A/N: Just as much as the idea of a hospital doesn't occur to Bushroot, he also doesn't question too many of Darkwing's motives.

Flash, Water and Fire

After Darkwing left it turned into an uneventful day; filled with memories of Wisteria. Constantly running through Reginald's mind were the thousand ways that their relationship had been wrong, and the thousand things that might have caused it to go wrong.

The sun had set and nightlife begun, but Reginald couldn't sleep. He needed to get out of the greenhouse. He went to the kitchenette and put on his coat from the stand. He took out a few notes from the drawer. Darkwing had walked out with no intention of locking him up. That meant it must have been a bit of time since the last robbery. Reginald pulled the drawer out a bit further. No, he still had enough money to last for a bit. Unlike Megavolt or Quackerjack, his habits were a bit cheaper. He closed the drawer and stashed the change in his coat pocket.

He went out, intent to busy himself for the moment and get something nice for himself. The idea of frozen yoghurt popped into his mind, and he headed towards the nearby '7Eleven'.

Just like the other day, there was a flash from the next street. Curious, Reginald peered around the corner.

"Quackator you're under arrest!" A silky dark voice announced into the darkness.
"Oi! Come on now; what the heck do I need to do to get rid of you?"
A bat screeched and swooped towards the criminal as he raced towards the fire hydrant. He batted it away with his weapon, then he smashed open the valve and dashed for cover as water erupted everywhere.

"Water won't stop me."
"Wanna bet?" Quackator yelled at his hereto unseen opponent. "Look at the mess, and it's only gonna get worse!" He ran around the corner, crashing headlong into Reginald. He scrabbled away, raising the nozzle of his flamethrower at him. He cursed. "I told you, I'm not going to be defeated by some ... plant ... thing."

"I am the terror that flaps in the night."
"Huh?" Quackator frowned, concentrating on Reginald's beak. "How'd you do that when you're here? And your beak's not moving."
"That's not me! That is Darkwing Duck." Reginald snapped. "I think you've got me confused with him."
"Oh, sure. That's just what you want me to think."

"I am the stray skateboard on the wooden floor of crime."
"I know your mind games. Cut it out."
"I am Darkwing Duck!"
Darkwing appeared onside them. Quackator did a double check, rubbing his eyes. "Two of you? Am I cursed today or something?"
"Vandalizing a fire hydrant, eh?"
"Well, I've always liked a bit of meat with my vegetables!"

"Dad!" Someone called out as Quackator triggered the flamethrower.

In the same instant, vines seized around Reginald and he was yanked away from the flame, back around to the next street. The vines dropped him under the deluge from the fire hydrant, right along with Darkwing Duck. Darkwing jumped up to a stand as Reginald looked up. By now, the flame had found a target. Something. Or rather someone. Reginald fancied the shape of wings, outstretched, protecting them from the fire? It was only for a moment before they were engulfed entirely in flames.

The flames died out into the air leaving a thin blackened frame, the wings were skeletal, the flesh burnt clear away. The interposer let out an incredible unduck-like shriek, which made Quackator bolt, dropping the flamethrower. The creature leapt after him with astonishing speed for his crisp condition.

Darkwing blinked at Reginald, a look of confusion on his face, his brain doing a massive double take on the situation.
"I didn't ask for help, I didn't have the ... time."
"Bushy ..." Darkwing stepped further away from the flume of water. He was completely drenched but his mind dismissed the discomfort as irrelevant, and focused instead on the evidence of the scene that had just taken place. 'I can't leave that lying around.' He picked up the flamethrower and looked back up at Reginald. "Someone just rescued the pair of us from being burnt to a crisp. Could it have been your son?"
"I don't have a son. I can't have a son." Bushroot crossed his vines. "You're still delusional. I shouldn't have let you leave my greenhouse after all."

"Did you see the flash?"
"Yes, it was just like Tula's glimmer."
"It's a portal." Darkwing explained. His mind needed the details to be correct, but also there was enjoyment in sharing the mystery. For a moment, Reginald almost felt like they were friends. "Those two probably came through it."

Darkwing considered several possibilities and quickly decided the best criminal for this job was Tula.
"All Tula wants is to get back at you." Reginald once again obliged Darkwing's mental topic. "And since she didn't kill you last time she'll keep trying."
"Well, it seems she's dragging you along for the ride, Bushroot." Darkwing gestured widely, the flamethrower in his hand. He looked down at it. 'Now what the heck am I going to do with a flame thrower? It's too dangerous to even throw in a bin.'

Reginald quaked, feeling uncomfortable. As soon as Darkwing got into the mix of things life careened into danger and all Reginald wanted to do was hide. This 'ride' that Darkwing was contemplating sounded suspiciously dangerous. Darkwing just stood there blinking and hopeful for company. Yes, he was prepared to take that risk; he took it every day.

The idea of company was very seductive to Reginald, but he was already exhausted and the idea of yet another near death experience was repelling."Well I'm not prepared to take the risk. This is your fight and I'm going home to sleep."
"Okay, Bushy. That's your choice of course." Darkwing just stood there. The Duck was somehow small without the old fight in him.

Reginald turned and walked away back to the greenhouse. He was so tired the frozen yoghurt no longer mattered.