The skies overhead were overcast with clouds, threatening rain, but it never came. The winter months had turned up unreasonably warm for the season, and eventually the short spring had passed over into a dry summer.
In just six months time, St. Canard had been on a rapid decline. Crime had always run rampant here, but nowadays, it was far more absurd and reckless. It was less small time criminal, and more of the boisterous super villain sort, with their twisted plots and insanity causing mass hysteria. All were trying to compete against the Fearsome Five, but failing, and it was the public that had to suffer through it all, innocent bystanders crushed under the weight of a city unfit to protect them. The Fearsome Five had the market cornered on crime, and St. Canard was unequipped to handle them with mere local authorities alone. Even Darkwing Duck seemed overwhelmed.
Drought had a way of cleansing things too, in its own way. It only takes a spark.
Bleary vision finally gave way to the sight of a ceiling overhead, with dim light. It had been several hours since consciousness, and the figure beneath the covers still didn't have the strength to lift their head and look around. They understood they were in a building of some sort, somewhere, but that was all. No other thoughts could be summoned.
Another figure entered the room finally, footsteps loud and clunking, and they seemed to be humming an overly cheery tune.
"I see you're coming to a bit more frequently now! That's improvement, wouldn't you say? I thought you would've kicked the bucket several times, but I had a pret-ty strong feeling about you! I knew you wouldn't let me down."
There was a groan of pain, but no words could be formed.
"Not one for conversation I see. Well that's just fine by me! We'll work on that. For now, you seem to be healing up nicely enough. No further bleeding, the grafts seem to be taking well. I'm overall quite pleased."
There was a flick of a switch, and the dimly lit room was black.
"Where..."
"Where?" The figure stopped fiddling with the tubes and wires hooked up to the figure through their bandages. "Oh, you're...well, you're in my personal abode...slash...laboratory...it's complicated, it's a joint situation at the moment since I've moved, you see. It's a little cramped but it's a temporary solution."
"Hos...hospi..."
"Hos...pital? Oh yes." The figure chuckled, adjusting their glasses. "Yes, you were in one of those. That's where I found you. They had you in the burn center, way in the corner. Guess they thought you weren't going to make it. I mean, I don't blame them. The injuries you sustained were quite severe. I'm surprised you made it there at all. I won't go into the extensive work I've done in, well, saving your life, but you can thank me for the job I've done, once you're cognitively more aware."
There was an exhausted sigh, and they lost consciousness once more.
How much time had passed?
There didn't seem to be any way of knowing here. Not that they had any point of reference to begin with. It could've been years that they had been here, how would they know at this point? They didn't even fully comprehend what was happening to them. They couldn't leave this bed. Day in and day out, a woman would come in and check their vital signs, change their bandages...most of it, they were unconscious for. At first, they didn't think to get a good look at her, but more and more details were starting to come to mind now- the recollection of her wild, untamed hair, her large glasses, and a pink...no, purple jacket.
It was then that they realized they didn't have a name to go with her face.
"My name?" The avian chuckled, shaking her head. "Well, I'm not one for grand introductions unless it involves terrorizing the public..." This made them tilt their head in confusion until she continued. "You may refer to me as Madam Anna Matronic. Madam may suffice if you are unable to converse well enough. The name might not mean anything to you right now, you've not been up to date with current events, but I assure you, it's quite formidable."
"I believe you..."
"Hm. Well you seem to be speaking in full sentences, which is an excellent sign."
Of course, they were glad, but also unsure as to why it was good. Didn't everyone usually speak in full sentences? Well, maybe not everyone.
They looked down to their body, hidden beneath layers of blanket, and tried to move something, anything. It all felt numb. Had they been in an accident? Were their limbs broken?
"You're heavily medicated, in case that wasn't already clear to you. You'd be in tremendous pain otherwise. I've done a lot of work on you to ensure your survival."
It seemed so odd to them, to say something as weak as a 'thank you' to someone, for saving their life from something they have no recollection of, but they did it just the same, and she chuckled.
"No gratitude required, for the moment. Think of it as an investment for us both."
