Title: Broken Ties
Disclaimer: I do not own Darkwing Duck or any of these characters. I am making no profit whatsoever.
Author's Note: This is the next installment of my Darkwing Duck series. The story before this was Playing with Nightmares.
NOTE: If you have not read 'Playing with Nightmares' I suggest you read that first before reading this story, because there are many spoilers and you may not understand what it going on if you do not. I warn you now! Go back to the previous page before it is too late!!!
Broken Ties
Chapter 1
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Flash after flash went off from the cameras as the news crews and television reporters gathered around the St. Canard bank, being pushed back by police officers who were simply trying to create a perimeter around the bank's entrance. Eager and stubborn reporters refused to give up easily as they continued to blurt out and shout their demanding questions about the robbery that had taken place just earlier that evening. Cameramen shot any footage that they could grab even it was just a simple shot of the heavily guarded swivel glass doors of the bank.
An ambulance's siren wailed as it pushed through the crowd of reporters, who reluctantly moved out of its way. Police officers closed the area, so the media were not able to get any closer.
St. Canard's coroner, an elderly parrot, quietly slipped into the bank's entrance after being admitted by the police guarding the door. "Thank you, gentlemen" he told them quietly as he stepped through the threshold. The sight that met him was disheartening, but over the years, the old parrot had become practically immune to such situations.
He looked across the room near the entrance to the vault that Negaduck had robbed and saw J. Gander Hooter standing near the door, looking grimly down at the bodies of the two men before him on the floor as the paramedics placed them in black bags so that they could be identified later. The coroner checked over the bodies before they were carted off as Grizzlekof stepped through the vault's door, a furious expression on his large furry brown face. He straightened his posture and the tie he was wearing with his suit before kneeling down to hand Hooter a little slip of paper.
Brought out of his thoughts from the gesture, Hooter snapped his eyes up to Grizzlekof's face, looking confused. "Zeese vas found inside ze vault. It eez from Negaduck himself."
Warily, Hooter gave Grizzlekof one last glance before taking a good look at the note that Negaduck had left behind. It was a small, light purple piece of paper folded neatly. But of course, Negaduck treated his letters so formally, as though he was inviting someone to a formal dinner party.
'Dear St. Canard,
I am tired of playing. Tired of all of you fools out there. Now, I'm serious. No more games, no more idiocies. I want this town's justice force out of commission. Now the real games begin. I plan on hitting Darkwing Duck where it hurts. And it all starts with a death. I want that pilot do-gooder, Launchpad McQuack, dead and if I don't find him dead in the three days, there will be Hell to pay. And all the sweet innocent civilians of St. Canard will be the ones paying for it.
Yours Truly,
Negaduck'
Hooter gave out a small cry of alarm, before looking back up at Grizzlkof. "Oh….my…." he muttered. He handed the note back to Grizzlekof as he tried to wrap his mind about what the note had said. He placed a small hand over his heart. "My…goodness…..This is serious. Very much so…." he shook his head. "Oh, Darkwing will be crushed with this news…I…I feel for the boy, I really do…and Mr. McQuack…Oh…" he then seemed to snap out of his thoughts, coming back to reality as he sternly looked up at Grizzlekof. "The news must not get wind of this!"
Stashing the note away in an inside pocket of his suit to later use as evidence to the scene of the crime, Grizzlekof scoffed. "Ze entire city iz in jeopardy and you ez vorried about Darkving??" he raised his eyebrow distastefully down at Hooter as he asked this. "They zould know….zince innocent people could get hurt."
Hooter seemed affronted by his comment. "And why shouldn't I feel for him!? Launchpad McQuack is Darkwing's partner! The two of them are best friends! And his life has just been put in danger!!"
"Zat masked clown ez alvays getting into trouble. He ez more trouble than he ez worth…." hissed Grizzlekof, having never cared much for Darkwing.
Hooter shook his head. "Now, now…I know that you two have never truly gotten along, but let us have bygones be bygones, yes? We must figure this out! As I said, if the media catches wind of this--"
"Knoving them, zey probably already have" commented Grizzlekof, giving the front doors to the bank a look distaste, being able to see the flashing of the cameras from the outside.
Hooter sighed, knowing this was more than true. "I suppose I will have to try helping the boy, if he needs any. At least give him comfort." The two of them said no more as the paramedics took the two bodies out to the ambulance, the coroner not too far behind them.
Outside the St. Canard bank, news reporters continued to try to get as much information from the scene of the crime as they could, hoping to get a good story. News vans crowded the otherwise empty streets with wires and cords all over the place.
