Chapter Text
This situation couldn't get any worse, it's already the worst situation he's ever been in. How you may ask? Well, if you were the one currently flying through an unnatural lightning storm, then you'd get a general idea.
He was jostled around in his seat as another lightning strike struck again the tip of his jet's wingtip. A grimace was starting to form underneath his oxygen mask as he shook it off and tried to find his way out of this. He was given no help from his radar or any of his navigation tools, all that was working were the controls, and maybe the weapons system.
He'd have to lift up the visor of his helmet just to be able to barely see where he was going in the air. Dark black clouds, if that made any sense, surrounded him completely. The lighting was forming and striking all around, discharging their electricity that messed with his ship's delicate systems. His eyes squinted and a breath flash caused him to immediately jerk his wrist to the left, which in turn caused the shift to briefly bank left as a bolt partially struck the plane once again.
Another grunt was let out of him as he was jostled, eyes tearing away from the clouds in front of him to look out at his wings and the worrying amounts of lighting dancing around it. He stared at it in awe for a few moments before returning his focus back to what was important, getting out of here in one piece.
He wasn't even sure how he got here in the first place, it's as if the storm targeted him specifically since the team back at base forecasted clear skies all around. Though he was evidently learning that it was an utter lie with every bolt striking, jostling, and dispersing all around his plane.
This was getting all the more dreadful as he couldn't even begin to find any type of exit from this storm. It would be a generally large culmination of clouds if he still struggled with finding freedom. Hell, he even dropped his attitude a several thousand feet and still found nothing!
Glancing back down at his console, he used his free hand to mess with the instruments that were non-responsive. Flicking a few more buttons here and there just to see if he'd regained any sort of control, but he didn't.
He sighed and returned the hand back down to the control stick and returned his focus to keeping in the air and not turning into a fireball. Which in retrospect, is better than losing power and plummeting down into the earth. But he shook his head at those thoughts, he wasn't going to give up, even if the clouds themselves turned purple and blue!
He paused.
'Wait what?' He mentally froze and glanced at the clouds once more.
The black clouds had somehow turned into an amalgamation of purple and blue, not mixed, yet still somehow looking like they were pressing the boundaries of blending into each other. The part of the storm he flew into seemed calmer and more peaceful than what he was experiencing before, in an unsettling type of way. He shook his head and made sure everything was actually as it seemed and that he hadn't passed out due to delirium.
He couldn't shake the sight. Everything seemed a little more.. astronomical, unorthodox, cosmic even!
Yes, cosmic. That's what this all seemed to be now, with how strange and out of the ordinary it is. He a hundred percent knew that the white jackets back at the base would have a field day over this phenomenon, and he would be more than happy to indulge them. That is, if he actually makes it back to base since right now he still couldn't reason it due to his lack of navigation.
He banked right and flew into a larger mass of clouds, hoping that he would find an exit to all of this. Though when his jet passed into the cluster, the nose of his ship was immediately struck by a red bolt of lightning.
It startled him and that was used against him as the ship jerked and he unwillingly turned the ship more into the clouds.
Causing another bolt to strike him, and then another, and another, and then two more.
But at this point, he no longer had control over the plane, the constant barrage of lighting kept shaking and messing with everything he was using to pilot it. He grunted as the bright red bolts forced him to snap his visor back down and lower his head to give his eyes a break.
That was a mistake.
A particular force caused him to jerk his head up and look at his right-wing, eyes now agape as he noticed the distinct lack of wing. That left a few seconds of terror-filled silence before the plane turned against his will and smashed his helmet against the glass. He tried jerking the controls as he started spinning around, not noticing how the lightning stopped striking and instead started culminating into a large ball of electricity.
He was panicking more than ever as his world kept spinning and spinning, the flashing red bolts being joined by the warning lights inside of the cockpit, hardly being visible as it kept cutting out due to the disturbances.
The ball of lighting had grown so large that its combined disturbance caused the clouds to start converging more into them, curving and morphing into the ball as his plane was being drawn into it. Much to his apparent horror as he finally looked up from the controls and noticed. His eyes widened and the grip on the stick slacked, his hands slipping from the controls and down towards the eject button as his breathing quickened.
The plane was a lost cause, he had no chance of steering it out. The eject button was always a last resort to any situation and he knew at that exact moment that its what he needed. So with a bit of hesitation, he gripped onto his harness and spammed his other hand on the eject button. Immediately curling in on himself and holding on tightly to his harness, fully expecting to feel the numerous g-forces as he shatters through the cockpit covering and out into the storm itself.
Though that's not what happened.
He opened his eyes and looked down at the eject button before looking back up towards the enclosing vortex, now frantic as he slammed his hand down over and over again on the eject button. Nothing was happening in response, of all times for the eject button to malfunction, why was it now!
His body was thrown back in his seat as the vortexes grip tightened and hold the plane into it, a grunt was let out from him as he tried to keep himself straight as the plane shook. He gripped tightly onto his harness with both hands and looked out, feeling an eery sense crawling up his spine as his vision was suddenly filled with something he couldn't explain.
His thoughts seemed to halt as he simply stared out at the phenomenon he was now fully pulled into, eyes simply staring out as his vision was taking it all in. The ships shaking and jostling quieted down as he was now simply drifting in whatever this was. Even if one of his wings was missing it didn't matter, a stream of light carrying his ship beyond what he could explain.
Eyes looking all around, he noticed an unnatural calmness, like what he experienced before but on a whole nother level.
His nerves and earlier panic were muted as he felt his body slowly lose feeling in itself, a hand haphazardly drifted up and he stared at the gloved appendage. It was moving so slow, almost as if he were in space. This feeling was then lost too as he dragged his gaze upwards and looked out to a glowing horizon, before a huge spike of pain shot through his mind and he recoiled. Hands now grasping at the sides of his helmet as the pain continued. He gritted his teeth as the pain started to spread downwards, eyes widening before narrowing in pain.
Everything was confusing at this point. It hurt to think.
He took another glance up at the horizon, its purple glow now ever expansive and glowing as he recoiled into himself again. Then another feeling took hold of him, causing his vision to painfully stretch as he moved both hands from his helmet and slammed them down against his console.
Darkness then followed as his eyes closed without his control, his arms sagged and as he fell further into unconsciousness, the pain was already at his legs. But it was quickly snuffed out as a sudden jerk threw him forwards, slamming his head against the center console and immediately knocking him out.
His eyes snapped open and he was groggily unaware of his situation as everything was blurry, his head raised from the console, albeit with him struggling more than he usually would. Rearing his head back felt like he was moving in slow motion once more, his helmet jostled uncomfortably on his head as he finally let the back of his head hit the seat. Letting out an unintelligible noise as he tried to improve his vision. Blinking and blinking to try and remove the bleariness without anything happening.
He was glad the pain was gone but at the behest of him not being able to see anything without feeling under the influence.
He tried sitting up in his seat as it feels like he was slumping in his seat, he raised his arms to push himself upwards, not noticing how his limbs shrunk into the jumpsuit. He failed to do anything and slumped back once again, groaning as he tried to speak to himself.
His tongue felt numb.
He slowly shook his head and focused his gaze on what he could see outside the cockpit, failing to feel any sort of panic at the thought of him careening out of the sky. Instead, he stared up into a blurry black atmosphere, his plane feeling as if it was floating.
What confused his already-addled mind was when he was barely able to focus on the small green orb getting farther from him.
What was…
He strained his mind to think, fighting against the feeling that wanted him to sink into carefree nothingness. Staring directly at the blurry green orb, willing his vision into focusing itself, slowly causing his mind to register what he was looking at.
Earth.
He was looking at Earth. It was getting farther and farther away from him as he realized something.
All this black was space.
His body didn't react as his mind did, having now sobered himself out of the mental hold he had placed on him. As his mind was quick to realize, his body was slow as his widened eyes contradicted his relaxed position.
Why was he in space? Why was he in space!?
Fighter jets are not fit to be in this type of environment, he'd at best have a few minutes of air in this compartment before It ran out. His eyes glanced down at his oxygen mask, he breathed in deeply and felt nothing coming from it as he did so. It caused his worry to grow as he tried snapping his hands ho to it, causing them to slowly rise and fall on the mask.
This only brought on more panic as he noticed his hands weren't visible, it was all engulfed in the sleeves of his flight suit.
What happened to him? Did everything grow, did he shrink? What was happening?
A sudden groan that came from the plane sparked feeling in his chest as he lurched forward, straining against the harness keeping him in place. He groaned in pain and looked outside at the empty void as feeling returned to his body. Only to see the control stick slowly start moving forwards, causing the plane to dip downwards, albeit slowly as it had no thrust helping him.
He lurched forwards again as it dipped harshly. Causing his vision to spiral for a moment before he brought a hand to his helmet and looked out again. Noticing a gray land mass starting to get closer and closer to him. His arms stretched outwards to try and get a hold on the controls but fell short as he was blocked by his harness. He grimaced and reached forwards again but still struggled to even get close to the controls and the console.
So he was even more helpless as his plane started getting closer and closer to the gray mass.
'The moon' the voice of his elementary school teacher rang in the back of his head as he started fumbling with the release switch. No shred of awe in his body as he grew even more frantic then he was as he tried slamming his fists into it as he found no purchase.
Something took hold of his plane as he stopped floating and started dropping, no, falling.
A questionably sounding tone of voice escaped from him as he was thrown forwards and to the side as he started spinning out of control once more. He gripped onto his harness as he kept getting thrown around in his seat. His head haphazardly looked down at the stick before looking down at the eject button, trying to slam his hand back down it.
Nothing.
He tried again, but nothing.
Again, the surface of the moon was getting closer, but nothing.
He felt tears brimming and slammed down once again, which did do something. It started the ejection process, the seat propulsion device jerked and sprung him up, only to just slam his head against the glass uselessly.
Dark spots were visible as the seat fluttered and dropped him back down in place, groaning at the blunt force trauma and with the interior of his plane that was now on fire!
The failed ejection sparked a reaction and the console was now aflame just before him, he landed back in his seat away from the flames as the ship continued spiraling. The flames licked at his flight suit as he started struggling with his harness, the ejection had loosened its hold over him and he started fumbling with the release. Finally being able to be released from the harness and thrown forward into the flames, which luckily didn't affect him as the suit he was wearing was made out of fire-retardant material.
He pushed back and grabbed onto the stick, pulling back with both hands as he tried pulling the ship out of its nosedive. Exerting as much force as he could for a few tense moments before he successfully pulled the plane upwards. Though it was still useless as the pull dragged his plane and slammed it down onto the surface. Causing him to be thrown around as the ship bounced and landed on its other wing, before slamming back down onto it, losing the back half as he started skidding across the moon's surface.
His form was barely conscious as it slowed to a stop and he fell back into his seat with a groan, his helmet cracked and flight suit ripped and littered with black scorch marks.
He reached up and removed the oxygen mask from his face, moving to take in a breath before feeling his chest hitch as he found nothing to breathe in. A rasp was let out as he glanced up at the glass, it cracked to all hell and exposed him. He tried to breathe in once again out of instinct but failed, pressing both hands against his chest as he frantically tried breathing.
It was inevitable though, really. He wasn't sure what he was expecting in trying to delay the inevitable. Even if he survived, he wasn't fitted or trained for space flight, he was a dead man anyway.
He shifted onto his knees on the seat, noticing how he was able to fit onto the seat better than he usually would, feeling so much smaller than he used to be. But his addled mind chalked it up to losing feeling in everything as he rasped out but didn't take in anything. His heartbeat was against his chest so frantically that it hurt as he tried to fight the useless battle.
He didn't hear the tapping at his cockpit, nor did he hear the tapping turn into banging as he failed to prop himself up with both arms. Crashing down onto the seat as he felt himself fading out, weakly trying to push himself up, but he couldn't. His limbs started giving up as the rest of his body gave up on him. But with whatever he had In himself, he simply pressed the eject button once again, he didn't know why though. It's already failed, and he was already dying, so what was the point?
A grinding noise sounded before the glass shielding and popped off the plane, finding itself floating off with the low gravity. A gasp was inaudible to him as he kept fading, though it could've been the fire being immediately extinguished due to exposure to space.
He could feel the cold accompanying the darkness that took over his vision, even with his suit on, he was chilled down to his core as he let his eyes close fully. Letting out one more raspy exhalation as he full-on expected to die there.
But fate had something else in mind as he registered faint touches to his body with what little brain function he had left. It grasped onto him and pulled him up and out of the cockpit. Shuffling him into some sort of embrace as his helmet was being fumbled with, being hauled off his head and his mouth was forced open. Something was hastily placed inside before being closed again, his chin was grasped and the motion of chewing was mimicked as something was in between his teeth.
An intense tingling feeling passed over his body as his eyes snapped open and he jerked forward, hands flying to his chest as he took in greedy breaths of air. His feeling returned and brain functions slowly started helping him register everything as he breathed in and out.
