They were back in the Negaverse.
Darkwing Duck – Drake – hated this place; he hated it with all his being. Yet there was always a reason he came back, for he was the vigilante of St. Canard, and he had to protect his city from its own inexplicable, unfortunate allure to insane super villains.
Only this time, two of those super villains were in this bleak alternate of their reality, the other St. Canard, and Darkwing had to know why.
Launchpad's arm suddenly shot over his right shoulder, finger pointing wildly. "DW! Sharp turn, watch out! Two o'clock now!"
The vigilante made the turn just in time, complimenting himself on his – in his humble opinion - superb control of the Ratcatcher.
"They won't get far! Hang on, LP!" he said excitedly over the wind. He normally didn't push his vehicle to such speeds, at least not for prolonged chases, but she was fabulous so far, and he was enjoying their pursuit more than he would admit to anyone.
Up ahead, Quackerjack looked over his shoulder, and his beak split into a wide grin. He turned the driver's wheel of his newest toy, the Quackershot, and it nearly flew off the asphalt, leaving their pursuer behind in a blue cloud of smoke. Beside him, Megavolt laughed and cheered, throwing his arms out as the buildings blurred by.
A couple lone figures in the darkened street threw themselves to the ground with shrieks of terror as the speeding contraption nearly threw them into orbit. The two villains felt rather than heard something bump against the underbelly of the toy vehicle.
"Hey! Did ya feel that?" asked Megavolt, as he turned around in his seat, expecting to see something, or someone, lying on the road behind them. But they were moving so fast, there wasn't a chance.
"Eh, maybe it was a speedbump," shrugged the toymaker, unconcerned. "Or roadkill. Why, does it bother you?"
Megavolt turned in surprise to look at Quackerjack's perfectly neutral expression. It only lasted a moment, before both villains burst out laughing. Quackerjack was laughing so hard Megavolt had to lean sideways and hold the wheel straight. "Hey hey HEY watch where we're goin'!"
They took a sharp right, destroying a small electrical supplies store in their wake as they flew through one window and crash-exited through the other. The rat squealed in delight as he hugged the microwave that miraculously fell into his lap.
Quackerjack pulled a stray light bulb out of the folds of his jester's hat. "Here, Sparky. Happy birthday to you."
"Happy birthday to me is right," laughed Megavolt as he took the bulb and smiled at it. "Just for this, I won' shock your clown outfit off for callin' me that!"
They neared the outskirts of St. Canard. Houses became sparse and distanced. Abandoned farmlands lay lonely underneath the night sky. "I wonder what happened here," Quackerjack wondered out loud. "Where is everyone?"
"I counted like, twenty people tops since we got here," shrugged Megavolt. "I wanna cry, this city is so borin' – oh hey look, Duckburg ahead!" he said as he barely caught the letters on the old, peeling billboard they blew past.
"How far is it?"
"No idea, I jus' saw the D and the Urg."
"And you just assumed that Durg is the same as Duckburg?"
Megavolt gave his partner a dirty look. "Jus' shut up and drive. I wanna get this heist over with before that witch changes her mind!"
"First stop, the old coot's money bin then?" snickered the toymaker, and shifted gear again. Duckburg eventually came into view.
oOoOoOoOoOo
The witch pulled her long purple shawl more securely around her body. The only feature of her face they could see were her large, ice-blue eyes.
Inside a glittering, star-filled gypsy tent, Megavolt and Quackerjack sat scross from her at a rickety round table. Behind her, a raven was fast asleep with his head tucked underneath a wing. Outside, the delighted screams of children and bellows of amusement ride conductors continued in the hot, humid afternoon. It was the annual Duckburg Magical Carnival, habitually upheld near the rural edges of the sunny town.
Megavolt looked all around him, rather stunned at the magical stars hanging all around them inside the small purple tent. They emitted a warmth, a kind of energy that was not quite electric but oddly appealing to him just the same. He tried to hold one, but it smoothly slipped out of his grasp. Beside him, Quackerjack was rather put out that this gypsy was not interested in reading his palm.
"I betcha she ain't even a real gypsy," he leaned into his friend's ear and whispered. Then he looked back at her and asked: "If you won't play along then why did y-"
"I'm no gypsy, you fool!" spat Magica impatiently. "I find you outside eating cotton candy and your friend stealing batteries from light sticks and I bring you inside to make a deal with you!"
"No, thanks," said the rat flatly. "We're layin' low for a while."
"Yeah, can't a couple super villains take a vaca?" agreed Quackerjack, grinning.
"I knew you'd be here today," said the sorceress. "I can predict the future."
Megavolt rolled his eyes and groaned. He leaned a hand to his cheek and the old table leaned slightly with his weight. "Riight. An' I bet this dusty bowling ball here was your line."
"That's right," went on Magica, unconcerned with his sarcastic note. "Crystal Orb shows me flashes of what is yet to come..and tells me something extraordinary once every ten years – " she stopped as they burst into guffaws.
"Some crystal ball this is!" laughed Megavolt, pounding the table. "Works once every ten years! And how old are you, missy, twenty-three? Twenty-four?"
"I am many decades older than your great GREAT grandfather, you ignorant fool!" exploded the witch, insulted. Her eyes drilled holes into the rat. "You dare to judge woman by her appearance?!"
Quackerjack and Megavolt's laughter ceased, and they stared at her in confusion.
"I brought you in here to make deal with you. I want you to bring something to me, and in exchange, you can have fortune of the richest duck in the world!"
Quackerjack perked up. "McDuck's tillions..? Well, I could build all the prototypes I could ever dream up with that kinda money.."
"No thanks," said Megavolt flatly, crossing his arms. "I'm not in this super villain business for the money."
Magica was taken aback, and her widened eyes showed it. "What do you want, then?"
"It's my purpose to free all the enslaved electric appliances of the world," said the rat dramatically, raising an arm into the air. "I don' do it for the money. I don' even do it for fame – I do it because their cries for help keep me awake at night!"
Magica just kept staring.
Quackerjack grabbed his friend's shoulders and leaned closer. "But think about it, Megs! That money bin of McDuck's must have thousands of electrical appliances inside! Let's do this together! I'll get the funding of my dreams, and you get to save all those little guys!"
Megavolt turned to look at his friend, and grinned widely. "I love the way your mind works. But, wait.." he turned to look back at the sorceress. "This is all too good to be true. What d'ya want in exchange for McDuck's money?"
"All I want…is teeny baby dime that the old duck keeps in glass case in his office," she said, bringing two fingers together to empathize 'teeny'. "That dime is everything to me. With it, I will be the most powerful sorceress in the world, and I will be able to put my little brother back the way he was," she added, for sympathy factor.
"Hmm, I dunno," said the rat thoughtfully. "We gotta think this over, my partner and I. McDuck may be old, but that duck's got the fighting spirit of a mother grizzly."
"Even if we get past his security system, and we can," Quackerjack continued his partner's train of thought. "We'd have to fight him. Think of how embarrassing it would look when he beats us up…"
"The others wouldn' let us hear the end of it!" finished the rat dramatically, grabbing his head.
