Duckshots!

The Truth Hurts! (Donald & Gladstone)*

2017 Ducktales
(Past!) Yandere!Scrooge x Donald
Gladstone & Donald
Part two of Depravity of Family Matters!

⚠️ Trigger Warning: ⚠️
Violence
Trauma/PTSD like symptoms

Huey twisted awake. Someone was shuffling around in their room. After a moment, his eyes adjusted to the poor light provided by the moon.

"Uncle Gladstone?" he whispered.

"Hey Red. Can you help me?" Something unusual was in his uncle's voice, but Huey couldn't place it.

"What are you doing?" Huey slid down the ladder.

"I need you to pack." He handed Huey a duffel bag. "When I walk out, I'm gonna lock the door. Only open it for me, okay? No one else."

Huey's brain was foggy, but he was pretty sure the only other people in the house were his other uncles.

"Huey! Do you understand me? This is important!" Gladstone never said anyone's real name and would never yell at him or his brothers.

Huey recognized it was panic, almost fear, that his uncle was giving off, which should've been possible. Gladstone's luck did let bad things happen to him. The only other time Huey had remotely seen Gladstone frightened was when Donald got stuck in the House of Luck in Tokyoke. Huey nodded.

"What about?" He looked at his brothers.

"Let them sleep until I get back. Remember, only let me in." Gladstone walked out.

Huey's brain was playing ketchup. He wanted to ask questions, but the door clicked shut. He ran to Dewey.

"Dewey! Dewey! Wake up! Dew!" He shook him and the blue triple tried to push him off. "It's urgent! Dewey!"

"What?" Dewey opened one eye, annoyed.

"Uncle Gladstone was just in here. He told me to pack and to only open the door for him. He seemed scared."

"Pshh. Uncle Gladstone doesn't get scared. You were dreaming. Go back to sleep." His brother rolled over. Huey hit him with the bag. "Ugh, I'm up! But why would Uncle Gladstone of all people be scared?"

"I don't know. He wouldn't let me ask. He told me to pack." Dewey looked at the bag Huey was holding.

"Okay, I'll help, but if you're wrong, you're doing my laundry for a week." Dewey kicked off the blankets.

"Fine whatever," Huey huffed, heading for their desk. He grabbed pictures and their phone chargers.

"Grab Louie's grab bag. I think it has clothes for all of us." Dewey pointed to a loose floorboard and started shoving things in the bag.

Huey pried open the floor board and opened the backpack.

"Why does he have our clothes?"

"They're for disguise or if I ever needed to make a run for it," Louie yawned from his bunk. "Why are you going through it?"

Huey explained again.

...

He locked the door and ran to where he left Donald. He hit the doorknob, and the door opened - a trick he learned when he was younger.

He scooped his sleeping cousin up and made his way downstairs to the garage. The cool night air made him sigh, as he opened the door. He laid his cousin in the passenger seat and sat in the driver's seat.

He had driven exactly one car his whole life, so something like keys didn't cross his mind until now. He flipped through the console and found a spare set.