For one, a horrid flavor was permeating around his mouth as he instinctively chewed down on.. gum? He blinked his eyes that didn't register what he was looking at as he grimaced from the taste. It tasted so much like black licorice that it hurt, but even if he wanted to spit it out, something in the back of his head told him not to.
That's when his ears started functioning again, he paused when he heard the laughter just above him.
"Yeah, black licorice is the worst!" It said in a feminine tone.
He shifted his body and looked upwards, eyes regaining their sight as he stared into something impossible. It was smiling down at him with concern, which was as bothersome as when he realized what it was.
A duck. A big white duck was looking down at him.. and as he looked down and felt the touch on his body. It was holding him, like all of him.
He felt confusion, fear, and frantic all at the same time.
This big white anthropomorphic duck kept speaking to him, but he wasn't able to focus as he brought his gaze down to his body. His very small body, didn't feel real as he lifted both hands and started rolling down the sleeves.
Revealing the two very white limbs hidden underneath it, whiter than his heritage and too white to be considered.. human. He didn't feel himself shaking as he brought both hands up to his face, feeling an odd protrusion as he glanced down at it. His hands were grabbing onto an orange beak.
When did he..
His brain couldn't comprehend the sight of his body, and the sight of the big white duck wearing an outdated aviation get up. It had elongated hair, so it was female, but that didn't matter.
What mattered was how she looked down at him with what he could tell was a concern, she spoke down at him again and gave him a little shake, but he didn't respond. Instead looking back down at his exposed hands once more before his eyes rolled back and he promptly passed out in her grasp.
The stress of the day's events took everything out of him, mentally and physically. So he embraced the darkness taking over him.
He woke up for the third time today and pushed himself up into a sitting position in an instant. His eyes scanned the area around him and he narrowed his eyes in confusion at the sight, he was inside a building of some sort. If the metal interior and very futuristic design of things weren't a tell-tale sign, he then shifted and looked down at his body. Noticed that he wasn't wearing his flight suit, instead of wearing the undershirt he usually wears, and only his undershirt.
White hands flew down to cover his private regions, though paused when his lower half showed no sign of his shame. Instead, he fixed his new hands on his shirt, it seemed to have been cut in the middle in order to fit on him and his new body.
He briefly glanced at his feet, short orange and webbed appendages replaced his legs, before he pressed hands against his head and sighed. This situation turned from improbable, to impossible, and straight back into impossible with every revelation.
He'd turned into a very short anthropomorphic duck when he was clearly human during his flight through the storm.
He wanted to deny all of this, but it was all too real to try and deny. Real that he crashed his jet into the moon, real that he got dragged into a freak storm, and very real that he was spat out and turned into a duck.
"Hmm," he groaned, running a hand over his head and noticing that his feathers, or hair, was longer than it was as a human. It was much longer than his preferred crew cut, draping over his eyes and obscuring his vision.
But he didn't dwell too much on that, instead of figuring out his situation now that he was stuck on the flipping moon, with another talking anthropomorphic duck!
'If this situation wasn't already insane..'
He sat there for a moment before a distant sound caught his attention, turning and looking as he watched as part of the building slid open and closed as the duck that saved him walked in. Hauling something behind her in a worn-out bag.
He then looked back down at where he was sitting and noticed that his flight suit was actually bundled up beneath him. But he noticed that he was elevated, leaning forwards and looking down, he saw the legs of a table.
So he was sitting at a table. Nice.
He looked back up and looked at the duck, who'd let the bag go and turned her glanced over to him. Her whole demand shifted and she flipped her goggles back over her head, revealing widened eyes as she jumped and immediately closed the distance. Ending up in front of him in a matter of seconds.
This caused him to recoil in surprise at the closeness, his leaned position caused his center of gravity to skew and he fell forwards. Arms spreading and cycling before two hands grabbed around his waist and stopped his fall.
He let out a sigh and looked up at her, opening his mouth to thank her before she beat him to talk.
Her grin was bright as she looked down at him "Haha! Della makes the save, again!" Before picking him up and placing him back down on his bundled suit again.
Did he grimace at the remembrance of the crash before parting his lips, beak? Whatever he opened his mouth and finally spoke.
"Thank you" he started, momentarily reeling at his voice. It sounded so young and unlike his usual voice "I would've been a goner if you didn't appear out of nowhere and-" he paused as the sudden taste of black licorice filled his taste buds again. A grimace formed as he used his tongue to roll the gum to the middle of his tongue. "-and gave me the, uh, breath of life?" He finished.
She leaned back and bounced, lifting off the ground before slowly falling back to the ground.
'Right, moon gravity' he told himself.
"Well, it was more like the gum of life! Buuuut, I still technically gave you it so-" she dragged out the response and he simply gave a small smile in response. She was way too energetic for being on the moon of all things.
"Sucks that it tastes like black licorice" he muttered to himself, still taking in the fact that this was all real.
She immediately agreed "definitely! I told Gyro that no one likes the taste, buuuut no! The only source of nutrients had to be flavored so terribly" she huffed out with her arms crossed. "And the taste never goes away!"
He watched her silly and boisterous reaction with an unmoving expression, lips firmly pressed against one another as he moved the badly tasting gum around with his tongue as he looked down at the ground as she rambled on to herself. Taking in the picture of his bright white feathers, that replaced the skin that he used to have, and the legs and feet he once sported, were now webbed feet. Cartoonishly large and unnatural webbed feet.
"Gyro?" He found himself repeating. Testing out the strange name with his new voice as he slowly turned his head back up to look at the larger duck.
She leaned forwards, way too close for comfort "oh! Yeah, Gyros, a friend of my uncle Scrooge, invents cool stuff for him all the time! He also helped build this rocket.. but I designed it!"
'Rocketship?' His mind brightened at the sudden name. He snapped his up down to his hands before looking over and noticing a circular window near another table with things stacked onto it. Seeing the gray surface of the moon behind it.
Yet another factor that drove the idea that he was stuck on the moon. That he had crash landed on the moon.
That did explain a bit. Though the prospect did make him perk up a bit "so that means you can take us back to earth?" He hopefully asked.
That's when her demeanor dropped and she gave an awkward grin, visibly recoiling before shaking her head and puffing out her chest
"Of course! Nothing can stop Della duck!" She proclaimed. Before letting out the and grinning awkwardly "as soon as I'm able to signal a rescue ship.." she finished.
"Oh." He said in disappointment. His mind was still hopeful at the prospect of rescue ships still coming at some point in time and getting the both of them out of there and back to... Well, he wasn’t sure what he was going to get back to.
“Is there… any progress?” he questioned again, still feeling awkward at the sound of his higher pitched voice.
"Not at the moment, but I'm confident with all the videos I've been sending back to earth and the message I left outside, I'm sure Scrooge'll be able to get me, well, us out of here!" she said while keeping her tone as energetic and upbeat as she could.
‘And back to earth…’ he found himself circling back to that earlier idea of being back on earth.
'Ah geez,' he mentally sighed at everything his mind was taking in.
"Hopefully" he simply responded. Not sure how else to respond as he took another look at the duck, Della. That name was also vaguely familiar, though not as familiar as Scrooge… Scrooge McDuck…
He briefly looked over to her metal leg, it looked crudely made, but functional. Then back up at her as she was just fixated on him with a large toothy grin.
'Teeth?' He thought in shock. Using his tongue to feel around the inside of his mouth instead of the gum, he was shocked to find actual teeth.
"So.." she started, dragging his attention away from the groundbreaking discovery he made.
"Yes?" he quietly responded.
"What's your name?"
"Chris.."
"Alrighty, Chris! How exactly did.. y'know, crash on the moon?"
He grinned awkwardly at that. Since he wasn't all too sure about that either, one second he was doing a routine flight, the next he was flying through some sort of cosmic storm.
"I'm not all too sure about that myself" he admitted "I didn't even mean to be in space, much less on the moon." He sighed.
"Do you know how you got here Chris?"
He shifted "honestly no, I was perfectly fine for a moment before all of the sudden I was thrown into a freak storm and then.." he waved his hand "I'm here.. and looking like this," he said in reference to his new form.
Della stared at Chris for a moment with raised eyebrows "what do you mean?"
"I'm not sure how to explain it, just.. the storm pulled my plane into it and dropped me in outer space," Chris said with a huff, crossing his arms and looking towards the ground "plus, I'm feeling and sounding 17 years younger than I was before this."
"What did the storm look like?" She asked, entirely ignoring the part about him being seventeen years younger than he was supposed to be. Instead seemingly fixated on that freak storm that he was subjected to back on earth. His earth.
"Purple, lots and lots of purple clouds, lightning too."
"That's a lot like the cosmic storm that trapped me on the moon a year ago!" She exclaimed.
'She's been stuck on the moon for a whole year?' Chris thought to himself.
"But that happened to me like a day ago, how does that add up?"
"I don't know! But now I know that we're twinsies!"
His face twisted with some form of morbid amusement at her declaration "not sure that's something to be excited over, now that both of us are trapped here indefinitely."
She shook her head "I'm confident that Scrooge will find us." Which felt more like a reassurance to herself than a reassurance to Chris. Which didn’t help to reassure his own lingering and growing fears.
'She'd already been here for a year, who's to say that they don't already think she's dead?' he thought to himself, tuning out Della for a moment as he looked down at his hands, opening them and closing them a few times as he let out another sigh.
"Then I'll be hopeful," he sighed. Eyes once again roamed around the interior of the ship with an innate interest as he pressed both of his feathery palms together in thought. Which was all he could do to stop his own mind from starting to deconstruct itself due to the irregularity and absurdity of this situation.
He dropped his hands down and between his crossed legs, expecting to feel the cold sensation of the metal table he was sitting on. Though was pleasantly surprised as he felt some sort of fabric against him, he shifted himself and spread his legs, looking down at the fabric that he now recognized as his flight suit. He thumbed over the parts that he had in his hands before he was interrupted.
There was a pause before Della gasped and turned around "I almost forgot!" Before quickly moving towards the bag she dropped earlier. She bent down and picked it up before walking back over towards Chris, she stuck both hands inside of it and lifted it up off the ground, letting the latch of the bag fall and revealing a makeshift cake-looking object.
He tilted his head back up as she strode back over to him, his head unconsciously tilting as his eyes flicked down to the cake she was holding, or at least, what looked to be a cake. His questioning disposition was enough to make Della grin, though it wasn’t a grin that matched her onslaught of excitement.
"My kid's birthday! They're turning a year old as of today" she said with excitement. Bouncing slightly in place as one handed the cake and using another hand to mess with the shape of the cake. Molding and smoothing it down to its original shape.
'That's a bit sad' Chris thought as the reality of that tidbit hit him. If they're turning a year old, then she birthed them when went into space and got stranded. Which brought up another question in his mind. Why exactly did she even go into space if she was in the process of dealing with childbirth?
"Oh," he resorted to nodding as she turned away and walked over to the table that was opposite the one he was sitting on. She placed the weird cake-looking thing on the table and started messing with the screen sitting on the table. Her hands went up to the many buttons and switches, messing with it for a second before the screen flickered on. Though it was just a lot of static instead of anything useful, maybe it was to her, he wasn't sure.
She then swiveled around in her chair and looked back towards him, using her legs to push herself back towards him and the table that he was sitting on. His thoughts were interrupted as he focused on her once again, letting his grip on the fabric fall as he noticed her raise her arms up and out towards him. He noticed the wear and tear that her jacket sustained, with one of the sleeves being missing and the other being ripped entirely, her only sporting one instead of two gloves, with one of her arms being bandaged. Then to her gesture, he lingered over his suit as he stood silent until she acquiesced.
"I gotta show everyone back home that I've got another duck to save, cmon!" She leaned forwards.
The static of the television screen didn’t help to sway or turn his mind away from her offer. He looked at her for a moment before moving his hands upwards and meeting one of hers as she quickly grasped onto his before using her other arm to wrap around the rest of his body and lifting him upwards. She adjusted him in her arms for a moment before she used her feet to spin that chair back around and push them back over to where she set up the screen.
Chris turned his head and looked down at the intricate instruments and technology that seemed so different yet familiar in a way, though it still held that idea that made it seem more advanced than what humans would’ve made back where he was from. He steadied herself in her arms as she removed one of her arms and used it to presumably mess with the board of buttons and switches before them. After a few moments, she brought her arm back to where it originally was keeping him held in her arms.
"There we go.. now" she looks back towards the screen before looking down at him, he looked up at her in return and nodded as she manipulated his body around so that he was also facing the screen. She then went back to messing with the buttons with an arm as he took interest in looking at himself through the reflection of the blackened screen, really driving in the fact that he was now a small, white, and apparently childlike anthropomorphic duck. His eyes were wide and paralleled every movement that he made, the hair on top of his head was formed into long strands that hung around his head.
He went to bring a hand up to feel at his face again before he was interrupted by Della.