"What are you talking about?!" cried the witch. "Just kill him and get done! He's pushing 80, for Merlin's sake! How difficult can an old duck be?"
"Ain't ya ever heard of Scrooge McFreakingDuck, missy?" said Megavolt in disbelief. Magica wanted to scream and flip the table over. Those guys were super villains?!
But then she calmed down, a smile coming to her beak as she remembered that she still hasn't divulged the most important detail of her plan. It was oddly easy to get carried away with those two villains.
"You won't be getting lucky dime of the Scrooge McDuck you know; you will be getting it from other Scrooge McDuck, in other universe. My Crystal Orb showed me.
"In Negaverse, Scrooge McDuck is a lonely, cheating coward. He hardly leaves money bin. He is terrible to his kin. Nobody loves him. Stealing Number One Dime will be easier…"
oOoOoOoOoOo
This Duckburg was definitely more alive than the St. Canard they had just left. Stores were open and busy. The sound of children's laughter from the backyards was loud and genuine, and most obviously, people were freaking out over the villains' sudden appearance on their roads. Despite the wind, they could still hear people's alarmed yelling.
The Quackershot tore down Main Street, straight towards the colossal building that towered over Duckburg atop a brown hill. It was as essential a symbol to Duckburg as the Eiffel tower was to Paris, and the pyramids were to Giza. Megavolt could feel the vast electrical power circulating within that building, and all those little voices - hundreds of electrical gadgets and little power-saving light bulbs – calling to him persistently like little children.
"Go go go!" he said to his partner eagerly, shaking his shoulder back and forth.
"I'm going!" laughed the toymaker. "Aren't we being reckless as heck! Didn't the gypsy witch tell us to stay under the radar or we'll run into that tin can Gizmoduck?"
"We can handle him," the rat responded confidently. "Besides, what're the odds of him comin' after us to the Negaverse anyway?"
"What about the one that lives in this universe?"
"Don' worry about him," said Megavolt with a dismissive wave. "He doesn't live in Duckburg. And even if he does show his ugly beak, he won' raise a finger to save McDuck."
"Do you reckon she can see straight through that ball? It looked pretty filthy t'me.."
Their vehicle ran over something, and a man – a duck, Megavolt decided by the unusual voice – screamed in horror. The rat only vaguely wondered why, before he forgot about it altogether a moment later.
Quackerjack shot up the hill, and the money bin's high double doors loomed. His right hand flew over an array of buttons, and Megavolt let out a yelp of surprise and toppled back in his seat when the vehicle's hood sprung open, and a powerful gush of a deep blue acid burst forth from a miniature cannon. The entire toy vehicle recoiled, but within seconds, the doors had been eaten through. Megavolt's hyper-keen ears could hear the very reaction itself in its horrifying chemical destruction.
"What in Edison's name is that sludge?" he asked his partner as the vehicle drove over the tiled floor.
"Se-se-secret~," sang Quackerjack playfully. "I call it… Vinegaricid," he said proudly. "I've been experimenting with it in a variety of toys."
"…You just totally made that name up right now, didn' y-?"
A bullet nearly grazed his cheek and he shrieked. They both whirled around. The toymaker slammed the brakes, and the Quackershot screeched terribly across the smooth tiles. Before it could fully stop, another two gunshots rang. Quackerjack ducked, and pushed Megavolt's head down behind the dash. They peeked ever so slightly over it as the vehicle skidded to a halt.
Up ahead, against the farthest wall, was a large mahogany desk, flipped onto its side in a makeshift barrier. Bags of sand surrounded it to complete the odd sight. Over the desk, a pair of terrified eyes half-hidden underneath an army helmet stared unblinkingly at them.
"Come out with yer hands up or ah'll empty both bandoliers in yer heads!" his voice was unmistakable, Scottish accent and all.
But it was also very wrong.
oOoOoOoOoOo
"They came through here, alright," the vigilante muttered darkly to his partner as Duckburg appeared on the horizon. The Quackershot's tyre marks adorned the main street up ahead. Windshields and side windows lay in shattered pieces on the road, and people's voices were a continuous, anxious pitch. A cluster of people was steadily growing around something neither Darkwing nor Launchpad could see, but Darkwing knew what a hit-and-run looked like.
"They're gonna get the damn chair for this," hissed Darkwing, and he revved his vehicle. With a burst of acceleration, the Ratcatcher bypassed the group of people trying to rescue a fallen citizen and tore up the road towards McDuck's money bin.
"Gosh, I hope that person makes it…" said Launchpad, looking behind him one more time.
You're too kind, Launchpad..thought his partner. "We can't help him now, LP. Let 911 handle it. We got a couple murderers to catch.."
A flash of something white shot across their path, leaving a trailing blaze in its wake. Darkwing had to slam his brakes, not completely stopping but dropping speed drastically nonetheless, and Launchpad nearly tipped forward out of his sidecar. He yelped in pain when his torso very ungently slammed into the dash.
"The hell did you get your license!" yelled Darkwing crossly after the speeding demon. "Moron! Some people just shouldn't be allowed to use the streets!"
"Ain't that Gizmoduck?!" Launchpad gasped, rubbing his chest.
"Gizmoduck?!" cried Darkwing. He leaned forward sharply, refusing to believe it at first. "No way, why would...it – it is him! What is he doing in the Negaverse?!"
"Maybe he's on their trail, too!"
"Why?" cried the vigilante, sounding not unlike a child who's yet again been grounded from playing with his favorite toy. "Why is he even here?! Can't he just stick to his little green Duckburg and leave me and MY city and MY alternate universe alone?!"
"Maybe if you work together, D-"
"Heck NO!" He floored the pedal, and the Ratcatcher tore down the street. Launchpad yelped again as he toppled backwards in the sidecar, slamming his back this time.
"Gizmoduck don't you start anything without me, you hear?!" hollered Darkwing after his rival, his tail clear off the seat as he leaned so far forward on his vehicle that Launchpad had to yank him back by his cape.
oOoOoOoOoOo
The Scrooge that scampered out of his hiding spot truly looked his frail age of eighty. His voice was old and weak. He walked with a limp, and his chest heaved with the effort of moving.
The barrel of his rifle was pointed shakily at the two villains, and Quackerjack knew that he wouldn't be fast enough to blow the coot up with one of his bombs. McDuck's eyes were practically in the middle of his head in fear – his irises dilated and wild and desperate. It was the look of a man that had absolutely everything to lose.
The two villains look at each other with wide eyes, and lifted their hands up simultaneously. Somewhere underneath the alarm he felt, Megavolt was absolutely embarrassed for the two of them.
"Who are you?" demanded the old duck hoarsely. "What do you want from me? I got nothing for ye! Aa'm up to mah beak in debt!"
"Easy gramps, easy," said Megavolt, waving his raised hands desperately and taking a step forward. "We ain't gonna hurt ya. Stop wavin' that around!"
