Title: Tipping Point
Summary: We follow the downfall of Darkwing Duck and the rise of Darkwarrior. Gosalyn is gone and Darkwing blames himself for it. Launchpad tries to get the hero back on his feet without any success. And even Negaduck knows that somewhere, something went wrong, forcing the villain to make the mistake that will cost him his minions, his empire and eventually his life.
Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort
Disclaimer: Still down't own.
Rating and Warning: T for violence. Some blood. Swearing maybe. I'll try to keep it as canon as possible, but… yeah…
A/N: Changed the summary and the genre a bit. This plotbunny bit me, so here we go.
000
"…with the number of reported incidents going up by as much as twenty percent in the last month. According to Chief Deputy Smallmausen, not even the doubling of police forces patrolling the streets have made any impact. So far the situation only seems to be getting worse as…"
The reporter continues with her report on the skyrocketing crime rates of St. Canard. Seated on the couch and glued to the television sits Launchpad, the ever loyal sidekick of the greatest hero this city has ever seen. With his eyes wide and breathing a little shallow, he sits staring with his hands in his lap. Only when the reporter finishes with her numbers and the screen changes to an interview with Smallmausen, a large grey mouse in a brown suit, does he take a deeper breath.
So far the situation in the city is getting out of hand. It seems that not only Negaduck has gotten more volatile, which didn't seem possible until a few weeks ago but all the scum in the city has crawled out of their hiding places and is running amok.
On the television Smallmausen is elaborating on the set curfew. After ten people are advised to stay in their homes because of the violence in the streets. Gang wars have started among the smaller groups in St. Canard. An execution happens at least once a day. The number of drive-by's has increased to twice a week. And not to forget last weekend. A full out fight between two small gangs trying to make a name for themselves had taken place in the harbor. Thirty-four people had been killed and thirteen hospitalized. It had weakened both groups considerably. Nothing much has been done about it from both the authorities or other gangs.
Let the weak fight it out between themselves.
"…seems as though he is getting stronger. Any thoughts on this?"
"Well, even though we do not know much about him, it seems he has been getting more adapt at manipulating plants. Although we have never seen Bushroot act out as much as he has in the past. It could be because Negaduck is enforcing this, but we cannot be certain at this point."
Launchpad releases another deep sigh. It seems that the Fearsome Four, or at least Bushroot and Liquidator, have been growing in power the same way Negaduck has. Although Darkwing's evil counterpart doesn't have special powers like the other two, his violent and destructive tendencies have taken a turn for the worse. If the pilot were to believe what he can gather from the news and J. Gander, it seems Negaduck has been unofficially crowned the king of the underworld.
"…a danger to society. Many believe he has even killed his two closest associates, Megavolt and Quackerjack, as they have not been seen for a good five months. We would not put it past him. Any thoughts on…"
Has it really been so long?
He shakes his head slowly. It seems all too unreal that it has been five months since Gosalyn disappeared. Five months since their whole world was turned inside out and upside down.
Even though his memory might be a bit scattered every now and then when it comes to remembering certain dates or events, the ever loyal sidekick remembers that night all too vividly.
He remembers searching for the two crooks, who had seemed to have sort of vanished from the rooftop. There had been nothing left of their newest doomsday machine. He had shared his surprise with the hero, they had exchanged a few words and while Darkwing had double checked the rooftop of that building and the surrounding buildings, Launchpad had checked the building itself. He hadn't found a trace of Megavolt, but he did stumble upon a lone and forgotten pair of fake teeth.
Though if they belonged to Quackerjack or not he doesn't know.
They had a rendezvous at the Ratcatcher. Had Launchpad known that he would see his whole world collapse in front of him then and there he would have stayed in bed that morning.
He remembers the almost wild look in the hero's eyes. The croaked out calling of her name. How his back had gone rigid and his shoulders had raised.
"Gosalyn…? Honey!?" The tremor in Darkwing's voice had sent a shiver down the pilot's spine.
They almost had an argument over their next course of action. But then both realized they were wasting precious time and had quickly gone in different directions in search of Gosalyn.
The first hour had gone by in a breath. Both had searched the streets first, going in different directions to cover as much as they could with just the two of them. It had only been half an hour since Darkwing had send Gosalyn to the Ratcatcher, and another half they had spend searching for the villains. She could not have gone far.
After having done his bit, with a racing heart and blood pounding in his ears Launchpad had ended up next to the bike once more. He had taken his time to calm down and think. Even though thinking was not his forte, it had helped calm down his blood pressure. Darkwing returned a few minutes later.