It seemed like a strange way to put it, but they couldn't decipher anything more from it, simply laying back heavily against the nestled pillows.
"I'll leave you to rest then. Just remember, time heals all wounds."
The tall woman finally left them alone in silence once more, something they were growing more and more restless with as their consciousness grew. More questions began to surface, like where they had been before being here? Did they have any family? Friends? Someone that might want to come looking for them. Where exactly was here?
Who exactly were they?
The Mallard household was a buzz with activity as per usual, with Gosalyn seated mere centimeters from the television set, colorful cereal in hand, growing soggier by the minute.
"Yeesh, Gos, you're going to end up glued to that thing if you get any closer! I'm sure you can see it just as well from the couch." Drake commented with a chuckle, finishing off his own breakfast.
"Daaaad!" The redhead whined, turning over her shoulder to fix him with a pout. "You're gonna miss the news!"
"The news, ohhh..." Drake nodded in understanding before frowning suddenly, "The NEWS?! Since when do you watch the news over cartoons?! Oh, to think I'm watching the facets of your childhood slipping away before me already, right in front of my very eyes!"
"Dad." Gosalyn rolled her eyes. "It's the mayor talking about the city, and while normally I wouldn't give two beans what he's got to say, they're supposed to talk about you too!"
"About me?" Drake's brows raised comically before a slow grin spread over his bill. "Well in that case, I agree, a much better choice!"
The program cut back from commercial break, the news logo flashing and blaring with music before panning to a newsroom.
"I'm Guy Goose, and today we bring issues to light that have longtime since been the bearers of controversy. Recent Duckburg crime statistic results have been released, causing other cities to wonder if they've dropped the ball on security, upholding laws, and protecting citizens. Here's what the public has to say..."
"It's never been this bad before." An older feline told the interviewer, shielding her eyes from the sun. "I mean, when I was young, it just wasn't the same. People looked out for one another more. Now, it's like, you can't even go to the store without wondering if some wacko is gonna barge in, demanding light bulbs."
"I don't feel safe sending my kids out to play! Ever since that toy scare with the hidden wind up teeth in the dolls, I just can't trust that they'll be okay on the playground or at the park." Said another woman, shaking her head. "It's a scary world we live in today."
"But that's not all they're saying-" Guy's voice was overlaid through the tape, as it continued to cut through to various clips.
"We need to do something about all the crime. If our police isn't going to protect us, then we have to protect us. That's why we're out here at City Hall, protesting. There needs to be more done to make us feel safe!"
"In fact, about 86% of St. Canard agrees, as shown by a recent poll, that they don't feel like current laws and local authorities are equipped to protect them adequately. And they have a point- recent budget cuts have left prisons decaying and running out of room, and cuts to payroll for officers."
"This isn't like twenty years ago." The captain of police stated. "We're running up against weapons we're not prepared for, we're dealing with things we've never been trained for, we have to learn as we go, which makes things harder."
"But what of cities like Duckburg, who experience little to no crime activity?"
"Duckburg isn't perfect, by any means, but we take great pride in our city, and we want our citizens to feel secure!" Mayor Hogwilde declared in an excerpt. "And what contributes to that is that we are constantly evolving and embracing the wonders of technology! When we fail to make strides in success, the result will reflect that. But as we continue to acknowledge and make changes, the public will react positively to it."
"And such is true for their pride and joy- the mechanical, heroic wonder known as Gizmoduck! Commissioned by Scrooge McDuck, the suit was designed and built by the inventor Gyro Gearloose, and he has since then become iconic and heralded as a true hero of Duckburg, putting a stop to schemes quickly, quietly, and efficiently."
"Originally, he was meant t' guard me money bin." Mr. McDuck himself stated on camera, "But crime is crime, and th' less of it there is, the better off we all are."
"Security like this could be considered in the future for St. Canard, after all, no one can argue with statistics. Webra Walters sits down and speaks to the mayor in a private interview."
"Mayor Webber, what can weally be done about the cwisis of cwime?"
"I feel that we are making progress on understanding ways we can implement better handling of today's current events."