"Donnae move!" shrieked Scrooge, holding the rifle up tighter and pressing its bottom even further into his chest to keep it from shaking. "You're all the same! This filthy country has never been good to me once. Once! Everyone wants something from me! Everyone's trying to pull a fast one on 'old, senile McDuck'! This sewerpipe town of bamboozlers is trying to take everything I've worked for and then shoot me like a dog! Well over mah dead body! Get out! Get. OUT!"
"He's cur-aazy-!," breathed Quackerjack to his friend. Both villains shot each other a quick, sideways glance and wordlessly agreed: let's get out of here.
"You know what, I think we're at the wrong landmark!" announced Megavolt loudly with a forced laugh. "We shouldn't be here! We were actually supposed to visit the statue of Cornelius Coot. It's our first time in Duckburg, ya see..he he he."
Scrooge's initially terrified face morphed into an unpleasant mix of fear and rage. "You're making fun of meh..?" he said in a low whisper. "You're talking down to me, eh? Now they make tour visits to go see the CRAZY OLD DUCK, EEH?"
"Don't shoot!" shouted Quackerjack despite himself at the wildly-waved gun. Megavolt had no doubt the old coot could, and would. His ears picked a familiar sound from behind them, like a low-key motor. His heart jumped with desperate hope. Please let anyone come here. Please let it even be Darkw-
"WHAT IS THIS?" boomed a voice. All three heads whirled at the new arrival. A duck in a white robotic suit on a single wheel came through the burned doors, and stopped behind them. "Burglars, in McDuck's sanctuary? Not on my watch! Put aside your weaponry, all of you, for Giiizmoduuuck is here!"
"..What was that about him not following us?" Quackerjack whispered to his partner.
"Gizm'Duck!" screamed Scrooge. "Get rid of them! They're trying to kill me-!"
"I'm the one who's going to kill you," said another voice. "I'll never forgive you, old bastard!"
A duck – previously hidden by Gizmoduck's broad robotic shoulders – hopped off of his carrier's back. He seemed to be young, but it was only a fleeting impression.
The duck's eyes were old and dull. His face was ashen and gaunt, prematurely lined with hardship and grief. A hand went into his suit, followed warily by Scrooge's eyes, and drew a pistol. He aimed the barrel at the old duck and removed the safety.
"I'll never forgive you.." repeated the duck hoarsely, as if there were no remaining words on the earth to describe what he felt. "I'll never forgive you. I hope you burn."
Scrooge seemed to choke on his own tongue. His rifle shook in his arms, and it was as if his shoulders suddenly remembered their age-old feebleness - the barrel began to slowly dip downwards without its holder noticing.
"..A-ah know you're not that kind of man, nephew," tried Scrooge. "Please..please put the gun down. You're not a murderer."
The gun shook terribly in Donald's hands. "Shut up. You know, you don't even deserve to be shot - that's too good for you. You deserve to burn. I want to see you burn so badly, but I don't know how to make it hurt enough!" His finger was on the trigger, but somehow he didn't seem to be able to pull it.
The two villains remained trapped between the two ducks, directly in the line of fire, barely breathing. Gizmoduck silently watched everything from where he stood.
"Nephew, pl-"
"Don't. You're nothing to me. Just die. Do Duckburg and the world a favor and die, you lowlife coward."
That seemed to strike a chord with Scrooge, and the old duck's eyes sparked up, but with desperation, not happiness. "Ah never did anathing-!"
"You. Took. EVERYTHING. From me!" screamed the sailor, tears running down his face. "I should have never entrusted you with my mom, or my cousins, or my sister, or my boys-" his words became near-impossible to understand as sobs wracked his body. "Nothing and nobody was ever dear to you!"
"Ah did my best!" cried Scrooge, eyes wild. "Do you think ah meant to hurt any of them? Ah tried! Ah tried so hard, Donald! What about Louie?! Ah took good care of Louie!"
"Louie's dead! Those two bastards ran him over on the street!" screeched Donald hysterically. "Trying to get to you!"
Scrooge made a distressed sound. "NO! It's nae mah fault! Ah didn't have anathing to do with this!" he screamed, looking more terrified with each passing second. "Ah didn't ask for this! Ah never meant-!"
"You never asked for any of this, I know," spat Donald hatefully. "It's always an accident with you, isn't it? You never mean to put anyone in harm's way or save your own feathers when things look ugly or shoot anyone when you're feeling paranoid. It all just happens on its own because the world is conspiring against you!"
"Keep us outta your family feuds, you two quacks!" interrupted Megavolt desperately.
"They're trying to kill me!" yelled Scrooge, pointing wildly at Megavolt and Quackerjack. "They killed Louie! They're the ones who deserve to die, not me!"
"I don't know why the hell they're here and I don't care," hissed Donald. "A thousand ducks in this city alone want your head, Scrooge. What's a couple more?
You brought this upon yourself. You put yourself in this position, so don't go throwing the blame on somebody else you coward!"
Donald's feet were moving on their own, carrying him around the villains towards his cowering uncle. The grief was temporarily at bay; it was now rage, and sheer determination for revenge. "I'm going to kill you," he said in a voice devoid of emotion. Scrooge began scrambling backwards, half-tripping under the weight of his own rifle. His eyes were as wide as saucers. Megavolt and Quackerjack clung to each other.
Gizmoduck, whose silence had made everyone all but forget his presence, suddenly extended a large gloved hand, and gently placed it on Donald's. He dipped the barrel towards the floor, and the sailor turned his hopeless eyes up to the robotic duck's visors.
"I'll handle this," was Gizmoduck command, not unkindly. Donald's lined face remained frozen even as the other duck pried his fingers off of the weapon, and let it clatter to the floor. Megavolt breathed a sigh of relief, and Quackerjack pulled out his Mr. Banana Brain with a relieved grin, patting the small puppet's hand on his partner's shoulder.
Gizmoduck then turned to the old duck. His right hand transformed into a type 90 single barrel, and shot Scrooge McDuck point blank in the face.
oOoOoOoOoOo
The Ratcatcher burst into the Money Bin right as the sound of a gunshot echoed off the walls.
They didn't see the bullet leave its barrel, but they did see the blood as it left a curving trail in the air, and Scrooge McDuck as he fell backwards to the ground, dead.
Launchpad cried out in horror. He slapped both hands over his beak, his eyes open windows to the horror that filled his heart. "Oh..oh m-my God-"
"What's the meaning of this?!" cried Darkwing, feeling horror himself, and his reflexes faltered. He slammed the brakes sloppily, and the large motorcycle slid shakily over the cracked tile floor. Megavolt and Quackerjack threw themselves out of the way, and Gizmoduck veered the vehicle aside before it could kill Donald, who was on his knees, out of the world, staring at his uncle with hollow eyes.
Launchpad scrambled out of the cart even before the vehicle stopped, and ran past the two scrambling villains – mindlessly shoving Quackerjack out of his way – to the old duck's side. He sank down to his knees, and upon gazing at his old boss's face, burst into sobs.
