The sudden jerk brought Launchpad snorting awake. The sheer cliff face rose above them and the crack of the canyon jutted up and cleaved it in two. Ripcord had stopped the jeep and he stared out the windscreen at the canyon's entrance, frozen.

"Dad?" Launchpad rubbed the sleep blearily from his eyes. "You okay?"

Ripcord blinked himself back to reality. "Ah, yeah. Just stalled is all." He started the engine back up, pushed the gears into first, and trundled slowly into the canyon.

The cliff walls closed in around them. From all the way on the canyon floor, it really was imposing. It didn't feel anywhere near as tight in the jeep as flying through in the aeroplanes. His father drove slowly, cautiously, even though the floor was relatively clear and flat.

"We got a minute or two in," Launchpad prompted. He didn't want to drive all the way there at a snail's pace. It was getting late already.

"Of course you did." Ripcord dropped the jeep into second and picked up speed.

It took about fifteen minutes to find Loopey's plane. Launchpad took the time to survey the terrain, checking there wouldn't be any obstacles to tow out the plane. It all looked pretty clear. With any luck, they could get home in time for a late dinner.

The jeep rumbled to a halt and the engine shuddered off as his father, again, stalled. Launchpad leapt out, eager to get a start on the repairs, opened up the back, and started to riffle through their tools. "I had a look with Loopey before we left. I think if we just rivet that strut back down its not going to work itself loose or cause more damage when we tow it back."

His father didn't respond; he stood and stared at Loopey's plane. The loose strut jerked and sagged in the breeze. The wing certainly looked pretty sad.

Launchpad sighed and stepped up beside him. "Dad, I'm really sorry. But it's not that bad. If you want, I don't mind paying for the parts."

"You think I care about the blasted parts? Do you have any idea how stupid this was?" Ripcord stomped to the back of the jeep.

Launchpad flung out his arms in silent exasperation. Why?! He'd thought his father had gotten over his mood. But now it was back in force. "Dad don't… don't lift the compressor down by yourself."

Ripcord grunted, and let Launchpad help him lift the compressor down from the jeep. Then he went back in and continued to dig through the tools. Launchpad pushed in beside him, the two men shoulder to shoulder as they tried to get their hands into the gear they'd packed.

"What are you looking for?"

"We need to repair the whole wing," Ripcord grumbled.

"We can do that when we get back to the hanger."

"You just want to drag it back? You don't have to get it home before your parents find out anymore. I'm doing this properly!"

"You want to fix the entire wing? We'll be here all night!"

"Why do you think we threw in the sleeping gear. Just… move." Ripcord reached across him.

"Dad, come on, this is overkill."

"You crashed in the middle of the bloody canyon!" Ripcord spun to face him, and in the close quarters his shoulder slammed into Launchpad and knocked him back. "Of course its not going to be easy. And this?" He flung a hand at Loopey's plane. "Trust me, this is nothing. So you have to sleep on a rock. This could be far, far worse. So just… stop whining okay?"

Launchpad swallowed the lump that had risen to his throat. "Okay, fine. If you don't want me here whining and getting in your way, I'll just…"

"Launchpad…"

Launchpad dug the handheld radio out of the front of the jeep. "I'm going to call Mom. She'll want to know we're going to be out here all night doing excessive maintenance."

"You won't get a signal down here. Son, wait, please, I'm sorry…"

"Exactly!" Launchpad stormed off across the canyon to where he and Loopey had climbed out to reach his plane.

Halfway up the canyon wall, when Launchpad glanced back over his shoulder, Ripcord was back at the rear of the jeep, setting up the rivet gun. The chug chug of the compressor started up. Launchpad huffed, and hauled himself the rest of the way up onto the plateau.

The air had started to cool, and wind whipped through his feathers as the sun dipped towards the horizon. "Seriously, what did we do, it was an accident! And then I, I was just trying to help. What is your deal with this stupid canyon?" Launchpad sunk onto a nearby rock and put his face in his hand. "I came all the way out here with you. I'm trying, I'm really trying." He wiped at the corner of his eyes, then pulled the radio out of his jacket.

Lights winked on in the distance, marking the location of the town and surrounding properties. He'd get a signal from here. Launchpad rested the radio against his cheek. "Launchpad to Mama Birdie. Come in."

It didn't take her long to reply. The radio crackled and Launchpad heard her laugh. "Goodness, Launchpad, when was the last time you used that callsign? You told me it wasn't cool anymore."

