Birds of A Feather
Chapter Eight:
The Dark and Stormy Night
Heavy rain fell as Darkwing Duck started his way home on the Ratcatcher. The wind was strong enough to nearly knock the motorcycle over, but like the little trooper he was, he kept on driving. It had been a successful night of crime fighting: one more villain in jail, one more night that the city would be safe.
Just as he turned down the direction of the street, he remembered Steelbeak.
Maybe I should check in on him . . . Gosalyn will be fine on her own, she's a big girl now. The mallard turned the Ratcatcher around and drove to the direction of the F.O.W.L Agent Apartment complex.
When he arrived there, he kept a low profile, knowing that the organization wouldn't take kindly to his trespassing. He parked the motorcycle behind a garage and snuck in through the complex's back entrance. Luckily, no Eggmen were around to give him trouble and he avoided the surveillance cameras like the plague.
Sneaking past a sleeping guard, Darkwing made his way to Steelbeak's apartment. He held onto a small gift box of English Feather cologne, purchased for a "feel better soon" gesture. He knocked a few times, stepped back and cleared his throat.
"Steelbeak?" Darkwing asked quietly, keeping an eye out for troublemakers. He waited for a moment before calling his codename a second time. When there was no answer, he left. He assumed the rooster was asleep, and didn't want to disturb him.
Down by the bay, Steelbeak sat atop a large boulder, blankly looking over the city's horizon. He resembled a massive gargoyle in his hunched, unmoving posture. He was unfazed by the waves that literally smacked him in the face and merely propped his legs up against his chest. He had already been soaked to the skin, what harm could a little more water do? He slightly shivered from the cold rain, trying to ignore the rain's incessant patter on his beak.
What am I to do . . . ?
While Steelbeak looked like the saddest, loneliest rooster in the world, looks were deceiving. Thoughts of murder crept into his mind. All it would take is a snap of 'er neck, and Bushroot would be mine again! Bushroot's much too good fer 'er. Dat witch is nothin' but trouble. Maybe I'll get a little revenge in, and kill dat betrayin' plant duck. No one will stop me, not even Darkwing Duck.
Steelbeak had crashed onto a train wreck of thought, not knowing which emotion he should feel. All at once he felt desire to be loved again, to have someone there to confide in with, yet felt hatred for everything and everyone in the world. If only he could create some nuclear weapon to destroy everyone in the world but him.
The sound of the Ratcatcher came into hearing range, causing Steelbeak to snap out of his deranged state of mind. Looking toward the direction of where the sound came from, he was (for once) not entirely unhappy to hear it. At the drop of a hat, his previous thoughts of murdering mayhem had seemingly disintegrated. Maybe I should give Darkwing a chance to see if 'e kin fill dat void dat Bushroot left . . . 'E seems so eager about it, maybe, jus' maybe . . .
Just before Darkwing crossed the Audubon Bay, he spotted Steelbeak.
"Just what is he doing out in this weather?!" He thought out loud as he pulled over to park the Ratcatcher. With careful footing he made his way down to the bay's edge. Maybe the rooster's more insane than I thought.
Quickly, Darkwing took off his cape and draped it around the rooster's massive shoulders.
"T'anks . . . " The FOWL agent muttered, taking one corner of the cape to wipe the rainwater from his beak.
"Anytime."
"What made youse come all de way out 'ere, anyway?" Steelbeak prodded. "Don'tcha 'ave us F.O.W.L fiends ta lock up? Aren't de Fearsome Five up ta somet'ing tonight? I t'ink Wednesday's de night dey usually do deir robberies an' whatnot. Or is dat Tuesday?"
"Mondays, Steelbeak," Darkwing corrected him with a smirk. "I did my crime fighting for tonight. Arrested Tuskerninni, Ammonia Pine . . . " He droned.
"Eeeuck!" Steelbeak shuddered at the mention of the obsessive compulsive hen. "Fer once, I'll say I pity youse!"
"Why you out in this kind of weather, anyway?" Darkwing asked with genuine concern.
Steelbeak casually shrugged, handing the soaked cape back. "I . . . I needed some time to t'ink on my own. So I came down 'ere."
"Couldn't you do that at your place?" Darkwing asked as he wrung out the cape, placing it in the sidecar's compartment.
"Eh, yeah, but . . . Dis is my choice spot fer it," replied Steelbeak in a mumble. He stood up and flicked some grit off his jacket.
"I guess I gotta get goin', gotta get a change o' clothes. I'm soaked to de bone!"
"Not a bad idea!" remarked Darkwing. "I'll take you there if that's all right with you."
Steelbeak had no qualms with his offering. His place was within walking distance, but the rain had made him miserable and the quicker he got home and dried off, the better. In addition, he could do with a little companionship.
"Fine by me."
With a nod, Darkwing lead Steelbeak back up to the bridge and gestured him to sit in the side car. As he got in, he hopped on and drove toward the downtown core.
"Youse came back . . . "
"You're surprised at this? I told you I wouldn't be gone for too long!" He arrogantly proclaimed, swerving a bad driver. "Darkwing Duck does not like to fall behind on his promises!"
As they passed Bushroot's greenhouse, Steelbeak took one long glance at it. Goodbye, Bushroot, we's 'ad fun. Maybe, one day, we's kin at least be friends. Maybe, jus' maybe. "One day . . . One day, we'll be together again. Some'ow."
"Old memories die hard, don't they?" Never before had Darkwing seen those beautiful, silver eyes so full of hope. This was a good sign; life was finally beginning to treat him reasonably well. He was willing to make it even more fulfilling;
Dat dey do, Darkwing . . .
As the Ratcatcher pulled up alongside the apartment complex, Steelbeak eyed Darkwing in a particularly alluring manner.
"Want to come up?"
Disclaimer: Steelbeak and Darkwing Duck, and other characters mentioned excluding Javert are © Disney.