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Goldie O'Gilt was the type of person to follow every avenue of potential revenue, and she had more than enough experience to tell the bona fide from the fraud. So, when an encoded listing for "Three McDuck Heirs" coming from one of the sketchier sites appeared to be genuine, Goldie followed the pit in her stomach to the black market venue they were set to be sold at.
Trafficking wasn't common, even in the worst circles she ran amongst, and when it did show up she stayed out of it except to help the victims miraculously disappear before the showing could ever take place. She was a liar, a thief—but she wasn't a monster, and neither were most other members of the underworld.
Usually the perpetrators were still fairly amateur, but this one—Waylay Gilfeather, as the cowbird would introduce himself proudly—was good. Too good, unfortunately, for Goldie to get even a glimpse of the kids before the auction, and she supposed that he had to be in order to have kidnapped them in the first place, but it still made her gut twist tighter.
With her first attempt failed, she instead spent her time cozying up to Gilfeather, who stood far too comfortably at the front of the room. He recognized her, unsurprisingly, and his face split into a grin as he saw her approach.
"Ah, Goldie O'Gilt! I might've expected to find you here."
"Did you now? I'm afraid I'm getting too predictable."
"Well, your rivalry with McDuck is legendary, isn't it? I figured that this would draw those seeking revenge from the old geezer out of the woodwork, and I've been proven correct so far." And shit, wasn't that a terrible sign?
"I suppose you're right that we're a bit more public than most of those jumping at him. And I'm sure you know I've likely got the money for all three of the brats." She felt ill, sick up her throat, had her smile pasted on more uncertainly than it had been in years.
"Now now, I'm sure you've read the rules. One per patron, I'm afraid."
Goldie forced a laugh, the contents of her stomach threatening to revolt.
"Of course."
Gilfeather turned away to speak to someone else, and Goldie found her seat for the auction early, trying to steady her breath enough to keep it together.
It was nearly all in vain when the kids finally came out.
They were still in the clothes they'd been taken in, dirty and mussed and terrified. They fought like hell when they were pulled apart to be dragged across the stage separately, screaming for each other behind the gags in their mouths, and it was all Goldie could do not to jump up there and knock Gilfeather's assistants out cold. She knew there were at least a dozen more backstage, plus the room of Scrooge's enemies chomping at the bit to get a hold of the boys, but the instinct was present and pressuring nonetheless.
The auction passed in an amnestic haze, and in the end she found herself with the other buyers' names hastily written on a napkin and herself standing in a room with the boy in the green hoodie, his wrists, ankles, and mouth still bound. He flinched back when she reached to untie the gag, and narrowed his eyes when she explained that she was a friend of his great uncle.
"Where are my brothers, then? If you're bringing us back, you're bringing all of us." He was afraid, but he was fierce in his loyalty to his family, as she'd expected with any of the Ducks.
"I couldn't buy you all. We'll get them back from the others, and then I'll get all three of you home." He didn't trust it immediately, and she would've thought him a fool if he did, but he didn't run once his hands and feet were untied and they were back at Goldie's spare property.
"Who's got Huey and Dewey?"
Goldie pinned names and maps to a board for them to plan their route and course of action. Louie insisted on coming with and Goldie knew it was a losing battle, so off they both set to a lavish mansion in a secluded town of the American west.
"It's his brute you've got to look out for, not him. Honestly, I'm shocked Rockerduck's still alive, I haven't seen the lazy saphead in over a century."
"What did Uncle Scrooge do to make him want revenge so bad?"
"Screwed over his con, stole all the gold, the usual. I was actually with him that time. Rockerduck's just good at holding grudges. That does means I won't be able to talk with him, though. How do you feel about a jailbreak?"
It was easy enough to get into the mansion, but it took a while to find just where Huey was in the maze of rooms. They heard him before they saw him, pleading and tired.
"I already told you, I don't know any of Uncle Scrooge's plans. He does it all himself, we just tag along for the adventures when he finds one!" There was a dull sound and a cry from him that followed.
"We've been over this: that's not good enough."
"I'm telling the truth! Junior woodchuck's honor," he tried weakly, before yelping again. Goldie grabbed Louie's hoodie to stop him from barging in, managing to get him to wait just long enough for Rockerduck to storm out of the room, Jeeves following and locking the door behind them. As soon as they turned a corner down the hall, Louie beat Goldie to picking the lock and was rushing to his oldest brother's side.