"Aha!" She said as the screen finally started shifting and scrambling into the mix of grey and white static that you would find in between channels until it quickly fizzled out and show a clear picture of the two of them, and the cake on the table in front of them. She then moved him up and onto the table, letting go as he sat down and crossed his legs before she sat back and turned back towards the screen.
As soon as she did that, she started singing the happy birthday song on the screen. Keeping herself as enthusiastic as ever as she finally ended the song "I know that I can't be there for your birthday, but I'm trying, and now that-" she paused and grabbed Chris again and pulled him into view "-ive got a new friend to save, my efforts have increased two hundred percent!" She exclaimed before setting him back down.
"When I do get back, it's going to be so awesome!" she exclaimed while moving to blow out the flare. Failing to do so before she grabbed it and stuffed it into the cake, its form bubbling and turning amorphous as it lost its shape. She quickly tried to fix its shape as she continued talking to the camera but was interrupted as a loud roar shook the ship.
Chris was immediately confused at the sound as he looked over towards the window of the ship, he was about to say something but Della spoke up first. She grits her teeth and leaped off her chair, stomping over towards the window. "Oh no! You're NOT gonna ruin this for me-" she let out a gasp as she pressed herself up against the window.
She then pushed off the window and back into the view of the screen "even better, you're going to get your mom for your birthday!" Before turning towards him "Chris, c'mon!" As she spun on a dime and rushed towards the exit.
Chris sat there confused at the sudden turn of events for a moment before placing both hands against the table and hopping off of it. Another roar rocked the ship and caused him to widen his eyes in concern as he stumbled onto the floor.
'What the hell is she trying to do out there?' He quickly questioned before getting up and moving to where he originally woke up, he jumped and grabbed onto the top of the table. Pushing himself up with a grunt, he reached forwards and grabbed at his flight suit, using a hand to pat around at it until he landed on something. He grinned and wormed his hand underneath it until he grabbed onto what he was looking for.
He grasped onto it and pulled it out, revealing his pistol holster, he didn't bother trying to undo the whole thing and simply unclasped the strap before pulling out the firearm. Then he hopped back onto the ground, stumbling back before turning and moving to where Della ran out.
His thumb flicked over the safety on the pistol instinctively as the doors slid open, letting him step out onto the moon's gray surface. He fumbled with his grip on the gun as his hands were smaller than before and came to a stop as he looked around. Turning around, he noticed that Della and a ginormous monster were fighting each other. Or at least, Della was fighting it, the monster just looked like it was mildly annoyed at her. The conflict caused a giant cloud of dust to cover the air above them.
He just rushed over as she was thrown back and aimed his gun up at the monster, he tensed himself and fingered the trigger. The muted action of the pistol fired a 9mm bullet directly into its side, causing great effect as it screeched and flipped around to look down at him. Chris widens his eyes and fires two more times at it, stopping it in its tracks as it recoiled in pain. The bright green blood that was seeping started floating as it leaped back and looked down to the ground, digging its legs into the ground. He brought his gun down and watched as it quickly tunneled into the ground and disappeared.
The safety was flicked back on and he turned his attention to where Della sat looking at the sky. Lowering his gun and moving over towards her, he stopped and looked up to where she was looking. Noticed the disheartening sight of a distant ship going in the opposite direction, back towards earth.
He closed his eyes and let himself slump down onto his butt as he let out another sigh.
Chapter 2: Chapter 2
Summary:
After the fact.
Chapter Text
Chris found himself sitting on the very table that he woke up on a while ago, his head propped up by his arms as he sat down with his legs crossed. There was no clear thought process going on in his head as he let his eyes look around the interior of the ship, sighing as he looked over the same metal panel for what seemed like the hundredth time. The idea of being stuck on this God forsaken rock for the foreseeable future just made him want to let out a few choice words at no one in particular. Also the fact that there were aliens, of all the things that he needed in this type of situation, a giant monstrous alien that burrows underground is lurking around outside, was just insane.
Which doesn't even cover the fact of that even more insane idea of him being stuck on the moon without a space suit, without the necessary supplies, and not even as the same species! It was completely and utterly outrageous. He wasn't sure how he wasn't even curling in on himself and breaking down at the utter insanity of all of this, but thinking back to his near death experience at the hands of that cosmic storm. It was probably that fact that helped his mind cope with this new situation.
Even if his own explanation was filled with holes in the logistics of it all. But trying to focus his own brain power on how exactly any of this was actually plausible was just going to do more harm to him than it would help him. At this point, accepting what happened and moving forwards so that he and Della.. his train of thought paused.
'That's right.. Della Duck' he found himself mentally saying to himself. The female duck that kept referring to herself as unstoppable. But with every single time that she kept saying that phrase with the unchanging determination in her voice, it caused him to cringe in a certain way, mainly because she always dignified a serious question from him with "Nothing stops Della Duck! Trust me, Chris!" and it just caused him to sigh. His earlier thoughts of hope of actually getting off this space rock were faltering with how real the situation continues getting, with the adrenaline of his actual arrival on the moon, he's had more time to think. Despite how skewed his own mind was at the moment, he has been trying to rationalize his thoughts and normalize the supplementary train of thoughts that are sure to follow.
Now he wasn't quite sure if just accepting and moving on was the best thing for him.. it was just..
He let out a small sigh. He was thinking of way too many things all at once, it was time for him to calm down and actually focus on one thing instead of getting distracted and spiraling all at once again.
Della Duck. That's what he was focusing on right now. The female duck that had an albeit ironic naming about her, it kept reminding him of a specific duck back on earth that was always used as a form of comedic relief. Though he also moonlighted as one of the most powerful wizards in Kingdom Hearts, funnily enough. But that was just him getting sidetracked again. There was no way that this duck was even related to Donald Duck in that sense, since him existing separately than what Disney created was entirely implausible, impossible even.
This was just all so confusing, he shook his head and pressed both of his hands against his face and took in a deep breath.
'So very confusing..' he mentally groaned while dropping his hands back down to his lap and glancing around the empty ship once again. The other inhabitant of the ship having gone for another one of her important scavenging trips over the surface of the plane, it was like the tenth one today, if a day even passed that is.
Chris found her determination and overall cheerful attitude towards their situation endearing, despite how annoying it was, it was as if she didn't recognize that the two of them were literally defying every law that humanity has come up with to explain the rules of the universe. But she was a literal walking and talking duck, so he guessed that it was reasonable to say that whatever was abnormal for him, was completely normal for her. Because never in his life would he ever believe himself to have gone to the moon, neither would he have ever believed that he could be stranded on the moon without a suit, without any pressurized spaceships, and with no food whatsoever.
Also the fact that he was a child, and a duck.
The gum that he'd been chewing on for the longest time didn't even come close to quelling his disbelief over its anomalous effects on the two of them, he would love to have a really long conversation with whoever created this reality defying gum in the future. For one, to ask him why the hell he decided that black licorice was a great flavor for an astronaut to be continuously ingesting in their body, and two, to ask him how exactly chewing gum nullified the bodily effects that came with being exposed to the vacuum of space.
"And I'm spiraling..." he muttered to himself. Snapping out of his thoughts and readjusting himself on his flight suit that he used as a makeshift table cloth. It was the only useful thing that he could make of it, seeing as it's now too big for him to even consider wearing, even the part of the t-shirt that he was wearing was barely fitting him. It didn't help that it was ridiculously cold on the moon.
A smaller body meant less mass to help keep the warmth in. So him shivering every so often was the norm.
He glanced down besides him, specifically at his sidearm. The only real thing that he could use to defend himself now that he one hundred percent knew that there were aliens on the moon, but he was limited on the amount of times he could shoot the thing before it became utterly useless. There was only one other magazine that he had for this pistol, but it was partially empty and damaged due to the crash that he experienced.
His left hand ran along the metal of the firearm for a moment before he shook his head and pushed it off more to the side, instead turning his head to focus on the sound of the entrance sliding open. With it followed the overly excited and boisterous voice of the one and only-
"Della Duck is back!" she interrupted his thoughts as she walked into the room. A makeshift metal sled was crafted using some rope and what seemed to be a panel from the side of the rocket. What was more intriguing was the fact that she was dragging along large pieces of metal on that sled, ones that he could recognize from his jet. Though more specifically the large piece of engine that was at the center of the sled.
It was a bit confusing to see the hunks of metal there but he reasoned the most obvious answer, she was actually going to try and rebuild her rocket.
"Hi Della." Chris responded after a moment. Sliding himself forwards and hopping off of the table he was sitting on, he took a moment to adjust to the drastically different sense of gravity before walking over to where she was looking over the pile. Only pausing to flash him a grin "Hi Chris!" before busying herself with the jet pieces again.
"I'm assuming you went back to my crash site?" he questioned. Garnering a nod.
"Your assumption is right, mi amigo!" she cheerfully responded. Holding up two pieces of what he could assume were from the landing gear, if the shredded pieces of rubber were anything but telling. She looked like she was contemplating something before shaking her head and tossing the landing gear behind her. A loud clattering sound caused him to cringe.
"There were lots of things on your ship that I could use to fix my ship, but not a lot of it was left when I actually got there.." she admitted.
"Meaning?"
Her face skewed into one of frustration as she looked over another piece of metal, this time it was littered with bite marks. Making it easy for him to assume what exactly she meant. That weird alien creature that attacked them prior. It randomly decided that it was just going to ruin the remains of his fallen aircraft without even knowing exactly what it was, or maybe it did know exactly what it was and what exactly it was doing in that moment.
'How despicable..' he muttered in his mind. "Well.. damn." was the only thing that he could find coming out of his mouth, and in this situation, it seemed like the best thing to do was speak his mind.
The physical change that he went through did nothing to change the way that he would normally act in a situation as ridiculous as this one was, he kneeled down on his feet and scooted closer to the pile as Della managed to haul the whole engine into her arms. Didn't really seem like she cared much if he did use curses, even if he was looking like a child, strange. He stared at her feat of strength for a moment before rationalizing that they were on the moon so gravity was not as harsh as it was on Earth, ergo her being able to haul that combustion engine up and into the air with no problem.
"A-Ha! see Chris? I was totally right!" she said with a prideful tone as she stood up and quickly waddled her way over to another table on the opposite side of the room. A grin was flashed to him before she quickly went to fiddle with its components. Leaving Chris to sit there with a bit of a creased brow.
This was exactly what he was talking about when she was way too care free about literally everything..
"Uh.. Della?" he said after a moment of internal thoughts. Mindlessly fondling one of the more unrecognizable pieces of the planet before turning and looking over his shoulder. Watching as she suddenly stopped trying to wrench off the side of the engine to look inside of and turned back to him, lifting up her goggles and raising a brow. "Yeah Chris?" she questioned.
"When you say you're going to use the pieces of my jet to fix the rocket, were you also going to include the engine that you're handling right now?" he said the one thing that popped into his head as soon as she wrapped her hands around that engine. How exactly was she going to fix a rocket engine with a combustion engine? He wasn't a rocket scientist but he could definitely tell that they were two entirely different things that were built with two very different environments in mind.
For example, his was made to traverse earth's atmosphere at super sonic levels versus the giant rocket that was meant to be able to withstand the unhospitable and alien frontier that was space.
He was one hundred percent sure that the metal that jets used for their relatively thin heat shields, were entirely outclassed when having the latter ones in mind.
Overall, he was wondering what exactly she was thinking.
She didn't hesitate to nod her head. "Of course! I know how to take apart and rebuild plane engines back home, so why shouldn't this be any different?" she said before glancing back over to the table and running a hand over one of the many grooves and carved out instances along its side.
"Probably because that's a combustion engine.." he reasoned. Dropping the random piece of metal in his hands and pushing himself back onto his feet, turning over to her and walking up to where she was working. He jumped up and climbed up and onto the table. Pointing over to the hole opposite of the exhaust nozzle "and these engines are mainly powered by fans, pressure compressors, and sparks... hence the name, combustion engine" he said with a small sigh. Or you could also say its a turbo fan, but he preferred 'combustion engine' it sounded cooler.
"I know how a combustion engine works Chris." Della said while turning the engine around so that she could look in and see the fans for herself. "Or.. at least I remember knowing how one of these engines worked.." she said after a moment. Laughing a bit as she rubbed at the back of her head "after Uncle Scrooge hired Gyro I didn't really need to focus on fixing and tuning the engines myself" she admitted.
He shook his head "But you're still well aware of the fact that we both know well in fact that a combustion engine is not meant to go into space, right?" to which she nodded. Though the nod was visible from the back of her head as she hadn't turned to look back at Chris once he was quick to point out the problem. Making him jump to the conclusion that she wasn't really paying attention to him in the last half.
"Jesus Christ.." he whispered to himself. A hand palming against his face as he turned around.
"Who?" Della perked up once again. To which he simply let out a sigh.
Chapter 3
Summary:
Two weeks have passed.
