we're just two black holes, dancing with each other

it was love from above, like it saved me from hell

The days that followed were, for a lack of a better word, awkward. It was of no surprise to either of them that that was the case. With the things brought to light and the words left unspoken, they were both tip-toeing around the subject that weighed heavily on their minds. There was an easy solution to cure the air of its thick malignance, if they weren’t caught in such a precarious loop. Even if one had thought themselves shed of the awkwardness, they thought there was no doubt the other was still suffering. When the mind is overrun with a single thought, there is no chance for an escape. So the mind is just filled with awkwardness, even when they thought they were cured, because it’s all they could think about; on the forefront of their brain.

An endless loop of self-inflicted suffering.

Fuck it was awkward.

Obviously, Scrooge thought, if he really didn’t care then he wouldn’t be plagued by such ineptness. There was no denying now that he no longer thought of Glomgold as an incompetent and barely significant nemesis. What the duck was to him though was something he wasn’t going to put the energy into figuring out while he was on the island. He’d hardly eaten in days and that was a rather valid excuse to not give it any thought. That was the excuse Scrooge had used, at least, in the multiple instances he had thought about what his recent actions could mean.

Like the way his gaze would ceremoniously find its way to the injured duck. And with the multitude of occasions he’d caught his eyes nested on the duck he was able to deduce that Glomgold’s wrist had pretty much healed, at least, that’s what he could discern from how the duck seemed to be able to use his hand just fine. It was honestly amazing how quickly the injury seemed to heal, especially considering how rough Flintheart seemed to be with it only days before, when he had pinned Scrooge flat against the ground.

Although, Scrooge had seen Glomgold blow himself up on multiple occasions, so maybe it’s not as unusual as he’d previously thought.

He himself was cursed with immortality, after all. 

Despite how indestructible Glomgold’s body appeared to be, the duck still refused to be left on his own. As if he’d break if he was left to his own devices. That was something Scrooge was tempted to bring up, especially considering Glomgold had been on his own before. More often than not, in actuality.

Awkward, his brain surmised; like a giant pop-up error box in his mind he couldn’t close. All he could do was drag it off to the side, out of sight. But he could still feel it burning into his brain, like a virus chewing at his core processors. He was about to have a breakdown.

So, Scrooge had resigned to ignoring that whole problem, too. Just stayed silent as Glomgold explained why he was necessary for their current search for supplies; the same plea each time, without fail. Even though, in the end, the younger duck was never all that helpful. Whether it was on purpose or not, Scrooge refused to bring it up. He would have, and he did, when they first arrived on the island. He’d pointed out how Glomgold barely lifted a finger to help. Though now, after what had happened only days prior, he doesn’t have the gall, lest the duck have another mental crisis.

Awkward, his brain helpfully advised. This time he agreed. Scrooge had no idea what could set the duck off. No idea what his insecurities were and therefore, how to avoid prodding at them. He could guess, using the knowledge he’d garnered from previous prodding. And, he could guess that he himself already triggered his insecurities, just by existing. Fantastic. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was true, though, considering it was his own actions that led Glomgold to the duck he was today.

That explained everything. The way that Glomgold seemed to live for him.

For him.

Glomgold never specifically said that, so Scrooge doesn’t know why that thought popped into his head. He now wished the ‘awkward’ pop-up would return. That was a lot easier to manage.