Chapter 1: The Chainsaw That Started It All

Disclaimer: I don't own Darkwing Duck or Teddy Scares.

A/N So...I'm gonna just say it: I love cartoons, and Darkwing Duck is my absolute favorite! Gosalyn is my childhood superhero so it only makes sense for me to do a fic about her. This story also contains quite a bit of Gosalyn/Darkwing father-daughter stuff, because out of all the things I adore about Darkwing Duck, their relationship is at the top of the list!

Without further ado...A Christmas Carol Spoof done DW Style!

The atmosphere of 537 Avian Way bounced between two specific extremes. One was the calm, unfeeling existence of an empty house, entirely noiseless and the epitome of peace. The other was a picture of undiluted chaos. When inclining towards the latter extreme, the house sang with laughter, breaking glass, the technical whirs of video games, smoke alarms, and exasperated shouting. Neighbors knew better than to pass the house's windows lest they receive a hockey puck-shaped bruise to the forehead. Now, however, at 1:23 AM on Christmas Eve, nighttime stragglers were free to pass without fear of injury for the house was as still as a gravestone.

But never for long…

"Gosalyn, it's not a matter of your capability, it's a matter of your safety! How many times have I told you: when we fight Negaduck you are supposed to stay home no matter what!" Darkwing Duck nearly dumped his rambunctious daughter on the floor as he got up from the blue recliner with her still in is lap.

"But Dad—" Gosalyn complained, fiery red pigtails swaying in protest.

"No 'buts' young lady, it's the rule of the house! If you and your 'Quiverwing Quack' persona hadn't showed up, I wouldn't have been obligated to protect you and Negaduck might not have gotten away!"

"Oh, so you're saying I'm the reason we lost? I don't remember me being the one to fall for the banana peel gag again!"

"That was a perfectly justifiable mistake that anyone would have made!" Darkwing sniffed.

"Oh yeah, especially a seasoned crime fighter!" It was the tiniest bit below the belt, but Gosalyn couldn't help giggle as her father's face smoldered at the insult.

"I don't appreciate sarcasm, little lady, and neither does your allowance," he warned.

"Look guys, I don't think it's either of your faults," Launch Pad broke in finally. Their argument had lasted the full thirteen minutes since Negaduck's escape. "I think Negaduck was just extra vigilant tonight, what with it being Christmas Eve and all. You know how he hates happy stuff."

"You're…right LP," Darkwing agreed reluctantly. "But that doesn't mean we let him get away with it! I should be back out there." He gazed wistfully out the window, and Gosalyn sighed.

"Oh, Dad, come on! If we stay home we can still spend Christmas Eve together. Hey, we can watch 'A Christmas Carol' with all the creepy ghosts, and the big, cloaked bringer of death!" She flipped the hood of her Quiverwing cloak over her head to mimic the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.

"Oh, joy. I can hardly wait." Darkwing muttered, earning a glare from his daughter. "Look, Launch Pad, why don't you and Gosalyn stay up watching your little movie that'll give you nightmares while I go catch Negaduck!"

"Dad, we're supposed to spend Christmas Eve as a family. If you let us go with you, though…" Gosalyn trailed off hopefully.

"Absolutely not!"

"Then why don't you stay, DW?" said Launch Pad. "It's Christmas! You're supposed to take a break."

"Oh, I'm supposed to sit here and eat cookies and milk while Negaduck terrorizes my city with his tasteless trickery?" demanded Darkwing.

"Well…that's one way to put it," Gosalyn smirked. "Please, Dad? It's Christmas tradition to spend Christmas with your family." She put on her best pleading pout and waited for the magic to happen.

Her father's eyes softened, but he wasn't putty yet. "Ah, c'mon, Gos, it's just you and Launch Pad."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gosalyn growled.

"Nothing, sweetie," he backpedaled immediately. "It's just that I spend practically every waking moment with you and LP…" he changed his tone when Gosalyn's glare turned to a glower. "And I love every second of it! But this is Negaduck we're talking about—"

"And you fight him practically every other weekend! But if you'd rather spend your Christmas with Negaduck than with us, fine!" Gosalyn shouted, feeling stung.

"Its not like we're your real family, anyway," she mumbled, turning to the staircase.

"Hey, hey, hey, now what's that supposed to mean?" Darkwing demanded, grabbing her should her and spinning her to face him.

"Nothing, Dad." She spat the word. "Now go spend your Christmas with your demonic twin. It's so obvious you'd rather spend it with him than your adopted daughter!" Gosalyn wrenched out of his grip and ran thumping up the stairs to her room.