"What've you done?!" demanded the vigilante, and he roughly slapped away the gloved hand that was offered to him. He stood up and looked over at the body his partner was kneeling over. He recognized the person. He whirled around and stared up at the visors with wide eyes. "What have you done?" he repeated. "This – this was an accident, wasn't it? This better be an accident, Gizmoduck!"
The taller, mechanical duck was silent for a moment, and then simply said: "No."
Darkwing let go of the white arm he did not even remember grasping. His hands fell numbly to his sides, but his eyes – sharp and searching, remained unblinkingly fixated on the visor, as if trying to drill through it unto the eyes of the rival he didn't really know.
"Why-?"
"McDuck has caused more corruption and heartbreak than you could begin to understand," said Gizmoduck. "Not the grandiose evil you might know – nothing like those two thieves –" he jerked his head towards Megavolt and Quackerjack. "- but the subtle, greedy manipulative evil that poisons you from the inside out…the toxicity that you only realize is killing you when it is too late..
No one could make him see the error of his ways. Tonight, he had broken his family's heart for the last time."
"Something's wrong with you," said Darkwing faintly. "You wouldn't do something like this. That's not how we do things - that's not what the Justice Ducks is about! You -!" he whirled around and glared at the two villains, who were – ever so subtly, trying to inch away from the scene. They froze. "You did something to him! Megavolt!" he roared.
Megavolt, to his inner mortification, found himself shrinking slightly away from his nemesis's dangerous green orbs. "I didn't do nothin', Dorkwing! The loony old coot was gonna blow our brains out! I didn' know the tin can was gonna blow his brains out!"
Darkwing looked back at the mechanical duck, who regarded him with not a touch of remorse. He wanted to hit him. He wanted to rip off Gizmoduck's helmet and scream in his face and batter him to the ground and let him know how utterly and completely backstabbed he felt. More than ever, he wanted to know who Gizmoduck really was.
"…You're insane," the vigilante said hoarsely, his voice failing to hide the horror, disgust, and betrayal he felt. He looked around to where his grieving friend was. Launchpad was cradling Scrooge's body against his chest, tears streaming down his face. The other duck – a young man in a sailor's suit – only stared like he couldn't fathom what he was seeing.
Without realizing what he was doing, Darkwing walked over and kneeled down next to his partner. He could feel Launchpad's body shake with sobs, and in the most inopportune moment, his heart broke. He couldn't bear the sight of his friend in so much pain. Launchpad had never been to the Negaverse, and this was not even the Scrooge McDuck he knew, but this was still terribly hard for him.
"It's gonna be okay," he said softly to the pilot, squeezing his arm. "He's not the one you know. Come on, LP. I promise. I promise, this is a different McDuck.." He didn't expect a reply, nor did he need one. But he knew his friend heard him.
"..and you're not Gizmoduck," he said, rising up to his feet again. He faced the alternate of his rival with absolute certainty. "Not the one I know, anyway. You're the Gizmoduck of the Negaverse."
"Negaverse…is that what you call it?" was all Gizmoduck had to say. "Then you are the Negaduck of the Darkverse.."
"..is that what you call it?" wondered Darkwing, not realizing he had parroted the other duck. "How do you know ab-?"
"It doesn't matter. Why have you come here?"
"I – to capture those two villains," the vigilante said. "They're from my city, and we're taking them back."
"You aren't taking them anywhere," said the mechanical duck. "Leave."
Darkwing's self-control was hanging by a thread as it was. "Excuse me?" he demanded coldly.
"You," Gizmoduck said with a gesture of his hand. "and your friend are free to go. Those two are not leaving this building."
"Look, I don't have time for this!" spat Darkwing. "Those two criminals are from my own city, my turf. Let me get this damn ordeal over with because I'd really like to be back home by 7:00a.m at mos-"
"You have no business in this city," cut in Gizmoduck. There was a definite iciness to his voice this time. "I don't care where they're from. I, Gizmoduck, will protect this city – and every city – till my last breath."
"I don't trust you," said the vigilante. His voice was strong, but his heart beat loudly in his ears. "You just murdered a citizen, right in front of me. You will do the same to those two. I can hear it in your voice. I can see it in your face."
Metaphorically speaking, that is..I really can't see anything through those visors..
"We didn't sign up for this, Megs-!" he heard Quackerjack whisper frantically behind him.
"Let'im try. Let'im," hissed Megavolt back. He then said something more, but Darkwing didn't catch it.
"You should've left it to the police," continued the masked mallard. "You think you're above the law. You're a hack."
"The police wouldn't have done anything against McDuck. What McDuck did isn't written in the rules.."
"Bullshit. So you decided to play the executor instead – you're outta your mind," said Darkwing, more disgusted by the second.
"..and the police definitely won't do anything against those two," went on the mechanical duck "There is no justice in Duckburg. Or in St. Canard. Someone had to step up and assert it."
"This is your idea of justice?!" cried Darkwing. "You arrogant bastard! You have no right – the world doesn't revolve around you! There's the Friendly Four, in St. Canard! I know you've heard of them! Why aren't you working with them?"
Gizmoduck actually laughed. A sneering, unpleasant sound that made Darkwing's gut roil. "Those fools could not stop someone like you from terrorizing their city, what use are they to me? To anyone? They couldn't even save a little girl!"
Darkwing felt the air dissipate from his lungs. "What are you talking about?"
Gizmoduck didn't answer. Instead, he turned his gaze over the vigilante's head at Launchpad. The pilot was gently wrapping the old duck's body in his long, cream-colored scarf. Dark blood was smeared across the front of his attire "They weren't too different from your friend there.."
"What happened to them?! Answer me!"
"They tried to stop me. I destroyed them."
Darkwing did not even register punching Gizmoduck in the beak.
The mechanical duck let out a surprised grunt, and he almost lost his balance. The hand that impulsively came up to touch his beak had to change its course and stop the roaring mallard's foot mere centimeters from shattering his visor. He looked into the masked duck's face, and saw only rage. The two ducks locked in fierce combat.
Quackerjack grabbed Megavolt's arm. "Let's split!"
"What, and miss the final episode of Clash of the Egos?" said Megavolt, but allowed himself to be half-dragged away. They almost made it to the front doors, but then the rat realized with a jolt that there was no one stopping them. McDuck was dead, the two ego masters were fighting to the death, and the remaining two ducks were in shock.
"Wait, Quackerjack! Let's go the other way! Nothing's stoppin' us!"
"No way! Let's get outta here before he really blows our brains out!"
Megavolt pulled his charge gun from its holster. "Let 'em try! We're ready this time," he said with a grin. "C'mon, you don' want the guys back home sayin' Megavolt and Quackerjack don' get their jobs done, do ya!"
Donald watched the two heroes pummel each other in stunned silence. He let the two thieves run by him without even a glance. He didn't know what they wanted and he didn't care.
