Hey! Roxy Goth here.
So...the first thing you need to know is that while this is technically a sequel to another fanfic of mine [Della Duck's Totally Awesome Guide to Bonding With Your Family!] It should be able to stand alone as well.
There may be some things that follow on from the previous series, but I'm sure Della will re-cap them as, when and if they come up.
Warning: There may be some language. Della is an adult after all. I'll put in warnings for chapters as and when they're needed, but it shouldn't go to far.
Disclaimer - I do not own Ducktales.
June 9th 2020
"Happy Birthday to you! Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Della, happy birthday to you!" Is what I was woken up to this morning. Issue is this is actually my first birthday back since the whole 'moon' thing and I wasn't expecting it.
I made some noise that vaguely translated to 'What the hell!?' sat up and threw my arms out. Thankfully due to years of dodging trouble Huey and Dewey managed to step back and not be hit in the face.
"Della, relax it's us!" Donald said, in alarm.
"I knew this was a bad idea." Louie muttered.
Huey was bouncing round near my head. "Can we give you your presents now!?" He said, grinning widely.
I looked at Donald, who looked back at me and we had a 'silent telepathic' moment.
Five minutes later we were all downstairs on the couch with Auntie Beakley pressing a cup of hot tea [what is with the British and tea!?] into our hands. "Happy birthday, dears." She said, fondly. "Now, what would the birthday twins-" She said, with special emphasis on the twins. "-Like for breakfast?"
I'd forgotten about the fact that every birthday you're allowed to ask for whatever you want for breakfast and Beakley will make it for you, but I was SO glad to be reminded!
I had a STACK of pancakes coated in a mix of Maple, Chocolate and Strawberry syrup and Don had a MASSIVE cooked breakfast. It was delicious. Beakley also kept the kids out the kitchen so me and Don could have some time to ourselves.
We talked about this and that, then after a few minutes I realised I was doing most of the talking. Actually I was doing ALL of the talking. "Don?" I said, looking at him. "Are you alright?"
He gave a small laugh and put his fork down. "I just...I never thought I'd have THIS again, Della. You know. I've said this before but...I did think you were gone forever. I did!" He said, as I rolled my eyes. "And then you came back and we fought those Moon lander friends of yours, then everything's been CRAZY since then and..." He trailed off. "You know."
"Yeah." I smiled at him. "You know."
Just then Beakley stuck her head round the door and apologised, explaining that the kids were just DESPERATE to give us their presents. By 'Kids' I quickly realised she meant 'Huey', who the second I stuck my foot out the door bounded in front of me and presented me with a beautifully wrapped gift.
"Lovely Huey." I said, brightly. "Shall we sit down first?"
So we sat down and the kids gave us their gifts. Huey gave me this diary. "Now you don't have to write in Dewey's!" He said, with a massive beam.
I thanked him and hugged him. There was a bit of a competition for who was going to sit next to me. Huey and Dewey won. Louie draped himself in the armchair, at first with his phone until Scrooge snatched it out his hands and confiscated it. "Uncle Scrooge!" Louie whined.
"It's ya mothers birthday!" Scrooge snapped.
Donald gave me a look that said. 'What am I, chopped liver?' And I gave a laugh that had everyone looking at me like I was insane.
Donald gave me a, like, professionally done series of photographs of me and him from various points over the years. That was sweet, I've got it in my room now, I just need to hammer a nail in and it'll be fine.
Louie had made me a little statue of myself that he'd designed and then painted. It looked GREAT. And it explains why and Scrooge have been sneaking off every weekend to 'Teach the boy some business ideas.' I've put it on my bedside stand.
Dewey - rather confusingly - presented me with shoebox. And when I say 'shoebox', I don't mean a nice-looking decorated one, I mean a literal shoebox. I must have looked really confused cos Dewey said, with a large smile. "Open it!"
So I did. And it was filled with little trinkets. A keyring with a space-ship on it. A piece of paper with a drawing on it of two stick people and the words 'Me and my mommy.' from when Dewey was about 3. Basically Dewey had decided to put everything he had ever thought to give me over the years into a shoebox and present it to me. It was beautiful and I thanked him by bursting into tears and blubbering hideously. As a matter of fact we ALL cried. Even Beakley and Scrooge cried, which is how you know something is seriously sad cos Scrooge prides himself on being 'tougher than the toughies' [which includes being emotionally tough] and Beakley just...doesn't cry. Which is weird. I have this theory she's actually a robot, but that's not really the POINT Della!
The cake! I can't BELIEVE I haven't mentioned the cake! Every year since me and Don moved in with Scrooge, Auntie Beakley has made us a cake. For a couple of years it was actually 2 cakes. That was when Donald was going through his emo 'I-don't-want-to-be-a-twin' stage. To be fair I went through that stage as well. But anyway.
The top tier was chocolate - which I love - and the bottom layer was vanilla. [Donald's favourite. Despite the fact it's tasteless.] On the top she'd covered the cake in blue icing and stuck two figures meant to resemble me and Donald on the top of it. The figures were smiling and had there arms round each other. In what I'm guessing must be practiced calligraphy Beakley had iced the words. 'Happy Birthday To The Adventure Twins! May They Have Many More!" Which although a lovely thought does also sound like a eulogy.
For some reason seeing the hand-made cake made me burst into tears again. I seem to have spent most of today crying, it's ridiculous. Birthdays are meant to be happy! But I think...it's just...I had mentally prepared myself for never celebrating another birthday again. Not like this. There were at least three years while I was on the moon that I just lost track of my own birthday and then I'd get upset cos it meant I'd forgotten Donald's birthday and I felt like the worst sister ever. Then I remembered I was also currently winning the award for 'The Worst Mother Ever' as well and cried harder.
I once asked Penumbra if she would like to celebrate her birthday and she said no. I asked her why and she said it seemed like a 'most upsetting time'. As a matter of fact the exact words she used was: 'If I wanted to spend her entire time crying I'd simply have someone claw out my eyes.' It wasn't so much the words themselves but rather the completely casual way she said it. So, yeah, never asked her again.
All in all, despite the many, many, many, MANY tears that have been shedded today, it's been a really good day. A Great day, actually and hopefully the first of many!