"But how do you feel about people taking the law into their own hands? Can we weally wely on that kind of mentality? If we had someone like Gizmoduck, don't you think people would sleep better at night?"
"There are exceptions to vigilantes, at times. I don't encourage people to dress up in capes and swing around the city, because that can be dangerous, but on occasion, we have had help from such individuals, admittedly. Someone like Gizmoduck might be considered as an addition to our city, however."
"So when I say vigilante, I think the first that comes to mind is Darkwing Duck. Would you say his presence encourages villains, baits them, if you will?"
"I'm not sure, I really couldn't say."
"Because we're noticing that more and more of these cwiminals seem to have themes, costumes; it's all an elaborate spectacle..."
"I don't think it HELPS." The mayor admitted sheepishly. "We're starting to see things like social media playing more and more of a role- the fifteen minutes of fame, that sort of thing. The way our media is handling tragedy is not the greatest, and so all of this, I think, amplifies the way people are trying to get attention."
"Do you think the city would be better off if Darkwing Duck hung up the cape, and we started welying on security in the form of androids, security bots...?"
"I cannot say for sure, it seems too vague to tell. I've yet to see a city completely rely on that kind of a security system. I'm not sure about what an entire task force would be like with this technology. It would cost us millions."
"Millions the city just doesn't have in its budget right now. As for St. Canard's own local hero, the public seems to have a very mixed reaction."
"Darkwing Duck? Eh, he's okay. He's kinda full of himself."
"I think the purple is an odd choice. He should try plaid, gingham maybe. Polka dots. I don't know, something, something to spruce it up a little. Maybe he should wear a tie."
"He rammed my car! I don't care if he was in a high speed chase with St. Canard's most wanted, my insurance went up because of him! If you're watching this, Darkwing, you'd better pay me back what I've been paying for the last year now-!"
"Darkwing Duck is pretty cool. Not as cool as Gizmoduck, but pretty cool."
"I hate him! He's a total jerk! He ruins all of my schemes! He's always crashing in on me, delivering his cheesy one liners! I'm sick of him! All because I want to liberate a few lonely lights! He's a fiend, he's a menace, he's...who were we talking about?" Megavolt himself was on the screen, scratching his head as an explosion went off in the background- the Fearsome Five committing another crime, as per usual.
"The debate doesn't seem to have any conclusion in sight, but one thing we can all agree on- it'll take more than a hero to restore this city."
Drake turned off the television with a grimace, slapping a hand to his face. "What I wouldn't give to stop hearing about that mechanical megalomaniac! What does he have that I don't?!"
"...Good PR?" Gosalyn mustered.
"Can you believe the nerve?! I am the glue holding this city together by its seams, and they dare to compare me with that can of sardines!"
"Well they had some nice things to say too! Like...uhm...uh...well y'know! Eheh."
Drake affixed his daughter with an unimpressed look. "Oh sure, they fawn over HIM, but who's the one they call out for in the dead of night, when Bushroot's unearthing the earth, and Liquidator is tampering with the tap, and Megavolt is maliciously magnetizing the-" Gosalyn rolled her eyes as he spoke and he huffed an exasperated sigh. "No one is ever happy."
"Y'know dad...maybe it's not such a bad thing to ask for help, if you need it." She looked at him innocently, as his expression grew stern, and his hands came to rest at his hips. "I mean! Everyone needs it now and then, it's nothing to be ashamed of! Think about it, the Fearsome Five are just made up of the same guys you've beaten all the time, the only advantage they have now, is that they're working together! There's only one of you, and if YOU put together a super team, it would even the odds! I could even be in it-"
"Now that's enough out of you, young lady! I don't want you anywhere near the Fearsome Five, and that's that! Darkwing Duck does NOT need a super team."
"Aw, daaaaad! Come on! I could help! And maybe you could ask Gizmodu-" His sharp glare conveyed all that it needed to, and she set down her bowl of cereal, scurrying away up the stairs.
"Well if I didn't think television was rotting her brain, I certainly do now." Drake shook his head, sighing. "...A tie though, eh?"