It felt like an eternity since they came here, but it had been really only minutes. Gizmoduck, the only hero Duckburg, Goosetown and St. Canard could ever truly rely on, was engaged in a vicious fight with a masked duck he didn't know who labelled him a murderer and a hypocrite. Donald didn't understand it; Gizmoduck has always been good to the decent citizens of Duckburg, and utterly unforgiving to anyone who tried to stop him from protecting them. His persecution of the wrongdoers may be harsh, but does that make him a murderer?
Gizmoduck even spared him the horror of killing his own uncle – he did it himself so that Donald wouldn't have to. Donald thought he'd be relieved.
But to his growing horror, as shock began to slowly dispel its heavy fog from his thoughts, he realized he felt nothing of the sort…the sudden, yet long-awaited death of his uncle gave him no closure, and his mind began to reach out and torturously lap at the edges of the black, crushing loneliness that was creeping into his soul. He realized that tears had re-started their course down his face.
The pilot – LP, the masked duck called him? – had whirled his head around at the sound of his friend literally snapping. Seeing the two ducks fight so viciously seemed to bring him slowly out of his own shock. "Darkwing-!" he called to his partner in warning, but Darkwing was no longer hearing anything around him.
"Did you know my uncle?" asked Donald suddenly. There was no other way of posing such a question in such a situation.
Launchpad looked at the sailor's familiar, tear-stained face with swollen red eyes. He almost looked like he didn't hear the question, but after a long moment, he tightened his embrace on the old duck's body against his chest.
"..you could say that.." he said in a raspy, choked voice.
"But do you know what he's – he was like? The things he did-?" somehow it felt crucial that Donald pull this pilot out of his grief. Scrooge didn't deserve anyone's tears when he himself had never cried for anyone in his life. And this duck..his sadness was heartbreaking and genuine and Donald thought he deserved better.
"I..I know your uncle in our own world," whispered Launchpad, snapping Donald out of his thoughts. "He's – I –" the pilot was at a loss for words. Donald remained silent but attentive, trying to catch the barely audible words. "He's a wonderful person and..and I just c..when Gizmoduck –"
"They're different people, then," said the sailor. He wiped his face in his sleeve. "If there could exist another universe, then I guess I can believe that someone out there could have loved Scrooge McDuck."
Launchpad's face was so sad that Donald regretted saying what he did. "Donald, I'm so sorry.."
"Don't be. Nothing's gonna change the way I felt about him. I'm the one who's sorry you had to be here..in the wrong universe, at the wrong time.
"There's nothing you can do," he went on tonelessly. "Just take your friend and go. I'm sure Gizmoduck will let you go. You're not bad people."
"I..I don't think we agree on the definition of bad, Donald," said Launchpad seriously. A sliver of a spark began to return to his eyes, and his voice became stronger. He hugged Scrooge's body close to his chest one last time, then laid him down and rose up shakily to assist his partner. "I can't let Gizmoduck kill any more people like that."
Donald stood up as well. "What're you gonna do?" he asked warily. The pilot was about to reply when he realized that Quackerjack and Megavolt were nowhere to be found.
They're gone, he thought in alarm, and he turned to the two battling ducks. "That's enough, both of you! Megavolt and Quackerjack are gone! Darkwing! Darkwing!"
The masked mallard's fighting was becoming visibly more strained. Launchpad could hear his searing, gasping breaths as his lungs and muscles began to fail him, and so did Gizmoduck. The mechanical duck grinned when he saw the opening, and Launchpad could only cry out in warning, but there was no way Darkwing could evade it in time.
A mechanical arm slammed into Darkwing with the force of a Ratcatcher, catching him in the side of the head. He flew into the wall, and collapsed to the floor in an unconscious heap.
"Leave him alone!" shouted the pilot, and he threw himself on the mechanical duck's back as the latter made to punch the lights out of the fallen duck. He locked both arms around Gizmoduck's neck and pulled back as hard as he could. The mechanical duck grunted as his air supply was significantly cut down, and tried to pry the pilot off of his back.
"Get off of me, you big galoot!" shouted Gizmoduck, voice rising several octaves as his breath shortened. Something about his voice struck Launchpad as almost familiar. "I will not allow this obstruction of justice! Get off or I will kill you!"
He extended his mechanical arms and grabbed the pilot by the back of his attire. With a startled yelp, Launchpad found himself somersaulting through the air and he was suddenly looking into Gizmoduck's visors upside down. The duck looked at him coldly, then slammed him to the ground.
"Gizmoduck!" shouted Donald, running to the pilot's side. Launchpad let out a pained yell and arched his back. "Stop it, they're good people!"
"Don't let them fool you," said Gizmoduck. "People who advocate for mercy upon wrongdoers are the silent killers of this world; criminals don't deserve to be heard, they deserve to die. Honest people deserve to live unafraid."
"Y- you don't get to make t-that kinda judgement!" gasped Launchpad through his pain.
Half the lights overhead suddenly went dark.
"An outage," said Gizmoduck, raising his eyes to the ceiling.
"No. Megavolt," corrected Launchpad as Donald tried to help him into a seated position. He gasped as another bolt of pain shot down his spine.
"Consider yourself lucky," sneered the mechanical duck as he looked back at the pilot. "I don't normally fight people on my first meeting them..and I am hero enough to never battle a down opponent.
"I will let you and your arrogant friend live this time. I will rid Duckburg of those two thieves, alone as I always have. Farewell and good riddance."
"Wait! No, you can't just kill them –!" cried the pilot but of course, it fell on deaf ears. Gizmoduck promptly disappeared through the dark hallway. The din of the money bin suddenly seemed much louder, stepping over the threshold and into Launchpad's consciousness. He picked up Megavolt's faraway jubilant raving from somewhere above.
Darkwing was still on the floor close by. He uttered a pained groan, and Launchpad's heart jumped desperately. "C'mon, DW. C'mon, please..."
But it was too soon, and blackness enveloped Darkwing's senses once more, the battle with consciousness lost.
oOoOoOoOoOo
"Megs, someone's coming!" hissed Quackerjack.
Megavolt didn't hear him over the static filling his brain; he was giddily transferring electricity from a laser security box into his outlet. A bag full of lightbulbs was clutched in his left hand. He was in bliss.
"Megavolt! Sparkbreath!" said the toymaker frantically. He couldn't reach to snap his partner out of it without becoming a singed marshmallow in the process. He threw discretion to the wind and shouted. "Someone's coming! You screwball!" He grabbed a loose screw from the floor and threw it at the rat.
Megavolt twitched rather roughly when the metal disturbed his transfer process, and he glared at Quackerjack. "What did ya get me outta my happy place for?! I told ya we'll go for the money when I'm done!"
"Someone's comin-"
The ceiling above them collapsed with a deafening crash. Megavolt threw away the wires with a shriek and his face was suddenly a foot off the floor when an agile Quackerjack plucked him off his feet and threw him over his shoulder – upside down – and jumped gracefully aside, barely dodging a slab of debris from crushing both their skulls.