"Huh?"

"Mama Birdie."

"Oh. Sorry, my mind was elsewhere."

"Are you okay?"

"I… no. Dad's decided we're going to stay out all night and fix the entire wing before he'll even think about towing the plane back. I mean I know he's pretty rigid about his maintenance plans and all that, but this is just ridiculous."

"Is he okay?"

"Him? He's snapping at me and grouchy and… Mom, I don't know what's going on. I know I should've visited you guys sooner, and I know it hurt his feelings that I haven't but… I'm trying. That's why I came out here with him. And I know me and Loopey upset him, but, apart from that, I just don't know what I did."

"Loopey told me what happened. Has your father said anything about the canyon?"

"No. Apart from the usual and how stupid we were to go there."

"Okay." Birdie was quiet for a moment."Launchpad, do you remember the first time you went flying with your father?"

"You mean when you took us both up in the plane together? Of course." He'd been so happy Dad had actually come with them. Mom taking him up in the planes had been great, but he'd wanted to go with his Dad too. And that first time, sitting in his father's lap with his arms wrapped protectively around him, even though he'd been strapped in securely as well, had been one of the happiest moments of his young life.

"No. I mean before that."

"Before…" As Launchpad turned the memories of his childhood over in his mind, they turned sour. "Dad never took me out before that," he said coldly. "And its not because I was too young to remember. Because I remember asking if he'd take me up in the plane like you did. But he always had his face buried in his stupid maintenance manuals." He'd been five when Birdie had started taking him up. Just turned six when his father had finally decided to come with them too. But even as an adult the memory of his father ignoring him for so long hurt.

"Launchpad," said Birdie. "You need to talk to your father. You might not remember, but he was the one who took you on your first flight. You tell him he needs to tell you what happened. And don't you take no for an answer. He's only hurting himself by not talking about this. And you. He should've told you this when you were a teenager; you deserve to know."

Launchpad picked out one of the twinkles on the horizon, and decided that was their house. "Mom? Is that why he's so weird about the canyon?"

Birdie sighed. "Yes."

"But what happened…"

"Sweetheart, talk to your Dad. I can't do this for him. Remember we both love you. Mama Birdie out."

His father had taken him up in the plane before Mom did, and Launchpad couldn't remember. He could think of only one reason a kid might forget something like that. It would explain why Dad was so angry about the canyon, and why he had refused to take his son out again for so long.

Launchpad gulped. But he couldn't put this off. The sky was darkening fast, the wind on top of the plateau picking up. If he mulled up here much longer he'd snap an ankle trying to climb back into the canyon. It was still a little dicey as he slid those last few feet to the canyon floor.

The compressor was off. His father had a fire going, a decent sized log pulled up beside it, and was settling the last few pieces of wood onto the blaze. "Launchpad, there you are. I was getting worried."

Talk to your Dad. But Launchpad didn't know where to start.

Ripcord put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for snapping at you. You kids just scared me. I'm a little on edge."

Launchpad gulped. "Did you fix the plane already?"

Ripcord lowered his gaze. "No. I just riveted up the strut so it wouldn't mess anything else up… like you said. You're right. I can't do a proper repair out here. And I forgot to bring decent lights anyway. So…" He shrugged. "I don't want to try tow it out through the canyon in the dark now, we'll just end up damaging something. Guess we're stuck here for the night. You want me to make some dinner?"

"I… no. I want to talk," Launchpad said, firmly. "I spoke to Mom. She said I need to ask you about the first time you took me out in a plane and what happened in this canyon."

Ripcord's face darkened. "I thought you just called her to let her know we'd be out here all night?"

"I did. But I was upset, okay? You've been acting really weird. You don't usually talk to me like you did, and you still can't tell either me or Loopey what's so bad about this stupid canyon."

"I should think its pretty obvious!" Ripcord flung a hand out at Loopey's battered plane. "It's dangerous."

"Dad, we're the Flying McQuacks. We've done plenty of dangerous stunts. We don't avoid them. You and Mom always taught us how to do them, properly; that's how you stopped us getting hurt. Maybe if you'd actually taught us to fly through here I would've known the terrain and this wouldn't have happened."

"You don't know what you're talking about." Ripcord stomped back to the fire and started riffling through the tins of food he'd taken out.

"Exactly, I don't. So why don't you tell me?"

Ripcord kept digging through the tins, paying far too much attention to the labels and ingredients lists.

