Coming Home Part 6 (Coming Home Finale)

"Of all the people who had to show up today, why did it have to be Launch Pad..." Darcy muttered to herself, stomping into the house. She had barely enough control not to slam the door after she entered the house. "Anyone else I could handle. But noooooo, it had to be Launch Pad McQuack."

Shaking her head, Darcy headed up stairs. She had intended to go to her room, but when she stepped onto the second floor, she had a jarring realization.

This wasn't her house anymore. Which meant 'her room' wasn't her room anymore.

Letting out a tired sigh, Darcy leaned back against the nearest wall and slid down. She stared down the hall before her, the once familiar house looking...foreign. The floor was covered in water, the walls decorated with pictures from a life Darcy wasn't a part of, and the whole place smelled like burnt wood and plastic.

"Welcome home," Darcy mumbled to herself, pulling up her legs and wrapping her arms around them. She lay her head down on her knees, tears threatening to spill. But she was too tired to care.

So she sat, at the top of the stairs, oblivious to the cold feeling of water seeping into her skin, or the sound of Drake and Gosalyn coming inside. After a while, she cried herself to sleep...but her dreams held no solace for her.

(S.H.U.S.H. special ops, location unavailable).

"Darcy," Aaron said, shaking Darcy's arm. Slowly, Darcy opened her eyes, the bits of her dream of going home disappeared.

"Aaron?" Darcy asked, blinking her eyes open. She sat up and looked around her. Aaron was sitting next to her, and he was dressed in an armored gray suit. Glancing at herself, Darcy saw she was wearing the same suit. "What - Where are we?"

"We're on our last mission," Aaron said, smiling that special smile he only gave her. Leaving forward he gave her a kiss. "Then, we can go meet your family, get married, have our honeymoon…"

Darcy laughed and kissed him back. Then, she became more serious and pulled back. She looked around for the officer in charge, but she saw no one. There were only 8 or so ducks in armor on this transport. And she suspected none of them knew what they were doing here.

"Do you know what the plan is?" Darcy asked Aaron. He shook his head and took Darcy's left hand, the one where her ring sat.

"I'm sure we'll be briefed before we go in," He said, rubbing her ring finger. She gave him a little smile to humor him. She knew they wouldn't be briefed. As of last year, they hadn't even been briefed on their missions. Just given a short description of what to do, and then sent off. It was probably due to the supposed mole within their ranks, though Darcy thought holding back information on a mission was a mistake. The mole wasn't the only soldier on mission, after all.. "Hey, we're stopping."

Darcy blinked out of her reverie and let go of Aaron's hand. It wasn't looked well upon to have a relationship in this line of work. At least, not with these people. That's why she and Aaron were only engaged, and not married.

"All right, soldiers," An accented voice said over the megaphone in the transport. Darcy and Aaron both unbuckled and stepped out of their seats. Darcy un-holstered one of her pistols and loaded it, and put down her visor. "We've arrived at your destination. Your mission will be to infiltrate the facility. You will be alerted to when to come back," Darcy gave Aaron a 'I told you so' look. He gave her an awkward smile and shrugged. "Oh, and while you're at it, kill as many people as you can."

"Well, that explains a lot." Darcy whispered sarcastically to Aaron as they lined up by the transport doors. He nodded absentmindedly, taking out his pager. He was one of the soldiers that actually had a pager, meaning he had other jobs to do than what had just been said.

"Babe, in case something goes wrong," He said, tucking the pager back into his pocket. Darcy frowned, just a teeny bit worried by this sudden change in "Here," Aaron said, taking off his tags and handing them to Darcy. "Keep these with you. I won't be able to stay with you on this mission."

"Thanks," Darcy said, putting his tags beside hers, and then tucking them both beneath her armor. She would protect these with her life, if she had to. "Here's something for you to keep track of -" She planted a kiss hard and long on his beak. "My heart...don't break it."

"Never crossed my mind," He said, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, and then turning towards the door. They had started moving open, and as they did Darcy could hear sounds from outside. Terrible sounds of war and bombs, screams of terror and cries of victory.

Closing her eyes a moment, she took a little time to lock her emotions up. When she went out there, she would no longer be Darcy Mallard, she would be a machine. Just a soldier, her only mission to infiltrate the facility and kill whoever got in her way.