Gizmoduck appeared from the dust like a lone wolf reveals itself on a lonely road of fog. Megavolt pulled out his charge gun and aimed at the mechanical duck. "Come any closer and you'll be nothin' but a spit on a griddle!"
A small smile appeared on the mechanical duck's beak. "You remind me of a gadget boy I fought not long ago," he said as he advanced towards the two villains. "It was a fierce battle, but he lost. And so will you."
"Keep talkin' big, ya over-inflated toolbox! You can't touch us."
"We're Quackerjack and Megavolt," quipped the toymaker with a wide grin. "and these two masterminds like to play rough!"
"The way I like it," said Gizmoduck, grinning even wider. "It's been a while since I had a real challenge."
His raised his mechanical right arm, and it transformed into an M50 shotgun. Megavolt's guard wasn't down this time. "Oh no, you don't!"
Megavolt's electricity tore through the air with surprising precision, and Gizmoduck's weapon jammed. The duck looked down at his arm in surprise. "Impressive aim."
The rods on Megavolt's head cackled with energy, and it ran down his arms and into the gun in his hand. Behind him stood the toymaker, peeking over his shoulders with a peevish grin. "He got ya there~! Now it's my turn!"
He leap-frogged over his partner's head, whipping out a stuffed toy from his pocket. Gizmoduck's working arm shot outwards to cut Quackerjack's path, but the jester swiftly turned in midair and instead slid down the extended limb with a whoop. "It's PLAYTIME!"
Another arm shot out from behind Gizmoduck's broad shoulders, and grabbed Quackerjack by the throat. "I always keep a couple extra limbs when the match gets a little rough," he said triumphantly.
Megavolt grit his teeth, and aimed to shoot, but Gizmoduck made sure to use his new duck shield to the best of its capabilities. "I wouldn't pull that trigger if I were you," he said. "I don't like putting anyone in pain, even lowlife like you."
Megavolt wanted to gag. "Look who's talkin'! Put 'im down!"
"Wait, wait, wait," said Quackerjack, looking frantically into Gizmoduck's visors and waving his hands frantically. "Before this fight goes on any furth- erghk!" Gizmoduck squeezed his throat ruthlessly.
"Put 'im down!" repeated Megavolt, the feeling of battle euphoria dissipating as quickly as it had formed, fear replacing it. This Gizmoduck was merciless, and it didn't seem like he wanted a prolonged battle to begin with. The canned bastard was toying with them.
Quackerjack's hands scratched at the thick rubber of Gizmoduck's hands to no avail. His feet kicked in the air and no words would come out of his beak.
"I could crush your windpipe right now," said the mechanical duck softly. "What can you do to stop me? Why should I bother with the likes of you? You're thieves – murderers, too – why should I bother giving you a quick, painless execution..?"
A blue tint began to spread across Quackerjack's face. Gizmoduck relented his hold a little, and the toymaker gasped painfully, sucking in desperate mouthfuls of air.
"P-please, I h-have a final request-" said the toymaker through heaved breaths.
"Final request, my ass! Take that back, you moron!" shouted Megavolt, sounding distressed.
"Make it brief," said Gizmoduck coldly.
"T-take care of Banana B-brain for me."
"Who-"
The yellow doll hit the mechanical duck in the visors with a soft thud. It fell to the floor at Gizmoduck's wheel, its ridiculous grinning face facing blankly up towards the ceiling.
Gizmoduck's momentary confusion was all they needed.
"Pshooooo~," said Quackerjack, wriggling his twitching fingers rapidly, desperately like an illusionist. Then he curled his right hand into a fist.
An explosion rocked the room. Everything was thrown into a deep, blue-black haze. Megavolt was thrown back into a wall, and it was only his plug helmet that protected him from a very untimely concussion. He scrambled up to his feet, to call for Quackerjack, when he realized that the ground was moving. For a second, he thought that perhaps he did hit his head harder than he thought.
Then the tiled floor underneath cracked, and gave way.
He couldn't escape. With a terrified shout, he tumbled down with the debris to the floor below. And as he fell, he heard the echoes of Gizmoduck's enraged shout, followed by the unmistakable sound of open fire.
His blood froze in his veins.
oOoOoOoOoOo
Darkwing jerked back into consciousness. He was being jostled, rather roughly.
"Nooo, I did it-! I'm the one who caught them-!" he mumbled incoherently, fisted hands weakly beating against someone's...chest?
"Oh thank goodness, he's waking up!" said a very familiar voice close to his ear.
"It's that explosion from above! Move, move!" cried another much higher voice.
"DW, wake up! The building's gonna come down-!"
A slab of concrete fell a couple feet behind Launchpad in a cloud of dust. He gritted his teeth against the awful pain in the small of his back, and held Darkwing more securely in his arms. At his left, Donald was looking up at the cracking ceiling with wide eyes.
"Stay by the walls!" he said urgently. They heard gunfire.
Darkwing's eyes opened a crack. He saw a haze of gray, and Launchpad's tuft of bright red hair. Cracks like destroyed spiderwebs were rapidly extending across his vision from one side to the other and at first, he had no idea what was going on.
Then the cracks expanded, and much of the ceiling came tumbling down upon them.
The vigilante made an alarmed sound, and Launchpad plastered himself against the wall, hugging Darkwing to his chest protectively. The smell of blood filled the vigilante's nostrils, and his senses grew more alert. He became aware of the throbbing in his head, and the burning pain in his throat.
"What in - what's going on? How long was I out?"
A deep purple haze filled his vision, and suddenly he couldn't see anything, not the brown of Launchpad's attire, not even the end of his own beak.
"Ain't that..Quackerjack's bombs?" asked Launchpad.
They heard a shout of fear, and the thud of a body falling to the ground. Darkwing couldn't see who it was through the dust and smoke, and he wriggled free out of Launchpad's reluctant hold. He swayed for a moment on his feet, but quickly braced himself. He didn't feel right.
"Is that you, Megavolt?"
The person coughed harshly, and scrambling noises could be heard as the villain moved weakly amongst the wreckage. Darkwing made to pull the rat out from under a large slab of singed tile, but the world spun suddenly. He almost fell flat on his beak if it weren't for Launchpad pulling him back by the collar. He tripped over his own feet, and leaned heavily against his friend's arm.
"I think you have a concussion," said the pilot worriedly. "Darkwing, you gotta sit down-"
Megavolt managed to pull himself out from underneath the debris, and rose heavily to his feet. A trickle of blood was running down the side of his face. Gizmoduck landed suddenly only a few feet away, and the floor almost shuddered underneath his weight and momentum.
The mechanical duck's armor was burned and twisted in some parts, and a twisted knot of cablewire hung uselessly from one of the busted chest compartments. It may have been lost on the ducks in the room, but a rat's ears are his best friend.
Megavolt could hear the sound of corrosion on the surface of Gizmoduck's metal attire.
"I gotta hand it to you, gadget boy, you two are far more competent than your counterparts," said Gizmoduck with a hiss in his voice. "But you are no match for Gizmoduck. One down, one to go. Surrender now and I will show you mercy.."
