Safe in Brother's Wings Chapter 59: Echidna and the Ghost, a DuckTales + Big Hero 6 Crossover fanfic

Chapter 59, everybody! Oh happy day we're back on Tuesdays again! ;v;/

So as with all my fics, the climax and ending give me grief sometimes because aaaah sitting down and writing it aaaah—I mean I wrote down an outline so I know where to go but STILL. The good news is, we'll be back on schedule next week AND several chapters are completely written out so…progress.

Also at this point I'm thinking the whole showdown at Sycorax might as well be Phase Three of the fic this section is easily as big as Phase One (heading to San Fransokyo) and starts on Chapter 48, which splits it fairly evenly…and also means we're within 10-15 chapters of the end OH BOY—

Continuing blanket disclaimer: I still have not finished Season Two. We're flying blind, boys. And again, I am still in denial of the end of "Countdown to Catastrophe" don't at me this is how I cope, okay? D: And it's very strange writing this knowing both shows are over but were going strong when I started that's a weird feeling and yet I should be used to it by now. Once again, if you are dissatisfied with these shows ending, send all salt to Disney corporate every nastygram they get that represents fifteen people who couldn't be bothered so WRITE TO THEM.

So back to the fic…the first bit was written recently, with part of it being inspired by a conversation with Spyrkle4 on Tumblr—they were curious as to what happened with the other canon mutations which made me think on it more strenuously and find a way to incorporate them better (honestly, my original intent with High Voltage was the cameo appearance earlier, but in retrospect it doesn't make thematic sense—I included them, ergo something needs to be done with them). And more Kim Possible references with HenchCo and a Portal reference to boot mwahaha.

Now saying that…you would expect someplace like Sycorax to use the fire suppression system that uses an inert gas to suffocate the fire but…eh. Also initially had her pulling the lighter out of a pocket but that bore the question of why she would keep one on her person to begin with (asides from emergency arson).

As for the rest of this chapter, that was written ages in advance and in some cases I wasn't certain if I was going to include it in the final product or not, but it acts as a nice summary as to how these two opposing forces got to their positions and who he is, precisely.

And for the record, I still don't believe that someone goes as hard as that and then gives up he just tricked Baymax into leaving and then hustled to an escape pod so he didn't go to jail let me have this okay!?

And for those of you who wonder at the title…Obake is ghost in Japanese, yes. Echidna, meanwhile, is an important figure in Greek mythology and was known as the Mother of All Monsters.

Angelwings2002, thanks for the review! YES! And no it isn't we've still got plenty left to go HOO BOY—oh Karmi is definitely still on the table. Will Della and 'Donald' get along? Good question—but I'm glad you like I wasn't certain how him being introduced this late in the game would be taken so thank you. :D

Okay, this was going badly.

She should have dealt with that Big Hero group right away, had the goons ready to grab the Hamada brats as soon as she captured them—why, why, why were all her signals failing?

Unfortunately, she already knew the answer: him.

Growl under her breath as she sent a new order, sent out several monsters to deal with the cops, released more to deal with those so-called heroes—called up the HenchCo goons on the low-tech walkie-talkie to confirm the order, both tools she was forced to use thanks to whatever it was he did.

She should have listened to Chris when it came to him, unfortunately.

Later—right now she was stuffing her pertinent documents and formulae into a bag, backing up what she could onto a thumb drive—finished, shouldered the pack—

Grabbed her chair and slammed it against the fish tank taking up most of the wall, sending salty water and two mutated villainesses spilling onto the carpet.

"Oh don't be that way," she said when they twisted to hiss at her, looping and coiling to put some distance between them and her. "I'm granting you your freedom! Oh wait, of course," she said at them trying to slither away. "Well, I'll fix that if you promise me one teensy-weensy thing: Big Hero Six is in the building. Find them and destroy them."

The one that probably used to be the older member of High Voltage hissed at her, the smaller one that might have been the teen slipping behind the other to bare her teeth—figured that was as much of a consent she was going to get or cared to get.

"Good," she said, retrieving a little lighter from a drawer and climbing onto her desk. "I'm glad we had this little chat."