A little ways down from the steps that led to the bank's door stood two plump women, standing side by side as they watched the scene unfold. One of them was a raccoon with tan fur with chocolate colored stripes going down both sides of her neck and down her arms and sides. She had shoulder length dark brown hair and piercing green eyes as she gazed up at the crowd of reporters before her. She wore a simple jean jacket with a simple red shirt underneath and some jeans. In her hand she held a small notebook where she was jotting down notes with lightning speed, her eyes never leaving the crowd before her. The woman to her left was about the same size as her friend and was a dark skinned canine. She had jet black hair that was pulled tightly into a low, small bun at the nape of her neck. She wore an orange and black rain coat and matching windbreakers and tennis shoes. She carried a large camera and some other equipment with her as she looked on.
The raccoon woman grunted. "Look at this! This is a mess! Don't they know they'll never get a decent story this way!" She turned to her friend, who looked as though she was going to reply, but she cut her off. "I'm telling you Samara, once I get this coverage done, people are going to start seeing things MY way. My theory is this…all this stuff that has been going on lately involving the Fearsome Five, has GOT to be somehow interconnected! The tree on top of the law firm building, the explosion at S.P.E.C., Mr. Meddle's near death experience…." she trailed off, shaking her head. "Something is going on here and I want to figure it out."
"Yeah….a gift for the nostalgic….more reasons to leave St. Canard…that's just what we need, Kat…." drawled Samara's alto voice as she bleakly glanced around her.
Kat turned on her heel at this comment. "Hey, listen! You were the one who said you were offering to help!"
"Correction: I was the only one who didn't get the memo that said, 'Don't help Kat on her latest bogus story. It's worse than usual'" said Samara dryly, never making eye contact with Kat.
Kat scowled. "It's not bogus! Besides, Peter assigned you to be my camera person!"
"Yippie skippy…" muttered Samara darkly. Kat ignored her.
"Now the thing I want to know is, why didn't Negaduck use the Fearsome Four to help him break into this bank!? Why did he use two rookies and then blow them up at the end?" Samara didn't respond, not looking like she truly cared or was even listening. Kat was in her own little world as she jotted down some notes and paced back and forth slightly in the tight area they were in. "Hmm….I have some theories…"
This gained a reaction from Samara, who turned to her and looked at her with wide eyes. "Good grief, woman! You and your theories! Do you not remember the evil crickets incident! Your theory on those crickets nearly sent you to the nuthouse!"
Kat regarded her with wide eyes for a moment, then looked away, looking down at her notes. "Yeah, well, you weren't there the day they attacked me…"
Samara sighed loudly and rolled her eyes. "Why me?" she muttered to herself as she turned away.
J. Gander and Grizzlekof exited the bank's doors at this moment, which caused the media to go into a frenzy. Kat looked up with eagerness as she began to push her way through the crowd of other reporters and news crews. She glanced back and saw that Samara had stayed where she was at. "Hey! Get up here! You have to film everything in case I get a question in!!"
"Getting pulverized by crazy reporters is not in my job description…" Samara called over to her in an even voice.
Kat did a double take. "That's what being a camera person is all about!" Samara stayed where she was even as Kat walked back towards her, glaring her down.
"Ladies and gentlemen!!" called out Hooter from at the top of the steps that led to the bank. All of the reporters fell silent as they waited to see what Hooter had to say.
"Thank you for your time, but please, hold all of your questions for later! We must find the families of these two men and get them back to their loved ones! Now, please, go!"
"SIR! Is it true that there was a letter from Negaduck to city vigilante, Darkwing Duck!?" cried out a male reporter. Hooter froze at his question, having been getting ready to walk down the steps. He inwardly winced, having hopes that the news had not already gotten out.
"That information is confidential" he answered stiffly, straightening the front of his jacket. Kat, who was standing several feet back, watched intently as she jotted down notes; writing down everything she saw and heard.
"Sir!! Why won't you answer our questions!?" came another reporter's voice. Several other reporters blurted out their questions, which Hooter flat out ignored as he and Grizzlekof; escorted by several police officers, descended down the stairs.
"Why didn't Negaduck have the Fearsome Four with him to rob this bank!?" screamed out Kat. Everyone stopped and looked at her, including Hooter and Grizzlekof. Hooter eyed her carefully.
"That, young lady, is a good question" Hooter responded, then continued down the steps and a moment later he was gone; hidden by all the security.
----------
Far away from the bustling crowds at the St. Canard bank, safely settled in the suburbs outside St. Canard sat Drake Mallard. He sat on his own couch in his own living room, wondering what he had done to deserve such Hellish torment.
