a/n: an old touched up ducktales fic from 2019. mostly preserved, with things only changing for accessibility's sake
Since the moment Dewey hatched, three entire seconds after his wide eyed brother, he was a bustling bundle of feathers.
Foolhardy years before he'd know what the word meant, Dewey was the first to walk (Huey beat him as the first to crawl, but only by a day) and subsequently the first to crash head first into something. The first time had been an accident and his uncle Donald had fretted until the tiny boy laughed and did it again, full of purpose.
(That had just made Uncle Donald full on panic of course, but the child continued to giggle as he was picked up, unconcerned.)
None of the triplets could ever stay still for long, having their hands aflutter or the edge of the couch being worn down by a constant swaying, but Dewey was double either of his brothers on the best of days.
Constantly bouncing, rolling around, spinning in circles, slapping at things… There was never a dull moment with him.
He was a self realized menace when it came to shopping, one of the few times he'd harold the rest of their trio into doing things. It was troublesome for their uncle, not wanting to lose them amongst piles of stuffed animals to dive in or making music wapping at bags of rice.
Eventually when Huey was able to map out the entirety of the tiny market by heart, Uncle Donald let them do as they pleased, barring no messes were made and they waited near the registers when they were done.
Louie found the idea of being near people who constantly dropped coins a lot more interesting than laying in plushies and Huey cataloged the entire store shelf by shelf.
Dewey however, was more than happy hitting the rice bags as hard as he could to his own beat.
Babysitters are a revolving door of creatures.
Other ducks, other birds, some dogs, exactly one cat and lizard, and after that Dewey finds he can't care to keep track.
They're the way he first hears the phrase Problem Children and he doesn't like it one bit.
He's 5 and he and his brothers'll be heading to school any day now and he may not know the entire dictionary like Huey does or know how to twist words like Louie does but he pulls from both of their talents that whatever the phrase means is Bad.
It makes him worry for the first time that he's a Problem. When Uncle Donald comes home one day to a quitting sitter that spits the words with a venom Dewey's never heard before, he in turn hears words from his uncle he didn't think he was allowed to repeat.
But he also hears words like endearing, lovable and a joy. Even though the yelling Dewey feels himself relax from a state of worry he hadn't known he was in.
He makes sure to ask Huey the definition of endearing that night and is happy with what he learns.
Nobody in their class liked him.
Some of the kids pretended to like Huey because he'd help anyone who asked nice enough with their homework and some seemed to gravitate towards Louie with his abundance of candy stashes to sell, as long as you had a dollar of course.
But nobody seemed to like Dewey for anything, not that he didn't try.
He tried so hard.
He'd get laughed at for wanting to play pirates and treasure hunters and called babyish even though his birthday was just late in the school year and he'd be 8 soon enough.
(He privately thought it was stupid for school to start in September anyways. It was cold and made late birthdays early and early birthdays late.
It was backwards, is what it was. Stupid, dumb and backwards, like most of school.)
His teacher didn't help much either, always telling him to sit still, which only made him dwell on it and need to bounce more.
It took several weeks for him to finally stop trying after trials he didn't like to recount and simply stick with his brothers.
Still, even though Huey's friends were mostly fair weather and Louie's were more like daily customers, they were there and Dewey envied them.
(Of course, when the three of them were eventually labeled The Weirdo Know-It-All, The Spaz and The Brother of the Freaks respectively by those same people, Dewey found envy melt easily into anger.)
There's one time Uncle Donald finds him doing something he actually considers pretty harmless, all things considered, and quacks at him to stop.
In hindsight, Dewey can kind of see how dive bombing their tiny shared bed may not have been the smartest idea in the world, but again, harmless.
It was mindless fun, ramming head first into the cushiony mess from a running leap. It left his mind fuzzy with happy tingles and a pleasant buzz.
It didn't even hurt, he'd made sure to clarify when his uncle was adamant that he cut it out, thinking that was the issue. Louie had even caught him at it some time ago and suggested he aim for the pillows and sheets rather than the hard mattress itself.
To demonstrate, Dewey raps at his head and announces, "See? No damage!" His uncle is unimpressed. Dewey sighs and relents with a rueful look at the bed.
Dewey lasts two days longer than Louie in the Junior Woodchucks.
From the moment it was brought up, Louie seemed reluctant to join, but Huey and Dewey were willing to give it a shot, so along came Louie, because of course he did.
Dewey doesn't get it at first, when his younger brother slumps into the couch once they get home and harrumphs into his pulled up hood. Huey asks what's wrong, as they'd only really overlooked badges and troop structure that first day, and gets nothing from it besides an ugh and the youngest's backside.
He looks ready to push, beak opening, before he closes it again.