And with that, she clicked it open and held the flame under the sprinkler until it registered and started spraying water, slicking everything and soaking the carpet and floor outside.

"Now, get to work," she hissed, dismissing the two eel monsters as she tugged her ringing phone out. Answer it as the last bit of sleek slimy tail slipped out the door. "This had better be good."

"Can I start with the fire alarm is going off?" Chris asked.

"I know, I'm the one who set it off," she said, climbing off her desk. "And don't give me some cute answer about that, I'm not in the mood."

"But then I only have bad news to give you," Chris whined.

Deep sigh—she figured. "Just—keep them busy, mutate the HenchCo goons if you have to, we're getting out of here."

"Already on it," he said smugly. "Have them fetching it as we speak."

"Good boy," she purred—at least one of her constructs had promise, at least. "As for me…I have a few loose ends to take care of, but that shouldn't take too long—make sure our escape is set."

"On it."

Good—hang up, head for the stairs—the elevators would be out now that she activated the sprinkler system, but she was certain Big Hero Six would be slowed down by now. As for her….

She had some unfinished business to attend to.

It was questionable, at times, why she had bothered with him.

Hauling him out of the bay and hiding him from the people looking for him should have been enough to warrant his help, you would have thought—but no, he had spat and snarled furiously at her, demanding to know how being in a cage was any better than whatever fate had awaited him, didn't seem sold on her plans, caused trouble whenever he could rig himself up a connection to the technology (which was often), refused to eat because he figured she had put mutagens in his food—hit her where it hurt, why don't you.

It had finally gotten to the point that she had put him under, but that still left her with the issue of having an asset that was currently useless.

But….

That was what started the testing with the clones, early on—the first of his was just as bad as he was, still having that irrational anger towards her and causing all sorts of damage. It had actually even managed to escape, had nearly gotten to the city when her guards gunned it down.

So she needed an alternate plan to make them behave, and have them farther away from San Fransokyo—or anywhere else they could cause damage. Like her secondary location, where she was conducting those experiments with avian and human DNA—

Ah.

The griffin still had his attitude, but couldn't do anything with it besides rage and glare at her with seething hate—oh she loved putting it through the wringer. And then testing with other DNA samples, even as they continued farming test subjects from San Fransokyo. Again, she had made a mistake with the first Momakase clone, but working with feathers made it much easier.

Which led to the testing, the creating of several clones to work with, to push and prod, trying to get one that would work…the younger bird-human experiments gave her a thought, something she could work with….

The first one had retained a chunk of him, had been allowed to grow to teenagedom before being woke up—but alas, the issue with clones was cropping up, and there was enough missing that it knew, had been furious with her.

"What, what was your big plan then? I—he wouldn't work with you so you—you make me? Who gave you the right?!"

She had, of course.

But this was why you kept testing, knew she'd have to pull him out of his hypersleep soon, risk letting him regain consciousness enough to get a fresh brain scan—probably had to anyway, you weren't supposed to keep them under like that for longer than ninety-nine days without some sort of supplement, and those had someone more important to use on.

Using two genetic donors didn't really do it either, but she had hopes for this new one—wait for it to grow, tap on its test tube before going to supervise the experiments on the other bird-children…all of it draining, they kept looking at her like she was supposed to do something and keening in a way that felt like nails on a chalkboard. One had done something it was supposed to do once, and she had made the mistake of telling it good job—it had tried to get to her, crying when it was taken away. A different time Chris had suggested maybe showing affection would yield better results—which had ended with him having to peel one off of her and again having to deal with that howling.

No, her way worked much better.

Besides, there was nothing to feel for these. She had some emotion for Chris, because he was specifically engineered for that. You didn't get attached to experiments.

That didn't stop Chris from trying again when the next one was finally ready.

"So," he noised, following her to the prep chamber. "We've established that every one of his hate you on sight."

"I've noticed," she said drily.

"Uh-huh. But, these little bird-kids practically adore you as soon as they set eyes on you. So. I'm thinking we play this up—the carrot, the stick, it doesn't do what you want you play the disappointed mother, no treat for you, but if it does what you want then you give it a smile and a cookie."

She huffed at that, at having to expend emotion on an experiment—she did have better things to do, had to use that emotional energy for schmoozing investors.