Beside him sat the overly large and overweight Herb Muddlefoot, stuffing his face with popcorn out of a large green bowl that sat in his large hand. Herb gave out a loud laugh as he watched the show, 'Pelican's Island' on the television before them.
Binkie Muddlefoot sat on the other side of the Herb and Launchpad sat next to Drake. Gosalyn, Honker, and Tank were sitting on the floor; all eyes on the television. Except for Drake's. He was too busy scowling at his neighbors, hating when they came over unexpectedly like they had earlier that night. It seemed there was always some excuse for them to come over. Either it was a barbeque, a power outage, a squirrel ate the wires to their television, the channel that played 'Pelican's Island' wouldn't work, a shortage of something edible, Binkie made cookies and wanted to share, or because Herb decided that since none of the other reasons had taken place, he should just stop and visit anyways.
Drake grumbled as Herb dropped popcorn all over his recently vacuumed floor as he crossed his arms, grateful that the show had just ended. Once the show ended, the Muddlefoots did stay much longer afterwards.
"Well, that was a great episode, didn't you think so, Drakester!" chuckled Herb, shoving the last of the popcorn into his mouth. Drake gave a sideways glare at Herb.
"Well…" he forced out a laugh which ended up sounding more like a cough. "Considering it's the 20th or so time I've ever seen it, yes, I would have to say its still got a few laughs in it." he spoke through bared teeth.
Launchpad patted him on the back unexpectedly, which nearly caused him to fall off the couch. "Aww, relax, DW! It may not have been your favorite episode but at least--" Launchpad stopped talking as he looked over and saw the death glare that Drake was currently giving him.
"Thank you, Launchpad" he hissed quietly to the pilot, knowing that the Muddlefoots would take no notice to his bad mood.
Gosalyn stood from where she sat on the floor and turned to her father, pulling down her jersey shirt, which had risen up from the way she had been sitting. "So, now what, dad?" Honker adjusted his glasses as he and Tank turned to look back at Drake as well.
"What do you mean, 'Now what?'" he asked her incredulously.
Gosalyn shrugged. "Now that the show is over--"
"We're not watching any of your zombie movies!" her father interrupted her, already knowing what his devious daughter was thinking and planning. Gosalyn and Tank immediately groaned at this as Honker, who was still sitting between them, gave out a sigh of relief. Drake ignored them as he shot Binkie and Herb another glare. He watched as Binkie stood up and began fluffing her dress out.
He forced himself not to gag, being entirely grateful that his lovely Morgana was nothing like Binkie. He couldn't stand Binkie and her pristine, 'the world is so perfect and lovely' personality.
"Actually" spoke up Drake in the best, polite voice he could manage considering his mood. "If none of you mind, I would like to now turn it to the news."
Herb nodded hugely, his large head bouncing up and down on his wide shoulders. "Excellent idea, there, Drake-a-roonie! Gotta keep up with all the news and stuff. Especially after all the weird things happening, like with that Whiffle Boy guy!"
"Yeah!" shouted Tank, standing up and coming out of his silence. The large duckling made a fist. "Can you believe it!? The inventor of Whiffle Boy, who's like, the best thing out there, was nearly murdered by some psycho clown!"
Drake closed his eyes, inwardly groaning. Oh, yes, he was very aware that had taken place. Very aware. Had it not been for him and Megavolt that night, Mr. J. Meddle would probably no longer be alive to tell the tales of that horrific night. In fact, ever since the events had taken place, it was all the old rat toymaker talked about it seemed. Whenever he would hold a conference for a new toy design or for the development of the new Whiffle Boy video game, he had gotten into the habit of bringing Quackerjack into it somehow or other, raving on and on about how the childish jester was a threat to St. Canard.
'He's BEEN a threat to St. Canard, Meddle…Not just until he decided to try to kill you…' had been what Drake first thought when he learned about Mr. Meddle and his ramblings.
Gosalyn, who was still standing, nodded vigorously at Tank's statement. "Yeah, that clown has another thing coming if he thinks he's gonna get to mess with Meddle again!" he vowed, rolling up her sleeves.
Drake ignored her and reached across Herb's large stomach to grab the remote in the other's large hand. "Excuse me, Herb" he muttered out of habit of hospitality. As Herb and Launchpad began discussing the plots in 'Pelican's Island', Drake tuned them out and began flipping through the channels, hoping to find the news channel. After several minutes, he finally found it.
Grinning with satisfactory that something of importance was now playing on the television, Drake sat back a bit to be more comfortable, but as the commercial ended and the news officially came on, his smile quickly vanished.