They don't talk about it again until Dewey maybe starts to get it and resigns himself.
The badges themselves originally seemed cool but the majority of them were earned by doing inane stuff Dewey couldn't even imagine himself doing.
Huey seemed disheartened, like he was guessing he'd have to stop now too, but obviously couldn't find it in himself to honestly want to quit. He was the only one fully captured by the program.
Dewey gets one good look at his face and says simply, "Go ahead, bro. You love all that nerd stuff! You don't gotta give it up just because me 'nd Louie did. We'll just stay here and keep the couch warm for you until you get back."
Huey frowned a bit at the nerd jab, but it was quickly chased by a soft smile and Dewey could tell he'd said the right thing.
He and Louie keep the promise.
The first time and last time Dewey drinks coffee is a complete accident.
What should've been warm and tasty cocoa was instead bitter and lukewarm at best but Dewey had downed it before really tasting it.
A simple case of mistaken cup identity led to an entire weekend of the blue clad child running rampant, even more so than usual, energy skyrocketing with an unneeded double shot of caffeine.
Babbling a bunch of nothing words and questions that weren't given time to be answered.
Up and down and up and down from the couch, unable to deal with sitting still but not wanting to pace because pacing made Huey nervous unless he was the one doing it.
Flopping all over the houseboat in various uncomfortable poses and constantly hitting his face or back of his head while trying to do headstands.
There's a very small time frame where he'd begged for a pen and paper, unable to find some himself, and just wrote in silence. The pen was discarded and the paper was ripped up not long after.
It took until Sunday afternoon for Dewey to crash, unable to sleep the previous night with a million and one ideas running through his mind.
And crash he did.
The next day at school after assuring his uncle he was good to go is one of the calmest days he has in class.
When they go to Funso's, it takes Dewey exactly five seconds after getting his share of tokens to get drawn in by the flashing lights of the arcade.
He's one hop from splashing into the ballpit when they catch him and like a moth to flame Dewey's course changes in a snap. He distantly hears his brothers call after him and waves his hand dismissively behind himself without stopping.
There's a ton of machines and Dewey is itching to play each and every single one of them.
He's not even slightly successful, blowing through two quickly before a game called Uke or Puke is in front of him and has suddenly eaten up almost all his coins.
The rhythm game enthralls him until he feels his uncle's hand squeeze his shoulder for attention and he jolts just a bit. Dewey turns to see his siblings next to him, Huey looking over the cabinet and Louie giving him a lazy smile.
Uncle Donald tells him it's time they get going and Dewey almost argues, but he squints his eyes at the exit and sees that night is beginning to fall and sets the plastic ukulele down with a yawn of, "Okay."
Clever wasn't normally what people would describe Dewey as, and maybe, after the stunt he'd pulled, he wouldn't either.
Huey would've tried to talk his way out of what happened and Louie would've tried to bribe his way out of it. Both much more clever than what Dewey had done.
Which was, of course, let the nark who sat next to him in class push his buttons until he erupted.
In the middle of class. Seemingly out of nowhere.
Dewey may or may not have needed to be restrained by his brothers and may or may not have gotten a two weeks suspension for plucking out half of the kid's feathers.
Because, it wasn't like that kid had routinely waited until his siblings weren't close enough to hear to say awful things about them and himself or anything.
And it definitely wasn't like the last straw had been the kid comparing his uncle to something he wasn't allowed to repeat.
No. Of course not.
Dewey didn't bother to explain himself, knowing it wouldn't have mattered anyways.
For two weeks, Dewey tears any piece of paper that graces his hands and sits on them when there's nothing else to do with them.
The anger seeps in and out until it dissipates and Dewey attends school again, as far away from the real instigator as possible. They don't look at each other for the rest of the school year.
He's halfway through 3rd grade when one of his classmates approaches him and his brothers.
They're skeptic, or rather Louie is, while Huey is worried and Dewey is genuinely curious.
The kid addresses him by name and he's surprised and even more curious now. He nods dumbly and their expression grows a bit starry eyed.
They ask, "Where does your endless energy come from? It's so fascinating!"
They adjust their glasses while Dewey tries to get his gears to turn again to think of an explanation for something he's never questioned himself.
They give him this weird look after a second and smirk. "That's what I hypothesized, you have no idea right?"
He nods again, confused, and he can feel his brothers press up against him.
"Well," they say, glasses catching in the overhead lights, "I would just love it if I could study you for our upcoming science fair! In fact, I'd like to study all three of… you...?"
Dewey is barely processing things as he hears their voice fade and feels his feet drag at the ground, Louie pushing ahead and Huey seemingly only trailing behind because they were holding hands.
