A/N- Because I am a freaking perfectionist, I've had to re-upload this thing a few times. Stupid typos, and shit. Well, I notice them!
The entire time Megavolt remained kneeling at the pair of tombstones, he barely found himself aware of the risk of shorting out. He had already wept an ocean of tears, which blurred the interior of his goggles, and several tiny sparks had sprayed from his snout and whisker-tips.
But, for the first time, it remained the furthest thing from his mind.
"I'm so... s-s-so sorry," he gasped, getting the soil beneath his hands wetter still. "It should be me lying here, instead of you." He closed his eyes, heaving a shaky sigh. "But then, I've been dead for the past fifteen years, in a cold, lonely grave I dug all by myself."
He curled up in a fetal position, yearning for nothing more than to sink into the ground, to rest beside them for all eternity. "But, no," he whispered in self-disgust, in response to his thoughts, "that's far more than I deserve. I know I have no right to even be here. But I had to come... I just had to..."
He did not know how long he lay there for, the icy void of his own misery and loneliness dragging him further under until he eventually knew no more. When he finally came to, twilight had vanished, and all the luminaries of the universe- those which he secretly loved more than any artificial, man-made light- were softly gazing down on him like watchful, sympathetic eyes. As he had recently confessed to Gosalyn, nothing filled with greater peace and calm than watching them from the roof of his lighthouse, sometimes for hours on end. It was his private nightly ritual, and the only time he ever felt... normal, completely unburdened by his overwhelming insanity. There were no chorus of voices attached to these lights, only pure silence and stillness.
And until this very moment, with all his memories perfectly intact for the first time in years, he had never truly been conscious of the simple fact that it was the closest he ever felt to being Elmo Sputterspark again.
"But I'll never truly be Elmo Sputterspark again. I've been enslaved by Megavolt for too long to really be whole again. Elmo- the old Elmo- would never have harmed a fly. He never would have resorted to such desperate, fiendish measures. No matter how much I retain of my old self, no matter how much I try to return to a simpler time, I'll always find myself standing in Megavolt's shadow. I can run, but I can't hide from him... and even then, I can probably only run for so long," he moaned.
He pounded the hard ground, and cursed loudly. "I just don't know!" he shouted. "Even after having my memories restored, I'm more torn and frightened than ever!" Sniffling, he glanced up at the graves before him, and winced. "And I would be lying through my teeth if I said I didn't know why. I'd do anything to make things right again, to bring back all I've ever lost. But it's not like I can-"
Suddenly, Megavolt was on his feet, a desperate look of inspiration gleaming across his face, illuminated by the face of the moon. "That- that's it! Of course! I have the answer!" He laughed wildly- similar in volume and pitch to his usual mad cackle, but resonating instead of pure relief and hope. He turned, and fled from the cemetery. "It may be a long shot, but there's only one person I can rely on now. I just hope he'll be willing to help me."
The ThunderQuack made an unusually smooth touch-down, upon the broad rooftop of just one of the hundreds of buildings that made up downtown St. Canard. The top opened and Darkwing jumped out, a combination of irritation and confusion evident in his face.
"But, DW," the Duck Knight's best friend and sidekick was saying, "what makes you so sure that Megavolt's behind this city-wide blackout?"
"Will you get a grip, Launchpad?" Darkwing said, slightly exasperated, gas gun at the ready. "This is no random blackout. You know as well as I do that there's only one power-pilfering poindexter that's almost always behind such peculiarities!" He paused, raising an eyebrow. "Only-"
"Only we all thought for sure that Megavolt had changed- or, at least, really wants to," Launchpad finished. "I don't get it. Morgana's Truth Spell-"
"I know, I know! She even said that there is no possible way to tamper with such a potent spell. It would take a pretty powerful warlock to get around its effects, falsify his responses; and Megavolt is powerful, all right, but not in the otherworldly sense. I hate to admit it, LP, but I still find it a tad difficult to fully distrust him... because, more importantly, I trust Morgana."
"But what if all those memories were just too much for him?" Launchpad pointed out. "Morgana did say that said that a lot of them were pretty darn painful. Maybe he decided that being a villain is just easier, since he wouldn't have to face them then."