The news reporter on the television was a canine woman with blonde hair and she was currently answering the questions of another news caster who was off screen; all that could be heard was the other man's voice asking the questions.
Behind her, in a small box at the corner of the screen was a shot of the St. Canard bank being taken from a helicopter's point of view. It was a live shot of what was taking place at the bank and Drake could see police officers trying their best to keep the perimeter around the bank's entrance clear.
The woman news caster finally addressed the viewers at home. "Good, evening, ladies and gentlemen. For those of you who are just now joining us, we have breaking news on a bank robbery that had taken place in downtown St. Canard at the St. Canard bank. For those of you who don't know, this happens to be one of our city's largest and most historic banks, which is also the holder of many of S.H.U.S.H.'s funds. As of 6:05 this evening, the bank was robbed by none other than the notorious mastermind, Negaduck, accompanied with who is believed to be two small time local crooks. The names of the two men helping him have yet to be released and is still confidential."
Drake's full attention was now on the television and he was so intent on what was going on, he didn't even register the fact that silence had filled the room. Herb, Binkie, Launchpad, Gosalyn, Honker, and Tank were also allured by the news on the screen from their conversations.
"Now just twenty minutes ago, J. Gander Hooter, chief of S.H.U.S.H. along with Agent Grizzlekof, came out after investing the scene for themselves. Though they were reluctant to give out this information, they later obliged. It would seem that after letting the two rookie criminals meet their deaths from the small explosive bomb used to open the vault, Negaduck had left a warning note for our men in blue to discover. I--I think we got a copy of what the note said--Bob? Have we got that yet to show---" the news lady took a moment to briefly whisper to one of the camera men. She quickly turned her attention back to the camera before her. "Yes, here we have what the note says. We'll have it up on the screen there for you."
The text from Negaduck's note appeared on the screen, allowing everyone to read it. Drake's blood ran more cold in his veins with each word he read further into it.
'I plan on hitting Darkwing Duck where it hurts. And it all starts with a death. I want that pilot do-gooder, Launchpad McQuack, dead and if I don't find him dead in the next three days, there will be Hell to pay. '
Drake's eyes widened, his mouth slightly agape as he tried to grasp what was going on. Launchpad fell off the couch, shaking severely and nearly colliding into Tank, who had been sitting in front of him. All eyes were still glued on the television.
The news lady came back on. "It would appear that the masked vigilante is close with Launchpad McQuack, who, in the past has been seen with Darkwing Duck numerous times. As for what the public plans to do with this information, is yet unknown. The note makes it sound as though if Mr. McQuack is not found dead in three days, all of St. Canard will pay the price. We all insist that no one takes matters into their own hands."
"DW…" Launchpad's voice sounded weak, deflated, and slightly pleading.
"Oh, MY!" cried out Binkie as the news continued to show live shots of the bank. She gushed at the tall pilot. "Oh, is that YOU they're talking about!? Now, tell me, Launchpad, dear, however did you get yourself wrapped up in all this!?" She quickly stood and walked up to Launchpad, who had just gotten up from his fall on the floor. Launchpad looked at her with worried eyes, still shivering as she gave him a hug.
Herb was then the next one to stand, walking up to Launchpad. "Now, see, sonny, that's what you get for getting yourself mixed in with the likes of them!" Launchpad faintly nodded.
Gosalyn, coming out from her trance from the television, glanced up to see Binkie and Herb surrounding Launchpad. She glanced behind her to see Drake still at a loss for words, a heartbroken look on his face. She had to do something about all this and fast. She poked Honker hard in the ribs, who flinched at her actions. She leaned over close to his ear once she knew she had his full attention.
"You have GOT to get your parents out of here so that we can talk about all this!" she hissed. Honker pushed up his glasses, nodding quickly. He stood, which grabbed the attention of Tank, who watched him as the smaller duckling walked up to his parents.
"Umm….mom…dad.." he began in his nasally little voice. He looked up at them. "I think we should go and let the Mallards have some time to themselves…"
Binkie and Herb looked down at their youngest son. Binkie slowly smiled and nodded at length. "Yes, sweetie, I suppose you're right." She turned to her husband. "Come dear, Drake and Launchpad will need to talk this over…" She began pushing Herb closer and closer to the door.
"Well, alright. But Launchpad, son, if you need anything, we're right next door." he offered before going through the back door. Tank followed suit and Honker gave them one last pitying glance before he too followed, shutting the glass door behind him.
