Chapter 2: The Visitor
"Drake..." a voice whispered.
"What?" he mumbled through his pillow.
"Drrrake..."
"What!?" Drake snapped.
"Come..." the disconnected whisper came again.
"Uh, excuse me," the duck replied sarcastically. "But I'm kind of in the middle of sleeping, so if you don't mind: BEAT IT, Buster!" The only answer he got was silence. Drake sighed. "Great. Now I'm arguing with an empty room. I've gotta get some shuteye before I go stir-crazy."
As soon as his head hit the pillow the voice started again. "Drake..." It sounded like it was right next to him now. Drake blearily peeked through an eyelid and shot up out of the covers, scrambling to the other side of his bed. There was a man in his room! A duck with a flowing silver beard and robe.
"ACK! How'd you get in here? What do you want? I'm warning you, you chose the wrong duck to mess with!" Drake hopped on top of his bed and got into a defensive pose.
"Please, Mr. Mallard. There is no need to be upset." The duck calmly held up a hand. "All of your questions will be answered in time."
"Look, Bub!" Drake warned impatiently, raising his hands defensively. "I don't know who you're working for or how you got up here, but one thing's for certain: you're about to do some star-gazing! Heee-yah!" He launched a webkick straight for the duck's torso.
The duck sighed and rolled his eyes. Just mere inches from impact, the duck suddenly floated up in the air. Drake went flying underneath him.
"Huh? Yu-oh..." Drake gulped as he realized he'd shot right over the edge of the rafter. "YAAAHHH!"
He plummeted several stories before his fall was cut short. He looked up and saw his 'visitor' holding him by the leg. The strange duck had an ethereal glow about him. Drake gulped. He was starting to think it would have been better smashing his head into the floor.
The floating, glowing duck lowered him the rest of the way and let go just a foot above the floor. Drake fell on his chin with a WHUMP.
"I was warned to expect a drastic reaction..." the duck said humorlessly.
Drake sat up and glared at the stranger. "Who are you working for? What does he want with me?"
"Oh, nothing along the lines of what you're thinking. You have been given a gift, Sir," the duck said graciously, offering Drake a hand up. Drake pulled away from him and stood on his own. The stranger settled on his own feet and explained. "You may call me Jacob, and... Well, you might call my visit a vision of some sorts. When you've seen all that you're meant to see, you will only remember bits and pieces, but this is every bit as real as crime fighting."
Drake shook his head and held up his hands. "Wait! Back up the train a bit. What do you mean by seeing all I'm 'meant to see'? All I see is some wrinkly old geezer in a dress!"
"A 'dress'!" Jacob stammered incredulously. "This was the height of fashion back in the first century! If you don't like it, I'll change to something more...modern." With that, he snapped his fingers and his beard and robe were replaced by a suave dark blue suit and tie, complete with polished shoes and sunglasses. Drake did a double take at the outfit - he had a suit just like that. (From the episode "Easy Comes, Easy Grows.") Jacob arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms in front of him. "Well?" he asked in a younger voice. "What do you think now? Do I meet your approval?"
"Wh...? No! I mean, yes, but how'd you...? What kind of apparition are you, anyway?" Drake stammered.
"Hehe. One who can do more than a few parlor tricks." Jacob smirked and opened his hands like a book. The tower walls parted like a curtain and disappeared.
Drake found himself on top of Canard Tower, peering down at the streets far below. He scrambled back with an alarmed squeak, automatically latching onto the closest thing to him: Jacob.
Jacob smiled kindly and placed a warm hand on his shoulder. "Don't be afraid, Drake."
Drake scoffed and pushed himself upright. "Pah! Me? Afraid? You're talking to a single parent with a heck of a night job, Mister!"
The man rolled his eyes with a sigh. "Darkwing..."
Drake was still rattling on. "I've got nerves of steel. A mind like iron. Reflexes like..." He jumped back and pointed an accusing finger. "Hey! How did you know my name?"
Jacob gestured to his own face.