Darkwing nodded. "That was my guess, too. You know, I never thought I'd say this about one of my greatest arch-foes, but I can't help but feel sorry for the guy. I know he never originally chose this path. He never asked for it, he never foresaw any of it. It's not his fault his brain is so fried, his sense of reality and right-and-wrong so warped. As a former classmate, and one who understands what it's like to be a social outcast, I want to help him in any way I can."
"What're you going to do, DW?" Launchpad questioned.
"Well, like our last encounter on Audubon Bay Bridge, I'm going to approach him as a friend rather than an enemy. I'm going to try and reason with him. There may be a way to get through to him yet."
Launchpad did not look entirely convinced. "Ok, but I don't like this. Don't you want me to watch your back, at least?"
Darkwing shook his head. "No, just wait here. He'll probably be more likely to trust me if I go to him alone." As an afterthought, he put away his gun. "And unarmed."
"Good luck, DW. Be careful."
Darkwing spotted Megavolt on the other side of the roof, sitting on the edge. He walked up to him, stopping about a foot away, and spoke his name gently. "Megavolt?"
Megavolt whipped around. "Oh, Darkwing! You're here!" He immediately got to his feet, raising his hands in a gesture of submission. "Look, I'm really sorry about this. I'll put all the lights back on, I promise!" In a literal flash, he did just that. "I just didn't know how else to get your attention."
Darkwing blinked. "Oh, well, you've definitely got it. Um, so, what's on your mind, Megavolt?"
Megavolt closed his eyes, wincing sharply. "Please! Don't call me that anymore! I'm trying to sever all ties to that part of my life!"
Normally, Darkwing would have remarked that there was nothing apparently former about his trademark suit, which he still wore, but he knew that such a quip would be anything but appropriate or funny now. Besides, Megavolt probably had nothing else to wear. "All right, Elmo then. I guess, since we're here alone and all, you can call me Drake."
Megavolt nodded. "Darkw- Drake... first of all, I really want to thank you and your friends for giving me the benefit of the doubt. It's way more than I deserve. I gotta say, I'm not used to such kindness and understanding. I've heard it said that if you only worry about yourself, you'll just end up lonely and unhappy. As a villain, all I've ever thought about is myself, and look where it's gotten me- nowhere, absolutely nowhere. Only now am I truly starting to realize the consequences of my actions!"
"But you made up for years of selfishness and irresponsibility by saving Gosalyn," Darkwing pointed out. "Maybe it doesn't change all the mistakes you've made, but even you've admitted that it was a significant breakthrough, a first step in the right direction after leaving the Fearsome Five."
"Well... I would like to believe there is a chance I can make good, find a whole, new place in society where I can maybe make a difference. Continue where I left off, all those years ago... before..." Megavolt trailed off in thought. "And I had started to believe that getting my memories restored might bring some clarity to my life, help me figure out what I really want out of it now. But the truth is, I'm more mixed-up than ever. I still don't know who I am, not really. All I know for certain is what I've lost... who I've lost, what they've lost because of me." He mumbled, shaking his head, "And the guilt... you have no idea. How is it worth it, knowing what I know now, how?"
Darkwing looked at him sympathetically. "You know, Elmo, Morgana didn't share what she saw that night."
"Really?" Megavolt raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Yeah. She thought your privacy had been invaded enough by her, even if you never actually remembered anything until then."
"Well, I appreciate that," Megavolt said softly. He was silent for several seconds after, his gaze heavily focused on the brilliant night-sky.
Darkwing hesitated, then placed a delicate hand on Megavolt's shoulder. "It's totally up to you, Elmo. But if you want to talk about it, I'm more than willing to listen. I only want to understand better, to help."
Megvolt slowly turned to face him. Darkwing noticed, for the first time just how bloodshot his eyes were. "All right, look. The only reason I'm going to tell you any of this is so you'll understand the urgency behind my request."
"Request?"
"Yes. I need your help, and if you really want to help me, then this is the only way. Megavolt should never have been born, and I've got to see to it that he never was in the first place."