"I think I know." Launchpad pressed. "This is where we flew that first time, wasn't it? And I don't remember because we crashed."

Ripcord tossed aside a tin of soup. "Yeah, and it scared me. Dangerous. We never did it again. End of story."

"But what did I do?!" Launchpad flung his arms wide. "I may not remember coming out here; but I remember after. I remember asking you time and again if you could take me out in the planes like Mommy did. And you always had some excuse, or you'd ignore me. All I remember is you sitting at your damned desk with your back to me and 'not now, son'."

Ripcord stopped his assault on the tinned goods. "Launchpad…"

"Did I distract you or something? Or touch something in the cockpit? I mean, we crashed, it's what I do…"

Ripcord stood to his feet and took Launchpad by the shoulders. "You were a child. You didn't do anything, you couldn't have… aw, son… I didn't know you thought…" He hung his head. "Birdie was right. I should have told you this already. I'm a coward."

"Dad, just tell me what happened."

Ripcord sunk down on the log beside the fire, and Launchpad joined him. "Yeah, I took you out on your first flight. I took you to this canyon. And I…" His voice broke. "I screwed up."

"And what makes the aeroplanes fly, Launchpad?"

Launchpad sat in Ripcord's lap in the aeroplane cockpit. It wasn't the first time they'd sat up there together in the small biplane. But today was going to be different. The tiny harness they'd bought for their son finally fit him properly. Which meant he'd finally get the kid off the ground. Ripcord wasn't sure who was more excited.

"Um…" Launchpad thought for a moment, then exclaimed: "Aerofoils!"

"Oh kid, you're smart." Ripcord nuzzled his beak into his son's hair, eliciting a giggle. "Okay, that's the pre-flight briefing, check. Birdie, could you open up the hanger doors? We're ready to… honey, she's got a bolt in her mouth again."

His wife pulled herself out from under the plane next to him, skated clean across the floor on the garage creeper, and deftly swiped Loopey off the blanket they'd set her up to play on. "No, sweetie, you can play with those when you're bigger."

Loopey fussed and groped for the bolt - at least an inch in diameter, so she'd have to try pretty hard to actually choke on it - until her mother shoved a dummy into her hands. Launchpad took the opportunity to rearrange his curly red hair that had just been ruffled all over the place.

"Oh, that reminds me." Ripcord spun his son around in his lap to face him. "You're a proper aviator now. So you have to look that part. I've got a present for you." He dug behind the seat, pulled out a tiny aviator's cap, and nestled it over his son's locks.

It was a little big, and Launchpad straightened it out. "This hat is weird."

"Hey…" Ripcord put on his best hurt face, and pointed to his own aviator's cap.

Launchpad's face lit up. "Oh! I like it then!"

The hanger doors rumbled open. Ripcord spun his son back around, then did up his harness. Then checked it again.

"Rip," said Birdie, as she stood beside the plane bouncing baby Loopey on her hip. "Did you remember to check the engine oil?"

"I…" Ripcord counted the months off on his fingers, then groaned. "It's due, isn't it? When I get back?"

"We have got to start writing this stuff down. These things are expensive enough to keep running; we need to keep on top of the maintenance."

"It'll be fine. It's only just due… but yes, I'll do it when I get back. And I'll start keeping a calendar. Woodchuck's honour."

Birdie smiled at him. "Good. Have fun, sweetheart. You too, Launchpad. Make sure your father behaves himself."

Launchpad beamed. "Yes, Mommy. Bye, Loopey. Don't eat bolts. They taste funny."

"Oh, wait!"

Ripcord resisted the urge to roll his eyes. What else had he forgotten? But his wife just pulled out a camera, wielding it one-handed as she balanced Loopey. "Smile, you two."

They trundled out of the hanger, to the short dirt runway. Ripcord checked Launchpad's harness again. "Okay, hang on, son. Your old man is about to change your life." He accelerated, getting up to speed, then pulled the plane up into the air. He climbed quickly, the g-forces pushing him back, then levelled out.

He patted his son on the shoulder. "How you going there, kiddo?"

"Daddy, we're flying!" Launchpad squeaked.

Thanks goodness, Ripcord thought as a grin split his face. He hadn't scared his son. Yup, he had a pilot here.

"Can we go faster?"

"Oh, heck yeah!" Ripcord pushed the little biplane to the limit as they sped over the desert floor.

Launchpad leaned back into his chest and giggled. Wow. He was going pretty fast. This kid had no fear.