Huey had that look on his face that he normally got when he was missing some piece of information and Louie was shaking enough that Dewey could feel it like he was the one shivering.
Dewey didn't understand.
What's there to study?
What's there to study about his brothers?
They're nothing like him, he'd thought, mostly good grades and able to concentrate and be still in class.
They were normal.
(Was Dewey… not normal?
What was wrong with him?
Why did he have to be studied?)
One's top priority when hungry wasn't always eating, as it turns out.
Sure Dewey knew when he was hungry, but it wasn't always important. Like, why stop in the middle of his deep dive into the history of Darkwing Duck just to eat? A good waste of good time, if you asked Dewey!
Huey had told him once that he'd get bad headaches if he didn't eat right, back when he once refused to eat on a stupid self imposed dare. Huey's not normally wrong, but by the time he'd called it quits and finally ate, he'd only felt a little lightheaded, so it couldn’t really be that bad.
Besides, if he ate less it meant more for someone else right?
As much as he tried, sometimes it was painfully obvious Uncle Donald was either eating less or skipping meals on purpose for the three of them. So if Dewey just didn't think about it and answered with a passable mumble, everyone could eat what they needed and it'd all be good.
It's hard to remember you're hungry when you finally figure out a piece of lore you'd been agonizing over for forever, anyways.
As it turns out, sleeping when tired isn't a hot topic in Dewey's mind either.
Cylinders fire off at infinity a minute. Sometimes there was just no time to sleep when all his thoughts were so much more interesting!
Even though Louie was easily the most lethargic of the trio, Dewey would sometimes have his off days after staying up too long.
Sometimes he'd sit so still in class it was unnerving.
Other days he'd yawn every two minutes and doze off for the majority of the day, only to be full of spirit once school was over.
Today seemed like one of the latter days, even though the walk from the bus stop to the houseboat didn't have any peppy Dewey flair.
Too busy talking about one of the newer shows they'd gotten into, Huey and Louie powered ahead and didn't notice when the middle child's eyes slipped closed behind them and he walked with a slant until he walked onto thin air.
Dewey's eyes snapped open and he tried to swing his foot around for balance and grab a non existent railing for purchase and then he heard more than felt himself hit the water, hard, and then it was very, very dark.
Dewey kinda felt like he was sleeping, but something was off.
Things are darker than they should've been and he felt a tight pressure that'd been more soothing than it should've been.
His mind wondered and he couldn't catch up, so for once, he didn't try.
Dewey wakes up with a gasp and heaves in as much air as he can between coughs.
His vision swims and his ears ring before there are three blurry blobs in front of him, in a tidy red green and blue.
Someone is crying.
There's some beeping.
He blinks until he can make out his brothers and uncle, of whom Louie is crying.
Huey's eyes look red even from where Dewey is and so do Uncle Donald's.
He doesn't understand.
What's wrong? Where are they? Why does everyone look so upset?
Before he can ask, Huey explains how he slipped and went under the water and didn't come back up. Uncle Donald, who was blessedly home, had pulled him out and when he wouldn't wake up they'd taken him to the hospital and now here they were.
They'd been there for three days.
Louie's crying grows worse at the mention and Dewey thinks, maybe if he wasn't so out of it, he'd have been able to tell what his brother sobbed out. It takes Dewey a long, long moment before all he can smartly say is, "Oh."
Huey didn't get angry often but he was spitting mad when they got home.
Dewey had to stay for an extra week and catch up on rest while they made sure no water was in his lungs. The moment the triplets were alone, their uncle retiring after making sure Dewey was okay, Huey exploded.
"The doctors said you'd been running for three days without rest!" he fumed. "What in the world could have ever convinced you that was okay?! How were you even functioning?! What were you thinking?!"
Dewey simply shook his head and let Huey do what he had to.
He knew his older brother was just deeply worried, but… he'd just been thinking too much, as normal, until he couldn't think anymore and nearly drowned because of it.
There was no good way to explain that. How do you explain something that only seems to be an issue for you and nobody else?
Even Louie, face carefully put together, looked perturbed. Dewey fidgeted guiltily as he took his lumps and returned Huey's hug as soon as he recovered enough to realize it was happening. Louie was quick to join.
Huey asks, begs, for Dewey not to do anything so reckless again, and what kind of brother would he be if he didn't oblige?
While Louie, bless his heart, just couldn't wrap his head around maps very well, it's not the reason Huey always got them where they were going nine times out of ten.
Most of it was because of the spatial orientation badge he'd managed to earn doing something neither of his brothers understood.
The rest of it was because, try as he might, Dewey couldn't keep attention long enough on boat outings.