"Are you saying-?"
"First, let me explain. It was the evening of the Prom, a week after I had gained my new powers..."
"I just don't know what's gotten into him," Mrs. Sputterspark was anxiously saying to her husband as she joined him in the dining-room with a steaming mug of coffee. "From the moment he got home from his final day of exams, last Friday, he's locked himself in his bedroom. He won't come downstairs, he won't talk to us, and he'll only eat if we leave his meals outside his door."
"Honey, we've been through this," Mr. Sputterspark reasoned with her. "You know Elmo; he's always a bit of a recluse when he's working on an experiment. You know that project he's been at for weeks now, the one on harnessing static electricity to power lights? Don't forget, it's all he ever talked about. I don't think he's ever been more enthusiastic about his work! And don't forget how thrilled he's been over his big night tonight!"
"But to be withdrawn and isolated to this extent? It's just not like him, and you know it!" Mrs. Sputterspark argued. "You know there's something different about him, Edmund; I've seen it in your eyes. You can't tell me otherwise! It's as though he wants nothing to do with us! The more we try to talk to him, the more he pushes us away! I thought for sure he was just sick at first, but he's been eating everything we've left for him."
Under the purely adamant tone and face of his wife, Edmund Sputterspark could not help but falter. "Oh, Irma, maybe you're right," he quietly admitted with a sigh, stealing a glance towards the ceiling. "It has been on my mind, too. I suppose I just didn't want you to worry so much. I tried to convince myself, convince the both of us, that his behavior was perfectly normal, especially given the circumstances. I only hope it is nothing more than excitement over everything; heck, even nerves."
"Something must be really bothering him," Irma Sputterspark said, pushing away her untouched mug. "Something must have happened at school that day. Now, you and I both know it couldn't have anything to do with his exams. And even though all his life he's suffered so much at the cruel hands of his peers, he's never let it get him down. He's always been, well, my perky little ball of sunshine. And he's always willing to confide in us when something's on his mind."
She suddenly gasped. "Edmund! Do you think it could be drugs?"
Mr. Sputterspark looked both disgusted and outraged. "Irma! Have you lost your senses? Our son, given in to such temptation? You just finished saying how strong he is! You'll never convince me of such a ridiculous notion!"
Mrs. Sputterspark's face became clouded over with great shame. "Oh, Edmund- your're right; I'm sorry. I know in my heart Elmo would never..." She suddenly broke down crying. "But if it's not drugs or alcohol, then what could be wrong? Damnit, Edmund, I want my baby back!"
"Oh, now, Irma," Edmund began weakly, "he's not a child anymore. He's a brilliant young man, on the verge of graduating and taking his well-deserved place in the world."
"You know what I mean, Edmund! But I can't stand this anymore!" She rose to her feet, nearly knocking over her coffee. "I don't care if I am overreacting- I won't have my only son a stranger to his own parents."
Mr. Sputterspark nodded, standing up. "You're right, dear. I think we've given the boy more than enough privacy. It's time to find out what's going on. Besides," he added, glancing at the clock, "I think it's just about time for him to pick up his date, isn't it?"
Mrs. Sputterspark sighed. "And this is supposed to be a happy night for all of us. You know, I've said it before, and I'll say it again- I never thought I'd live to see him with a girl, even if they are mostly friends. I just hope he'll be back to his old self after the Prom." She sniffled. "My boy... going to his Senior Prom... with a date of his own."
"Well, she seems to make him very happy. I'm sure she's just what he needs to lift his spirits. It'll work out fine, Irma. You'll see." Mr. Sputterspark smiled with loving encouragement at his wife, holding her hand.
Mrs. Sputterspark smiled weakly, then suddenly gasped. "He couldn't have gotten her preg-"
"Irma!"
Mrs. Sputterspark sighed wearily. "I know; I'm sorry."
Once upstairs, his mother knocked at Elmo's door. "Elmo, dear? It's past seven. Are you ready?"
There was only the repeated sound of the output of volts, for answer.
