A.N. Inspired by Ghoul of My Dreams and Dead Duck. Most of this fanfic was written slightly after the second novel of The Duck Knight Returns was published. It became clear to me then that I really wanted to write something personal from Morgana's point of view that could somehow address the problem in her relationship with Darkwing that was somehow more true to the canon. By bridging the episodes and building a story line on them, I hope that I have achieved this. I'll upload the story in parts, hopefully a chapter a week, so I have time to look at the chapters again and revise them. I hope you enjoy it. If you did, please comment. If you are a fan fiction writer yourself, you know how much a word can mean.

Sweet Chariot

I

She had substituted her dreams with his. Each night, the same nightmare came back to haunt her. Not one of her own, but a figment of his imagination. A vision that had repeated itself until it had become a habit, like breakfast with black coffee, like flipping through the spell book each morning, like putfting on that particular purple eye shadow for no one. It was the same, uninspiring, sad dream and she knew that one day, it would wear her out completely. Her imagination had run dry, a waste land of nothingness and sameness. She was always propelled into the same dream state. Each night, and each day, she found herself stuck while he was slipping away. In the dream, Morgana could reach out to him, and lord knows she tried, but her fingers were too slender, too slippery, too long. He was like sand, moving its way through the cracks. She had to let him go. In the end, that was what it always came down to, letting go. Apparently that had to come with a nauseating feeling each time.

She found herself awake in the middle of the night, heart pounding, throat sore. The guilt she felt was unbearable. It took her some time to realize it had all been just that, a dream, that very same dream, nothing more. Nightmares tend to leave their marks and this one had been particularly nasty. On top of that, she had to relive it more than once. Of course, Morgana had always enjoyed the more morbid aspects of living. She had grown up as a monster and had always favoured that culture over Saint Canards where she spent most of her life living at night. Still, this dream was darker than the darkness she cherished. In it, she slowly let go of Darkwing while he walked into his afterlife. He had given up on life and said his goodbyes. He disappeared. She couldn't prevent it. It usually ended when she stretched her arms, trying another magic spell on his feathers, but he, a ghost, remained still, untouched. He was transparent, sheer emptiness, could not even be compared to a whisper, a tremor of air or a breath of wind. The image had been strong, had left an impression so cruel that she wondered if she'd ever get rid of it.

Morgana knew it was his dream because she had seen it ages ago when she went through the door to Dream World again. Nodoff had long been defeated, but the door was still open to date and sometimes, she could not help but taking a stroll there and peeking into the dreams of others. One particular night she had stumbled upon one of Dark's nightmares when he was sleeping in his house. She often found herself wishing they were together at night but he was always too busy being a superhero and spending his time at home with Gosalynn and Launchpad. He preferred to sleep at home and never wanted her to say over. 'Because of Gosalynn,' he had explained her once. She didn't blame him for taking care of his kid, trying to be a good father, but it irked her. They had been dating for some months by now and he constantly filtered her out. It left her feeling powerless. Maybe the dream had been spot-on. She could not stand up for herself because she was so afraid to lose him. And in his dreams, he lost her too. If they hadn't been apart, she could have comforted him back then, but she had to leave Dream World and had wandered back to her own bed.

In the nightmare, Dark had passed away and there was not a spell in the world she could fathom that could somehow bring him back to life. There was too little time. He said his goodbye's and asked Launchpad, specifically, to take care of Gosalyn, and told her how much he regretted that they hadn't had more time together. She could have fabricated a thousand spells then and there but it could never be enough. Some facts of life are beyond magic. It had sickened her. Simultaneously, she had realized the limits of her powers, her own incapability to help out which was all the more increased by her intense, loving feelings towards him. At the same time, she had felt his sadness. It had scarred her, this experience, to feel this much and to be able to do so little. Perhaps the dream world had influenced her more than she thought. Perhaps she was living more in her imagination than in reality by now.

Staring at the empty streets of Saint Canard, she placed her hand on the cold window and tried to get a grip on herself. Was she overreacting? Not quite and not yet. Still, she couldn't help but feel occupied with the dream and that fear she had to loose him. She clung to the curtains as she would to his cape. He was far off with his family, one that she was no part of. She could not simply write herself into his life just by observing him. She could not let him go, either.

0

'This is a poor foundation for our relationship,' she spoke to her pets that morning. 'I can just venture into his dreams like that but I see so little of his actual emotions. Perhaps we talk too little. Perhaps I'm a little afraid to discuss our issues as well.'