The canyon tore towards them across the desert floor. Ripcord bled off speed. He couldn't go anywhere near as fast once he got inside, and besides, he had a lap full of five year old. No, despite Launchpad's enthusiasm, they'd be taking this part of the flight a little more sedately.

The biplane soared into the canyon, rocking side to side as Ripcord negotiated the bends.

"You having fun?"

"Can we go faster?"

"I'm afraid not. This old girl," Ripcord patted the plane, "is a little skittish. We don't want to scare her."

"Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you teach me to be a pilot just like you?"

Ripcord gulped at the lump which had come to this throat. Of course, he'd fully expected his son to ask that question of him one day. He was a McQuack. But damn, that was quick. "Oh kiddo," he said as he wiped at the corner of his eye. "I'm going to take you on so many plane rides. I'm going to show you everything I know. You are going to be the best darned pilot…"

The propeller coughed, then spluttered. Huh. That didn't sound good. He could probably put down once they'd cleared the canyon and check the engine. Probably overkill, but he wasn't messing around with his kid in the plane.

There was a bang, the aeroplane bucked, and then the engine tore itself apart.

Ripcord pulled himself upright in the cockpit, coughed into his hand, then stared at the flecks of red on his white feathers. "Shit…" There wasn't much left of the cockpit. An entire wing was gone, along with half the side of the plane. His harness hung loose, its mounts on the damaged side torn away. The nose, propeller, and engine were obliterated.

He was still alive.

Ripcord flopped back and watched a cloud scud across the sky above him. Each breath tore at his chest. He'd probably punctured a lung. He shifted his legs, and they felt okay. Somehow, the engine turned shrapnel hadn't ripped its way through him.

Breath still rasping in his chest, he sat up. And looked at the bit of leather he clutched in his hand. A tiny aviator's cap.

"Launchpad!" Ripcord lurched upwards, then grunted as his harness bit into his damaged chest. He tore the blasted thing off and leapt out of the cockpit. The movement brought him crashing to his knees in the dirt.

He hacked and sucked in air. "Launchpad!" Debris littered the canyon floor as far as he could see. But he couldn't see his son.

Ripcord hauled himself to his feet and tears blurred his vision. No. Launchpad was here somewhere. He stumbled amongst the wreckage from one side of the canyon to the other. Movement caught his eye. The flutter of a pale scarf caught in the breeze.

Ripcord slumped to his knees beside the crumpled pile of clothing. He pulled the boy to a seated position, but his head lolled limply against his chest. "Hey, buddy, you okay? Come on…" He pushed his hand through Launchpad's hair. Those soft locks were now sticky, and matted, and Ripcord's hand came away stained red.

"Sweetheart, wake up." Ripcord clamped his son to his chest and sobbed into his shoulder. "Please… wake up…"

He felt it then, thudding against his aching chest. His son's feathery heartbeat and the faint rise and fall of his tiny chest against his. "There you go… you're okay…"

Ripcord stood, cradling his son. "Help!" His voice caught in his throat and he coughed and hacked and fought for air. "Help…" It was useless. There was no one for miles.

Ripcord turned back the way they'd flown in. And started walking. Each step moved the loose bone in his chest; each breath came ragged. But he was going to get his son home if it was the last thing he did.

The sky grew dark. He'd cleared the canyon, but could no longer tell where he was going. The night air, fast dropping in temperature, bit into his bones. By now, Birdie had to know something was wrong. Birdie would come and get him.

Lights on the horizon bounced and swayed. Beams of light played over rocks and bushes. Just another step. The lights grew closer. One of the beams whipped up and blinded him.

"Over here! I've found them!"

In the darkness, a dozen people were suddenly upon him, disembodied as flashlights and headlights caught arms and faces and… Launchpad was taken from his arms. Ripcord threw a punch like a drunk man. His legs gave out and he slammed into someone's chest. Then arms were around him, steadying his decent as he sunk to his knees on the desert floor.

"Steady, mate. Birdie's got him. Everything's going to be alright." Somehow, it was the broad Australian accent of their nearest neighbour that snapped Ripcord out of his daze enough for him to realise what was happening.

"Launchpad's… hurt…" Ripcord rasped, as he rested his head against the man's chest. "You gotta help him."

Ripcord stared into the fire, and the light reflected brightly in his eyes. "They kept you in a coma for nearly a month. I didn't know if…"

Launchpad reached over and grasped his father's hand where it trembled in his lap. "It's okay, Dad."