Laying eyes upon the hero had stopped the breath in his throat.
After being Darkwing's sidekick and best friend for a year and a half now, Launchpad had seen the hero's many moods and emotions. He had seen Darkwing scared, angry, bewildered and confused, but the emotion he had displayed that night, the sheer panic in those blue eyes, both too wide in slowly growing terror as the minutes without Gosalyn ticked by was something he had never wanted to experience.
"There is a tracking device in one of her shoes." Darkwing's voice had been carrying the first signs of a breakdown, but he kept his head high. "I can activate them from the tower. They aren't very accurate but it should at least give us a general idea of where she is."
The hero had taken his fedora off with a little more force then was needed and stood fumbling next to the Ratcatcher. His shoulders were still raised in tension and his back straight, his hands trembling slightly.
Launchpad couldn't take the sight of it.
He had grabbed the smaller duck by the shoulders, turning him so they stood face to face. Launchpad had looked him straight in those baby blues, making sure his friend knew he wasn't alone in this. "We're gonna find her." The pilot promised. "She'll turn up before you know it. Then you will ground her until she is your age, and then we're gonna invite the Muddlefoots and hold a Pelican Island marathon with our dinner plates on our laps." He had seen it, then, the tiniest of smiles growing on the other duck's beak and the light somewhat returning to his eyes.
"I hate Pelican Island…"
"I know you do."
"So much…"
"Season three is the best. We're gonna run that one first."
It would be the last time he would see Darkwing crack a true, wide, happy smile.
"You take the Ratcatcher, I'll go to the tower on foot. Maybe Gosalyn has gone there." They had both turned their heads down the street. It would take Launchpad a little over an hour to get to the tower on foot and that would be if he would take his time. He had made a promise to hurry as fast as he could so they would be reunited as soon as possible.
Darkwing hadn't voiced it but the look of undying gratitude in his eyes had told the sidekick more then when the hero would say it with words. Launchpad had felt his heart flutter with excitement at that look and at the prospect of having their family reunited once again. He has always been an optimistic guy, and he knew, was absolutely certain, that they would find the little duckling before dawn.
Launchpad was already planning what chips they could serve during the marathon as the other duck turned his bike and sped down the road.
That undying optimism took a heavy blow when Darkwing called forty minutes later.
The tracking device only picked up on Gosalyn's shoes in the tower and at their house on Avian Way. No trace of it in the city. "I'm going to the Muddlefoots. Maybe she's there."
"Make sure you change first!" It had been pure instinct on Launchpad's part. There was a short silence on the phone, followed by a muttered curse that pulled at the corners of the pilot's beak.
"I ah… I know that…"
No matter how shortsighted Herb was or how simple Binky could be, bless their big hearts, having one Darkwing Duck show up at their doorstep at two in the night asking them where Gosalyn was, with the fatherly terror that the hero was having a hard time hiding shining in his eyes, well… They would put two and two together surely.
But Drake had called in as soon as Launchpad had entered the tower another thirty minutes later. No sign of Gosalyn. He had also called the police, expertly twisting the story. While he had to wait for them to come to the house Drake had rung the bell at all of the houses surrounding their home. Though he was greeted by furious, half asleep neighbors their anger had melted for the single dad whose little girl had gone missing. There had been well wishes and promises to keep an eye out galore.
No Gosalyn.
No sleep that day either as the hero had searched various keypoints in the city. He had visited her school, the homes of her friends, several sports fields and even her favorite playground. And at the end of the day, as the sun had set not moments before had he changed to Darkwing Duck without a single thought turned to his own wellbeing. Launchpad could have protested and pleaded as much as he wanted, he would not get his friend to lie down, not even for an hour.
Launchpad suppresses a shudder.
Because as soon as Darkwing had readied himself to leave, a livid Morgana had entered the tower.
Up until that moment the pilot had only been a little intimidated by her but then, as she came thundering in he had been truly afraid of her. Never had he been so scared of her throwing down her magic as much as he had then. And never had he been so awestruck by the downright icy composure of Darkwing. The hero would always cower if she got angry, but the stony indifference to her rage had been nothing short of admirable.
As it turns out it they had been planning a date the night before. It would have started as soon as Darkwing had done his rounds of the city that evening. He would be with her at two, they would sit and chat and eat and gaze into each other's eyes, and then he would leave again at sunrise.