Mr. Sputterspark knocked, with significantly greater force than his wife. "Elmo, I don't think we need to tell you that it's rude to keep a lady waiting. Now, whatever you're working on, it can surely wait. As it is, I think you've already had a substantial amount of time to work on it all this week!"
"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"
It was one of the few sentences Elmo had spoken as of late. But the truly shocking part was that Elmo had never spoken to them like that before.
Mrs. Sputterspark burst into tears. "I knew something was wrong, I just knew it! Elmo- sweetie, open up! Talk to us, please! What's going on with you?"
"Elmo Sputterspark!" his father roared. It was equally uncharacteristc for him, having rarely raised his voice with his son before. "If you are not out here in five seconds, I'm breaking down the door! Do you hear me? Have you any idea what you're putting your poor mother through?"
"I SAID, GO AWAY!"
It all happened so fast. His mother's sobbing... his father's counting down, then just proceeding to make good on his promise... and a blinding flash, like an explosion, that blasted the door off its hinges, the mammoth force sending both his parents crashing backwards along with it. Screams... coughs... weak, albeit horrified gasps... and soon, the only sound left was the leftover sparking and sizzling of Elmo's glowing, electrified form, easily drowned out by his own screaming.
"I knew immediately what I had done," Megavolt was saying, his voice cold and distant, as though no longer aware of Darkwing's presence. "But at the time, it was only on a subconscious level that I recognized the fault as entirely mine. Shock turned to horror, horror turned to grief, grief to pure rage. That String was guilty of making my school-life hell all those years, and then turning me into a freak, suddenly became only the tip of the iceberg. I had initially planned to wreak my vengeance on the entire school that night, especially him and Preena Lott, and now I had far greater incentive to do so. I blamed them both for the deaths of my parents, since it was them who made me what I was in the first place."
After struggling to compose himself, he then went on to tell Darkwing about his short-lived relationship with Eleanor, and how they had parted for good that night. "Blind fool that I was, again I failed to truly realize that I had only myself to blame. But I felt so hurt and ultimately betrayed by my one-and-only dearest friend, that she would put herself in harm's way to stop me from punishing our common oppressors, that she would choose them over me, knowing that I could never directly oppose her... and when she almost got badly injured for her efforts, and I thought I had killed her like my parents... I think that was the final kick to send me over the edge for good."
His voice trailed off into a sob, and he vainly fought back tears. In the meanwhile, Darkwing sat beside him, staring intently with nothing less than blatant shock and compassion. All the years he had fought against Megavolt, all the time they had been sworn enemies, he had never imagined anything like this. On the night of the high-school reunion, after he had thwarted him for the last time, the origins of the supervillain Megavolt had all spilled out; and Darkwing had found himself feeling oddly understanding and sympathetic. But now he realized just how much he really had lost.
And maybe, he also realized, that it wasn't just years of having his brain cells fried- including the incident that started it all- that caused him such memory-loss, but an inherent desire to suppress the truly painful memories. Soon, a life of crime would be all he would ever know, and nothing else would matter to him anymore.
"You know, I didn't really join the Fearsome Five for power, wealth, and vengeance against you," Megavolt suddenly muttered, breaking the painful silence. Darkwing looked at him curiously, sadly, nodding at him to continue. "And I think I speak for all of us when I say this, since we were nothing but a group of outcasts with sorry stories to tell. I think we all wanted to feel a sense of belonging, to feel like 'one of the guys.' I guess, really, friendship was all we really wanted. We respected each-other, we watched each-other's backs, we were as close as brothers. We were probably the closest team of badniks there's ever been," he said, chuckling quietly. He sighed, shaking his head. "But, even so... I know now that it's not worth it. I can never go back. It's time to put the past behind me, once-and-for-all. Will you help me, Drake?"
"I'll do what I can, Elmo. What do you need?"
"The Time Top," Megavolt answered bluntly.
Darkwing blinked. "Wait... what?"
"Quackerjack's old invention, remember? You confiscated it from us that night? Please tell me it's still in your possession, Darkwing! Please tell me Elmo Sputterspark can live again!" Megavolt was shaking him desperately, looking very much like the crazed nutter he had always known.