"No, it's not. I hurt you."

"It's not your fault," Launchpad said gently. "I can't imagine how scary that must've been for you. When Loopey went down, I didn't know what happened to her for all of two minutes. That was bad enough. I get why you never wanted us to come to the canyon now. I'm sorry we scared you."

"But it shouldn't have happened!" Ripcord gritted his teeth. "Your mother told me to check the oil and I couldn't be bothered…"

"It's not like you never changed it or anything. That wouldn't tear apart an engine…"

"But I should've checked it! I don't know what the hell happened. But if I'd looked, I probably would've poked around at other stuff, I might have seen what was about to fail, and I wouldn't have gone out. And then you wouldn't have…" Ripcord's shoulders sagged and his breath caught in his throat. "I'm so sorry, son."

Launchpad squeezed his father's hand. All he had to do was let him talk through this. "Is that why you're so over the top with the maintenance? I mean, your whole desk…"

Ripcord huffed and wiped hastily at the corner of his eye. "The desk? That's nothing. I was much, much worse. After we got you back home, and you seemed fine, I pulled apart every plane in that hanger. I touched them so much I actually made some of them break more. Your mother was getting real mad with me… not that it was about what I was doing to the planes. Launchpad, I didn't just stop taking you up in the planes. I completely checked out, and Birdie carried us for nearly that whole year… and I, I was just in those maintenance manuals and failure theory and anything I could get my hands on… I barely got in a plane, or helped my family…"

"That's why Mom always took me out. You said you were busy, whenever I asked." Despite the fact Launchpad now understood, it still made his chest tighten

"I know I wasn't pulling my weight with everything else… but, Launchpad, I wanted nothing more then to get back up there with you and make up for what I'd done. But whenever you asked me, or I thought about it, I'd just start to shake so much I physically couldn't. Until Birdie eventually decided she'd had enough. She strapped us both together in the back seat of one of the two seater planes and took us up."

"Hey, that I remember. I was so happy that you were up there with us. Pretty sure I was showing you every single dead bush or rock we flew past."

Ripcord looked at him and, finally, smiled faintly. "You were so excited. When we took off all I could do was hold you so tight and bury my face against the back of your jacket. But you were giggling and telling me to look at anything and everything… when I did… probably the greatest… dead bush I'd ever seen. I still had to sit down for like an hour when we got back. But I wasn't scared of taking you up anymore. And I actually manned up and apologised to your mother, and started focusing on my family instead of trying to figure out what went wrong." He squeezed Launchpad's arm, then turned away and wiped at his eyes with a sniff.

"Dad, hey, it's okay, look at me." Launchpad waited until Ripcord looked up at him with red rimmed eyes. "I'm right here. I get it was scary, but your son is right here. And I'm perfectly fine."

"But Launchpad, you're not. You hit your head. Really bad. The doctors could never tell us for sure because you were so young, and it was hard to tell, but you never did real well in school and I, I just know it was because I did you some real damage, and it's all, all my… fault…" Ripcord choked off with a sob and his shoulders shook.

Launchpad grabbed him and pulled him in to his chest. His father sagged against him, one hand gripping into his son's jacket. For a long moment Launchpad just held him and let him cry. And it wasn't just to give his dad that moment to pull himself back together. He'd hit his head and been out for nearly a month. Launchpad knew he wasn't the sharpest tool in the hanger. What if that was because his father had taken him out in the plane, and nearly killed him? If that hadn't happened, would he be a better, smarter pilot? A better sidekick?

Launchpad swallowed hard. "It doesn't matter."

Ripcord grunted as he pulled away from his chest. "Of course it does," he said, thickly.

"No. Dad, you don't even know for sure. And besides, being a little thick has never stopped me from doing anything I've ever wanted to. I flew planes all over the planet for the richest duck in the world. Now I get to fly for Darkwing Duck. Do you have any idea how cool that is? I'm sorry I never told you… but look, whatever happened in this canyon doesn't matter. Even if you screwed up with the engine, it doesn't matter. I still love you, and I forgive you."

Ripcord shoulders slumped, and he rested his head against Launchpad's shoulder. "Thank you."

A/n: This was a tough chapter to write so I hope I have done it justice. Please leave me a review!

I have a bit of experience with maintenance (not aeroplanes), so I'm having fun writing all of Ripcord's quirks. Also, yeah… random catastrophic failure of his plane's engine is 100% not his fault.