"Huey, Huey, oh god. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, we're getting out of here now, you're going to be okay," he babbled, clutching his shirt. Huey was slumped on the floor, bruised a dozen different colors, but he wrapped his arms around Louie the moment he realized what was going on.
"Louie! How are you here, are you alright?"
"I'm fine, but you're—oh my god, Huey—”
Goldie knelt beside them both slowly, gently pulling both boys up onto their feet.
"We've got to get out of here before Rockerduck comes back, come on," she urged, and they allowed her to usher them through the silent halls. They curled together in the back seat of her rental car, and Goldie peeled away from the mansion as quickly as she could.
"Who are you? Where's Dewey?" Huey asked, arms still locked around Louie, and Goldie gave her explanation while typing a new location into the GPS system.
"He's our next stop. You boys alright with flying?"
For Dewey they had to wait a week before the air pirates touched down to refuel. They were able to fly to the island itself, but they didn't dare try to hire a pilot to confront them in the air. They'd just have to risk Karnage hearing about Huey's jailbreak before they could stage another.
But fortune was on their side for once, and while the planes were smaller and much busier than Rockerduck's mansion had been, the pirates were none the wiser to the team gunning for Dewey.
They found him in a dimly lit cell in the storage hold of Karnage's aircraft, starved and cut up all over his arms and legs, a few extra slashes adorning his nose and forehead. He panicked at the sight of his brothers in the cell, blinking awake as they opened the door.
"No, no no no, you guys aren't supposed to be here too, it was personal with me."
"Shh, hey, it's alright, we're getting you out." Huey and Louie supported him under his arms on either side, trembling themselves at the sight of his injuries, and Dewey understood once they led him out to the deck, back into the sunlight. His legs were shaky, and Goldie took him into her arms for the latter half of their escape for the sake of speed, muttering a simple introduction that he accepted enough to let her carry him as long as his brothers continued to hover alongside her.
And the tears returned in full force as soon as they were all safely shoved into the new rental car, all three brothers breaking down in the backseat as they clung to one another. Goldie let them have their moment, the knot in her gut finally unraveling, and she pointed the car towards the ferry, towards Duckburg.
Scrooge couldn't quite believe his ears when his ex was the one to contact him with an address and the news that she had his great nephews.
"Goldie O’Gilt, if you tell me right now that you were the one to take them—" His heart dropped as he said it. Goldie wasn’t like that, she wasn’t, but it had been a long time since they’d last met, since she’d abandoned him in that mine.
"What? No, god, Scrooge, of course not. This isn’t a damn ransom. But showing up at your door on my own with them wouldn’t exactly be the smartest move, now would it?"
The sharpness of her answer alone was enough to make him let out a breath in relief. He stood up from his desk, already making the arrangements for Launchpad to fly them out of the city to where they were laying low, already moving to find Donald.
"Ah. No, no, you’re right. Alright, I’ll come to you. Tell me the lads are okay?"
"…they'll be alright, given time. It’d be better if you got here sooner rather than later, yeah?"
"Of course. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” She was the one to hang up on him. Scrooge shook off his lingering shock and threw open the back door, yelling the news as he entered the houseboat in the pool.
Scrooge and Donald were out of the aircraft before the door had even fully opened, closely followed by Beakley and a girl about the same age as the triplets. Goldie stepped aside to let them run to meet their family, all of them effectively colliding together midway.
"Oh, thank the heavens," Scrooge was murmuring, Beakley joining in with something of a similar effect and the girl exclaiming in relief that they were safe, meanwhile Donald's croaking "my boys, my boys" carried out as he rocked all three of them against himself.
Goldie slipped back inside.
"Did you really think I could've been the one to take them?" There was a rare vulnerability creeping into her voice, and Scrooge shook his head.
"I dinnae know, Goldie. I mean, no, I wouldn’t have ever thought you’d go that low, but I was panicking. The boys had been gone nearly a month, and the last time we'd seen each other…"
"Right."
They both had their regrets, but it couldn't matter as much in that moment, the boys safe and back with their family. There was a flash in her mind, the idea that she could've been a part of that if either one of them had chosen differently at some point, but deep down she knew she never could. She was Goldie O'Gilt, and he was Scrooge McDuck.
But maybe she could also be the aunt that showed up on holidays and the occasional weekend, separate from that. The one that looked out for them in her own way, behind the scenes.
"I'll see you around, Scroogie."
She was gone by morning, but she meant it when she told him in her own way that she'd be back, and when the new security measures went up he made sure that it wouldn't be too difficult for her to get in.