"Elmo... I want you to listen to me carefully, all right?" Darkwing looked at him sternly. "First of all, everything that happened on Prom Night was a tragic accident, a terrible turn of misfortune... just like your whole transformation, in the first place. None of it was anybody's fault. And I almost wish I could say that I know what it's like to lose a significant part of your life, let alone everything... but I can't, and I pray I never do. I know I'll never truly understand just what you've been through. But that has nothing to do with why I can't let you change history." He paused. "But, then, it has everything to do with it. Look, Elmo- you might say both of our lives were defined that evening, years ago. You officially became Megavolt, and I became Darkwing Duck. I realized what my purpose was in life, I realized that I could become a hero to so many who have nobody to turn to in times of fear, trouble, and chaos. I admit it- even since high-school, I've had a bit of an inflated ego, but only to make up for a lifetime of low self-esteem and nagging self-doubt. I've always been afraid of failure, uncertain of myself. I had always wanted to make a difference, but until that night, I never really knew what to do with my life. But attention-seeking aside, at the heart of it all, I just wanted to help others."
"You wanted to defend the helpless and the vulnerable... because you knew what it was like to feel weak and pathetic. You wanted to be a symbol of strength for them, the strength that you yourself never knew you had. Besides," Megavolt smiled faintly, "what would Gosalyn have ever done without Darkwing Duck in her life?"
Darkwing looked at him in sheer surprise. " Elmo... you do understand."
"I- I guess I do. I only wish that I could have seen my own increased potential, instead of wasting my whole life... wasting these powers."
"Elmo, don't you see? It's not too late! Just like you only recently helped me realize that the line between good and evil is not as black-and-white as it seems, the exact same can be said about our so-called destiny! Is our future really written in stone? Maybe things do occur for a reason, but we have the final say! It's all about freedom of choice!"
The prongs on Megavolt's helmet began to spark, and he suddenly leapt to his feet and glared at Darkwing. "Then why couldn't I save my parents? Why did I selfishly betray Eleanor?" he shouted. "Accident or not, those were still due to choices that I made, weren't they? And even if by some insane miracle, her path and mine do ever happen to cross again, I can still never bring my parents back! I still failed everybody I ever cared about- who ever cared about me! If they could see what I've become..."
"Mistakes happen! Accidents happen! Most of the time, we don't even know why or how anything turns out the way it does, be it inevitable or sheer happenstance! Yes, the past can hurt! But we can either spend the rest of our lives running from it, or face up to it! That's the point!" Now, it was Darkwing's turn to be in the rodent's face.
Megavolt looked startled at the duck's abruptness, but his face softened. "I think I get you, Drake. Still..." He looked down. "It's not going to be easy. I still have a lot to figure about. But, maybe..." A ray of hope crossed his face.
"Remember, your will's only as limited as you choose, Elmo."
"Maybe... I could try defying gravity again. The only one who can really ground me is myself; I've learned that now, if I've learned anything."
In years to come, he would never fully recover from the amazement at his own daring. It was one of the most intense decisions he had ever made, and it took a great deal for him to work up to it. In the end, though, he had to remind himself- if he was so willing to throw himself off Audubon Bay Bridge before, then surely he had the courage for this.
Although he had initially considered it, on several occasions, he had decided against phoning. He knew that would have been much harder, though he didn't quite know why.
He glanced down at the listing he had torn from the phone-book. He dearly hoped this was the place. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he rang the doorbell; even now, he wasn't sure if this was not a mistake. But he had to try.
A woman in her early-thirties, a rat like him, answered. She stared at the stranger curiously, if not a tad suspiciously. "Yes? Can I help you?" she frowned.
His breath seemed caught in his throat. He could only stare at her, silently speaking to her, pleading, his eyes brimming with emotion.
As she carefully observed the man, who wore blue slacks, a yellow button-down T-shirt, and a navy-blue tie decorated with a yellow zig-zag pattern, her eyes suddenly widened. She felt as though she had gotten hit in the chest by lightning.
"Elmo?"