When the doors had opened fully, Darcy opened her eyes as a soldier. With her emotions off, she ran out of the transport and onto the war infested ground. Dodging bullets and leaping over fallen soldiers and twisted pieces of metal, she made for the concrete building ahead of her.

"Infiltrate," She said to herself, shooting one of the guards who pulled a gun on her. "Just have to infiltrate."

She continued to dodge bullets and shoot anyone who tried to stop her. And when she was faced with an auto defense system, she covered herself with mud and crawled along the ground in order to get by it.

Then, with a bomb and some glue, she blew a hole in the wall and went inside. Staying to the side, she kept to the shadows, shooting anyone who tried to fix the wall, and keeping her ears open for the signal to leave.

Until she was told otherwise, she was going to guard this hole with her life, killing whoever tried to take her out. Which, so far, was becoming quite a number. Another guard was coming towards her, and she raised her gun to shoot - when she realized it was Aaron.

Waving at him with their special signal (kissing two fingers and then making the peace sign) she stepped forward. She was still in soldier mode, so when he pulled her into a hug and kissed her, she didn't know how to react.

"Aaron -!" She tried to protest, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her out the hole in the wall.

"Darcy - things aren't what we thought," He said, sounding worried. "We have to leave. Now."

"Aaron, I don't understand," Darcy said, pulling him to a stop. "What about our orders? If we leave now we'll be accused of abandoning outpost -"

"Trust me, no one's gonna care in a little while," Aaron said, tugging Darcy forward and heading for the transport. To Darcy's surprise, it was closing up and moving out.
"What the hell - where's he going?" Darcy asked, running so fast now that she no longer needed Aaron to pull her along. She tried to wave down the transport, but it didn't seem to see her.

"He's leaving the blast zone," Aaron said, glancing back at the facility, and then over at Darcy. "I don't think we'll make it."

"Don't be so negative - of course we'll make it," Darcy said, taking out her emergency rope and tying her unloaded pistol to it. As she ran, she swung the pistol into the truck, so that when the transport doors closed, the pistol couldn't escape. But the rope could, and she could use it to pull herself and Aaron up to the transport. "Grab on!"

Aaron did as he was told, and the two of them used the rope to pull themselves towards the vehicle - even though it wrought havoc on their boots and feet. However, when they reached the top, the transport door started to open.

Darcy, who was closest to the edge, grabbed on and pulled herself up. Then, she reached down to take Aaron's hand and help him up. But just before she could touch his fingers - the pistol wooshed out of the vehicle and the rope went slack - leaving Aaron to fall in the dirt.

"No!" Darcy cried, making to jump down and go after him. But someone grabbed her and kept her from leaping out. Struggling against the arms that held her, she started screaming. "Let me go - Aaron! Aaron - get up!"

Sluggishly, Aaron pulled himself up. Darcy willed him to get up, to move. She had a feeling something very, very bad was about to happen. Aaron tried to run after the transport, but the fall had hurt him pretty hard. He was limping as he ran, and his beak was bleeding. Darcy tried to squirm out of whoever was holding her back. Maybe she could find another rope and toss it to him, or hop out and go after him.

An explosion from the building she had helped infiltrate suddenly stopped her. A mushroom cloud of fire and ash rose from the building, pieces of metal and concrete flying in every direction. That was when Aaron stopped running. His eyes, sad and resigned, met Darcy's. He was giving up.

"Don't you dare." Darcy shouted, tears forming in her eyes. Aaron shook his head, mouthing "I'm sorry." Then, suddenly, an ugly, twisted piece of metal landed right where Aaron stood. Just like that, he was gone.

"NNNNOOOOO!" Darcy screamed, breaking away from the arms and making for the transport doors. They slammed down hard before she could jump out, effectively blocking her exit. Frantically, she banged on the door until her hands were sore, and her energy drained.

Then she woke up.

(Drake's House, Saint Canard)

Darcy woke with a start, shivering, not just from the dream, but because she was cold. Blinking, Darcy realized she was still in the hallway, sitting in a puddle of cold water. Not only that, but it was late. No light shined in from the windows, and the house was eerily silent.

Wait, no, it wasn't completely silent. There was some noise down in the kitchen...it sounded like someone was moving around down there. Other than that, however, she could hear no one else stirring, not even Drake snoring.

