A.N. Actually, I deleted that bowling ball ref from the other chapter about 3 times but constantly put it back in. Anyway, we're approaching the end of the fic soon (maybe one or two chapters…), thanks for sticking around until now!

X

Nodoff sat on the chair near the couch, smoking a pipe. He made a few notes. The room was entirely black aside from the red couch, a plant and the desk he was sitting on. Sometimes, he leant on his hands and frowned.

'Before you can go to Gosalyn, before you can trust her, you need to fully trust Morgana. She knows where Gosalyn is, deep down in her heart, because I am part of her. Then again, I'm also part of you. Are you still following me? I know it's complicated, the subconscious tends to be.'

'What did you do to Morgana?' Darkwing leapt from the couch.

'She's in the next room. She's in this dream, because you forgave her, because she's keen on being near you. I can't lock her out that easily anymore. It's strange how strong her magic can be.'

'Take me to her and then to Gosalyn!'

'She'll help you find your daughter, when she can. If she wants to.'

'Of course she wants to.'

'I wouldn't be so sure about that. You see, she's getting confused around you. She thinks you don't like her. She's unsure whether or not you want her in her family. And it's killing her. It's easy to lock her in Dream World because she's already constantly locked in her mind. She can't let go.'

Darkwing was struck by this notion, this idea that Morgana was so unhappy. Had he been unclear to her? He had tried to be good and right to her all the time. Well, maybe not all the time, he tended to be a bit selfish, but he had tried. 'What do you mean?'

'She can't let go of her emotions. She's disbalanced, always has been. In a way she's a typical borderline case. She blames it on the magic, on her dad, on her mom passing away. She finds a thousand excuses. Well, call it what you will, but she has always been a little fruity.'

'We're all a little fruity, mister. It's what makes it nice to be around her, I think.'

'It's interesting, your remark, that you're both the same. My hypothesis, a very psychoanalytical one, is also that you are attracted to her because you recognize yourself in her part. She's a lot like you but in a way, you are even more extreme. You always try to blame others when something goes wrong. You're full of drama, try to act perfect, are full of yourself, even though you know that in the end, you have little power, little charm and can't even hold a candle against Morgana, Gizmoduck and all of your other friends and rivals.'

'I think you're mistaken about me. I'm anything but selfish. I'm the daring Darkwing Duck that does good. I'm not a true vigilante as much as an aid to society.'

'Be that as it may, this is not about you. You will change. You will learn. She has accepted this narcissistic aspect of you, even finds it charming, but what she lacks is the care. Can I ever be a good mom? Can I ever be a mom at all? Will he ever let me near Gosalyn? You know what you ask her in that dream, that dream in which you die?'

Darkwing thought about the dream but in Dream World, he experienced only a version of it, a spin-off so you will. He could not remember what had happened the first time he dreamt it.

'Uh, I'm not sure.'

'You don't ask her to look out for Gos, you ask Launchpad. It makes sense, if you ask me, but it's the kind of stuff that gets you down. Look, I'm just her desire talking here, her subconscious, but it sure would've been nice if you took Morg into account here too.'

'That dream is only one example, a very minor one, it wasn't even an actual conversation or experience.'

'But here's the rub. She has it over and over because it hurt her so much. Sometimes, imaginative magic is a bit sticky. Sometimes, our mind doesn't quite work the way we want it to.' He emptied his pipe, coughed a little. 'I wish things were different but you need to make clear to her where she stands, what you want from her. You need to show her you trust her. Then, finding Gosalyn is easy.'

'It almost seems as if you are helping us.'

'I'm not a bad man. Sure, I love toying with you guys, but in the end, I'm only your collective subconscious speaking. I'm basically a bag of archetypes and collective memories, so you will. I'm shaped by years of experience, starting out as that monster, hiding underneath your bed, moving my way into your teenage angst and then slowly, your adult insecurities. I can ruin you, yes, by keeping you here, but it's not what I want. I want to stay active, I need your dreams to live and to do that, you two need to progress as well. You keep invading my world, I don't like it. I want some quality dreams from your side and a little bit of rest. So I want you to take Morgana and Gosalyn out of here with a lesson or two.'

'It almost seems too easy. Don't you want to have a big fight with me?' Darkwing said.

'Not since last time. I didn't like reality that much back then and I still don't care for it now. You know what I want? I want you to make some new dreams with her. I want you to motivate her and help her to be good, find out what that entails. She doesn't know what to do with her days. She needs a job and some new dreams, a few projects. Maybe some stuff related to magic, I don't know, and honestly, I don't care. She can't have the kind of family life she wants with you yet and she isn't the right person for that either. Like you, she needs her work and she's ambitious. She wants to be good at what she does, magic, and maybe help you a little with the crime fighting. That's it. But it needs to be much more concrete.'

'I wouldn't know what.'