Chapter Text
Chris had taken to marking off the number of days that the two of them had been stuck on the moon ever since he spotted the makeshift calendar in the center of the room, it was a bit of a depressing number now that he actually took a step back and added all of the tally marks together. From what Della told him already, he knew that she had already spent the better part of a year up here. So he took to marking that down in the top corner of the calendar just to keep track of time, it helped to maintain a semblance of normality, at least. He would think so. Seeing as it’d already been about two weeks, both of them really should’ve been dead by now.
But this black licorice-flavored gum seemed to do the impossible. For one, it never ran out of its flavor, joy. The more important thing was that it kept him alive. He wouldn’t waste any more time trying to understand the science or logistics behind it most likely because it would be more probable than him being stuck on the moon.
Would spacesuits even be necessary if every astronaut just used this gum to completely negate the effects of space? Did Della even wear one on her trip up here? That's something he would have to ask later.. speaking of Della.
A year and two weeks was the count for her, and two weeks was the beginning of the count for him, he really hoped that she would find some sort of way to get out of this situation as she’d promised him. Seeing as he was at a disadvantage with his smaller body there wasn’t much he could be confident in doing to try and further their escape from the moon, he hadn’t really ever stepped out of the inside of the rocket besides the brief moment where they were attacked by that alien. It reminded him of the ordinary mite you would find back on earth. But it seemed that this one was a hundred times the size and was able to spit acid from its mouth and preferred to eat metal.
He dropped the piece of chalk that was conveniently left on the table before hopping off of the seat that helped him reach the board and walking towards the center of the room, turning to take one more look at the tally marks before shaking his head and walking over towards the table where he left his gun at. Quickly pulling his upper body up so that he was looking over the table, he grabbed onto the holster and unlatched it, grabbing onto the grip of the gun before pulling it with him as he dropped back onto the floor. He stumbled but was able to keep himself stable.
He inspected his weapons in his small hands for a moment, eyeing the two-toned metal it was made from before looking up at the doorway. The number of times he actually used his gun could be counted on a single hand. Excluding the times he practiced at the range, he only ever fired this gun in self-defense four times, the fourth being the start of his being marooned here. Wasting two bullets so that the termite alien would retreat, Injured? He wasn't sure, but he doubted it. The caliber of his pistol wouldn't put down a lion unless it was aimed at its head.
But nevertheless, he made sure that the safety was flicked on, not wanting to accidentally shoot himself or Della. He didn't need her taking it away from him either, yet there seemed to be a slim chance of that happening. Della didn't really seem to be bothered that he was a literal child, in physical form. Even if he kept his mind, he still found it so weird that she wouldn't be at least a bit concerned with him looking so young.
He kept a firm grip on the cold metal of the firearm before dropping his hands to his sides and walking towards the doorway. The sensor flashed briefly before the door slid open, letting the sight of the grey landscape be littered with crushed metal pieces of the rocket ship. Not as much as he saw originally, though that might've been the work of the mite.
He swallowed a sigh before immediately recoiling as the taste of the black licorice flashed into his taste buds once again. Letting out a small "ugh." Before stepping out into the cold atmosphere, the gravity was a tad bit looser than inside the rocket ship, most likely due to it having some sort of built-in gravity manipulation thing. He wasn't sure, thinking back to all those sci-fi movies didn't help much.
A small unnatural breeze swept his hair over his eyes, annoying and confusing him at the same time because the wind on the moon of all things was insane. He reached his free hand up and swept his hair back and out of his eyes, mentally noting that he would need to cut it short whenever he got the chance. If he ever got the chance, that is.
He continued walking until he was a good distance from the ship, stopping and turning around, he placed a hand on his hip and admired the wreckage. A much prettier site than his own.
Though one has to wonder how exactly a rocket ship crash-landed on the moon without killing everyone and destroying everything in it. He could understand surviving a plane crash because there were many different things you could do to prevent yourself from dying. But in a rocket ship? In space no less, seemed like a death trap.
He much preferred getting shot down and ejecting more than blowing up in a rocket ship.
A chill running up his spine made him snap out of his thoughts and grip the pistol with both hands, spinning around to face whatever. Albeit the spin was slower due to the gravity, he still could hold the pistol at a leveled position and looked up to see.
"Woah there, cowboy!"
Oh. It was just Della.
He sighed in relief before dropping his tensed stance, and looking up at the female duck who was holding up her hands with a grin. Chuckling to herself at her own joke for a few moments before placing her hands on her hips and looking down at Chris.
"Quick to the draw, aren't you?" She said in reference to his quick response. To which he simply shrugged, having flown in and out of active combat zones just gave him an extra layer when in a foreign area. The more surprising thing was her lack of response.
"You get a gun drawn on you and that's your response?" He asked with a tilt of his head. Still wondering how she just casually brushed it off like it was nothing.
"Wouldn't be the first time!" She said in an ever-cheerful tone. "My brother and I had adventures all the time with our uncle Scrooge, you might know him?" She said with a pause.
"Yes, the richest duck in the world." He nodded, even if he wasn't from there, he knew well enough who Scrooge was.
'A billion-million.. or was it a billion-kajillion dollars?' He internally mused. That duck was stupid rich.
"Well, he's also the best adventurer! We traveled all over the world and discovered countless priceless artifacts!" She divulged.
"Ah.. I see where this is going." He muttered to himself. It was like a Nathan Drake type of ordeal, maybe even Lara Croft. What's an adventurer without all the gun-toting mercenaries hired to kill said adventurer?
He already came to the conclusion and she was still dragging out her explanation, he really didn't need to know that she met a literal God. It was interesting, yes, but he could revel in awe when they were in space!
"So…" he said after a moment of rambling.
"Ah! Right, sorry." She rubbed the back of her head. "My brother usually stops me when I ramble on too long." She trailed off once again.
Chris felt a bit awkward as she paused, not sure how to quite respond before she shook her head and let another grin slip onto her face. "Anyways! Scrooge's enemies were always trying to stop us from getting the artifacts, most of the time in the form of hired guns!" She finished.
"Ah." He said after another pause. "Sounds.. fun?" He said in more of a questioning tone than actually responding.
She nodded."It was very fun."
'Geez..' he said to himself.
"But anyways!" She said before turning around and bending down, causing him to try and glance behind her as she rifled through a previously unseen bag. He took a note in the back of his head to ask more about her adventures with her brother and Scrooge. Because thinking back to when he was younger, he and his brother both used to watch Ducktales. This is where he originally knew about Scrooge Mcduck, Donald of course was from a lot of other different movies and media pieces that had him alongside Mickey mouse.
So if Donald and Scrooge existed in this universe, and if Della was related to Donald then…
"Whatcha got there?" He said after the thought.
"Well, there were a lot of things scattered when my rocket crashed, and I mean a lot." She said with emphasis.
"Yeah?" He said to her as he absentmindedly checked to see if his handgun was on safety, feeling a small bit of embarrassment as it was still left off when Della snuck up on him. He quickly flicked it back on before looking back up at Della, who was now holding what seemed to be what he only approximated to be some engine block. It couldn't belong to his plane because she already had it and a few other pieces of it already in the rocket.
"Oh, is that an engine?" He inquired.
She nodded. "Yes! Well, part of one." She admitted, adjusting it in her grasp as she gave it a once over before turning to place it back in her bag. "The engine to my rocket was missing a chunk out of it, and just a moment ago, I found it!" She said with a bounce as she turned to face him.
“So you know how to fix rockets?” he said with renewed interest. He previously had the idea in his head that she was some sort of or at least, experienced with the theory of rocket science, seeing as she was a pilot back on Earth, it just seemed reasonable. Also because she was always out and actively trying to find ways to fix the rocket, he just assumed that she knew exactly what she was doing and that all this bravado that she always had around her came from that prior knowledge. “You’ve gotta be some sort of rocket scientist if you’re able to fix the rocket, right?”
Or maybe she was just saving face and acting like that even though it was well-known that the situation was less than favorable.
He tilted his head as she seemed to pause at his assumption, her eyes widened and mouth agape, making his hope slowly dwindle as it took longer and longer for her to respond. “Weeeeell, hah..” she started. Not giving him any sort of good thoughts as she brought her hands up and pressed both index fingertips together, his shoulders hunched and she gave him a strained smile. “Not exactly?”
‘Not exactly?’ he repeated in his head. His gaze turned to the floor for a moment as he took time to register what exactly she said to him before he nodded and looked back up at her. “Not exactly? What do you mean, not exactly?” his voice rose at the end of that statement, but he took in a breath before repeating himself with a calmer tone. “What do you mean ‘not exactly?’” as he crossed his arms and gazed up at her daunt demeanor.
She let out another chuckle. Rubbing at the back of her head like the many other times that she seemed to do whenever he asked her questions regarding the situation, though this time he wouldn’t accept one of her dismissive and upbeat distractions. He was counting on her actually knowing what she was doing and intentionally didn’t do anything to try and hamper her from focusing. But now that he knew for a fact that instead didn’t know what she was doing, he would have to actually try and figure out a way off of this forsaken rock himself.
He let out a small sigh at her silence. “Whatever, don’t answer that question,” he said with a wave of his hand. He didn’t want to hear an excuse. Instead, he took in another deep breath and turned to look back toward the rocket. Was he mad? Yes, very mad and frustrated. But there was no wasting his anger and driving a wall between the two of them, that would just continue to hamper their attempts to get off the moon.
“Just answer me this, how exactly are you going to fix the rocket if you don’t know how to?” he said while turning back to her, taking his eyes off of the image of the broken rocket and rubbing a hand over his eyes. The tired feeling he’d been trying to ignore came back as this revelation surfaced. “And I’d like an answer that is actually an answer,” he said in reference to her previous statements.
"Well.." she dragged on again. "I do have a book on rocket science?" She said like she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince him.
At that he facepalmed, again.
"Oh. Della.." he muttered.
Chapter 4
Summary:
Rocket Science is obviously very hard to pick up immediately. Especially when the book you're reading is on the cusp of destruction.
Chapter Text
It took him a bit of time to actually find that book that Della referenced two days ago, partly because he was distracted by Della's antics, and the other because he was getting more and more tired, he hadn’t really felt this type of exhaustion since his days in flight school. But thankfully he was able to finally find it, Della gave him a very unhelpful hint when he asked for her assistance, shrugging her shoulders with a little ‘’Dunno,” before tossing a bent piece of metal over her shoulder. This caused the interior of the rocket to shake and like the plot of a terrible movie, it fell right on his head.
And when Della said she had a rocket science book, he expected it to be in better condition than what he is currently looking at in his hands. While it was a book aptly named “Owners Manual,” it was how it seemed to have been ripped into hundreds of pieces before it was stitched back together with what appeared to be a mix of duck tape and glue. His confusion was evident as he tilted his head to the side while flipping the book around, glancing over the back and making sure that it wouldn’t immediately collapse in on itself if he tried messing with it.
‘Geez, I could breathe on this the wrong way and it would disintegrate.’ he mused internally. ‘What the hell even happened for it to get this way?’ since it literally looked like someone tore the pages and more surprisingly, the cover of the book into tatters.
“Right, so..” he mused out loud. Looking up from the book and over to where Della was currently messing with the monitor, muttering very unintelligible things to herself as she fiddled with a knob controlling whether or not the monitor would display static or not. He had to raise his voice in order to grab her attention, “Della,” he would say while walking over towards her. He paused as the monitor suddenly flicked over to its usual black color, the little red dot at the top right flashing repeatedly as she took a step back and raised her arms up in celebration.
“HA! Take that you worthles-” though he was quick to interrupt her.
“Della,” with slight amusement in his voice, he tapped at her pant leg and promptly raised the book in the air when she looked down at him in confusion.
“Yeah, Chris?” she said before fully turning around and looking down at the book in his hands, sheepishly grinning as he looked back down at it. “Oh! you found the manual…” before rubbing the back of her hand and looking away. Causing him to narrow his eyes.
“Kinda hard to find it, but my main question is what happened?” as he flipped the book over so that she could see what he was looking at, even if he had a growing suspicion that she was the one that caused the tears. “Like, did this thing get wrecked in the crash or something? Because I sincerely doubt the crash would shred this thing the way it is,” he said with a bit of a chuckle. Not because he found it funny, but more in the fact that he had a habit of laughing in situations like these.
“Well, that’s probably because I got a bit angry when I couldn’t-” though Chris stopped her there. A hand once again found itself palming onto his face as he fought the urge to say, ‘Oh Della,’ for what seemed like the hundredth time in such a short time span. He let out a small groan at the revelation and rubbed his face before putting two fingers alongside his nose, well, beak. Before exhaling and pressing the book against his chest, glancing up at her very guilty expression, he didn’t outwardly express his frustration. Instead choosing to ignore it and move on to what they were going to do now.
“Ah phooey, I messed up again didn’t I?” she said in a saddened tone. Which caused a sense of guilt to form in Chris as he thought over their current situation and the fact that she’d been here for well over a year, it was more understandable than not. He’d seen her rage over not being able to fit a piece of metal into another one, her face turning beet red as she lifted both of them into the air and slammed them down. So this was something that he should’ve expected.
