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[richestduck]

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[noimpulsecontrol]

[It's hard to define why she's nervous. She told him she was leaving; said she'd be back, and a week later, here she is. And it sure seems like he still is, as well. His house is still there, after all - gotta be a good sign, right? Maybe it's because she has some idea of how much her... Other absence, back home, hurt him and damaged his life.

Still, she takes a deep breath and knocks.]

Finally tagging this back! Sorry for the wait!

[richestduck]

[Thought is perched on the edge of the roof and spreads her wings, cawing down to her in a tone that sounds like an irritated and slightly-worried mother demanding where her wayward child had gotten off to. The raven fluffs her feathers, giving herself a shake.]

[Scrooge himself has been trying to distract himself from counting the days, hours, minutes, seconds from when she'd left to check up on her version of Duckburg. The bookshelves in his cottage are filling up nicely as a result. However, he can't bring himself to read much of them, wearing a circular groove in the carpet as he tries to walk out the worry that "some people don't come back what if she doesn't come back". Poking holes in Magica De Spell's "woe is me" post had been fun (even if it did mean he'd learned the shocking truth that she had actually told the truth when she'd said she'd purchased the other Scrooge's Dime), but there are too many hours in the day. They drag on and on and -- ]

[The knock on his door actually makes him jump. He whirls about, having to catch himself on the armchair as his utter lack of depth perception sets him off-balance. Memory -- perched on the back of the chair -- flaps her wings, cawing at him.]

I'm fine, I'm fine.

[He focuses on Thought, seeing through the other raven's eyes and sees -- ]

[He stumbles to the door, still horrendously off-balance but desperate to see her with his own eyes...eye. He hastily undoes the lock and opens the door, wobbling slightly to one side as his altered equilibrium tries desperately to catch up with all of his brisk movement.]

Della...!

[He wants to launch himself at her and hug her tightly. She's back. She's really back. Someone finally came back to stay...]

[He probably looks terrible. His feathers need a good preening, and he might have gained a little weight from periodic binging on comfort food. (Not the massive amounts of pizza he'd ordered after Beakley, Webby, and Duckworth had left but definitely more than he should have.)]

The most worthwhile wait!

[noimpulsecontrol]

[Della doesn't hold back. Della never holds back, after all. She takes a step closer and wraps her arms around him - oh, she notices how bad he looks, and gives her guilt, but she sets it aside for just a moment. She was just with him - a him? - back in Duckburg, but she still wants to treasure this.]

Hi, Uncle Scrooge. [The hug is warm and tender, but there's a bit of a desperate cling to it, thanks to that guilt she can't totally push away, even temporarily.] It's good to be back.

[She means that. As hard as it is to be away from home... She has dear ones here in the Index. Especially this Scrooge. He needs her, so much, and her heart breaks over it... And there's more to it. She doesn't realize it in full awareness, but there's a part of Della that still has the same concerns she did when she first got back from the moon: That everything was fine without her for so long, and maybe she doesn't have to be around.

That's not the case here, obviously. She makes a contented noise, and gives him a squeeze before she holds him out at arm's length. That makes it impossible to ignore that he's a mess, making the "how've you been?" that was on the tip of her tongue now seem pointless. So, instead-]

Is it okay if I come in?

[He may be the elder here, and the uncle, at that, but right now... It sure seems he could use a bit of mothering.]

[richestduck]

[Scrooge is just as clingy in his hug back. He'd never realized just how much he'd come to depend on the hugs of his niece and nephew until they were gone. Some part of him needed the tactile affection of a good squeeze, a part of him he hadn't even realized existed until it had suddenly been cut off.]

[He wasn't...hadn't been...huggy with his three great-nephews. He'd become dependent on the hugs of the twins; he hadn't wanted to form such a strong attachment to the triplets that a hug would create. He'd learned that a hug was an easy way to get in range to stab someone in the back. His personal history could be charted by the betrayals, and deep down he'd known that things with the triplets wouldn't last. He'd gotten too attached anyway, foolish old man.]

[After a long moment, he clears his throat and pulls back but doesn't let go of her just yet, maintaining a grip on her wrist. If he lets go, she'll disappear. She always disappears, and he wakes up remembering that he killed her.] O'course, lass. Let's fix up a pot of tea, and you can tell me all about your trip.

[He's reluctant to release his hold on her wrist, and he stands there awkwardly for a moment, trying to muster the willpower to release her.]

[noimpulsecontrol]

[She notices he's still holding on, so she wriggles her arm - not to escape that hold, just to adjust it so their hands are clasped. She smiles softly.]

Don't worry about the tea, Uncle Scrooge. [And while there's certainly a lot to tell him about what happened back in Duckburg, even that can wait. It may be his home, but she's going to lead him inside. Her free hand removes his hat and sets it aside, then starts picking through the feathers on his head, gently.] Let's get you cleaned up a bit. [She doesn't ask permission. Of course she doesn't, it's her.]

[richestduck]

[Her mothering him catches him off-guard. So off-guard that he doesn't move.]

[Then he gives an awkward smile.]

I...I was trying to keep myself busy.

[noimpulsecontrol]

[She slows down at his words, though she doesn't stop.]

I told you I'd be back.

[It's said in a tone that's a little defensive, but mostly just guilty.]

[richestduck]

I believed you! I believed you'd do everything you could to come back!

[But that's the problem: Everything she could do wasn't a guarantee. What if she couldn't find her way back again? TRANSMISSION LOST TRANSMISSION LOST TRANSMISSION LOST]

[noimpulsecontrol]

No, I-I know!

[She takes a deep breath in, and sighs it out.]

I'm here now, okay? [She gives his hand that she's holding a squeeze.] Let's just focus on that.

[richestduck]

[He tightly squeezes back.] Yes, you are.

[It's amazing, really. She came back not just to Index but to see him. He's not her Scrooge but she still came back.]

[He realizes his eyes are watering and hastily starts wiping them.] Sorry.

[noimpulsecontrol]

[She shakes her head at the apology. It's hard to see him cry, and it's got her tearing up a bit herself, but-]

It's okay, Uncle Scrooge.