Birds of A Feather


Chapter Six:
A Comfort



No, no, dis can't be true! It just . . . Can't! Steelbeak felt as it he had his heart torn out as Darkwing's words sunk in. At first, he didn't believe the truth. After all, why should he believe a arch rival for? Then it occurred to him that he hadn't seen Bushroot in months.

The last he had seen the hybrid was back in late April; it was mid July now. Bushroot told him that he was off on an expedition to South America to smuggle Passion Flowers to bring back to his greenhouse. While on the trip, no postcards were sent, and afterwards, no phone calls or emails were answered. He spent nights worrying what might've happened to him, and spent hours combing the city for him. Each time he stopped over at the greenhouse, he wasn't there. Eventually, he gave up, wanting to give Bushroot his space.

It was hard for Steelbeak to detach himself from the lives of the few people he actually cared for. Underneath his tough-guy exterior, he was loyal, although there were times that would've suggested otherwise.

"But I . . . " Steelbeak stammered helplessly, slowly staggering out into the hallway so that Darkwing wouldn't see his saddened expression. The last thing he wanted was for the crimefighter to see that he had a soft side to him. It would ruin his reputation, no doubt. It was in such

The rooster's attempt to hide his feelings failed Darkwing's sharp observation. He knew a thing or two about psychology, and knew when people were hiding their feelings. "There's no good in hiding your feelings from Darkwing Duck!" He said in an upbeat tone, trying to cheer up the situation. "If I can spot a robber a mile away, I can spot a sad face in a blink of an eye!"

Steelbeak ignored his joking around and sat at the edge of his bedroom, back turned to the duck. He held back a sob, remembering the kindness and understanding that Bushroot had shown him. No one else had loved him the way he did. Now he felt betrayed, and wondered if he could learn to trust anyone anymore.

"Why did youse tell me?" He asked, his normally proud posture hunched. Getting struck by a truck wouldn't give him the pain he felt now.

Darkwing stood in the doorway, spending a moment to wonder about that question. Seeing as how much Steelbeak was affected, he felt a little bad breaking the truth. It had to be said, nonetheless. Carefully and quietly, he stepped inside the room. It pained him to see Steelbeak this way, even if he was "just" a villain.

"I told you because . . . I care."

Steelbeak shuddered as he felt a hand being gently laid on his back. At the moment, he wanted no one but Bushroot back to comfort him.

"Why - - why do youse care?"

"You are one of my citizens," the mallard bluntly replied, removing his hand from the rooster's back as he became uncomfortable. "Just as it's my job to protect them, it's my job to care about them. If I saw someone got hit by a bus, and no ambulance was there at the moment, I would take them to the hospital myself. If I saw someone's heart break . . . I would do my best to help out and make their situation better." He added, trying to sound as sincere as possible.

Steelbeak curled back the corners of his beak in a distorted snarl. In spite of his apparent edginess, he desperately needed someone to help him through this difficult time. This show of attitude was merely a mask of how he truly felt. He looked as if he was going to remove the duck's bill off with his beak, but in reality, he was ready to break down and cry.

"Yeah, well, what kin yas do fer me?"

"Let me help you," Darkwing quietly answered, sitting down next to him on his bed. "I know you hate me, but there are times when you have to listen to someone when you're feeling like this. Even if that someone is somebody you wouldn't nessarily get along with, it beats living with a broken heart. Just . . . Give me a chance."

Steelbeak looked away, as if to pretend Darkwing wasn't in the room. I'll . . . T'ink of it. I mean . . . I'd 'ate to waste my time and money on a counselor who would just reply wit' a "I see". Den again, dis is Dipwing. Dis dork who really kept messin' up wit' my schemes and more den a few times jeopardized my career, now wants to 'elp me. Should I give 'em a chance?

An awkward silence fell upon the room. Darkwing kept a careful eye on Steelbeak, waiting to hear a reply. I' ll give him time to think. I cannot imagine how awkward he feels. My forcing my way in here's not helping much, either.

Steelbeak blinked a few times, stared blankly at the wall, now blaming himself for Bushroot not wanting anything to do with him. "I guess I kin consider it a deal," he finally said, a little uneasy about having the crimefighter in his bedroom . "Just . . . What do youse t'ink youse kin do dat could to 'elp me?"

How can I put it this way? Darkwing stammered as he tried to word out just exactly what he wanted to respond with. He wanted to be of some use, not look like a fool.

"Well, I - - "

"Go on!" Steelbeak grumbled, roughly nudging the duck with an elbow. This action was strong enough to almost push him off the bed. When Darkwing didn't respond right away, he gave him another quick jab.

"C''mon, c'mon, c'mon! Spit it out, I don't 'ave all day!"

Darkwing let out a grunt as he was elbowed but otherwise didn't react with any form of anger. Instead, he straightened out his jacket and looked directly into the rooster's silver-grey eyes. Nervously, he replied, readying himself to ridiculed or physically attacked. "I want to help you . . . To feel loved again. I . . . I want to - - "

"Love me?" Steelbeak whispered. He surprised Darkwing with his casualness, and got up off the bed to look out the window. For a moment, the rooster looked out in to the night sky, and then looked down at the duck who had stepped up beside him.

Darkwing swallowed hard, and nodded once. "Yes, Steelbeak." Those two words of confession proved more difficult to say than he anticipated. He said it like he meant it, truly meaning to help this tortured soul by showing him how to love again.

Shocked, Steelbeak didn't reply. He pinched himself as if to wake himself from a dream and gave Darkwing a "what the hell are you talkin' about" look.

"Love me? Of all people?" He scoffed. "Ok, 'elping me to know 'ow to love someone is one t'ing, but 'im lovin' me is another!" Surely dis guy's jokin'! Whatever 'e's smokin', I sure 'as 'ell 'ope he ain't sellin' it!

Steelbeak's answer had made Darkwing become very flustered. It reminded him that it was a good idea to think first, then say what needed to be said.

"What am I talking about? I'm sure you can find a cute girl for you to be paired up with!" He winked, giving the rooster a poke in the back of his neck. "If anything, that girl might keep me a little more occupied on my crime fighting duties. I'll have to go after you, and her!"

Steelbeak disagreeably shook his head, wandering out into the living room were he sunk himself into a comfortable chair. Stubbornly, he refused to be with anyone but someone who he had to let go. As he felt himself choke up again, he turned his head aside. Once again, he was trying to hide his feelings; from Darkwing, himself, and the world.

"No, I want my Bushroot. No one else . . . " As he spoke, his voice was strained, lost, saddened. It betrayed his every attempt to hide his true feelings. Ultimately, he caved in. First came a whimper, and then the tears.

Darkwing gave Steelbeak a much needed hug, the first he's had since his relationship with Bushroot. With the edge of the cape, he gently wiped away a tear. "I know it hurts, big guy. If ya keep cryin' like that, though, yer beak's goin' to rust!"

Just this little amount of comfort made the whole difference in the world to Steelbeak. Putting his differences aside, Darkwing was a newfound companion. He was someone who cared and gave his heart to help him through this rocky time.