“I’m not going to sugar coat it, but yes, this was almost a big mistake,” he said while opening the book to a random page and silently scanning the page. “And I say almost because you still managed to fix this and make it so the words are actually legible,” he said while internally breathing a sigh of relief. Her face changed into a small smile as he closed the book, “but we have to control that temper of yours,” then it changed into another sheepish grin.
Though that might be a little easier said than done. If Donald’s anger was anything to go by.
So he rephrased it, “Well, control it to the point where you don’t almost destroy the key to getting us both off the moon, okay?” he said with a tilt of his head. He watched her face morph into a few different facial expressions as she stared down at him, it made his resolve falter slightly as she remained silent for a few more moments. “..Della?” he said to her silence.
But she seemed to snap out of it as soon as he tugged at her pant leg once again, nodding her head as she bent down to his level, his eyes flicking down to her creaking prosthetic before looking at her.
“The anger kind of runs in the family, but I’ll try not to punch a hole through our only way out of here,” she said in reference to when she literally punched a hole into the hull of the ship. How exactly? He wasn’t sure in the slightest. But he simply nodded with a small grin.
“Hopefully,” he said before drumming his fingers along the book. “But anyways, yeah,” before turning his head to look at the cushioned seat that sat just beneath the chalkboard, “I’ll just see what I can get from this, you can keep doing whatever you’re doing with,” he paused and glanced up at the table as Della tilted her head. “Well, whatever you’re doing I’m just gonna - sit,” before he gave her another small smile and started walking in the couch's direction.
Once he did pull himself up onto the couch and sat back against its cushion, he let out a small sigh before dropping the book in his lap and looking over to where Della got back to her feet and looked over at him. He gave her a small grin before letting all of his attention get taken by the owners manual in his lap, flipping the cover open and looking at the first page, which was a complete diagram of what the ship was supposed to look like when it wasn’t, well, crashed. Tilting his head as he inspected its design, he couldn’t help but find it humorous that it really looked outdated for how really futuristic it really was.
“Spear of Selene..” he muttered the whited-out words at the top of the diagram. The name didn’t make any sense to him so he didn’t waste more time deliberating its meaning before flipping the page and landing on the index. Taking a moment to look over the staggering 99 different bullet points each dictating its own topic, ranging from the theory of rocket science, to how exactly each piece works, why each piece works, and essentially how to make each piece work in correlation to the other. Which safe to say, was a lot more complicated than what he was subjected to learning during his own training.
“Okay.. let’s just flip over to how it all works,” he said while noting the page number before keeping his thumb on the index and using his other hand to grab at the halfway mark in the book and lifted it up. He slipped his thumb from beneath the added weight of the pages and flipped through it for a few seconds before he landed on the desired page, a grin forming on his face as he lifted the book up in the air – only for that grin to immediately fall as a myriad of different sticky notes and collapsable pieces of paper fell from the exact place he was looking. It caused him to pause mentally as he kept the same blank facial expression while glancing down at the number of different slips of paper scattered all over his lap.
The sensation of the couch dipping to his left caused him to finally snap out of his shocked trance and look over to his left where he saw Della sitting down a few feet away from him, a knowing grin on her face as she looked at the mess of papers. He felt a bit of heat in his cheeks as she reached over and gently took the book away from him, folding the papers back into the page before closing it, while he quickly turned his head back down from the moment of embarrassment. Instead focusing on making whatever sense he could of the papers in his lap.
“See what I mean?” she said to him with a bit of a chuckle.
He nodded. “Yeah no, I can see why exactly you almost destroyed this book,” before letting out a small sigh as he looked at two different sticky notes each filled with paragraphs upon paragraphs of scientific jargon. Though he was sure that it was more of an engineering type of ordeal when it specifically came to rocket science, either way, he still struggled to make sense of what it was trying to get through to him.
“Wanna know what the guy who built the rocket said?” she said while setting down the book in the space between us. Causing him to look away from the big words and formulas written on the notes and look over at her in interest, “What?” causing her to let out a sigh of her own as she let her head hit the back of the wall.
“That it was so easy, that even Della could do it!” she said with a bit of a mocking tone. It caused him to look at her with disbelief. Shaking his head and scoffing at the idea. If this person, Gyro, if he remembered her saying, was anything short of genius. Then he should know for a fact that it is the complete opposite of that because things like this take patience and a good deal of experience with engineering. While he was sure that Della was in some semblance, somewhat experienced, he just knew for a fact that she was not one to go and pop a rocket out of her ass because it was so easy.
“Yeah, my ass it’s too easy,” he said while stacking the notes together. “Maybe if you had twelve years and a Ph.D. in engineering, while also having four years of aerospace engineering,” he said with another shake of his head. “Too easy..” he muttered to himself.
Della’s laughter caused him to look up with a bit of embarrassment, feeling the heat in his cheeks, he quickly rubbed away at them with one hand. He didn’t mean to say all of that out loud. He instead focused on looking down at the note cards he had sitting in his lap, choosing to look at the intricate and complex-looking equations and graphs written down on them, he knew for a fact that it was illegible to him. It was just a distraction to help quell his sense of embarrassment.
“Y’know Chris,” Della’s voice caused him to look at her from the corner of his eyes, noticing the creeping grin on her face.
“Yeah?” he said while continuing to look down at the note cards. Increasingly narrowing his eyes in confusion at how exactly he was meant to figure out what all these equations and hieroglyphics were supposed to do with getting a rocket off the moon.
“You blush way too easily,” she suddenly admitted. Causing him to pause and do the exact thing that he was about to tell Della off for assuming that he did, though it wasn’t a serious retort, he fixed her with a small frown.
“I do not,” he said with a small laugh. Trying to rub off the heat that was currently rising in his cheeks once again.
“You’re literally blushing right now!” she said with another laugh. Causing his cheeks to burn even more as he let the notecards fall from his grasp, turning in her direction and pointing a finger at her laughing form.
“You listen here, wo-”
“Boop!” Della’s finger pressed against his nose and paused every conscious thought he had.
He let out a mix of words before turning around as she kept laughing. “Way too easy, dude.” She said as he tried rubbing away the heat.
Chapter 5
Summary:
Rocket Science is a hard subject.
Notes:
A bit shorter than the rest of the chapters.
Chapter Text
A month and 15 days.
While Della was once again off on her own trying to figure out how things worked physically, Chris was persistent in staying seated on the chair and reading the various amounts of confusing charts and graphs, math equations, and sticky notes. Then he would move on to the book. Because apparently from his trying to rationalize what everyone went and how things went together, he found that the creator of the book, a guy named ‘Gearloose Gyro’ created the book in a way that if you were experienced with the subject, you’d be able to see that it was severely dumbed down. But you had to take that with a grain of salt because if you were trying to teach someone how to build a rocket and the actual science behind the rocket, then you were obviously beating, no, brutalizing an already dead horse with an axe.
Time was also progressing steadily.
Those weeks turned into even more weeks, which then turned into even more weeks, and which then eventually turned into the better part of a month and a half on the moon. And Chris was finding himself steadily going mad at how difficult, there were a few things that he could grasp from the sheer dedication he was putting into it. But overall he was still pretty clueless on how knowing that a typical rocket produces more than a million pounds of thrust that allows it to carry more than 6,000 pounds at speeds that topped 22,000 miles per hour, which was apparently the equivalent power generated by 13 Hoover Dams, carrying the weight of a horse, and traveling at speeds 15 times faster than a speeding bullet!
“Why the hell did you even add this..” Chris muttered while resting his head on his hand. Because while yes, that was pretty interesting, there was no given reason for him even to know that fact. Not in the slightest. In fact, it was getting rather annoying flipping past a page that was explaining to him how exactly the engine for the rocket was built and the theory behind it, only to then land on the next page listing off some random fact that had nothing to do with it.
“I don’t really care that you’re giving me a list of fun facts..’’ he muttered again as he scanned the page, rubbing at an eye with his hand, he grimaced.
“And how is the fact that seven people died because a dumb rubber ring got cold a fun fact?” he said in disbelief.
He was just getting annoyed in general. But that was most likely due to the fact that he hasn’t really slept since.. Well, since he’d gotten here. And that was probably what was affecting his current mood.
He shook his head and folded the corner of the page that he was on and closed it, sighing as he set it down on the floor and grabbed the sticky notes and graphs that he had stacked on either side of him. He carefully stacked them all together and set them down on top of the book on the floor, then he used his foot to gently slide it underneath the seat. Then he let himself slump back against the cushion and closed his eyes, it felt nice to do so. Just sitting there and actually letting his brain take a reprieve from the constant stream of information he was forcing himself to learn felt great.
But the very grating sound of metal buckling under pressure caused him to open his eyes with a frown, but he was quick to shut them again as the grating sound increased in volume, causing him to wince. His hands quickly reached up to his ears to block out the sounds as he opened his eyes and looked around the room, everything seemed to be shaking as the sounds persisted.
It kept up for what seemed like minutes before the ship suddenly shook one final time and everything fell back into the peaceful silence that it was just moments ago, letting him drop his hands back to his sides and sigh in relief. That noise was just minutes away from causing him to have a migraine, and for his sake and Della’s, he was so glad that it didn’t happen. Because it would just be curse after curse as he slammed his head into the side of the ship to try and knock himself out.
He didn’t go to question what caused the noise because he probably already knew who the answer was, not what but who, and that was Della Duck.
So he simply closed his eyes once again and pondered why exactly he wasn’t collapsing from sheer exhaustion and why Della didn’t seem to be in the physical condition that someone who was stuck on the moon for a year should be. But he could probably chalk that up to the stupidly flavored gum that the both of them chewed on respectively, even with how insane it was to grasp in the first place, he still felt like there should be something more than just chewing on gum. Yet getting into an internal conflict while he was already exhausted was something that while he was probably guilty of doing on more than one occasion, was a stupid idea.
He needed to rest his eyes, mind, and body.
Chris slumped back into the seat and sat there for a few moments before letting himself slowly slide down until he was laying on his side, he shifted himself around until he felt comfortable and then let himself rest.
It was good. Too good to be true, apparently.
The sliding door opened and the loud and hyper voice of Della followed it, “Hey, Chris!” causing him to sigh and open his eyes. He pushed himself back up and into a seated position as he crossed his arms and looked over to where Della was approaching him.
“What’s up, Della? How’s it going?” he said as she crossed the distance with ease and sat next to him.
“The sky, obviously,” she joked. Causing Chris to narrow his eyes and look up at her with an unamused expression. But she shook her head and laughed to herself. “No, but it’s going,” she said in response to his question. “Pretty well? Not so sure, but it’s going.”
“Good answer,” he threw out while rubbing at his eye. Not all that caring about her proximity to him, he’d usually make sure that there were a few feet of space between the two of them, but he really wasn’t caring at this point.
“How’s it going with learning rocket science?” she said while looking around, presumably to see where the book went. But he was currently feeling the build-up of exhaustion on his body because now that he’d coaxed his mind into actually trying to fall asleep, it was currently trying to put him to sleep. The small yawn that he covered with his hand was proof of the matter.
“Uh, Alright, I guess?” he shrugged his shoulders, brushing her side briefly as he blinked and put a hand to his chin. “Yeah, it’s going to take a lot more than a month..” he yawned once again.
“A lot-lot more than a month..” he sighed.
“Aw, phooey..” Della muttered to herself. The ‘phooey’ was the only thing that he really focused on because it was actually hilarious hearing it in person instead of just hearing it said by Donald back on tv. He didn’t pay attention to what else she was muttering to himself as he closed his eyes again and let his head rest against the cushion. At least he assumed that it was the cushion, either way, he didn’t put much thought into it and let himself fall into unconsciousness.
It was a lot easier than he expected.
Chapter 6: Chapter 6
Summary:
Della somehow finds a Lunar Rover and tears it apart.
Chapter Text
Chris wondered what he would do when he got off, well, if he got off of the moon. Since the probability of him and Della actually succeeding at rebuilding a rocket with just a single book on rocket science, he'd let out a small sigh and kept thinking. There really wasn't much that he had to go back to on earth, with this being some weird alternate version of his own with animals instead of humans, and with him in the body of a duckling, it was just a bit tiring. Della was ever the optimist and kept regaling Chris with tales from her adventures when she was younger, while he simply listened on as he tried making sense of the owner's manual.
As the days passed, Chris couldn't help but feel a sense of hopelessness creeping in. He knew that the odds of them successfully rebuilding a rocket were slim, and the thought of being stuck on the moon for the rest of his life was overwhelming. Despite Della's optimism and encouragement, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were doomed to fail. He tried to focus on the task at hand and pour all of his energy into understanding the rocket manual, but it was difficult. He had no background in rocket science and the manual was just making that fact so much clearer, even if he was able to somewhat understand it over time, what help would that be if he still didn’t know how to replicate it without checking for the risk of them turning into a giant fireball.