"Something's not right here," Darcy murmured to herself, rising quietly from the floor. She shivered a little at the coldness in the air, and made a note to dry off at some point. But first - she needed to see who was down there.

With practiced ease, Darcy moved silently down the stairs, and turned into the living room, which had double doors that led into the kitchen. The light in the kitchen wasn't on, which led Darcy to assume that someone had broken in. Glancing around, she looked for something to wield as a weapon. The best she could find was a tall lamp, with an extra long cord.

Beggars can't be choosers, She thought to herself, carefully picking up the lamp. Silently, she pushed open the kitchen doors, glancing around in the darkness for whoever was ransacking the kitchen. She spotted the perpetrator right across from the kitchen island, next to the fridge. Crouching low, Darcy started for him, the lamp horizontal to the floor.

As she came behind him, she stood. She couldn't see if the person had a weapon, or if it was a he or she. What she could see, though, was that whoever it was was munching on a sandwich.

Wait...a sandwich? Why would someone break into the house and then steal a sandwich? I mean, a really hungry guy might do that...but then, why not go to hold up Hamburger Hippo or Subway?

As Darcy stood there, confused by the situation, the person reached out and opened the fridge, flooding the kitchen, and his face, in a ghostly white light. Darcy gasped when she saw who it was who was raiding the kitchen.

"Launch Pad?!" She exclaimed, startling him so badly he started coughing. Flicking on the lamp, Darcy put a hand on her hip. "What are you doing here?"

Leaning on the fridge, Launch Pad held up a one finger while he finished coughing. Then, clearing his throat, he turned to look at Darcy, blushing red.

"Oh, Darcy, hi," He gave her a little wave, to which she frowned. "I was just grabbing a bite to eat...want anything?"

"I'd rather know why you're here." Darcy stated, her voice calm, but laced with anger. She was still upset about the way he'd run away without telling her, more so because her parents had died just a few days before he left. "I mean, why not go to Hamburger Hippo? It is open 24/7. Or maybe eat at your place - I'm sure there's something there you could eat."

"Tonight's...not a good night to eat out," Launch Pad said, rubbing the back of his head. "It's raining pretty hard out. Also I'm out of food at my place, so…"

"So you came here instead." Darcy sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She may still be angry at him, but she wasn't above letting him have a sandwich. If he was hungry, fine, he could have one. "Okay well...just-just clean up when you're done."

Darcy turned to go, lamp in tow. Before she took two steps, however, Launch Pad grabbed the lamp.

"Wait, Darcy," Launch Pad said, waiting until she glanced back at him. From this distance, he could see she'd been crying. "I...I know you're still mad at me. And I get that," He said, nodding a little. "But that was a long time ago and I'm not the person I was then."

"Neither am I." Darcy sighed, letting go of the lamp. She wasn't ready to talk about this right now. Actually, she wasn't ready to talk about anything quite yet. Not what happened to Aaron, not about working in special ops, not about her parents' death, and especially not about him. "Look, Launch Pad, I'm really, really tired, and in all honesty I don't feel up to talking about...anything."

"Oh. Yeah, yeah I understand…" Launch Pad stammered, moving his sandwhich from hand to hand. This wasn't how he had envisioned talking to Darcy. He thought that, maybe, they could work things out, and bury the hatchet. It appeared, however, that was not going to happen tonight. He glanced at Darcy hopefully. "Maybe we could talk later?"

Darcy sighed, and shook her head. Of all the times Launch Pad could have shown up, it had to be today…

"I don't think -" Darcy started to say, looking up at Launch Pad. The rest of her words failed her when she looked into Launch Pad's pleading, puppy dog eyes. He was giving her a hopeful little smile, a wisp of his red hair hanging between his eyes. Darcy heaved a sigh of resignment. She never could resist his puppy dog eyes… "All right, Launch Pad, we can talk later."

"Really?" Launch Pad stood up a little straighter, as much as in surprise as in excitement. He wasn't sure if giving her puppy dog eyes would work, not after all these years. But it seemed he still had that magic look. It made him wonder, maybe there was still some hope for them. "Would tomorrow be a good time? Or maybe next week? And where should we go -"

"I'll get back to you on that," Darcy said, leaning tiredly against the kitchen island. She felt exhausted, and her dream - no - her memory of what happened to Aaron hadn't helped. "Right now, I need some rest."