"Over my dead batteries!" spat Megavolt, and made to pull his gun out of its holster, only to realize it wasn't where it should be – it had been lost amidst the destruction. Swearing, he pulled out a smaller gun from inside his vest. A small gun was better than none – he couldn't fight this battle with his hands – it wasted too much electricity.
"You're only prolonging the inevitable," said Gizmoduck in a mockingly soothing voice. "Your guns will not stop me – your friend's explosive didn't..and you don't wanna go the way he did, now."
Megavolt's finger froze on the trigger. He looked at the mechanical duck with wide eyes. "What're you talking about?"
GizmoDuck said nothing. A satisfied grin stretched wide across his beak.
"You bastard!" screamed Megavolt. A flurry of electric charges burst out of the small gun and shot straight towards GizmoDuck. The mechanical duck jerked backwards at the onslaught, and electricity charged through the suit. With difficulty, he managed to transform one arm into a rod, and rammed its point into the ground. The robotic suit shuddered with every impact, but never so much as lost its balance.
Darkwing could only watch helplessly as Megavolt continued his useless assault. The rat kept firing and firing, screaming obscenities – eyes full of rage – each time getting closer to hitting the neckbase, Gizmoduck's only vulnerable point. The robotic duck barely had to move to shield his throat.
Megavolt's gun sputtered, then went dead. The rods on the rat's head cackled and emitted blindingly blue charge, but the electricity would no longer course all the way to his limb. He pulled the triggers ferociously, but he had depleted his stored energy much too fast, much too haphazardly.
"You done?" said GizmoDuck, lifting a gloved hand with some effort, and calmly pulling out the touchy, now-useless cable that was causing him some pain. The electricity was still coursing through his suit, but in moments, thanks to the rod, he would be free to move again.
"You – you –" the rat's voice broke, and he sank to the ground, the gun lying useless in his lax hands.
"Get off your ass, you brainfry! Move it!" shouted Darkwing as Gizmoduck moved.
A large, black hand clamped down on the villain's head, and for a horrifying moment, Darkwing was certain GizmoDuck was going to twist the villain's neck like a bulb.
"You're not thinking straight," said GizmoDuck softly, mockingly. "Here. Let me help you."
"GizmoDuck don't-!" yelled Darkwing, but his voice was drowned out in Megavolt's ear-splitting scream. The rods and base and all had been wrenched off of his head in one brutal, merciless pull.
"I told you your nerves were shot," was GizmoDuck's sneering comment. Megavolt fell back to his knees howling, clutching his head in abject pain. Shots of stray electrical charge danced around his temples. Horror and revulsion found their nest in Darkwing's gut.
"You twisted jerk! Why are you doing this?!" yelled Darkwing, wrenching himself free of Launchpad's clutch. "I'll knock some sense into you, then throw you in a cell if it's the last thing I do!"
Gizmoduck tilted his head to look at the masked rival out the corner of his eyes. Darkwing was still holding out and standing, out of sheer willpower and stubbornness rather than strength. Gizmoduck almost felt a twinge of something resembling respect for this unknown mallard.
"In moments, I will have destroyed two super villains that have caused destruction in your world and this. What's your point?"
"You're torturing him!"
"I gave him a chance to surrender; he threw it away. He and his foolish accomplice tried to destroy me. No criminal attacks Gizmoduck without punishment. Anyone who will stop me..will be made an example to all, what happens to those who try to stop Gizmoduck from protecting the innocent."
"You're twisted," was all Launchpad could say. Donald gripped the pilot's arm and watched everything with wide, conflicted eyes. When Darkwing again made to run towards the mechanical duck, he pulled him back by his cape. The masked mallard nearly fell on him, and the sailor said urgently into his ear: "It's not worth it. I know you have different ideas on how to handle crime, but it's not worth it. You're hurt. Let Gizmoduck do his job."
Darkwing had half a mind to turn around and slap the passive duck like a middle-aged woman in a soap opera, but in the end all Donald got was a weak elbow in the ribs. The sailor 'oomf!'ed but kept his hold on Darkwing.
Gizmoduck turned again to the villain on the floor in front of him. Megavolt made one last, desperate attempt to zap his enemy using nothing but his hands. The charge he produced was feeble and unfocused, and the mechanical duck barely moved an inch. The rat – without his helmet and goggles – whose blue eyes seemed more alert and focused than Darkwing remembered seeing them for a long, long time, began to overflow with a bright sheen of tears.
"I win," said Gizmoduck triumphantly, with finality. Darkwing looked around the rubble wildly for something to fling at the psychopath.
"No, you don't~!" said a jeering voice. Megavolt's head snapped up and he looked wildly around at the source of the voice.
The ducks' heads soon followed towards the Quackershot. The toy vehicle – only slightly beat and dented by stray pieces of rubble, still stood stably on its wheels some feet away. Over its dash leaned Quackerjack with a mad grin on his face and a cannon in his hands.
Gizmoduck's beak dropped open. "That's impossible! I shot you down! Your body-!"
"Uh-uh-uuuh! Nee-ver trust what you see when you're up against an illuuu-sionist," said Quackerjack. "And I'm quite the esteemed toymaker where I come from, thank you very much! Robots, action figures, puppets, real-life size dolls..you name it!
Unassuming spectators are the best audience a performer like me could ask for. Only this time, you get a front seat ticket to your death scene," he said sweetly as he fired the canon, and Gizmoduck could not evade it.
He barely managed to lift his arms to shield his face as he received the full blast of acid. The first thing to disintegrate was the single wheel. He began to fall forward, and threw out his arms to steady himself. Megavolt scrambled away, and Quackerjack didn't give their nemesis a breath to retaliate. He fired again, striking him in the head.
GizmoDuck's helmet shattered into a hundred pieces, then began to melt in twisting, corroding metal. Acid finally found its way into the suit – and into contact with the flesh of its owner, through the neckbase.
Without the helmet, GizmoDuck no longer looked like the indestructible savior everyone believed him to be. It was so scarily easy to forget that GizmoDuck was a real person made of flesh and blood. The vulnerability of the man wearing it was suddenly and horrifyingly real. Darkwing's stomach roiled at the sight of the young duck's face. He was young, even younger than himself. He couldn't place the face, but something in the back of his mind screamed at him that he knew this duck.
Launchpad uttered a choked noise behind him, and the grip on his cape left altogether. "No, no, no.."
Darkwing's mind was hit by a derailed train the moment he placed the face. The rock he'd picked up in desperation slipped from his shaking fingers and fell back to the filthy ground.
"You win," hissed the dying Fenton Crackshell.
But even as he lay dying, a horrifying, smoking mass of acidic sludge, NegaFenton did not utter a single moan. His rapid, swallowing breaths were all that could be heard. Darkwing's heart rammed in his throat, and he had to look away after only a moment. He could feel Launchpad shuddering against his shoulder. The sailor was weeping his hero in despair.
