional English breakfast. The kids still hadn't woken up and honestly, I wouldn't blame them if they slept till next week. I figured Scrooge would be up, dealing with the remains of last night, so I carried both of our plates upstairs to the study.

I opened the door, and Scrooge was on the phone. Scrooge glanced at me and motioned me to come in. I made my way to his desk. There seemed to be a ticking noise coming from somewhere, but as far as I knew, there wasn't a clock in the room.

I sat his food down on the desk and started to eat mine. He sent me a look but still didn't say anything. I listen to the conversation for a moment only to realize that it was about repairing the Bin. I quickly ignored it and started focusing on the room itself, the chips in the desk from years of wear and the burns in the carpet from some long-forgotten incident. It was all so familiar now. I wonder how the little dings and scrapes had been caused. I looked back at Scrooge when I heard his phone click shut.

"Ah, ____, I was hoping you would pop by for a visit," Scrooge said, tucking the phone into his pocket.

"I know you wanted to talk to me last night, but with everything going on," I shrugged and let the words hang in the air. The ticking noise seemed to grow louder.

"Yes, I had something I wanted to ask you about. The photo," he watched for my reaction, to see if he had to explain more or if I would explain without him asking, I wasn't sure. I nodded, though, to show that I know what he was talking about. "What would happen if the boys found that photo?"

I thought about what to tell him. That photo would rip his family apart. How could I tell him that?

"What did you do with it?" I asked hesitantly.

"What I do with it depends on what it does to my family." There was something unsettling in his voice.

"Destroy it," I said without hesitation. He seemed to relax but he wasn't satisfied. I sighed. "If you don't and the boys get their hands on it your family will be pulled apart from the inside out. They'll blame you for Della's disappearance. I couldn't stand to watch that. I just got a family. I don't want to lose it over some petty of fight."

I felt a tear roll down my face. He stared at me for a moment like he couldn't believe that I was this upset at thought of losing them. He sighed.

"____, I know that we will have to tell them one day but," he shook his head. "I can't believe they will hate me over it."

"Donald did." I dropped my gaze. I didn't mean to say it, but it was the truth. I stared at my food, suddenly nauseated.

"Ay, he did. I suppose it's for the best that I, what is that infernal ticking?" The noise was so loud that my eyeballs were vibrating.

"I think it's coming from the desk." I stood as he opened the drawer.

I sat the plate aside, and he pulled out the device I had given him for his birthday. As soon as he touched it, it admitted a wave of blue energy that made the world grey and froze him in place, like that day in the cave.

"Great," I mumbled and walked around the desk.

I went to pull it from his hands, but the door to the study made a creaking noise. I looked but there was no one.