Author's Note: Uh, yeah, another Darkwing fic with Angela and Milly. I'd say this is PG-13 for, uh, mild gore and death? Drake and Morg do make an appearance and it's kind of confusing until you get towards the end. I have this unhealthy fetish for demented twists...
Angela watched on in numb silence. It was happening again and she was powerless to stop it.
Drake was first, brave idiot that he was. No, that was unfair to call someone an idiot when they fought to protect those they loved. But in Angela's cold calculating mind, it didn't matter. Brave or not, idiot or genius, and whether for love or for hate, the end result would be the same. She already envisioned his raised tombstone reading "beloved father and husband." And in those last moments before those strong eyes of his flickered, before his beating heart had been ripped out; he looked at her, knowing he'd been bested and was at the mercy of a mightier foe. He didn't beg. No words at all, not even afraid, just defiant. Then there was the sound of torn fleshy gelatin…and he was gone.
Angela felt a shard of tangible sorrow lodge itself in her gut. She wondered if it bled. Oh, she hoped so.
Morgana was second and her fate no different, more of a challenge, yes, but no different. She was already dead. Her eyes remained blinking in disbelief even as she stared at her own heart in the hands of her enemy.
That left one more…Angela braced herself as she turned towards Milly. Horror was apparent on the duckling's face, but it was dry, no tears. Shock.
"Run!" Angela wanted to scream, but no sound emerged. Instead one foot placed itself in front of the other drawing her closer to her trembling prey. She knelt and slid a gory hand through her sister's hair. Milly just shook and sniffled as she was scooped into a bloody lap.
"Shh, it's okay," Angela heard herself murmur as she rocked back and forth. "It's okay. This is how it's supposed to be." In her mind, she begged and cried once more for Milly to run, to fight back, anything!
"We never could truly be sisters, Mildred," Angela continued stroking the duckling's hair now more red than white. "It's just who we are, who i I /i am. We were born on opposite sides of the mirror… I'm destined to take her place, you know that don't you? I'll destroy her, take her thrown and the destruction will continue. It's who I am." She sounded lost and unsure. "You understand, don't you, Mildred? Why I've done this, this gloriously horrible thing?" Angela gazed down into remarkable eyes wide with terror and ran a gentle hand down her cheek. She felt her throat tighten as she kissed Milly's forehead and closed her eyes. "I love you so very much, Mildred. I'll make sure it doesn't hurt." A resounding crack of vertebrae echoed off the sky and Angela screamed as her darling sister fell limp in her arms.
She screamed and screamed and screamed. She couldn't stop. Not when strong arms tore her from bed, not even when she was crushed against Drake's chest, not when he rumbled over and over that it was just a dream; that he was there. Nothing could harm her. She wished she could say it wasn't protecting she needed but instead clung to him as though he was the last thread of her sanity. The images remained and tremors shook her.
In the door way stood an even paler than normal, but living Morgana comforting a frightened Milly. Milly. Angela stared at her as she tried to take the calming breaths Drake was instructing her to. She was succeeding, barely. Milly stared back, breathing with her, breathing and alive. Drake loosened his hold on her experimentally. Maybe he thought she'd lose it but, Angela didn't move, eyes closed, absorbed in feeling the steady rhythm of his heart against her cheek.