Drake reached up and felt his mask. "Oh," was his automatic response. Then a thought occurred to him. He was still in costume, but this guy had been calling him 'Drake'... Oh no! His identity had been compromised! "Hey! How do you know me?! Who's your informant?! What do you want?!"
Jacob sighed again and shook his head. "It's alright. Your identity is safe. I've known you since before you hatched. I'm your guardian."
"My—," Darkwing sputtered in amazement. "My...my guardian?" He pondered this for a second as he leerily peeked over the edge of the building again. A cold wind kicked up, blowing a flurry of snow in his face. He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered.
Jacob smiled gently and wrapped a blanket around Darkwing's shoulders, his own body heat melting the snow on Darkwing's beak. Darkwing considered this for a moment, then he recalled the other things Jacob had done prior to bringing him here and started to piece things together. "Are...?" he gulped. "Are you telling me you're...an angel...?"
"I suppose you could say that," the duck shrugged. He sprouted a pair of broad, feathered wings from his back and slowly morphed into a leopard. "It's not an entirely accurate term, as there are cherubim, seraphim, archangels..."
"Okay, enough already!" Darkwing waved his hand at the...'thing' hovering in front of him. Jacob turned back into the much less bewildering form of a duck in a suit. Or was he a goose now? His neck seemed a bit longer and his bill a bit rounder. Never mind! Darkwing ran a hand down his face. "Just... Just tell me what you're here for and get on with it."
"As you wish, Mr. Mallard." Jacob smiled mysteriously and waved his hand again.
The floor suddenly dropped out from under him, sending Darkwing plummeting toward the street below. Darkwing pulled himself together and started looking for anything he might grab onto to stop his fall. Jacob materialized next to him, clasping his arm and settling him on something like a wispy cloud. "Oh, I'm sorry about that," the avian apologized with a slight smirk. "I promise I won't do that again."
"Gee..." Darkwing gasped sarcastically. "How thoughtful..." Shaking his head, Darkwing knelt and touched the cloud. He could see through it, yet somehow the foggy vapors were enough to support him. He experimentally tried jumping on it and squeaked as his feet passed through it.
Jacob stepped onto the cloud and pulled Darkwing back onto his feet. "I suggest you refrain from further jumping."
"Agreed..." Darkwing gulped. Self-consciously straightening his shirt, Darkwing noticed he had somehow acquired the rest of his costume, including his various gadgets. Feeling emboldened by the presence of his gas gun, Darkwing straightened and faced his 'guardian' irately. "Look, Pal. I don't know what you're up to, but..." He broke off as he noticed the cloud had dissipated, leaving him standing on the sidewalk in front of a familiar building. One he hadn't seen since... "Wait a minute... This is the old Royal Records store! Home of the biggest record player in the world!" He clasped his hands fondly. "Heh, and to think, this is where I stopped my first crime."
He was distracted as he saw the Hessley brothers, 'the King' and Lamont, bag a gold record. He blinked in confusion before spouting off again. "Hey! What's going on here? Where am I?"
"At Royal Records..." Jacob smirked as he rolled the word 'Royal' on his tongue. At least he still looked like Jacob, only now he was wearing a wavy black wig with side burns and a high-collared white sequined jacket and pants.
Darkwing scowled before replying. "Thanks for restating the obvious. I wasn't asking 'where am I?' I meant, where are the others? Drakey, Gosalyn, and me! We should be arriving at the scene at any moment now..."
"Just watch..." Jacob replied, holding a finger to his lips. Only now he looked more like a golden-furred fox than an avian.
"No!" Darkwing protested after craning around to look for his past selves. "I'm not going to sit by and idly watch a robbery in progress! I saw what that bald bozo can do! If Hessley isn't stopped now, he could run all of St. Canard!"
"I know..." the fox looked a little dewy-eyed.
Darkwing ignored his companion's expression and raised his voice and his arms. "Ohh, that's right. You know 'everything' about me! Well you ought to know by now that saying 'no' to Darkwing Duck is just as effective as saying 'Whoa' to a bucking bronco!"
