Much Ado About Negawing: Cold, Part 1- Darkwing Duck (1991)
A/N: From here onward, this collection will update once a week.
There couldn't be a worse time to catch a cold. And yet, here Negaduck is, intermittently hacking up a storm, lying helplessly like a log on his cot in his hideout— an old Wacky Mackerel… something. Probably used to be a facility for canning? Whatever this place used to be, it doesn't matter— it's Negaduck's hideout now, and that's that.
The villain scratches at his already raw neck, trying to erase the persistent itch lodged deep in his throat. Soon enough, that itch is going to turn into a sore throat. His thoughts are already growing heavy, and his brain is thickening with fog. Despite feeling hot, unpleasant shivers run through his body, causing his teeth to chatter, and in turn his skull to rattle. Something in his head pounds painfully, and his muscles ache despite not really having been worked in the past couple of days— for the most part, he's been spending the week plotting. Other than going grocery robbing for food, he hasn't done anything particularly exhausting.
"I am the terror that flaps in the night!"
"You have got to be kidding me." Of course. Of flippin' course. Negaduck's half tempted to pull the blankets up and over his face, so he doesn't have to see you-know-who's stupid face, but then he'd be roasting. And he's already hotter than a red hot chili pepper sitting on the counter of Hamburger Hippo in the middle of a warm summer day.
"I am the can opener that unfastens the sardine can's lid of justice!"
He hears the telltale thum-oosh of Darkwing's smoke bomb, and closes his eyes, sighing tiredly.
"I am Darkwing Duck!"
Negaduck glares daggers at the unwelcome newcomer standing before him, wishing he hadn't left his favourite knife in his jacket (which is of course lying crumpled on the floor on the other side of the room). "Long time no see, Dipwing Dork. Miss me?"
"Mi— miss you? Why would I—" Darkwing quickly shakes his head, and points dramatically at the bedridden villain as he shoots back, "Your tricks won't work on me this time, Negaduck! Prepare to be…" He stops as Negaduck starts hacking again, almost hard enough to cough up a lung. Or both lungs.
"Prepare to be what?" Negaduck cringes at the sound of his own voice. My beak must be all clogged up, dangit. He lets his head fall back against the cot underneath him, still coughing— although it's a little less harsh now. "What? You never see a someone with a cold before?" The next thing the trigger-happy duck knows, Dipwing Dork is standing next to his cot, pressing a hand to Negaduck's forehead. "Get your hand offa me," the villain growls, trying to pull away unsuccessfully.
"You feel like an oven," Darkwing mutters.
"Thanks for reminding me." Negaduck finally gives up on trying to get away from the purple-clad moron, and just lies there, waiting for the other to pull out the handcuffs already.
"Have you been drinking water?" Dorkwing Duck asks firmly, seemingly not hearing the sick duck's comment, finallypulling his hand away from the other's head.
"Why do you need to know?"
"Because you need to stay hydrated." The oh-so-annoying superhero pokes him hard, right in the chest. "It'll help you get over your cold faster. So have you been drinking water or not? Or at least other fluids, like juice or broth?"
"A little water. Now will you leave me alone?"
"A little isn't good enough. Starting now, you're drinking eight cups a day. Have you been resting?"
"I can barely get out of bed," Negaduck hisses. Why can't he just take a hint? "What do you think?!"
"I'll… take that as a yes." Darkwing touches his forehead again, although this time it's… different. Like he's touching for the sake of touching. "We'll have to wait until you can move around more then, before doing the saltwater thing."
"… the 'saltwater thing?'"
"Gargling with warm saltwater for a little bit helps to relieve sore throats."
"…" Negaduck would think that he's joking, except for the fact that Dipwing's expression is dead serious. "That's disgusting."
"Tell me about it. But maybe I can get you some tea in the meantime instead…"
. . . .
Darkwing starts coming by every night now, and fusses over Negaduck like there's no tomorrow.
"Here, drink this— it'll help your throat."
"You should eat this. It shouldn't mess up your stomach too much."
"Don't sleep like that, you'll make your congestion worse."
He hates it. He hates how much attention the guy's showering him with. He hates feeling this vulnerable. He hates the fact that he's literally at Darkwing's mercy, that at any second, the caped crusader could put him behind bars. And Negaduck has virtually no strength to fight back.
And what's worse, is that… he kind of doesn't want it to end, either.
He hates that, too.
The week is over all too quickly, and so is the cold. Darkwing seems to sense this, as the way he touches Negaduck's forehead now… has an air of finality to it. He then slides the thermometer into the other's beak, to double check. "Looks like your temperature's down… and you haven't been coughing as much these past few days. Is your throat still sore?"
"Not really," Negaduck answers, staring at one of the gold buttons on the other's jacket. "A little itchy… but it's not sore." Just leave already, why don't you? Something catches in his throat when he realises that he doesn't want them to go back to the way they were before… whatever this is. It had to end at some point. Who are you kidding, anyway? He never cared about you— he just wanted you to get better so he could arrest you—
"Hey." Soft. Darkwing's voice is… soft. It's strange, to have that softness directed at him, of all people.
Negaduck doesn't look up.
Darkwing lets out a sigh, and the next thing the villain knows, the guy's pulling him close. Into his arms. It takes several seconds for the word to register. Hug. Negaduck doesn't return the gesture— the cold was humiliating enough. The last thing he needs is Dipwing Dork thinking that he's gone soft.
He should push him away. Tell him to leave. Maybe threaten him with his chainsaw. Or perhaps his bazooka instead—
"Do you want me to go?"
No. I don't. Stay.
Darkwing pulls back, settling his hands on Negaduck's shoulders. And now he's the one staring at a shirt button, not making eye-contact.
"Yes. I do. And don't come back."
Disappointment and hurt flood Darkwing's eyes, but he doesn't say a word. He nods, letting his hands fall away from the other's shoulders. He turns and heads for the door. Soon, he's gone, and the footsteps have long since faded.
The hideout is empty, save for Negaduck himself.
Somehow it feels wrong.