It had happened before that evil had taken all of the hero's time and Morgana basically got stood up, but Darkwing would always call her as soon as he got the chance to apologize. Sometimes, when the sun had yet to rise he would go to her house no matter how beat up he sometimes got. With his tail between his legs and his hat in hand he would personally ask for her pardon, and Morgana would always welcome him with open arms, a kiss on his head and some salve and bandages for his injuries.
Morgana always forgave him for not showing up.
Simply because she was very aware of the hard life of a hero and how criminals never really cared to plan a date and time when they would go on their next heist.
But Darkwing could have called with a simple "I'm sorry" and everything would have been fine.
But he hadn't.
And Morgana does not take very kindly to being ignored. What made the situation worse was the way the hero had reacted to her well deserved and well aimed fury. He had brushed her off, practically dismissed the witch, simply breezed passed her on his way to the Ratcatcher. The stress and lack of rest had Darkwing not thinking straight anymore, who had already been running on reserves after being awake for a little over thirty six hours. The purple clad duck would have made for a very big stain on the floor and the walls and maybe even the ceiling if Launchpad hadn't intervened.
With that, Morgana's rage had disappeared in a breath and had made place for worry and understanding. She had kissed Darkwing on the head and soothed him, because he had been getting angry at her for keeping him from leaving.
With a smile she had offered her services and with a scowl she had reprimanded the two ducks for not thinking of her sooner. With the right spell she could locate Gosalyn within an hour. Darkwing had gaped at her in disbelief for a few long moments before nearly flinging into her, telling her he was an idiot, that she was amazing, and he was sorry for not thinking of her.
Morgana had told him yes you are, yes I know, and you are forgiven.
Launchpad had been hanging off to the side for the time it took Morgana to prepare the spell. All she had needed was something that belonged to Gosalyn. The way Darkwing's eyes had lit up had burned in the pilot's retinas. It was a sight he never wanted to forget.
And it was a sight he still desperately clings to.
Gosalyn's favorite hockystick was the best choice. Hero and sidekick stood by and watched the witch chant once, twice, and then three times.
Not because she needed to repeat the spell in order for it to work.
But because Gosalyn was nowhere.
Just…
…nowhere.
Gosalyn had disappeared to a place where not even Morgana's magic could reach her. She had vanished from the face of the planet.
Five months down and still no sign of her.
There had been a time when they all thought she had been kidnapped. Maybe even by the diabolical besties Megavolt and Quackerjack, but they would have sent for a ransom. They would have wanted something.
They would have let Darkwing know they had the girl and wanted money, or him in exchange, or anything.
But nothing.
"…which leads us all to wonder, where is Darkwing Duck?"
Not even the Chief Deputy has an answer. His big grey ears, which already had been lowered in distress, flatten even more and he visibly deflates.
Launchpad subconsciously does the same.
These five months have been nothing short of a roller coaster. His own optimism has trickled down with each passing day. In the first weeks of Gosalyn's disappearance he had high hopes every time they walked out the door. That they would find her, save her if needed, bring her home and make everything right again.
It became harder and harder to keep smiling as the first month had passed without so much as a feather of the little troublemaker. Launchpad had tried to keep as level headed as possible, but a distraught Darkwing made that very difficult.
What makes things so much worse is that it was Launchpad who would always look at the hero for guidance. Darkwing was his beacon in the fog which made it that much worse because, when Drake needed him in his time of need, Launchpad was failing miserably. His endless optimism may have gotten them far but just a smile and a few encouraging words are not enough to soothe the anguish the hero must be going through right now.
Not the physical pain, no thanks to Negaduck, but the emotional distress that haunts the hero like a shadow.
It had been easy to fall back in his old mannerisms and be all encouragement and positivity. Darkwing needed that from the pilot, and even though Launchpad rarely got a fake smile in return there had been gratitude in the hero's eyes.
But after every failed search mission it became harder. Every time they would return, or Darkwing would when he ventured out alone, the shadow in the hero's eyes became a little darker, the pain a little more prominent.
And the desperation a little more severe.
The hero's mental breakdown on that rooftop two weeks ago was the dam breaking, but there had been severe cracks in the concrete in the weeks leading up to that debacle.
They had been in the form of sleepless nights as Darkwing, or days as Drake as he had desperately searched for any clue that would lead him in the direction of Gosalyn. It had been in the cries he uttered and the tears he shed as he woke from a disturbed sleep. They had been in the shape of desperate glances Darkwing would throw at Launchpad, searching for even a shred of hope to boost his own shattered spirits.