But it was worth a shot—if this one didn't work then she'd be looking down the barrel at reviving him, and all the aggravation that came with it. She probably only had a few more tries before she did anyway, and that was before accounting for how busy she was.

So she did it, faked it, smiled at the fuzzy little thing in containment that stirred little more than the usual pride at another successful genetic manipulation. It cheeped, squeaked, straining to reach her—she scowled at Chris making encouraging motions before sticking her hand in and petting its head a couple of times.

"You want more than that?" she asked it, when it continued to paw at the small plexiglass wall—crouch down, smiling, at seeing something with his face looking at her with naked adoration. "Oh honey, you're going to have to do something for me first."

Trying to get it to work with computers was a frustration—it'd bat at the keyboard before losing interest in the noise it made, started crying for her, wincing and whimpering whenever a guard would come and grab it, shriek when they took it away. Run for her anew when she came with the guards to pull it out of its cage, her ignoring the raging of the other experiments (one blonde-haired valley girl still had a refreshing amount of vitriol in her—even the Momakase clone and the griffin had ceased to say anything to her), one of the guards catching it before it could reach her.

And she supposed emotionally manipulating it was fun, or distracting from the current issue, at least—the next two attempts had nothing of him in them, were just mindless bird-creatures—just one or two more attempts before she was forced to revive him.

But she was, because this thing wouldn't do what she wanted, even with the attempt at manipulating it into her corner. It was, once again, a failure.

She was not looking forward to dealing with him.

As she expected, he insisted on making a mess as soon as he was awake—or at least, trying for a different sort of mess.

"Well, so nice to see you up," she greeted, upon entering the chamber to see him sitting in a corner with his back to the wall, hands laced and draped across his knees. "You're up to something, I can tell."

"That is why you dragged me out here, isn't it?" he had rasped—only sparing the nutrients necessary to keep him alive had made his face more sunken than before, blue eyes glittering with malice as he eyed her. "I want to make a deal."

"Oh, honey, I don't make deals," she told him. "You had your chance and blew it, remember?"

"I had a lot of time to think," he spat. "When you put me in that hole you didn't do it properly—I was perfectly aware of every second that passed. Every. Single. Second."

"I'd call that properly," she said, smiling smugly. "But maybe this will make this next round a bit more tractable, hmm?"

His eye twitched. "Cloning, I imagine?" Something equally smug crossed his face then, half of it flaring. "Then let me make something clear: I've already made an agreement with all future iterations of myself. Nothing doing, no helping you, unless we come to an agreement."

"Aw," she noised. "It's cute when you think you're still in charge. And what do you think you're going to do?"

Sigh, sag back against the wall, looking at the corner opposite him. "Your original deal. I help you and play nice, in exchange you 'shelter' me." Shelter with mocking air quotes. "Anything but…that." Gesture at the table he had been revived on.

"Hmm, and what guarantee do I have that you won't renege on our deal the moment you're able?"

"What guarantee do I have that you won't?"

She considered him a moment. "Stand up a minute, will you? Over there," she added, pointing to next to the bed.

He glared at her wearily, finally did so, limbs thin under the jumpsuit they had put him in—she was willing to bet if she took his shirt off right now she'd be able to count every single rib and see where they hadn't healed straight, from both explosions he was in at this point. Look at the corner he had been sitting in…no dislodged panels suggesting chicanery.

She considered him again. "Well…you have to stay awake a few days anyway before we can put you under again…I'll think about it."

"That's it then," he said as she started to leave.

"I said I'll think about it."

His smile was thin, almost amused. "No, you said no. I'll think about it is the diplomatic response."

"Aw, you are as smart as they said," she said brightly. "Maybe I'll be nice and put you under fully this time."

And with that, she left him, feeling about as frustrated as she expected.

As soon as she was gone he dove for behind the table. Sitting in the corner had been a blind—she was expecting him to do something underhanded, so he played to that expectation.

And of course he would try—that was just his nature.

But that foolish woman would have to get up earlier than that to get a step ahead of him—he was going to escape, and if he didn't escape, he would at least make her life miserable.