The silence that filled the Mallard home afterwards was thick and heavy. Launchpad looked as though he was starting to hyperventilate. "DW…." he whispered once more.
This seemed to snap Drake out of his trance since he finally looked away from the television, still wearing a heartbroken expression as he slowly turned to Launchpad. Drake opened up his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Gosalyn just stood there, not knowing what to do or what to say. "I'm….I'm sorry, Launchpad." Drake spoke so softly that Gosalyn and Launchpad almost didn't hear him. The pilot looked over at Drake, looking slightly confused. But before he could ask why Drake was sorry, Drake continued to speak. "I'm sorry I got you in this mess. I….don't regret ever making you my sidekick…It was one of the best decisions I ever made…"
Launchpad gave him a genuine smile at this, truly touched, but his smile quickly vanished. "I-It's okay, DW. I…I got myself into this mess, really. It's not entirely your fault…"
"Hello!? What are you going to do here!? Dad! Launchpad is up for murder! Negaduck said in that letter than unless he's……dead….in three days, St. Canard is going to pay! Don't you think there are going to some people out there who aren't going be just a LITTLE bit upset!?" She had faltered, almost unable to say or even think of the possibility of losing Launchpad. She had already lost her parents and grandfather and while Launchpad wasn't legally connected to her in any way as Drake was, she still considered him a part of the family.
Drake bit the bottom of his lip as he turned the television off with a click of the remote. He hadn't thought about that possibility.
"W-What do you mean by that, Gos?" gulped Launchpad, wringing his hands together. He took a wary glance outside the window. "Y-You don't think someone out there would try to k-kill me….do you!?" Drake and Gosalyn both looked up at him, not sure how to answer. "I-I mean…..a normal…everyday citizen wouldn't try anything….would they!?"
Drake looked away for a moment, deciding the best way to answer this. At length, he said, "I don't know, LP. But, I don't think we can take the risk…." Launchpad blinked at him, having hoped for a more hopeful answer. He watched as Drake stood from the couch. "Until further notice, LP, you are not to leave this house. Do you hear me?"
Gosalyn injected on this. "What about the Tower? Can he go there!?"
Drake gave her an incredulous look. "Well, of COURSE he can go there! That's even more safe than here, now isn't it!? Plus, he doesn't have to leave the house in order to get there."
Gosalyn gave him a sheepish look for not having thought of that herself. She turned to Launchpad, who was still standing next to the couch, shaking slightly from the news. She took a few steps closer to him and gave him a hug. "Don't worry, Launchpad, we won't let anything happen to you."
Appreciating the affection, Launchpad scooped her up into his arms. "Awww, thanks, Gos. That means a lot to me…" he responded gently, holding her close.
Drake smiled briefly before frowning once more. "Launchpad, can you think of any other safe place that you could stay? As a possible backup in case something goes wrong here?" he took a wary glance out the front window, as Launchpad had earlier, thinking the same things. "I mean, we can't deny that some of our neighbors know you're here all the time, you know?"
Launchpad nodded. "Yes, that's true, DW." he sat Gosalyn back down on the floor. He took a moment to think things over, a reflective look on his face. "And I know just the place I could go if I need to…."
------
Far away from the crowds of the city, the fall leaves shivered in the wind as the last of them tried their best to stay on the tree's branches; the bitterly cold wind outside swirling around them.
The grass along the tree's trunk could hardly be seen thanks to all of the red, brown, and yellow tainted leaves that had already fallen. The Greenhouse that sat on top of the hill on the outskirts of St. Canard looked cold and lonely from the outside, all the plants having died from the cold and gone into hibernation until spring's warm air and rain would bring them back from their solace.
Reginald Bushroot was one mutant plant duck who refused to let the bitter cold of winter bother his plants anymore. While the wind whipped around outside as tiny snowflakes began to fall from the sky, Bushroot stood in front of his work table, lab coat on and a beaker in his leafy hand. His goal was to design and create a formula that could help plants survive better in the winter. He knew that plants were naturally supposed to die in the winter. It was a part of mother nature itself, but he wanted only to help them survive a little longer. His thoughts were focused on the spring months when the plants first started to be reborn for the new summer ahead of them. The first months of spring were always harsh to plants thanks to frost and chilly nights.
Pulling back his sleeve with his free hand, Bushroot took the beaker that held a light green clear liquid inside of it and poured into a larger beaker with its own liquid, leaning close to the table so that he could watch the reaction of the two chemicals. Several seconds later, a smile formed on the mutant's beak as he leaned back; standing straight again, and watched with content as the liquid turned a light rose color.