'You'll think of something. Brainstorm about it together. If you ask me, I'd think in the lines of establishing a magical, benevolent company or getting a teaching position, maybe even becoming a supernatural consultant. '

'Hm, there's got to be a catch here of some sort.' Darkwing stared at the only plant in the room absent-mindedly.

'No. Then again, maybe I'm just you, talking to you, explaining what it is you really already know. Maybe I'm not Nodoff. Maybe I'm just your imagination talking, just another dream. And I'm saying, involve her in your life. She's getting older and so are you. You need to make it worth your while.'

He poofed away and left Darkwing alone in the room. He looked all over the place to find a door or portal or some hint as to how to get to Morgana. If she was locked in this dream too, she had to be around somewhere. He lifted the couch, looked behind the pillows for hints, and checked the drawers of Nodoff's desk. When he finally lifted the plant, he saw a hole underneath it. He leapt in and landed.

The world turned abstract. He was caught in words, more specifically, promises. Each letter turned around. Each word became a loop of its own - constant repetition. The images were abstract and blurry. A non-world, really. There were sounds that reminded him of Gosalyn and his purpose, shouts that he couldn't quite make out. The reminders were vague, so vague he fell deeper and deeper into the letters and the promise was broken down into little chunks and finally, sand. He swam through the o and then the m. Sometimes, he drowned in colours. They were incentives. Promise me you'll never leave me. Don't let go. Come back.

Come back now.

0

When Morgana imagined Darkwing into being again, she had called him numerous times through a portal. Finally, she had worked her magic on the gateway and he had appeared, first, a blurry image, then clearer, until she could pull him out. The fact that she had found Eek and Squeek, and their note, had helped a lot. The bats were now flying around her happily. Their little family was nearly reunited. Darkwing fell to the ground, coughing.

'Nodoff told me you'd know where to find Gosalyn,' he started. He was not angry, did not held it against her but he emphasized the Nodoff told me bitterly, as if she should have told him herself.

'Like always, he was playing tricks on you. I cannot sense her yet, but we can try. I found her before, I can do so again. There's a trace of her I can follow. It makes sense. You know, because when you –'

'You are rambling a bit.'

'Let me finish, it's pretty abstract. Magic, that is. It's often like that.' They walked through an environment that was disoriented: a river that ended abruptly, fragments of their houses, a withered picture of Gosalyn stamped on a wall. In the distance Morgana saw the magic school she had attended that resembled exactly what she thought of at the moment. She had brought it into being. That's how complex imaginative magic was. It started to operate right at the moment you were conceptualizing it, visualizing it somewhere in the corners of your mind.

'That's the way I learned it, imaginative magic. It's a very distinctive profession. Anyway, when you have had a thought before or a dream, it reoccurs.' That's when it happened. They both thought of the same dream and it appeared in front of them. It was like there were four of them, all of the sudden, because this time, they were not acting in the dream. They were watching. Morgana felt sick seeing herself crying. It was only a feint version of herself and a lot of things felt off. The ghostly version of Darkwing? Same thing.

'That dream,' Darkwing said.

'Yes, that dream we share.' She tried to outthink and told him to do the same. It vaporized when they conjured happy thoughts, flowers, graveyards, pets. Their walk continued but it was as if the environment was more and more affected by the little thoughts they had.

'We've shared some other dreams before, don't you remember?' she asked. 'It makes it easier to find you, to think of you, because there's a connection. The dream becomes a memory that you can activate in the future.' A large hour glass appeared like the one that had trapped Morgana before. She tapped on it. The sand seemed empty to her. They had to hurry. If the symbol was related to Gosalyn, her time was wearing out too. If it stood for their sanity and the time they could remain in Dream World that was just as bad.

'What do we do with this?' Darkwing asked, checking out the hour glass.

'I'm not sure. All I know is that we need to imagine her. Then we'll find her. It's like that myth with the yarn. All you need to do is follow the string.'

'Envision the string, then, Morgana. That might help.'

'Yes. It will. I'm doing that as we speak.' She smiled. 'Dark, you finally got one of the basics of imaginative magic. Create loopholes and items. Symbolize your needs.'

Her hands glowed. In front of them, a red thread cut through the darkness.

0

The walk was like a trip through your own body, your own blood. You follow your own artery. You hear your heart pounding in the darkness. They say that when you venture into the centre of your own subconscious, you see nothing. It's one black pit with no water in it. There's no reflection so you don't even see yourself staring back. Instead, you loose yourself. It's a little bit like dying. When you hold someone else's hand, though, it's like you see everything. You become that other person that you touch when you go deeper and deeper. You can peek inside someone else for a little while, and become them, and then you finally understand why they do what they do. It's so vital. White fingers will draw your way in the darkness. Eyes will be your stars. You start to wonder how deep you can go before you bump into yourself and finally, your own birth and your own demise. How much does it take to vanish completely? Just one, infinite line.

At some point the thread changed. It spliced into little drops of blood.

Each drop formed a portal.

- - 0 0 0 0

Little red windows peaking through the darkness.