Had to take a moment, huff, trying to dislodge that feeling in his chest—yes, he had intended…but that was before, before he had spent months in a half-suspended state with nothing but his thoughts for company. He had just…wanted it to be over, didn't want to live with his failure, knew that if he did he'd be captured and carted off to jail….

But this…this nightmare that woman had trapped him in…and now using him….

He couldn't escape. He knew this from the way his hands shook as he rewired the devices that had been monitoring him, using his body and the table to shield his work from the security cameras. She had spared the bare minimum required in keeping him alive, would continue to do so as long as she could derive some use from him…the moment she got one of those clones to work….

Escaping, even surviving, was out of the question.

But he wasn't helpless—he had a thin window where he could still do things, exact a little petty revenge.

Thin smile as he finally hacked the system, start rooting through and installing subtle malware, things she wouldn't notice, that she would chalk up to computer error at best. Make sure the systems that would be taking care of him weren't touched, that wouldn't do, but everything else? The fairest of game.

Once that was done he started rooting through the files, wondering if perhaps he could leak some…but to who? The police? Hah. She funneled too much money to them and the local politicians and hospitals—and was lifting people from them, how interesting. Flick through that file as he debated his options. News? Not hardly. Everyone loved a scandal, but they wouldn't touch her when she had made a darling of herself to them.

Big Hero Six?

Could he even? Would he even? The boy would still be leery of strange information, would refuse to help if he knew the source, would dismiss the information altogether if he knew the source—

We could have been brilliant together.

Sigh. No…no that wouldn't work either. But what options did he have? Globby had gone all noble, Momakase worked for the highest bidder (which most certainly wasn't him anymore), and Trina and Noodle Burger Boy had probably been destroyed with the base. He was out of options—

Hold it.

Go back, examine the file that familiar face belonged to—

John Doe, picked up in San Fransokyo General, possibly involved with the SFIT fire. No family, no ties.

You fool.

But of more pressing questions and concerns—he knew that face, despite it being marred and flecked with burn scars. He knew that face quite well.

He knew it because he had made it last Halloween, although then it had been whole.

Tadashi Hamada. The dead brother.

He was alive.

Consider this one, delve deeper into the file—had to keep him under for several months, had been in a coma for months before that—had to repair the major damage done by the fire before going in for the fiddly genetic detail. And according to this, he had survived that, was slated to wake up soon to be used for testing….

He wouldn't fool himself into thinking this was redemption. He knew better—men like him didn't get happy endings, never had—his foolishness as a child should have been proof enough of that.

But atonement…maybe he could buy that one.

And if the one Hamada boy was any indication….

Throwing another one into the works was just what he needed to do to screw her over mightily.

It was also what he figured to be his last act of defiance—she would kill him, that would be the end of it.

So he was surprised and not when he went spilling out of his containment unit, suddenly jerked awake and coughing up the oxygenized liquid he had been suspended in. This was it, this was when he had a very painful end, shivering at the air chilling his wet body, jumpsuit clinging limply to his skin—

Realized she was not in here when something snorted, eloquently combining disgust and dismissal. Look up—

Flinch back in surprise and more than a little shock to see a great gray griffin glaring down at him, familiar expression, familiar blue eyes—and a splash of color on its face, where he knew that was.

He…really wasn't certain what this was supposed to be. A clone of himself, obviously, one that had been tampered with to create a genetic monster—but he also knew that no clone of his would bother saving him. He hadn't even been bothered with saving himself.

This griffin seemed to know this, growled, low and deep in its chest, before tipping its head slightly to scowl down at him. A glare that seemed to bore deep into his soul….

And then it snorted, turned, and left, tail swishing as it walked through a series of open doors, his symbol flashing on all the keypads.

He managed to pull himself up to a sitting position, lean against the wall for a moment, collecting himself…what was that? What was…how was he supposed to take that, something made using his DNA? What….

Forget all that—he wanted out of here before she put him back in that hole, and at least some iteration of him agreed with that. Slowly, laboriously pull himself upright, limbs trembling from disuse, body shaking from again being spared only the bare minimum of nutrients—

Blink at the keypad to his prison—one that was flashing a message as opposed to his symbol.

You have been given your life back.

Don't waste it.