His gaze turned towards entrance of the Greenhouse, where his crystal blue eyes fell on Liquidator, who was still nothing but a concrete statue thanks to Megavolt and Quackerjack. It had only just happened the night before. Bushroot's smile quickly vanished as he let out a small sigh. He missed Liquidator already and it hadn't even been that long. He wished Quackerjack and Megavolt hadn't done that to him, but the watery villain had deserved it after all the trouble he had caused them. He had been asking for trouble when he gave out such valuable information to someone like Paddywhack.
Bushroot shivered violently at the memory of the ghostly creature. He had hoped Quackerjack was right about Paddywhack truly being gone. He didn't want to have to think about him ever again.
Bushroot brought himself out of his thoughts, trying to focus on the task at hand. Now that he knew that the two chemicals blended well together to get a satisfying result, he could test it out on the plant he had chosen. He had chosen a small potted daisy to be the tester of his newest experiment.
"Are you sure you want to try this? I have no idea if it will work or not, Velvet" he spoke softly to the small white daisy. He had named the daisy Velvet. He had known at the time he had named her why he had chosen that particular name, but now the reason escaped him.
'Yes, I am sure, master. I trust you'
Bushroot was able to hear her response and he gave one of her petals a gentle stroke, which made the daisy shiver slightly.
"Alright, I'll give it a shot. But I'm sorry if it doesn't work" he told her, slightly hesitant as he raised the beaker and poured the chemical into the soil of her pot. At first, nothing happened as Bushroot set the beaker down on the table and he watched to see if anything in the slightest happened.
"Well!? Anything!?" he asked Velvet, his voice filled with eagerness.
Nothing. He didn't receive any type of response from Velvet. He couldn't hear her voice in his mind. He could hear his other children whisper amongst themselves throughout his Greenhouse, but not Velvet. "Velvet??"
'Goodbye, master….' came a weak whisper from Velvet. Bushroot's eyes widened with fear and sadness as he watched Velvet slowly wilt and crumple up. Bushroot gasped, grabbing the pot where Velvet once grew and held it close to his body.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, Velvet! You had to die so carelessly at my mishap!" he touched what was left of Velvet's leaves. "My own stupidity is what killed you, my sweet. If only I had managed to perfect the formula on the first try!" He gently and almost reluctantly sat the pot back down on the work table.
Bushroot went to turn around, planning on spending the rest of the afternoon mourning Velvet's death when hands rested upon his shoulders and made the poor mutant plant duck jump several feet in the air.
"Ahhhhhhhhh!!" he cried out in shock, his petal hair going straight for a moment before falling back down to its normal appearance. When Bushroot landed, he landed in cool liquid arms which caught him with ease. Trembling from the scare, Bushroot realized that it was only Liquidator, who was currently beaming at him.
"Are you scared? Are you sad that all your hard work came up empty handed? That's alright, just spend some quality time with your local Liquidator, who just recently came back from being trapped in concrete Hell!" spoke the ex-salesman in his usual, loud jargon voice.
Bushroot just blinked at him for a moment, panting slightly as he waited for his heart rate to go back down. He gulped, a large smile finally forming on his beak.
"Liquidator!" he cried out joyously. He gave the watery canine a genuine hug the best way he could as Liquidator still held him in his arms. Liquidator smiled warmly at this gesture, stretching one of his arms out so that he could reach up his hand to gently stroke the stamens on Bushroot's head. Bushroot closed his eyes, loving the feeling it caused.
"I didn't think you would be free from the concrete this soon…" whispered Bushroot in his moment of pleasure.
Liquidator's large grin finally vanished, being replaced by a small smile. "Neither did I, but I managed it. I knew you owned a humid greenhouse, Reggie, but not one that was humid enough to make it easier for me to escape the tight refines of concrete! Why, a full twenty-four hours hasn't even gone by!"
Bushroot shrugged. "I'm part plant, so of course, I'm going to want it as humid as possible in here."
"Humidity doesn't effect you like it would a normal duck, does it?" voiced Liquidator. Bushroot shook his head in a negative. "So while everyday citizens are sweating away from the heat and humidity, you're happy and content as can be!"
"As happy as a new seedling in fresh soil. I don't really sweat, either. Not much at least. Only on days when I overwork myself…" explained the botanist.
"Ahh, but why overwork yourself when you have the hydraulics of the Liquidator to now help you with your work!" announced Liquidator proudly and in a bragging way.