Launch Pad nodded, his excitement turning to worry. From the look of things, Darcy looked as if she hadn't slept in a while. More than that, the way her eyes looked, empty and haunted, told him something was wrong.

"So, uh, with the upstairs flooded, where are you sleeping?" Launch Pad asked, taking a quick bite of his sandwich. The breade had been squashed flat due to him gripping it so hard - but the sandwich still tasted decent.

"Probably the couch." Darcy shrugged, then let out a yawn. Picking up the lamp, she started to leave. "I'll leave you to your midnight dinner. Night, Launch Pad."

"Night…" Launch Pad murmured, watching as Darcy practically dragged the lamp back into the living room. The double doors gently swung shut with barely a sound. Launch Pad took another bite of his sandwich, debating what to do. Common sense told him he should head home. But his heart told him he should follow Darcy.

Chewing slowly, he glanced around the kitchen, debating what he should do. When he swallowed, his decision was made. Biting his beak, he headed towards the living room, turning off the kitchen light as he went.

Darcy was flopped down on the couch, her face buried in one of Drake's favorite throw pillows. For a moment, Launch Pad thought he should head out. Drake would have a fit if he stayed, and who knows how Darcy would react. But he couldn't just leave her...Besides, he hadn't finished his sandwich yet.

Moving quietly over the carpeted floor, he eased down on the cushion next to her feet. Darcy mumbled something and moved her head so it was facing the couch back. Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, Launch Pad relaxed in the chair. The remote was on the arm nearest him, so he picked it up. Glancing at Darcy, he turned on the tv - and was relieved to find the volume was already turned down low.

Gosalyn had probably done that, so she wouldn't wake anyone up as she watched a late night horror movie. Launch Pad flicked through the channels, until he found a rerun of one of those Marvel movies, with Tony Stork and Nestasha Romanoff.

Part way through the movie, and his sandwich, he felt something cold seeping into his pants. Mouth full of sandwich, he looked down, and was surprised to see water trickling down from Darcy's feet. Chewing a little slower, he glanced around for a blanket - but found none.

Then, suddenly he knew what he should do. Manuevering carefully, he took off his jacket, and lay it down on Darcy. He made sure it was wrapped around her securely, so she wouldn't get cold during the night. Then, glancing at his watch, he realized it was now very early morning, and any moment Drake and Gosalyn would be back.

"Goodnight Darcy," Launch Pad whispered, turning off the tv with a click of the remote. Then, as quietly as he could, he made his way out of the house, and towards the back door.

(Meanwhile, atop one of Saint Canard's buildings)

A figure dressed in dark purple stood atop Saint Canard's most highly regarded bank, his cape flapping quietly in the wind. The figure, dressed in a deep purple felt hat with a wide brim, a purple mask, and a purple buttoned suit, stood like a gargoyle on the ledge. His eyes, like the light of a lighthouse swept over the quiet streets of Saint Canard, searching for criminals.

As flash of movement by an alleyway caught his eye. Pulling his grappling hook out of one of his many pockets, he aimed for one of the buildings next to the alleyway. Before he could leave, however, a voice caught him off guard.

"Dad, why are you acting so weird?"

Jumping, Darkwing fumbled with his grappling hook, grabbing it a second before it went tumbling down to the sidewalk. Letting out a puff of air, he turned back to where the voice had come from. His daughter, Gosalyn.

"I'm not acting weird," He shrugged, sticking the grappling hook back in it's pocket. Gosalyn, decked out in a football helmet, baseball pitcher's chest plate, and hockey arm and knee guards, raised an eyebrow.

"You willingly brought me along on a stakeout, you didn't tell me about your sister," Gosalyn said, counting the events down on her fingers. "You got upset at Launch Pad about something, and you had me wear all of this sports equipment!"

"Heroing is dangerous work," Darkwing said, glancing back over the ledge. There was definitely something or someone moving in that alleyway. "And I don't want you getting hurt."

"But I've been with you on missions before," Goslayn protested, folding her arms as best she could. "And I didn't have to wear all this junk."

"It's not junk." Darkwing said, folding his arms and giving Gos a stern fatherly look. "It's body armor."

"It's heavy is what it is." Gos muttered, shoving off the helmet. "How am I supposed to move to catch the bad guy in this?"

"You're not, young lady." For a moment, Darkwing forget he was on a rooftop looking for criminal. "You're going to sit right here, and watch from a safe distance."