He often found himself getting frustrated and giving up for the day, feeling like he was making no progress. Della, on the other hand, seemed to be taking everything in stride. She would often tell him stories of her past adventures, her voice filled with excitement and wonder. She would talk about how she and her brother, Donald Duck, would often get into mischief and how they always managed to get out of it in the end. But to be honest, he didn’t say this out loud, he for one knew that this kind of mischief was so completely different in its entirety that she cannot begin to even compare it to childhood mischief.
Chris couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at her ability to remain so positive in such dire circumstances. He wished he could have just a fraction of her optimism and determination. But as they worked, Chris found that he was starting to develop a sense of respect for Della, and he couldn't help but admire her ability to keep herself resilient and actually relaxed despite the situation that they are in. He’d shudder to think what would happen if he got stranded on the moon and the person that he ended up being stuck on it with wasn’t Della, or even worse, he got stuck on the moon all by himself.
He’d probably go insane from how isolated and hopeless it all would’ve been.
A small sigh left his lips as he adjusted his position and rested his hands behind his head, the moon had orbited to a certain point where the Earth looked as if it was right above them and he was just taking a break from the constant reading and simply gazing. The sight of the stars and the Earth above him gave him a sense of peace, but at the same time he couldn’t help but feel a major sense of longing. A longing to be back on earth, back home where the gravity was normal and he wasn’t constantly chewing on a piece of gum that never ran out of flavor.
And better yet, back to a place where he could actually eat some food! It was so hard not to mention the fact that not being able to eat anything other than the gum that Della gave him was such a difficult thing to force himself to forget about. The first few days when he was without food were agony, even if he didn’t mention it, the emptiness yet an innate feeling of being full at the same time made his stomach twist in confusion. But over time it finally got to a point where he didn’t even feel his stomach growl or cry out for any sort of morsel of food that he could bite into.
“Ugh..” he groaned to himself as a rock poked sharply into his back and made him roll over onto his stomach before pushing himself up onto his feet, glaring down at the small rock before sighing and turning to glance up at the earth again. The longing feeling still permeates within him.
“Soon..” he muttered before turning to walk back inside the ship. Credit to Della though, she’d actually been able to fix some of the wirings inside of the rocket with a few tools that he didn’t even realize that she had with her. It was only when he caught her with a soldering iron as she was waist-deep inside the guts of the ship did he was slightly in awe at the fact that she was able to fix the lighting inside of the ship.
She’d also gotten the monitor screen that she used to make video messages back to earth to briefly show part of a news report back on earth, and when he said briefly, he meant as brief as cotton candy being dipped in water. Because as soon as he was able to see the news reporters sitting at their table, is when he heard a popping noise and Della letting out a string of curses as the screen fizzled out and eventually turned off.
But that was a week or two ago, maybe more? He’d have to look back at his makeshift calendar in order to actually get a gist of how long it has been.
He took a seat on the couch and promptly fell over on his side as he glanced up at the ceiling in silence, he wondered how Della was doing. She’d said that she was going out again to see if she could find anything useful on the moon's surface, she even joked that she’d scrap parts of a rover if she found one. He’d found it hilariously stupid so he couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle in response at the time.
“Heh..” he chuckled to himself again. But as his mind drifted to Della again he couldn’t help but think back to when he actually sat Della down and told her that he wasn’t really a child, which she didn’t seem to believe at the moment but at the same time she just laughed it off and agreed with him. There was never really a moment where he got to tell her his own circumstances for being on the moon, only when he first arrived on the moon and woke up in her rocket, back when he was still paralyzed with fear over the fact that he’d almost suffocated to death on the moon.
He just wondered if Della actually viewed him as a kid, because of his body, or if she saw him for the adult that he really was under the layers of short limbs and feathers. He was sure that he still carried himself like he did when he was still a human and that he still talked like he did back then, but he still wasn’t sure. He for sure waved the gun around like he knew how to use it, and he did, if that giant alien getting bullets to its face wasn’t telling then he didn’t know.
As he sat there, lost in his thoughts, Della interrupted his musings by literally bursting through the doors and dropping something large and metallic in the center of the room. "Hey Chris, come on! We've got work to do. I have a feeling that today's going to be the day we finally figure it out." She said, her voice filled with excitement.
Chris sat up and looked over in her direction to see what exactly had her so excited that he ignored the smug grin and finger guns that she was shooting at him and simply looked down at what looked to be a lunar over at her feet. He momentarily paused and looked down at it, before looking up at Della, before looking down at it again, before looking at Della one last time. Her expression had turned even smugger as she busted out laughing at his reaction to her bringing back a rover.
“I thought you were joking!” he said as he couldn’t help but laugh at the situation too. He rolled off of the couch and landed on his feet, quickly closing the distance between the two of them as he crouched down and looked at the rover. “I didn’t think you’d actually get one of these, I- I didn’t even know these were still up here!” he let out one last chuckle.
He shook his head and looked up as Della crossed her arms and grinned. “And that’s why you never doubt Della Duck! WHOO! YEAH!” she said as she pumped her fist into the air and started having a mini celebration because she was simply spontaneous and got excited over every little thing, she was Della Duck. As she liked referring to herself in the third person.
“This is so stupid,” he said while shaking his head good-naturedly.
“Stupidly AWESOME!” she corrected. To which he simply sighed and nodded. “Yeah, stupidly awesome.”
Della gritted her teeth as she wrenched at a bolt that refused to budge. She had been working on tearing apart the Lunar Rover for the past few hours and she was starting to feel the strain in her muscles. She paused for a moment to catch her breath and wipe the sweat off her brow before attacking the bolt with renewed vigor.
"Come on you stubborn piece of metal, give me a break," she muttered to herself.
Just as she was about to give up, the bolt finally gave way and she let out a triumphant yell. She grinned to herself as she set the bolt aside and moved on to the next one.
"How's it going?"
Della looked up to see Chris looking at her from his seat.
"Good, I finally got that bolt to budge. I think we might actually be able to make this work," she said, gesturing to the pile of spare parts around her.
"That's great, I'm making some progress on the manual too," Chris said, sounding pleased with himself.
"Good for you, we need all the help we can get," Della said, giving him a smile. They worked in companionable silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Della couldn't help but marvel at how far they had come in the past few weeks. But then she stopped for a moment and looked up from the rover, turning to look at where Chris was sitting with his legs pulled up to his chest reading dutifully reading from the manual. And when she just stopped and looked at him, a thought suddenly hit her and she brought a hand up to her beak in thought. There was something that Chris told her a while back that she suddenly remembered, it was the fact that he deliberately told her that he felt like he felt 20 years younger than he actually was.
And at the time she thought that it was just some sort of humor that he was using to distract from their situation, but when she really stopped and actually just put all her effort into thinking about it, she paused. Did she even know anything about Chris? Other than the fact that he also likes flying planes?
No..
She looked down at the bolt she pulled off from the rover and set it down on the table next to her, before taking a deep breath and removing her goggles and also setting them down on the table, then doing the same for her aviator's cap. She then took another long hard look at Chris. She was silent for a good while. She hadn’t really paid much thought to him in a deeper sense, only keeping his name bouncing around her mind with the millions of other things in there.
Della finally took a seat next to Chris and looked at him with a newfound understanding. The whole time they had been stranded on the moon, she had been so focused on finding a way off and surviving that she hadn't stopped to think about the strange situation they were in. The fact that Chris was a grown man trapped in the body of a duckling was mind-boggling to her, but it was something she couldn’t help but believe, but now that she was paying attention, she couldn't help but see him as the child he appeared to be.
But maybe it was just because she was still missing her own children..
"So, Chris," she started, her voice soft and gentle. A sharp contrast from the usual. "How exactly did you end up on the moon? I mean, you were piloting a jet and all. It's just a bit confusing to me."
Chris looked at her for a moment before taking a deep breath and closing the manual, setting it aside as he turned his full attention to her, and Della could see the flash of emotion in his eye at the remembrance. "It's a long story, Della. I was flying a mission for the military when a freak storm hit and my plane went down. I woke up on the moon, and I was in this body."
Della frowned, feeling empathy for Chris. "That's terrible, Chris. I'm so sorry you had to go through that."
Chris nodded but didn't say anything. “Is it weird?” he finally asked. To which she immediately shook her head in disagreement.
“No, not at all!” then she tilted her head. “Well, a bit weird that the storm regressed you back into a duckling, but it’s not weird at all.”
There was a brief moment of silence.
Della took a deep breath and continued, "I think we should get to know each other a bit better, don't you think? I mean, we're going to be stuck together for a long time."
Chris nodded, and Della could see a small smile on his face. "Yeah, I guess we should. I mean, we're stuck on the moon together and we haven’t even made much of an effort to become friends. So we might as well make the best of it, right?"
Della smiled back, and she felt a warm feeling in her chest. It had been a long time since she had someone to talk to, and she was grateful for the company.
"So, what do you like to do in your free time?" she asked, trying to make conversation.
"I used to love to fly, but now I just like to read and learn about different things," Chris replied.
"What about you?"
"I'm a big fan of adventure and excitement. I love to fly and explore new places. That's why I ended up on the moon in the first place," Della said, with a laugh.
The two of them continued talking, learning about each other's interests and backgrounds. Della found that Chris was actually quite intelligent and funny, and she was glad that she was getting to know him better.
As they talked, Della couldn't help but think about her own children. She missed them terribly and wondered if Donald and Scrooge were raising them right and showing them the messages that she sent them. She felt guilty for leaving them and wished she could be with them right now.
But then she looked at Chris and smiled. He was a child, or at least he looked like one, and she was going to take care of him. Something inside of her told her that she needed to protect him, no matter what. It was the least that she could do with how she’d been completely this fact for what, like, two-three months now?
"You know, Chris," she said, her voice soft. "I'm going to do everything in my power to get us off of this moon and back to Earth. I promise you that."
He simply smiled again. “Yeah, you’ve said that before. I appreciate it.”
But she placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to stop and look down at her hand before looking up at her face, his expression changing as she spoke. “But this time I mean it,” she said with renewed determination.
“A-alright, Della.”
“We’re in this together, Chris, And we’ll find a way off this moon, one way or another.” she smiled down at him to which he returned after a moment.
The next day, or at least, what Chris assumed to be the next day from looking up at where the Earth was in comparison to the moon, he marked down another day on the chalkboard and simply stood in the center of the ship with his arms crossed. He looked over as the prominent sound of snoring filled his ears and couldn’t help but chuckle as he saw Della’s hunched over from asleep on the table. She was completely dead to the world as she snored away, pieces of the rover scattered all over the table, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight before turning away and moving to walk outside. He didn’t want to bother her as she deserved the sleep.
He stepped outside into the chilly moon's atmosphere and simply walked a good distance away from the ship to where he’d sat the other day, pulling a weathered rock over and sitting against it as he sighed and looked back up at the sky. Yesterday's conversation was still in his mind and it made him think about what it would be like when, and if, they actually made it back to earth. Well, this version of Earth. Since he knew for a fact that now that he was turned into an anthropomorphic duck and Della was one herself, the Earth he would go back to was not one that he would be used to, even with how its logic worked sometimes.
He also knew for a fact that he had no one to go to back there. All of what remained of his family was back on Earth and since there really wasn’t any chance of him getting back home intact, since his jet was gone and explaining otherworldy travel would probably make him look insane. It made him realize that he didn’t have anything to even really push him to actually reach Earth, in all of his excitement and rush to get back to Earth, the excitement and rush to get back to Earth had blinded him to the fact that his circumstances had changed and he had nothing to go back to.
He didn’t have any family, no friends other than Della, and really.. Absolutely nothing.
He sat there, lost in thought as he tried to rationalize the idea of being stranded on the moon indefinitely. The idea of not having anything to return to and being stuck with Della for a very long time weighed heavily on his mind. The reality of his situation was finally starting to sink in and he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the thought of it all.
But then he reached up and smoothed his hair back and shook his head, now wasn’t the time to get all mopey, he’d have plenty of time to do that when he was homeless back on Earth.
He chuckled to himself before sighing and just continued to stargaze.
Suddenly, he heard Della's voice behind him. "Hey, what are you doing out here all by yourself?" she asked, sounding concerned.
Chris turned his head to look at her rubbing her eyes from the sleep she was just partaking in and smiled. "Just thinking," he replied.
Della walked over and sat next to him, looking up at the sky. "What are you thinking about?"
Chris hesitated for a moment before finally speaking. "I was thinking about what it'll be like when we get back to Earth."
Della nodded. "I know. It's a scary thought, but we'll make it back, I promise. We'll find a way to fix that rocket and get back to our families."
Chris wanted to laugh, but held his tongue and simply nodded his head. “Yeah, you’re right Della.”
Chapter 7: Mite
Summary:
The moon sucks.