It had been in the form of his endless haunting of the few places the little girl called hers. Be it her cot in the tower, or worse, her bedroom upstairs. In the first week the whole room had been upturned making it look like an even bigger war zone then when Gosalyn had still been around. Drake had searched it from top to bottom for anything that could have led to her whereabouts. When nothing had come up he had taken it upon himself to tidy up and clean for her. A hurricane couldn't have done a better job then he had at the end of that first week so, feeling horrendously guilty because the hero himself is a little OCD, he had cleaned it without complaints.
It may even have been therapeutic.
May have been, but not really.
Because Drake went back way more often that had been appropriate. In the beginning, as Launchpad had begun to pick up on Drake's aimless wandering into her room, cleaning little nicknacks or putting this or that away. He would linger for sometimes hours if Launchpad didn't catch him and send him off to bed, or ushered him to get ready because they were planning on going out.
And each time Launchpad ushered Drake out of her bedroom the hero would look a little more lost and a lot more guild stricken.
Not even Morgana, who has been doing her best to be a rock in the current, has been able to do more then be there and assist whenever Darkwing needs it.
"For all we know he could be dead." The reporter on screen draws Launchpad out of his thoughts and back to the present. He follows the two people on screen bicker over what evidence there may have been that would lead them to Darkwing's body. So far the hero is still alive.
Alive. Not well.
The pilot doesn't really know what exactly happened on that rooftop that fateful night, and Darkwing hasn't been very lucid lately so the half baked story the hero told him seems to only be part true. Not because the other duck would willingly lie to Launchpad but because he took quite a few blows to the head, curtesy of one Negaduck. And the pain medication S. H. U. S. H. had provided is addling his already cooked brain even more.
Right now Drake is upstairs, finally asleep it seems because there is a soft sound coming from somewhere behind Launchpad. The enchantress slowly descends the staircase, gliding into the living room and taking a seat next to the pilot. She releases a deep breath, not a good sign. "He's not doing well… it's like his mind is everywhere…" She speaks softly, her eyes falling on the cast around Launchpad's leg.
"Yeah that's the painkillers. He will get better when he doesn't need them anymore."
"The city is a mess." Morgana stares at the television and tries to make sense of the numbers on the screen. Most of it seems like gibberish to her but she does know that everything is falling apart. "I never knew Dark made such a huge impact on crime." A small smile graces her lips. Something in her chest flutters at the thought of her handsome gothic knight having so much power in the palm of his hand. "I am so proud."
Launchpad shrugs, his body shaking with bubbling laughter. "Me too. I'm honored to be his sidekick."
A pleasant silence falls over them as both return to their thoughts. Fond memories of a better time, of much easier days. Where it was just them, just Darkwing being the hero, Launchpad the even helpful sidekick, Morgana the love of the hero's life and little Gosalyn in their midst as the small beacon of hope, the glue that holds the three of them from falling apart. Their moment of peace is short lived as those same lovely memories turn towards the gloomy present. Morgana presses her beak tightly shut before uttering her hopelessness. "I wish I could do more…"
"Don't you worry about it. DW knows we're here for him. He will get well real soon."
"I hope you're right. There's just…"
After a long silence between them she finally speaks up again. "He scares me…" The witch admits, eyes falling on her hands in her lap. She begins to fidget, seemingly unsure how to continue. The pilot next to her gives her a puzzling stare but doesn't say anything. It's best to let Morgana elaborate on her own terms.
It taker her longer then he expected.
"There is something in his eyes. I can tell he struggles with himself. He misses Gosalyn so much it is physically affecting him. But there's…" The pause in her words and the tremble in her voice have Launchpad sitting on the edge of his seat. So to speak. "…Something is struggling to break free…"
"It's probably the old DW. Crimefighting has been his life for such a long time and all. He must be itching to get back to being a hero." A short pause. Even Launchpad knows his theory is warped. "You know, beneath all of that… well that."
They fall in an awkward silence as the woman on the T.V keeps rambling. "…when the city needs him now, more then ever." Her final words seem to pull the sound out of the room. Even though the news show cuts to commercials everything seems to fall deathly silent.
There is no need to share words between them. Even though Morgana and Launchpad aren't bestest of friends who know each other's darkest fears, deepest hopes and long wished dreams, they both know without speaking their minds, that there is something.
"It's dangerous…" Launchpad speaks out loud what Morgana was thinking.
The glue that has been holding them together is gone.
And dangerous is an understatement.
000
Next chapter will be from Darkwing's pov. We might even see the first tendrils of Darkwarrior seep through :3 Thanks everyone for the love!