She threw herself on her bed with the force of an anvil — the springs groaned with the impact. Tears splashed on her pillow. She punched it angrily as if it had done her a great offense. And it had! It caught the tears she wasn't supposed to be crying, proving their existence by the little wet pockmarks on her pillow case.

"I am not a cry baby!" Gosalyn declared to her empty room. She stoutly mopped the tears from her dripping beak. "I'm not a baby either," she added. "I don't need a dad or a Darkwing Duck to take care of me. I can do that just fine on my own!"

Soft footsteps made their way tiredly up the steps, and Gosalyn knew where the webbed feet would soon be headed. With a sigh, she yanked back her blankets and closed her eyes to feign sleep. Dad always fell for it.

A few tentative knocks echoed in the quiet room.

"Gosalyn? Sweetheart, are you awake?" The door creaked open, letting in the light of hall.

Gosalyn kept her eyes firmly shut, but she couldn't help flinching when she felt the weight of her dad's body sink into the foot of her bed. He sat there, utterly still, for a long time. Then she felt his wing brush the bangs tenderly from her face.

"I love you, slugger. Don't you forget it," He murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. The weight at the end of her bed receded, and within seconds the tangible presence of her dad dissolved with the disappearing hall light.

Gosalyn snuffled. She loved her dad more than anything in the world. More than video games, and adventures, and gory movies with monsters and special effects. But, before sleep staked its claim on her, she couldn't help wondering what her life would have been like if Darkwing Duck had never adopted her.

There were many terrible ways to be woken up in the middle of a deep sleep: ice water to the face, someone jumping on your stomach, or smoke filling your lungs when you realize your house is on fire. But to Gosalyn, waking up to the rev of a chainsaw definitely topped the list.

"Wh-what's going on!" She snatched up the hockey stick that she kept by her bedside, her sleep-blurred eyes straining to find the location of the chainsaw. When her eyes met the towering figure of Teddy Scare Redmond Gore — one of her favorite teddy bear zombie flicks, The Lifeblood of Edwin Morose — she froze with fright and thrill.

Gosalyn raised her hockey stick threateningly. "All right, back off whack-job or I'll pound you into fluff and eat your stuffing for breakfast!"

"Hey, take it easy, kid. Don't jump to conclusions." Redmond Gore's voice was muffled by the burlap sack covering his face.

"There's a giant, chainsaw-wielding, teddy bear in my room, what conclusions do you think I'm jumping to?" Gosalyn retorted. She gripped her stick more tightly.

"Look, the whole chainsaw revving thing…I was just trying to wake you up with some theatrics. Didn't think you'd take it so seriously." Redmond Gore placed his beloved chainsaw on the floor in a pacifying gesture.

"So…why's a Teddy Scare from one of my favorite movies in my bedroom?" Gosalyn said slowly, adrenaline replacing her alarm with exhilaration. Redmond Gore, the famous Teddy terrorizer, was in her room! She wanted an autograph ASAP.

"Well, I'm here to answer your question," Redmond Gore replied.

"What question?"

"What life would be like if Darkwing Duck had never adopted you."

"Ohhh…that question. In that case," Gosalyn dropped her hockey stick and plopped down on her bed, "what's the answer?"

"Actually, I'm not really the one with answers. I'm just the messenger bear. But I will tell you this: the ones that have answers will be visiting you tonight. The first ghost—"

"Ghost?" Gosalyn yelled. "Keen gear!"

"Most people don't take the idea of being visited by dead things so…enthusiastically. You're rather unusual," Redmond Gore observed.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, get used to it." Gosalyn waved her wing dismissively. "You were saying?"

"Right. The first ghost is supposed to be here at 2:00 AM, but he's always late." Redmond Gore sighed dramatically, "Too many electrical shocks to the head messed with his internal clock, I suppose…well, I'd best be off. Good luck, Gosalyn Mallard."

"Wait!" Gosalyn cried before he reached the door. "Will you sign my hockey stick for me?"

Redmond Gore looked at her oddly, before his eyes brightened, and she swore that if he didn't have his mask on, he'd be smiling. "Of course."

"Hang on…were'd I put that pen…" She grappled around with the mess on her desk.

"No need." Redmond Gore swiped a massive paw against the sharp teeth of the chainsaw. Gosalyn watched with squeamish delight as he wrote his signature in blood on her hockey stick.

"Here you go." He handed her the hockey stick.

Gosalyn grinned down at it. "You're the best Teddy terrorizer out there, Redmon—"

But by the time she looked up, the Teddy Scare was already gone.