Bushroot scoffed, pushing Liquidator's arms away from him in hopes of being set back down on the ground. Liquidator reluctantly set his roots on the dirt floor. "You never used to help me before so what makes you want to start helping me now?" he stepped away from Liquidator, not looking at him; refusing to look at him as he crossed his arms, a frown on his beak.
Liquidator's ears drooped, looking like a kicked puppy. "Look, I said I was sorry about the way I used to treat you. I….I messed up… " Bushroot made sound of agreement, his back still facing him. "I've come to find out just how important you are to me and what its like to lose you. And I want to help you. " Liquidator walked up behind him, wrapping his watery arms around the other mutant. "Come now, can you really say no to Liquidator's Pure Tasting Water? Or his 100% liquid love?" He began running his arms up and down Bushroot's back. He then made a trail from Bushroot's tail feathers all the way up to his petal hair. This made Bushroot uncross his arms; coiling at the touch.
Bushroot sighed after enjoying Liquidator's touch, finally turning around to face him. "Alright, alright. I believe you…" he told him with exasperation. But there was a smile on his face. Liquidator grabbed hold of him and held him close.
At length, Liquidator pushed Bushroot back at an arm's length, keeping his hold on the other's shoulders as he scanned Bushroot's physique.
Embarrassed and not knowing what was going on, Bushroot asked, "W-What are you doing?"
"What happened after I was sealed tight in that concrete? Megavolt and Quackerjack didn't hurt you, did they?" he demanded, sounding slightly angry, but Bushroot knew it was only because of the thought that he could have gotten hurt.
The flashback of Quackerjack nearly choking him to death flashed through his mind, but he decided not to say anything about it. At least, not yet. The green mutant shook his head, putting a reassuring hand on Liquidator's arm. "No, they didn't hurt me. If anything, I hurt them." he chuckled, feeling his chest swell with pride. Liquidator's ears perked up at this. "Yeah, with the help of my plants I was able to straighten them around. They left shortly afterwards. No hard feelings between us. Though I don't know how they feel about you. Things might still be rough."
Liquidator nodded. He knew none of this would blow over quickly. He grabbed Bushroot by a leafy hand and pulled him close, just grateful that they were back together.
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Chinks and clatters could be heard echoing through the spiraling stairs that went up to the very top of the Lighthouse. Occasionally the sound of little bells jingling ran through the air along with a small giggle or chuckle.
At the very top of the steps to the Lighthouse was where Megavolt's hideout was and thanks to the events that had taken place days before, his home was now currently a wreck, most of what he considered his belongings and treasures destroyed.
Megavolt and Quackerjack had been spending the last hour and a half attempting to clean what was left of Megavolt's hideout. The last time Megavolt had been there had been the dreadful night Paddywhack had taken control of his body. Paddywhack, while learning how to use and obtain Megavolt's body and his electrical powers, had shot bolts of electricity everywhere throughout his hideout, hitting and destroying everything.
It turned out, as Quackerjack had learned, that seeing all these broken light bulbs and appliances and wires was a very emotional thing for Megavolt. The rodent looked miserable as he sat there picking up the pieces that remained of his collection of light bulbs. He sat there on the floor, slumped over slightly, picking up piece by piece and slowly discarding them into the garbage bag.
"Can't cry…..Can't cry….I'll short circuit…." Megavolt was currently muttering to himself, reaching up underneath his goggles and rubbing at his eyes. Quackerjack was on the other side of the room gathering what was left of a toaster and was tossing it inside his own garbage bag.
The jester was finding it fun to see how many things he could toss into the bag at once while still making them all end up in the bag. It wasn't going well since half time he wasn't even looking where he was throwing and was simply tossing the pieces over his shoulder.
After running out of things to throw, the toymaker glanced back over to Megavolt, where he knew the rodent was having a hard time. He bounced his way to his favorite playmate, doing a cartwheel in the process and landed beside him.
"Megs…..are you crying??" he asked in a surprised, childish voice.
"No" snapped Megavolt harshly, pulling his goggles back down indignantly and going back to cleaning up the mess.
Quackerjack gave him a large bucktoothed smile. "Yes, you are Megs…stop denying it. You always have been a horrid liar." Megavolt didn't respond to this, just continued to ignore the toymaker. Quackerjack's crazed eyes looked between Megavolt and his once prized light bulb collection. "Megsy…" he whispered into the rodent's ear. "Will you cry this hard when I die?"
Megavolt didn't respond right away, but when he did, it wasn't the answer Quackerjack had been expecting. "Depends on how many light bulbs you break in the process. Like, however you die, the amount of light bulbs that die too, if any."