Notes:
Taking a bit of creative liberty with the things that happened in between the space of years that Della was stuck on the moon.
Chapter Text
As Chris sat on a rock overlooking the lunar landscape, he couldn't help but think back to his childhood and all the Disney cartoons he used to watch. He remembered how much he loved watching Mickey Mouse and his friends, but there was always one character that stood out to him - Donald Duck.
He used to think of Donald as a silly, comedic character with his signature quack and temper tantrums. But now, as he found himself in a world where he was an anthropomorphic duck and stuck on the moon with Donald's sister, his perspective on the character had completely changed now that he really took the time to remember.
He reminisced about the episodes where Donald would put on his sailor hat and go on wild adventures, battling fierce enemies and overcoming seemingly impossible obstacles. He was impressed by Donald's tenacity, bravery, and loyalty to his friends. Especially thinking back to the Duck Avenger comics that he’d read on his off time back on Earth.
As Chris thought more about it, he realized that Donald was a total badass. He could hold his own in any situation and always came out on top. He may have been a bit of a hot-headed character, but that just made him all the more endearing.
Chris chuckled to himself as he imagined what it would be like to see Donald in person, in all his sailor hat-wearing glory, since he literally was in the world where he existed. He wondered what it would be like to meet him if they ever did get off the moon, Della’s descriptions and telling of his character didn’t really give him much about how he was in this world.
Chris had always thought of Donald as a silly, comedic character, and had been quick to dismiss him as a mainly comic relief character in his earlier description of him, but now he couldn't help but remember just how badass Donald could be.
He chuckled to himself as he recalled playing the video game Kingdom Hearts and watching as Donald used his powerful magic to obliterate their enemies, the ZettaFlare if he remembered right. Chris chuckled again, he considered that duck to be the most powerful mage in the Final Fantasy universe. It was absolutely hilarious.
He shook his head, realizing how silly it was to be thinking about cartoons and video games at a time like this. But he couldn't help it, being stuck on the moon with a talking duck made him feel like he was in a cartoon himself. Chris shook his head again and sighed. He should probably get back inside and start working on deciphering the Rocket Science jargon again, he’d been able to understand a good bit with the amount of time he’d poured over it. Even if he’d ignored his basic bodily needs and functions in order to do so.
As he walked back inside the ship, he couldn't help but smile at the memory of Donald Duck, realizing that he had been too quick to dismiss him as a silly character. There was more to him than he had previously thought.
But he cleared the thoughts away, he was never good at focusing when he was thinking about multiple things at once, he was a one-tracked kind of person. So he took a glance at where Della was pouring over the table and working away with random pieces of metal and some wiring and walked over to the couch. He glanced up at the board with all of the tally marks of the days that had passed on the moon and he mentally calculated just how many tallies there were.
He was pretty good at math so he was quickly able to count and add up the number of tally marks there were. A small nod came out of him as he counted the staggering number of 730. He didn’t think anything of the moment and sighed, picking up the manual and climbing up onto the couch, he glanced down at the manual and opened it up to the section that he had bookmarked.
Though a passing thought caused him to pause as he looked over an image of a rocket engine. Isn’t 730 days... two years?
Wait.
As Chris hopped off the couch and took another look at his makeshift calendar. He took in the number of tallies again rubbing at his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, but no, he realized with a jolt that it had been two years since he'd been stranded on the moon, his grip on the manual loosened and the book fell out of his hand. The shock of this realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and he felt his heart rate skyrocket. He couldn't believe that it had been so long, it felt like just yesterday that he and Della crash-landed on the moon.
The panic set in quickly, and Chris felt his chest tighten as he struggled to catch his breath. He had never experienced a panic attack before, and he had no idea what was happening to him. His thoughts were racing, and he felt like he was going to pass out. He felt his knees wobble as he stumbled on his feet.
"Della!" he called out, his voice coming out in a strangled whisper. "Della, we've been stuck here for two years!"
Della looked up from the wiring she was working on, a concerned look on her face as she saw the panic in Chris's eyes. She didn’t hear the words he originally said and instead heard the strain in his voice, feeling immediate concern as she focused on him.
"What's wrong, Chris?" she asked, setting down her tools and coming over to him.
"We've been here for two years," he repeated, his voice trembling. "Two years, Della. How are we going to get back? Are we going to die here? I don't want to die on the moon, Della." he was unable to compose himself as his real thoughts just spilled out of him.
Della put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, her touch grounding him slightly. "Chris, we've come this far," she said, her voice calm and steady. "We're not going to give up now. We'll keep working on the rocket, and we'll get back to Earth."
"But two years, Della," Chris repeated, his voice still shaking. "How much longer is it going to take? I don't know if I can handle being stuck here any longer."
Della's hand tightened on his shoulder, and she looked at him with a determined expression.
"We'll make it, Chris," she said firmly. "We'll get back to Earth, no matter what it takes. We just have to keep working, keep trying."
Chris nodded, taking deep breaths as he tried to calm himself down. The panic attack subsided slowly, leaving him feeling drained and exhausted. "Thanks, Della," he said softly, leaning his head against her shoulder.
"Anytime, Chris," she said, rubbing his back soothingly. "We're in this together, remember?"
As he takes deep breaths, he tries to process what just happened. He's never experienced anything like that before and it left him feeling shaken and confused. He looked over at Della, who was looking at him with a mixture of concern and confusion etched onto her face."Chris, are you okay?" she asked, worry creeping into her voice.
Chris nodded slowly, still trying to catch his breath. "I think so. I just… I don't know what happened. I just realized it's been two years since we've been stuck here and then suddenly I couldn't breathe, and my heart was pounding, and I felt like I was going to die."
Della's eyes softened in understanding. "It sounds like you had a panic attack."
"A panic attack?" Chris repeated, confused. "Really?" he’d never experienced nor seen one so he knew nothing about them.
"It's an intense feeling of fear or anxiety that can be triggered by stress, trauma, or fear," Della explained. "It's usually characterized by symptoms like rapid breathing, a racing heart, sweating, and a feeling of impending doom."
Chris's eyes widened in realization. "That's exactly what I felt."
Della nodded. "It's okay, Chris. Panic attacks can be scary, but they're not dangerous. You're safe now."
“Do you speak from experience?” he said with a shaky voice. She shook her head, “My brother, Donald, he’s prone to having a lot of them,” she admitted with a sad smile.
Chris took a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He couldn't believe he'd never experienced anything like that before. He looked over at Della, feeling grateful for her calm and reassuring presence.
"Thanks, Della," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "I don't know what I would have done without you."
Della smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "That's what friends are for, Chris. We're in this together, no matter what."
Chris smiled back, feeling a renewed sense of determination.
Della had been walking around the barren lunar landscape, trying to clear her head and think of a plan to get off this desolate rock. She had been wandering for some time when she stumbled upon a large rock formation. As she approached, she saw a small figure curled up next to the rock that he usually sat on to look up at the stars. It was Chris, fast asleep.
She looked at him for a moment, her heart swelling with an emotion she couldn't quite identify. She had never been much of a motherly figure before, but seeing Chris sleeping there like a lost little duckling made her feel a sense of protectiveness she had never felt before. It was a growing feeling inside of her over the course of the two years they’d spent on the moon together, which had gone by like nothing, taking her by surprise. Though Chris had much more... Concerning his reaction to the realization, she was there to comfort him though, it made her feel closer to him that she was able to bring him back.
Without thinking, she knelt down and picked him up, cradling him in her arms like a mother holding her child. Though she was a bit inexperienced as she was never able to hold her own children, she quickly found herself adjusting to do it more comfortably. Chris stirred a bit but remained asleep, snuggling into Della's embrace. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, feeling a warmth spreading through her chest that she couldn't quite explain.
For a few minutes, she just held him there, enjoying the feeling of having something to care for. She knew they were in a dire situation and that they needed to find a way off the moon, but for a moment, she let herself indulge in the simple pleasure of holding someone close.
She couldn't wait to get back to her own children back on earth, but for now, she would be content with holding Chris like this. Even if he wasn't mentally a duckling, she couldn't help but treat him like one while he was sleeping. He just looked too pure. She reached up and swept away the long strands of hair from his face, mentally noting the dark circles under his eyes, just a testament to how much he tirelessly was working to try and self-teach himself Rocket Science.
As she sat there with Chris in her arms, she looked up at the vast expanse of the moon above them. It was a beautiful, lonely place, but it was also dangerous. They needed to continue working, she felt like they were making good progress, even if the ship was still ripped into different pieces.
Sighing, she shifted Chris slightly in her arms and stood up. She would have to wake him up and get back to work on finding a way off this moon. But for a moment, she just held him close, enjoying the feeling of having someone to care for in this desolate place. Then after a few moments, she relented and broke the moment of peace that they had.
"Come on, Chris," she whispered, gently shaking him awake. "We have work to do."
Chris stirred and opened his eyes, blinking up at Della for a moment before realizing where he was. He sat up groggily, rubbing his eyes and looking around before glancing up at her.
"Did I fall asleep?" he asked, yawning.
Della nodded a small smile on her face. "You did. You looked like you needed it," she said referencing his earlier panic.
Chris rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked up at her. For a moment, he felt a sense of comfort and safety in her arms, something he hadn't felt since he was a child. He didn't know why, but he trusted her, and he knew that together they could maybe, just maybe, actually get off of the moon.
"Thanks," he said, giving her a small smile. "I feel better now."
Della smiled back at him, feeling a warmth spreading through her chest at the sight of him. "Anytime, Chris," she said. "Now let's get back to work. We have a spaceship to fix," she said as she gently set him back down on the ground and stood up.
With that, they both began to walk back to the wreckage of their ship. But as they walked, Della couldn't help but feel a sense of protectiveness over Chris. She knew they were in a dangerous situation, but she was determined to keep him safe, no matter what.
And Chris, for his part, felt a sense of gratitude towards Della. He may have been stuck on the moon with a stranger, but he was glad it was her. He may be alone in this world, but she was someone he could trust, someone who would keep him safe in this desolate place.
Chris was watching Della try to weld a piece of the ship's hull back together before stopping when he felt the feathers on the back of his neck shoot up, his instincts from when he was human and an airforce pilot kicking in as he spun around. He glanced over the barren lunar surface before glancing back at Della, who was still working to weld the ship together. Chris felt wary and stepped inside to grab the pistol he kept with him, he stepped outside and held it firmly in his hands as he scanned the area.
write where he was surprised as the giant alien mite sprung up from the ground once again, letting out a roar as it looked down at them.
Chris felt a chill run down his spine as he stared up at the towering creature. Its multiple eyes glared down at them, and Chris could feel its hot breath on his face. He tightened his grip on his pistol, ready to fire if it came at them.
Della stopped her work and turned to see what was going on. When she saw the mite looming over them, she gasped and quickly backed away, she glanced around and picked up a long piece of metal to defend herself. She knew that they had to be careful, as the mite was incredibly dangerous and could easily kill them both.
Chris kept his eyes locked on the creature, trying to anticipate its next move. Suddenly, the mite lunged forward, its massive jaws snapping shut just inches from Chris's face. Chris quickly dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding being crushed by its powerful jaws. Della let out a curse as she yelled out her frustrations at the mite as it started dripping its acidic spit onto the ship.
Chris got up from where he landed his roll and quickly fired off a few more shots at the mite, mentally counting the bullets as he ran past a furiously quacking Della and leaped onto the side of the ship. He pulled himself up by the grooves in the metal and looked into the eyes of the mite as it stopped and glanced up at him, one of its many eyes still had the gunshot wound he'd given it prior. It screeched before roughly biting down on the end of the ship and pulling it back. Chris let out a noise of surprise as he fell backward, his foot caught on the side of the ship as the mite started dragging both him and the ship into the ground.
he felt a surge of fear pass through him as the mite quickly disappeared into the ground and took him with it, him gripping tightly onto the ship as he was submerged in darkness, Della's voice crying out his name was all he heard before it quieted. All his ears were filled with was the groaning of metal scraping against the lunar stone and the mite still dragging the ship with it.
This left Della alone on the surface of the moon with a distraught look on her face.
She watched in horror as Chris and the ship disappeared beneath the lunar surface, her mind racing with fear and uncertainty. Her heart beat rapidly against her chest as she started feeling a surge of panic and worry over Chris, the sight of his frightened face before he disappeared into the ground caused her chest to tighten. She ran over to where the disturbed lunar soil was and tried digging the hole back up, her hands quickly getting covered in bits and pieces of the lunar rocks as she continued. But she wasn’t getting anywhere with just her hands.
“Freeze Earther!” A voice yelling out suddenly caused her to pause in her digging and turn around. Her eyes widened as she looked up into the eyes of an alien wearing golden armor pointing an alien-looking blaster at her, a million thoughts and questions ran through her mind as she raised a hand and opened her mouth, “what?” she said in utter confusion as she stared up at the purple alien.