"That's no fun!"

"Fighting crime isn't all it's cracked up to be." Darkwing said, shrugging as if it wasn't that big a deal. Inwardly, however, he was hoping Gosalyn would stop arguing with him and do what he said. He needed her to be perfectly safe and healthy when the social worker came for a visit - and having Gosalyn bruised would not look good.

"But dad, this isn't like you!" Gosalyn persisted, shaking off the Hockey guards. "You've never made me wear body armor before I went crimefighting with you!"

"Well maybe I should have," Darkwing stated, feeling a pang of fear at the sight of the hockey gear hitting the roof top. What if something happened to her while he was crimefighting? What if she broke her arm, or she fell, or was kidnaped? Even if he was able to save her, it was likely that the social worker would deem him ill-equiped to take care of a child and take her away from him.

"But I'm careful!" Gosalyn said, struggling to take off the pitcher's chest plate. "Just ask Honker!"

"Young lady, this is not' debatable." Darkwing folded his arms and gave her a stern glare. "You're going to wear that armor, and that's final."

Gosalyn looked up at her dad, meeting his eyes. She stared at him a few minutes, her arms working around the knot tying the chest plate to her. Once it was untied, she shook her head.

"No." she said, folding her arms. Darkwing's eyes widened. Had she just told him...no? "I'm not going to wear all of that junk. It's too heavy! What if someone started chasing me, and I couldn't get away?"

"Gosalyn, put on the armor." Darkwing said through a clenched beak. Gos shook her head again, wondering if her dad had even heard her explanations. A thread of anger weaved it's way into Darkwing's mind. He took a deep breathe to keep it under control. "Put. The. Armor. On."

When gosalyn again shook her head, Darkwing lost it. With a roar of rage he began pacing back and forth across the rooftop.

"Of all the times you had to be rebellious - why does it have to be now of all times!?" Darkwing asked, looking up towards the sky. "Why couldn't I have a little girl who does what I say, and doesn't constantly question my authority!" Darkwing suddenly turned and gestured at Gosalyn. "Instead, I have a daughter who not only gives me high blood pressure - but who challenges my every word. Every. Single. Day!"

Gosalyn stared wide eyed as her father ranted, her eyes tearing up. She'd never seen him behave like this before. Sure, he'd ground her every once in a while, and there were plenty of times he lectured her - but this - this didn't feel like something he would do. At least, not this version of him.

For an instant she saw Darkwarrior Duck, his red eyes gleaming beneath his cowl, the spikes of his suit shining in the moonlight. Quickly she shook the vision from her head. No, her dad was not like him - he could never be.

Gosalyn opened her mouth to apologize for refusing to wear the armor - but before she could, Darkwing said something that chilled her to the bone.

"No, Gosalyn, I don't want to hear any excuses," Darkwing sighed as he stopped pacing. He pinched the bridge of his beak tiredly and leaned up against the building's ledge. "Sometimes, I wish you weren't such a bad egg."

Suddenly, Gosalyn felt her eyes tear up. That phrase - that was what had hurt her more than anything else when she met Darkwarrior Duck. She could have lived with the strict rules, the way he was extremely tough on crime - but those words had hurt her to the core. And her father had just said them to her.

"I'm sorry I'm such a screw up." She stated, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. Darkwing glanced up distractedly, still caught up in his own emotional outburst. "Maybe you should return me to the orphanage and adopt some other kid."

With that, Gosalyn tossed down the helmet, and ran off, jumping down onto the fire escape. She barely noticed when Darkwing called her name, or the dark shape that moved in the alley below her. By the time she'd swung off the last ladder of the fire escape, it was too late.

Someone had a get-a-way vehicle parked by the back entrance to the bank - so a fast getaway could be made. The driver was strung up tight, worried that he would be caught. And when Gosalyn landed hard on top of the car's roof, he panicked. In a state of fear, he put the car in gear and hit the gas - effectively knocking whatever had landed on the car's roof clear off. The driver didn't see who it was - all he saw was a blur of orange hair and a purple shirt in the rearview mirror.

So sorry for the late update! I'm working on my book this summer, and that's taken priority over my fanfiction writing. I was able to finish this chapter today, though, so that's a victory! Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter, if not, I'm sorry you didn't enjoy it. Stay cool this summer!