Quackerjack revved his vehicle, and pulled an astounded Megavolt off the floor and into the passenger's seat as he did a wide circle and tore for the money bin's destroyed doors. The Quackershot's engines soon became distant, and as the villains escaped with their lives, one could almost hear the sound of a slap, and the rat's voice shrieking: "Don't you ever scare me like that again!"
After an eternity, and yet no time at all, Darkwing could no longer even hear the fallen NegaFenton's breaths.
oOoOoOoOoOo
Gosalyn hated to admit it, but she was beginning to get scared.
It was often that her dad got home later than intended, and she understood that time wasn't a factor he could control in his line of work, but it wasn't usual that he didn't even send a message home for nearly three days.
It was after one a.m, but she wasn't the least bit tired. She flipped over on her stomach, and began a new level on Whiffle Boy. She finished it with practiced ease, and went on the the next level, then the next.
Playing your favorite videogame was not fun when a nasty voice inside your head kept asking if your dad's dead.
She shot back upright and messed her hair with a frustrated growl. "Will ya stop thinking stupid things!"
But when she heard a sound at the front door, she had flown off the couch and wrenched it open all in under 3 seconds. "What the heck you've been?" she cried, bright green eyes blazing with worry and anger. "Not a single message, Dad?! Do you know how worried I've been..?"
She trailed off at the absolute filthy mess her father was. She almost felt a ridiculous urge to cry. She threw himself into his arms, and smelled dirt, gunpowder, and blood. He embraced her fiercely, and she felt Launchpad give her a pat on the head as he urgently strode past the father and daughter into the house.
Darkwing picked up the duckling and walked behind his partner into the living room. The pilot was at the phone, and Gosalyn could see the anxious way his hand tightened on the device. "Launchpad..?"
"..it's not connecting," said Launchpad, sounding like he was having difficulty breathing.
"Did you try McDuck?" asked the mallard, but Launchpad was already dialing rapidly. He waited for a few moments, and then: "Duckworth! It's Launchpad! Look, I don't have much time! Get Mr. McD on the phone -! He's – he's abroad?" panic began to bloom on the pilot's face. "Is Gizmoduck with him by any chance..he is? Look, I've been tryin' to call him about something really important and I haven't been able to reach him at all. If you can reach him or Mr. McD, tell them to call me on this number right away! Tell them it's an emergency! No, that's dangerous stuff, I'll need to talk to either of them in person! Yeah…yeah, I know," tears began to run down Launchpad's face, and Gosalyn pulled out of her father's arms and ran to her friend with wide, confused eyes. Why was Launchpad crying?
"Thanks, Duckworth. Bye."
"What happened to you two? Is someone hurt? You two look like you've seen death twice and came back again. Launchpad, what's wrong?"
"It's a long story, kiddo, and no, you won't be hearing it anytime soon," Darkwing said adamantly to his daughter's indignant expression. "What's important is that we're all safe now. And you and I need a long bath. You go get the tub ready, honey."
Gosalyn, for once in her life, did not talk back to her father. There was nothing to talk back to – his dark green eyes were dull with pain, and Launchpad looked like he was a hair's breadth from a breakdown.
"..Okay. Fine, I'll go get things ready," she said in a small voice. She hated not knowing what was going on.
As she turned into the hallway, she heard her father. "Do you wanna go to Duckburg, Launchpad?"
"What's the point? They're both out of the country."
"Hey..at least you know they're both safe," her father said with surprising gentleness in his voice.
"..Yeah. Yeah, you're right," she heard the pilot say quietly. "I was just..I was out of my head with worry, Drake. It took us over two days to get back here and all the time I'm thinking now that Quackerjack knows how to destroy the Gizmo suit I may be too late and –"
"I'm sorry," said Darkwing.
"For what..?"
"Because I wouldn't come home before I found out what happened to the Friendly Four..and Gosalyn."
Gosalyn tilted her head, more confused than ever, and leaned against the wall more closely.
"It must've been really hard for you, not being able to get in contact with your friend and boss for two days after that nightmare," said the vigilante. "And I was too obsessed with my own fears to validate how you felt about the whole thing. I needed to see for myself if he really killed those guys. Now I know he must've been lying, but I took too long and I still couldn't find them, and all through it you were in so much pain. I'm really sorry, Launchpad."
Launchpad was silent for a few moments, then said: "Well...we're both a bit more at peace now, so that's a good start, right..?" then he added. "I forgive you, DW. You know I always do."
"You know you and Gos are everything to me, right?"
Gosalyn left her hiding spot with a content smile on her beak and a lot of hope in her little heart.
oOoOoOoOoOo
A young duck sat on old, worn tribal robes laid for him and his boss underneath a fraying gray tent.
The tribe medic of Gugururu, an old dog with only three teeth but hundreds of wrinkles on her ancient face, poked her head through the flap and smiled at Fenton. She spoke slowly and haltingly, in words he couldn't understand
God, I wish Mr. McDuck would wake up!
but the sentiment was clear - did he need anything?
He smiled, very forcefully, at her, and shook his head and placed a hand on his heart – the way people said thank you in that isolated world. She nodded her head and pulled back out. Fenton let the smile slip off his face.
They were lost, so very lost deep within the valleys of the Andes. Fenton never felt so small in all his life.
He was alone in a place he didn't know amongst tribespeople whose language he didn't speak.
The Gizmo suit had been destroyed.
Scrooge McDuck lay by him in a coma.
Fenton looked up through the open patch in their decaying tent. The moon was a soft, thin crescent on the sky's black canvas, and stars dotted it all around. It was a beautiful, but terrifying infinity. Something he could never count.
The days were blurring together in his mind. He thought they've been lost in this valley for twenty days by the way the particular 1,501 stars he'd managed to keep track of moved across the heavens, but he wasn't sure anymore, and it terrified him.
He remembered his mother, and his girlfriend. He remembered the little Ducks and Launchpad. He remembered Darkwing, and the Justice Ducks, and wondered if he would ever see them again. His throat burned, and tears blurred his vision.
Time passed like an eternity, then one evening, Scrooge began to show signs of life.
As he struggled to grasp consciousness, he heard a load of familiar blathering. Of course – must be Fenton, being his usual daft self. What else did he expect himself to wake up to?
Not a single word of all his accountant's excited garbling registered in his foggy, disoriented mind, but the first thing his eyes saw when he finally opened them were the rivers running down Fenton's face. He didn't understand. If his brain wasn't so muddled, he would've rolled his eyes and growled at the heavens at the inconvenience of it all, and then demanded of the young duck what was wrong as if it was all a huge waste of time to him.
But in the end, he only sat there, blinking away the heavy, heavy blanket of sleep as Fenton threw his arms around him and cried in relief. It was a cold night, but it was the tolerable kind.
Fin
oOoOoOoOoOo
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. I'm practicing the art of writing a short story, where the rules are a bit different, and much is left to the imagination. This was originally going to be much shorter, but it is now hilariously at 28 freaking pages because it kept going its own way. Please review, and shoot me your questions and headcanons! They are more than welcome! The cover image is fanart by the amazing soft-h on deviantART.