Chapter 8: Chapter 8
Summary:
The moon. A planet? Nonsense.
Notes:
Hi.
Kinda been busy, had this chapter sitting for a while since I wanted to add a lot more to it. But I knew that I would never upload it if I kept trying to add more. I'll try writing longer chapters in the future, but please enjoy this one for now.
It's been long enough as it is. :P
Chapter Text
“Freeze Earther!” A voice yelling out suddenly caused her to pause in her digging and turn around. Her eyes widened as she looked up into the eyes of an alien wearing golden armor pointing an alien-looking blaster at her, a million thoughts and questions ran through her mind as she raised a hand and opened her mouth, “what?” she said in utter confusion as she stared up at the purple alien.
The alien lowered its weapon slightly but kept its gaze fixed on Della. "You are trespassing on sovereign Lunar territory," it said in a stern voice.
"State your business and surrender any weapons you may have." They pressed as Della stared at them with confusion evident all over her face.
"My ship crashed here, and I was trying to fix it when this...thing attacked us." She gestured towards the hole in the ground where Chris and the ship had disappeared. “For like the fifth time..” she muttered to herself.
"Put your weapon down Lieutenant Penumbra," a masculine voice caused Della to look back and up at another alien figure approaching, the smaller alien quickly lowered her weapon and shifted her posture in respect.
"Greetings Earther," he would say with his arms folded behind his back as he stopped in front of her.
"I am General Lunaris of the planet Moon," he said with a smile as he lifted his gauntlet-covered hand in greeting.
Della raised a brow, "What? The moon's not a planet." her tone shifting at the ridiculous idea. Her tone shifted from being fearful and cautious of these aliens to being downright confused – and a little amused at the idea of the moon being called a planet. So much so that she had to stop a smile from forming on her face as “Lieutenant Penumbra” immediately went to retort, an offended scowl on her face.
"You will treat the planet moon with respect or suffer the consequences," Penumbra said with a frown as she stepped forward and stood beside Lunaris. Both towered over Della but she’d lost all sense of initial fear at the sight of them, just now it was a mite of confusion.
Though Della didn’t think too deeply about the situation and just shook her head with what she knew was certain, "Look I'll suffer whatever consequences you want," she said as she tried calming herself. "Just after I get my ki–friend, back from the mite." She corrected herself.
Penumbra scoffed. "The warriors of planet moon have been hunting the mite for over three cycles, how exactly is a pathetic earth-dwelling dummy gonna find it?"
The moon's surface trembled beneath Della, General Lunaris, and Lieutenant Penumbra as the ground collapsed, sending them tumbling into the dark depths below. Della's heart raced as she tried to regain her bearings, the chaos around her matching the confusion in her mind.
As they landed amidst the wreckage of her ship, Della quickly scrambled to her feet, her eyes darting around to locate Chris. The mite, with its ominous red eyes, emerged from the shadows, looming over them as it let out a low hiss.
"Well, this just got a whole lot worse," Della muttered under her breath, her gaze shifting between the aliens and the looming mite. The tension was palpable as General Lunaris and Lieutenant Penumbra quickly recovered, shooting to their feet and aiming their weapons toward the mite.
General Lunaris, undeterred by the unexpected turn of events, addressed Della with an air of authority, "Earther, your fate is now intertwined with ours. We shall assist you in defeating this mite."
Della couldn't help but roll her eyes at the melodramatic proclamation. "Look, I just want my friend back. I didn't ask for any of this planetary drama."
Lieutenant Penumbra, maintaining her stern demeanor, chimed in, "Your friend is of no concern to the warriors of the Moon. Our primary objective is the eradication of the mite, and you will follow our lead."
As the mite inched closer, its razor-sharp mandibles clicking menacingly, Della took a deep breath. "Fine, lead the way, but if any harm comes to my friend or me, I won't hesitate to give you both a one-way ticket back to wherever the heck you guys popped up from."
General Lunaris nodded, acknowledging Della's terms, and the trio faced the approaching mite.
General Lunaris and Lieutenant Penumbra engaged the creature with calculated precision, firing energy blasts and executing agile maneuvers as they left Della looking down at her empty hands. She flexed her fingers, clenching them into fists before letting out a groan as she lurched forward to join them.
The moon's gravity, being the moon's gravity, forced Della into an impromptu somersault through the air, narrowly avoiding one of the mite’s legs as it slammed down into the ground. She landed on her feet a bit of a way behind the mite as its attention was dragged away by the two aliens shooting their golden blasters at it.
Despite the effort by the two, the mite was unfazed by every single one of their blaster shots. It just proved to anger the mite further as its attacks grew faster and more aggressive.
“Make yourself useful, Earther!” the voice of Penumbra caused Della to look up from where she was trying to find something to use as a weapon, in the process of lifting a rock when she turned and caught a small blaster thrown by the alien. It was golden and was much smaller than her palm, she had half a mind to complain, but there were more important things to focus on. So she took to mind what Donald taught her about handling guns and rushed back to where the two were struggling.
She bent her knees and used the low gravity to leap up into the air and shoot a blast at one of the mite’s eyes. The effect was immediate as it let out a pained screech as it closed the eye just above the eye where Chris had shot it previously. “Not bad,” she grinned down at the small blaster in her hand before twisting her body and leaping up again as she landed.
Amid the chaos, Della caught sight of Chris when she rolled out of the way of the mite, unconscious and lying near the wreckage. Concern and relief filled her as she focused her attention on moving to go get him.
General Lunaris, who was in the middle of ordering something of Penumbra, noticed Della's concern for her companion, and shouted, "Secure your friend, Earther! We shall handle the mite."
Della nodded, grateful for the assistance. She darted through the erratic movements of the mite as the two aliens aimed toward its eyes, reaching Chris's side. With a mixture of worry and relief, she cradled him in her arms. Despite the craziness, a small smirk tugged at the corner of her beak. "You picked a fine time to take a nap, buddy."
But the grin quickly turned into a concerned frown as she noticed the newly attained bruises and the cut just above one of his eyebrows as she lifted his bangs.
Della carefully made to check Chris for any more injuries now that Penumbra and Lunaris were distracting the mite. Its screeches echoed through the cave. With a determined focus, Della tore a piece of her torn jacket and began to clean the cut above Chris's eyebrow.
"You're lucky you didn't get squished," she muttered, her voice a mix of relief and annoyance as the only reason Chris got injured was because he climbed onto the ship during the initial appearance of the mite. That’s why she couldn't help but scold him for making her worry, even if he couldn't hear her.
The ground shook as the mite retaliated against the relentless assault from General Lunaris and Lieutenant Penumbra. Della, now cradling Chris, watched as the alien duo dodged the creature's strikes with not as much grace or precision as she thought they would have.
As Della tended to Chris, the mite's attention shifted back to her. With a renewed determination, she gently laid Chris down and stood up, her eyes locking onto the creature. Gripping the small blaster tightly, she took a deep breath.
The mite charged toward her, ignoring the blaster fire from the other two as it crossed the distance quickly. Della held her ground, her eyes narrowing in focus. And with a quick side-step, she avoided the mite's lunging attack and retaliated with a well-aimed shot at its underbelly.
The mite recoiled, screeching in pain, and turned its attention back to General Lunaris and Lieutenant Penumbra momentarily. Seizing the opportunity, Della rushed back to Chris, carefully lifting him into her arms once more. "Hang in there, Chris," she whispered before quickly rushing back over to where Lunaris and Penumbra stood behind some boulders.
As more time with the mite progressed, Della noticed something out of the corner of her eye that the mite seemed to hover around as if it was trying not to let them get through. It was in the split where her ship was wrecked, but she glanced down at Chris and felt something come to her mind. Thinking about how in some weird way, she and it paralleled in the way that they were acting out of desperation and..
Her eyes widened at her realization. "It's a mom..." she muttered to herself as she glanced down at the blaster in her off-hand. "It's just trying to… Guys! wait, I got an idea." she suddenly said to the two aliens.
General Lunaris and Lieutenant Penumbra, momentarily pausing in their relentless assault on the mite, turned their attention to Della. Their expressions conveyed a mix of curiosity and skepticism.
Della carefully placed Chris on the lunar surface, ensuring he was sheltered from the ongoing battle. She gestured towards the split in the wreckage, her eyes conveying a newfound understanding. "I think it's protecting something there, something important to it. Just… just let me try something," she said as she turned and slowly approached the mite, its eyes narrowing with suspicion at the sudden ceasefire.
“How do yo-” Penumbra was quick to fire off her annoyed thoughts, but was stopped as Lunaris placed a hand on her shoulder. Her words fell short as she begrudgingly crossed her arms and watched Della.
She held both arms up, offering up the blaster since she saw it like eating metal. "Look, I know you're just trying to protect your kid. I-I'm trying to do that too," she tried reasoning with it.
The mite, its large eyes fixated on Della, hesitated for a moment. General Lunaris and Lieutenant Penumbra observed the exchange, ready to resume their assault at any sign of hostility.
Della maintained her calm demeanor, continuing to speak in a soothing tone. "We're not here to harm your kid. I get it, okay? We're just trying to survive, like you." She carefully placed the blaster on the lunar surface, a gesture of goodwill.
The mite's mandibles twitched, seemingly considering Della's words. Its massive form shifted, and the air grew tense with anticipation. Lieutenant Penumbra readied her blaster, prepared for any sudden movement, while General Lunaris observed the situation with a calculating gaze.
Della took a step closer to the split in the wreckage, keeping her movements slow and deliberate.
"I'm a mom too, you know. I get it. You do whatever it takes to protect your kids." She pointed towards Chris, who lay unconscious on the ground, emphasizing the connection.
The mite, its aggression momentarily subsiding, hovered uncertainly. Della sensed a flicker of understanding in its gaze. As she reached the split in the wreckage, she noticed a small, motionless form nestled within—a baby mite, similar in appearance but much smaller.
She crouched down, maintaining eye contact with the larger mite. "See? We're not here to hurt your family. Like you, I’m just trying to do my best to protect mine."
The mite emitted a low, rumbling sound, a mixture of agitation and contemplation before moving closer to where Della was. The two of its four working eyes softened just a tad bit as it watched Della offer the golden blaster toward the baby mite, the small alien soft warbling only paused by the antennae started glowing. Each antennae flicked down, almost locking onto the blaster as its eyes widened and it reached forward and took it from Della’s hands.
"See? We don't need to fight. This mite's just protecting its family. We can find a way to coexist, right?" Della said as she turned to look at General Lunaris and Penumbra. The latter of the two just looked at the scene with absolute disbelief while Lunaris brought a hand up to his chin in thought. His demeanor shifted.
“You’re right,” he suddenly said. This surprised Penumbra as she blinked and looked at him with shock.
“Are you serious?” she asked. “You can’t just expect this whole thing to go away just beca-” but she was once again silenced as Lunaris gave her a look.
“We have been fighting the mites for cycles, with seemingly no end to the conflict in sight. But you managed to defeat the mite in not even a fraction of the time without violence, but with compassion.” Lunaris said as a smile started creeping onto his face. “We will no longer –” he paused as the three of them looked up as the mite shifted once again.
It righted itself and let out a string of soft noises directed down at Della, the baby mite behind it had since devoured the blaster and quickly moved to crawl up and onto its mother's side as it walked a few feet away before shaking the cave around them as it burrowed into the ground. The two mites disappeared underneath the ground and only left the small rocks and dust they kicked up floating around.
Della smiled at the sight, but quickly turned and looked over to where she had left Chris’s form. She rushed over and quickly picked him back up into her arms, giving him another once over before letting out a sigh of relief.
She turned when she felt the presence of the two aliens behind her, readjusting her grip on Chris she stood up and looked up at them.
“So, we done here?” She asked as she glanced around and found a hole they could exit through just a few meters away. “I gotta find a way to drag this thing back to the surface so I can start repairs on it again,” she explained with a very obvious tint of annoyance.
General Lunaris grinned as she met his gaze, “I think we could help you with that.”
Trex (Guest) on Chapter 1 Thu 09 Jun 2022 09:45PM UTC
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RewanDemontay on Chapter 1 Thu 22 Dec 2022 03:37PM UTC
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help_me_make_constellations on Chapter 1 Tue 28 Mar 2023 01:46AM UTC
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ThePaganSun on Chapter 2 Wed 25 Jan 2023 05:06AM UTC
Last Edited Wed 25 Jan 2023 05:07AM UTC
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LostKin on Chapter 2 Wed 25 Jan 2023 06:22AM UTC
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Krazer on Chapter 4 Tue 08 Aug 2023 12:56AM UTC
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RewanDemontay on Chapter 6 Fri 24 Feb 2023 12:44AM UTC
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RewanDemontay on Chapter 7 Sun 18 Jun 2023 07:50PM UTC
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Krazer on Chapter 7 Tue 08 Aug 2023 01:22AM UTC
Last Edited Tue 08 Aug 2023 01:31AM UTC
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