She listened to the reply of her pets as she would to any magical creature. To an outsider, it would have looked ridiculous but to her, they were family. Darkwing may have Gosalynn and Launchpad, she had them. 'Nonsense, Eek, I don't have intimacy problems.' She emphasized. 'And I do know my boundaries, Squeek! Well, I have to admit it's a bit of an invasion of his privacy but I've only passed the dream door twice to look at his world.'

Squeek moved his wings rapidly. 'No, it's not like that.' He kept on flapping. 'Well, I do know the dream world can blend dreams of different individuals. I remember how Darkwing and I were in it earlier and could manipulate it. He ended up in my dreams as well, but this time, I didn't really… ' If Squeek could have sighed, he would have. 'The difference is that I was me in his dream. I'm sure I could have acted otherwise but it felt like I was really taking part in it, you know. I was at his mercy, affected by his imagination. I had that a few times when I entered the dream world with Nodoff as well. Still, it was kind of odd to experience his side of the dream as well, even if it was just a little.'

In response, Archie held out his tongue disapprovingly. 'Sometimes you just know when you feel someone else sadness and not just yours! Geez, we live near a graveyard, visit a funeral for once!' Squeek sighed while Morgana played with her breakfast quite literally which existed out of a few lizards that still seemed very much alive. 'Well, that is why I went into the door in the first place! Of course I want to know how the dream world works. I want more information, see what it's like. And that I stumbled upon one of Darkwing's dreams, so be it.'

The pets all shook their heads and Archie clacked his tongue. 'I won't do it again, alright?' Morgana stood up and left her breakfast for what it was. The pets exchanged a meaningful gaze with each other and a glare at Morgana. Anyone at this point could have observed they had gotten used to her fits but never let these prevent them from telling her the truth.

Morgana knew that they were partly right about her actions but what had affected her to do this, they would never know. Love was a different matter for their species than for hers. And making her feel guilty over the matter would not work either. She already felt that and it was eating her up. She knew that without much ado Dark would reject her if he ever found out. 'Once a villain, always a villain' was his favourite idiom and this surely fit into what he considered to be a legally gray zone. 'If all fails, I'll tell him I did it to protect us. Because that door is in my house, a house he visits. Lucifer forbid, he, or Gosalyn, would ever step into it by chance and gets warped into Dream World.' She nodded and seemed quite sure of herself.

She tried to experiment with magic to get rid of the dream. In her living room, she conjured up spells that would make her sleep easier and trigger the imagination. She tried to sleep afterwards and woke up in tears. The magic didn't work. When she met Dark later that night – he was so busy, still in a fight with Negavolt who had escaped to a power plant – he left her after a kiss and the brief message that he really, really couldn't make it for dinner. 'I'll make up for it, Morg, my love,' he spoke before driving off in a hurry. 'Sure, sure,' she muttered, 'like always.' Sparks of magic branched from her fingers, the only visible signs of her irritation because she looked so tired. Something had to change in their relationship.

The few books she had on dreams, magic and psychology all emphasized the same thing. That her unconscious was getting the better of her and that, in order to change these sleeping problems, the problems in her real life that caused them had to be solved. Easy as pie, she could just try to talk to him. Except that, most of the time, Dark wasn't really the talkative type and neither was she.

0

When her pets were asleep the night after, she went into the door of Dream Land again. This time, it was particularly foggy, a void of white as far as the eye could see. Sometimes, images appeared. She stepped further, into a dream that might have been Gosalynn's. A little girl jumped over buildings, fighting in a green outfit, against the fearsome five. Another one appeared to be Bushroot's, in which he talked to a woman that appeared to be a colleague. They both wore lab coats and experimented on a giant rat. It was interesting how many of the dreams she stumbled upon were related to people she knew. Perhaps it was impossible to envision or see the dreams of those you had not met. Or perhaps they were less up fronted. She kept on walking, passed Launchpad's dream of the Hungry Hippo, passed the Muddlefoots camping in a psychedelic swamp.

Eventually, a dark dream caught her attention. In it, she saw herself running and tripping in the streets of Saint Canard. Above her, gigantic random objects hovered – tea pots, kettles, a pillow, an hour watch - and Nodoff, controlling them, laughed loudly. The shadows of the objects peered over her. She felt anxious, fired magic spells and tried to get up. It was too late. 'Don't,' she heard herself say before she turned away. Her heart skipped a bit when she woke up. She was in the nexus in Dream World but not by herself.