Sure, it was easy to focus on the map, but not in any useful way. Dewey found that he could either pick out every rip and smudge on the piece of paper and completely lose them on the lake or get so excited at the prospect of what could be found in and on the water that by the time he looked back at the map, he'd no idea where they were in relation to it.
So, Huey got to read maps and Louie got to relax and Dewey got to daydream. It was a good setup.
Their first actual adventure with Legendary Adventurer (and also their great uncle?!) Scrooge McDuck is nothing short of a mess.
Dewey manages to set off every trap and still somehow has trouble getting Scrooge to remember his name.
Then his uncle is used as ransom and Glomgold flees with the jewel and the room starts filling with water and Dewey feels so dumb that this is the way he's gonna die, all because he couldn't sit still or listen for once in his life and—there's a huge lamp on the ceiling?
…Why's there a huge lamp on the ceiling?
Dewey works his way through his first puzzle of the day, all by himself, and gets both of his uncles to trust him enough to save the day. They cobble out while picking up everyone, friend and enemy, along the way and escape with their lives.
Dewey imagines things could've standed to go smoother but in the end, they're successful.
…And while that was all fine and dandy, Dewey might have accidentally forgotten to turn the houseboat off and may have also accidentally blown up said houseboat, but it was fine.
They move in with their great uncle and it's someplace new to learn the ins and outs of for Huey, somewhere with more than enough comfortable places to rest for Louie and a great place for Dewey to wear out every mattress with excessive jumping.
Webby is just like him.
It's exciting in a way only things like Darkwing Duck and adventure had ever been to him.
If he was being completely honest, there are bits of his brothers he can see in her too, but everything else is all him. They share a love for mysteries and both careen around like jumping jellybeans without a care in the world.
Dewey sees Webby do things he's only seen himself do his entire life and something in him surges so high that he hugs her out of the blue one day.
Webby wastes zero time recuperating while asking what the embrace was for and Dewey doesn't know how to say the truth so he says it's thanks for helping him with the family mystery instead. He feels more than sees Webby beam at that, hands thumping rapidly on his back, and he hugs her just a bit tighter before letting go.
Uncle Scrooge and Uncle Donald had been giving the triplets weird looks the entirety of breakfast, and Dewey had had just about enough of it.
Before he could ask, Uncle Donald says he's been worried about them. Has been for a while now, which was even weirder. Uncle Donald wasn't one to keep his worry to himself.
Scrooge pipes up and says that, if they're willing, he's prepared a specialist for them to see, whenever they're ready.
Dewey may not be as sharp as the sharpies but the way the word hangs in the air makes his mind flash back to the middle of 3rd grade and he's just in time to catch his brothers share the same haunted look. He's certain they're all thinking of the same thing and the vote is unanimous.
The trip there is long and yet the visit itself feels like he blinks and it's over.
They were all interviewed one at a time and because Scrooge had apparently paid top dollar for this, they all leave with a triplet special plus something extra for each of them.
Huey had autism with obsessive-compulsive tendencies.
Louie had autism and major depression
And Dewey had autism and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder.
The ride back was silent, Huey engrossed in his phone, no doubt learning everything he could, Louie rocking softly with his hood up, and Dewey, for a second time, at a loss for words.
They go to therapy, all three of them.
Louie is reluctant and Huey is intrigued and Dewey is somewhere in the middle.
He doesn't feel good, but he smiles softly despite himself. It reminds him of when they'd signed up for the Junior Woodchucks.
He knows just as well as they do though, this was something that had to happen. Nobody got to quit, if only because they all needed each other for this.
Dewey sits in the middle of Huey and Louie and holds their hands. When someone squeezes, the other two squeeze back.
They do that every visit until there's a fourth duckling in the backseat with them, and then they do it with her too.
He's at the mall's food court, waiting in line when Dewey feels something blip on his shoulder, and then a hard tap soon after.
He turns to the source and sees a familiar pair of glasses. He's frozen for a moment and tunes back into his old classmate exclaiming his last name.
"You are Dewey Duck, right?" Dewey nods, suddenly feeling 9 again, even if the difference between 11 and 9 weren't too huge. "I almost didn't notice!" they continue, "You're not bouncing off the walls like you used to! Did something happen?"
Dewey squints at them just a bit before straightening and saying with all the bite he can muster, "Yeah, actually! They diagnosed me with cool guy syndrome just a while ago! Now I take adderall!"
The bespectacled duck blanches a bit, like they weren't expecting that, but Dewey barrels on with an old mirrored smirk.
"Sucks for you though, right? Looks like you missed out on all the studying!"
The duck crumples into themself, looking hurt, and Dewey grins brightly.
It's a very unkind grin.
He doesn't care.