Quackerjack wasn't sure to be flattered or offended. He chose to be offended. "So….you won't cry at all when I'm gone!? You won't miss me!?" he began to wail. Large tears sprung to his eyes as he grabbed hold of Megavolt's arm. "You won't even care when I'm gone!?"
Megavolt stopped what he was doing, turning slightly to look at the other. "Did you not hear me!? I said it depends on how many light bulbs you break. Meaning, YES, I will miss you terribly!"
Quackerjack, who had been looking down as he wailed, snapped his head up, his tears miraculously gone. "And you'll cry!?"
"Yes, I'll cry….a lot….I'll probably be short circuited for months…" replied Megavolt with a hint of disdain as he returned to cleaning up the shattered light bulb pieces.
Quackerjack wrapped his arms around Megavolt, squeezing the rodent and making Megavolt stop what he was working on. "I don't know what you meant about the light bulb part, but I'm just so happy you'll miss me and cry at my death!!"
Megavolt scowled as Quackerjack continued to hug him. "Why are we talking about death again?"
Quackerjack released him, scooping up a handful of shattered light bulb glass into his hands and placing it into the garbage bag. "I just wanted to know if you'd cry if I died, that's all… I mean…I know I will…cause I cried that day I thought you died after that explosion. " Silence consumed the room as the two of them continued to clean. After a good five minutes, Quackerjack started to whine.
"Shut up" hissed Megavolt after the jester dramatically sighed. " I know you're bored but we have to do this!"
"Ooooh! I have an idea that could make this SO much more fun!!" cried out Quackerjack delight and eagerness.
"No! We're not using toy soldiers!" snapped Megavolt.
"AWWWWWWW!!!! Why not!?" wailed Quackerjack, his large beak making his pout all the more large.
"Because I have a feeling they'll just cause more trouble than good" replied Megavolt. He stood, grabbing a broom and started sweeping the rest of the mess up. Quackerjack bounced up into a standing position and tried grabbing the broom. Megavolt moved it away just in time. After several minutes of grunting as Quackerjack tried getting the broom from a dodging Megavolt, Quackerjack finally grabbed it.
"Let go!" snarled Megavolt.
"I just love it when you get all fired up, Megsy!" giggled the toymaker, a teasing smile of his beak. Megavolt ignored him. Quackerjack yanked the broom as hard as he could, not expecting what happened next to happen. He had yanked so hard that Megavolt was caught off guard, making him go flying forwards. Quackerjack, his eyes wide, managed to move aside just in time as Megavolt lurched forward, loosing his footing. The rodent fell forward and landed in an empty bucket that Megavolt had planned to use for cleaning later. His head made contact with the large bucket and the rest of Megavolt's body made him slide on the floor a bit from all the momentum.
With a loud crash Megavolt landed, hitting several boxes and an old computer screen. Quackerjack squeaked, dropping the broom and immediately rushed to help Megavolt up.
"Oh, so that's where the soap is" he heard Megavolt say, his face inside the bucket, which caused a slight echo. Quackerjack giggled as he helped Megavolt sit up and pulled the bucket off of his head.
"Sorry, Megs. Are you okay?"
"Why didn't you just let me have the broom?" he demanded.
"Because it was more fun this way!"
"Yeah, for you!" growled Megavolt, closing his eyes, crossing his arms, and looking away. His eyes were wide a moment later when Quackerjack gave him a small kiss on the cheek. Quackerjack watched as Megavolt's cheeks turned slightly pink and a spark of electricity emitted from the end of his whisker.
Megavolt sighed. "A lot has happened lately…huh…"
Quackerjack nodded softly, the bells at the end of his hat jingling a little softer than normal. "Yes….First the explosion at S.P.E.C. and then the hassle with Paddywhack….I've almost lost you TWICE now Megs, in just the last six months!"
Megavolt raised an eyebrow. "What happened at S.P.E.C.!?"
"An explosion. You lost your memory, remember?" he reminded his friend.
Megavolt shook his head. "Barely…" he sighed. "I just want to know what's going to happen now…"
"Happen?" echoed Quackerjack.
"Yeah…..I wonder what's going to happen to us next that will cause us trouble…"
Quackerjack fiddled with the end of his hat, not knowing what to say or how to answer. He scooted closer to Megavolt, knowing somewhere in his crazy, childish mind that he knew one thing for certain, they were going to have to be extra careful. He refused to let Megavolt get hurt anymore because of him and he also knew that he refused to let anything keep them apart.
Little did Quackerjack or Megavolt know that on the other side of the city, their ex-boss, Negaduck was planning on making everyone's life Hell and it all started with Launchpad McQuack.
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