With that, Darkwing stormed determinedly up to the store. He reached for the door handle...and passed right through it? "What the...?" He paused and patted himself down before looking accusingly back at his guide. "Don't tell me I'm a ghost again!"
"'Again'?" the fox raised an eyebrow.
"That wasn't you?" he asked warily. "Then what the heck happened to me when I had that concussion from flying into a brick wall?"
"I'm sorry, but I'm only given information pertinent to my job. Whatever happened in the past was on someone else's shift." Jacob frowned apologetically.
"Wait just a durn second! I thought you said you've been my guardian since I hatched!" Darkwing jabbed an accusing finger into the fox's chest. "What were you doing when I nearly died that time?! Playing the harp?!"
"I..." Jacob looked distinctly uncomfortable. He stepped back and shrank into a short wizened turtle. He drew his head into his shell. "You wouldn't understand..."
"Don't give me that! I—what the!" Darkwing broke off as Jacob sprouted a pair of wings and flapped away, still withdrawn in his shell. "Hey! Get back here! I'm not done yelling at you yet!" The turtle made no attempt to slow his ascent. "Great. Just perfect! Now what am I supposed to do?" Darkwing muttered as he turned his attention back to the events unfolding at Royal Records.
The Hessley gang was still busily filling their sacks with stolen goods. Darkwing tried firing his gas gun at them, but the canister passed right through the king's hair without mussing a single strand.
Darkwing sighed. "Guess gas guns haven't been invented yet... So what am I supposed to learn here exactly?"
He leaned against the door frame and fell through it. Shaking his head, he sat up and looked around. The scene had changed. At least, he thought it had. Looking again, he saw that it was still Royal Records but the coloring was off. Everything was black instead of white and the records hanging on the walls were different. Darkwing walked over to investigate and saw the Hessley brothers pictured on an album cover, only they looked older than they had previously.
Darkwing shrugged. "So what? They've made a few albums. Big deal." He turned around and his jaw dropped.
Outside the record store was a big statue of the elder Hessley wearing a crown. As he gawked, the gang pulled up in a limo and unrolled a red carpet out for the king to step onto. The gang walked up to a clerk Darkwing hadn't noticed until now and antagonized him about record sales. The poor fox protested that nobody could afford to pay $50 each for the king's records. Darkwing rolled up his sleeves and minced toward the gang, taking several swings at them. His fists passed through the thugs' heads. He grunted and stalked off in frustration.
"What's the point...? The Hessleys haven't caused any trouble since I busted them way back in... Hoo, boy..." his voice dropped in pitch. "Since I...I mean, Drakey used my gas gun to shoot bubble gum so that I could save the day... O-kayyy. I get it now. This is like that Dickens story with the ghosts of Christmas past and present and future." He put his hands on his hips and looked around. "So where's Tiny Tim? And who's Ebenezer? I certainly have nothing in common with that old humbug... Hey wait a minute! Christmas is over! What's this about?!"
Unfortunately, Darkwing was about to get an answer. Something exploded not too far away. Darkwing and the Hessley gang all rushed outside and saw smoke rising from a street several blocks away.
Darkwing jogged to the source of the noise and smoke and gasped. A familiar airship was rising in the sky. Darkwing could hardly believe it! Taurus Bulba had just broken out of prison! Again! But where was...? Oh no! Gosalyn!
Darkwing started to run to the orphanage when another explosion rocked the street. He followed the smoke back to Royal Records and saw that the Hessley's car had been destroyed, taking with it the record store itself and all the occupants. And walking away from it, laughing, were three familiar figures.
"That showed him who's boss, huh?" a short, curly horned ram asked a horse and a goat.
"Yeah," the goat replied. "That's the last time that joik will cross Mr. Bulba. Now we'd better get going or the Boss with have our heads!"
Darkwing gulped and reluctantly followed Hammerhead, Hoof, and Mouth up to the roof of Canard Tower.
